I am ashamed of them.  I might have used greater diligence, evidenced more love, spoken with greater propriety, cultivated a more affable spirit.  I might have been more pointed in address, more constant, more humble, and in many ways have acted with greater Christian consistency; but Jesus is my refuge.  Praised be His name, I love Him!—­At the lovefeast Mr. W. stated, that a man in L——­ had five sons, for whose salvation he had importunately prayed, from the time of their birth until he died; but without success.  They all followed his remains to the grave; and, as they were taking their last look at the coffin after the usual service, one of them clasped his hands and exclaimed:—­’I once had a praying father; but there he lies; and now I must pray for myself.’  From that moment he commenced a new life, and was soon brought to the knowledge of the truth.  Within two years the rest were all truly converted to God:  encouragement for parents.—­I prayed that the Lord would direct my steps in visiting the poor, and in this He answered me:  for quite unexpectedly I was sent for to the bedside of a woman apparently dying, and who, being awakened to her lost condition, lamented the neglect of past opportunities.  While a friend was praying she began to pray for herself, faith instantly sprang up in her heart, and she cried out, ’I will believe, Lord help me, I never felt it so with me before.’—­Glory be to God, I am still a witness of His saving grace; though buffeted by the enemy within, and exposed to temptation from without.  I see the path lies straight before me,—­’looking unto Jesus,’ who is yet alive.  If I proceed, I feel confident of conquest over all my enemies.—­Mr. Barnabas Shaw met my Sunday class and said, that once when preaching in Africa, he exclaimed:—­’What is it makes the Gospel so sweet?’ One of the natives instantly arose and said, ‘Jesus.’  Truly it is so.  My soul tangs on Jesus; here I find rest.  The last few days I have been endeavouring to live in the will of God, with some power to do it.  To God be all the glory for the work He has wrought.  Yesterday I took the sacrament with poor Mary F., who is praising God for the grace manifested to her on a death-bed.  How quickly time flies!  Well, let it go—­

  If Jesus my companion be,
  My words and actions shall agree,
    The index of my soul;
  Meekness, benevolence, and love,
  Shall every secret purpose move. 
    And sanctify the whole.

[The following letter was sent, with the articles specified, to some unknown person in Nottingham; and the subject of it remained a secret in her own bosom, until the copy was found among her papers.]

  “Dear Sir,—­Having a little matter to put into your hands
  in aid of the Methodist Missions, I take the liberty of addressing
  a few lines to you.