working by love, and we have ground to believe, increases daily. Monday 21, I buried the remains of Joseph Norbury, a faithful witness of Jesus Christ. For about three years he has humbly and boldly testified, that God had saved him from all sin. And his whole spirit and behaviour in life and death, made his testimony beyond exception.

December 1, All the leisure hours I had in this and the following months, during the time I was in London, I spent in reading over our works with the Preachers, considering what objections had been made, and correcting whatever we judged wrong, either in the matter or expression. Monday 5, I rode to Shoreham, and preached in the evening to a more than usually serious company. The next evening they were considerably increased. The small-pox, just broke out in the town, has made many of them thoughtful. O let not the impression pass away as the morning-dew!

Wednesday 7, I rode to Staplehurst, where Mr. Ch—, who loves all that love Christ, received us gladly. At six the congregation, gathered from many miles round, seemed just ripe for the Gospel: so that (contrary to my custom in a new place) I spoke merely of the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Thursday 8, in returning to London, I was thoroughly wet: but it did me no hurt at all. Friday 16, I spent an agreeable hour, and not unprofitably, in conversation with my old friend John Gambold. O, how gladly could I join heart and hand again! But, alas! thy heart is not as my heart!

Saturday 17, I dined at Dr. G.'s, as friendly and courteous as Doctor Doddridge himself. How amiable is courtesy joined with sincerity! Why should they ever be divided?

Wednesday 21, I took my leave of the Bull-and-Mouth, a barren, uncomfortable place, where much pains has been taken for several years; I fear to little purpose. Thursday 22, I spent a little time on a visit to Mr. M., twenty years ago a zealous and useful magistrate, now a picture of human nature in disgrace: feeble in body and mind; slow of

speech and of understanding. Lord, let me not live to be useless!

Monday 26, I began preaching at a large commodious place in Bartholomew-Close. I preached there again on Wednesday, and at both times with peculiar liberty of spirit. At every place this week I endeavoured to prepare our brethren, for renewing their covenant with God. Sunday, January 1, 1764, We met in the evening for that solemn purpose. I believe the number of those that met, was considerably larger than it was last year. And so was the blessing: truly the consolations of God were not small with us. Many were filled with peace and joy; many with holy fear, and several backsliders were healed.

On some of the following days I visited the little Societies near London. Thursday 12, I preached at Mitcham; and in the afternoon rode to Dorking: but the gentleman to whose house I was invited, seemed to have no desire I should preach; so that evening I had nothing to do. Friday 13, I went at noon into the street, and in a broad place, not far from the Market-place, proclaimed the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. At first, two or three little children were the whole of my congregation: but it quickly increased, though the air was sharp, and the ground exceedingly wet. And all behaved well but three or four grumbling men, who stood so far off, that they disturbed none but themselves. I had purposed to preach there again in the morning: but a violent storm made it impracticable. So, after preaching at Mitcham in the way, I rode back to London.

Monday 16, I rode to High-Wycombe, and preached to a more numerous and serious congregation than ever I saw there before. Shall there be yet another day of visitation to this careless people? A large number was present at five in the morning: but my face and gums were so swelled, I could hardly speak. After I took horse, they grew worse and worse, till it began to rain. I was then persuaded to put on an oil-case hood, which (the wind being very high) kept rubbing continually on my cheek, till both pain and *swelling were gone.

Between twelve and one we crossed Ensham Ferry. The water was like a sea on both sides. I asked the ferry-man, "Can we ride the causeway?" He said, "Yes, Sir, if you keep in the middle." But this was the difficulty, as the whole causeway was covered with water to a considerable depth. And this in many parts ran over the causeway with the swiftness and violence of a sluice. Once my mare lost both her fore feet, but she gave a spring, and recovered the causeway, otherwise we must have taken a swim, for the water on either side was ten or twelve feet deep: howeyer, after one or two plunges more, we got through, and came safe to Witney. The congregation in the evening, as well as the next day, was both large and deeply attentive. This is such a people as I have not seen; so remarkably diligent in business; and at the same time of so quiet a spirit, and so calm and civil in their behaviour.

