This was a time of great disappointment and discouragement. Everything
had turned out so different to the expectation I had formed and
cherished on first coming to this place. I was then full of hope and
intended to carry all before me with great success, and I thought I did;
but, alas! there was a mistake somewhere, something was wrong.

In those days, when I was building my new church, and talking about the
tower and spire we were going to erect, an elderly Christian lady who
was sitting in her wheel-chair, calmly listening to our conversation,
said, "Will you begin to build your spire from the top?"* It was a
strange question, but she evidently meant something, and looked for an
answer. I gave it, saying, "No, madam, not from the top, but from the
foundation." She replied, "That is right--that is right," and went on
with her knitting.

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* See Tract, "Building from the Top," by Rev. W. Haslam
_______________________

This question was not asked in jest or in ignorance; it was like a
riddle. What did she mean? In a few years this lady passed away, but her
enigmatic words remained. No doubt she thought to herself that I was
beginning at the wrong end, while I went on talking of the choir, organ,
happy worship, and all the things that we were going to attempt in the
new church; that I was aiming at sanctification, without justification;
intending to teach people to be holy before they were saved and
pardoned. This is exactly what I was doing. I had planted the boards of
my tabernacle of worship, not in silver sockets (the silver of which had
been paid for redemption), but in the sand of the wilderness. In other