himself with such a rational defence of a righteous, sober, and godly
life, as he knew none of them could with any shadow of reason contest. He
then challenged them to propose any thing they could urge, to prove that
a life of irreligion and debauchery was preferable to the fear, love and
worship of the eternal God, and a conduct agreeable to the precepts
of his gospel. And he failed not to bear his testimony, from his own
experience, (to one part of which many of them had been witnesses) that
after having run the widest round of sensual pleasure, with all the
advantages the best constitution and spirits could give him, he had never
tasted any thing that deserved to be called happiness, till he had made
religion his refuge and his delight. He testified calmly and boldly the
habitual serenity and peace which he now felt in his own breast, (for the
most elevated delights he did not think fit to plead, lest they should be
esteemed enthusiasm,) and the composure and pleasure with which he looked
forward to objects which the gayest sinner must acknowledge to be equally
unavoidable and dreadful.

I know not what might be attempted by some of the company in answer to
this; but I well remember that he told me that the master of the table, a
person of a very frank and candid disposition, cut short the debate, and
said, "Come, let us call another cause. We thought this man mad, and
he is in good earnest proving that we are so." On the whole, this
well-judged circumstance saved him a great deal of future trouble. When
his former acquaintances observed that he was still conversible and
innocently cheerful, and that he was immovable in his resolutions, they
desisted from further importunity; and he has assured me, that instead of
losing any one valuable friend by the change in his character, he found
himself much more esteemed and regarded by many who could not persuade
themselves to imitate his example.