ister. My friends often ask me, "Where is the preacher, of whom you spake?" And my constant reply has been, He will by and by make his appearance. The moment I beheld your vessel on shore, it seemed as if a voice had audibly sounded in my ear: There, Potter, in that vessel, cast away on that shore, is the preacher, you have been so long expecting. I heard the voice, and I believed the report; and when you came up to my door, and asked for the fish, the same voice seemed to repeat: Potter, this is the man, this is the person, whom I have sent to preach in your house!"
I was astonished, immeasurably astonished at Mr. Potter's narrative; but yet I had not the smallest idea it could ever be realized. I requested to know, what he could discern in my appearance, which could lead him to mistake me for a preacher? "What," said he, "could I discern, when you were in the vessel, that could induce this conclu-clusion? No, sir, it is not what I saw, or see, but what I feel, which produces in my mind a full conviction."
But, my dear sir, you are deceived, indeed you are deceived; I never shall preach in this place, nor any where else.
"Have you never preached? can you say, you have never preached?"
I cannot, but I never intend to preach again.
"Has not God lifted up the light of his countenance upon you? Has he not shown you his truth?"
I trust, he has.
"And how dare you hide this truth? Do men light a candle to put it under a bushel? If God has shown you his salvation, why should you not show it to your fellow men? But I know, that you will; I am sure, God Almighty has sent you to us for this purpose; I am not deceived, I am sure I am not deceived."
I was terrified, as the man thus went on; and I began to fear, that God, who orders all things according to the council of his own will, had ordained, that thus it should be, and my heart trembled at the idea. I endeavoured, however, to banish my own fears, and to silence the warm-hearted man, by observing, that I was in the place of a supercargo; that property to a large amount had been entrusted to my care; and that, the moment the wind changed, I was under the most solemn obligations to depart.
"The wind will never change, sir, until you have delivered to us, in that meeting-house, a message from God.
Still I was resolutely determined never to enter any pulpit, as a preacher; yet, being rendered truly unhappy, I begged I might be
