"But, for whom blossoms this elysian flower? Nor hope to find a friend, but who hath found A friend in thee.” When We continued together at Hoxton some time. I was about twenty-three, the people of Layton-stone were much laid on my mind. I had both my birth and maintenance from that place, and I could not help thinking I owed something to their souls. Yet I saw the way very difficult. My parents permitted me to be often with them, and seemed pretty well reconciled to my manner of life, while at a distance. But how, thought I, will it appear in their eyes, to bring the preachers they so much object to, within a mile of their house? I thought I should not now be called to offend them any further. Cannot the Lord, if he sees good, send the Gospel to those people some other way? Thus I put it from my mind again and again; yet a strange love for those souls in that place would spring up in my heart; and when I said, Lord, send by whom thou wilt send, but not by me! Those words again presented themselves, "He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me." About this time a house of my own at Layton-stone, became untenanted. My friend as well as myself saw many reasons for our removing to that place. We prayed much about it, and I asked the Lord to show us clearly his will; and at length felt from the Lord, First, A liberty to believe, that if my father did absolutely forbid my coming, I was not required to do it. Secondly, I knew God did not require impossibilities: I had not yet an income sufficient for living in that place. I asked, therefore, as a further mark, the settling an affair, which kept me out of part of my fortune, occasioned by a flaw in the making of my grandmother's will. I had taken some pains about this affair before, but to no purpose. However I slightly mentioned it again, and it was settled directly. Then I made known to my father my thought about living at Layton-stone. I used no deception; but told him plainly the end I proposed in so doing, my mother being present. He made not the least objection, only added with a smile, "If a mob should pull your house about your ears, I cannot hinder them." We waited before the Lord, believing it was his call, and held ourselves in readiness for immediate obedience. One night I dreamed I was in one of my houses there, in company with all kinds of people, rich and poor, most of whom appeared very ungodly. It was strongly impressed on my mind to speak to them, but I started from the thought, and said with emotion, Lord, what do I here among this people; for they are not thy people, and what am I to do with them? I then beheld the Lord Jesus stand as just before me. The awful majesty of his presence had such an effect on me as I cannot express! It seemed to me I sunk down before him as if I were sweetly melting into nothing. I saw. no shining brightness, or any thing dazzling to the eye. He appeared only as a man clothed in white; yet to my mind there was what I cannot put into words. It was a sense of his purity! It was the glory of holiness which so overcame ine! There seemed but about one yard distance between my Saviour and me-when he spake with a voice clear and distinct these words, "I will send thee to a people, that are not a people, and I will go with thee. Bring them unto me, for I will lay my hand upon them and heal them. Fear not, only believe!" When the immediate presence of my Lord was withdrawn, I thought that I repeated, with tears, to the people what he had spoken to me. Many mocked and derided; but a few expressed a desire of being separated from the others to hear the word. I endeavoured to find a place to meet them in, and in order to do so, I was con strained to walk over a piece of building, where the floor did not seem thicker than a wafer. When I had passed it, I looked back, and said-not a splinter has given way under my feet. Turning my face towards the lane, I saw a funeral, and awaked with that word powerfully applied, The mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. I found myself in a sweet delightful peace. Soul and body seemed all attracted into a divine harmony. When sufficiently come to myself to speak, I told sister Ryan, (who slept with me,) all that had passed. She replied "This night, both sleeping and waking, I have been much occupied with these words-I will go before you, and humble the great ones of the earth." This was in the year sixty-three. On March the 24th the same year, we removed to Layton-stone. From the first hour we found much of the presence of God; and stood still to see his salvation. In order to supply the want of public means, (which we could not have but when we went to London,) we agreed to spend an hour every night together in spiritual reading and prayer. A poor woman with whom I had formerly talked, came to ask if she might come in, when we made prayer? We told her, at seven every Thursday-night she should be welcome. She soon brought two or three more, and they others, till in a short time our little company increased to twenty-five. One night, just before the time of meeting, a poor woman called with a basket of cakes to sell. On our refusing to buy any, she stood still a long time at the gate. We began to converse with her about her soul, when she expressed a great desire to stay the meeting, and in so doing was so greatly blest, that she would fain have left us part of her goods in return. We now thought it would be well to converse with each in particular, and that the time was come for it. Some few were offended, and came no more; but most appeared under conviction, and those we appointed to meet on Tuesday-night, reserving the Thursday for the public meeting, which still kept increasing, and in which we read a chapter, and sometimes spoke from it. The first time we met on the Tuesday-night, two were set at liberty. We now thought it expedient to apply to Mr. Wesley for a preacher. He approved our plan, and sent Mr. Murlin the next Sunday; and within a fortnight, we had twenty-five joined in society. Much opposition now arose from all sides, (though more from the rich than the poor,) and one Thursday-night, as I was speaking to a pretty large company in my own kitchen, the bell at the fore-gate was rung very hard. Our servant, who was a pious woman, went to see who was there. In the mean time, four shabby-looking men, with great sticks in their hands, came in at the back-door, and so into the kitchen. The servant soon returned with some emotion, and whispered me, "It is Mr. W. who is come to inform you, you must, if you please, break off, for here is a great mob coming; and the ringleaders are four men with clubs." Turning to the people I answered her aloud, “O, we do not mind mobs, when we are about our Master's business." Greater is he that is for us, than all that can be against us. I then went on till I had concluded my subject. Having a few of the rules of the society, which I intended to disperse that night, I addressed myself first to the four men, who stood before me, explaining what they were, and asked if they would choose to accept one? They received them with a respectful bow, and went out. Who they were, and what was their purpose, I know not to this day. heard no more of the mob. At this time the hand of the Lord was much with us, supporting and comforting us under every trial. There was only my friend Ryan, myself, the maid, and Sally Lawrence, a child about four years old, whom I had just before taken from the side of her mother's coffin into our house. On one side it was open to the forest, and I know not that of the awakened people lived within a mile of us. one We We were as on a desert alone, but the Lord was with us, and preserved us beneath his love's almighty shade. The enemy came, however, to the length of his chain. Sometimes on Sundays, when the nights were dark, after the society meeting, a mob used to collect at the gate, and throw dirt at the people as they went out; and when they were gone, they used to come into the yard, break some trifles they found there, and putting up their faces to a window which had no shutters, roar and howl like wild beasts. And now another dispensation was opening before us. From the time I was seventeen, some drawings towards the care of children had dwelt on my mind. I felt the same desire now as at that time, to become in every sense a servant of the church. Those words were still with me, “If she hath lodged strangers; if she hath brought up children; if she have relieved the afflicted; and diligently followed after every good work." Yet I was truly sensible no work was good but as being done in the will and order of God. We therefore entreated the Lord to discover to us all his sacred will from day to day, and not suffer us in any degree to err therefrom. Various leadings of Providence, both inward and outward, drew us to think of the rising generation with more than common tenderness. Our abilities were small; yet perhaps a few children we could educate, without interrupting the order of God in our call towards the grown people. We determined, however, to take none but destitute orphans, that no one might interrupt our plan of education. We were not unconscious, that to change the heart belongs to God, but at the same time we remembered, there was a blessing promised to "the training up a child in the way it should go," and that a degree of knowledge, with a capacity of getting their bread in an honest way, has under God rescued many from destruction. Some such objects now presented themselves, and we received them, one after another, in the name of the Lord. We however refused many, taking only those con |