I began to wonder what I must do. I knew I was not prepared for death and the Judgment. It is true that two of my shopmates, at that time, were members of the church; but they did not seem to care for my soul. All the rest of the hands were as wicked as myself. "What shall I do?" was in my mind, all the time I sat at work. The reflection occurred to me, "Your mother is a christian; it may be she can save you." But this suggestion appeared to be offensive to God. Then came another thought,--"As my master was a rich man, could he not do something to help me?" But I found no relief in either ... and while I sat thus, hoping and praying, light broke into my mind--all my trouble left me in an instant. I felt such a love and peace flowing in my soul, that I could not sit longer; I sprang to my feet, and cried out, "Glory to God!" It seemed to me, that God, whom I had beheld, a few seconds previously, angry with me, was now well-pleased. I could not tell why this great change had taken place in me; and my shopmates were surprised at my conduct, saying, that I must be getting crazy. But, just at this moment, the thought came into my mind, that I was converted; still, as I felt so very different from what I had expected to feel, I could not see how that could be. I concluded to run and see my mother, and ask her how people felt, when they got converted. So I went, right away, to my mother's house, some five or six squares from the shop. When I reached the door of her house, it appeared to me that everything was new and bright. I went in, and sat down. Mother asked me how I was. I told her, I felt _right smart_. This was a new sound from me; for my answers to this question had long been--"_poorly_." But now came the trial; to ask mother how people felt, when they were converted. I felt ashamed to ask the question; so I went into another room; and seeing a hymn book lying on the table, I took it up. The first hymn that struck my sight began with these words: "When converts first begin to sing, Their happy souls are on the wing-- Their theme is all redeeming love; Fain would they be with Christ above. With admiration they behold The love of Christ, which can't be told," &c. These lines expressed my feelings precisely, and being encouraged from them, I went to my mother, and asked her the question--"How do people feel, when they get converted?" She replied, "Do you think you are converted?" Now, this was a severe trial; for, although I felt that I was really changed, yet I wanted to hear from her, before I could decide whether I was actually converted, or not. I replied, "No." Then she said, "My son, the devil makes people think themselves converted, sometimes." I arose, and left immediately, believing that the devil had made a fool of me. I returned to my shop, more determined to pray than ever before.