churchmanship and loyalty. At Wednesbury, Darlaston, and West Bromwich, the mobs were stimulated to abuse the Methodists in the most omrageous manner; even women and children were beaten, stoned, and covered with mud; their houses broken open, and their goods spoiled or carried away. Mr. Wesley hastened to comfort and advise this harassed people as soon as the intelligence reached him, and preached at noon at Wednesbury without molestation; but in the afternoon the mob surrounded the house. The result will best be given from his own account, which displays at once his own admirable presence of mind, and the singular providence of God:

"I was writing at Francis Ward's in the afternoon, when the cry arose that the mob had beset the house. We prayed that God would disperse them: and so it was; one went this way another that, so that in half an hour not a man was left. I told our brethren, Now is the time to go; but they pressed me exceedingly to stay. So, that I might not of fend them, I sat down, though I foresaw what would follow. Before five the mob surrounded the house again, and in greater numbers than ever. The cry of one and all was, 'Bring out the minister, we will have the minister.' I desired one to take the captain by the hand and bring him into the house. After a few sentences, interchanged between us, the lion was become a lamb. I desired him to go, and bring one or two of the most angry of his companions. He brought in two, who were ready to swallow the ground with rage; but in two minutes they were as calm as he. I then bade them make way, that I might go out among the people. As soon as I was in the midst of them, I called for a chair, and asked, 'What do any of you want with me?' Some said, We want you to go with us to the justice.' I replied, 'That I will with all my heart.' I then spoke a few words, which God applied; so that they cried out with might and main, The gentleman is an honest gentleman, and we will spill our blood in his defence.' I asked, 'Shall we go to the justice to-night, or in the morning?" Most of them cried, To-night, to-night! on which I went before, and two or three hundred followed, the rest returning whence they caine.

"The night came on before we had walked a mile, together with a heavy rain. However, on we went to Bentley-Hall, two miles from Wednesbury. One or two ran before, to tell Mr. Lane they had brought Mr. Wesley before his worship. Mr. Lane replied, 'What have I to do with Mr. Wes

ley? Go and carry him back again. By this time the main body came up, and began knocking at the door. A servant told them Mr. Lane was in bed. His son followed, and asked what was the matter.

One replied, Why, an't please you, they sing psalms all day; nay and make folks rise at five in the morning: and what would your worship advise us to do?' 'To go home,' said Mr. Lane, 'and be quiet.'

"Here they were at a full stop, till one advised to go to Justice Persehouse, at Walsall. All agreed to this; so we hastened on, and about seven came to his house. But Mr. Persehouse also sent word that

he was in bed. Now they were at a stand again: but at last they all thought it the wisest course to make the best of their way home. About fifty of

* The descendants of some of these persecuted people still remain, and show, one a cupboard, another some other piece of furniture, the only article saved from the wreck, and preserved with pious care, as a monument of the sufferings of their ancestors.

forethem. The Darlaston mob made what defence they could, but they were weary, as well as outnumbered; so that, in a short time, many being knocked down, the rest went away, and left me in their hands.

"To attempt speaking was vain; for the noise on every side was like the roaring of the sea: so they dragged me along till we came to the town, where seeing the door of a large house open, I attempted to go in; but a man catching me by the hair, pulled me back into the middle of the mob. They made no more stop till they had carried me through the main street, from one end of the town to the other. I continued speaking all the time to those within hearing, feeling no pain or weariness. At the west end of the town, seeing a door half open, I made towards it, and would have gone in; but a gentleman in the shop would not suffer me, saying they would pull the house to the ground. However, I stood at the door and asked, Are you willing to hear me speak?" Many cried out, No, no ! knock his brains out; down with him; kill him at once.' Others said, 'Nay, but we will hear him first.' I began asking, 'What evil have I done? Which of you all have I wronged in word or deed? and continued speaking for above a quarter of an hour, till my voice suddenly failed. Then the floods began to lift up their voice again; many crying out, 'Bring him away! bring him away!'

