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John Wesley

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1769-70: Opens a New Church; Comments on Rousseau; Geology; Swedenborg

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Chapter 15. Wesley Opens a New Church; Comments on Rousseau; Geology; Swedenborg, and Riding Horseback; Gwennap and 20,000 People; Death of Whitefield


Monday, January 9.—I spent a comfortable and profitable hour with Mr. Whitefield, in calling to mind the former times and the manner wherein God prepared us for a work which it had not then entered into our hearts to conceive.

Friday, February 17 (Yarmouth).—I abridged Dr. Watts's pretty Treatise on the Passions. His hundred and seventy-seven pages will make a useful tract of four-and-twenty. Why do persons who treat the same subjects with me, write so much larger books? Of many reasons, is not this the chief—we do not write with the same view? Their principal end is to get money; my only one, to do good.

Monday, 27 (London.28 )—I had one more agreeable conversation with my old friend and fellow laborer, George Whitefield. His soul appeared to be vigorous still, but his body was sinking apace; unless God interposes, he must soon finish his labors.

Wesley's Land-shark

Thursday, March 30 (Dublin).—I was summoned to the Court of Conscience by a poor creature who fed my horses three or four times while I was on board. For this service he demanded ten shillings. I gave him half a crown. When I informed the Court of this, he was sharply reproved. Let all beware of these land-sharks on our seacoasts!—My scraps of time this week, I employed in reading the account of Commodore Byron. I never before read of any who endured such hardships and survived them. Surely no novel in the world can be more affecting, or more surprising, than this history.

Wednesday, April 19 (Armagh).—We took horse about ten, being desired to call at Kinnard (ten or eleven miles out of the way), where a little society had been lately formed who were much alive to God. At the town-end, I was met by a messenger from Archdeacon C—e who desired I would take a bed with him; and soon after by another who told me the Archdeacon desired I would alight at his door. I did so and found an old friend whom I had not seen for four or five and thirty years.

Wesley Opens a New Church

He received me with the most cordial affection and, after a time, said, "We have been building a new church, which my neighbors expected me to open; but if you please to do it, it will be as well." Hearing the bell, the people flocked together from all parts of the town, and "received the word with all readiness of mind." I saw the hand of God was in this, for the strengthening of this loving people.

Hence we rode through a pleasant country to Charlemount, where I preached to a very large and serious congregation. [We were gathered] near the fort, which has a ditch round it, with some face of a fortification; it probably (according to custom) costs the Government a thousand a year for not three farthings' service!

Thursday, 20.—I went on to Castle Caulfield and preached on the green adjoining to the castle, to a plain, serious people, who still retain all their earnestness and simplicity. Thence I rode to Cookstown, a town consisting of one street about a mile long, running directly through a bog. I preached to most of the inhabitants of the town; and so the next day, morning and evening. Many "received the word with gladness." Perhaps they will not all be stony-ground hearers.

We took the new road to Dungiven. But it was hard work.

Nigh founder'd, on we fated.
Treading the crude consistence.

We were nearly five hours going fourteen miles, partly on horseback, partly on foot. We had, as usual, a full house at Londonderry in the evening and again at eight on Sunday morning. In the afternoon we had a brilliant congregation. But such a sight gives me no great pleasure, as I have very little hope of doing them good; only with God all things are possible." Both this evening and the next I spoke exceedingly plain to the members of the society. In no other place in Ireland have more pains been taken by the most able of our preachers. And to how little purpose! Bands they have none: four-and-forty persons in society! The greater part of these heartless and cold. The audience in general dead as stones. However, we are to deliver our message; and let our Lord do as seemeth Hirn good.

A Forsaken Beauty

Thursday, May 25.—I rode to Bandon. In the evening we were obliged to be in the house; but the next, Friday, 26, I stood in the main street, and cried to a numerous congregation, "Fear God and keep his commandments: for this is the whole of man" [Eccles. 12:13). Afterward I visited one that a year or two ago was in high life, an eminent beauty, adored by her husband, admired and caressed by some of the first men in the nation. She was now without husband, without friend, without fortune, confined to her bed, in constant pain, and in black despair, believing herself forsaken of God and possessed by a legion of devils! Yet I found great liberty in praying for her and a strong hope that she will die in peace.

