CHAPTER X.
A corner in America.—Wanted a missionary.—Mrs. Wesley gives up her sons to God's work.—At the dock-side.—The good ship "Simmonds."—Life on board.—A terrible storm.—The German Christians who were not afraid.
F you look on your map of the United States, you will see in the south-east, a little corner called Georgia. It was to this place that a number of poor people from England had emigrated; people who had been cruelly treated in prison, and on being released had no work to do and nowhere to go. Some kind Christian gentlemen collected money to help them to get to Georgia, where they could have plenty of work and plenty of food. A number of poor Germans, too, who had been persecuted in their own country because of their religion, also went out to this place where they could worship God as they chose, without fear of cruel treatment.
When people are driven out of their own country like this, they are called "exiles," and though this little band of exiles found work and food, and freedom to worship God in the new land, they had no minister. So the gentlemen who had raised the money, and who knew what brave, good men Mr. John and Mr. Charles Wesley were, asked them if they would go out and minister to these poor people in Georgia. "You are just the men to comfort and teach them," they said.
Then, too, a number of Indians lived in Georgia, and they wanted to be friends with the white strangers, and General Oglethorpe and Dr. Burton, the gentlemen I mentioned, thought it would be a good opportunity to preach the gospel to them.
When Mr. John Wesley was first asked, he said: "No, I cannot go, I cannot leave my mother." Then they said: "Will you go if your mother gives her consent?"
"Yes," said John, feeling quite sure she would never give it.
So he went to Epworth and told his mother all about the matter. Then he waited for her reply. Mrs. Wesley loved her "boy" John very, very dearly, and if he went to America she might never see him again, and yet her answer came: "If I had twenty sons, I would give them all up for such a work."
Even after obtaining this unexpected consent, John did not decide to go until he had asked the advice of his brother Samuel and his friend Mr. Law, both of whom advised him to undertake the work. Then both he and his brother sent in their decision to General Oglethorpe, and began making preparations for their long journey across the Atlantic Ocean.
Now I want us to imagine ourselves at Gravesend, a place on the river Thames near London. Look at all those ships in the docks! See, there is one that looks just ready to sail! Can you read the name of it? "S i m m o n d s"—"Simmonds." Yes, that is its name. Let us button up our coats, as it is a sharp October day, and watch the passengers go on board.
Look at that little man with the nice face, and a lot of colour in his cheeks! What long hair he has! and how smooth it is! It looks as if he brushed it a great deal. See, he is looking this way, and we can notice his beautiful forehead and his bright eyes. Why that must be Mr. John Wesley! And, of course, that is his brother Charles talking to some gentlemen on the deck. See, he is holding a book close to his eyes—he must be short-sighted. Listen, how the others are laughing! I expect he is making a joke. Now he is walking off arm in arm with one of his companions. He seems to be still loving-hearted and full of fun, the same Charlie he was at Westminster School only grown big.
A number of Germans were also on board the "Simmonds," all bound for Georgia. Before they had been many days at sea, John Wesley found out that they were earnest Christians, and he began at once to learn German in order that he might talk to them.
The brothers had not taken their father's advice about fasting; they and some other Methodists who were their fellow-passengers still thought they ought to do with as little food as possible, and with as few comforts. They ate nothing but rice, biscuits, and bread, and John Wesley slept on the floor. He was obliged to do it one night, because the waves got into the ship and wet his bed, and because he slept so well that night, he thought the floor was good enough for him, and continued to sleep on it.
I expect you wonder how they spent their time during the long, long voyage to Georgia. I will tell you. They made the same strict rules for themselves that they did at Oxford. They got up every morning at four o'clock, and spent the time in private prayer until five o'clock. Then they all read the Bible together until seven. After that they had breakfast, and then public prayers for everybody on the ship who would come. Then from nine to twelve—just your school-time, little readers, is it not?—Mr. John studied his German; somebody else studied Greek, another taught the children on board, and Mr. Charles wrote sermons. Then at twelve o'clock they all met and told each other how they had been getting along, and what they had been doing. At one o'clock they had dinner, and after that they read or preached to those on board until four o'clock. Then they studied and preached and prayed again until nine, when they went to bed. Were not these strict rules? I wonder if they ever had the headache? I am afraid we should, if we studied so hard and so long.
Have you ever been to Liverpool, and seen one of those beautiful vessels that go to America? They are as nice and as comfortable as the best of your own homes, and you can get to the other side of the Atlantic in about ten days. But at the time of which I write, more than one hundred and fifty years ago, travelling was very different. The ships were much smaller, and tossed about a great deal more, and the passengers had to put up with a great many discomforts. Then again, it took weeks, instead of days, to get across to America.
The passengers on board the "Simmonds" met with some terrible storms; often the great waves would dash over their little ship, until it seemed as if it must sink and never rise again.
One of these storms began on a Sunday, about twelve o'clock in the middle of the day. The wind roared round them, and the waves, rising like mountains, kept washing over and over the decks. Every ten minutes came a shock against the side of the boat, that seemed as if it would dash the planks in pieces.
During this storm as Mr. Wesley was coming out of the cabin-door, a big wave knocked him down. There he lay stunned and bruised, until some one came to his help. When he felt better, he went and comforted the poor English passengers, who were dreadfully afraid, and were screaming and crying in their fear. Then he went among the Germans, but they needed no comfort from him. He heard them singing as he got near, and found them calm and quiet, not the least bit frightened.
"Were you not afraid?" Mr. Wesley asked them when the storm was over.
"No," they answered, "we are not afraid to die."
"But were not the children frightened?" he said.
"No," they said again, "our children are not afraid to die either."
During that terrible storm they had remembered how Jesus stilled the tempest on the Lake of Galilee, and His voice seemed to say to them now: "Peace, be still."
This reminds me of a piece of poetry, which I dare say some of you have read. It is about a little girl whose father was a captain, and once when there was an awful storm, and even the captain himself was frightened:
"——his little daughter
Took her father by the hand,
And said: 'Is not God upon the water
Just the same as on the land?'"
"The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of the sea:" Psa. xciii. 4.
"He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still:" Psa. cvii. 29.
