instance of Christian experience; but this
is but a very broken and imperfect account I have given of her: her
eminency would much more appear, if her experiences were fully related,
as she was wont to express and manifest them, while living. I once read
this account to some of her pious neighbors, who were acquainted with
her, who said, to this purpose, that the picture fell much short of the
life; and particularly that it much failed of duly representing her
humility, and that admirable lowliness of heart, that all times appeared
in her. But there are, blessed be God! many living instances, of much
the like nature, and in some things no less extraordinary.

But I now proceed to the other instance, that of the little child before
mentioned. Her name is Phebe Bartlet, [She was living in March, 1789,
and maintained the character of a true convert.] daughter of William
Bartlet. I shall give the account as I took it from the mouth of her
parents, whose veracity none who know them doubt of.

She was born in March, 1731. About the latter end of April, or beginning
of May, 1735, she was greatly affected by the talk of her brother, who
had been hopefully converted a little before, at about eleven years of
age, and then seriously talked to her about the great things of
religion. Her parents did not know of it at that time, and were not
wont, in the counsels they gave to their children, particularly to
direct themselves to her, being so young, and, as they supposed, not
capable of understanding. But after her brother had talked to her, they
observed her very earnestly listen to the advice they gave to the other
children; and she was observed very constantly to retire, several times
in a day, as was concluded, for secret prayer. She grew more and more
engaged in religion, and was more frequent in her closet; till at last
she was wont to visit it five or six times a day: and was so en