“I feel I have the Lord’s presence, for He not only promised it where two or three are gathered together in His name; but also to those who preach the Gospel, He said, ‘Lo, I am with you alway!’ His presence is power.  It is His word I bring you, not mine; I merely deliver it.  He is here.  And be sure He loves you, and, what is more, takes a deeper interest in this preaching than we can.  He died for you, and shed His blood for your forgiveness; how, then, can He do otherwise than take an interest in the delivery of His message, and, more, in the result which is to follow?

“When Simon Peter let down his net, he was astonished; mark, it was a net he let down into the deep, something which enclosed the fish, in order that he might bring them out of their native element, the water.  So I preach the Gospel, not merely for the sake of preaching, but to bring you from the power of Satan, in which we all are by nature, to God, that you may receive the forgiveness of your sins.

“We read that he enclosed a great multitude of fishes; I have faith to believe that the Lord will bring many to Himself to-night.”

With shouting and praise the address was concluded and prayer was offered.  At the close, we found at least fifty people in that great throng on their knees, crying for mercy.  It was a most triumphant and joyful time, and the people were loth to separate.  We slept that night at Porth, as that part of the village is called.

The next morning two fishermen came to my lodging, bringing a large basket of fish as a present.  Their hearts had been cheered the preceding night, and taking my word in a natural as well as a spiritual sense, they went out once again and let down their nets.  They had gone out many nights before and taken nothing; but this time their venture was crowned with success, and they came back rejoicing ill the Lord, who had shown them that temporal as well as spiritual blessings come from Him.  The basket of fish they brought me was an acknowledgment of their heartfelt gratitude.

After breakfast, as we were walking on the seashore, under the majestic cliffs which have stood as a wall against the Atlantic waves for centuries, we heard our good-natured Newfoundland dog barking at something on the rocks; we looked up, and behold!  There was an exquisitely graceful fawn-coloured kid, with a scarlet collar and bells, bounding about playfully on the narrow ledges of the rocks.  It seemed to us to be leaping about on the face of the cliff, for we could not see the little ledges on which it picked its way.  It was quite out of the dog’s reach, and appeared to know it, judging from the coquettish and defiant manner in which it was jumping about, in high glee at its independence.  While we were standing watching the pretty and graceful creature, a young lady came out from behind other rocks, and called to her pet, which arched its little neck and looked at her, then at the dog, as if it would say, “How can I come down?” I walked towards her, and on speaking, found that she knew me, and that I had seen her when she was a child.  After a little talk about the playful kid, I asked her if she had been to the meeting; she said “she had, and she had not!”