Even this was not all. He says, "One that got some hundreds of pounds by my sermons, refused to print for me any more. And others wrote to me, that God would destroy me in a fortnight, and that my fall was as great as Peter's." Still other sorrows attended him. He writes, "I was much embarrassed in my outward circumstances. A thousand pounds I owed for the orphan-house. Two hundred and fifty pounds drawn on Mr. Seward, [who was now dead,] were returned upon me. I was also threatened to be arrested for two hundred pounds more." Besides all this, he had "a family of one hundred persons to be maintained, four thousand miles off, in the dearest part of his majesty's dominions." He now began to preach in Moorfields on week-days, under one of the trees; where he saw numbers of his spiritual children running by him without looking at him, and some of them putting their fingers in their ears, that they might not hear one word he said. "A like scene," he says, "opened at Bristol, where I was denied preaching in the house I had founded." It was the Kingswood school-house, built for the children of the colliers. But Whitefield could not long be kept down. His friends built a new house and opened a new school at Kingswood. Some "free-grace dissenters," as Gillies calls them, procured the loan of a building lot in London, on which, as we have already seen, they built the Tabernacle. Here his congregations immediately increased, and he addressed them with his usual power and success. Invitations soon poured in from the country, and even from places where he had never been. At a common near Braintree, in Essex, he had more than ten thousand hearers, and at many other places congregations were large and much affected. "Sweet," says he, "was the conversation which I had with several ministers of Christ." Soon again did he triumph, even in England.