In regard to the narrow, sectarian feelings of a bigot’s heart, I think I have very little to fear. I do not condemn nor hate _any_ body for his creed; yet, as a firm believer in the undivided Unity of our God, I differ very much from some others. But I pray to God that I may daily learn to love all his children. I like the creed-makers but not their creeds, if they contain anything that is absurd and untrue. I trust I have within this slender frame a heart whose commodious hall can accommodate Unitarians, Trinitarians, Mohammedans, and Hindoos; for He who has given it to me has given it on purpose that it might hold all His children. My visit, on the whole, has been a satisfactory one. Nothing seriously disagreeable has happened to injure my health, heart, or usefulness. No country has a canopy of clear sky over it always, no heart is beyond the reach of sorrows. The dark clouds have hung over my head, and thunders have rolled noisily, yet my earnest eyes have seen a clear firmament beyond, and I can say with fulness of heart,-- “In trouble and in grief, O God, Thy smile hath cheered my way, And joy has budded from each thorn That round my footsteps lay.” The practical confidence in God’s parental care is a source from which I draw consolation, courage, and strength. May we all truly believe that our Father is good, and that his whole counsel aims for the eternal welfare of his children. My second source of joy, courage, and hope is my “confidence in man.” I do not wish to loose my trust in him. If I am deceived by ninety and nine, I would still have confidence in the remaining one. Thus with such views of God as a good, loving parent, and with such feelings toward man as a trustworthy brother, I hope to make my way while a sojourner in this beautiful world of God. In this connection I would ask pardon if I have in any way pained, offended, or done injustice to any. I know not that I have done so. Yet how many things we do unawares. A kind lady wrote me a letter and gave me some scoldings, saying that I had pained a great many for the seeming coldness of my heart, that when people came to shake hands with me and speak to me, I did not take respectful notice of them. This, however, is a new thing in my nature. Those who know me know well the average temperature of my heart. It might be (as she says) that, in public gatherings, when tender greetings have crowded upon me, from many persons at once, perhaps I have failed to speak to all. But this is excusable, I know. How can one person speak to several at a time? Frequently I have met four, five, or six brethren or sisters round me. I have used both my hands to “shake hands” with them. Besides, in my country, only one person expects to be spoken to in the same moment.