There being no further capacity of service in those parts, Mr. Baxter for some time preached up and down occasionally in the city, and at length was fixed a lecturer with Dr. Bates at St. Dunstan's in Fleet Street; and obtained Bishop Sheldon's licence, upon his subscribing a promise, not to preach against the doctrine of the church, or the ceremonies, in his diocess, as long as he used his licence. Here he had a crowded auditory; and the crowd unhappily drove him from his place of preaching. One day in the midst of sermon a little lime dust fell down in the belfry, which made people think the steeple and church were falling. All were presently in a confused haste to get away, and the noise of the feet in the galleries sounded like the fall of the stones. Some cast themselves from the galleries, because they could not get down-stairs; and the terror was universal: all made such haste to get out that they hindered one another. Mr. Baxter, when the hurry was a little over, with great presence of mind reassumed his discourse, with this remarkable passage, to compose the spirits of the people. "We are" (said he) "in the service of God, to prepare ourselves, that we may be fearless at the great noise of the dissolving world, when the heavens shall pass away, and the elements melt in fervent heat; the earth also and the works therein shall be burned up," &c. And when he had gone on a little while, a bench near the communion table breaking under the weight of those that stood upon it, renewed the fear and hurry, and made it rather worse than before. He was forced to preach the rest of his quarter at St. Bride's church, while St. Dunstan's was repairing. He preached also once every Lord's day at Black-friars, gratis; and a week-day lecture in Milk Street.