and thus pursuing my journey, and night overtaking me, was obliged to lay down by the side of an hedge. Here I desire to remark again, the graciousness of the Lord's watching over me, and preserving me from all danger.

Arriving at Plymouth, I soon found employment; and as soon evil company. Many were the dangers and temptations into which I was hurried by the society of those with whom I associated. One circumstance I desire to relate, for I believe it was among the solemn means adopted for my recovery, the first loud voice of Jesus, and intended as a forerunner of a yet more gracious and effectual work on my heart.

It was on a sabbath-day, when, in company with two more, who were very fond of my conversation, we adjourned to a public house. The back part of the house had a room, where we were assembled, which looked towards the church. We began our cups at nine in the morning, and saw the people go and come from church, while we were obeying the devil, and gratifying our drunken lusts. We took dinner, and this was followed with the renewal of our drinking, until the people again assembled for the afternoon worship, perfectly regardless of the day, or of what we saw, in the assembling

of the people for worship. But, when the congregation were coming from the church the second time, my heart smote me most deeply. Indeed it must have been that God who knew me, and, notwithstanding all my vileness, loved me from eternity, and had watched over, and marked my wayward steps; it must have been his arrow of conviction which wounded me to the soul. Rising instantly from my seat, I cried out, I will stay no longer. My companions wondered at my conduct, and entreated me to sit down. I would not. Indeed I could not, for my grief and pain of mind was inexpressible. One of the two asked me to go with him to his house. I complied with his request, and went; but no sooner had I enter ed the door, than a flood of tears relieved for the moment, my full-charged soul.

The persons present were very desirous to know the cause. I told them, that I had broken the sabbath. They endeavoured to stifle my convictions with the usual argument, you have hurt nobody but yourself. But I felt that that was hurt enough. This impression, however, like former convictions, soon wore off. law may alarm, but never can convert. I fell again into my former practices, and became as bad, and, if possible, worse than before.

The

Having at length got settled into steady work, I sent for my wife and child; and notwithstanding in many things I had, by my improvidence and company, spent more than was just as an husband and father, yet through grace, I had been kept chaste and faithful from all acquaintance with women. I received my wife and child with the greatest affection, for my heart sincerely loved them. We soon settled in an house, and lived as most carnal people do, in the enjoyment of all earthly pursuits, as far as our little circumstances would afford.

It was about six months I believe, as far as my recollection enables me to count, after my wife's arrival at Plymouth, that that event took place, in my life, which laid the foundation of all my future character. And as it formed so important a part in my history, I desire to mark the circumstances of it somewhat more particularly.

I was working in the service of my master, on board a ship, near the New Quay, when intelligence was brought by one of our fellowworkmen, that a minister of the name of Whitfield, was going to preach in the open fields, at Teat's Hill, opposite where we were at work. Soon after we heard his voice, and concluding

that the man was mad, we resolved to go over, and knock him off the place on which he stood. We were six of us, as well as I recollect, which joined in this resolution. And I cannot even now proceed in the relation of the account, without stopping to admire and adore, in this instance, as well as what happens in many others, the distinguishing riches of grace. For one of my six companions, not a great while after this, died by the hands of justice, shamefully, at Tyburn.

Away we ran, as if going to take a rich prize, and so it proved indeed to me, and to me only, of the whole company. As soon as we had passed the wall of the French prison, dear Mr. Whitfield opened to our view, extending his arms, and calling with his voice, poor sinners to Christ Jesus. I was struck with amazement; and indeed so arrested, that 1 could not go a step further, until I had given attention to his words. He was preaching, as I afterwards learnt, from Acts xvii. verses 19, 20. I had read somewhat of what he said in the Bible; yet knew no more the meaning than a wild Indian, but was instantly led to conclude, that the man was not, as we had supposed, mad.

The tide being out at that time, I went over

the mud, ashamed of my engagement with my companions, and stood behind some of the people to avoid them. They went round in quest of me, as I supposed, but used no violence, because they had lost their leader.

Every sentence in Mr. Whitfield's sermon was delivered in such a divine, pathetic, and energetic strain, as cut me to the heart; and was enough (God applying it) as it seemed to me, to raise the dead. I went home very different from what I came out, much oppressed in spirit; and as, in the close of the sermon, notice was given that he would preach again on the following evening, I not only resolved to be present, but the time seemed long until the evening arrived. Little did I know that my eternal Lord was thus ploughing up the fallow ground of my heart, in order to sow the seed of eternal grace. Little did I apprehend the gracious designs of his everlasting love towards me, and that he was now making me willing, in the day of his power.

The clock, on the succeeding evening, no sooner struck six, than I threw down my tools, and ran so earnestly, that my feet seemed but scarcely to touch the ground, influenced by a very different spirit to what I had felt before. Oh well may I exclaim, what hath God wrought?