"In the meantime my strength and voice returned and I broke out aloud into prayer. And now the man who just before headed the mob, turned and said, 'Sir, I will spend my life for you; follow me, and not one soul here shall touch a hair of your head. Two or three of his fellows confirmed his words, and got close to me immediately. At the same time the gentleman in the shop cried out, 'For

shame, for ame; let him go.' An honest butcher,

who was a little farther off, said it was a shame they should do thus; and pulled back four or five, one after another, who were running on the most fiercely. The people then, as if it had been by common consent, fell back to the right and left, while those three or four men took me between them, and carried me through them all: but on the bridge the mob rallied again; we therefore went on one side, over the mill-dam, and thence through the meadows; till, a little before ten, God brought me safe to Wednesbury; having lost only one flap of my waistcoat, and a little skin from one of my hands.

"From the beginning to the end I found the same

presence of mind as if I had been sitting in my own study. But I took no thought for one moment before another; only once it came into my mind, that if they should throw me into the river, it would spoil the papers that were in my pocket. For myself, I did not doubt but I should swim across, having but a thin coat, and a light pair of boots.

The circumstances that follow I thought were particularly remarkable: 1. That many endeavored to throw me down while we were going down-hill, on a slippery path to the town; as well judging, that if I was once on the ground I should harily rise any more. But I made no stumble at all, nor the least slip, till I was entirely out of their hands.

2. That although many strove to lay hold of my collar or clothes to pull me down, they could not fasten at all; only one got fast hold of the flap of my waistcoat, which was soon left in his hand.

3. That a lusty man just behind, struck at me several times with a large oaken stick; with which if he had struck me once on the back part of my head, it would have saved him all farther trouble: but every time the blow was turned aside, I know not how. 4. That another came rushing through the press, and raising his arm to strike, on a sudden let it drop, and only stroked my head saying, 'What soft hair he has!' 5. That I stopped exactly at the mayor's door, as if I had known it, which the mob doubtless thought I did, and found him standing in the shop; which gave the first check to the madness of the people. 6. That the very first men whose hearts were turned, were the heroes of the town, the captains of the rabble on all occasions; one of them having been a prizefighter at the bear-gardens. 7. That from first to last I heard none give a reviling word, or call me by any opprobrious name whatever. But the cry of one and all was, The preacher! the preacher! the parson! the minister! 8. That no creature, at least within my hearing, laid any thing to my charge, either true or false false; having in the hurry quite forgot to provide themselves with an accusation of any kind. And, lastly, they were utterly at a loss what they should do with me; none proposing any determinate thing, only, 'Away with him; kill him at once.'

"When I came back to Francis Ward's, I found many of our brethren waiting upon God. Many also, whom I had never seen before, came to rejoice with us; and the next morning as I rode through the town, in my way to Nottingham, every one I met expressed such a cordial affection, that I could scarce believe what I saw and heard."

At Nottingham he met with Mr. Charles Wesley, who has inserted in his Journal a notice of the meeting, highly characteristic of the spirit of martyrdom in which both of them lived :

"My brother came, delivered out of the mouth of the lions! His clothes were torn to tatters; he looked like a soldier of Christ. The mob of Wednesbury, Darlaston, and Walsall, were permitted to take and carry him about for several hours, with a full intent to murder him: but his work is not yet finished, or he had been now with the souls under the altar."" Undaunted by the usage of John, Charles immediately set out for Wednesbury, to encourage the societies.

