She seemed surprised, and asked me what was the matter. I replied, that I should never again attend such a party. I continued of the same opinion during the day, and felt much pleased with such a good opportunity of trying myself. Monday evening, the daughters of——sent in to invite me and my sisters to spend the evening with them, and make a family visit. I hesitated a little, but considering that it was to be a family party merely, I thought I could go without breaking my resolutions. Accordingly I went, and found that two or three other families of young ladies had been invited. Dancing was soon introduced ; my religious plans were forgotten ; I joined with the rest—was one of the gayest of the gay—and thought no more of the new life I had just begun. On my return home, I found an invitation from Miss——in waiting, and accepted it at once. My conscience let me pass quietly through the amusements of that evening also ; but when I retired to my chamber, on my return, it accused me of breaking my most solemn resolutions. I thought I should never dare to make others, for I clearly saw, that I was unable to keep them.
“From December 1805 to April 1806, I scarcely spent a rational hour. My studies were slightly attended to, and my time was mostly occupied in preparing my dress, and in contriving amusements for the evening, which portion of my time was wholly spent in vanity and trifling. I so far surpassed my friends in gaiety and mirth, that some of them were apprehensive, that I had but a short time to continue in my career of folly, and should be suddenly cut off. Thus passed the last winter of my gay life.
“In the spring of 1806, there appeared a little attention to religion, in the upper parish of Bradford. Religious conferences had been appointed, during the winter, and I now began to attend them regularly. I often used to weep, when hearing the minister, and others, press the importance of improving the present favourable season, to obtain an interest in Christ, lest we should have to say. The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved. I thought I should be one of that number ; for though I now deeply felt the importance of being strictly religious, it appeared to me impossible I could be so, while in the midst of my gay associates. I generally sought some retired corner of the room, in which the meetings were held, lest others should observe the emotions I could not restrain ; but frequently after being much affected through the evening, I would return home, in company with some of my light companions, and assume an air of gaiety very foreign to my heart. The Spirit of God was now evidently operating on my mind ; I lost all relish for amusements ; felt melancholy and dejected ; and the solemn truth, that I must obtain a new heart, or perish for ever, lay with weight on my mind. My preceptor was a pious man, and used frequently to make serious remarks in the family. One Sabbath evening, speaking of the operations of the Holy Spirit on the hearts of sinners, a subject with which I had been hitherto unacquainted, he observed, that when under these operations, Satan frequently tempted us to conceal our feelings from others, lest our conviction should increase. I could hear him say no more ; but rose from my seat, and went into the garden, that I might weep in secret over my deplorable state. I felt that I was led captive by Satan at his will, and that he had entire controul over me. And notwithstanding I knew this to be my situation, I thought I would not have any of my acquaintance know that I was under serious impressions, for the whole world. The ensuing week, I had engaged to be one of a party to visit a young lady in a neighbouring town, who had formerly attended the academy. The state of my mind was such, that I earnestly longed to be free from this engagement, but knew not how to gain my end, without telling the real reason. This I could not persuade myself to do ; but concluded, on the morning of the appointed day, to absent myself from my father’s home, and visit an aunt, who lived at some distance, and who was, I had heard, under serious impressions. I went accordingly, and found my aunt engaged in reading a religious magazine. I was determined she should not know the state of my mind, though I secretly hoped, that she would tell me something of hers. I had not been with her long, before she asked me to read to her. I began, but could not govern my feelings, and burst into tears. She kindly begged to know what thus affected me. I then, for the first time in my life, communicated feelings which I had determined should be known to none but myself. She urged the importance of my cherishing those feelings, and of devoting myself entirely to seek an interest in Christ, before it should be for ever too late. She told me, that if I trifled with impressions which were evidently made by the Holy Spirit, I should be left to hardness of heart, and blindness of mind. Her words penetrated my heart, and I felt resolved to give up every thing and seek to be reconciled to God. That fear, which I had ever felt, that others would know that I was serious, now vanished away, and I was willing that the whole universe should know that I felt myself to be a lost and perishing sinner. I returned home, with a bursting heart, fearing that I should lose my impressions, when associated with the other scholars, and convinced that if I did, my soul was lost. As I entered my father’s house, I perceived a large party of the scholars assembled to spend the evening. It will be the height of rudeness, thought I, to leave the company ; but my second thought was, if I lose my soul, I lose my all. I spoke to one or two, passed through the room, and went to my chamber, where I spent the evening, full of anxiety and distress. I felt that if I died in that situation, I must perish; but how to extricate myself I knew not. I had been unaccustomed to discriminating preaching; I had not been in the habit of reading religious books ; I could not understand the Bible ; and felt myself as perfectly ignorant of the nature of true religion, as the very heathen. In this extremity, the next morning, I ventured to ask the preceptor what I should do. He told me to pray for mercy, and submit myself to God. He also put into my hands some religious magazines, in which I read the conviction and conversion of some, who, I perceived, had once felt as I now felt. I shut myself up in my chamber; denied myself every innocent gratification, such as eating fruit and other things, not absolutely necessary to support life, and spent my days in reading and crying for mercy. But I had seen, as yet, very little of the awful wickedness of my heart. I knew not yet the force of that passage, The carnal mind is enmity against God. I thought myself very penitent, and almost prepared, by voluntary abstinence, to receive the divine favour. After spending two or three weeks in this manner, without obtaining the least comfort, my heart began to rise in rebellion against God. I thought it unjust in him, not to notice my prayers and my repentance. I could not endure the thought, that he was a sovereign God, and had a right to call one and leave another to perish. So far from being merciful in calling some, I thought it cruel in him to send any of his creatures to hell for their disobedience. But my chief distress was occasioned by a view of his perfect purity and holiness. My heart was filled with aversion and hatred towards a holy God ; and I felt, that if admitted into heaven, with the feelings I then had, I should be as miserable, as I could be in hell. In this state, I longed for annihilation ; and if I could have destroyed the existence of my soul, with as much ease as that of my body, I should quickly have done it. But that glorious Being, who is kinder to his creatures than they are to themselves, did not leave me to remain long in this distressing state. I began to discover a beauty in the way of salvation by Christ. He appeared to be just such a Saviour as I needed. I saw how God could be just, in saving sinners through him. I committed my soul into his hands, and besought him to do with me what seemed good in his sight. When I was thus enabled to commit myself into the hands of Christ, my mind was relieved from that distressing weight which had borne it down for so long a time. I did not think, that I had obtained the new heart, which I had been seeking, but felt happy in contemplating the character of Christ, and particularly that disposition, which led him to suffer so much, for the sake of doing the will and promoting the glory of his heavenly Father. A few days after this, as I was reading Bellamy’s True Religion, I obtained a new view of the character of God. His justice, displayed in condemning the finally impenitent, which I had before viewed as cruel, now appeared to be an expression of hatred to sin, and regard to the good of beings in general. A view of his purity and holiness filled my soul with wonder and admiration. I felt a disposition to commit myself unreservedly into his hands, and leave it with him to save me or cast me off, for I felt I could not be unhappy, while allowed the privilege of contemplating and loving so glorious a Being. I now began to hope, that I had passed from death unto life. When I examined myself, I was constrained to own, that I had feelings and dispositions, to which I was formerly an utter stranger. I had sweet communion with the blessed God, from day to day ; my heart was drawn out in love to Christians of whatever denomination ; the sacred Scriptures were sweet to my taste ; and such was my thirst for religious knowledge, that I frequently spent a great part of the night in. reading religious books. O how different
