The Story of John Wesley Part 14

Wesley called out: "Let us cheer up, Brother Nelson, for the skin is only off one side yet."

Another time, when no one had asked them to dinner or tea, and they were riding through a country lane, feeling very hungry, Mr. Wesley stopped his horse to gather some blackberries, saying to his friend: "Brother Nelson, we ought to be thankful that there are plenty of blackberries, for this is the best country I ever saw for getting an appet.i.te, but the worst for getting food."

On the whole, however, the Cornish people were not unkind to Mr. Wesley.

At St. Ives they once gave him a very noisy welcome, shouting, "Hurrah!

hurrah!" and then going under his bedroom window and singing:

"John Wesley is come to town, To try if he can pull the churches down."

All this happened during his first visit to Cornwall; and only once during the three weeks he was there did he get really abused, and that was at St. Ives, when the mob burst into his room, and a rough, cruel man struck him on the head.

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CHAPTER x.x.x.

A fight with the sea.--Poor Peter!--A sail in a fisherman's boat.--The song that the waves accompanied.--A climb on Land's End.--Manchester disgraces itself.--Hull still worse.--Matt. v.

39.--A brave servant girl.--John Wesley declines to hide.

I TOLD you in the last chapter what a wonderful traveller Mr. Wesley was; he could walk twenty-four miles a day easily, in either hot or cold weather, and his adventures on the roads would almost fill a book.

On one of his later visits to Cornwall, he had a terrible fight with the sea; this time he was riding in a coach. He had promised to preach in St. Ives at a certain time, and the only way to get there was by crossing the sands when the tide was out. His own driver being a stranger in the country, he engaged a man named Peter Martin to drive him. When they reached the sea-sh.o.r.e they found, to their dismay, that the tide was coming in, and the sands they had to cross were already partly covered with water. Peter, the old coachman, stopped the horses, and told Mr. Wesley that it was not safe to go. Then an old sea-captain tried to prevent them, begging them to go back, or they would surely be drowned.

"No," said Mr. Wesley, "I've promised to preach at St. Ives, and I must keep my promise. Take the sea! Take the sea!" he shouted, putting his head out of the carriage window.

In a moment, Peter whipped the horses, and dashed into the waves. The wheels of the carriage kept sinking in the deep pits and hollows in the sand, while the horses, swimming in the water, snorted and reared with fright, and every moment poor Peter expected to be drowned.

Just at this terrible moment, Mr. Wesley put his head out of the carriage window; his long white hair--for he was an old man when this happened--was dripping with the salt water, which ran down his venerable face. He was calm and fearless, unmoved by the roaring of the waves or the danger of the situation.

"What is your name, driver?" he shouted.

"Peter, sir," shouted back the man.

"Peter," Mr. Wesley called out again, "fear not; thou shalt not sink."

With spurring and whipping, the poor frightened, tired horses at last brought them safely over.

When they reached St. Ives, Mr. Wesley's first care was to see to the comfort of his horses and driver. He got warm clothing, and refreshments at the inn for Peter, and comfortable stabling for his weary horses; then, quite forgetting himself, wet through with the dashing waves, he went off to the chapel to preach.

While Mr. Wesley was in Cornwall he paid a flying visit to the Scilly Isles. He went over in a fisherman's boat, and sang to the rising and falling of the waves:

"When pa.s.sing through the watery deep, I ask in faith His promised aid; The waves an awful distance keep, And shrink from my devoted head.

Fearless, their violence I dare; They cannot harm,--for G.o.d is there."

If you look in your Wesley's Hymn-Book, at hymn 272, you will find this verse.

You have all learnt, in your geographies, that Land's End is the most southern point in England; look at the very south of Cornwall, and you will find it. Mr. Wesley was very fond of this wild, rocky point, with oceans rolling on either side,--the English Channel on the one, the mighty Atlantic on the other. He paid a last visit to it when he was an old, old man, eighty years or more. With furrowed cheeks, white hair streaming in the wind, and infirm limbs, he climbed over the steep rocks to get a long, last look at his favourite spot, the meeting of the waters. I believe hymn 59 was composed by Mr. Wesley as he stood on Land's End; this is one of the verses:

"Lo! on a narrow neck of land, 'Twixt two unbounded seas I stand, Secure, insensible; A point of time, a moment's s.p.a.ce, Removes me to that heavenly place, Or shuts me up in h.e.l.l."

But we are getting on too fast, and must go back to the days when Mr.

Wesley was _not_ an old man. All his time was spent in preaching up and down the country, starting fresh societies, and encouraging old ones; and almost everywhere he and his helpers met with abuse and rough treatment.

