let them remember also that word, The friendship of this world is enmity with God.

Fourthly. I saw myself as a steward, who must render an account for every talent, and that it was my privilege to have the smiles of God on every moment of my time, or penny of money which I laid out.

Fifthly. I saw clearly that the helping my fellow creatures in their need, was both more rational, and more pleasant, than spending my substance on superfluities; and as I am commanded to love my neighbour as myself, and to consider all done to the household of faith as done to Christ, surely I ought not only to suffer my superfluity to give way to their necessity, but also (as occasion may require) my necessities to their extremities.

Sixthly. But it is not only the talent of money, but of time, which is thrown away by conformity to the world, entangling us in a thousand little engagements, which a dress entirely plain cuts through at once.

Seventhly. The end usually proposed by young persons in their dress is such as a devout soul would abominate. A heathen may say, It will promote my being comfortably settled in life; but I believe the Lord appoints the bounds of our habitation, and that no good thing shall be withheld from those who walk uprightly. I have therefore nothing to do, but to commend myself to God, in holy obedience, and to leave every step of my life to be guided by his will. I will therefore make it my rule to be clean and neat, but in the plainest things, according to my station; and whenever I thought on the subject, these words would pass through my mind with power, For so the holy women of old adorned themselves.

As soon as I saw my way clearly, I ventured to open my mind to my father concerning dress, as I had done before with regard to public places; entreating him to bear with me while I endeavoured to show him my reasons for refusing to be conformed to the customs, fashions, and maxims of the world. He heard me with great patience; and as I loved him tenderly, it came very near me to oppose him. My trials increased daily. I was perplexed to know how far to conform, and how far to resist. feared, on the one hand, disobedience to my parents, and on the other, disobedience to God.

I

My dear mother had sometimes expressed a belief that it would be better for the family if I were removed from it, lest my brothers, who were younger than I, should be infected by my sentiments and example. Yet she did not see it clear to bid me go; but rather wished me to depart of my own accord. The furnace now became hot; but I did not dare to come out without the Lord. Indeed, could there have been any amicable agreement between us, and that I had my parents' leave to live elsewhere, I would gladly have accepted it. I even made some distant proposals of this kind, but they never saw it good to concur. Providence thus overruled my desire for wise ends: and to run away from my father's house, I could not think of. I was twenty-one years of age, and had a small fortune of my own. I saw myself on the verge of a material change, and it was easy to discern that my father's house would not long be a refuge for me; but in what manner I should be removed, or what trials I might yet have to go through, I could not tell. The continual language of my heart was, I am oppressed: Lord, undertake thou for me.

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One day my father said to me: "There is a particular promise which I require of you; that is, that you will never, on any occasion, either now, or hereafter, attempt to make your brothers what you call a Christian." `I answered, (looking to the Lord,) " I think, sir, I dare not consent to that." He replied, "Then you force me to put you out of my house." I answered, "Yes, sir, according to your views of things, I acknowledge it; and, if I may but have your approval, no situation will be disagreeable." He replied, "There are many things in your present situation which must be, I should think, very uncomfortable." This I acknowledged, and added that if he would but say he approved of my removal, I would take a lodging which I had heard of at Mrs. Gold's, in Hoxton-square; but that no suffering could incline me to leave him, except by his free consent. He replied with some emotion, “I do not know that you ever disobliged me wilfully in your life, but only in these fancies; and my children shall always have a home in my house." As I could not but discern a separation would take place, (though I knew not how nor when,) I judged it most

prudent to take the lodgings, that in case I should be suddenly removed, I might have a home to go to; which I preferred to the going into any friend's house as a visiter. I also hired a sober girl, to be ready whenever I might want her. I informed my mother, a short time after, of the steps I had taken. She gave me two beds, one for myself, and a little one for my maid; and appeared to converse on it in a way of approval. Something, how. ever, seemed to hold us, on both sides, from bringing it to the point.

