his nature, to yield obedience to his Creator, in every instance. He would readily perceive, therefore, that the covenant would impose no irksome obligation upon him, whatever advantages it might secure to him and his descendants, in the event of his faithful compliance with its condition. And that he did, in fact, acquiesce, is made perfectly plain in the sequel of the sacred history. The tree of life appears to have been the seal or memorial of this covenant; the fruit of which was doubtless eaten, by Adam and Eve, with religious solemnity and thanksgiving.

We

have a remark or two to make on the penalty annexed, and to be inflicted, in case of man's disobedience. It is important to understand its import. It is expressed in language somewhat equivocal: "In the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." It is death, and that in a very extended and awful sense-temporal and spiritual; which would, of course, be eternal, were there no remedy provided. But there is a remedy: and on those who accept it, the second death, or death eternal, can have no power. To suppose that nothing more than temporal death is meant, would be to make the word of God of no effect; for Adam did not die that kind of death, the day that he ate of the forbidden fruit-he continued in this life more than nine hundred years after he became a sinner. But, spiritually, he did die, and that immediately. He was filled with shame-lost communion with God-was driven from paradise, and prohibited the fruit of the tree of life. Whether the blessings of the covenant would have been enjoyed for ever in this world, or whether, in case of Adam's fidelity, he and his posterity would have been removed, in due time, to another state adapted to a higher stage of existence, are questions which it were vain to agitate; for they are questions of mere curiosity, on

which the scriptures are silent. According to God's glorious plan of grace, this world was meant to be but the vestibule of the world to come, and all conjectures about what it might have been, on another plan, are baseless visions.

But were the descendants of Adam included in this covenant? So we are taught from the beginning to the end of the Bible; and we verily believe, that right reason has no solid objection to bring against the doctrine. Paul, the apostle, in his epistle to the Romans (ch. v.) tells us, that "by one man's offence many were made sinners-and that through the offence of one, judgment came upon all to condemnation." The apostle, here, manifestly alludes to the covenant of which we have been speaking. And it seems to us, that no one who is tolerably conversant with the writings of Moses and the prophets, and of Christ and his apostles, can hesitate to admit that the following answer to a question in our catechism, is founded on scriptural authority: "As the covenant was made with Adam, not only for himself, but for his posterity, all mankind, descending from him by ordinary generation, sinned in him, and fell with him, in his first transgression."

But let us look at this matter in the light of reason, as there are those who prefer the less light to the greater. Man was created a moral agent, and he was designed to propagate his species. This species is of great consequence in the universe. It is presumble, therefore, that God would notice them in a way suited to their rank in the scale of creatures; and that in his laws given to, as in his transactions with, the parent of the race, he would have regard to the offspring. Now the covenant in question was calculated to suit man's character as a free, moral, and accountable creature, and to secure important benefits to the whole family, had

the parent held fast his integrity. But he was fallible: he failed, and these advantages are forfeited. And from this sad event, are drawn most of the plausible objections to the

measure.

In the contrary event,

i. e. had the covenant been kept and the blessings been secured, the measure would have been esteemed good by every child of Adam. No one would have had any objection to being made happy, in consequence of the representative character of our great progenitor: and does not this prove, that all objections drawn from the unhappy issue as it actually turned out, are wholly selfish and invalid? Furthermore, let it not be forgotten, that Adam was placed in circumstances the most favourable that can be conceived for retaining his moral rectitude, and for securing the blessings of the covenant to his descendants. On what ground can we flatter ourselves that we would have acted a better part, had we been placed in similar circumstances, and entrusted, each one in succession, with the care of his own virtue and happiness? Such considerations as these should produce in our minds a quiet and filial acquiescence in the counsels and decisions of our heavenly Father, in relation to this momentous and interesting transaction. "The Lord is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his acts." Let us justify him in our hearts, and take shame to ourselves. We are the degenerate plants of a strange vine. By nature we bear the image of the earthy Adam; but, through grace, we may be made like Christ, the heavenly Adam. Redeeming love has provided a remedy for the miseries of our mournful apostacy.

"Joy to the world, the Saviour reigns! Let earth receive her King;

Let every heart prepare him room,
And heaven and nature sing."

W. N.

FOR THE PRESBYTERIAN MAGAZINE.

Some Account of the Religious Exercises and Trials of Mrs. E. J. Written by herself.*

OF MY CONVERSION AND EARLIER

EXPERIENCE.

In the beginning of the year 1806, there was a revival of religion in the place in which I then lived. At this time, I was unusually engaged in the pursuit of what young people are apt to call pleasure: and having heard that numbers of my acquaintance were under concern, some anxiety arose in my mind, lest the cloud should come near and spoil the comfort, which I fancied was to be obtained in vanity and vexation. Notwithstanding all my fears, that religion would interrupt me, I hoped to have grace to die by; for I wished to die the death of the righteous. It pleased the Lord not long after this to show me my situation, by seeing one of my young companions brought under powerful conviction, and by hearing her cry aloud for mercy. I saw my situation to be equally dangerous, but had not so great a sense of it as she had. Now I began to prize religion too highly to have it put by for any other consideration. Now I prized the Christian hope, and thought if I possessed it, I would be content with any situation. I thought I would be fixed in my mind, if ever I did experience religion, not to complain of any pain, or trouble, or privation whatever.

