ments, and I began to fear that the love of social enjoyments would, like Aaron's rod, swallow up my best affections. From conviction of error, I sought retirement: I loved reading more than any thing else; but I sighed for variety, and as the full soul loatheth the honey comb, I began to sicken at the constant repetition of devotional books. My father read history, and some few novels, but he took special care to secure those books from his children. We were allowed to read no books but the bible, and volumes based upon this precious depository of whatsoever things are good and excellent. I sometimes, however, glanced my eye over my father's shoulder, and finding Tom Jones, or the History of a Foundling, in his hand, the efforts at concealment, which he evidently made, augmented my anxiety to read. I remember once to have found Clarissa Harlow upon his table. Hervey's Meditations, and Young's Night Thoughts, were not interdicted books, and their plaintive sadness obtained an easy admission into the inmost recesses of my soul. To Milton too I gave some hours, but I could not read blank verse, nor did my father wish to encourage my attempts in this way. He saw I had too strong passion for novelty, and he deemed it prudent to check me in the commencement of my career.

Although my devotional ecstacies were diminished, yet I was steadily attentive to my religious exercises, and I believed myself daily increasing in good. It is true my life was as variable as the weather; sometimes on the mount, and sometimes in the valley, sometimes alive to all the fervor of devotion, and sometimes, alas! very lifeless now rejoicing in hope, and anon depressed by fear.

The preachers, visiting the adjacent villages, often requested my father to permit my attendance; his consent delighted me; I reaped, from those little excursions, abundant satisfaction, and the preachers being my elders, and much acquainted with the world, I collected from their conversation much to instruct and amuse. They were, however, young men; they collected young company, and they were excellent singers; this was a most pleasing circumstance. My affections naturally glowing, I soon formed strong attachments and, the CRAFT of Mr. Wesley changing his candidates with every new quarter, the farewell sermons generally dissolved the whole congregation in tears, and my bosom was often lacerated with many and deep wounds.

An order from the Bishop now arrived, calling upon the people to prepare for confirmation, and young persons were directed to wait upon their parish minister for the requisite instruction. Although the Methodists considered themselves Episcopalians, yet they were detested by the clergy of that church; their zeal seemed a standing satire upon them; and their indignation was proportioned to the progress made by the new sect. We, however, presented ourselves as candidates for confirmation; though young, I was pretty generally known, and it soon became evident, that I had incurred the displeasure of my minister. No question was proposed to me, but his oblique reflections were abundant: I determined,

however, to address him; and one day when he was cautioning those who were honored by his attention, against those expectations about which the wild enthusiasts of the day were fanatically raving, such as the extraordinary operations of the spirits, &c. &c., exhorting them to consider themselves in their baptism made members of Christ, and inheritors of the kingdom of heaven, I ventured to ask: Did I, sir, in my baptism, receive all the advantages? In a most ungracious manner, he replied: 'Undoubtedly.' Then, sir, allow me to ask, What can I want more? Of what use is confirmation? What do you mean by asking these impertinent questions?' I ask for information: I came hither to be instructed. 'No, you came here to instruct me; you want to see your patron, John Wesley, in the pulpit. You have no business here. I conceive, sir, I have business here; I am one of your parish. I was warned to attend, for the purpose of receiving instruction; and to whom should I apply but to my minister? He deigned not to answer me, but when we again assembled, I observed: I remember, sir, when we were last here, you told us, there was no such thing as a feeling operation of the spirit of God; I request therefore to know, how we are to understand that article of our church, which pronounces the doctrine of election full of especial comfort to all godly persons, and such as feel in themselves the workings of the spirit of the Lord? You have nothing to do with the articles; you do not understand them.' I should suppose, sir, that every member of a church had something to do with the articles of his church; and if I do not understand them, suffer me to come to you for information. 'You are an impertinent fellow, and if you thus proceed, I shall order the clerk to put you out of the church.' You may order me out yourself, sir; only tell me to go, and I will instantly depart. Not another syllable was uttered to me, upon this occasion. But upon the following Sunday, when the young people of the congregation were again to be catechised, I appeared with the rest, and our teacher uttered a severe and pointed sarcasm. I was sufficiently abashed to cover my face with my hat-when, in a very angry tone he commanded me to depart from the church, he would suffer no laughter there. I assured this christian preacher, that I did not laugh, that I felt no disposition to laugh; he insisted, that I did, and with great confusion I withdrew from the altar; but waiting for him in the porch of the church, I humbly implored his pardon, while I informed him, that he had done me much wrong; that I had too sacred a veneration for the place I was in, to deport myself unbecomingly while under its roof; that I had not the smallest inclination to mirth; that the consideration of his denying the operation of the spirit upon the heart had too much disturbed and grieved me. 'Well I do still say, there is no especial operation of the spirit: I have never experienced any thing of this description.' How then, suffer me to ask, could you say, when you were ordained, that you felt yourself moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon you the office of a teacher? You know nothing of the mat