For the next two months I suffered much; my mind was exercised with many tender and painful feelings. One day my mother sent me word, "I must go home to my lodgings that night." I went down to dinner, but they said nothing on the subject; and I could not begin it. The next day, as I was sitting in my room, I received again the same message. During dinner, however, nothing was spoken on the subject. When it was over, I knew not what to do. I was much distressed. I thought, if they go without saying any thing to me, I cannot go; and if they should not invite me to come and see them again, how shall I bear it? My mind was pressed down with sorrow by this suspense. Just as they were going out, my mother said, "If you will, the coach, when it has set us down, may carry you home to your lodging." My father added, "And we shall be glad to see you to dinner next Tuesday." This was some relief. I remained silent. When the coach returned, I ordered my trunk into it; and struggling with myself, took a kind of leave of each of the servants, as they stood in a row in tears, in my way out of the house. About eight o'clock I reached my lodging.

It consisted of two rooms, as yet unfurnished. I had neither candle nor any convenience. The people of the house I had never seen before, only I knew them by character to be sober persons. I borrowed a table and a candlestick, and the window seat served me as a chair. When bolting the door, I began to muse on my present situation.

I am, said I, but young-only entered into my twenty. second year. I am cast out of my father's house. I know the heart of a stranger; but, alas! how much more of it

may I yet have to prove! I cried unto the Lord, and found a sweet calm overspread my spirit. I could in a measure act faith on these words: "When thy father and thy mother forsake thee, the Lord shall take thee up." The following reflections also arose in my mind: I am now exposed to the world, and know not what snares may be gathering around me. I have a weak understanding, and but little grace. Therefore, now, before any snare has entangled me, I shall form a plan for my future conduct, and endeavour to walk thereby. First, I will not receive visits from single men, and in order to evade the trial more easily, I will not get acquainted with any; I will, as much as possible, refrain from going into any company where they are. Secondly, I will endeavour to lay out my time by rule, that I may know each hour what is to be done: nevertheless, I will cheerfully submit to have these rules broken or overturned, whenever the providence of God thinks fit to do so. And thirdly, I will endeavour to fix my mind on the example of Jesus Christ, and to lead a mortified life; remembering, "He came not to be ministered unto, but to minister."

The prejudices of education are strong, especially in those persons who have been brought up rather in high life. The being removed from a parent's habitation seemed very awful. I looked on myself as being liable to a deep reproach, and trembled at the thought. But I remembered that word, "He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me."

My maid being now come, and having lighted a fire in the other room, and borrowed a few things of the family, she begged me to come into it, as the night was very cold. And now my captivity seemed turning every moment. That thought, I am brought out of the world; I have nothing to do but to be holy, both in body and spirit, filled me with consolation. Thankfulness overflowed my heart; and such a spirit of peace and content poured into my soul, that all about me seemed a little heaven.

Some bread, with rank salt butter, and water to drink, made me so comfortable a meal, that I could truly say, I ate my meat with gladness and singleness of heart. As the bed was not put up, I laid that night almost on the ground, and the windows having no shutters, and it being a bright

moonlight night, the sweet solemnity thereof well agreed with the tranquillity of my spirit. I had now daily more and more cause for praise. I was acquainted with many of the excellent of the earth, and my delight was in them. Yet I was not without my cross; for every time I went to see my dear parents, what I felt when, toward night, I rose up to go away, cannot well be imagined. Not that I wished to abide there; but there was something in bidding farewell to those under whose roof I had always lived, that used to affect me much, though I saw the wise and gracious hand of God in all; and that he had by this means set me free for his own service. From my heart I thanked him as the gracious author, and them as the profitable instruments, of doing me so great a good. My mother was frequently giving me little things; and every renewed mark of kindness made the wound to bleed afresh.

There was, in the years sixty-one and sixty-two, a very great revival among the societies, both in London and many other places; and an earnest desire was stirred up in many hearts after full salvation. Prayer was made without ceasing by the faithful, "That the glory of God might go forth as brightness; and his salvation as a lamp that burneth." These prayers were answered in a very powerful manner. The Spirit was poured out on some in such a degree as can hardly be conceived, but by those who felt the Divine influence. Not only Mr. Wesley and Mr. Maxfield were in an uncommon manner blessed in their preaching; but many simple persons, both men and women, were lively harbingers of the approaching pentecost, and cried aloud, The kingdom of heaven is at hand! The mighty power of God was seen on every side! Christ was held out as a complete Saviour; and represented to the eye of faith as crying out on this festal day, “If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink; he that believeth on me, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. ." These rivers did, indeed, flow from heart to heart. The gift of victorious faith was given to many, not only for themselves but others. A clear light shone on these truths: "They that are in Christ are new creatures; old things are passed away, and all things become new. The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." The whole