I went to a minister's prayer meeting, in company with deacon H. and family; and there realized

*The following narrative of her religious experience was written by a plain, practical, unlettered Christian woman, who is the consort of a pious farmer. It was undertaken at the request of a friend; and I apprehend will prove useful to many renewed persons, because it is a simple statement, of such a conversion as God often works, and of such temptations as frequently occur. Had her case been more extraordinary, the history of it had been less calculated to do good to many. E. S. E.

that I was not fit to be in company with the servants of the most high God; yet I wanted to hear them so much, that I should have been glad to have crawled under the hearth, for that purpose. They seemed so happy that I could hardly think them mindful of such a creature as I was. After the meeting was concluded, one of them turned towards me, and with a pleasant voice said, "we are praying for just such sinners as you.' This was unexpected, and gave a little hope, that God might hear prayer; and I made some efforts to pray myself; but God appeared a great way off; and as for confidence in Christ, I had none.

In the evening I heard a sermon preached by the Rev. Mr. P. He told us that we must serve the Lord with humble, willing, and obedient hearts. O, I thought I could never attain to this; and might as well not try. The thought, that others had obtained the blessing, and possibly I might, gave me a little courage. Never had I such balancings of mind before; and now, I was more than half determined to go home, and not appear to be under conviction. While I was in this state of mind, Deacon S. said, with firm, yet friendly countenance, "be waiting at wisdom's gates and watching at the posts of her doors." My heart answered, I will. Then I formed the resolution, which, through the goodness of God, I have never voIuntarily broken.

From this time my convictions increased. I saw myself under sentence of condemnation. The law sounded in my ears, "cursed art thou when thou goest out; and cursed art thou when thou comest in." When I went into the meeting-house, this would meet me at the door, "cursed art thou when thou goest in." My heart would answer, "yes, but I hope I shall not be cursed when I come out." And if I did not think of it before, till I came to the door, yet it would meet me there, "cursed art thou when

thou goest out." I had now no friend in heaven nor on earth. Hell was my portion, without getting an interest in Christ, speedily; for it appeared to me that I never should have another opportunity, if I neglected this.

My heart rose against the sovereignty of God. It appeared hard that I did not receive the blessing of religion; I who had sought it so long and so sincerely, while some others who had been serious but a few weeks or days were rejoicing in the Lord. When this doctrine was advanced, I would exclaim, ""tis a hard saying, who can hear it?” Oh! I thought if it was in the power of such and such a minister, (of Mr. P. for instance,) to give me a new heart, I should soon have one; but God appeared to be a great way off, and an enemy, and I had no access to him. Sometimes I gained courage by reflecting, that my parents and my grand parents were praying people; and that I had been devoted to the Lord in baptism.

On the whole, I laid up a considerable store of good deeds, by reading, praying, and attending meetings frequently; and by abstaining from the appearance of evil; though my fears of hell were almost insupportable. At length I heard a sermon preached by, the Rev. Mr. P., in which he showed that all the unconverted do, in religion, is done out of selfish motives. I saw the force of it, and applied it to myself; yea, I thought the preacher meant me, and felt so like a condemned criminal, that I durst not lift up my head, all the forenoon, for I thought all the people knew my guilt. I went home at noon. It was a day devoted by the church to fasting and prayer. Some of the family took a little food, but I hesitated, for those words would come with force upon my mind, "O sinner, tremble when you go to lay your hand upon the bounty of God, and think what it cost: nothing less than the blood of the Son of God."

I went to meeting in the afternoon; and knew but little of the preaching, for the idea that all I had done availed nothing, and that I must give up my own doings, almost killed me. What shall I do? Where can I go? Despair almost seized me. Hope was about to flee for ever. Oh, I envied the meanest dog, because his existence was not an eternal one. Oh that I had never been born! Oh that God would annihilate 'me, or show me some way of escape! I was shut up like the children of Israel at the Red Sea: a mountain on this side; a mountain on that side; the enemy behind, the sea before. Cross it alone I could not, and I had none to help me. I thought that like the lepers, I must die where I was. However, I drowsed a little in the night, and was alarmed when I awoke that I could sleep in so dangerous a condition. I thought I would try once more to make a surrender of myself to the Lord.

"I can but perish if I go,
I am resolved to try."