In Manchester, which was even then a large and important town, Mr.

Wesley preached to several thousands of people in the open air. At this meeting, his hearers either got tired of listening or they took offence at what he said, for, before he had finished, they threatened to bring out the fire-engine and squirt water upon him if he did not stop.

At Hull, on his first visit in 1752, lumps of earth and stones were thrown at him while he was preaching; and when the service was over, the mob followed him, shouting, hooting, and throwing stones until he reached his lodging.

Though Mr. Wesley could be as brave as a lion when it was necessary, he could also be as gentle as a lamb. Once, when he was preaching at Dewsbury, a man rushed up to him in a terrible rage, and struck him with all his might on the side of his face. It was such a hard blow that poor Mr. Wesley could not keep the tears from coming into his eyes. Instead of striking the man back or using angry words, he just did what Christ said we should do, he turned his other cheek (Matt. v. 39). The enraged man was so surprised at such unexpected gentleness, that he turned away and hid his face with shame, and was ever after one of the Methodists'

greatest friends. Once he even risked his life to save one of their chapels from being destroyed.

Another time, when Mr. Wesley was at Falmouth in Cornwall, he called to see an invalid lady. The mob heard where he was, and surrounded the house, shrieking out: "Bring out the Canorum! Where is the Canorum?"

This was a nickname which the Cornishmen had given the Methodists. With sticks and stones the mob tried to break open the front door of the poor sick lady's house; and while they were doing this, all the people in the house escaped by the backway, except Mr. Wesley and a servant girl. The girl did not like to leave Mr. Wesley alone in this great danger, and begged him to get away and hide himself. But John Wesley was not one of the "hiding" sort. Instead of that, as soon as they had succeeded in bursting the door open, he just walked straight among the mob, exclaiming: "Here I am! What have you got to say to me? To which of you have I done any wrong?"

He made his way out into the street bare-headed, talking all the time; and before he had finished, the ringleader of the mob declared no one should touch him, he would be his protector. So he reached his lodgings in safety.

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CHAPTER x.x.xI.

Back in London.--Mr. John and Mr. Charles go visiting.--Too much for one.--Talking matters over.--The first Methodist Conference.--No time to be in a hurry.--What early rising can do.--First tract distributors.--A big district.--Boarding schools 150 years ago.--Dreadful rules.

WE have been travelling all over England with Mr. Wesley, now I think we must go back to London with him. The society there was still the largest in the country: in the year I am writing about (1744), they had one thousand nine hundred and fifty members. Mr. Wesley very much wished to visit every one of these members, and asked his brother Charles to go with him. They started their visiting at six o'clock every morning, and did not leave off till six o'clock at night.

Six o'clock a.m. seems a funny time to call and see any one, does it not? But you see people used to get up at four or five in the morning in those days, and used to go to bed at eight, so it was not really such a funny time as it seems.

Though Mr. John and Mr. Charles started so early and worked so late, it took them a long, long time to visit all those 1950 members, and when they had finished, Mr. Wesley realised for the first time how his work had grown. He saw it was impossible, even with his brother's help, to manage all the preachers and all the members scattered over the country, when even the work in London was more than he could undertake alone. He thought about this a great deal, and then he asked four clergymen and four of his helpers, or what we should call local preachers, to meet him and his brother at the Foundry, to talk things over and decide what ought to be done. These gentlemen accepted his invitation, and there, on that eventful Monday in June, 1744, the first Methodist Conference met; and from that time up to the present, no year has pa.s.sed but Methodist preachers and helpers have gathered together to make plans and talk business.

I am sure you must all have heard of the Wesleyan Methodist Conference, which is now held every July or August in some one or other of the large towns of England. This first conference was opened with solemn prayer and a sermon by Mr. Charles Wesley; then all the difficulties of the work were talked over, and arrangements made for the future. Mr. John Wesley presided, and for forty-six years after, at every conference, their beloved leader and head took the chair at this annual gathering.

You will think that what with travelling and preaching, and looking after his helpers, and visiting the members, Mr. Wesley could not find time for much else. But it is always the busiest people who have the most time. As I told you before, Mr. Wesley began his days very early, getting up at four o'clock; and by doing this every morning for sixty years, he managed not only to preach, and read, and visit, but also to write a great many books, and thousands of tracts--one of his books was called "Lessons for Children." Many of the tracts were about swearing and Sabbath-breaking, and printed on the outside were the words, "Not to be sold, but given away"; and he and his preachers used to carry them in their pockets and give them to the people they pa.s.sed on the roads.