er such circumstances; but
the feeling in many parts of the circuit was so unfriendly towards me,
in consequence of the unfavorable representations of my views and habits
of thought circulated by my superintendent and his friends, that I could
not have missed an appointment with safety. I had been away five days,
when I heard that my child was worse, and likely to die. I had still one
appointment to fulfil, but I resolved, if possible, to get it postponed,
and hasten home. I went to the place and requested the leaders to allow
me to put off the appointment to the following week. They refused my
request. I told them I had received word that my child was likely to
die, and that I was anxious to be with its afflicted mother; but they
would not give way. I was sadly tried, and I said, "I shall go home
notwithstanding. If I find my child alive and likely to recover, I will
return and preach; if I do not find it better, I shall not return. I
shall stay at home and take the consequences!" I had already walked
thirteen miles. It was ten or eleven more to Blyth. I walked the whole
distance. There was no conveyance. My superintendent was allowed horse
hire; but I was not: and I could not afford to pay for a horse myself
out of sixteen dollars or three pound five a month. I reached home, and
found my child a little better. After a little rest, I started back on
foot to my appointment. My wife looked out of the window after me,
weeping, afraid to ask me to remain with her. She knew the temper of my
superintendent, and the feeling of the people, so she wept in silence. I
walked over ten miles more, and then preached. I walked altogether
thirty-three miles that day. I was very much tired; but I had seen my
wife and child, so I went through my work without complaining, and was
up very early next morning, and walked ten miles more to breakfast with
my darling wife, and to comfort her sorrowful heart. My child got well,
and all things turned out happily in the end. Still, the unkindness of
the Conference in punishing me so undeservedly, and the cruelty of my
superintendent and the Westmoor leaders, made me feel very keenly, and I
could never think of those matters without something like indignation
and horror. And all these annoyances lessened my respect for many of my
brethren, and helped to prepare the way for future troubles.

My troubles did not all come from the preachers. There were several
laymen in and about Newcastle-on-Tyne, wh