convictions that I ought to come out from the world entirely, but had not the resolution. By degrees I discovered the emptiness of all created enjoyments, and for a considerable time continued to be unhappy in worldly company. I was often tempted to stay away from the Lord's table. I dreaded death. I knew that I was acting contrary to the law of God, and feared that I should be cast out at last. I was even tempted to wish I had never heard the Gospel in my youth, that it might make a stronger impression on my mind as if I heard it for the first time. I thought that I had sinned away my day of grace, and had become hardened under the droppings of the sanctuary. I prayed the Lord to afflict me, to do any thing to me so that I might attain comfort at last. But still I did not cut with the world-I did not give Him my whole heart. In 1793 I formed an acquaintance with an Irish gentleman, who paid me great attention. I was pleased with him, for he was well read, especially in poetry, of which I was then passionately fond. I gave him no encouragement except my company, which I now think was wrong. He often said that I had but one fault, which was being too religious. Alas! I thought myself any thing but that. One Sabbath evening he persuaded the maid to let him into the room where we generally sat, and on my coming in from attending church the third time that day, I found him there. He immediately began to talk of the folly of going so often to church, and that he hoped to get me where the sound

of the church bell was never heard. I shrank from him with horror, and from that time I determined not only to break with him, but also never to give my company to any man connected with whom I might be exposed to breaking the Sabbath, or to temptation which I was convinced I could not resist. I might have formed a matrimonial connection with a wealthy merchant, but was preserved; or, rather, Providence so ordered circumstances that he who afterward became my beloved husband was the only one who actually proposed to me, which was rather unexpected, as, although he was a frequent visitor and highly esteemed, I knew not at the time of the strong attachment he felt for unworthy me. At the communion table, after my dismissal of my Irish lover, I made a solemn vow that I would never connect myself in marriage with one who was not a decided Christian in profession and practice, but would rather lead a single life.

"During the following winter, say 1793-94, I occasionally went to private parties, and we had sometimes dancing in our house; but I had no relish for such enjoyments. Mr. Bethune told us of Dr. Rodgers's and Dr. Livingston's lectures on Wednesday and Thursday evenings, and also the prayer-meeting on Tuesday evenings, maintained by the Wall Street Church people in their lecture-room on Nassau Street, near Wall (west side). My sister and myself resolved to attend them, which we did. My religious exercises of mind were deepened, but still I was without

assurance. I no longer hungered and thirsted after the world; its pleasures were husks and chaff in my mouth, and bitterness in retrospection; but still I did not altogether decline invitation, partly because my sister wished to go, partly because I knew not what excuse to make, and dreaded the laugh of the world. Toward the middle of the winter I spoke again to my sister, and we agreed to set apart Wednesday and Thursday evenings for attending the lectures of Drs. Livingston and Rodgers, and when invited out on those evenings to answer we 'were engaged.' The very next Thursday we received an invitation from one of our former boarding scholars to an evening party given as a farewell to New York. Upon our returning an answer that we were engaged, she called herself to see if we could not break the engagement, or if we could not go to tea, to come to her as late even as 9 o'clock. To this my sister consented. Never, never shall I forget the lecture of that evening. Dr. Rodgers's subject was the 38th question and answer of the Shorter Catechism: 'What benefits do believers receive from Christ at the resurrection?' Ans. At the resurrection, believers, being raised up in glory, shall be openly acknowledged and acquitted in the day of judgment, and made perfectly blessed in the full enjoying of God to all eternity.' While the good old doctor explained and commented, I inwardly prayed that I might be among that happy number, and felt such a solemnity on my mind that the world and every thing in it seemed like nothing,

and less than nothing. I loathed myself in the sight of God, and asked only one thing, that I might be indeed of the happy number of those described. When coming out of the lecture-room, I asked my sister if, after such a solemn season, she could go to a worldly party? 'No,' she replied; 'not for the world.'. . . That evening Dr. Rodgers gave notice that, as he should necessarily be absent from the city, there would be no lecture on the following Thursday. Next day, or soon after, we received an invitation to a party for that evening; and, as there was to be no lecture, we could not with truth say that we were engaged, and we accepted. I determined to keep it out of my mind as much as possible, and made no additional preparation in dress. I spent some time in prayer to God before I went, earnestly beseeching Him that, if I was doing wrong, He would make a way of escape for me. My mind was very solemn all the evening, and, as I recollect, the master of the house rallied me on being religious, but gave a testimony to the character of Dr. Mason as being 'an honest priest;' that is, consistent in his walk and conversation with what he preached. 'Alas!' thought I, 'am I consistent?' and, looking on the thoughtless crowd flitting in the dance to 'the sound of the viol,' I said to myself, 'Are these the persons who will receive the blessings of eternal life as Dr. Rodgers described them? are these suitable companions for me, if I am a follower of the Lamb?' I danced but little, and I believe that my serious air and listless man

ner gained me no favor with my partners. As we were going down stairs to supper, I lifted up my heart in prayer that I might never again be found in such a scene: . . Judge how I was shocked when the master of the house, standing at the foot of the table, said, 'Ladies and gentlemen, I said grace coming down stairs, to save time;' at which the company laughed heartily. I almost feared to look around, and feared lest the earth should open and swallow us up; but I thought myself the most guilty of all, for I knew better, had been trained in the nurture of the Lord from my youth up, nay, had professed at the table of the Lord to renounce the pomps and vanities of this world. I felt ill; and, declining all entreaties to return to the dancing-room, we ordered our sleigh and went home. I flew to my chamber, and, throwing myself with all my feathers, and flowers, and furbelows on the floor, was dumb before the Lord. I groaned, and wept, and loathed myself under His eyes, who now seemed to leave me in despair. All I remember of my prayer was that I might never be found in the seat of the scorner again. Rising from the floor, I opened my Bible, if perchance the Lord would send me some comfort; but here I was met with these words, the first that presented themselves: 'Woe unto them that are at ease in Zion !' (Amos, vi., 1); and, reading on through the prophecies, I could only find woes denounced against myself; but one thing I resolved, to give myself no rest, night or day, until I found grace in believing; for I felt that the