Thursday 19, I rode through Oxford to Henley. The people here bear no resemblance to those of Witney. I found a wild, staring congregation, many of them void both of common sense and common decency. I spoke exceedingly plain to them all, and reproved some of them sharply. Friday 20, I took (probably my final) leave of Henley, and returned to London.

Monday 23, I rode to Sundon, and preached in the evening to a very quiet and very stupid people. How plain is it, that even to enlighten the understanding, is beyond the power of man! After all our preaching here, even those who have constantly attended, no more understand us, than if we had preached in Greek.

Thursday 26, Returning from Bedford, I tried another way to reach them. I preached on Where their worm dieth not, and their fire is not quenched, and set before them the terrors of the Lord, in the strongest manner I was able. It seemed to be the very thing they wanted. They not only listened with the deepest attention, but appeared to be more affected, than I had ever seen them, by any discourse whatever.

Wednesday, February 1, I buried the remains of Wil

liam Hurd, a son of affliction for many years, continually struggling with inward and outward trials: but his end was peace.

Thursday 2, I preached again in the Foundery, which had been repairing for several weeks. It is not only firm and safe whereas before the main timbers were quite decayed) but clean and decent, and capable of receiving several hundreds more.

Sunday 5, I began Mr. Hartley's ingenious "Defence of the Mystic Writers." But it does not satisfy me. I must still object, 1, To their sentiments. The chief of them do not appear to me, to have any conception of Church-Communion. Again, they slight not only works of piety, the ordinances of God, but even works of mercy. And yet most of them, yea, all that I have seen, hold justification by works. In general, they are wise above what is written, indulging themselves in many unscriptural speculations. I object, 2, To their spirit, that most of them are of a dark, shy, reserved, unsociable temper. And that they are apt to despise all who differ from them, as carnal, unenlightened men. I object, 3, To their whole phraseology. It is both unscriptural, and affectedly mysterious. I say, affectedly. For this does not necessarily result from the nature of the things spoken of. St. John speaks as high and as deep things as Jacob Behmen. Why then does not Jacob speak as plainly as he?

Monday 6, I opened the New Chapel at Wapping, well filled with deeply-attentive hearers. Thursday 16, I once more took a serious walk through the tombs in Westminster Abbey. What heaps of unmeaning stone and marble! But there was one tomb which shewed common sense: that beautiful figure of Mr. Nightingale, endeavouring to screen his lovely wife from death. Here indeed the marble seems to speak, and statues appear only not alive.

After taking Brentford, Deptford, Welling, and Sevenoaks, in my way, on Thursday 23, I rode to Sir Thomas I'Anson's, (at New-bounds, two miles beyond Tunbridge) just quivering on the verge of life, helpless as a child, but,

as it seems, greatly profited by this severe dispensation. The ball, stair-case, and adjoining rooms, just contained the people in the evening. One poor backslider, whom Providence had brought thither, was exceedingly wounded. I left her, resolved to set out once more, if happily God might heal her.

Friday 24, I returned to London. Wednesday 29, I heard Judith, an Oratorio, performed at the Lock. Some parts of it were exceedingly fine. But there are two things in all modern pieces of music, which I could never reconcile to common sense: one, is singing the same words ten times over: the other, singing different words by different persons, at one and the same time. And this, in the most solemn addresses to God, whether by way of prayer or of thanksgiving. This can never be defended, not even by all the musicians in Europe, till reason is quite out of date,

Monday, March 12, I set out for Bristol. Friday 16, I met several serious Clergymen. I have long desired, that there might be an open, avowed union, between all who preach those fundamental truths, original sin, and justification by faith, producing inward and outward holiness. But all my endeavours have been hitherto ineffectual. God's time is not fully come.

Monday 19, I set out for the North. We reached Stroud about two in the afternoon. How many years were we beating the air in this place! One wrong-headed man pulling down all we could build up: but since he is gone, the word of God takes root, and the Society increases both in number and strength. Tuesday 20, at seven, I preached in Painswick. For many years an honest, disputing man, greatly hindered the work of God here also, subverting the souls that were just setting out for heaven. But since God took him to himself, his word has free course, and many sinners are converted to him. We rode hence over the top of the bleak mountains to Stanley, where an earnest congregation was waiting. From Stanley to Evesham we were to go as we could, the lanes being scarcely passable; however, at length, we got through. I never before saw so quiet a con