My flight was in vain; I was pursued, overtaken, picked up and had the blood scrubbed off my face, and so was prepared for the baptismal water.

All the merit of this transaction, I must give to the maid who caught me, my father and the minister; for I was not a voluntary candidate, but a reluctant subject, forced against my will.

In early life I had a thirst for learning. At five years old, by the instruction of a school dame, I could read the Bible currently, and afterwards, in the branches of learning, taught in common schools, I made as good proficiency as common. But what proficiency soever I made in learning (owing to a stiffness of nature and rusticity of manners) I could never gain the good will of my masters, nor was I a favorite among the scholars.

The character which one of my masters gave me, seems to have been the opinion that all of them formed of me. Said he, "John has more knowledge than good manners."

The minister of the town was importunate with my father to give me a collegiate education for the ministry. The doctor of the place was equally solicitous to make me a physician. My father designed me to live with him, to support his declining years. My own intention was to be a lawyer, if possible; but in our designs and wishes, we have all been disappointed.

As my father had no library, and I was fond of reading, the Bible was my best companion.

Deism and Universalism I never heard of, and of course was what is called a believer in revelation.

I had no thought that I myself was right, but believed that some great thing must be done for me (I did not know what) or I could not be saved.

At times I had awful horrors of conscience, when death, judgment and the world to come arrested my attention; but these horrors did not reform me from vice nor turn me to the Lord.

I was almost in all evil, full of vanity, exceedingly attached to frolicking and foolish wickedness. When I reflect on the follies of my youth, the question of Paul involuntarily rises in my heart; "What fruits had you then in those things whereof ye are now ashamed?" In this course I continued until I was eighteen years old.

In the summer of 1772, I met with one thing singular. When I was returning from my frolicks or evening diversions, the following words would sound from the skies, "You are not about the work which you have got to do." The last time I heard those sounds, I stood amazed; and turning my eyes up to the heavens, it seemed that there was a work of more weight than a mountain, which I had yet to perform.

Soon after this, I cannot tell how or why, a conviction took place in my mind, that all below the sun could not satisfy or tranquilize the mind.

The world and all that was in it appeared of small consequence.. And without any unusual horror of mind or dread of damnation, the charms of those youthful diversions, which had been sweeter to me than the honey, comb, lost all their sweetness, nor could I conceive how there could be any pleasure in them.

About this time, there was an evening frolic in the neighborhood, and I concluded to go to see whether there was delight in it or not; and if not, to find out the cause of its death in my mind. Accordingly I went, but found nothing to please, but everything to disgust. After I had tried the experiment, I asked a young man if he would return home with me, which he agreed to do. On our return, I introduced the subject of religion for conversation on the road. The next day he reported, that he believed John would soon be a preacher, for he would talk on no subject but religion.

At this time, a young preacher (Elhanan Winchester) came into Grafton, and preached and prayed to the astonishment of the people; and a young woman, it was said, was converted. When I heard the report, it greatly effected me, for I had been at many dances with her. The result with me was, now the waters are troubled, and it is time for me to step in.

Reading the Bible and meditating on the shortness of time, and the importance of being prepared for death and judgment, occupied the chiefest of my time.

After a few weeks, in the month of September, Mr. Winchester came to Grafton again. I heard of it on Saturday evening, and concluded that I would read the Bible that evening, and attend meeting the following Sunday, and be converted like Priscilla, (for that was the name of the young woman.) When I went to meeting, I heard the man preach, and while he was preaching, something kept answering in my breast, yes, yes, yes, it is so. After he had done, I question whether all the men in the world could have convinced me that it was not the truth. After public service was over, the people retired to the water, where Priscilla was baptized. What I saw and heard at the water, greatly effected me. There I stood upon a rock, and made my vows to God to forsake all sinful courses and seek the Lord, if he would direct me how.

From this, I began to pray, but was hard put to it to find a place secret enough. I was afraid some one would hear me, and was confounded to hear my own voice. How often did the words of Jesus sound like thunder in my ears: "He that is ashamed to own me before men, I will be ashamed to own him before my Father and before his angels.".

From this lime down, fifteen months, a volume might be written on the views, exercises and conflicts of my mind.

As the work of God broke out in Grafton, Northbridge and Upton, I heard much preaching and conversation about the change which is essential to salvation; on which I formed the following conclusions:

1st. That I must be deeply convicted of sin, greatly borne down under the weight of it, and heartily repent of it. This led me to pray much for conviction, read the threatenings of God to alarm myself, and study to make sin look horrid.

2dly. That if ever I was converted, I should know it as distinctly as if a surgeon should cut open my breast with his knife, take out my heart and wash it, put it back again and close up the flesh. This caused me to think light of any pleasing views, which sometimes would break into my mind, how God could pardon sinners for the sake of the Mediator. All was nothing to me, without I could be converted in the way which I laid out, and know for certain that I was born of God.

3dly. That whenever I should be enabled to believe in Jesus, I should see him as plainly as I could see an object of sense. While waiting and hoping for these things, (some of which I have never yet seen or felt,) my mind was led to the following views and exercises:

First. To see the extent and purity of the holy law: That it was the perfect rule of eternal right, which arose from the relations that exist between God and man, and between man and man; that it will remain unalterable while the perfections of God and the faculties of men exist, and that the least deviation from this rule is sin.

Secondly. By looking into the law, as a clear glass, to see my own weakness and wickedness. Here, I found myself as incompetent to repent and believe in Jesus, as I was to keep the whole law. Never was a poor creature more perplexed with a hard, unyielding heart, and a corrupt nature, than I was. I often compared my heart to a spring of water, rising up against God and godliness.

