*When she had a little recovered, I asked her, if Christ was now sweet to her soul? Whereupon, turning to me with tears in her eyes, she said, “I have many times heard you speak of the goodness and the sweetness of Christ, that he was better than all the world. But O! I knew nothing what you meant, I never believed you! I never believed you! But now I know it is true!”――I answered, And do you see enough in Christ for the greatest of sinners? She replied, “O! enough, enough! for all the sinners in the world, if they would but come.” And when I asked her, if the could not tell them of the goodness of Christ: turning herself about to some poor Christless souls who stood by, and were much affected, she said, “O! there is enough in Christ for you, if you would but come! O strive, strive to give up your hearts to him!”――And upon hearing something of the glory of heaven mentioned, she again fell into the same ecstasy, repeating her former expressions, “O dear Lord, do let me go! O what shall I do, what shall I do! I want to go to Christ! I cannot live! O do let me die!” She continued in this sweet frame for more than two hours, before she was well able to get home. I am sensible there may be great joys, where there is no evidence of their being well grounded. But in the present case there seemed to be no evidence wanting, in order to prove this joy to be divine, either in regard of its preparatives, attendants, or consequents. Of all the persons I have seen, I scarce ever saw one more bowed under convictions of sin; and scarce any who seemed to have a greater acquaintance with her own heart than she had. And as she was remarkably sensible of her stubbornness under conviction, so she was no less remarkably reconciled to divine grace, before she obtained relief. Since which she has constantly breathed the spirit of a new creature: crying after Christ, not through fear of _hell_ as before, but with strong desires after him as her only satisfying _portion_: and has many times wept bitterly, because she could not love him.――When I have asked her, Why she appeared so sorrowful, and whether it was because she was afraid of hell? She would answer, “No, I be not distressed about _that_; but my heart is so wicked I _cannot love_ Christ;” and thereupon burst out into tears.――But although this has been the habitual frame of her mind for several weeks, yet she never had any remarkable comfort till this evening.