When I arrived at eighteen, I spent two or three nights in a week at the card-table, to “kill time” and drown the whispers of the Spirit. I thought of enlisting in the army, and then resolved to go to sea: but in the providence of God, a young woman just then engaged my affections; thoughts of the army and the sea were dislodged, and in a few months we were married, depending on our personal exertions for the means of support. We rented a piece of land, and entered upon the scenes and responsibilities of real life. After six months, I was seized with acute inflammatory rheumatism, and the verdict of the physician was, that the disease was incurable, and I must die. Every feature was distorted with agony; and yet the agony of soul at the thought of being dragged into the presence of God with all my sins unpardoned was unspeakably more terrible. I saw that I had shut my heart against the calls of God’s word and Spirit a thousand times, and that I deserved the deepest hell. I tried to pray, but there seemed to be no God to hear, no Saviour to intercede, no Spirit to comfort my lost and wretched soul. As I was recovering, “The Afflicted Man’s Companion,” received from a friend, was greatly blessed to me, and I resolved by God’s help to live the life and die the death of the righteous. The struggle now began in earnest. Such was my agony of soul, that I often went to the woods and rolled on the ground for hours. Most of those around me, for miles in every direction, were living in neglect of God; intemperance fearfully prevailed; there was not one religious friend to whom I could reveal the feelings of my heart. I tried to surrender myself to Christ, but in vain. A voice seemed to follow me continually, “He that is ashamed of me and of my words, of him will I be ashamed before my Father and his holy angels.” I felt that a public acknowledgment of Christ and his cause was the only way of relief; but I shrunk from the duty, wishing to be a secret Christian, and go to the Saviour, like Nicodemus, by night. This distress continued for some months. At length I was enabled to ask a blessing at my table, which seemed a hard task before my then irreligious wife; and after this it was a struggle of six months before I could summon courage to commence family prayer, even on a Sabbath evening. This duty was then performed, and peace of mind followed. After a few months I made known the state of my mind to the officers of a church some miles distant, and was admitted, though with many sore misgivings and fears that I had no right to the Lord’s supper, and was self-deceived. God graciously removed these doubts, and I felt the claims of Christ to do something for others. I first engaged in loaning such good books as I could get, especially The Afflicted Man’s Companion, Doddridge’s Rise and Progress, and Pike’s Persuasives to Early Piety; feeling assured that no one could prayerfully read either of these books without being converted.