In this year Mr. Wesley made his first journey into Cornwall, where his brother, led by the same sympathies to communicate the gospel to the then rude and neglected miners of that extreme part of the kingdom, as had induced him to visit the colliers of Kingswood, Staffordshire, and the North, had preceded him. Here he had preached in various places, sometimes amidst mobs, "as desperate as that at Sheffield." Mr. Wesley followed in August, and came to St. Ives, where he found a small religious society, which had been formed upon Dr. Woodward's plan. They gladly received him, and

formed the nucleus of the Methodist societies in

Cornwall, which from this time rapidly increased. In this visit he spent three weeks, preaching in the most populous parts of the mining district, with an effect which still continues to be felt. In no part of England has Methodism obtained more influence than in the west of Cornwall. It has become in fact the leading profession of the people, and its moral effects upon society may be looked upon with the highest satisfaction and gratitude. Nor were the Cornish people ungrateful to the instrument of the benefit. When he was last in the county, in old

Between this visit and that of the next year, a hot persecution, both of the preachers and people, broke forth. The preaching-house at St. Ives was pulled to the ground: one of the preachers was impressed and sent for a soldier, as were several of the people: whilst being stoned, covered with dirt, and abused, was the treatment which many others of them met with from day to day. But notwithstanding this, they who had been eminent for hurling, fighting, drinking, and all manner of wickedness, continued eminent for sobriety, piety, and meekness. The impressment of the preachers for soldiers by the magistrates, was not, however, confined to Cornwall. About the same time, John Nelson, and Thomas Beard were thus seized and sent for soldiers, for no other crime, either committed or pretended, than that of calling sinners to repentance. The passive heroism of John Nelson is well known. Thomas Beard also was "nothing terrified by his adversaries;" but his body after a while sunk under affliction. He was then lodged in the hospital of Newcastle, where he still praised God continually. His fever increasing, he was let blood: his arm festered, mortified, and was cut off; two or three days after which, God signed his discharge, and called him to his eternal home.

The riots in Staffordshire, also, still continued. "The mob of Walsall, Darlaston, and Wednesbury, hired for the purpose by their superiors, broke open their poor neighbors' houses at their pleasure by day and by night; extorting money from the few that had it, taking away or destroying their victuals and goods, beating and wounding their bodies, insulting the women, and openly declaring they would destroy every Methodist in the country. Thus his majesty's peaceable and loyal subjects were treated for eight months, and were then publicly branded in the Whitehall and London Evening Post, for rioters and incendiaries !"*

Several other instances of the brutal maltreatment of the preachers occurred in these early periods, which ended in disablement, or premature death. The persecution at St. Ives, Mr. Wesley observes, " was owing in great measure to the indefatigable labors of Mr. Hoblin, and Mr. Simmons, gentlemen worthy to be had in everlasting remembrance for their unwearied endeavors to destroy heresy,

Fortunati ambo! Siquid mea pagina possit,
Nulla dies unquam memori vos eximet ævo.

"Happy both! Long as my writings, shall your fame remain."

In August, 1744, Mr. John Wesley preached for the last before the university Charles Wesley was present, and observes in his journal: "My brother bore his testimony before a crowded audience, much increased by by the races. Never have I seen a more attentive congregation; they did not suffer a word to escape them. Some of the heads of colleges stood up the whole time, and fixed their eyes upon him. If they can endure sound doctrine, like his, he will surely leave a blessing behind him. The vice-chancellor sent after him, and desired his notes, which he sealed up and sent immediately."

His own remarks upon this occasion are, " I am now clear of the blood of those men. I have fully delivered my own soul. And I am well pleased

with people, anxious to get a sight of him, and to

pronounce upon him their benedictions."

preaching in one place, without any other loss, and that in a kind of honorable manner; it being determined, that, when my next turn to preach came, they would pay another person to preach for me. And so they did twice or thrice, even to the time I resigned my fellowship."*

