I went to the sacrament the day I was eighteen, and found uncommon satisfaction: I exhorted others to do the same, thinking I had now done all that was commanded me, and that if I continued in the same way, I should be a very profitable servant. Soon after this I went to _London_, for eight weeks, where I heard Mr. _Jones_ (of _Southwark_) preach, and was affected at hearing of the sufferings of Christ, much as I used to be at seeing or reading of a tragedy. I was afterwards asked to hear Mr. _Romaine_. I did so, but could not understand him. The night I left _London_, some persons were debating about the Millennium. One of them repeated part of the 20th chapter of the _Revelation_. I was struck at the awful words, and thought if Christ was then to come, I was not prepared to meet him. I went home very serious, and began to search the scriptures, and to be more strict than ever. I was often troubled, but knew not the cause, and was ashamed to confess my fears. My friends thought I had a fever on my spirits, and I thought so too; but as I read much, I began to fear, that with all my religion, I was not converted. I wanted to go to _London_, that I might hear Mr. _Romaine_. A year after I went to _London_ with my father-in-law. At the inn where we lay, I saw Mr. _Whitefield_’s sermons. I read what I could, and determined to hear him. He was not in town; but I was much affected with Mr. _Dyer_’s preaching. Afterwards I not only went to St. _Dunstan_’s, but to all the methodist places of worship I knew, and one evening heard Mr. _Walsh_, at _West-street_. He preached the necessity of that _holiness, without which none can see the Lord_. His words were as arrows in my heart: I found all my former righteousness deficient: I knew this could not obtain mercy; but I did not feel I deserved hell. I wrote to Mr. _Romaine_ to know, what I should do to be saved? He desired to see me, and told me, two things were necessary, to know my want of Christ, and my interest in him. I went home with the greatest reluctance; for I knew no Christians in the town where I lived. My former acquaintance thought me mad: my mother was greatly alarmed. Not long after I went to _Norwich_ for a few days, and found out Mr. _Mitchell_. He spoke to me of the peace which faith brings to the conscience. I knew myself a stranger to this; but would willingly have suffered the rack, so I might attain it. I went home, and was, for five or six weeks, in a most unhappy situation. Before, I was not bad enough to come to Christ; now, I was too bad for him to receive; yet the Lord dealt tenderly with me, and at different times brought many encouraging scriptures to my mind. But still the stupidity and unbelief I felt caused me to mourn in secret. Still I was constrained to say,