Tuesday, June 27.—[From a letter "to a pious and sensible woman"] "By Christian perfection, I mean 1) loving God with all our heart. Do you object to this? I mean 2) a heart and life all devoted to God. Do you desire less? I mean 3) regaining the whole image of God. What objection to this? I mean 4) having all the mind that was in Christ. Is this going too far? I mean 5) walking uniformly as Christ walked. And this surely no Christian will object to. If anyone means anything more or anything else by perfection, I have no concern with it. But if this is wrong, yet what need of this heat about it, this violence, I had almost said, fury of opposition, carried so far as even not to lay out anything with this man, or that woman, who professes it?"

Monday, July 3.—I rode to Coolylough (where was the quarterly meeting) and preached at eleven and in the evening. While we were singing, I was surprised to see the horses from all parts of the ground gathering about us. Is it true then that horses, as well as lions and tigers have an ear for music?

Sunday, 30.—At five I preached at Leeds; and on Monday, 31, prepared all things for the ensuing Conference. Tuesday, August 1, it began; and a more loving one we never had. On Thursday I mentioned the case of our brethren at New York, who had built the first Methodist preaching-house in America and were in great want of money and much more of preachers. Two of our preachers, Richard Boardman and Joseph Pillmoor, willingly offered themselves for the service; by whom we determined to send them fifty pounds, as a token of our brotherly love.

Wesley at the Countess of Huntingdon's

Wednesday, August 23.—I went on to Trevecka. Here we found a concourse of people from all parts, come to celebrate the Countess of Huntingdon's birthday and the anniversary of her school, which was opened on the twenty-fourth of August, last year. I preached in the evening to as many as her chapel could well contain; which is extremely neat, or rather, elegant; as are the dining room, the school, and all the house. About nine Howell Harris desired me to give a short exhortation to his family. I did so; and then went back to my Lady's and laid me down in peace.

Thursday, 24.—I administered the Lord's supper to the family. At ten the public service began. Mr. Fletcher preached an exceedingly lively sermon in the court, the chapel being far too small. After him, Mr. William Williams preached in Welsh, till between one and two o'clock. At two we dined. Meantime, a large number of people had baskets of bread and meat carried to them in the court. At three I took my turn there, then Mr. Fletcher, and about five the congregation was dismissed. Between seven and eight the love-feast began at which I believe many were comforted. In the evening several of us retired into the neighboring wood, which is exceedingly pleasantly laid out in walks. One of these leads to a little mount, raised in the midst of a meadow, and commanding a delightful prospect. This is Howell Harris's work, who has likewise greatly enlarged and beautified his house; with the gardens, orchards, walks, and pieces of water that surround it, it is a kind of little paradise.

Friday, 25.—We rode through a lovely country to Chepstow. I had designed to go straight on, but yielded to the importunity of our friends to stay and preach in the evening. Meantime, I took a walk through Mr. Morris's woods. There is scarcely anything like them in the kingdom. They stand on the top and down the side of a steep mountain, hanging in a semicircular form over the river. Through these woods abundance of serpentine walks are cut, wherein many seats and alcoves are placed; most of them command a surprising prospect of rocks and fields on the other side of the river. And must all these be burned up? What will become of us then, if we set our hearts upon them?

The Gentleman with Rotten Eggs

Friday, September 8.—I preached about nine at Taunton and then rode on to Bridgewater. This afternoon I went to the top of Brent Hill. I know not that I ever before saw such a prospect. Westward one may see to the mouth of the Bristol Channel; and the three other ways, as far as the eye can reach. And most of the land which you see is well cultivated, well wooded, and well watered; the globe of earth, in its present condition, can hardly afford a more pleasing scene.

Tuesday, 19.—Between twelve and one, I preached at Freshford; on White's Hill, near Bradford, in the evening. By this means many had an opportunity of hearing who would not have come to the room. I had designed to preach there again the next evening, but a gentleman in the town desired me to preach at his door. The beasts of the people were tolerably quiet till I had nearly finished my sermon. They then lifted up their voices, especially one, called a gentleman, who had filled his pocket with rotten eggs. But, a young man coming unawares clapped his hands on each side and mashed them all at once. In an instant he was perfume all over, though it was not so sweet as balsam.

Tuesday, October 24.—I preached at Alston, in a large maltroom, where one side of my head was very warm, through the crowd of people, the other very cold, having an open window at my ear. Between six and seven I preached at Northampton; and it was an awful season.

This evening there was such an aurora borealis as I never saw before; the colors, both the white, the flame color, and the scarlet, were exceedingly strong and beautiful. But they were awful too, and an abundance of people were frightened into many good resolutions.