Mr. Wesley had at this time a correspondence with the Rev. James Erskine, from whom he learned that several pious ministers and others, in Scotland, duly appreciated his character, and rejoiced in the success of his labors, notwithstanding the difference of their sentiments. Mr. Erskine's letter indeed contains a paragraph which breathes a liberality not very common in those days, and which may be useful in the present, after all our boastings of enlarged charity: "Are the points which give the different denominations, (to Christians,) and from whence proceed separate communities, animosities, evil speakings, surmises, and, at least, cooiness of affection, aptness to miconstrue, slowness to think well of others, stiffness in one's own conceits, and over-valuing one's own opinion, &c. &c. are these points (at least among the far greatest part of protestants) as important, as clearly revealed, and as essential, or as closely connected with the essentials of practical Christianity, as the loving of one another with a pure heart fervently, and not forsaking, much less refusing, the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some was, and now of almost all is ?"t

In a subsequent letter this excellent man expresses an ardent wish for union among all those of different denominations and opinions who love the Lord Jesus Christ; and on such a subject, he was speaking to a kindred mind; for no man ever set a better example of Christian charity, and no where is the excellence and obligation of that temper more forcibly drawn and incuicated than in his most interesting sermon on " A Catholic Spirit." With such a testimony and example before them, his followers would be the most inexcusable class of Christians were they to indulge in that selfish sectarianism with which he was so often unjustly charged; and for which they, though not faultless in this respect, have also been censured more frequently and indiscriminately than they have merited. It would scarcely be doing justice to this part of Mr. Wesley's character not to insert an extract from the mon alluded to :

ser

me

"Is thy heart right with God? If it be, give thy hand. I do not mean, 'Be of my opinion.' You need not. I do not expect, or desire it. Neither do I mean, 'I will be of your opinion. I cannot. It does not depend on my choice; I can no more think, than I can see or hear as I will. Keep you your opinion; I mine; and that as steadily as ever. You need not endeavor to come over to me, or bring me over to you. I do not desire you to dispute those points, or to hear or speak one word concerning them. Let all opinions alone on one side and the other. Only 'give me thine hand.'

excellent use, particularly in the great congregation, If you judge extemporary prayer to be of more use, act suitable to your own judgment. My sentiment is, that I ought not to forbid water, wherein persons may be baptized; and, that I ought to eat bread and drink wine, as memorials of my dying master. However, if you are not convinced of this, act ac. cording to the light you have. I have no desire to dispute with you one moment upon any of the preceding heads. Let all these smaller points stand aside. Let them never come into sight. "If thine heart be as my heart, if thou love God and all mankind, I ask no more: 'Give me thy hand.'

"I mean, First, love me. And that not only as thou lovest all mankind; not only as thou lovest thine enemies, or the enemies of God, those that hate thee, that 'despitefully use thee, and persecute thee;' not only as a stranger, as one of whom thou knowest neither good nor evil. I am not satisfied with this. No; 'If thine heart be right, as mine with thy heart,' then love me with a very tender affection, as a friend that is closer than a brother, as a brother in Christ, a fellow citizen of the New Jerusalem, a fellow soldier engaged in the same warfare, under the same captain of our salvation. Love me as a companion in the kingdom and patience of Jesus, and a joint heir of his glory.

"Love me (but in a higher degree than thou dost the bulk of mankind) with the love that is 'longsuffering and kind;' that is patient, if I am ignorant or out of the way, bearing and not increasing my burden; and is tender, soft, and compassionate still; that 'envieth not, if at any time it please God to prosper me in this work even more than thee. Love me with the love that is not provoked' either at my follies or infirmities, or even at my acting (if it should sometimes so appear to thee) not according to the will of God. Love me so as to 'think no evil of me, to put away all jealousy and evil surmising. Love me with the love that 'covereth all things;' that never reveals either my faults or infirmities; that 'believeth all things,' is always willing to think the best, to put the fairest construction on all my words and actions; that 'hopeth all things;' either that the thing related was never done, or not done with such circumstances as are related; or at least, that it was done with a good intention, or in a sudden stress of temptation. And hope to the end, that whatever is amiss will, by the grace of God, be corrected, and whatever is wanting, supplied, through the riches of his mercy in Christ Jesus."*

