Saturday, December 15, 2012

Blame the guns. Otherwise Wesley would be dead.


We came to Bolton about five in the evening. We had no sooner entered the main street than we perceived the lions at Rochdale were lambs in comparison to those at Bolton. Such rage and bitterness I scarcely ever saw before in any creatures that bore the form of men. They followed us in full cry to the house where we went; and as soon as we had gone in, took possession of all the avenues to it and filled the street from one end to the other.

After some time the waves did not roar quite so loud. Mr. P--- thought he might then venture out. They immediately closed in, threw him down and rolled him in the mire; so that when he scrambled from them and got into the house again, one could scarcely tell what or who he was. When the first stone came among us through the window, I expected a shower to follow, and the rather, because they had now procured a bell to call their whole forces together. But they did not design to carry on the attack at a distance: presently one ran up and told us the mob had burst into the house: he added, that they had got J--- B--- in the midst of them. They had; and he laid hold on the opportunity to tell them of "the terrors of the Lord." 

The Journal of John Wesley

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