Wesley on Geology and Rousseau

Tuesday, December 26.—I read the letters from our preachers in America informing us that God had begun a glorious work there; that both in New York and Philadelphia multitudes flock to hear and behave with the deepest seriousness; and that the society in each place already contains above a hundred members.

Friday, 29,29 we observed as a day of fasting and prayer, partly on account of the confused state of public affairs, partly as preparatory to the solemn engagement which we were about to renew.


Monday, January 1.—About eighteen hundred of us met together; it was a most solemn season. As we did openly avouch the Lord to be our God, so did He avouch us to be His people [see Deut. 26.17, 18].

Wednesday, 17.—In a little journey which I took into Bedfordshire, I finished Dr. Burnet's Theory of the Earth . He is doubtless one of the first-rate writers, both as to sense and style; his language is remarkably clear, unaffected, nervous, and elegant. And as to his theory, none can deny that it is ingenious and consistent with itself. And it is highly probable 1) that the earth arose out of the chaos in some such manner as he describes; 2) that the antediluvian earth was without high or abrupt mountains, and without sea, being one uniform crust, enclosing the great abyss; 3) that the flood was caused by the breaking of this crust and its sinking into the abyss of waters; and 4) that the present state of the earth, both internal and external, shows it to be the ruins of the former earth. This is the substance of his two former books, and thus far I can go with him.

I have no objection to the substance of his third book upon the general conflagration, but think it one of the noblest tracts which is extant in our language. And I do not much object to the fourth, concerning the new heavens and the new earth. The substance of it is highly probable.

Saturday, February 3, and at my leisure moments on several of the following days, I read with much expectation a celebrated book—Rousseau upon Education. But how was I disappointed! Sure a more consummate coxcomb never saw the sun! How amazingly full of himself! Whatever he speaks, he pronounces as an oracle. But many of his oracles are as palpably false, as that "young children never love old people." No! Do they never love grandfathers and grandmothers? Frequently more than they do their own parents. Indeed, they love all that love them and that with more warmth and sincerity than when they come to riper years.

But I object to his temper, more than to his judgment: he is a mere misanthrope; a cynic all over. So indeed is his brother-infidel, Voltaire, and well-nigh as great a coxcomb. But he hides both his doggedness and vanity a little better; whereas here it stares us in the face continually.

As to his book, it is whimsical to the last degree, grounded neither upon reason nor experience. To cite particular passages would be endless; but anyone may observe concerning the whole that the advices which are good are trite and common, only disguised under new expressions. And those which are new, which are really his own, are lighter than vanity itself. Such discoveries I always expect from those who are too wise to believe their Bibles.

Swedenborg an Entertaining Madman

Wednesday, 28.—I sat down to read and seriously consider some of the writing of Baron Swedenborg. I began with huge prejudice in his favor, knowing him to be a pious man, one of a strong understanding, of much learning, and one who thoroughly believed himself. But I could not hold out long. Any one of his visions puts his real character out of doubt. He is one of the most ingenious, lively, entertaining madmen that ever set pen to paper. But his waking dreams are so wild, so far remote both from Scripture and common sense, that one might as easily swallow the stories of "Tom Thumb," or "Jack the Giant-Killer."

Monday, March 5.—I came to Newbury, where I had been much importuned to preach. But where? The Dissenters would not permit me to preach in their meeting-house. Some were then desirous to hire the old playhouse, but the good mayor would not suffer it to be so profaned! So I made use of a workshop—a large, commodious place. But it would by no means contain the congregation. All that could hear behaved well, and I was in hopes God would have a people in this place also. The next evening I preached at Bristol, and spent the rest of the week there.

Wesley and His Horses

Wednesday, 21.—In the following days I went on slowly, through Staffordshire and Cheshire to Manchester. In this journey, as well as in many others, I observed a mistake that almost universally prevails; I desire all travelers to take good notice of it, for it may save them both from trouble and danger. Nearly thirty years ago I was thinking, "How is it that no horse ever stumbles while I am reading?" (History, poetry, and philosophy I commonly read on horseback, having other employment at other times.) No account can possibly be given but this: because then I throw the reins on his neck. I then set myself to observe; and I aver, that in riding above a hundred thousand miles, I scarcely ever remember any horse (except, two, that would fall head over heels anyway) to fall or make a considerable stumble while I rode with a slack rein. To fancy, therefore, that a tight rein prevents stumbling is a capital blunder. I have repeated the trial more frequently than most men in the kingdom can do. A slack rein will prevent stumbling if anything will. But in some horses nothing can.