And then, having shown how a catholic spirit differs from practical and speculative latitudinarianism and indifference, he concludes: "A man of a catholic spirit is one who, in the manner above mentioned, gives his hand' to all whose 'hearts are right with his heart. One who knows how to value and praise God for all the advantages he enjoys, with regard to the knowledge of the things of God, the true scriptural manner of worshipping him; and, above all, his union with a congregation fearing God and working righteousness. One who, retaining these blessings with the strictest care, keeping them as the apple of his eye, at the same time loves as friends, as brethren in the Lord, as members of Christ and children of God, as joint partakers row of the present kingdom of God, and fellow-heirs of his eternal kingdom, all, of whatever opinion, or worship, or congregation, who believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, who love God and man, who rejoicing to please, and fearing to offend God, are careful to abstain from evil, and zealous of good works. He is the man of a truly catholic spirit, who bears all these continually upon his heart, who, having an

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all his words to

ing for their welfare, does not cease to commend them to God in prayer, as well as to plead their cause before men; who speaks comfortably to them, and labors by strengthen their hands in God. He assists them to the uttermost of his power in all things, spiritual and temporal. He is ready 'to spend and be spent for them; yea, 'to lay down his life for their sake.'"*

The first CONFERENCE was held in June, 1744. The societies had spread through various parts of the kingdom; and a number of preachers, under the name of assistants and helpers, the former being superintendents of the latter, had been engaged by Mr. Wesley in the work. Some clergymen, also, more or less co-operated to promote these attempts to spread the flame of true religion, and were not yet afraid of the cross. These circumstances led to the distribution of different parts of the kingdom into circuits, to which certain preachers were for a time appointed, and were then removed to others. The superintendence of the whole was in the two brothers, but particularly in Mr. John Wesley. The annual conferences afforded, therefore, an admirable opportunity of conversing on important points and distinctions of doctrine, that all might "speak the same thing" in their public ministrations; and of agreeing upon such a discipline as the new circumstances in which the societies were placed might require. The labors of the preachers for the ensuing year were also arranged; and consultation was held on all matters connected with the promotion of the work of God, in which they were engaged. Every thing went on, however, not on preconceived plan, but "step by step," as circumstances suggested, and led the way. To the great principle of doing good to the souls of men, every thing was subordinated; not excepting even their prejudices and fears, as will appear from the minutes of the first conference, which was held in London, as just stated, in 1744. The ultimate separation of the societies from the church, after the death of the first agents in the work, was at that early period contemplated as a possibility, and made a subject of conversation; and the resolution was, "We do and will do all we can to prevent those consequences which are supposed to be likely to happen after our death; but we cannot, in good conscience, neglect the present opportunity of saving souls while we live, for fear of consequences which may possibly, or probably, happen after we are dead." To this principle Mr. Wesley was "faithful unto death," and it is the true key to his public conduct. His brother, after some years, less steadily adhered to it; and most of the clergymen, who attached themselves to Mr. Wesley in the earlier periods of Methodism, found it too bold a position, and one which exposed them to too severe a fire, to be maintained by them. It required a firmer courage than theirs to hold out at such a post; but the founder of Methodism never betrayed the trust which circumstances had laid upon him.

CHAPTER VIII.

