Berridge, Maxfield, and Colley assisted me. And we found God was in the midst, while we devoted ourselves to him in the most solemn and explicit manner.

Saturday 2, I set out for Everton, in order to supply Mr. Berridge's Church in his absence. In my way I preached at Rood Farm, five and forty miles from London. Afterward, the moon shining bright, we had a pleasant ride to Everton. Sunday 3, I read prayers and preached morning and evening to a numerous and lively congregation. I found the people in general were more settled, than when I was here before. But they were in danger of running from East to West. Instead of thinking as many then did, that none possibly have true faith, but those that have trances or visions, they were now ready to think, that whoever had any thing of this kind, had no faith.

Monday 4, after preaching to a large congregation at Wrestlingworth, we rode on to Harston. I never preached a whole sermon by moon-light before. However, it was a solemn season of holy mourning to some; to others of joy unspeakable.

Tuesday 5 I preached at Harston at nine, and about eleven at Wiltstow, three miles farther, to a people just ripe for, Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy-laden. In the afternoon, we set out for Stoke, on the edge of Suffolk. As we rode through Haverhill, we were saluted with one huzza, the mob of that town having no kindness for Methodists. But all was quiet at Stoke: for Sir H. Awill suffer no disturbance there. The congregation came from many miles round and God was in the midst of them. Their hearty prayers went up on every side, and many felt the answer to them.

Wednesday 6, the largeness of the congregation at five, shewed they were not forgetful hearers. I preached longer than I am accustomed to do but still they were not satisfied. Many crowded after me into the dwelling-house. After speaking a few words, I went to prayer. A cry began, and soon spread through the whole company, so that my voice was lost. Two seemed to be distressed above all the rest. We continued wrestling with God, till one of them had a good hope, and the other was filled with joy and peace in believing.

In the afternoon it blew a storm, by the favour of which we came into Haverhill quite unmolested. But notwithstanding wind and rain, the people crowded so fast into the preaching-house, that I judged it best to begin half an hour before the time, by which means it contained the greater part of them. Although they that could not come in made a little noise, it was a solemn and a happy season.

Thursday 7, Abundance of them came again at five, and drank in every word. Here also many followed me into the house, and hardly knew how to part. At nine, I preached at Steeple-Bumstead, three miles from Haverhill, to a considerably larger congregation: and all were serious. Hence we rode for Barkway, four miles from Royston. The preaching-place was exceedingly large; yet it was well filled, and the people were wedged in as closely as possible. And many of them found, that God was there, to their unspeakable comfort. Hence we rode to Barley, where I preached at one.

A middle

aged woman dropped down at my side, and cried aloud for mercy. It was not long before God put a new song in her mouth. At six in the evening I preached at Melbourn. Here, too, God both wounded and healed. I laid hold, after preaching, on a poor backslider, who quickly melted into tears, and determined to return once more to him, from whom she had deeply revolted. Here I talked at large with one who thinks he is renewed in love. Perhaps he is: but his understanding is so small, his experience so peculiar, and his expressions so uncouth, that, I doubt, very few will receive his testimony.

Saturday 9, I rode to Potton. What has God wrought here, since I saw this town, twenty years ago! I could not then find a living Christian therein; but wild beasts in abundance. Now here are many who know in whom they have believed: and no one gives us an uncivil word! I preached at six to a very numerous and serious congregation. What have we to do to despair of any person or people?

cants.

Sunday 10, I preached at six in the morning to nearly the same congregation. I read prayers and preached, morning and afternoon, at Everton, and gave the sacrament to a large number of communiAt four we took horse, and reached Grandchester, a little before seven. Finding a little company met together, I spent half an hour with them exceeding comfortably: and, through the blessing of God, I was no more tired when I went to bed, than when I arose in the morning. Monday 11, the house was thoroughly filled at five, and that with serious and sensible hearers. I was sorry I had no more time at this place: especially as it was so near Cambridge, from whence many gentlemen used to come, when any clergyman preached but my work was fixed: so I took horse soon after preaching, and rode to a village called Botsam-lode, seven miles from Cambridge. Here a large congregation was soon assembled: and I had no sooner named my text, When they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both, then a murmur ran through the whole people, and many of them were in tears. This concern increased as I went on, so that none appeared to be unmoved. One just by me cried with a bitter cry but in a short time she shouted for joy: so did several others; so that it was not easy to tell, whether more were wounded or comforted.

