About noon Mr. Shepherd and I reached St. Ives. After a few hours’ rest, we rode to Gwennap. Finding the house would not contain one fourth of the people, I stood before the door. I was reading my text when a man came, raging as if he had just broken out of the tombs; and, riding into the thickest of the people, seized three or four, one after another, none lifting up a hand against him. A second (gentleman, so called) soon came after, if possible more furious than he, and ordered his men to seize on some others, Mr. Shepherd in particular. Most of the people, however, stood still as they were before and began singing a hymn. Upon this Mr. B. lost all patience and cried out with all his might, “Seize him, seize him. I say, seize the preacher for his Majesty’s service.” But no one stirring, he rode up and struck several of his attendants, cursing them bitterly for not doing as they were bidden. Perceiving still that they would not move, he leaped off his horse, swore he would do it himself, and caught hold of my cassock crying, “I take you to serve his Majesty.” A servant taking his horse, he took me by the arm, and we walked arm in arm for about three quarters of a mile. << less