Wednesday, September 3.—After preaching again to a congregation who now appeared
ready to devour every word, I walked up to Pendennis castle, finely situated on the high
point of land which runs out between the bay and the harbor and commanding both. It
might easily be made exceedingly strong; but our wooden castles are sufficient.
In the afternoon we rode to Helstone, once turbulent enough, but now quiet as Penryn. I preached at six, on a rising ground about a musket-shot from the town. Two drunken men strove to interrupt, but one soon walked away, and the other leaned on his horse’s neck and fell fast asleep.
About noon, Friday, 5, I called on W. Row, in Breage, in my way to Newlyn. “Twelve years ago,” he said, “I was going over Gulval Downs and I saw many people together. I asked what was the matter, and they told me a man was going to preach. I said, ‘Nay, this is no mazed man.’ You preached on God’s raising the dry bones, and from that time I could never rest till God was pleased to breathe on me and raise my dead soul.”
The Journal of John Wesley
In the afternoon we rode to Helstone, once turbulent enough, but now quiet as Penryn. I preached at six, on a rising ground about a musket-shot from the town. Two drunken men strove to interrupt, but one soon walked away, and the other leaned on his horse’s neck and fell fast asleep.
About noon, Friday, 5, I called on W. Row, in Breage, in my way to Newlyn. “Twelve years ago,” he said, “I was going over Gulval Downs and I saw many people together. I asked what was the matter, and they told me a man was going to preach. I said, ‘Nay, this is no mazed man.’ You preached on God’s raising the dry bones, and from that time I could never rest till God was pleased to breathe on me and raise my dead soul.”
The Journal of John Wesley
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