1754. Tuesday, January 1.—I returned once more to London.
On Wednesday, 2, I set out in the machine and the next afternoon came to Chippenham. Here I took a post chaise, in which I reached Bristol about eight in the evening.
Friday, 4.—I began drinking the water at the Hot Well, having a lodging at a small distance from it; and on Sunday, 6, I began writing Notes on the New Testament, a work which I should scarcely ever have attempted had I not been so ill as not to be able to travel or preach, and yet so well as to be able to read and write.
Monday, 7.—I went on now in a regular method, rising at my hour and writing from five to nine at night; except the time of riding, half an hour for each meal, and the hour between five and six in the evening.
Thursday, 31.—My wife desiring to pay the last office to her poor dying child, set out for London and came a few days before he went home, rejoicing and praising God.
Tuesday, March 19 (Bristol).—Having finished the rough draught, I began transcribing the Notes on the Gospels.
Tuesday, 26.—I preached for the first time, after an intermission of four months. What reason have I to praise God that He does not take the Word of His truth utterly out of my mouth!
Wesley Retires to Paddington
Monday, April 1.—We set out in the machine, and the next evening reached the Foundry.
Wednesday, 3.—I settled all the business I could and the next morning retired to Paddington. Here I spent some weeks in writing; only going to town on Saturday evenings, and leaving it again on Monday morning.
In my hours of walking I read Dr. Calamy’s Abridgment of Mr. Baxter’s Life. What a scene is opened here! In spite of all the prejudice of education, I could not but see that the poor Nonconformists had been used without either justice or mercy; and that many of the Protesant 20 bishops of King Charles had neither more religion nor humanity than the popish Bishops of Queen Mary.
Monday, 29.—I preached at Sadler’s Wells in what was formerly a playhouse. I am glad when it pleases God to take possession of what Satan esteemed his own ground. The place, though large, was extremely crowded; and deep attention sat on every face.
Wednesday, May 22.—Our conference began; and the spirit of peace and love was in the midst of us. Before we parted, we all willingly signed an agreement not to act independently of each other: so that the breach lately made has only united us more closely together than ever.
June 2.—(Being Whitsunday.) I preached at the Foundry, which I had not done before in the evening; still I have not recovered my whole voice or strength, perhaps I never may; but let me use what I have.
Persecuting the Methodists
Monday, September 9.—I preached at Charlton, a village six miles from Taunton, to a large congregation gathered from the towns and country for many miles round. All the farmers here had some time before entered into a joint engagement to turn all out of their service and give no work to any who went to hear a Methodist preacher. But there is no counsel against the Lord. One of the chief of them, Mr. G---, was not long after convinced of the truth and desired those very men to preach at his house. Many of the other confederates came to hear, whom their servants and laborers gladly followed. So the whole device of Satan fell to the ground; and the Word of God grew and prevailed.
Wednesday, October 2.—I walked to Sold Sarum, which, in spite of common sense, without house or inhabitants, still sends two Members to the Parliament. It is a large, round hill, encompassed with a broad ditch, which, it seems, has been of a considerable depth. At the top of it is a cornfield; in the midst of which is another round hill, about two hundred yards in diameter, encompassed with a wall and a deep ditch. Probably before the invention of cannon, this city was impregnable. Troy was; but now it is vanished away and nothing left but “the stones of emptiness.”
Thursday, 3.—I rode to Reading and preached in the evening. Observing a warm man near the door (he was once of the society), I purposely bowed to him; but he made no return. During the first prayer he stood, but sat while we sang. In the sermon his countenance changed, and in a little while he turned his face to the wall. He stood at the second hymn and then kneeled down. As I came out he caught me by the hand and dismissed me with a hearty blessing.
Friday, 4.—I came to London. On Monday, 7, I retired to a little place near Hackney, formerly a seat of Bishop Bonner’s (how are the times changed!) and still bearing his name. Here I was as in a college.
Twice a day we joined in prayer. The rest of the day (allowing about an hour for meals and another for walking before dinner and supper) I spent quietly in my study.