Wednesday, April 25.—Taking horse at five, we rode to Dunkeld, the first considerable town in the Highlands. We were agreeably surprised: a pleasanter situation cannot be easily imagined. Afterward we went some miles on a smooth, delightful road, hanging over the river Tay; and then went on, winding through the mountains, to the Castle of Blair. The mountains, for the next twenty miles, were much higher and covered with snow. In the evening we came to Dalwhinny, the dearest inn I have met with in North Britain. In the morning we were informed that so much snow had fallen in the night that we could get no farther. And indeed, three young women, attempting to cross the mountain to Blair, were swallowed up in the snow. However, we resolved, with God's help, to go as far as we could. But, about noon, we were at a full stop; the snow, driving together on the top of the mountain, had quite blocked up the road. We dismounted and, striking out of the road warily, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, with many stumbles but no hurt, we got on to Dalmagarry and before sunset to Inverness.

Friday, 27.—I breakfasted with the senior minister, Mr. McKenzie, a: pious and friendly man. At six in the evening I began preaching in the church and with very uncommon liberty of spirit. At seven in the morning I preached in the library, a large commodious room; but it would not contain the congregation; many were constrained to go away. Afterward I rode over to Fort George, a very regular fortification, capable of containing four thousand men. As I was just taking horse, the commanding officer sent word that I was welcome to preach. But it was a little too late: I had then but just time to ride back to Inverness.

Wesley at Nairn, Elgin, and Aberdeen

Monday, 30.—We set out in a fine morning. A little before we reached Nairn, we were met by a messenger from the minister, Mr. Dunbar; he desired that I would breakfast with him and give them a sermon in his church. Afterward we hastened to Elgin, through a pleasant and well-cultivated country. When we set out from hence, the rain began and poured down till we came to the Spey, the most impetuous river I ever saw. Finding the large boat was in no haste to move, I stepped into a small one, just going off. It whirled us over the stream almost in a minute. I waited at the inn at Fochabers (dark and dirty enough in all reason), till our friends overtook me with the horses. The outside of the inn at Keith was of the same hue, and promised us no great things. But we were agreeably disappointed. We found plenty of everything and so dried ourselves at leisure.

Sunday, May 6.—I preached in the college kirk at Old Aberdeen, to a very serious (though mostly genteel) congregation. In the evening I preached at our own room and early in the morning took my leave of this loving people. We came to Montrose about noon. I had designed to preach there but found no notice had been given. However, I went down to the green and sang a hymn. People presently flocked from all parts, and God gave me great freedom of speech; I hope we did not meet in vain.

At seven in the evening I preached at Arbroath, properly Aberbrothwick. The whole town seems moved: the congregation was the largest I have seen since we left Inverness. And the society, though but of nine months' standing, is the largest in the kingdom, next that of Aberdeen.

Tuesday, 8.—I took a view of the small remains of the abbey. I know nothing like it in all North Britain. I paced it and found it a hundred yards long. The breadth is proportionable. Part of the west end, which is still standing, shows it was fully as high as Westminster Abbey. The south end of the cross aisle likewise is standing, near the top of which is a large circular window. The zealous Reformers, they told us, burnt this down. God deliver us from reforming mobs!

I have seen no town in Scotland which increases so fast, or which is built with so much common sense, as this. Two entirely new streets and part of a third have been built within these two years. They run parallel with each other and have a row of gardens between them. So that every house has a garden, and thus both health and convenience are consulted.

Where Are the Highlands?

Monday, 14.—After ten years' inquiry, I have learned what are the Highlands of Scotland. Some told me, "The Highlands begin when you cross the Tay"; others, "when you cross the North Esk"; and others, "when you cross the river Spey." But all of them missed the mark. The truth of the matter is, the Highlands are bounded by no river at all, but by carns, or heaps of stones laid in a row, southwest and northeast, from sea to sea. These formerly divided the kingdom of the Picts from that of the Caledonians, which included all the country north of the carns; several whereof are still remaining. It takes in Argyleshire, most of Perthshire, Murrayshire, with all the northwest counties. This is called the Highlands because a considerable part of it (though not the whole) is mountainous. But it is not more mountainous than North Wales, nor than many parts of England and Ireland; nor do I believe it has any mountain higher than Snowdon Hill, or the Skiddaw in Cumberland. Talking Erse [Gaelic], therefore, is not the thing that distinguishes these from the Lowlands. Neither is this or that river; both the Tay, the Esk, and the Spey running through the Highlands, not south of them.

