churches,--that I had no desire to demolish religion,--that I wished to
bring people to cherish and practise the leading principles of
Christianity. This rather puzzled and distressed him; but
notwithstanding his disappointment, he would have me lecture. The
meeting was out of doors. I soon had a large audience. I quickly
undeceived such as had come expecting to hear me vilify the Bible, the
churches, or religion. I spoke in the highest terms of Christ and His
teachings. I showed that many of them were the perfection of wisdom and
goodness. I spoke of the causes of human wretchedness, and showed that
obedience to the teachings of Christ and His Apostles would remove them
all. Many things that I said, and especially some remarks I made on
domestic duties and domestic happiness, went home to the hearts of my
hearers. Not a murmur was heard from any quarter. Men nudged each other,
and women looked in each others' faces, and all gave signs that they
felt the truth of my remarks, and the wisdom of my counsels, and the
meeting ended as satisfactorily as could be desired.

It was while I was living at Burnley that I began again to pray. A young
atheist died, and I was invited to his funeral, and requested to speak
at his grave. When we got to the cemetery the little chapel was occupied
by another company, and we had to wait some time for our turn. My mind
was in a sad and solemn mood, and I left my party and wandered to the
farther end of the cemetery. It was a bright and beautiful day in April.
The grass was springing fresh and green, and the hawthorn buds were
opening, and everything seemed full of life, and big with promise. The
sun was shining in all his glory. The thrushes and the blackbirds were
singing in the surrounding groves and thickets, and the larks were
pouring forth their melody in the air. Yet all was dark and sorrowful
within. I felt the misery of unbelief, yet felt myself unable to free
myself from its horrible and tormenting power. I had a growing
conviction that I was the slave of a vicious method of reasoning, and of
an inveterate habit of unreasonable or excessive doubt, and that I had
not the power to do God and Christianity justice. I felt as if I ought
to pray, but something whispered, "It is irrational." No matter, I could
refrain no longer: and lifting up my tearful eyes to heaven I exclaimed,
"God help me." He did help me. He strengthened my struggling soul from
that hour, and gave to the good within