O Jesus let me die her death,
And let her latter end be mine!”
A short ACCOUNT of
ANN ROGERS.
By John Johnson.
Saturday, April 8, 1769.
I WENT to see Ann Rogers, a young woman who had been for several years a member of the society in Dublin. Two or three years ago she believed God had saved her from all sin, and ever since behaved in the most exemplary manner. “My body, she said, is exceeding weak: but Christ is precious to my soul, and has not suffered me in all my weakness and pain to feel one murmuring thought.”
I enquired, how the work of God began in her soul? She said, “May was six years I came to live with Mrs. Riggs, where Mary Feris lived; at which time I had no notion of real, heart religion. But her behaviour struck me, and not long after, I went with her on Sunday morning to the New-Room. From that time I saw myself a vile, helpless sinner, of which I was convinced more and more; yet with strong hope, expecting deliverance under every sermon I heard, and in every meeting for prayer. But in about two months my hope grew weak, and I concluded God did not hear my prayers. Then deep sorrow seized my heart, till one night going to bed, I cried earnestly for mercy, and begged that if there were any for me, I might wake time enough to attend the morning preaching. I awoke at the time. In that moment I was enabled to believe, that God loved me. I rejoiced unspeakably; I was happy in his love, and have never since doubted of his favour.
“This joy continued for some months, but with an earnest hope of seeing greater things than these: those words being frequently in my mouth, and almost continually in my mind,
Wrestling I will not let thee go,
Till I thy name, thy nature know!