The Story of John Wesley Part 17

But see, there is another coming! It is the inside of a chapel, and people are everywhere; in the galleries, in the aisles, in the communion rails, everywhere. On the pulpit-stairs some one has found room for a little child. Why, it is Daniel, and there is the kind clergyman standing near. See, the preacher has finished, and is coming down from the pulpit, he is lifting up the little child and is kissing him. Now, he has pa.s.sed into the vestry, and the picture has gone. That, my young Oldham readers, was the opening of Manchester St. Chapel on Good Friday, 1790, when Mr. Wesley was nearly ninety years old.

At Hull, Birmingham, Wednesbury, Chester, Manchester, Liverpool, all places where the Methodists had been most cruelly treated, Mr. Wesley and his followers were now most kindly welcomed. You remember how Mr.

Wesley and his brother had been shut out of the churches, very few clergymen allowing them to preach in their pulpits. This, too, was all changed.

Those of you who live in Hull will like to know that John Wesley, when he was eighty-three, was invited by the vicar to preach in your beautiful High Church. If any of you have not been inside--but surely all my Hull readers have--pay it a visit, and just fancy you see that bright-eyed, silver-haired old man, with a voice that had lost little of the strength of youth, preaching to the crowds that thronged the hallowed place. If those old grey walls could speak, we might know John Wesley's very words. He preached again at night, and though so old, was unwearied with his work. He went on to Beverley that same evening, and the next day travelled seventy-six miles, preached at Malton, Pocklington, and Swinefleet, and went to bed without feeling the least bit tired. Wonderful John Wesley! G.o.d-blest John Wesley!

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CHAPTER x.x.xVII.

Beverley friends.--Copy of a letter John Wesley wrote to them.--Mr. Wesley's last visit to Beverley.--What took place in the red-roofed inn.--A race.--A lost ten minutes.

YOU, who live in Beverley, will be glad to hear that Mr. Wesley did not pa.s.s by your dear little town. Indeed, there is a house in Norwood where he most probably stayed, and certainly visited; the home of Mr. and Mrs.

Barton. You shall see an exact copy of a letter he wrote to these friends. It has never been printed before, so you are the first of the public to see it. It is addressed thus:

"MRS. JANE BARTON, "IN NORWOOD, BEVERLEY, "YORKs.h.i.+RE."

And this is the letter:

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London Nov. 13, 1778

My Dear Sister

I am glad Sister Crosby has been at Beverly, & that you had an Opportunity of hearing her. She is useful wheresoever she goes, particularly in exciting Believers to go on to perfection.

There is frequently something very mysterious in y^e ways of Divine Providence A little of them we may understand; but much more, is beyond our comprehension And we must be content to say, "What thou dost I know not now. But I shall know hereafter." At present, it is sufficient for us to know, That all his ways are many & truth to those that love him.

Even in these troublous times, there is a very considerable Increase of the Work of G.o.d. Cleave to Him with your whole heart, & you will have more & more reason to praise him. I am, My Dear Jenny, Y^r affectionate Brother

JWesley

You must not make a mistake and think that Mr. Wesley was Mrs. Jenny Barton's brother really; but it was the custom among the Methodists for the members of society to address each other as "Brother So-and-So" and "Sister So-and-So," meaning that they were brothers and sisters in having the same heavenly Father, and loving the same Saviour.

John Wesley preached in a meeting-house in Wood Lane, which you can still see, though it is now turned into cottages; and we may be quite sure that the boys and girls who lived in Beverley then, heard his loving words, and received his blessing. He once spent two days of his birthday month in your quaint old town. The June sun stole through the stained windows of the beautiful Minster, and looked into the jackdaws'

nests on St. Mary's Tower.

There is a funny story told of this last visit, which he paid only a few months before his death. He was going to preach in Hull again, and forty friends from that town had come over to see him. They were all to have dinner together in the red-roofed inn where he was staying, and then drive back with him to Hull. Everybody was very merry, and they laughed and talked so much that they quite forgot all about the time. Suddenly, Mr. Wesley looked at his watch, then jumped up from the dinner table, shouted good-bye to his friends, stepped into his carriage, which had been waiting some time for him at the door, and was off before his astonished friends could say a word. Their horses and carriages were got ready with all speed, but it was only by driving very fast that they managed to overtake Mr. Wesley before he rode into Hull.

