"Oh bless the Lord, my soul, He has often told me since, that if I had died then, he believed I should have gone to happiness; but I fear I should not. Though I thought I felt happy and sincere, yet I fear my foundation was on the sand. I had not a clear evidence of my acceptance with God, though I thought myself very happy and thankful. As soon as I was in a situation to go out, which was January 28, 1787, I went to visit my friend Elizabeth Smith. We were very glad to meet again on this side eternity. Indeed I was looked upon almost as one raised from the dead! But in what a condition did I find my dear friend! A deep melancholy had overspread her mind. Her exercises were deep and severe. The balm of divine peace she had not found. She frequently sent for me to read to her; as by increasing weakness she was unable to read but little herself. One day her mind was greatly exercised; and we two only being in the room, she said to me, "Don't you remember such and such a time and place, when we served the devil together?" "Yes," said I, "I do remember it to my sorrow." "Oh !" said she, 66 my sins are like mountains tumbling down upon me. What shall I do? what shall I do? I know not which way to turn. Oh my friend!" continued she, "do prepare for death before you come upon a sick bed. The distress of either body or mind alone is enough for one to endure; but have them both together, it seems as if it were more than I can bear. Oh! prepare for death while in health, and then you will be ready when the summons comes. She wanted none to visit her, unless religion was the subject of their discourse. When some came in to see her, and began to talk on worldly things, she. turned from them, and began to pray; and after they were gone, wondered people would converse so little on the subject of religion. In her anxiety and distress, she sometimes prayed so loud, as to be heard at some distance. Observing her mother, who was a widow, to retire alone, she said, "Oh mother! why will you not pray with me?" After this she always prayed in her family, and may I not say, was a mother in Israel. Not long after this that dear girl was brought out of darkness into marvellous light. The burden of guilt and sin was entirely removed, and she was happy in her Redeemer's love: in which state she lived till the 16th of April, 1787, when the mortal scene was closed in the same happy frame! Just before she expired, looking round on her weeping friends, myself being among the rest, all bathed in tears, she fixed her eyes intensely upon me, and said, "Don't weep for me, but all of you lift up your hearts in prayer to God for me;" and sweetly fell asleep! And I think I have reason to conclude, that some kind conducting angel was ready to convey her happy spirit to the mansions of the blessed, where I trust she is now tuning her golden harp to the praises of God and the Lamb. After her death the family manifested a peculiar regard to me, and took me for a sister. Her younger sister was then in good health, but in about three or four months was taken with a quick consumption; and in one year, to a single day from the death of her elder sister, she also died! She was seventeen years and one month old; and I have reason to think also went to join in the song of redemption with the choir above. In about two or three years after, their good old mother followed them to the grave, and I trust to the regions of bliss. How joyful the scene when parents and children meet in heaven! What to think of myself in those days, I am much at a loss! Sometimes I felt happy, and at other times miserable. I still continued to use the means of grace; such as reading, prayer, and hearing the word preached; but much of the time was like the troubled sea, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. One time I faneied myself a pretty good sort of a person, and thought I grew good fast. I thought I loved every body; could pray for my enemies; could do good to those who entreated me evil, and persecuted me; and indeed I felt as if I was pretty good. Passing by a peach tree in a neighbouring field, I thought of getting some of the fruit; but it occurring to my mind that it belonged to another, and to take it without leave, would be stealing, I would not for the world have done it. My conscience was so tender, I would not have taken a pin or a stick from any one without leave.* My Babel of self-righteousness was now well nigh built, and in my imagination I had almost climbed to heaven upon it. By my works I thought myself as good, or better, than any around me. But it pleased the Lord to open my eyes to see my danger, and overthrow the rotten foundation on which I stood. how great the fall from such a height to nothingness ! What a loss did I sustain ! All my righteousness was as filthy rags; and I found I was less than nothing and vanity. Oh It is impossible for those who have not felt these exercises to know what I then felt. I have sometimes compared myself to a vessel at sea, in great distress; the winds boisterous, the seas running mountains high, without anchor or cable, expecting every moment to be dashed to pieces. Truly this was my case. For while the sea of my transgressions was rolling like a flood upon me, Satan did not fail to blow up the boisterous wind of temptation, while I had neither the *It should be observed, that it is not to be understood that a strict regard to that command, "Thou shalt not steal," as well as to all the other divine commands, was not necessary; but the making a selfrighteousness of this regard, is what is designed to be condemned in these remarks. cable of true faith, nor the anchor of gospel hope, that enters within the veil, to be my support and stay; but was carried along by the tempestuous waves, and driven into the Strait Dangerous, between the two great rocks, Presumption and Despair; and had like to have been dashed in pieces against them. If I endeavoured to avoid Presumption on one side, I was on the verge of Despair on the other. I was tempted to think it was all in vain for such a wicked sinner to - expect mercy at the hand of the Lord, for I was not elected. Then it was suggested, I might as well give loose to the reins of wickedness, and take what pleasure in the world I could, as to live so melancholy a life, and go to hell at last. But the Lord kept me by an unseen hand, and preserved me, though în imminent danger, from being shipwrecked by either. In these severe exercises I lost my former relish for food, and sleep departed from me. Sorrows encompassed me. Nothing but Christ and his grace was my cry. Give me Christ, or else I die, was the language of my troubled heart. If I thought of getting new clothes, I did not want them; I had as many as I should live to wear out. Death seemed always near, and distressing fears sorely pressed me. Yet, at times, a secret hope of deliverance, some time or other, would a little cheer me. At length, one sabbath morning, as I was thinking on my wretched state, and Satan was insinuating I was the worst of all, and that my case was singular, and therefore I might as well give up all for lost, I knew not what to do nor which way to turn; I heartily wished if there were any as bad as myself, or that had the like exercises, I might know it. Just then I had a new borrowed book in my hand, entitled "Grace abounding to the chief of sinners," by John Bunyan. The book was entirely new to me. I sat down by the fireside and began to read; and as I read, it seemed as if my thoughts and exercises were exactly pictured out by it. I was surprised, and wondered, and still read on till I could read no longer: I could not refrain, I rose and went directly up stairs to give vent to the feelings of my mind. O what sensations I had within! I thought there was mercy for me. I felt happy, thankful, and wonderful! I fell on my knees to pray, but could hardly utter a word, but I wanted not tears, my heart and eyes were running over full: thanks be to God for his mercies to my soul. I suppose here I found justification, (though some to whom I have related my exercise think I did before.) But being inexperienced in the Christian course, like a young sailor, I was tossed about with winds and waves till I was run ashore on the Island of Doubting. On this desolate isle I had a long stay; and during it many troubles. Now I thought I had no religion, and my former exercises were gone. I prayed for conviction, but it was entirely gone. If I felt a degree of peace, I durst not take hold of it for fear I should be deceived. I could feel no convictions for sin, and feared I had sinned them away, and durst not take hold of the promises; and though I felt much opposed to it, was afraid I had gone back to the world. I thought I grew worse and worse, and was a hypocrite, and dared not to tell my mind to any one lest I should be called so. Much concerned because I was not concerned; I passed along in an uncomfortable way full of doubts and fears, though occasionally, transient rays of light and comfort beamed on my mind. Much I suffered for the want of an experienced Christian friend to whom I could freely unfold my state. At length, one day, my doubts seemed to subside, and I felt great peace of mind. Now, thought I, "I'll doubt no more.' "I was going to meeting, and suppose my joy of heart was easy to be perceived in my countenance. I went into the house and sat down; an elderly lady, an acquaintance of mine, observing me, inquired, "Abby, how do you get along now? have you found peace yet?" I |