Friday, 18.—We rode over to the Earl of Haddington's seat, finely situated between two woods. The house is exceedingly large and pleasant, commanding a wide prospect both ways; and the Earl is cutting walks through the woods, smoothing the ground and much enlarging and beautifying his garden. Yet he is to diel In the evening, I trust God broke some of the stony hearts of Dunbar. A little increase here is in the society likewise, and all the members walk unblamably.

Wesley and the Turnpikes

Friday, June 15.—I was agreeably surprised to find the whole road from Thirsk to Stokesley, which used to be extremely bad, better than most turnpikes. The gentlemen had exerted themselves and raised money enough to mend it effectually. So they have done for several hundred miles in Scotland, and throughout all Connaught in Ireland; and so they undoubtedly might do throughout all England, without saddling the poor people with the vile imposition of turnpikes forever.

In the aftemoon we come to Whitby. Having preached thrice a day for five days, I was willing to preach in the house; but notice had been given of my preaching in the market place; so I began at six, to a large congregation most of them deeply attentive.

Sunday, 17.—We had a poor sermon at church. However, I went again in the afternoon, remembering the words of Mr. Philip Henry, "If the preacher does not know his duty, I bless God that I know mine."

Thursday, 28.—I can hardly believe that I am this day entered into the sixty-eighth year of my age. How marvelous are the ways of God! How has He kept me even from a child! From ten to thirteen or fourteen, I had little but bread to eat, and not great plenty of that. I believe this was so far from hurting me that it laid the foundation of lasting health. When I grew up, in consequence of reading Dr. Cheyne, I chose to eat sparingly and to drink water. This was another great means of continuing my health til I was about seven-and-twenty. I then began spitting of blood, which continued several years. A warm climate cured this. I was afterward brought to the brink of death by a fever; but it left me healthier than before. Eleven years after, I was in the third stage of a consumption; in three months it pleased God to remove this also. Since that time I have known neither pain nor sickness, and am now healthier than I was forty years ago. This hath God wrought!

Wesley in St. Albans Abbey

Monday, July 30.—I preached at Bingham, ten miles from Nottingham. I really admired the exquisite stupidity of the people. They gaped and stared while I was speaking of death and judgment, as if they had never heard of such things before. And they were not helped by two surly, ill-mannered clergymen, who seemed to be just as wise as themselves. The congregation at Houghton in the evening was more noble, behaving with the utmost decency.

Tuesday, 31.—At nine I preached in the market place at Loughborough, to almost as large a congregation as at Nottingham and equally attentive. Thence I rode to Markfield. Notwithstanding the harvest, the church was quickly filled. And great was our rejoicing in our great High Priest, through whom we "came boldly to the throne of grace." In the evening I preached in the Castle Yard at Leicester, to a multitude of awakened and unawakened. One feeble attempt was made to disturb them. A man was sent to cry fresh salmon at a little distance; but he might as well have spared the pains, for none took the least notice of him.

Wednesday, August 1.—I rode to Northampton. It being still extremely hot, I determined not to be cooped up, but took my stand on the side of the common, and cried aloud to a large multitude of rich and poor, "Acquaint thyself now with him, and be at peace" [Job 27:21].

Thursday, 2.—Some friends from London met us at St. Albans. Before dinner we took a walk in the abbey, one of the most ancient buildings in the kingdom, nearly a thousand years old; and one of the largest, being five hundred and sixty feet in length (considerably more than Westminster Abbey), and broad and high in proportion. Near the east end is the tomb and vault of good Duke Humphrey. Some now living remember since his body was entire. But after the coffin was opened, so many were curious to taste the liquor in which it was preserved that in a little time the corpse was left bare, and then soon moldered away. A few bones are now all that remain. How little is the spirit concerned at this!

Wesley and the Druid Monuments

Tuesday, 21.—I rode on to Tiverton, and thence through Launceston, Camelford, Port Isaac, Cubert, St. Agnes, and Redruth, to St. Ives. Here God has made all our enemies to be at peace with us, so that I might have preached in any part of the town. But I rather chose a meadow, where such as would might sit down, either on the grass or on the hedges—so the Cornish term their broad stone walls, which are usually covered with grass. Here I enforced, "Fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole duty of man."

Saturday, September 1.—I took a walk to the top of that celebrated hill, Carn Brae. Here are many monuments of remote antiquity, scarcely to be found in any other part of Europe: Druid altars of enormous size, being only huge rocks, strangely suspended one upon the other; and rock basins, followed on the surface of the rock, it is supposed, to contain the holy water. It is probable these are at least coeval with Pompey's theater, if not with the pyramids of Egypt. And what are they the better for this? Of what consequence is it either to the dead or the living whether they have withstood the wastes of time for three thousand or three hundred years?

