The Journal Of John Wesley

Saturday, 13. -- I preached once more at St. Just, on the first stone of their new society house. In the evening as we rode to Camborne, John Pearce, of Redruth, was mentioning a remarkable incident: While he lived at Helstone, as their class was meeting one evening, one of them cried, with an uncommon tone, "We will not stay here: we will go to -- -," a house, which was in a quite different part of the town. They all rose immediately and went, though neither they nor she knew why. Presently, after they were gone, a spark fell into a barrel of gunpowder, which was in the next room, and blew up the house. So did God preserve those who trusted in Him and prevent the blasphemy of the multitude.

Monday, 15. -- We walked an hour near the seashore [at Cubert], among those amazing caverns, which are fully as surprising as Pool's Hole, or any other in the Peak of Derbyshire. Some part of the rock in these natural vaults glitters as bright and ruddy as gold; part is a fine sky-blue; part green; part enameled, exactly like mother-of-pearl; and a great part, especially near the Holy Well (which bubbles up on the top of a rock and is famous for curing either scorbutic or scrofulous disorders), is crusted over, wherever the water runs, with a hard, white coat like alabaster.

Tuesday, 23. -- We walked up to Glastonbury Tower, which a gentleman is now repairing. It is the steeple of a church, the foundation of which is still discernible. On the west of the tower there are niches for images; one of which, as big as the life, is still entire. The hill on which it stands is extremely steep and of an uncommon height, so that it commands the country on all sides, as well as the Bristol Channel. I was weary enough when we came to Bristol; but I preached till all my complaints were gone; and I had now a little leisure to sit still and finish the Notes on the New Testament.

Wednesday, November 5. -- Mr. Whitefield called upon me. Disputings are now no more; we love one another and join hand in hand to promote the cause of our common Master.