a new heart circumcised to love the Lord, the law of faith written in the mind, and a new spirit put within, will resolve all things, and set all things to rights. The Lord of all lords bless thee!

Ever thine,

W. H.

LETTER LVI.

To the Rev. Mr. HUNTINGTON.

REV. SIR,

my

I HAVE sat under your ministry upwards of eight months, and have got both knowledge and consolation from it; I therefore make bold to write to you, being in great distress, concerning the state of soul. I shall, therefore, without any further apology, proceed (through the assistance of God, if I have any title to it) to lay before you my present deplorable case, and some of my proceedings since I first entered into a profession of religion. I lived from my youth up in all manner of sin, and in the open violation of every law of God; though, in the midst of my career, I was not without checks of conscience, often thinking I was doing wrong, and as often resolving to go to church, and to begin a new way of life. never did, till one day, about ten months

But I

ago, I

was in conversation with an acquaintance, who informed me that a person with whom I was intimate was turned a methodist. This made some impression on my mind, and raised my curiosity to go. and see him; nor was I at ease till I went. When I came to him I turned our discourse to religion as soon as I could, and I agreed with him in all the doctrines of the gospel; for indeed I never had opposed them, being born of a parent that held them. I had indeed assented to the doctrines, but knew no more what they were than if I had never heard them only by their name. I now consented to go to chapel with him; but still did not like the thoughts of turning from my old religion, for indeed I thought it was right till I came to know better.

I then went about from place to place hearing the word, but still I had not left the world; till at last I fixed upon attending your ministry, being very well satisfied and pleased with it. My mind seemed entirely changed; I began to hate the world more and more every day; waiting upon God in his appointed means became my greatest delight; my besetting sins quite left me, nor was I overcome by any temptations. In this way I went on a good while, and enjoyed a great degree of happiness; but all this while I was puzzled to know where I was, for I knew that I was not a believer. I heard you speak a great deal about being condemned by law and conscience, and having a sense of guilt; but nothing of this had I

ever felt at that time, nor was the Saviour ever revealed to me, though I loved both his name and his people. At last I was overtaken, and soon surrounded with grievous temptations, and fell by them: and, as I have often thought, fell never to rise again. I now lost all my former happiness, and from that time to this I have gone on in working, falling, sinning, and repenting. It was at that time I began to see what sin was, and what a depravity there is in my own nature, that I can do nothing good, but that my heart is bent to evil, and that continually. I now got nothing but reproofs and rebukes when I went to hear the word. Sometimes, when the devil has left me for a while, I have thought I should get through my trouble, but then sin came again, and took all these thoughts away.

But the most wonderful intermission I have had was occasioned by a sermon you preached on the sabbath before Christmas, which was from Luke xi. 13, "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?" When I went into your chapel I was in the greatest fit of despair that I ever experienced, and was sure that I had wrought out my own destruction; that God would damn me to all eternity; and that I was the vilest sinner that ever God permitted to live. I had been cursing myself all day, and cursing the day of my birth.

When I got to the chapel I made a most fervent prayer that God would decide my cause one way or other. In the course of the sermon you shewed the working of the Spirit of God upon his people; which was applied to me in such a manner, that I went out in perfect tranquillity, and I enjoyed such perfect peace in my own conscience for a fortnight as I never experienced before.

my

But sin has again taken away all peace from me, and has left me far worse than ever. I have not dared to presume even to pray to God since; heart is as hard as you possibly can conceive,nor can any thing that I can do make any impression upon it. I have painted to myself all the torments that I can conceive, and that God can inflict, through the boundless ages of eternity; but this makes no impression on me, and I can compare myself to nothing but a villain going to the gallows, and, as their expression is, Determined to die game.

Besides there is such a spirit of unbelief within me, that the most blasphemous thoughts enter my mind, and my thoughts are full of cursing and swearing, which I never was addicted to. Now, Sir, I have no hope, nor can I see any possibility that my heart should ever be changed; yet I am so sick of the service of sin and Satan, that I would give all the world to be clear from them. Perhaps you' may say, The grace of God is free; it must be free indeed ever to reach such a wretch as me.

There is another thing seems very puzzling to

me, and that is, why I should still keep going to chapel. I can scarcely apply any thing to myself but what is against me, and I think I shall one day be a disgrace to religion; and though I have bound myself by oath never to go again, yet I have broken through them all the first opportunity. I have strove long ago to trust in God, but never could; and I can only now admire his justice, and ever shall, in punishing such a vile wretch as I am. Now, Sir, I have told you every thing as plain as I can, and have confessed the truth, as far as I am able, in every sense; yet I know I have not represented myself so bad as I am. But if you can conceive of the worst sinner that ever existed, and can send any comfort or advice to such an one, it will be esteemed a favour never to be forgotten

By your most humble servant,

LETTER LVII.

J. S.

DEAR SIR,

To Mr. J. S.

THERE is nothing in your experience or trials but what is accomplished in your brethren that are in the world; nor has any temptation taken