and to do. The work can go on no further than man goes on with God in it; nor can a birth of God, any more be brought forth in man, without the man's co-action, than outwardly the man is without the woman. Neither can the new birth ever be effected by man himself, without the overshadowing of the holy ghost upon him, any more than outwardly the woman is without the man. God, of his mere free grace and goodness, visits, invites, woos, and overshadows the mind of man: if man joins in and works with God, the work goes forward, the new birth is brought forth, and thus the soul's salvation is wrought out; that is, man is joined to the Lord in the heavenly oneness, wherein his fellowship is with the Father, and with his son Jesus Christ.

But if man slights, neglects, turns from, or rebels against this precious visitation, and overshadowing of the holy spirit, he remains in a state of separation and alienation from God. Thus many are called, but few are chosen," because though "all have heard," yet they have not all obeyed the call. Many disobey, and grievously rebel against the holy spirit, that " is given unto every man to profit withal." But though a man rebel to that degree, as to render himself almost insensible of it, for a time, yet it will again speak, and, in an awakening manner, declare unto man his thoughts. It will, as it were, strike up a light in obscurity, that will manifest the hidden things of dishonesty, notwithstanding all the artful reasonings of flesh and blood, or cunning evasions of worldly wisdom, by which God never was, nor can be known.

The man who walks humbly in the sight of God, and transgresses not the testimony of truth in his own heart, is in the way to eternal blessedness, let his belief be whatever it may, or his allotment in whatever dark corner of the earth it may be; while he who rebels against the light that shines in his own heart, let his profession be ever so splendid, his faith ever so literally orthodox, or his zeal ever so ardent, he is not in the way of life and salvation, but is in the way of danger; and if he persists in such rebellion, will inevitably perish. Man may, and too often does, resist and grieve the holy spirit, turn the grace of God into wantonness, or turn from it to wantonness; and thus VOL. I.-17

he may provoke the Lord from time to time, till his spirit cease to strive with him, and till he be shut up in everlasting dark

ness.

O thou wise reasoner! thou acute disputer, and cunning unbeliever! Though thou mayst set at defiance, the just judgments of God, and endeavour to eradicate from thy mind every idea of future punishment, and to overthrow the foundation of moral obligation;-believe me, thy wisdom is foolishness; thy liberty is bondage; thy life is a life of thraldom; and, without amendment, thy end will be disappointment. Tribulation and anguish will find thee. The worm that dies not, and the fire that is not quenched, thou wilt not be able to escape. These are solemn things. I entreat thee, sport not away thy precious moments. For thy own soul's sake, I beseech thee, be serious. Say not, these awful apprehensions of futurity are the vain imaginations of an infatuated mind, or the idle dreams of a distempered fancy. I tell thee, thou art mistaken. But, perhaps thou dost not, or rather, wilt not, believe me: however, it highly behoves thee to consider seriously, that at least thou mayst be mistaken. I would advise thee, if thou art cool enough for calm reflection, to try whether thou canst find an answer, that will satisfy thy own conscience, to each of the following queries.

First. What is that in my own mind, which condemns me for sin, or for opposition to its own manifestations?

Second. Why can I not, by all my art and reasoning, so stifle it, but that it will, at times, break forth, like the sun through the clouds, setting my sins in order before me? or, at least, accusing me with defection, and reproaching me with a sense of my own wretchedness?

Third. Has chance woven this condemning witness, into all men's constitutions? Is it in me, and in all, undesignedly, and for no good purpose? Or, has the God of nature placed it in every mind, and, as it were, stamped it on every heart, in order to the restraint, restoration, and preservation of mankind?

Fourth. Can it be of the devil? Will he reprove and condemn the very actions which he inclines me to?

Fifth. Can it be merely natural? Will nature condemn for

its own gratifications? Is nature up in arms against itself? Are not two things, which are constantly and irreconcilably opposite to each other, of different natures?

Sixth. Have I any reason to believe, that God would subject me, and all mankind, to the tormenting sting of this condemning principle, through the whole course of life, when it is violated and its jurisdiction infringed, and that beyond the possibility of getting fully rid of it, or long avoiding its scourges; and yet that he will, though we live and die in rebellion against it, the moment after death, remove it from us, so that we never more shall feel its sting?

