"I thought of Stephen, and was in hopes, like him, to go off in this bloody triumph, to the immediate presence of my Master." [p. 177. On Sunday afternoon, having preached in Oxmantown Green, a place much frequented by large parties of the Ormond and Liberty Boys, as they were called, who often fought there, he very narrowly escaped with his life. It being war time, he had earnestly exhorted his hearers, as was his usual practice, not only to fear God, but also to honor the king; and prayed for the success of his Prussian majesty's arms. While he was preaching, and earnest in prayer, some stones were thrown at him, which providentially did him no hurt. But when he had done, endeavoring to return the way that he came, by the barracks, to his great surprise, access was denied: so that he was obliged to walk near half a mile over the green, through some hundreds of rioters and buffoons, who, perceiving him to be alone, four preachers and a soldier having deserted him and fled, threw showers of stones upon him from every quarter, which made him reel backwards and forwards, till he was almost breathless, and covered with a gore of blood.* At length, with the greatest difficulty, he staggered to the door of a minister's house, near the green, which was humanely opened to him. For a considerable time he remained speechless, and gasping for breath; but his weeping friends having given him some cordials, and washed his wounds, procured a coach, in which, amidst vollies of oaths, horrid imprecations, and violent threatenings of the rabble, he came safe home; and joined in a hymn of thanksgiving with his mourning, yet rejoicing friends; of whom he says, "none but spectators could form an idea of the affection with which I was received."t "I received many blows and wounds; one was particularly large and near my temples. I thought of Stephen; and was in hopes, like him, to go off in this bloody triumph, to the immediate presence of my Master." He used to say, in speaking of this event, that in England, Scotland and America, he had been treated only as a common minister of the gospel, but that in Ireland he had been elevated to the rank of an Apostle, in having had the honor of being stoned. It was under this sermon, that the late Rev. John Edwards was impressed with the great importance of religion. Whitefield, in the sermon alluded to, addressed the consciences of the people with such peculiar energy and success, that Mr. E. thought every word was personally directed to him, though he had concealed himself from the preacher's view, and to him was entirely unknown. In what period of his life he entered on the work of the ministry, we cannot learn. Several years he preached in connection with Mr. Wesley; but some disagreeable circumstances existing in the society of Leeds, he and a number of friends, attached to him as the instrument of their spiritual knowledge and happiness, after much deliberation with each other, and prayer to God, withdrew themselves, and built another chapel, where he continued to dispense the word of life for more than thirty years. Before he settled at Leeds, in the year 1755, he went about doing good, after the example of the friend of sinners. He endured the cross and despised the shame. In Ireland he traveled and labored much in the early part of the ministry; and the effects of his humble exertions to diffuse the knowledge of The next morning, though extremely weak, he set out for Port Arlington, "leaving," he says, "my persecutors to his mercy, who of persecutors has often made preachers. I pray God, I may thus be avenged of them!" Having preached at Port Arlington, Athlone, Limerick, and Cork; in the beginning of August, he returned to England; and whenever the weather was favorable, continued to range, as he termed it, every where preaching with as great earnestness and apparent success as ever. "This spiritual hunting," Christ, were crowned with abundant success. At one time, while he resided in Dublin, as he was returning from preaching at a village, a party of rude fellows, composed of the Ormond Boys, who used to assemble in the evening, recognized him as swaddling John a term of reproach applied to the Methodist preachers in Ireland; and seized him with all the madness of their enmity against the truth he preached, declared they would throw him over the bridge into the Liffey. This was observed by an opposite party, who had assumed the appellation of Liberty Boys, residing on the other side of the river; they immediately encountered his assailants, determined they would rescue him out of their hands. This they accomplished, and carried him home in triumph; saying he was their swaddling John, for he lived on their side of the river, and none should hurt him. Thus God preserved his life, and made both the wrath and ignorance of man to praise him. At another time, having preached out of doors, after he had finished his discourse, a furious mob of the White Boys beset the house into