Early in the year 1817, while I was pursuing my studies preparatory to the christian ministry, in the college at Hoxton, now removed to Highbury, I received an invitation to visit Norwich, and to preach, for a few Sabbaths, in the Tabernacle. This invitation, being sanctioned and urged upon me by the Committee of the Institution, I accepted for a period of three weeks, and I left London, by the Day Coach, on the morning of Good Friday, April 4th, 1817. It was a cold and comfortless journey; the North-east wind blew bitterly; a passenger on the coach filled me with anxiety and alarm by his account of the state of things in the Tabernacle; and a few miles before we reached the city, we were informed that, just as the Packet was starting to Yarmouth that morning, the boiler had burst, and eleven of the passengers had been frightfully mangled and destroyed. On arriving at the city, I went, as I had been directed, to the Tabernacle house, where Mr. Phillips, the aged minister, resided, and where I expected to lodge. The good old man and all his household had gone to bed; and when, after loud and long knocking at the door, I awoke him from sleep, and told him my name and my object in coming, he replied, “I really don’t know you, Sir,” and instantly shut down the window. This reception, or rather rejection, though afterwards in some measure explained and apologized for, was sufficiently discouraging; but as it was impossible to return to London that night, I determined to sleep at the Inn, and to wait for the disclosures of the morrow. I was then introduced to a few of the people, who received me kindly. The good old minister, too, interested and amused me by his lively and picturesque descriptions of his ministerial life; and I began to think that perhaps I might remain till the three weeks had expired. On the first Sunday evening, I preached a sermon in reference to the Steam Packet catastrophe, which had happened on the Friday. The text was Matthew xxiv, 44: “Therefore be ye also ready; for in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometh.” The place was crowded. The Lord himself stood by me and strengthened me. The congregation listened with impressive silence and attention. Many minds seemed to be deeply affected; and I left the pulpit that night, thanking God, and taking courage. On the two following Sabbaths, the congregations were equally large; and when they were over, I returned to London, partly to pursue my studies, and partly to prepare an oration on the subject of Ancient Heathenism, which I had been appointed to deliver at the anniversary of the college; but, before I left, I promised to return, and to preach during the whole of the Midsummer vacation.