uch in January 1837; and from that
time to the end of his life was as earnest, devoted, and popular as any
man among that band, as worthy a band of men as ever worked a Methodist
circuit.

So Abe became a local preacher, and while he always felt and said that
the office honoured him, he, on the other hand, did his utmost to
honour the position which the Church had called him to occupy.
Methodism owes very much to those brave, earnest, and godly men who
have, during all her history, through all her struggles, laboured
cheerfully on, year after year, often at immense personal sacrifice and
suffering, carrying the tidings of salvation to outstanding districts,
which would seldom have heard the Gospel but for their disinterested
services. Their toils cannot have been for worldly honours, where
could they win them? They cannot have been for pecuniary gain, because
their labours have ever been gratuitous, and often expensive to
themselves;--pelted with hailstones, dripping with rain, torn by
storms, blistered with sun-heat, in all parts of the land, over miles
of barren hills and wild moor, through dirty lanes and new-ploughed
fields, giving ungrudgingly of their strength; Sunday after Sunday
leaving the home enjoyments of their family and the sanctuary to carry
the Gospel of Christ to those afar off. What will the Master do to
those brave labourers of His in the day of award? He will make them
great in the Kingdom of Heaven.

CHAPTER XI

In Practice.

We may now consider that Abe had really commenced practice as a local
preacher, and before long the numerous demands made upon him
professionally showed the estimation in which he was held among the
people. But there was one thing which gave him considerable trouble,
and that was his preparation for the pulpit. This was a great toil to
him, but he counted himself abundantly rewarded when he found that God
made his simple, earnest sayings a blessing to the people to whom he
preached. Abe had no quiet room in his house into which he could
retire for the purpose of meditation. His home was full of children,
and each of the little rooms resounded with their merry or troubled
outcries from morning till night. His study was elsewhere. There was
one spot more sacred to him than any other in the world, and that was
at the old tree-root on Almondbury Common, where, years before, he
found the blessing of Divine pardon. To that Bethel he often turned
his steps, and