On his return to London, through the introduction of Mr. E. Perronet, a a pious young man, he visited the Rev. Vincent Perronet, the venerable vicar of Shoreham, in Kent, a very holy and exceilent clergyman, of whose wise and considerate counsels the the W Wesleys afterwards frequently availed themselves, in all matters which involved particular difficulty. The name of Wesley was, however, it seems, every where become a signal for riot; for being invited to perform service in Shoreham church, " as soon," says he, "as I began to preach, the wild beasts began roaring, stamping, blaspheming, ringing the bells, and turning the church into a bear garden. I spoke on for half an hour, though only the nearest could hear. The rioters followed us to Mr. Perronet's house, raging, threatening, and throwing stones. Charles Perronet hung over me to intercept the blows. They continued their uproar after we got into the house." Mr. E. Perronet returned with him to London, and accompanied him on a tour to the north. On the way, they visited Staffordshire, which was still riotous and persecuting; and Mr. Charles Wesley's young friend had a second specimen of the violent and ignorant prejudice with which these modern apostles were followed. The mob beset the house at Tippen Green, and, beating at the door, demanded entrance. "I sat still," says he, "in the midst of thein for half an hour, and was a little concerned for E. Perronet, lest such rough treatment, at his first setting out, should daunt him. But he abounded in valor, and was for reasoning with the wild beasts before they had spent any of their violence. He got a deal of abuse thereby, and not a little dirt, both of which he took very patiently. I had no design to preach; but being called upon by so unexpected a congregation, I rose at last, and read, 'When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit on the throne of his glory.' While I reasoned with them of judgment to come, they grew calmer by little and little. I then spake to them, one by one, till the Lord had disarmed them all. One who stood out the longest, I held by the hand and urged the love of Christ crucified, till, in spite of both his natural and diabolical courage, he trembled like a leaf. I was constrained to break out into prayer for him. Our leopards were all become lambs; and very kind we were at parting. Near midnight the house was clear and quiet. We gave thanks to God for our salvation, and slept in peace."t

Proceeding onward to Dewsbury, he met with an instance of clerical candor, which, as it was rare in those times, deserves to be recorded: "The minister did not condemn the society unheard, but talked with them, examined into the doctrine they had been taught, and its effects on their lives. When he found that as many as had been affected by the preaching were evidendy reformed, and brought to church and sacrament, he testified his approbation of the work, and rejoiced that sinners were converted to God." +

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staring at me, but all quiet. The Lord opened my Whitehead's Life

mouth, and they drew nearer and nearer, stole off their hats, and listened; none offered to interrupt, but one unfortunate esquire who could get no one to second him. His servants and the constables hid themselves; one he found, and bid him go and take me down. The poor constable simply answered, 'Sir, I cannot have the face to do it, for what harm does he do? Several papists attended, and the church minister who had refused me his pulpit with indignation. However he came to hear with his own ears. I wish all who hang us first would, like him, try us afterwards.

"I walked back to Mr. Ord's through the people, who acknowledged, 'It is the truth, and none can speak against it.' A constable followed, and told me, 'Sir Edward Blacket orders you to disperse the town,' (depart, I suppose he meant,) 'and not raise a disturbance here. I sent my respects to Sir Edward, and said, if he would give me leave, I would wait upon him and satisfy him. He soon returned with an answer, that Sir Edward would have nothing to say to me; but if I preached again, and raised a disturbance, he would put the law in execution against me. I answered that I was not conscious of breaking any law of God or man; but if I did, I was ready to suffer the penalty; that as I had not given notice of preaching again at the Cross, I should not preach again at that pl place, nor cause a disturbance any where. I charged the constable, a trembling, submissive soul, to assure his worship

that I reverenced him for his office' sake. The only place I could get to preach in was a cock-pit, and I expected Satan would come and fight me on his own ground. 'Squire Roberts, the justice's son, labored hard to raise a mob, for which I was to be answerable; but the very boys ran away from him, when the poor 'squire persuaded them to go down to the cock-pit and cry fire. I called in words then first heard in that place, 'Repent and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out.' God struck the hard rock, and the waters gushed out. Never have I seen a people more desirous of knowing the truth at the first hearing. I passed the evening in conference with Mr. Wardrobe. O that all our dissenting ministers were like-minded, then would all dissensions cease for ever! November 28th, at six, we assembled again in our chapel, the cock-pit. I imagined myself in the Pantheon, or some heathen temple, and almost scrupled preaching there at first: but we found 'the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof. His presence consecrated the place. Never have I found a greater sense of God than while we were repeating his own prayer. I set before their eyes Christ crucified. The rocks were melted, and gracious tears flowed. We knew not how to part. I distributed some books among them, which they received with the utmost eagerness, begging me to come again, and to send our preach