Hence we rode to Lakenheath, and passed a comfortable night. Tuesday 12, just as we set out, the storm, which had been very high all night, brought on impetuous rain. It was a good providence, 1, That we had now a firm, sandy road, not clay and miry fields, as yesterday. 2, That the wind was behind us: otherwise I believe it would have been impossible to go on. It was often ready to bear away man and beast. However, in the afternoon we came safe to Norwich.

Wednesday 10, We rested from our labour. How can they who never labour, taste the sweetness of rest? Friday 15, I preached at Yarmouth. Saturday 16, I transcribed the Society at Norwich. But two hundred of them I made no account of, as they met in no Class. About four hundred remained: half of whom appeared to be

in earnest. Tuesday 19, I rode to Bury, and was glad to find a little, serious company still: but there cannot be much done here, till we preach abroad, or at least in the heart of the town. We are now quite at one end; and the people will not come from the other till they have first tasted the good word. Thursday 21, I rode to Colchester, and found a quiet, loving, regular Society. After spending a day with them, on Saturday 22, I cheerfully returned to London. Wednesday 27, I had a striking proof, that God can teach by whom he will teach. A man full of words, but not of understanding, convinced me of what I could never see before, that anima est ex traduce that all the souls of his posterity, as well as their bodies, were in our first parent.

Friday, Feb. 5, I met at noon, as usual, those who believe they are saved from sin, and warned them of the enthusiasm which was breaking in, by means of two or three weak, though good men, who, from a misconstrued text in the Revelation, inferred, that they should not die. They received the warning in much love. However, this gave great occasion of triumph, to those who sought occasion, so that they rejoiced, as though they had found great spoil.

After preaching at Deptford, Welling, and Sevenoaks, on Tuesday and Wednesday I rode on to Sir Tho. I'Anson's, near Tunbridge, and between six and seven preached in his large parlour, which opens likewise into the hall. The plain people were all attention: if the seed be watered, surely there will be some fruit.

Sunday 14, I buried the remains of Thomas Salmon, a good and useful man. What was peculiar in his experience was, he did not know when he was justified: but he did know, when he was renewed in love, that work being wrought in a most distinct manner. After this he continued about a year, in constant love, joy, and peace. Then, after an illness of a few days, he cheerfully went to God. Monday 15, and the following days, I spent in transcribing the list of the Society. It never came up before to 2,400: Now it contains about 2,700 members.

Sunday 28, We had a peculiar blessing at Spitalfields, while I was enforcing, Now is the day of salvation. Indeed there is always a blessing, when we cut of all delay, and come to God, now by simple faith.

Friday, March 5, I had a long conversation with Joseph Rule, commonly called the White Quaker. He appeared to be a calm, loving, sensible man, and much devoted to God. Monday 8, I retired to Lewisham, to answer Dr. Horne's ingenious sermon on Justification by Works. O that I might dispute with no man! but if I must dispute, let it be with men of sense!

Thursday 11, I buried the remains of Mary Ramsey, a true daughter of affliction, worn out by a cancer in her breast, with a variety of other disorders. To these were added, for a time, great darkness of mind, the body pressing down the soul: yet she did not murmur or repine; much less charge God foolishly. It was not long before he restored the light of his countenance: and shortly after, she fell asleep.

Friday 12, The national fast, was observed all over London with great solemnity. Surely God is well pleased even with this acknowledgement, that he governs the world: and even the outward humiation of a nation, may be rewarded with outward blessings.

Monday 15, I left London, though not without regret, and went slowly through the Societies to Bristol. Saturday 27, I heard a large account of the children near Lawford's-gate, which has made so much noise here. The facts are too glaring to be denied: but how are they to be accounted for? By natural, or supernatural agency? Contend who list about this.

Monday 22, I came to the New-Passage a litle before nine. The rain and wind increased much while we were on the water: however, we were safe on shore at ten. I preached about twelve, in the New Room at Chepstow. One of the congregation was a neighbouring clergyman, who lived in the same stair-case with me at Christ-Church, and was then far more serious than I. Blessed be God, who has looked upon me at last! Now let me redeem the time!