Thirdly. To view the justice of God in my condemnation. Never did the benevolence of God appear more pleasant to me than justice did. I was not willing to be damned; but thought, if damnation must be my lot, it would be some relief to my mind that God would be just.

Fourthly. To discover the sufficiency of a Mediator. For a number of months before I had a settled hope of my interest in Christ, the plan of atonement, by the blood of the Lamb, appeared to me as plain as ever it has since. Once, I remember to have broke out thus, when walking in the road: "O what a complete Saviour is Jesus, every way suited to my needs: I can be saved no other way—I do not wish to be saved any other way—but fear I shall never be saved in that way."

There were a number of young people converted in the place, who assembled together for religious worship, with whom my heart was greatly united. While thinking of them, at a certain time, the words of John came into my mind: "We know we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren;" which gave me a small hope, for a few minutes, that perhaps I was born of God.

One morning, about day break, as I was musing on my bed, upon this

text, "After ye believed, ye were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise," it struck my mind that souls first believed before they were sealed; on which conclusion, the following words rushed into my mind, as if they had been spoken by some other, "Ye are already sealed unto the day of redemption." If so, said I to myself, then surely I am converted. But as I had never passed through stages of distress equal to some others, nor equal to what I supposed an essential pre-requisite to conversion, I could not believe for myself. And yet the words continued to run in my mind, "Ye are already sealed unto the day of redemption."

One morning, my father was reading a chapter, when the following text arrested my attention with irresistible force: "If ye will not believe, ye shall not be established." At another time my thoughts ran thus: "If it is possible that I am a Christian, it is certain that I am the least of all." On which the words of the Prophet came into my mind with great force : "Peace, peace to him that is near, and to him that is far off, saith the Lord, and I will heal him."

Though very far from being satisfied with myself, yet with a very feeble hope which I began to have, on the solicitation of others, I did sometimes attempt to pray in small circles. And here I will relate a strange event, which I know to be true, but can never account for it. In the month of February, 1774, in the time of great snow, a very respectable preacher, Rev. Samuel Dennis, came into Grafton and preached one afternoon at a Mr. Wheeler's. I attended; and notwithstanding his talents, he appeared muddy in his mind about salvation freely by grace. After he had done, the people all took their seats, and strange to tell, that I, naturally bashful, with hardly any hope that I was converted, should rise and state my objections against the discourse, and give another interpretation to the texts which the preacher had quoted to support his doctrine: after which I retired into another room; but very soon a messenger came and told me I must return and dispute the point with Mr. Dennis. I returned, but who can describe what I felt? I said thus to myself: "I am not converted myself, and it must be the Devil that has instigated me to harrass the people of God." Mr. Dennis addressed me like a gentleman and Christian. Said he, "Mr. Leland, you have lodged your objections against my doctrine; I wish to discourse with you on the subject, for the cause is not mine but God's." Upon which the battle began between a venerable preacher, clothed in black, with a large white wig on his head, and a beard. less boy, not twenty years old, coarsely clad, and wearing a leather apron. The people all stuck to see and hear. After about three-quarters of an hour, there was a cessation of arms. At any rate, as I was the querist, and he the defendant, such questions were flung in his way that he could not well solve; and concluded by saying, "The Lord have mercy on us, for we are poor ignorant creatures."

On this, there sprang up immediately in my heart a strong desire to

pray. Indeed, I felt as if I must pray or burst; but the preacher, the whole congregation, and my father among the rest, were all present, and I had never attempted the like before. At this crisis, one of the young converts came to me, and said, "John, won't you pray?" I durst not refuse, lest I should quench the Spirit. I proposed it, and the congregation united by rising. I had not spoken many words, before the preacher, my father, and all others were out of the way. I felt strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus. Prayer being closed, I felt impelled to give the people a word of exhortation, which was the first address of the kind that ever I made. After this a psalm was sung; when the line came forward, "We tremble and rejoice," I felt confident in myself that I did tremble before the greatness, and rejoice in the goodness of God; and spake within myself thus: "I am converted, and will not believe Satan any more when he tells me otherwise." This frame of mind continued a few minutes, and then the vision closed, and I returned home full of heaviness, reproaching myself for my forwardness and presumption. The next day, I went around and told some who heard me the day before, that they need not mind any thing that I had said, for I was a poor unconverted sinner.

My desire was to be searched and not deceived. I spent nearly a whole day, as I was going a little journey, praying in David's words, "Search me, O God, and try me, and know if there be any evil in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. The night following, I dreamed that I must read Psalm xxxii. 8, which I did as soon as I awoke. The words are, "I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go. I will guide thee with mine eye."

My heart was greatly attached to the Holy Scripture. I have not yet forgot the burning desire—the soul-longings that I had to know what was the mind of God, contained in his word. I would read—then pray—then read and pray again, &c. that I might know the truth as it is in Jesus.

One evening, as I was walking the road alone, I was greatly cast down, and expressed myself thus: "I am not a Christian; I have never been convicted and converted like others, who are true saints. The Devil shall deceive me with false hopes no longer. I will never pretend to religion, until I know that I am born of God!" These words I spoke aloud; but immediately the words of Peter rushed into my mind, with great energy, "I know not the man." These words dashed my conclusion and resolution to atoms in a moment. It was a shock to the centre of my heart. From that day to this minute, which is a term of forty-six years, amidst all the doubts, darkness, troubles and temptations that I have had, I have never said that I knew not Christ, or that I was unconverted.

Soon after this, I received great comfort from Proverbs xxx. 5. Every word of God, both precept and promise, seemed pure. I felt my soul yield up to Christ and trust in him, and believed he would be my shield and defence.