The Love That Prevailed

by Frank Frankfort Moore

“No,” said Wesley, “I would not be so presumptuous as to lay claim to any knowledge that would entitle me to speak on a subject of such awful import. 'Ye know not the day nor the hour'—those were the words of our Lord, and anyone who makes profession of knowing either, commits a grievous sin.”

“Ay, anyone but me,” said Pritchard. “But the revelation was made to me—I take no glory to myself. The great and terrible Day of the Lord cometh next Monday, and they shall cry unto the rocks to fall on them and the mountains to cover them. What other place could that refer to if not Ruthallion and Porthawn; is't not that Buthallion is in the heart of the hills and Porthawn the place of rocks?”

With all gentleness Wesley spoke to the man of the great need there was for caution on the part of anyone venturing to assign times and seasons to such prophecies as had been uttered respecting the mystery of the Last Judgment. He tried to show him that however strong his own conviction was on the subject of the Revelation, he should hold his peace, for fear of a mistake being made and enemies being afforded a reason for railing against the cause which they all had at heart. The interpretation of prophecy, he said, was at all times difficult and should certainly not be lightly attempted even by those men who had spent all their lives dealing with the subject, with the light of history to guide them. Nothing could exceed the tact, patience and gentleness with which the pastor pleaded with this erring one of his flock—the miller and Jake Pullsford were amazed at his forbearance; they learned a lesson from him which they never forgot. He was patient and said no word of offence all the time that they were waxing irritable at the foolishness of the man who sat shaking his head now and again, and pursing out his lips after the manner of pig-headed ignorance when objecting to the wisdom of experience.

It was all to no purpose that Wesley spoke. The man listened, but criticised with the smile of incredulous superiority on his face almost all the time that Wesley was speaking—it varied only when he was shaking his head, and then throwing it back defiantly. It was all to no purpose.

“You are right, Mr. Wesley, in some ways,” he cried. “But you talk of the interpretation of prophecy. Well, that is within your sphere, and I durstn't stop you so far. Ay, but I am not an interpreter of prophecy—I am the very prophet himself. Friends, said not I the truth to you this hour past—how I felt as it were a burst of flame within me, whereby I knew that I had been possessed of the spirit of prophecy? The gift of water-finding, which has been mine since my youth, was only bestowed upon the major prophets, Moses being the chief; and when I read of Elijah, who in the days of the grievous water famine was enabled by the exercise of his gift, and guided by the hand of the Lord, to find water—even the running brook Chereth—in the midst of a land that was dusty dry, all unworthy doubt was set at rest. Is it not written that Elijah, the prophet, was to come back to earth to warn the people of the Great Day being at hand?”

“Dear friend, stay thy tongue for a moment—say not words that might not be forgiven thee even by the Most Merciful,” cried Wesley.

“You are a great preacher and a faithful servant—up to a certain point, Mr. Wesley; but you are not as I am,” replied Pritchard firmly, but not without a tone of tenderness. “You are a preacher; I am the prophet. I have spoken as Jonah spoke to the men of Nineveh: 'Yet forty days and Nineveh shall be overthrown.' 'In eleven days the world shall be overthrown,' said I, feeling the flame within me.”

“The people of Nineveh repented and the destruction was averted,” said Wesley. “Have there been signs of a great repentance among the people who got tidings of your prediction?”

“My prophecy has everywhere been received with ridicule,” replied the man proudly.

“I can testify to that,” said Jake Pullsford. “I travel about, as you know, and I hear much of what is talked over from here to Devon, and only for a few light-headed women—ready to believe that the moon was the sun if they were told so from the pulpit—only for these, it might be said that Dick's foolishness would ha' fallen on ears as deaf as an adders.”