In the afternoon we had such a storm of hail, as I scarcely ever saw in my life. The roads likewise were so extremely bad, that we did not reach Hereford till past eight. Having been well battered both by hail, rain, and wind, I got to bed as soon as I could, but was waked many times by the clattering of the curtains: In the morning, I found the casement wide open: but I was never the worse. I took horse at six, with William Crane, and Francis Walker. The wind was piercingly cold, and we had many showers of snow and rain: but the worst was, part of the road was scarcely passable. So that at ChurchStretton, one of our horses lay down, and would go no farther. However, William Crane and I pushed on, and before seven reached Shrewsbury. A large company quickly gathered together, many of them were wild enough: but the far greater part were calm and attentive, and came again at five in the morning.

Wednesday 30, Having been invited to preach at Wem, Mrs. Glynne desired she might take me thither in a post-chaise: but in little more than an hour, we were fast enough. However, the horses pulled, till the traces broke. I should then have walked on, had I been alone, tho' the mud was deep, and the snow drove impetuously but I could not leave my friend. So I waited patiently, till the man had made shift to mend the traces. And the horses pulled amain: so that with much ado, not long after the time appointed, I came to Wem.

I came but the person who invited me was gone: gone out of town at four in the morning. And I could find no one who seemed either to expect or desire my company. I inquired after the place where Mr. Mather preached: but it was filled with hemp. It remained only to go into the Market-house: but neither any man, woman, nor child cared to follow us; the north-wind roared so loud on every side, and poured in from every quarter: however, before I had done singing, two or three crept in, and after them, two or three hundred. And the power of God was so present among them, that, I believe, many forgot the storm. The wind grew still higher in the afternoon,

so that it was difficult to sit our horses. And it blew full in our faces, but could not prevent our reaching Chester in the evening. Though the warning was short, the room was full: and full of serious, earnest hearers; many of whom expressed a longing desire for the whole salvation of God.

Here I rested on Thursday. Friday, April 1, I rode to Parkgate, and found several ships: but the wind was contrary. I preached at five in the small house they have just built: and the hearers were remarkably serious. I gave notice of preaching at five in the morning. But at half an hour after four, one brought us word that the wind was come fair, and Captain Jordan would sail in less than an hour. We were soon in the ship, wherein we found about threescore passengers. The sun shone bright, the wind was moderate, the sea smooth, and we wanted nothing but room to stir ourselves: the cabin being filled with hops, so that we could not get into it, but by climbing over them, on our hands and knees. In the afternoon we were abreast of Holyhead: but the scene was quickly changed: the wind rose higher and higher, and by seven o'clock blew a storm. The sea broke over us continually, and sometimes covered the ship, which both pitched and rolled in an uncommon manner: so I was informed; for being a little sick, I lay down at six, and slept with little intermission, till nearly six in the morning. We were then near Dublin-Bay, where we went into a boat, which carried us to Dunlary. There we met with a chaise just ready, in which we went to Dublin.

I found much liberty of spirit in the evening while I was enforcing, Now is the day of salvation. The congregation was uncommonly large in the morning; and seemed to be much alive. Many children, I find, are brought to the birth. And shall there not be strength to bring forth?

It was at this time that Mr. Grimshaw fell asleep. He was born, September 3, 1708, at Brindle, six miles south of Preston in Lancashire, and educated at the schools of Blackburn and Heskin, in the same county. Even then the thoughts of death and judgment made some impression upon him. At eighteen he was admitted at Christ's College in Cambridge. Here bad example so carried him away, that for more than two years he seemed utterly to have lost all sense of seriousness which did not revive till the day he was ordained deacon, in the year 1731. On that day he was much affected with the sense of the importance of the ministerial office. And this was increased by his conversing with some at Rochdale, who met once a week to read, and sing, and pray. But on his removal to Todmorden soon after, he quite dropped his pious acquaintance, conformed to the world, followed all its diversions, and contented himself with "doing his duty" on Sundays.

But about the year 1734, he began to think seriously again. He left off all his diversions: he began to catechise the young people, to preach the absolute necessity of a devout life: and to visit his people, not in order to be merry with them as before, but to press them to seek the salvation of their souls.