Page:Records of the Life of the Rev. John Murray.djvu/85

Rh the climax of misery. I closed my door, I prostrated myself before the God who had created me, beseeching him to have mercy upon me; again my sad, my sorrowing heart, revisited the home I had abandoned; stripped of its allurements, my mad passion for travelling appeared in its native deformity; agonizing dread overtook me, and my terrified imagination pointed out, and anticipated, a thousand horrors. Many devices were suggested to my forlorn mind, and death itself was presented as my last resort. But starting from an idea so impious, Let me, I exclaimed, at least avoid plunging into irremediable perdition. Thus I spent the day, and in the evening I attended the tabernacle. I considered myself, while there, as the most destitute individual in the whole assembly. I generally occupied a remote corner, my arms were folded, my eyes cast down, and my tears flowing; indeed, my eyes were seldom dry, and my heart was always full; for, at this period of my life, I rarely tasted any thing like consolation. Coming out of the tabernacle, one evening, a serious young man thus accosted me: "Cheer up, thou weeping, sorrowing soul—be of good cheer, thy God will save thee." I caught his hand; God bless you, my dear sir, whoever you are! but you do not know to whom you are speaking. "Oh yes, I am speaking to a sinner, like myself." No, no, I returned, the wide world does not contain so great a sinner as myself; for, in the face of an education, calculated to eradicate every evil propensity; and of precepts, and examples, drawn from our most holy religion, which ought to have rendered me a uniform servant of the Most High; I have mingled in circles, consisting of the idle, the dissipated, and the profane; I have run the career of folly, and the anguish of my soul is a consequence of my manifold offences. The kind-hearted young man, strove to pour into my wounds the oil and wine of consolation. We walked together, quite through Moorfields; at his request, I promised to meet him at the tabernacle the ensuing evening, and I was greatly impatient for the appointed time. Passing Moorfields, agreeably to my engagements, I beheld a large congregation assembled to hear one of Mr. Wesley's preachers: I tarried until I saw the preacher mount the stage, but what were my emotions, when I recognised him, of whom I was so fond, in the house of Mr. Little, and who first introduced me as a public speaker. I hastily withdrew from the place, terrified, lest his eye should meet mine; but my soul was tortured by the comparison of what I was, when I first saw him, with my present situation. I was this evening much affected; indeed, it was impossible for any child of sorrow to attend upon Mr. Whitefield, without feelings of the most