The Story of John Wesley Part 1

The Story of John Wesley.

by Marianne Kirlew.

PREFACE.

THE Story of John Wesley is one of which the world does not easily weary. There is perennial freshness in it. "Age cannot wither it." We may indeed almost affirm that it has an "infinite variety."

It is specially important that this remarkable history should be re-told for young people. The youth of England ought to be fully conversant with John Wesley's unique personality and immortal work.

John Wesley's name is far above mere denominationalism. He belongs to all the churches, for he belongs to the "Holy Catholic Church." He is a great national and historic figure. It has ever been claimed by some, whose authority is high, that John Wesley was the saviour of modern England. Surely there is large truth in this. The great religious leader was indeed one of the most potent political forces England has known. If there be even an approximation towards fact in such a claim, then how important for young England to know the record of a man so supremely distinguished.

Certainly, on any ground, these pages meet a distinct want; and I think it will be the judgment of readers, that they meet it admirably well.

Here John Wesley's life is traced clearly, even to the point of vividness. The style in which the story is told, will be found to add to the intrinsic interest of the recital.

The author of this life of Wesley is thoroughly imbued with the spirit of her subject, nor does she forget to apply the lessons, with which this wonderful life-story is crowded.

If the _children_ of our land could be fired with enthusiasm for the truths John Wesley taught and lived, what a blessed outlook would there be for England!

We earnestly pray, that many a young reader may be stirred to the very depths of his being, by the narration here so attractively given. "'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."

DINSDALE T. YOUNG.

_Manchester, June, 1895._

THE STORY OF JOHN WESLEY.

CHAPTER I.

Jacky.--His brothers and sisters.--His cottage home.--What happened to the little pet-dog.--How Jacky's father forgave the wicked men of Epworth.--"Fire! Fire!"

LONG, long ago, more than one hundred and fifty years, lived the hero of this book. Because his name was John, everybody called him Jack or Jacky; and by everybody I mean his dear, good father and mother, and his eighteen brothers and sisters. Eighteen, did I say? Yes, indeed, they counted eighteen; and seeing there were so many, I will not trouble you with all their names. I will just tell you three. Samuel was the eldest, he was the "big brother"; Jacky was number fifteen, and Kitty and Charlie came after him.

But Jacky did not mind all this houseful, I think he rather liked it, for you see he always had plenty of playmates. His home was in a country village called Epworth, in Lincolnshire. If you look on your map I think you will find it. The house was like a big cottage; the roof had no slates on like ours, but was thatched with straw, the same as some of the cottages you have seen in the country; and the windows had tiny panes of gla.s.s, diamond-shaped, and they opened like little doors. The walls of the cottage were covered with pretty climbing plants, and what was best of all, there was a beautiful big garden where apple and pear trees grew, and where there was lots of room for Jacky and Charlie and the others to run about and play "hide and seek."

But I must tell you that a great many wicked people lived at Epworth, and Jack's father, who was a minister, tried to teach them how wrong it was to steal and fight, and do so many cruel things. But his preaching only made them very angry with good Mr. Wesley, and one of the men, out of spite, cut off the legs of his little pet-dog. Was not that a dreadfully cruel thing to do?

But Jack's father, because he loved Jesus so much, loved these wicked men, and always forgave them. He knew if he could get _them_ to love Jesus, they would soon stop being cruel and unkind.

One night in winter, when everybody was fast asleep, Kitty woke up feeling something very hot on her feet. Opening her eyes she was dreadfully frightened to see the bedroom ceiling all on fire. She was only a very little girl, but she jumped out of bed, and ran to the room where her mother and two of her sisters were sleeping. Her father, who was in another room, hearing a great noise outside, and people calling "Fire! Fire!" jumped up and found it was his own house that was in flames. Telling the elder girls to be quick and get dressed and to help their mother, who was very ill, he ran to the nursery, and burst open the door. "Nurse, nurse!" he shouted, "be quick and get the children up, the house is on fire."

s.n.a.t.c.hing up baby Charles in her arms, and calling to the other children to follow her, the nurse hurried down-stairs. But there they found the hall full of flames and smoke, and to get out of the front-door was impossible. So some of the children got through the windows and some through the back-door into the garden.

Just as the minister thought he had all his family safe, he heard a cry coming from the nursery, and on looking round, he found Jacky was missing. He rushed into the burning house, and tried to get up the stairs, but they were all on fire. What should he do? He didn't know. So he just knelt down in the hall surrounded by the dreadful flames, and asked G.o.d to take care of little Jack, and if he couldn't be saved to take him to heaven.

