Thursday, July 28 (Sheffield).--I received a strange account from Edward Bennet's eldest daughter:
On Tuesday, the twelfth of this month, I told my husband in the morning, 'I desire you will not go into the water today, at least, not into the deep water, on the far side of the town; for I dreamed I saw you there out of your depth, and only your head came up just above the water.' He promised me he would not, and went to work.
"Soon after four in the afternoon, being at John Hanson's (his partner's) house, I was on a sudden extremely sick, so that for some minutes I seemed just ready to expire. Then I was well in a moment. Just at that time, John Hanson, who was an excellent swimmer, persuaded my husband to go into the water on the far side of the town. He objected--the water was deep, and he could not swim; being much importuned to go in, he stood some time after he was undressed, and then kneeling down, prayed with an earnest and loud voice. When he rose from his knees, John, who was swimming, called him again and, treading the water, said, 'See, it is only breast-high.' He stepped in and sank. A man who was near, cutting fern, and who had observed him for some time, ran to the bank and saw his head come up just above the water. The second or third time he rose, he clasped his hands, and cried aloud, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.' Immediately he sank, and rose no more."
One might naturally inquire, What became of John Hanson? As soon as he saw his partner sink, he swam from him to the other side, put on his clothes, and went straight home.
About noon I preached at Woodseats; in the evening at Sheffield. I do indeed live by preaching!
How quiet is this country now, since the chief persecutors are no more seenl How many of them have been snatched away in an hour when they looked not for it! Some time since, a woman of Thorpe often swore she would wash her bands in the heart's blood of the next preacher that came. But before the next preacher came she was carried to her long home. A little before John Johnson settled at Wentwerth, a stout, healthy man who lived there told his neighbors, "After May Day we shall have nothing but praying and preaching but I will make noise enough to stop it." But before May Day he was silent in his grave. A servant of Lord R-- was as bitter as he and told many lies purposely to make mischief; but before this was done, his mouth was stopped. He was drowned in one of the fishponds.
Monday, August 8 (London).--I took a walk in the Charterhouse. I wondered that all the squares and buildings, and especially the schoolboys, looked so little. But this is easily accounted for. I was little myself when I was at school and measured all about me by myself. Accordingly, the upper boys being then bigger than myself seemed to me very big and tall, quite contrary to what they appear now when I am taller and bigger than they. I question if this is not the real ground of the common imagination that our forefathers, and in general men in past ages, were much larger than now, an imagination current in the world eighteen hundred years ago. Whereas, in reality, men have been, at least ever since the deluge, very nearly the same as we find them now, both for stature and understanding.
Friday, September 7.--I rode to St. Agnes.
Sunday, 4—I. T. preached at five. I could scarcely have believed if I had not heard it that few men of learning write so correctly as an unlearned tinner speaks extempore. Mr. V. preached two such thundering sermons at church as I have scarcely heard these twenty years.
Monday, 5.--l rode on to Illogan, but not to the house where I used to preach; indeed his wife promised Mr. P., before he died, that she would always receive the preachers; but she soon changed her mind. God has just taken her only son, suddenly killed by a pit failing upon him; and on Tuesday last, a young, strong man, riding to his burial, dropped off his horse stone dead. The concurrence of these awful providences added considerably to our congregation.
Saturday, 10.--We rode to the Land's End. I know no natural curiosity like this. The vast ragged stones rise on every side, when you are near the point of land, with green turf between as level and smooth as if it were the effect of art. And the rocks which terminate the land are so torn by the sea that they appear like great heaps of ruins.
Sunday, 11.--I preached at St. Just at nine. At one, the congregation in Morva stood on a sloping ground, rank above rank, as in a theater. Many of them bewailed their want of God, and many tasted how gracious He is.
At five I preached in Newlyn, to a huge multitude; and one only seemed to be offended--a very good sort of woman, who took great pains to get away, crying aloud, "Nay, if going to church and sacrament will not put us to heaven, I know not what will."