Some Professors of Religion are very apt to be eccentric in their conduct. Joseph Jacobs was the leader of a set of enthusiasts in 1702, who preached to his votaries at Turners-hall: he was originally a Linen-draper. "Observator" says, his congregation were "the remnant of the tribe of Ishmael; for their hand is against every body, and every body's hand against them. By their bristles (they suffered their hair to flourish luxuriantly) one would take them to be a herd of the Gaderines swine into which the Devil has newly entered, from whom at latter Lammas we shall have great cry and little wool. They are compounded of Philadelphians, Sweet-singers, Seekers, and Muggletonians. Their system of Divinity is a hodge-podge of Jacobs' putting together, and their philosophy is that of Jacob Behmen's. If their women do not backslide from the truth, it is their native virtue keeps them steadfast; for their Pastor by trade is authorised to examine their clouts. He that has the longest whiskers amongst them is by so much the better member; but Jacobs measures their profession by the Mustachio, and not by the ell and yard, as he used to do his linen. By their look you would take them to be of the Society of Bedlam; madmen we found them, and so we leave them." This eccentric preacher died in June 1722. He retained the name of Whisker Jacobs to the day of his death. As he was singular in his life, so was he at his departure, having given orders that no mourning should be used at his interment in Bunhill-fields. Accordingly his executors gave the company white gloves and rings, but no scarfs or hatbands.