She returned to London.

Not long after, it so happened that she went to a small church in the city one Sunday afternoon.

The preacher was such as we have often heard; but not so this poor woman, in her day of sapless theology, ere John Wesley waked the snoring church.

Instead of sending a dry clatter of morality about their ears, or evaporating the Bible in the thin generalities of the pulpit, this man drove God's truths home to the hearts of men and women.

In his hands the divine virtues were thunderbolts, not swans' down.