Some raged, some wept,
and some embraced me with unspeakable tenderness; while some wished me
dead, and said it had been better for me if I had never been born.
One man, a person of considerable influence, who had encouraged me in my
movements, and joined me in lamenting the shortcomings of the Connexion,
and in condemning the conduct of my opponents, no sooner saw that I was
doomed, than he sent me a most unfeeling letter. I met the postman and
got the letter in the street, and read it as I walked along. It pained
me terribly, but it comforted me to think that it had not fallen into
the hands of my delicate and sensitive wife. That no other eye might see
it, and no other soul be afflicted with the treachery and cruelty of the
writer, I tore it in pieces, and threw it into the Tyne, and kept the
matter a secret from those whose souls it might have shocked too rudely
for endurance.
Another man, who had said to me a short time before my expulsion, that
whoever else might close their doors against me, his would always be
open, proved as faithless as the basest. I called one day at his shop.
As soon as he saw me, he turned away his eyes, and stood motionless and
speechless behind the counter, as if agitated with painful and
unutterable passion.
Pages:
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286