Congregation of 20,000

Sunday, 2.—At five in the evening I preached in the natural amphitheater at Gwennap. The people covered a circle of nearly fourscore yards diameter and could not be fewer than twenty thousand. Yet, upon inquiry, I found they could all hear distinctly, it being a calm, still evening.

After visiting Medros, Plymouth, and Collumpton, I came on Friday, 7, to Taunton. Presently, after preaching, I took horse. The rain obliged us to make haste; but in a while the saddle came over his neck, and then turned under his belly. I had then only to throw myself off, or I would have fallen under him. I was a little bruised, but soon mounted again and rode to Lymphsham, and the next day to Bristol.

Sunday, 9.—My voice was weak when I preached at Princes Street in the morning. It was stronger at two in the afternoon, while I was preaching under the sycamore tree in Kingswood; and strongest of all at five in the evening, when we assembled near King's Square in Bristol.

Thursday, October 11.—About eleven I preached at Winchester, to a genteel and yet serious congregation. I was a little tired before I came to Portsmouth, but the congregation soon made me forget my weariness. Indeed the people in general here are more noble than most in the south of England. They receive the Word of God "with all readiness of mind," and showed civility, at least, to all that preach it.

Fire at Portsmouth Dock

Friday, 12.—I walked round the Dock, which is much larger than any in England. The late fire began in a place where no one comes, just at low water, and at a time when all were fast asleep. None can doubt its being done by design. It spread with such amazing violence, among tow, and cordage, and dry wood, that none could come near without the utmost danger. Nor was anything expected, but the whole dock would be consumed, if not the town also. But this God would not permit. It stopped on one side, close to the commissioner's house; and just as it was seizing the town on the other side, the wind changed and drove it back. Afterward the fury of it was checked by water, by sand, and by pulling down some buildings. And yet it was fully five weeks before it was wholly put out.

Wesley Preaches Whitefield's Funeral Sermon

Saturday, November 10.—I returned to London, and had the melancholy news of Mr. Whitefield's death confirmed by his executors, who desired me to preach his funeral sermon on Sunday, the eighteenth. In order to write this, I retired to Lewisham on Monday; and on Sunday following, went to the chapel in Tottenham Court Road. An immense multitude was gathered together from all corners of the town. I was at first afraid that a great part of the congregation would not be able to hear; but it pleased God so to strengthen my voice that even those at the door heard distinctly. It was an awful season: all were still as night; most appeared to be deeply affected; and an impression was made on many, which one would hope will not speedily be effaced.

The time appointed for my beginning at the Tabernacle was half-hour after five; but it was quite filled at three, so I began at four. At first the noise was exceedingly great; but it ceased when I began to speak; and my voice was again so strengthened that all who were within could hear, unless an accidental noise hindered here or there for a few moments. Oh, that all may hear the voice of Him with whom are the issues of life and death; and who so loudly, by this unexpected stroke, calls all His children to love one another!

Friday, 23.—Being desired by the trustees of the tabernacle at Greenwich to preach Mr. Whitefield's funeral sermon there, I went over today for that purpose; but neither would this house contain the congregation. Those who could not get in made some noise at first, but in a little while all were silent. Here, likewise, I trust God has given a blow to that bigotry which had prevailed for many years.

Monday, December 3.—I took a little journey into Kent. In the evening I preached at Chatham, in the new house, which was sufficiently crowded with attentive hearers.

Tuesday, 4.—I preached at Canterbury.

Wednesday, 5.—We went to Dover where, with some difficulty, we climbed to the top of Shakespeare's cliff. It is exceedingly high and commands a vast prospect both by sea and land; but it is nothing so terrible in itself as it is in his description. I preached to a very serious congregation in the evening as well as in the morning. The same, likewise, we observed at Canterbury; so that I hope to see good days here also.

Friday, 7.—I preached in Feversham at nine and in the evening at Chatham. So we go through water and firel And all is well, so we are doing or suffering the will of our Lord!

Wednesday, 19.—About noon I preached at Dorking. The hearers were many and seemed all attention. About a hundred attended at Ryegate in the evening, and between twenty and thirty in the morning; dull indeed as stones.

28 Correct to the text.

29 Correct.

John Wesley, The Journal of John Wesley (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Christian Classics Ethereal Library, 2000) Conversion to HTML and placename mark-up by Humphrey Southall, 2009.

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