which he had entered, and threatened to burn it to the ground, if he was permitted to continue in it. This desperate menace greatly alarmed the inhabitants, who were extremely unwilling to gratify their wicked desire. There was, however, but one way for his escape, and that was through a window which opened into a garden belonging to a justice of the peace, who was himself a bitter persecutor of the Methodists; through this window he was let down in a basket. Here he stood some time in great consternation, fearing the family would observe him, and charge him with having broken into their garden for bad purposes, and that thereby both himself and religion might be injured. At length he ventured to knock at the door; asked for the squire; and being introduced, ingeniously stated the circumstances of his distressed situation, which had such an effect on the magistrate's mind, that he protected and entertained him at his house two days in a hospitable manner. He was sincere in all his pastoral engagements-deeply impressed with the vast importance of his work, and greatly loved by his congregation. The salvation of souls excited his watchfulness, his prayers, and his zeal; and in his whole life he was an epistle of Christ, known and read of all men. Governed by a disinterested concern for the peace and prosperity of the people committed to his charge, he was instant in season and out of season; reproving, rebuking, and exhorting with all long suffering and gentleness. "And, as a bird each fond endearment tries On the 17th of February, 1785, aged 71, he bid adieu to all his connections in this mortal life, and entered into his eternal rest. This term of reproach originated in the following circumstance. Soon after the introduction of Methodism into Ireland, the late Rev. John Cennick was preaching in Dublin on a Christmas day. His text was Luke ii. 12. Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger. A drunken fellow, who was listening at the door, to pick up something by which he might ridicule this new religion, which had not yet obtained a name: hearing the word swaddling often repeated, ran along the street, exclaiming with great vulgarity, O! these people are swaddlers, they are swaddlers! The name quickly took, and became the badge of opprobrium through Ireland. says he, "is delightful sport, when the heart is in the work!" At Plymouth, he had the pleasure of seeing officers, soldiers, sailors, &c. attending divine worship with becoming reverence and delight. He enjoyed, also, delightful seasons in Exeter, Bristol, Gloucester, and other towns, and about the middle of October, 1757, returned to London. By his unremitted attendance this winter at the chapel and the Tabernacle, together with much study and care, his health became greatly impaired. Weakened as he was by continual vomitings, want of sleep, and loss of appetite, he, however, still went on as well as he could. "I am brought now," says he, "to the short allowance of preaching but once on week days, and twice on a Sunday." When disengaged from his public ministrations, he was ever projecting some plan or other for the advancement of religion; as the erecting of alms-houses for religious widows, on the ground which surrounded the chapel. "I have a plan," says he, "for twelve. The whole expense will be four hundred pounds. I have a prospect of two. I propose allowing each widow half a crown a week. The sacrament money will more than do. If this be affected, many godly widows will be provided for, and a standing monument left that the Methodists were not against good works." In a short time he put this plan into execution. February 16, 1758, the foundation of the alms-house was laid, and the widows began to be admitted in the June following.* His summer circuit this year, he began at Gloucester: from whence he proceeded to Bristol, and onward to Wales. During his stay in that country, his health was much on the decline; so that he could not sit up in company, as he had been used to do; and could take but little food. Yet, notwithstanding his infirmities, he continued his journey through great part of South Wales, incredible multitudes attending his preaching wherever he went. In the month of July, he set off for Scotland. In his way, he preached at Everton, St. Neot's, Kayso, Bedford, Oulney, Weston, Underwood, Ravenstone, Northampton, and Newcastle. Four clergymen lent him their pulpits. His bodily strength so little increased by this journey, that he frequently felt an inclination to turn back. But he did not think it consistent with his duty. "Through divine strength," says he, "I hope to go forward; and shall strive, as much as in me lies, to die in this glorious work." Yet, through the divine blessing, his * To a gentleman who visited him in London in the year 1768, he pointed out those houses from the room in which they sat, and said, "those are my redoubts. The prayers of the poor women who reside in them, protect me in my house." |