Punctuality was one of Mr. Wesley's strongest points. He could never bear to be a minute behind time. Once, when his carriage did not come punctually, he was heard to say: "I have lost ten minutes for ever."

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CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.

Going to sleep.--How John Wesley missed his brother.--A good man's tears.--Getting old.--Mr.

Wesley's text for the children.--Last words in Manchester.--In Colchester.--A dinner-hour meeting.--The old ash tree.

NOW I must come to what seems to the young a very sad time. When we are strong and healthy, and can enjoy all the things G.o.d has given us to enjoy in this beautiful world, death does seem very sad and sorrowful.

But think, dear young readers, how you feel when you have been playing hard all day, or working at school, and perhaps gone to a party in the evening and have not got to bed until 10 o'clock. Is it not very nice and very comforting to lay your head on your soft pillow and go to sleep? Now this is just how G.o.d's people feel when they are tired of life's work, they just close their eyes and fall asleep, "asleep in Jesus." This is how Mr. Charles Wesley pa.s.sed away when he was eighty years old. Though four years younger than Mr. John, he seemed the older man, for he had been weak and infirm for a long time. The two brothers had loved each other dearly, and Mr. Wesley felt very lonely when "Charlie" died.

Three weeks afterwards, Mr. Wesley, preaching at Bolton, gave out for his second hymn No. 140, a hymn composed by Mr. Charles. He tried to read the first verse, but when he came to the words

"My company before is gone, And I am left alone with Thee,"

he could get no further, but just burst into tears, and sat down in the pulpit, burying his face in his hands. The singing ceased, and numbers of the congregation wept in sympathy at sight of their dear leader's sorrow. At last Mr. Wesley recovered himself, and went on with the service, which was never forgotten by any of those who were present.

Very soon after this, Mr. Wesley began to feel weak and feeble. Again his birthday month came round, the sunny month of June, and on the 17th he wrote: "I am eighty-six to-day, and I find I grow old. My eyes are so dim that no spectacles will help me, and I cannot read small print except in a very strong light. My strength fails me so that I walk much slower than I used to do." He was now, for the first time for forty years, obliged to give up his five o'clock morning sermons, and was only able to preach twice a day. As the months went by, he grew weaker and more infirm. Once, as the old man tottered up the pulpit stairs, the whole congregation burst into tears.

On Valentine's Day, in 1790, he preached one of his last sermons to his _little_ followers. He chose for his text: "Come, ye children, hearken unto Me: I will teach you the fear of the Lord." The boys and girls flocked from everywhere to hear him, and many who had never loved Jesus before, heard Him speaking to them through His dear servant; and answering the loving call, came, and from that day became Christ's faithful little soldiers.

In the same year, when he was eighty-seven years old, he spent a week-end in Manchester, and spoke his last words to his followers there.

He preached in the old chapel in Oldham Street on the Sat.u.r.day night, and the next day, which was Easter Sunday (April 4th), he a.s.sisted in giving the Sacrament to sixteen hundred members, and preached both night and morning without feeling tired.

A few months later he preached at Colchester; but he was so infirm that a minister had to stand on each side of him, and hold him up. His voice was feeble and low, and many of the congregation could not hear him; but his calm, beautiful face, and long white hair formed a picture that the children and grown-up people in Colchester never forgot.

It was in this same year, 1790, that he preached for the last time in the open air. It was in Winchelsea, and the time was October, the month when nuts and apples are asking to be gathered, and when the leaves put on their loveliest dress.

As Mr. Wesley felt his time on earth was drawing to a close, he was all the more eager to "tell to all around, what a dear Saviour he had found," and how they might find Him too. So he preached at twelve o'clock noon, the dinner hour of the workmen, in order that they too might have a chance of hearing the good news. A large oak dining-table was brought into the churchyard, and there, under the shade of an old ash tree, John Wesley gave his last message to those working men. "_The kingdom of Heaven is at hand; repent ye, and believe the Gospel_," was his text, and as he preached, the tears of the people flowed down their cheeks.

Long, long afterwards the old ash tree was known as "Wesley's Tree," and the vicar of Winchelsea had hard work to keep it from being cut to pieces; for Methodists use to come from all parts to cut a twig in remembrance of that last scene in the life of the venerable field-preacher.

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