Now I must tell you how it was Jack was still in the burning house. He had been fast asleep when the nurse called, and did not hear her and the other children go out of the room. All at once he woke up, and seeing a bright light in the room, thought it was morning. "Nursie, nursie!" he called, "take me up; I want to get up." Of course there was no answer.

Then he put his head out of the curtains which surrounded his little bed, and saw streaks of fire on the top of the room. Oh, how frightened he was!

Jacky was only five years old, but he was a brave boy, and instead of lying still and screaming and crying, he jumped up and ran to the door in his night-gown. But the floor and the stairs were all on fire. What should he do? He ran back again into the room, and climbed on a big box that stood near the window. Then some one in the yard saw him and shouted: "Fetch a ladder, quick! I see him."

"There's no time," called out somebody else; "the roof is falling in.

Look here!" said the same man, "I'll stand against this wall, and let a man that's not very heavy stand on my shoulders, and then we can reach the child."

So the strong man fixed himself against the wall, and another man climbed on his shoulders, and Jacky put out his arms as far as he could, and the man lifted him out of the burning room, and he was safe. Two minutes afterwards the roof fell in with a big crash.

Jack was carried into a neighbour's house, and they all knelt down while the minister thanked G.o.d for taking care of them, and so wonderfully preserving all their lives.

Jack never forgot that terrible night, and all his life afterwards he felt that G.o.d had saved him from being burnt to death, in order that he might do a great deal of work for Him.

You will not be surprised to hear, that it was the wicked people in Epworth who had set the minister's house on fire. But as Jesus forgave His enemies, so Mr. Wesley forgave these men, and tried more than ever to show them how much Christ loved them.

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CHAPTER II.

Jacky learns his A B C.--A wise mother.--Christ's little soldier.--A chatterbox.--The big brother and the little one.--Jacky poorly.--The bravest of the brave.--A proud father.

JACK'S father and mother were not rich people, and they could not afford to send all their children to school, so Mrs. Wesley taught them at home, and as there were so many of them it was almost like a proper school. When Jacky was five years old, he became a little scholar. The first day he learnt his alphabet, and in three months could read quite nicely.

Mrs. Wesley was a dear, kind mother, and took a great deal of trouble, and often put herself to much pain to train her little boys to be Christian gentlemen, and her little girls to be Christian ladies. As soon as they could speak, they were taught to say their prayers every night and morning, and to keep the Sabbath day holy. They were never allowed to have anything they cried for, and they were always taught to speak kindly and politely to the servants. Bad words were never heard among them, and no loud talking or rough play was allowed. This wise mother also knew that little people are sometimes tempted to tell untruths to hide a fault for fear of punishment, so she made it a rule that if any of the children did what was naughty, and at once confessed and promised not to do it again, they should not be whipped.

One of the little boys--I'm afraid it was Jacky--did not always follow this rule, and so he sometimes got what he did not like. But Mrs. Wesley never allowed her children to taunt one another with a fault, especially when they were trying to do better.

Another thing the children were taught, was to respect the rights of property; that is, if Jacky wanted Charlie's top, he was not to take it without Charlie's leave; and if Emily wanted Sukey's brooch, she must ask her sister's permission before taking it.

"Oh, how dreadfully strict!" I fancy I hear some of my readers say. Not at all, dears, it was a mother's kindness to her children; for it took far more time, and a great deal more trouble to teach them all these things than it would have done to let them do as they liked. And when Emily and Mollie and Jack and Charlie and all the others grew up to be men and women, they thanked G.o.d for giving them such a wise mother.

Once a week Mrs. Wesley used to take each of the children into her room, separately, for a quiet little talk. They each had their own day for having mother _all to themselves_. Jack had every Thursday, and Sat.u.r.day was Charlie's day. So helpful were these little talks with mother, that years afterwards when Jack had left home, he wrote and asked his mother if she would spare the same time every Thursday to pray for him.

Before Jacky was eight years old he loved Jesus so much that he wanted every one to know he meant to be one of His faithful soldiers. So he asked his father if he might go to the communion, which, you know, is doing what Christ asked all His followers to do, taking bread and drinking wine "_in remembrance of Him_." Though Jack was such a little boy, his father knew, by his conduct, that he meant what he said, and so he admitted him to the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. I wish all my young readers could say, as Jacky could:--

"I am a little soldier, I'm only eight years old, I mean to fight for Jesus And wear a crown of gold.

I know He'll make me happy, And help me every day, I'll be His little soldier, The Bible says I may."