sustained at this time was almost insupportable. It appeared that heaven and earth were conspiring against me; and I was deservedly wretched. No reed of hope had I to grasp. The past was sin, the present wretchedness, and the future I scarce dared to look upon: I was verging to despair. "O which way," cried. I, "shall I turn? If I go back, I must die; if I go forward, I can but die. I will go to my God, and if I perish, it shall be at his feet." With a kind of desperate resignation, (if I may use such a term,) I fell on my knees. "Lord," I cried, "I yield, I submit: if thou cast me off for ever, in hell will I praise thee." At that moment a sensation of peace visited my heart; and whether my perception was external or mental, I could then hardly tell; but the following words were sweetly applied to soothe my agitated feelings : "Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." I am certain I heard no voice; but these words were impressed on my mind in a manner as sensible as though they had entered by my organs of hearing. They were accompanied by a persuasion that this was the voice of God to my soul: and had the weight of a mountain been removed from my guilty head, it could not have produced a greater alteration. My soul, at that moment

found power by faith "to lay hold on the Son of God; and I felt the merit of the atoning blood applied to me in particular, as though there was not another sinner in the universe; and I exclaimed aloud, "Here is one Saviour Jesus, for one sinner Caroline."

I arose, and looked around, but how was the prospect changed! I had often admired the romantic banks of the Saco, but never did they appear so beautiful as at the present. The sun was throwing his last rays upon the water, the refracted light faintly streaked the distant mountains, and the scene was charming beyond description. I never see the sun set now, but I recal these feelings to mind, and often bedew their memory with a tear. I felt a calm spread over my soul: God was all around me and within me, and I stood and worshipped in silent rapture. Insensible to every thing but the communion I held with my Creator, and wrapped in an ecstasy that almost suspended my animal functions, I stood in silence, until a little twinkling star aroused me to a new scene of wonder : it seemed to speak the praises of my God. New beauties appeared in every object of creation, and I might have gazed for ever without satiety. The lonely whippoorwill began her accustomed requiem to the departing day;

and it appeared to me that her song was, "Praise the Lord." I could not forbear to join in the lay; and with a light heart set forward, singing as I walked,

"Praise ye the Lord, 'tis good to raise

Your hearts and voices in his praise."

O Julia, could I but make you feel this happiness, could I but make you feel what it is to hold communion with God, you would look with contempt on the honours, wealth, and pleasures of the world, and "count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Jesus Christ."

The vacuity in my mind was now filled : and that indescribable something I had long wanted, I now found to be the religion of Jesus. The day-star of salvation had dawned upon my heart, and I was happy.

To excite in your mind a taste for this happiness, and a determination to seek it, is the object of the present correspondence; and if I succeed in gaining one soul to the love and practice of true devotion, I shall not have lived in vain. Though many of my friends assured me I was the subject of a delusion that would soon wear away, I thank God the experience of seven years has but strengthened the im

C

pression; and if it be enthusiasm, I would that all were as enthusiastic as myself.

Though I have since experienced many sorrows, suffered many privations, been sometimes sorely tempted, and often, to my shame, wretchedly unfaithful, yet still I find religion to be that which brings permanent peace in this world, and promises everlasting repose in futurity. Though I love all Christians, and wish not to prejudice your mind for or against any particular denomination, yet the Methodist Connexion is still my home. I believe I obeyed God when I joined this despised people. My unworthy name still stands among them; and I hope to live and die in the Connexion.

In narrating the circumstances unfolded in this letter, I have many times been obliged to stop to give vent to the feelings of a heart overflowing with gratitude; and humbly adore the riches of that unsearchable love that plucked me as a brand from the fire. I can never be enough thankful that my attention has been called to the interests of my immortal spirit. I can never enough adore the long-suffering goodness of that God who so long bore with his refractory creature, who pursued me by his Spirit amid scenes of multiplied transgression, and brought me at last by a way I had not

known to the enjoyment of his beatific presence here, and to a blessed foretaste of that happiness I hope to share with his faithful followers in that world, where I shall see him as he is.

It is but reasonable that the residue of my days should be the Lord's; and O, my amiable friend, will you not be persuaded to try "the narrow way?" Remember, that one thing is needful; and pray to God to assist you by his Spirit and grace, to make suitable improvement of his mercy.

Adieu.

Remember your

CAROLINE.

LETTER II.

"HENCE, Coward Deist, hence ;

And hence, ye vain and sceptic theories;
Still let me live, and let me die, a Christian."

MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND,

In my last, you will recollect, I proposed to endeavour to excite in your mind a taste for religion. I know not what may have been your former acquaintance with this subject; but as you have never manifested the knowledge of