I came back with the determination to keep my promise, but must confess that I grew more and more uneasy as the time approached.  However, on Sunday, I went up into the pulpit, and spoke as well as I could, without any notes, and found it far easier than I had feared.  In the evening it was still easier; and so I continued, week by week, gaining more confidence, and have never written a sermon since that day—­that is, to preach it.  Once I was tempted to take a book up into the pulpit, feeling I had nothing to say, when something said to me, “Is that the way you depend upon God?” Immediately I put the volume on the floor, and standing on it, gave out my text, and preached without hesitation.  This going forward in dependence upon God has been a deliverance to me from many a difficulty besides this one, and that through many years.

One day I went, in my cassock and cap, to the shop of a man whom I regarded as a dreadful schismatic.  He sold the publications of the Religious Tract Society.  On entering, he appeared greatly pleased to see me, and took unusual interest and pains in selecting tracts, giving me a double portion for my money.  His kindness was very embarrassing; and when, on leaving, he followed me to the door, and said “God bless you!” it gave me a great turn.  A schismatic blessing a priest!  This, indeed, was an anomaly.  I was ashamed to be seen coming out of the shop, and the more so, because I had this large Evangelical parcel in my hand, I felt as though everybody was looking at me.  However, the tracts were very acceptable at home, and in the parish.  I even began to think there was something good in them.  So I cent for more.

Three men, one after another, told me that they had been converted through reading them.  One of these said that “the tract I had given him ought to be written in letters of gold;” and a few months after this same man died most happily, rejoicing in the Lord, and leaving a bright testimony behind.  I mentioned the conversion of these three men to many of my friends, and asked them for some explanation, but got none.  Still, the thought continually haunted me—–­What can this “conversion” be?

I had made it a custom to pray about what I had to do, and anything I could not understand; therefore I prayed about this.  Just then (I believe, in answer to prayer) a friend offered to lend me Southey’s “Life of Wesley,” and said, “You will find it all about conversion;” and a few days after came a tract, “John Berridge’s Great Error Detected.”  This tract was carefully marked in pencil, and had several questions written in the margin.  I found out that it came from a person to whom I had given it, and who was anxious to know its meaning.