It was during the hard and severe winter of 1795, that I first heard the words of this life. I was sent on an errand, one Lord’s-day evening, in the month of March, and passing by Mr. Huntington’s chapel, it being the only chapel in the neighbourhood where the gospel was preached, I heard the congregation singing; and as it was night, I thought I should not be seen by any one who knew me, and I therefore ventured in. The good man arose, and took his text, which was in the 3rd chapter of _Zephaniah_, 18, 19, 20. The minister began his sermon about light, I suppose, from the context. What he said I know not; but this I know, I felt as though a ray of light entered into my mind, in a most sensible manner. The scales fell off from my eyes, and I was dissolved into tears: although the text, I believe, was not to be fully accomplished in my experience for many years after. I dumbly apprehend this light was the beginning of my spiritual birth; all convictions, before this period, were attended with bondage, and much legal striving, to obtain the favor of God, by working hard for it; ignorance of the way of salvation; and enmity of the heart against the truth and people of God: but, from this period, I am able to date a change—for, instead of the hatred I had, for some years to the Lord’s people, truth, and ways, I lost my prejudice, and was indeed most warmly attached to the few whom I knew professed the gospel. I read the Word, and what evangelical books were lent me, with new eyes; I saw the minister and people, whom I had despised, in a very different light, and would have given ten thousand worlds to be like them; I saw the excellency, suitableness, and beauty of the Saviour; the importance of the knowledge of God, and the value of pardoning mercy so clearly, that I think I could have died a martyr to see my interest in Christ. I was brought on, gradually, to understand the plan of salvation; the doctrines of the gospel began to open to my wondering view; I found the truth in my mind, like the rising of the light of the day, it shone more and more—and, as I saw it, I loved it, prayed to feel its power, and ran to hear it when I could—though this was chiefly by stealth, for fear of persecution: but, although we ought never to court persecution, yet it is folly to run from it.