And now with my whole heart and soul I begged the assistance of the good Spirit, and made a solemn, sincere, and unreserved surrender of my soul and body, of all I have and am, to the Lord Almighty, to be no more my own. If he pleased to save me, I should be saved; if not, I cannot help myself. A calm and peace of mind succeeded, to which before I was a stranger. I arose from my bed, and went about my work as usual, not thinking of any change for some hours; when I began to ask myself, What am I doing? My anxiety is gone. Is the Spirit clean gone for ever? I read in Milton's Paradise Lost the description of hell, but could not get my fears again. I tried to pray, but could not as before ask that the Lord would take my feet out of the horrible pit and miry clay, for a little hope sprang up in my mind. Sometimes people would ask me, if I had

n's

a hope? I did not like to say yes, I could not say no. My prayer w was that I might know that my Redeemer liveth.

I think it was about the 1st of March 1806, that I embraced Christ for my Saviour; but for two weeks I did not know that Christ had ac

cepted of me. I did not allow myself to say, I had a hope: for I was sensible that it was vastly important that I should make a good beginning, should dig deep, and lay the foundation strong. At length I heard a stranger speak in conference meeting, of the offices of Christ; that he was a prophet to reveal the mind and will of God to us; a priest to atone for our sins, to satisfy divine justice, and open a way of access to God; a king in ruling and defending us from all his and our enemies. At this my heart was much affected, tears flowed profusely. This is just such a Saviour as I need. He is the one altogether lovely, the chiefest among ten thousand. What a Saviour! Then the Spirit took of the things that were Christ's, and showed them unto me. While I was returning home in the evening, such a light broke into my mind, that I hardly knew whether I was in the body or not. The unsearchable riches of the love of Christ so enraptured my soul, that I did not know, neither can I now tell, whether I stopped or continued walking. Joy, love, and wonder filled my soul. When I arose, next morning, all things appeared new. I walked out, and saw all creation praising God. The snow was falling, and it was God's snow. thought that the stormy winds fulfilled his word. How easily could I see God in all his works. This feast was too good to be enjoyed alone. I went into the house, and looked around to speak my joys to some one, yet did not feel a freedom. But while I mused, the fire burned, and I thought with Bunyan, "I must tell my joys to the very crows" (if there had been any). Old

I

things had indeed passed away, and behold all things were new. It was a day of the gladness of my heart. I went with willing feet to the nearest neighbour's, where was a professor of religion. As I was going, my heart was drawn out towards God's children. Such a union I had never felt. My first words (after a hearty good morning) were, "aunt, do you feel this union ?" Her answer was, "I think I do." She appeared surprised at my appearance, for she did not know what had passed in my mind the night before. Now I enjoyed the peace of God, that passeth all understanding. Some said "Ah!" you will get into the dark, and doubt all this." I could not comprehend what they meant. I did not know what I should doubt about. My mind was not thinking of my own good estate. I rejoiced that the Lord God Omnipotent did, reign, and thought all might rejoice in this, nor should I want cause of joy as long as the Lord reigned. "The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice," was my text to think upon, from morning till night. Now instead of complaining of the sovereignty of God, I saw that if God was not a sovereign, not one soul would come to him. Now I loved Christians, though ever so disagreeable in nature, if they bore the resemblance of Christ. They appeared nearer to me than the nearest natural relations.

The Bible was truly a new book to me, and my understanding was opened, as I read, and conversed upon God's holy word. I conversed with many friends that enjoyed religion; and to those who knew nothing of it, I must tell the happiness that was to be found in submitting to the Lord, and in the union I felt to Christians. About a week after, an old man, in the last stages of a consumption, sent for me to come and see him. I went, and found him very low. He said, “I heard that you are happy, having found Christ." I told him, that the VOL. I.

Lord in mercy had permitted me to hope in him, and I doubted not but there was mercy for him, if he would believe in Christ. "O, (says he) you are young, your heart is tender; and I am old, and my heart hard.” While I stood looking at him, these lines came into my mind. "Behold a man of three score and ten years, upon a dying bed. He has run his race, and got no grace; an awful sight indeed." If ever I saw the force of these lines, it was now. He looked distressed in body and mind; and had apparently but a short time to live. He asked me, if it was not an awful sight, to see such an old man as he, going out of the world, without an interest in Christ? It was so true that I knew not what to say; but I made him this answer. "Your case is not so

dreadful as if you was going out of the world stupid, or in the belief of false doctrines." He replied, "I once believed in very bad doctrine, or rather, held it up for argument sake. But now, thank the Lord, I do not believe in it. That doctrine will not do to die by." I told him of the woman that did but touch the hem of Christ's garment and was made whole. "I know it," says he, "but she had faith. I am afraid I shall die before my sins are pardoned." I left him in this situation, begging the prayers of all God's children. I never saw him again, but heard he found relief a day or two before his death. This man was apparently a strong Universalist, and argued powerfully to support this deceitful doctrine, that could do nothing but torment him when he most needed support. I returned home solemn, exclaiming,

"Why was I made to hear his voice,
And enter while there's room,
While others make a wretched choice
And rather starve than come."

Now the doctrine of free salvation was a pleasant theme for me to dwell upon. I thought all might be saved, if they would. I thought

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