ldry and atheism at the clamor
which was made when the gentleman was first brought in there, and
perhaps were agitated by the same devil when I took upon me to reprove
them; though I did it at first with all the calmness, temper, and good
manners that I could, which, for a while, they insulted me the more for,
thinking it had been in fear of their resentment, though afterwards they
found the contrary.[122]

These things lay upon my mind, and I went home very much grieved and
oppressed with the horror of these men's wickedness, and to think that
anything could be so vile, so hardened, and so notoriously wicked, as to
insult God, and his servants and his worship, in such a manner, and at
such a time as this was, when he had, as it were, his sword drawn in his
hand, on purpose to take vengeance, not on them only, but on the whole
nation.

I had indeed been in some passion at first with them, though it was
really raised, not by any affront they had offered me personally, but by
the horror their blaspheming tongues filled me with. However, I was
doubtful in my thoughts whether the resentment I retained was not all
upon my own private account; for they had given me a great deal of ill
language too, I mean personally: but after some pause, and having a
weight of grief upon my mind, I retired myself as soon as I came home
(for I slept not that night), and, giving God most humble thanks for my
preservation in the imminent danger I had been in, I set my mind
seriously and with the utmost earnestness to pray for those desperate
wretches, that God would pardon them, open their eyes, and effectually
humble them.

By this I not only did my duty, namely, to pray for those who
despitefully used me, but I fully tried my own heart, to my full
satisfaction that it was not filled with any spirit of resentment as
they had offended me in particular; and I humbly recommend the method to
all those that would know, or be certain, how to distinguish between
their zeal for the honor of God and the effects of their private
passions and resentment.

I remember a citizen, who, having broken out of his house in Aldersgate
Street or thereabout, went along the road to Islington. He attempted to
have gone[123] in at the Angel Inn, and after that at the White Horse,
two inns known still by the same signs, but was refused, after which he
came to the Pyed[124] Bull, an inn also still continuing the same sign.
He asked them for lodging for one night on