We sang heartily, and after prayer, I felt a little more at home than I had done on the previous evening’; but it was not up to Cornwall yet!  In my address I had liberty and power to hold the people, and we had some conversions that evening, and the following one also.  My mason friend was greatly cheered and revived, and from this time began reaching himself, carrying on meetings in various cottages and farm places.

From there I went on into Dorsetshire, and arrived at the vicarage to which I was going, rather late on Saturday night, very tired; so much so, that I was glad to go to bed as soon as possible.  On Sunday morning I went to church and preached to a large congregation, the words which God gave me.  On coming out, the vicar’s wife said, “If I had sat up all night telling you about the people, you could not have preached more appropriately; indeed, I am sure that some of them will think that I told you what to say.”

It was so, for this same lady was charged with telling me to put before some of the congregation things which her husband dared not!  In the evening the church was crammed to excess, and the people were most attentive and eager.  Some of them could scarcely restrain their feelings, so powerfully did the Word come home to them.  At the conclusion of the service, I announced that I had come there to preach every night for the week, and would visit them during the day.  Accordingly in the morning I called at several cottages, in one of which King George the Third used to attend a prayer-meeting with the country people.

In the afternoon I went to the convict prison at Portland.  It was sad to look upon the prisoners clanking about in their chains, many of whom were employed in making a road to the sea.  I could not help saying to the chaplain, who was walking with me, “What a picture is that!  It is exactly how Satan employs unbelievers to make their own road to hell.  As such, they are condemned already, because they do not believe in Christ; and for the same reason, their sins not being pardoned, they are bound in chains.”

“Well,” said the chaplain drily, “that seems all clear and scriptural.  Would you like to speak to them?”

“Yes,” I said, “I should.”

He then made a sign to the warder, who commanded that the convicts should give attention, and the order was at once obeyed.

Standing on the bank, I spoke to them as they were assembled before me; but instead of telling them of the devil and chains, as the chaplain expected, I spoke of God’s love to sinners, and said that “chastisement and sorrows were not sent in anger, but in kindness.  God is angry when the wicked are allowed to go on unpunished; but when punished in this world, it is not for expiation of sin (for only the blood of Jesus can do that), but for the purpose of awakening and humbling the transgressor, that he may with contrite heart return to the Lord, who alone is able to deliver us from sin and from Satan’s power.  ’It is good,’ said the Psalmist, ’that I have been afflicted:  before I was afflicted I went astray, but now have I kept Thy word.’”