We left Spanish Town on Wednesday the 19th November, and reached Brother Coultart's the same evening, a distance of fifty miles; the following day we spent with our friends Mr. and Mrs. Coultart, from whom we received the most interesting and gratifying accounts of the progress of the Mission in the parish of St. Ann's. In the evening I preached at St. Ann's Bay, and although there were but a few hours' notice, still the principal part of the chapel house was full. It was to me unspeakably delightful to witness such an assembly in such a notorious place. Friday we proceeded on to Falmouth (thirty-four miles), which place we reached about two o'clock; in the evening I preached for brother Knibb to a very large congregation, the chapel was crowded, and one of the tents also, and many on the outside of the chapel-house. Saturday morning we left our old companions for the eventful town of Montego Bay; when we were three miles distant from the town, we had to pull up to shake hands with some who were come out to meet us; as we proceeded onwards, the numbers and frequency of the groups of friends increased. It was almost more than we could bear. The poor people looked at us as though they could scarcely believe their own eyes, and then they clasped their hands, blessed God, and burst into tears. When we entered the town, a crowd of recollections burst upon my mind as I looked upon the situation where the Blanche was anchored when I was first taken prisoner, &c.; but my attention was soon aroused from reflection, for as we passed along the streets, many of the inhabitants came to their doors and windows, congratulating us as we passed by. As we proceeded more into the town, the doors and windows became crowded, and many were the kind congratulations of our former townsfriends; some expressed their feelings by their remarks, some waved their handkerchiefs, and others their hats; as we entered the centre of the town we were recognised by one who had been a very staunch friend in our difficulties, he took off his hat and greeted us most cordially; this excited the attention of the negroes in the market, and one of them recognising us, exclaimed, "Bless God, and him come for true. Massa Burchell, him come for true." Others now joined him and began clapping their hands, when the whole multitude, consisting of three or four thousand, waving their hands and hats, set up their shouts, and made the whole town resound with their thundering huzzas. I now endeavoured to press on to our house, but the negroes leaving their baskets and the market followed us. I drove hastily forward, fearing they would surround us and take out our horse, which I have since found they would have done. When we reached the house we were immediately surrounded; the yard and the street were crowded. One of the friends took the child and carried her into the house, for she was completely