The change I had experienced in my mind and views, was soon discovered, and no small trouble I gained by it; I was strictly forbidden to hear the Word, and was frequently horsewhipped for going to the meeting, with innumerable jeers and scoffs: this tried me a little; I waxed more bold in the ways of God, and endeavoured to avoid giving any just cause of offence; but I found their carnal hearts, as mine was, at enmity with God; and I must confess, that persecution for the truth sake is often attended with a peace that the world knows nothing of. The Lord carried on his own work, and gave me to see, Christ crucified was the only way to God, to holiness, and heaven. It was not long after I had heard the Word, that I stole away at times to Tottenham-court Chapel, and heard a very solemn sermon, I believe by Mr. Durant, on _Isaiah_, xxvi. and last verses; also, soon after, by Mr. Groves, on the second coming of the Saviour. These were awful subjects, and were attended with stirring me up, to plead hard that I might see my sins pardoned, and my interest clear in the love of God. There is one particular circumstance I shall never forget, which I cannot suppress, as it is warm in my mind, being previously tinctured with Swedenbourgian notions—the Lord not only began to open my mind, to receive the truth, but gave me a most affecting sight of the Saviour, in open vision, in suffering circumstances. I had run to the above place of worship, and Mr. Parsons had delivered a very affecting sermon on, “He, bearing his cross, went forth to a place called Golgotha;” but, alas! I was hard as a stone, during the sermon. At the close, this hymn of (Mr. Whitfield’s Collection) was given out— “When I survey the wond’rous cross On which the Prince of Glory died”— That moment I was favoured with a most solemn and affecting vision of the Saviour on the cross, apparently suspended between the roof of the chapel and the gallery opposite to where I stood; his sacred body appeared of a bluish hue, apparently with the bruises he had received; and the blood appeared to be fresh as it was shed from his hands, his head, his feet, and his side. This continued a few moments, clearly presented to me. I put my hat to my face, to conceal my tears from those around me, and returned home, musing on the affecting sight. But this was not attended with any assurance of salvation, nor could I yet see my interest in _him_, nor call _him_ mine; but it left me more than ever anxious to know the truth clearer, as it is in Jesus. I told an old experimental Christian of it, some time after, and she told me, she had no doubt it was a signal of, my spiritual birth, and that I should one day be called, perhaps, to preach a crucified Saviour to others.