ceased by a very gentle shock. A third was removed in the same manner. And she was so well that her father found no difficulty in carrying her home behind him.

At ten I began to preach at Wigan, proverbially famous for all manner of wickedness. As I preached abroad, we ex pected some disturbance: but there was none at all. A few were wild at first: but in a little space grew quiet and attentive. I did not find so civil a congregation as this the first time I preached at Bolton.

To-day I wrote the following letter, which I desire may be seriously considered by those whom it concerns.

"Dear Sir,

"There was one thing, when I was withy ou, that gave me pain. You are not in the Society. But why not? Are there not sufficient arguments for it, to move any reasonable man? Do you not hereby make an open confession of Christ, of what you really believe to be his work, and of those whom you judge to be, in a proper sense, his people and his messengers? By this mean, do not you encourage his people, and strengthen the hands of his messengers? And is not this the way to enter into the spirit, and share the blessing of a Christian community? Hereby, likewise, you may have the benefit of the advices and exhortations at the meeting of the Society and also of provoking one another, at the private meetings, to love and good works.

"The ordinary objections to such an union, are of little weight with you. You already give unto the Lord as much as you need to do then. And you are not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, even in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation. Perhaps you will say, 'I am joined in affection.' True: but not to so good effect. This joining half-way, this being a friend to, but not a member of the Society, is by no means so open a confession of the work and servants of God. Many go thus far who dare go no farther, who are ashamed to bear the reproach of an entire union. Either you are ashamed or you are not: If you are, break through at once: If you are not, come unto the light, and do what those well-meaning cowards dare not. This imper

fect union is not so encouraging to the people, nor so strengthening to the preachers. Rather it is weakening their hands, hindering their work, and laying a stumbling block in the way of others. For what can any man think, who knows you are so well acquainted with them, and yet do not join in their Society? What can he think, but that you know them too well to come any nearer to them; that you know that kind of union to be useless, if not hurtful? -And yet, by this very union is the whole (external) work of God upheld throughout the nation; besides all the spiritual good which accrues to each member. O! delay no longer, for the sake of the work, for the sake of the world, for the sake of your brethren; join them inwardly and outwardly, heart and hand, for the sake of your own soul. There is something not easily explained in the fellowship of the Spirit, which we enjoy with a Society of loving Christians. You have no need to give up your share therein, and in the various blessings that result from it. You have no need to exclude yourself from the advice and exhortations given from time to time. These are by no means to be despised, even supposing you have yourself more understanding than he that gives them. You need not lose the benefit of those prayers, which experience shews are attended with a peculiar blessing. But I do not care to meet in Class: I find no good in it.' Suppose you find even a dislike, a loathing of it; may not this be natural, or even diabolical? In spite of this, break through, make a fair trial: it is but a lion in the way. Meet only six times, (with previous prayer) and see if it do not vanish away. But if it be a cross, still bear it for the sake of your brethren. 'But I want to gain my friends and relations.' If so, stand firm. If you give way, you hurt them, and they will press upon you the more. If you do not, you will probably gain them, otherwise you confirm both their wrong notions and wrong tempers. Because I love you, I have spoken fully and freely: to know that I have not spoken in vain, will be a great satisfaction to "Your affectionate Brother, "J. W."

In the evening I preached at Liverpool, and the next day, Sunday 15, the house was full enough. Many of the rich and fashionable were there, and behaved with decency. Indeed I have always observed more courtesy and humanity at Liverpool than at most sea-ports in England.

Monday 16, In the evening, the house was fuller, if possible, than the night before. I preached on the One thing needful and the rich behaved as seriously as the poor. Only one young gentlewoman, (I heard) laughed much. Poor thing! doubtless she thought, "I laugh prettily." Tuesday 17, I preached at Warrington: but what a change! No opposer, nor any trifler now! Every one heard as for life, while I explained and applied, Why will ye die, O house of Israel?

In the evening I preached in the little square adjoining to the Preaching-house at Chester. Here were many wild, rude people, but they were quite out-numbered by those who were civil and attentive: and I believe some impression was made on the wildest. What can shake Satan's kingdom like field-preaching?

