He was the preacher who, in Ireland, discoursed from the text, "Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes," which gave occasion for the Methodists in that country to be called "_Swaddlers_." The parents of this excellent man were Quakers, who had been imprisoned in Reading jail for the maintenance of their religious principles. This persecution reduced them from respectability to want, so that, like John Bunyan, they were forced to make shoe-laces in prison for their support. The conversion of the son was very remarkable. His first deep and lasting religious convictions flashed upon his mind like lightning from heaven, while walking in the crowds of Cheapside, in London. The effects were soon manifested; he became a new man, pursuing a new course, and entering on a new work. His ministry was very efficient, his views of truth were evangelical, his public speaking popular, his zeal so great as sometimes to lead him to preach six times in one day--all which labors were followed with abundant success. Mr. Cennick was rather below the middle stature, of a fair countenance, and though by no means robust in health, he knew little of timidity. The spirit in which he discharged his ministry may be seen in a letter he wrote to a friend: "We sang a hymn, and then the devil led on his servants; they began beating a drum, and then made fires of gunpowder: at first the poor flock was startled; but while God gave me power to speak encouragingly to them, they waxed bolder, and very few moved. The mob then fired guns over the people's heads, and began to play a water engine upon brother Harris and myself, till we were wet through. They also played an engine upon us with hog's-wash and grounds of beer-barrels, and covered us with muddy water from a ditch; they pelted us with eggs and stones, threw baskets of dust over us, and fired their guns so close to us that our faces were black with the powder; but, in nothing terrified, we remained praying. I think I never saw or felt so great a power of God as was there. In the midst of the confused multitude, I saw a man laboring above measure, earnest to fill the buckets with water to throw upon us. I asked him, 'What harm do we do? Why are you so furious against us? We only come to tell you that Christ loved you, and died for you.' He stepped back a little for room, and threw a bucket of water in my face. When I had recovered myself, I said, 'My dear man, if God should so pour his wrath upon you, what would become of you? Yet I tell you that Christ loves you.' He threw away the bucket, let fall his trembling hands, and looked as pale as death; he then shook hands with me, and parted from me, I believe under strong convictions." Mr. Cennick had heretofore labored with Whitefield and Wesley, but now adhered to the former, and labored very successfully in the Tabernacle. After some years he united with the Moravian brethren, and died in triumph at thirty-five.