He observed, “Now you see I can read as well to you without the book as others can with the book. I can read you almost all of any other chapter in the Bible you will name, either in the Old or New Testament, it makes not much difference; in the dark as well as in the light. My wife is a good little woman; she would get the Bible on Sunday, and say to me, ‘Henry, come sit down and hear me read the Bible’; but I would laugh, and tell her I could read better without the book than she could with it, and go out and look after my horse, or do anything on Sundays. I have been a bad fellow; when I was in England I gave all my attention to reading my Bible, and became a great Methodist, and went to all the Methodist meetings, and would pray and exhort amongst them, and finally became a preacher and preached in Brighton, Northampton, Southampton, and in London; and great numbers came to hear me. I was sometimes astonished to see how many followed to hear me preach the Scriptures, when I knew they were deceived. But I did not follow preaching long in London.” He went on to state his reasons for giving up preaching, or rather the reasons that prevented his continuing to preach. He had given himself up to the company of lewd women, and had contracted the disease common to such associations. A course like this could not remain long concealed, and the issue was that he was prevented from preaching, and was eventually obliged to leave England, and come to this country. He went on to say—“I have been a bad young man. I am young now, only twenty-three years of age—not twenty-four yet”; and did not know but he would preach again; he could easily find converts; many would like to hear him preach. When he was a preacher he was spiritually minded, and all was peace and heaven to him; but ever since all was trouble, and misery to him. He never intended to leave this place; he was contented and willing to stay here until he died; he was better off here than anywhere else, and never wished to go into the world again unless he was a preacher. After hearing him talk in this manner for some time, I left him till the next day at noon, when I went to the gaol again, and gave him a good dinner, and read his pardon to him. When he saw the paper, he said, “That looks like the paper which I dreamed I saw, with two angels and a ship on it, with something that looked like snakes.” When I read his pardon he paid not the least attention to the nature of it, but asked questions as foreign to the nature of the subject as possible; only he said he wished I would give him that paper; he dreamed it was coming. I told him as soon as I would get him some clothes made, I would give him the paper; and that I would help him away with his show in a box, and that he might not be driven to the necessity of stealing; and in the evening I went with a tailor to take his measure for a coat.