Wednesday 18, I should have been glad of a day of rest: but notice had been given of my preaching at noon, near Tatten-hall. The rain began almost as soon as we came in : so I could not preach abroad as I designed, but in a large commodious barn, where all that were present seemed to receive the word of God with joy and reverence. The congregation at Chester, in the evening, was more numerous, and far more serious, than the day before. There wants only a little more field-preaching here, and Chester would be as quiet as London.

Thursday 19, After preaching at Little-Leigh, I rode on to Macclesfield. Here I heard an agreeable account of Mrs. R—, who was in the Society at London from a child; but after she was married to a rich man, durst not own a poor, despised people. Last year she broke through, and came to see me. A few words which I then spoke never left her, not even in the trying hour, during the illness which came a few months after. All her conversation was then in heaven: till

feeling her strength quite exhausted, she said, with a smile, "Death, thou art welcome ;" and resigned her spirit.

I preached about seven to a large multitude of attentive hearers. Friday 20, at noon, we made the same shift at Con gleton as when I was here last. I stood in the window, having put as many women as it would contain into the house. The rest, with the men, stood below in the meadow, and many of the townsmen, wild enough. I have scarcely found such enlargement of heart since I came from Newcastle. The brutes resisted long, but were at length overcome, not above five or six excepted. Surely man shall not long have the upper hand: God will get unto himself the victory.

It rained all the day, till seven in the evening, when I be gan preaching at Burslem. Even the poor potters here are a more civilized people than the better sort, so called, at Congleton. A few stood with their hats on, but none spoke a word, or offered to make the least disturbance.

Saturday 21, I rode to Bilbrook, near Wolverhampton, and preached between two and three. Thence we went on to Madeley, a pleasant village, encompassed with trees and bills. It was a great comfort to me, to converse once more with a Methodist of the old stamp, denying himself, taking up his cross, and resolved to be altogether a Christian.

Sunday 22, at ten, Mr. Fletcher read prayers, and I preached on those words in the Gospel, I am the good Shepherd, the good Shepherd layeth down his life for the sheep. The Church would not contain the congregation. But a window near the pulpit being taken down, those who could not come in stood in the Church-yard, and I believe all could hear. The congregation, they said, used to be much smaller in the afternoon than in the morning: but I could not discern the least difference, either in number or seriousness.

I found employment enough for the intermediate hours, in praying with various companies, who hung about the house, insatiably hungering and thirsting after the good word, Mr, Grimshaw, at his first coming to Haworth, had not such a prospect as this. There are many adversaries indeed; but yet they cannot shut the open and effectual door.

Monday 23, the Church was pretty well filled even at five, and many stood in the Church-yard. In the evening I preached at Shrewsbury, to a large congregation, among whom were several men of fortune. I trust, though hitherto we seem to have been ploughing on the sand, there will at last be some fruit.

Wednesday 25, I took horse a little after four, and about two preached in the Market-house at Lanidlos, two or three and forty miles from Shrewsbury. At three we rode for ward, through the mountains, to the Fountain-head. I was for lodging there; but Mr. B. being quite unwilling, we mounted again about seven. After having rode an hour, wé found we were quite out of the way, having been wrong directed at setting out. We were then told to ride over some grounds: but our path soon ended in the edge of a bog: however, we got through to a little house, where an honest man instantly mounting his horse, gallopped before us, up hill and down, till he brought us into a road, which he said led straight to Roes-fair. We rode on, till another met us, and said, "No, this is the road to Aberystwith. If you would go to Roes-fair, you must turn back, and ride down to yonder bridge." The master of a little house near the bridge then directed us to the next village, where we enquired again, (it being past nine) and were once more set exactly wrong. Having wandered an hour upon the mountains, through rocks, and bogs, and precipices, we, with abundance of difficulty, got back to the little house near the bridge. It was vain to think of rest there, it being full of drunken, roaring miners: beside that, there was but one bed in the house, and neither grass, nor hay, nor corn, to bé had. So we hired one of them to walk with us to Roes-fair, though he was miserably drunk, till, by falling all his length in a purling stream, he came tolerably to his senses. Between eleven and twelve we came to the inn; but neither here could we get any hay. When we were in bed, the good hostler and miner thought good to mount our beasts. I believe it was not long before we rose that they put them into the stable but the mule was cut in several places, and my mare