"I never prayed against any corruption I had in my life so much as I did against going into holy orders so soon as my friends were for having me go. Bishop Benson was pleased to honor me with peculiar friendship, so as to offer me preferment, or to do any thing for me. My friends wanted me to mount the church betimes. They wanted me to knock my head against the pulpit too young; but how some young men stand up here and there and preach, I do not know. However it be to them, God knows how deep a concern entering into the ministry and preaching was to me. I prayed a thousand times, till the sweat has dropped from my face like rain, that God of his infinite mercy would not let me enter the church till he called me and thrust me forth in his work. I remember once in Gloucester--I know the room; I look up to the window when I am there and walk along the street--I said, 'Lord, I cannot go; I shall be puffed up with pride, and fall into the condemnation of the devil. Lord, do not let me go yet.' I pleaded to be at Oxford two or three years more. I intended to make one hundred and fifty sermons, and thought that I would set up with a good stock in trade. I remember praying, wrestling, and striving with God. I said, 'I am undone, I am unfit to preach in thy great name. Send me not. Lord, send me not yet.' I wrote to all my friends in town and country to pray against the bishop's solicitation; but they insisted I should go into orders before I was twenty-two. After all their solicitations these words came into my mind: 'Nothing shall pluck you out of my hands;' they came warm to my heart. Then, and not till then, I said, 'Lord, _I will go_; send me when thou wilt.'"