The church at Vaux was levelled with the ground; most of the Protestant places of worship in our province had shared the same fate. My neighbors could not get to any church without difficulty and extreme fatigue, and I felt compassion for them, as sheep without a shepherd, and considered it my duty to invite them to join me in my family devotions. They came most gladly, and the number increased until it reached one hundred and fifty. I then recommended them not to come daily, as they were in the habit of doing, but to come two or three times a week, which would give me more time to make suitable preparation for preaching and expounding the Scriptures to them. I also suggested to them that each family should only come once a week, and thus our meetings, being less numerous, would be less likely to attract attention, and yet each would have their turn. I frequently changed our days of assembling, giving previous notice to the people, with the view of escaping observation, and we continued this endearing intercourse without interruption, during the whole winter. All who joined in these religious exercises were known to me and to each other, and we were all equally interested in keeping the secret. My house stood entirely alone, which was a circumstance much in our favor.
At length, however, a rumor got abroad that meetings were held in our parish, and that I was the preacher. We had no traitor in our ranks, and all things were conducted so quietly that the Papists were unable to discover any thing, with sufficient certainty, to found action upon it. Some of my friends, with more of policy than of piety, recommended me to cease before we were discovered, but I believed I was in the path of duty, and therefore I did not hearken to their counsel, but persevered in leading the services.
