dreamed my soul was departed out of the body, and I, with three of my cousins,* (with whom I had a close intimacy, and who I thought had left the body also,) were waiting in dreadful expectation of being summoned to the bar of God; and we all believed our doom would be everlasting darkness! My sins all appeared as in array against me, in the court of conscience, and my mouth was stopped: I had no plea whatever, no hope; for it seemed the justice of God must unavoidably sentence me to endless misery, which I felt to be my real desert; and was bewailing my own folly with bitter cries and lamentations. Their employ I thought was the same; each for ourselves, dreading "the worm that dieth not, and the fire which never shall be quenched!" When suddenly there appeared a cloud of uncommon brightness, and soon after a glorious angel descended in the cloud, and stood before us, clothed in white, with a majesty and beauty not to be described. We beheld his approach with trembling awe, and almost an agony of despair, believing he was sent to summon us to appear, and receive the deserved but dreadful sentence, "Depart, ye accursed!" But to our inconceivable surprise, he smiled on us with heavenly sweetness, and said, "The Lord Jesus Christ has forgiven all your sins, and washed you in his own blood, and I am come to bid you enter into the joy of your Lord, and to conduct you into his blissful presence!" Being now suddenly transported from depths of misery into joy unspeakable, love beyond compare, and extreme delight, I thought I sprung

N. B. These three cousins were Robert Roe, whose experience and death is related in the Arminian Magazine, and two of his sisters, Mary and Frances. These are all asleep in Jesus, and their happy spirits rejoicing before his throne; though at the time of this dream they were utterly unawakened.

up, clapped my hands, leaped for joy, and praised my God in ecstacies unknown before; so that it awoke me! Never did I feel any thing like what I felt in this dream, sleeping or waking, before or after, till the Lord did truly speak my sins forgiven. This made a deep impression on my mind for some time. For a month or two I was very serious and circumspect, and read all the religious books I could meet with. One of these I remember asserted, that we are all to be judged according to our works: therefore, if our good works are more than our evil ones, we are in a fair and sure way for heaven when we die; but if our evil works exceed our good, we may expect condemnation. I thought I would impartially examine myself by this rule, and see what hope I should have for my own soul on these terms. I therefore made a little day book, in which I put down every good and bad action with great sincerity; at the same time praying to God to show me if I was in the way to heaven or not. But then there were many things (as before observed) which I did not account sinful; and again, many things I accounted good actions, because entirely ignorant that an impure motive, in the sight of that God who searcheth the heart, renders our actions, however splendid in the sight of men, abominable before him. Every act of obedience to my elders or superiors, I accounted a good action; as also every prayer I offered, every ordinance I attended, every time I spoke the truth, instead of denying a fault: and in order to swell the number of my good actions, I would sometimes refuse going to a play, or to an entertainment, and read to my mother at home. Nay, with this view I have fasted whole days from morning till evening; but after all I found my bad actions more than my good ones. Yet I went on resolving to be better, and still keeping the ac

count, till being at a dance, I pulled out my day book with my pocket handkerchief, and it was found, and made the jest of the company. I was then so ashamed, that I resolved to follow this method no more.

I met with another book, which affirmed it was impossible to conquer all sins at once; and if everwe would obtain victory, it must be by overcoming first one and then another. Pride and anger felt to be my most besetting sins, and therefore set myself against these in particular. But I was foiled in every attempt, and it seemed, as the poet says,

"The more I strove against its power,

I sinn'd and stumbled but the more." So that this trial only made a more clear discovery that pride was interwoven with my every thought, and word, and action. I was now quite discouraged, and thought it was all in vain to strive for a victory so impossible to gain! I then looked round, and considered the conduct of others; and when I saw them more trifling, more wicked than myself, and some of them, who passed for amiable characters, guilty of things which my soul shuddered at, I began to conclude I was very good, compared with these; and surely all these would not be doomed to hell and damnation !--That God vas merciful, Christ died for sinners, and therefore if I lived a tolerably moral life, he would pardon the rest, and accept me through the merits of Christ in the hour of death; or at least, I had as good a chance as others; and therefore would cast away fear, and live like the rest of my moral neighbours. It was some time, however, before I had so resisted the convictions of the Spirit of God, as to remain at case he strove with me various ways, till I was a little more than fifteen. But I so repeatedly grieved and quenched the motions of that Holy

Spirit, that I was then in some measure given up to my own foolish rebellious heart. Dress, novels, plays, cards, assemblies, and balls, took up the most of my time, so that my mother began to fear the consequences of my living so much above my station in life. But I would not now listen to her admonitions. I loved pleasures, and after them I would go.

What increased my vanity and pride was, that I was much beloved by my godmother, a lady of very considerable fortune, and often spent most of the summer months at Adlington with her; where I was always treated as if she intended to bestow a handsome fortune on me. She introduced me into the company of those in high life, and enabled me, by large presents, to dress in a manner suitable to such company. O how fatal in general are such prospects to a young mind Yet in all this, I still wished to preserve a religious appearance. I still frequented church and sacraments, still prayed night and morning, fasted sometimes, and especially in Lent; and because I did these things, esteemed myself a far better Christian than my neighbours. Yea, so blind was I, that I had a better opinion now of my own goodness than formerly, when I was far more earnest about salvation. What a proof that sin darkens the understanding!

In the summer of 1773, I was at Adlington with my godmother above mentioned; when I heard various accounts of a clergyman whom my uncle Roe had recommended to be curate at Macclesfield, and who was said to be a Methodist. This conveyed to my mind as unpleasing an idea of him, as if he had been called a Romish priest; being fully persuaded that to be a Methodist was to be all that is vile under a mask of piety. These prejudices were owing to the false stories which from

time to time I heard repeated to my father, when about seven or eight years old; and also many more which my mother heard after his death, and to the present time: so that I believed their teachers were the false prophets spoken of in the Scripture: that they deceived the illiterate, and were little better than common pickpockets; that they filled some of their hearers with presumption, and drove others to despair: that with respect to their doctrines, they enforced chiefly, that whosoever embraced their tenets, which they called faith, might live as they pleased, in all sin, and be sure of salvation and that all the world besides must be damned without remedy: that they had dark meetings, and pretended to cast out devils, with many other things equally false and absurd; but all of which I believed. I heard also, that this new clergyman preached against all my favourite diversions, such as going to plays, reading novels, attending balls, assemblies, card tables, &c. But I resolved he should not make a convert of me; and that if I found him, on my return home, such as was represented, I would not go often to hear him.

When I came back to Macclesfield, the whole town was in alarm. My uncle Roe, and my cousins, seemed very fond of Mr. Simpson, and told me he was a most excellent man; but that all the rest of my relations were exasperated against him. I asked, is it true, he preaches against dancing? and said, I was resolved to take the first opportunity of conversing with him, being certain I could easily prove such amusements were not sinful. Being told what arguments he made use of, I revolved them in my mind; fully determined if I found upon reflection I could answer them, I would I first considered if any Scripture example could be brought. I remembered to have read of Miriam's dancing; but it was to express her pious joy to