That next morning it came to my mind that I must go round to the people and ask them what they were thinking about?  I had done so from the pulpit; now I would go from house to house and do the same.  I went first to the school, and finding that several children were absent, I took their names and determined to go after them, in the hope of reaching their parents.

The first house I called at was a mistake, and yet it was not.  I knocked at the door, and said, “Does Mrs. W—­ live here?”

The woman who opened it said, “No, she lives next door.”

I apologized for disturbing her, and was going away, when she said, “Will you not come in for a few minutes?” I assented, and going in, took a seat.  Then I asked her name, and whether she went to church.

She replied, “To be sure I do.  Don’t you see me there every Sunday?”

“Then,” I said, “did you hear my question last evening.”

“Yes,” she said, “but I was afraid, and ashamed to stay behind.  But I do wish to be saved; I have been wretched for more than a week.”

It was very easy to lead to the Saviour of sinners one whose heart was so prepared.  She soon found peace, and became one of my most useful and steadiest helpers.

Her neighbour next door, was by no means so ready to receive the truth, and I had to supply another argument altogether.  Eventually, she also found peace in believing; though not for some weeks.

From this house, I visited several others, and in all of them had serious dealing with individuals about their ‘souls’ salvation.  Then I set off to see a man I had often observed in church; having noticed the anxious look with which he always regarded me during the sermon.  I found him at home, and, on entering his house, he said, at once, “I know what you are come for.  Wait a little, sir, please to sit down;” and before I had time to say a word, he went upstairs.  In a few minutes he returned, with a shilling in his hand.  “There,” he said, “there it is; that is my contribution for the Indian Mutiny Fund.”

I thanked him for his offering, and promised that it should be given to the treasurer.  “But,” I added, “to tell the truth, I have not come about that, but to see you.  I want to speak to you about your soul.”

He sat down, looking, as I thought, most unhappy.  Then he said,—­“Last night my mate and I made up our minds to speak to you in the vestry; but, just as we were coming to the door, you opened it, and we ran away.”

“Yes,” I said, “I heard you.”

“Well, after that, we came home, and prayed the Lord to send you to us:  and here you are!”

“Thank God for the answer to prayer.  Now then, what can I do for you?”

He told me that he was born of respectable parents in Germany; but that, for his bad ways and bad habits, they had sent him to this country to work for his bread; that he had taken the pledge several times, and broken it again and again, though he had prayed and done all he could think of; but it was to no propose.