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Waiting for the Irish Boat

Saturday, 24.--We set out at five, and at six came to the sands. But the tide was in, so that we could not pass: so I sat down in a little cottage for three or four hours and translated Aldrich's Logic. About ten we passed, and before five came to Baldon Ferry, and found the boat ready for us; but the boatmen desired us to stay a while, saying, the wind was too high and the tide too strong. The secret was that they stayed for more passengers; and it was well they did: for while we were walking to and fro, Mr. Jenkin Morgan came; at whose house, nearly halfway between the ferry and Holyhead, I had lodged three years before.  The night soon came on, but our guide, knowing all the country, brought us safe to his own door.

Sunday, 25.--I preached at Howell Thomas', in Trefollwin parish, to a small, earnest congregation.

The wind being contrary I accepted the invitation of an honest exciseman (Mr. Holloway) to stay at his house till it should change. Here I was in a little, quiet, solitary spot, where no human voice was heard but those of the family. On Tuesday I desired Mr. Hopper to ride over to Holyhead and inquire concerning our passage. He brought word that we might probably pass in a day or two; so on Wednesday we both went thither. Here we overtook John Jane, who had set out on foot from Bristol with three shillings in his pocket. Six nights out of the seven since he set out, he had been entertained by utter strangers. He went by us we could not tell how, and reached Holyhead on Sunday, with one penny left.

By him we sent back our horses to Mr. Morgan's. I had a large congregation in the evening. It almost grieved me that I could give them but one sermon, now they were at length willing to hear. About eleven we were called to go on board, the wind being quite fair; and so it continued till we were just out of the harbor. It then turned west and blew a storm. There was neither moon nor stars, but rain and wind enough, so that I was soon tired of staying on deck. But we met another storm below: for who should be there but the famous Mr. Gr---, of Carnarvonshire a clumsy, overgrown, hard-faced man; his countenance I could only compare to that (which I saw in Drury Lane thirty years ago) of one of the ruffians in Macbeth. I was going to lie down when he tumbled in and poured out such a volley of ribaldry, obscenity, and blasphemy, every second or third word being an oath, as was scarcely ever heard at Billingsgate. Finding there was no room for me to speak, I retired into my cabin and left him to Mr. Hopper. Soon after, one or two of his own company interposed and carried him back to his cabin.

Thursday, 29.--We wrought our way four or five leagues toward Ireland, but were driven back in the afternoon to the very mouth of the harbor. Nevertheless, the wind shifting one or two points, we ventured out again; and by midnight we had gotten about half seas over. But the wind then turning full against us and blowing hard, we were driven back again and were glad, about nine, to get into the bay once more.

In the evening I was surprised to see, instead of some poor, plain people, a. room full of men, daubed with gold and silver. That I might not go out of their depth, I began expounding the story of Dives and Lazarus. It was more applicable than I was aware, several of them (as I afterward learned) being eminently wicked men. I delivered my own soul; but they could in nowise bear it. One and another walked away, murmuring sorely.  Four stayed till I drew to a close; they then put on their hats and began talking          to one another. I mildly reproved them, on which they rose up and went away, railing and blaspheming. I had then a comfortable hour with a company of plain, honest Welshmen.

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