Seventh. Have I not much more reason to believe, that when separated from every thing which, in this life, serves, in degree, to drown its voice, or divert my attention from it, to blunt the painful sensibility of its influence, and alleviate my distress, I shall sink into the gulf of its tormenting operation, feel the full force of its power, and be obliged to drink the full cup of its indignation, (or of God's divine indignation in it,) without mixture; having nothing any longer to mitigate my misery, or divert my mind from its only painful theme, to wit: my weight of woe and condemnation?

Eighth. As it is altogether unreasonable to suppose, that God has subjected man to the domineering influence of an arbitrary and tyrannical principle within himself;-as the principle which we find condemning all evil, is just in all its decisions, and gives us no pain or uneasiness, but when we transgress ;—as it is highly probable, that the sentence pronounced by this impartial and accurately discriminating judge, will be eternally confirmed by God, who placed us under the tuition and inspection of it; as it appears, from the precision of its all-righteous determinations, from its exactness in scrutinizing all our deviations, from its faithfulness in reprehending all evil, indeed, from every rational consideration respecting it, and respecting its operations and office in man, to be the voice of God himself, the immediate operation of his power, his holy law written in the heart, and, as it were, his vicegerent on earth is it not much more truly wise, noble, and prudent, to keep on the safe side, live in conformity to its dictates, and die in peace, and

fulness of hope, consolation, and holy assurance; as we are told all do, who strictly obey it? Is not this much better, than to violate its wholesome admonitions; live in perpetual pain, condemnation, and inquietude; die in horror, anxiety, and amazement; and run the dreadful hazard of eternal pain and wretchedness?

Our Yearly Meeting this year, was graciously owned, and overshadowed by the wing of Ancient Goodness: the Shepherd watered and fed his flock; he sheltered his lambs, and prepared a banquet for his chosen, and made them sweetly rest as at noon.

After the meeting was over, the language of my heart, in thankful acknowledgment, was a language of praise. I knew the blessing was from heaven: I knew the rain was not at our command; nor was the table spread, and the feast prepared, but by the bounteous hand of Israel's God. Return, O my soul, to the place of thy rest, for the Lord thy God hath dealt bountifully with thee.

The continuation of divine favour for some little time after this, repeatedly rejoiced my spirit. At length, through the allwise over-turnings of him who knew how to lead me on in safety, I was again reduced to want, and had to feel much inward leanness. In this state I scarce had any thing to rejoice in but infirmities; but, relying on him whose covenant is as sure with the night as with the day, and who never forsakes those who do not forsake him, I felt, in the midst of my strippings, and was therein stayed, that "patience in low times is an excellent anchor, and hope bears up the soul."

Ninth month 23d. In reading the occurrences of Abraham's life, in Elwood's Sacred History, my heart was deeply affected. Oh! his faith how firm, his devotion how lively! See him leave his father's house, his native land, and go forth at the call of the Lord, not knowing whither he went. See him erecting his altar to the Most High, and "calling on the name of the Lord, the everlasting God." See him on Moriah's mount resigning his beloved son! What heart unmoved can view the transactions of such a life, or read with indifference the dealings of the Almighty with this father of the faithful? He was the friend of God, and God was his friend. Oh! that we, who boast the light of gospel

days, were true successors in the faith of Abraham: a living faith that wrought with his works, and by his works of righteousness, devotion, and true holiness, was made perfect.

In the 11th month, in company with other Friends, I visited upwards of seventy families within the verge of our Monthly Meeting; had great satisfaction in some places, and suffered deeply in others. The Author of all good was with us, and at times greatly refreshed our spirits. In the course of this visit I had to view with sadness those who were overcome by the god of this world. Others I viewed as rising above the world, and laying hold on eternal life. These felt near my spirit in the invisible relationship, and I rejoiced in their success in the Lamb's warfare.

CHAPTER VI.

On the 5th of the 4th month, 1783, I moved with my family to Gloucester, within the limits of the meeting of Uxbridge, a branch of our Monthly Meeting, having for some time before believed, under divers considerations, and of different kinds, that it might be best for me to spend a portion of my time in that neighbourhood, about eighteen miles from my home in NorthProvidence. I fully expected to return again some time or other, but did not know when it might be. I remembered the movements of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and in the recollection thereof, a degree of solid satisfaction was afforded me. I had some outward prospects in removing; but I not only did not aim at wealth, nor expect an increase of outward substance, but I had other and I trust higher motives in it than related to my own temporal concerns.

Soon after I became settled there, I found a field of service opening before me in a religious line, a sense whereof I had for some time had upon my mind previous to this removal. There