and their souls be laid to my charge. I do not hesitate to say, it is not instability which has led me into my present situation. It has been the same principle, namely, a love of truth, and a desire after a genuine holiness, which first induced me to union with the Methodists, afterwards with that part of them who saw it needful, from motives of uprightness, to separate from the majority. It was the same principle which has since induced me to withdraw from what I believed to be wrong, in a church in which I had enjoyed much peace, and I hope some degree of spiritual advantage; though I own (not without painful feelings) that my spiritual progress has been very little to what I believe I might have experienced, had I been more faithful to divine light and grace. I believe I may say with truth, that I never was so sensibly affected with desires for the good of the Methodist church, and especially for that part of it to which I have been united, and of my union with whom I have never for a moment seen cause to repent.

“With regard to what is said of the relation in which I stand, as the widow of Alexander Kilham, what I have to reply is this: I believe my husband was fulfilling the will of God when he opposed the corrupt government of the Methodist church. I believe his life was prematurely exhausted in labouring for the welfare of Methodism. I had told my husband, while he lived, and in his death I felt the same sentiment, that it would be less painful to see him die under his labours and sufferings, than it would be to see him shrink from a cause which I believed to be just. But I should have been unworthy of a friend so faithful and

sincere as I found in him, and should have profited little by his example, had I not endeavoured to make truth the object of my pursuit, independent of any fear of human censure, or any love of human praise. It is vital holiness which I desire to seek; and whatever may be thought of me, I would reject everything which I believe is calculated to impede the genuine influence of the Divine Spirit.

I have nothing more to add, only that I could rejoice to unite with a company of worshippers, by whatever name they were called, who would make the spirit of worship their principal object, and who would rather worship in silence occasionally than make it a part of their system to fill up their time of meeting with outward worship, whatever the state of their minds might be. Until some such meeting be approved by my Methodist friends, although I shall always feel interested for their welfare, shall rejoice when they have cause to rejoice, and mourn when they have cause to weep, and shall gladly unite with them in any labour of love in which they may suffer me to unite, or in any other way in which conscience is not violated; yet it is impossible for me to consider it as right that I should abide in a way of worship which I believe to be in some things inconsistent with the will of God, and, of course, inconsistent with the best interests of the church.

"Your respectful friend and sister,
"HANNAH KILHAM."

In a letter written about the same time we find the following:

"I have esteemed plainness and simplicity of

language as most favourable to godly sincerity, but have not, till this night, been fully convinced that it was my duty to adopt it. I am conscious I have not chosen my own time, yet have a hope that I shall not intentionally recede from my present purpose, unless it be from a conviction of its being wrong.

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I could not think it right for any person to reject the usual mode of language, unless from principles of genuine humility, and obedience to what is believed to be the Divine will. I think it would be very possible for persons possessing a good degree of natural confidence to adopt a plainness of language from very unjustifiable motives, even from a spirit of vain defiance, pride, and self-will. Such conduct would tend to promote anarchy and confusion, instead of

love."

peace and

"Oct. 6th. In the evening, while I was alone in my room, my soul was visited by a manifestation of eternal truth, more affecting and more awfully impressive than language can express. I thank God for these occasions of confirmation to a soul in itself so fearful, and at the same time so helpless.

Dec. 19th, she writes to a friend: Will my heart be relieved by telling thee that the dayspring from on high hath visited me? The Sun of righteousness arises on my soul with healing in His wings. I trust I am not deceived. I believe the Lord is reviving my soul, by giving me to feel that I am nothing, and that, if I would have purity, freedom, or happiness, I must deny myself, refuse to comply with the suggestions of my

own will, and learn of Him and through Him in all things. Ah! how precious, how inexpressibly precious is that love which makes the soul delight in the object that attracts it! I shall, I believe, through the infinite mercy of God, be taught to know such love more perfectly: it will dwell more deeply in my soul. I thank God for subduing my mind in some degree, and teaching me to feel my weakness. Oh! that, as a prisoner of hope, I may turn to my strong hold! Everything in me and about me cries aloud for a Saviour, a Redeemer. My spirit was revived, and I was filled with humble, grateful joy, when I remembered that He who had trodden the winepress alone' would redeem His people from their

sins.

"I should not at present find liberty to take the sacred name of God into my lips, (I believe on any occasion,) unless I felt at the time reverence in my heart toward Him. I could not speak of Jesus as my Saviour, my Redeemer, unless I felt in my spirit that He had redeemed me from the evils of my own heart, with which I had been sensibly oppressed.

"3rd mo. 28th, 1801. I am still persuaded, as I have often said before, that outward instruments, and the outward senses, are greatly used in the work of salvation, and particularly in the earlier parts of experience, especially with the young, the unthinking, and the uninstructed. It appears to me at present to be a subject worthy of most serious enquiry, 'How shall the outward senses be made most conducive to the welfare of the soul?' I feel my mind seriously affected when I remember that a just answer to this enquiry necessarily

includes that we ought not to do anything, nor say anything, inconsistent with the truth."

In the summer of this year my dear mother removed to Sheffield. Here, also, she took part in a day-school, which was conducted by one of her friends.

Writing to a distant friend, in a letter dated 5th mo. 1801, she remarks:

"In some of the most favoured seasons of my life, when my spirit has been in some measure brought into a feeling of its own nothingness, and blessed with the baptizing influence of divine power and love, I have felt particularly led toward the weak, the ignorant, and those who are without the gates of Zion. I have heard as it were a voice more powerful, more awfully impressive than any which may be sounded to the outward ear, directing me to live, not seeking my own gratification, but as the servant of mankind, and, more especially, of the poor. When I have heard of Him

Who, meanly in Bethlehem born,
Did stoop to redeem a lost race,'

I have thought that some would surely be favoured as instruments of mercy, still more and more, in the spirit of their Divine Master, to stoop as it were to the very lowest and meanest, the weakest and most ignorant of mankind."

In the beginning of 1802 the scarlet-fever was prevalent in Sheffield, and was peculiarly fatal to young children. The family of my precious mother did not escape, and she was called to part with her beloved infant.