ter; you are very impertinent.' Many were standing by, who seemed pleased with the advantage I had so apparently gained, and while thus remunerated for the insult I had received, I returned home in triumph.

Some time after, as I was passing the street, one of my acquaintance asked me, if I knew the bishop was at that moment engaged in confirming the young people of our parish? I instantly repaired to the church, and, to my great surprise, found the information correct; my good priest had not intended I should be apprized of the business. I advanced however to the altar, and presented myself to the bishop. My priest appeared exceedingly irritated, and made a communication to the bishop, in a tone too low to be understood by me; but his lordship replied alout, 'It is of no consequence what they are, provided they understand what they are about. From this reply I concluded the priest had accused ine of Methodism. It happened, that I was the first of the circle presented round the altar, and he began as follows:

Bishop. What is your business here?

Murray. My lord, when I was baptized, my sponsors promised, in my name, to renounce the devil and all his works, the pomps and vanities of this wicked world, with all the sinful lusts of the flesh. They engaged also, that so soon as I should have learned the creed, the Lord's prayer, and the ten commandinents, they would introduce me to this ordinance; as, however, they have neglected so to do, I beg leave to present myself.

Bishop. What idea have you of this ordinance?

Murray. I conceive, my lord, that the engagements entered into at my baptism, cannot be fulfilled without the aid, and operation of the spirit of the Lord; and I am taught to consider this ordinance as a means of grace, through which I may obtain the aid of the Holy Spirit, so requisite to my well doing.

Bishop. (With a softened voice) Have you ever been at the communion?

Murray. Yes, my lord, and although I ventured at first with fear and trembling, yet deriving therefrom real consolation, I have never since absented myself. You are right, said the Bishop, and immediately laying his hands upon my head, he prayed for me, with the greatest apparent fervor. Turning to a lad, who stood next me, he asked him the same question he had previously addressed to me: he was unprovided with an answer. This is astonishing,' said the bishop; 'I should have thought you would at least have learned to answer from the youth who spoke before you; and he gave my priest a glance, which called the blush of confusion into his face. I was extremely gratified, so were my friends in general, and my pious father in particular. Mr. John Wesley now made us a visit, he paid me the most distinguishing attention, and the regards of such a man were, to a young heart, truly flattering; he cherished the idea, that I should shortly become a useful laborer in the field, which he so sedulously cultivated.

