want of a friend, (referring to what I had written to her,) and I think he has ripened and confirmed that solid spark of friendship, which was so long ago kindled in our breasts towards each other. It seems to me as if the Lord had laid your burden on me, as he once committed the care of Mary to Joseph, and afterward to the favorite disciple." She concluded: "Jesus, to thy preserving care My choicest blessing I commend ; The soul whom thou hast made my friend." I spread my friend's letter before the Lord, and praised him for laying my burden on the heart of one whom I knew to be a favourite of Heaven. I answered that I should be very glad to see her. She had not been long at her sister's be fore she was seized with a violent disorder, which we thought would end in death. I visited her often, and with much profit. Mrs. M. being taken ill also, and only one servant to attend them both, I believed it my duty to be with her night and day; and the Lord gave me such strength and ability for it, as I had never found before. I felt his peculiar smile on my employ. ment, and those words which had formerly made such an impression on my mind were now continually before me :— "O that my Lord would count me meet To wash his dear disciples' feet; After my lowly Lord to go, And wait upon his saints below: Enjoy the grace to angels given, And serve the royal heirs of heaven." As she slept little, we conversed much; and our hearts were united as David's and Jonathan's. The spirit of community which reigned in the Church at Jerusalem I felt a taste of; and from that time to her death, the cold words of mine and thine were never known between us. A circumstance which now occurred unexpectedly constrained her to remove. I took her home with me, but not till I had inquired of the Lord, well knowing how much the progress of the Divine life depends on our private connections. Unless much caution is used between persons living together, they are often a great hinderance to each other. After a time the Lord was pleased to restore her to health; and having one heart, one mind, and one purse, we agreed that one habitation also would be most profitable. The Lord had given us to feel that union which even death itself could not dissolve. I have often thought on those words of Solomon, "A faithful friend is the medicine of life; and he that fears the Lord shall find him." Some however objected: "Your income is as yet but small; you wish to be useful; why then did you not choose, as a friend, one who had some fortune to unite with your own, and that might have enlarged your sphere." I answered, I did not choose at all. I stood still, saw, and followed the order of God. And if my means had been enlarged in money, and lessened in grace, what should I have gained by that? I acknowledge I neither gained honour, gold, nor indulgence to the flesh, by uniting myself to a sickly persecuted saint; but I gained such a spiritual helper as I shall eternally praise God for. Many are the advocates of friendship. Many will say, with Dr. Young, "Poor is the friendless master of a world. A world in purchase for a friend is gain.” But they refuse the sacrifice demanded by that friendship, and forget the following lines : "But for whom blossoms this elysian flower? Can gold gain friendship? Impudence of hope! Nor hope to find a friend, but who hath found We continued together at Hoxton some time. When I was about twenty-three, the people of Laytonstone 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 man. ner 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 farther. 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 Laytonstone 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 farther 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 Laytonstone. 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 our selves 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 me! 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 1 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 constrained 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 toward 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 Laytonstone. 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 twentyfive. 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 to the meeting; and in so doing was so greatly blessed, 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 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 meantime 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. We 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 |