city, on ‘The Difficulties of Arminian Methodism.’ Mr. Carter said, ‘No, I cannot publish it. Pulling down may be necessary; but I did not go into business to do that, but to build up Christ’s Church as far as in my power.’ ”
In connection with the publication of the History of the Reformation, Mr. Carter used often to relate the following incident. He had gone West to attend a meeting of the General Assembly, and on his voyage down the Mississippi the steamboat struck on a snag, and was so badly injured that they had to wait several days at a little river-side town for repairs. This with the time usually occupied by the passage made the voyage quite a long one, and the passengers became very well acquainted, many of them also being delegates to the Assembly. He had a copy of the History with him, and it was proposed that it should be read aloud, and accordingly there was a large circle of interested listeners. Among the rest was a lady of great refinement, dressed in deep mourning, who seemed to enjoy the book as much as any one. One day during their detention a large party went on shore for a walk, and this lady fell into conversation with Mr. Carter, and told him that she was a Romanist. She belonged to a wealthy and influential family in Pennsylvania, but her home was a very worldly one, and she was brought up with little thought or care for religion. When a young girl she was sent to a convent school. She said she had never seen vital piety till she saw it in those nuns, and she was so impressed with their holy, self-denying lives that she had made their religion hers. She seemed a lovely Christian woman, looking only to Christ as her Lord and Saviour. Mr. Carter said, “I am surprised that you should come daily to listen to