One thing, however, gave him anxiety,-the probability that I had imbibed my father's damnable principles, for such he denominated the Calvinistic tenets; yet he hoped better things of me, and things which accompanied salvation. When in my father's house, he manifested toward him the greatest kindness and friendship; but on leaving the country, he charged his followers to keep a strict watch over him, lest, through the influence of his great piety, he should infuse his abominable sentiments into the minds of some of the brethren. Mr. Wesley's disciples considered him the apostle of the age and I experienced a reverential awe in his presence; yet there were points in his conduct, which excited my wonder, and which, in any other character, I should not have hesitated to pro- nounce wrong; but I should have believed it criminal even to suspect that he could err. My religion was becoming more and more formal, it seemed a body without a soul. Sometimes, indeed, when listening to a lively, warm-hearted preacher, I was made most keenly to feel the poverty of my condition; that, while I was believed rich, and increasing in goods, having need of nothing, I was in truth miserably poor, blind, and naked. This consideration often rendered me sad, in proportion as I appeared to suffer: I became the object of respectful attention. Glooms, and melancholy, were considered as infallible signs of a gracious disposition, not only by my father, but by all my religious connexions. One of our preachers used to say, he had rather be in the company of a thousand demons, than ten laughing persons! Unfortunately for the maintenance of my standing in the society, my sadness was not uniform, and, preserving no medium, I always became gay in full proportion to my previous depression; and, in truth, cheerfulness was becoming the prevailing temper of my mind, and I know not how long it might have continued so, if I had not observed, to my great consternation, that I was daily losing ground in the estimation of my associates. This conviction banished my dangerous vivacity, and restored my respectability. I now sedulously avoided society, and frequently envied those who were released from this dangerous world. I have often, after a night of suffering, risen with the dawn, and entering the church-yard, have passed hours there, contemplating the happy state of those who were lodged in their narrow house, and ardently longing to be as they were. Even my father began to fear that I was rapidly declining, and by his consequent tenderness I was beyond expression touched.

I cannot now determine how long this frame of mind continued, but this I know, that it lasted long enough to gain me more reputation, both at home and abroad, than I had lost; there was such a variety in my feelings, the changes in my spirit from sad to gay, from gay to sad, were so frequent, that I had of course far more experience than any other person of my age. The young, when under awakenings, always resorted to me for comfort and information, while the old hung with delight on my narrations: the prayers of my father obtained due credit; the child of so many prayers

could only be as I was. I was at this time about sixteen years of age, but commencing life so early, I felt like twenty, and I anticipated all the enjoyments which awaited me.

About this period, (1757) our society was gratified by a most unexpected acquisition. A gentleman of great fortune, who had been a virulent opposer of the Methodists, became a zealous convert to their tenets, and with his lady, joined our congregation: no event had ever given such exultation, such complete satisfaction. They had belonged to the Presbyterian meeting, and their numerous kindred, worshipping there, continued inveterate adversaries. Between my father and the new convert the warmest friendship took place; and his good lady, who was indeed one of the first of women, became as warmly attached to our family as her husband. They had been converted at the same time; and as new converts are always the most zealous, this good couple, although advanced in years, used to rise at four in the morning, in the depth of winter, and go round among the neighbors, in order to arouse them in time to attend morning service, which was regularly at five o'clock, winter and summer; our house being in the way, they never omitted calling upon us: my father was not always well enough to accompany them, but I never failed, and the delight they took in me was great. Their family consisted of two sons, one older than myself, and one of my own age, and two daughters younger than their brothers: for a long season this family and ours spent at least a part of every day together; they met constantly at church, and had beside many private interviews. Mr. Little, the name of our new friend, belonged to a class of which my father was the leader, and Mrs. Little to my mother's band. The classes generally consisted of twelve, beside the leader. The band was formed from the classes, and consisted of six, beside the leader. These bands were composed of true believers, and of one sex and condition: the single women, the married women, and the widows; the single men, the married men, and the widowers. My mother was a leader of a band of married women. The youth I have mentioned, of my own age, sought and obtained my confidence; I cor.ceived for him the warmest affection, and I had every reason to suppose the attachment mutual: we passed many delightful hours together, and the discovery of our friendship gave real satisfaction to our parents. The eldest son adhered to the church the family had left; and the only daughter who was of age to decide, embraced the principles of her parents. From our connexion with these worthy people, I derived great pleasure; I was much beloved by the principals of the family, and I had great delight in the society of their children. I have frequently retired with my young friend to read, and pray: we had in fact no solitary pleasures. It was in the closet of this friend, that I first became acquainted with Addison, Pope, Parnell, Thomson, and Shakspeare; we read those writings together; never shall I forget the avidity with which I seized, and the delight with which I perused those authors; I was beyond expression fas