ers to them." *

After preaching in various parts of Lincolnshire, and the midland counties, Mr. Charles Wesley returned to London: but soon, with unwearied spirit, in company with Mr. Minton, he set off for Bristol, taking Devizes by the way, where he had as narrow an escape for his life as his brother had experienced at Wednesbury. An account of these distinguished ministers of Christ would be imperfect without a particular notice of a few of their greatest perils. They show the wretched state of that country which they were the appointed instruments of raising into a higher moral and civil condition, and they illustrate their own character. Each of the brothers might truly say with an apostle, and his coadjutors, "We have not received the spirit of fear, but of power, (courage,) of love, and of a sound mind."

They felt, too, that they had "received" it; for with them, "boasting was excluded," by that "law of faith" which led them in all things to trust in and glorify God. The account is taken from Mr. Charles Wesley's Journal. The Devizes mob had this peculiarity, that it was led on not only by the curate, but by two dissenters; thus "Herod and Pilate were made friends:"

"February 25th-a day never to be forgotten. At seven o'clock I walked quietly to Mrs. Philips's, and began preaching a little before the time appointed. For three quarters of an hour, I invited a few listening sinners to Christ. Soon after, Satan's whole army assaulted the house. We sat in a little ground room, and ordered all the doors to be thrown open. They brought a hand engine, and began to play into the house. We kept our seats, and they rushed into the passage; just then, Mr. Borough, the constable, came, and seizing the spout of the engine, carried it off. They swore if he did not deliver it they would pull down the house. At that time they might have taken us prisoners; we were close to them, and none to interpose; but they hurried out to fetch the larger engine. In the mean time, we were advised to send for the mayor; but Mr. mayor was gone out of town, in the sight of the people, which gave great encouragement to those who were already wrought up to a proper pitch by the curate, and the gentlemen of the town, particularly Mr. Sutton and Mr. Willy, dissenters, the two leading men. Mr. Sutton frequently came out to the mob to keep up their spirits. He sent word to Mrs. Philips, that if she did not turn that fellow out to the mob, he would send them to drag him out. Mr. Willy passed by again and again, assuring the rioters he would stand by them, and secure them from the law, do what they would.

"The rioters now began playing the larger engine, which broke the windows, flooded the rooms, and spoiled the goods. We were withdrawn to a small upper room in the back part of the house, seeing no way to escape their violence, as they seemed under the full power of the old murderer. They first laid hold on the man who kept the society-house, and dragged him away, and threw him into the horse-pond, and, it was said, broke his back. We gave ourselves unto prayer, believing the Lord would deliver us; how, or when, we saw not, nor any possible way of escaping; we therefore stood still to see the salvation of God. Every now and then some or other of our friends would venture to us, but rather weakened our hands, so that we were forced to stop our ears and look up. Among the rest, the mayor's maid came, and told us her mistress was in tears about me, and begged me to disguise myself in women's clothes, and try to make my escape. Her heart had been turned towards us by the conversion of her son, just on the brink of ruin. God laid his hand on the poor prodigal, and instead of running to sea, he entered the society. The rioters without continued playing their engine, which diverted them for some time; but their number and fierceness still increased; and the gentlemen supplied them with pitchers of ale, as much as they would drink. They were now on the point of breaking in, when Mr. Borough thought of reading the proclamation; he did so at the hazard of his life. In less than the hour, of above a thousand wild beasts, none were left but the guard. Our constable had applied to Mr. Street, the only justice in town, who would not act. We found there was no help in man, which drove us closer to the Lord; and we prayed with little intermission the whole day.

"Our enemies at their return made their main assault at the back door, swearing horridly they would have me if it cost them their lives. Many seeming accidents concurred to prevent their break