Wednesday, 17.--The room at St. Just was quite full at five, and God gave us a parting blessing. At noon I preached on the cliff near Penzance, where no one now gives an uncivil word. Here I procured an account, from an eyewitness, of what happened the twenty-seventh of last month. A round pillar, narrowest at bottom, of a whitish color, rose out of the sea near Mousehole and reached the clouds. One who was riding over the strand from Marazion to Penzance saw it stand for a short space and then move swiftly toward her, till the skirt of it touching her, the horse threw her and ran away. It had a strong sulphurous smell. It dragged with it abundance of sand and pebbles from the shore; and then went over the land, carrying with it corn, furze, or whatever it found in its way. It was doubtless a kind of waterspout; but a waterspout on land, I believe, is seldom seen.
Friday, 19.--I rode to Illogan. We had heavy rain before I began, but scarcely any while I was preaching. I learned several other particulars here concerning the waterspout. It was seen near Mousehole an hour before sunset. About sunset it began traveling over the land, tearing up all the furze and shrubs it met. Nearly an hour after sunset it passed (at the rate of four or five miles an hour) across Mr. Harris's fields, in Camborne, sweeping the ground as it went, about twenty yards in diameter at bottom, and broader and broader up to the clouds. It made a noise like thunder, took up eighteen stacks of corn, with a large haystack and the stones whereon it stood, scattered them abroad (but it was quite dry), and then passed over the cliff into the sea.
Saturday, 20.--In the evening I took my old stand in the main street in Redruth. A multitude of people, rich and poor, calmly attended. So is the roughest become one of the quietest towns in England.
Sunday, 21.--I preached in the same place at eight. Mr. C--p of St. Cubert, preached at the church both morning and afternoon and strongly confirmed what I had spoken. At one, the day being mild and calm, we had the largest congregation of all. But it rained all the time I was preaching at Gwennap. We concluded the day with a love-feast, at which James Roberts, a tinner of St. Ives, related how God had dealt with his soul.
He was one of the first in the society in St. Ives, but soon relapsed into his old sin, drunkenness, and wallowed in it for two years, during which time he headed the mob who pulled down the preaching-house. Not long after, he was standing with his partner at Edward May's shop when the preacher went by. His partner said, "I will tell him I am a Methodist." "Nay," said Edward, "your speech will betray you." James felt the word as a sword, thinking in himself, "So does my speech now betray mel" He turned and hastened home, fancying he heard the devil stepping after him all the way. For forty hours he never closed his eyes or tasted either meat or drink. He was then at his wit's end and went to the window, looking to drop into hell instantly, when he heard those words, "I will be merciful to thy unrighteousness, thy sins and iniquities will I remember no more" [see Heb. 8:12]. All his load was gone; and he has now for many years walked worthy of the gospel.
Wednesday, October 22.--Being informed that some neighboring gentlemen had declared they would apprehend the next preacher who came to Pensford, I rode over to give them the meeting; but none appeared. The house was more than filled with deeply attentive hearers. It seems the time is come at length for the Word of God to take root here also.
Friday, 24--l visited the French prisoners at Knowle and found many of them almost naked again. In hopes of provoking others to jealousy, I made another collection for them and ordered the money to be laid out in linen and waistcoats, which were given to those that were most in want.
Saturday, 25.--King George was gathered to his fathers. When will England have a better Prince?
Many of us agreed to observe Friday, 31, as a day of fasting and prayer for the blessing of God upon our nation, and in particular on his present Majesty. We met at five, at nine, at one, and at half-past eight. I expected to be a little tired, but was more lively after twelve at night than I was at six in the morning.