See what a chainge was here taken place; a little while before labouring in the fields with the poor negroes, and used like a slave, and looked upon with contempt on the greatest part of my passage home; so now I had nothing to do with the world, all things was provided for me, so that in a little time the congregation begin to increase greately, and prayer meetings set on in many defrant places; so, as far as I can remember, in the course of eight or nine weeks there was a great number of men, women, and children converted. Our meeting seem to be all in confusion, sume praying, sume singing, sume crying, sume praising and blessing of God. We have staid in the house sume times from twelve until three o'clock in the morning. My heart at that time, with every powar of my soul, was fully engaged in the work; one time in particular, I trust I shall never for get it, in prayer in the after meeting, I think Mr. Wacktings was the preacher, whether in the body or out of the body I could harely tell. It was just the same as it was in New York, and car'd on in the same manner. At the first sume of the old members would not owned it to be of God, as it was so much out of the comman way, wilst many others put their shoulders to the work, and, praise be to God, aboute this time I do remember my soul through mercy was got just in the same tune as it was in New York. I declard at that time to sevral old members consarning my thoughts. Sume would give me great incoregement, wilst other would try to drive me back. I mentioned this, if ever this should be published, which in all probability it will not, for thou, my young Reader, to take care who to declare thy mind to, for it is not evry old prefessor that knoweth moste of the things of God, but in the genral him who's soul is most alive to God. So as I was but as a babe in the way, I still wanted to be teached in the ways of God, and I fell in company with John Bettens, to whom I opened my mind freely. I have thought many times since I never found such faith, no, not in all the men I ever talked with. Well, then, I was not confined to Trevean house only, but I went aboute all through the country. But no place where I was asked where the housen was not full of people, and sume would not contain all the people. Shorley I was a wonder to myself, and in genral I found great freedom to speak to the people in my simple way. I remember once I went about eight or nine miles from home, and as I came to the door where I was expected, a young man came out and said, "Are you Captain Harry Carter?" I answered, "My name is Henry Carter." He said, "We have been expecting of you, for it is given out for you to preach to-night." When I heard of the name preach, I was struck with such fear and trembling, I could not tel whether it was best to return home again or stay there. So I went in, and the good man received me very kindly, and when the time came took me to the chaple, where it was so full the people could harley stand. Sume that know nothing of preaching caled it preaching, but I never presumed to take a text, but laid a little foundation as a text in disguise, so that I had room to ramble. But it was not for what I could say only that the housen was so full of people, but it was like the Jews of old, came not to see Jesus only, but Lazreth[58] also. Where I was not known before, they heard of me, and they believed that there was a great chainge upon me. I think the people believed I was really what I professed to be, but many times after I had been speaking, so dejected in my own mind, wishing that I may stand up no more, for it was seldam a day passed but what I had doubts whether I was cal'd or not, and I was much afraid to run before I was sent. And likewayse the cross was so great, I have often[59] thought if the people knew what I suffered, they never would ask me to exercise in that way at all. Oh, how I did tremble and sweat just as the time were come. Well, then, still the work of God continued to go on in Trevean society, and lively meetings all through this neighberhood.
Language Review
The Autobiography of a Cornish Smuggler — Part 22
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