Sunday, 25.--I preached at Howell Thomas', in Trefollwin parish, to a small, earnest
congregation. The wind being contrary I accepted the invitation of an honest exciseman (Mr. Holloway)
to stay at his house till it should change. Here I was in a little, quiet, solitary spot, where no
human voice was heard but those of the family. On Tuesday I desired Mr. Hopper to ride
over to Holyhead and inquire concerning our passage. He brought word that we might
probably pass in a day or two; so on Wednesday we both went thither. Here we overtook
John Jane, who had set out on foot from Bristol with three shillings in his pocket. Six nights
out of the seven since he set out, he had been entertained by utter strangers. He went by us
we could not tell how, and reached Holyhead on Sunday, with one penny left.
By him we sent back our horses to Mr. Morgan's. I had a large congregation in the evening. It almost grieved me that I could give them but one sermon, now they were at length willing to hear. About eleven we were called to go on board, the wind being quite fair; and so it continued till we were just out of the harbor. It then turned west and blew a storm. There was neither moon nor stars, but rain and wind enough, so that I was soon tired of staying on deck. But we met another storm below: for who should be there but the famous Mr. Gr---, of Carnarvonshire a clumsy, overgrown, hard-faced man; his countenance I could only compare to that (which I saw in Drury Lane thirty years ago) of one of the ruffians in Macbeth. I was going to lie down when he tumbled in and poured out such a volley of ribaldry, obscenity, and blasphemy, every second or third word being an oath, as was scarcely ever heard at Billingsgate. Finding there was no room for me to speak, I retired into my cabin and left him to Mr. Hopper. Soon after, one or two of his own company interposed and carried him back to his cabin.
The Journal of John Wesley
By him we sent back our horses to Mr. Morgan's. I had a large congregation in the evening. It almost grieved me that I could give them but one sermon, now they were at length willing to hear. About eleven we were called to go on board, the wind being quite fair; and so it continued till we were just out of the harbor. It then turned west and blew a storm. There was neither moon nor stars, but rain and wind enough, so that I was soon tired of staying on deck. But we met another storm below: for who should be there but the famous Mr. Gr---, of Carnarvonshire a clumsy, overgrown, hard-faced man; his countenance I could only compare to that (which I saw in Drury Lane thirty years ago) of one of the ruffians in Macbeth. I was going to lie down when he tumbled in and poured out such a volley of ribaldry, obscenity, and blasphemy, every second or third word being an oath, as was scarcely ever heard at Billingsgate. Finding there was no room for me to speak, I retired into my cabin and left him to Mr. Hopper. Soon after, one or two of his own company interposed and carried him back to his cabin.
The Journal of John Wesley
No comments:
Post a Comment