Here he made strict inquiry concerning an event of recent occurrence, and which at the time excited great attention. Osmotherley lies nestled nearly at the foot of a long mountain range, known by the name of Black Hambleton. A few weeks before, a part of the mountain consisting of a vast ridge of rock, called Whiston Cliff, was split asunder, amid a sound as of rolling thunder. On March 25, there was a loud noise issuing from the mountain, but nothing more. Next day, a huge piece of the rocky precipice, fifteen yards thick, ten high, and above twenty broad, was torn from the mountain side and thrown into the valley. The ground shook, and immense stones, of several tons weight, rose like giants out of the ground below, and rolled to and fro with marvellous velocity. On the three succeeding days, the ground continued trembling; in many places the earth clave asunder; and huge rocks turned upside down and moved in all directions. Patches of ground, as much as fifty yards in diameter, were lifted bodily, and, burdened with rocks and even trees, were removed to a considerable distance, without the least fissure being created by the transit. In a space of about forty acres, the earth was cleft in a thousand places, while the cliff, from which the rest was torn, was white as snow, and, glittering in the sunlight, was visible at a distance of many miles.
Wesley, at all times keenly alive to the supernatural, took the deepest interest in this phenomenon. At Osmotherley, he met with eye and ear witnesses of this strange occurrence. He went with one of them, Edward Abbot, a weaver, to the spot, and “walked, crept and climbed, round and over great part of the ruins.” He wrote a description of what he saw, which was published in the London Magazine, the Gentleman’s Magazine, the Public Advertiser, and other periodicals. He endeavoured to account for the phenomenon, and came to the conclusion, that it was not produced by any “merely natural cause,—fire, water, or air, but by God Himself,” who arose to shake terribly the earth; and who purposely chose such a place, where there was so great a concourse of nobility and gentry every year.[238] This excited the ire of an anonymous contributor to the Gentleman’s Magazine, who declared that he had “caused an inquiry to be made into the fact, at no small trouble and expense; and found the whole to be a falsehood, without the least degree of truth for its foundation.” A more audacious lie than this, it is difficult to imagine; and yet it was published. A few months later, Wesley wrote as follows to the editor of that periodical.
“Bristol, March 8, 1756.
“Mr. Urban,—I have met with many persons in my life, who did not abound with modesty; but I never yet met with one who had less of it than your anonymous correspondent. The whole account of Whiston Cliff, inserted in one of your magazines, I aver to be punctually true, having been an eye witness of every particular of it. And if F. D. will set his name, and aver the contrary, I will make him ashamed, unless shame and he have shook hands, and parted.
“Yours, etc.,
“John Wesley.”
The editor adds, that, if his anonymous correspondent does not make good his assertion, he is treated in Wesley’s letter with less severity than he deserves. This evoked a communication from a man who afterwards rose to fame in the literary world. John Langhorne, who, besides numerous other works, became the well known translator of Plutarch’s Lives, was now in his twentieth year, and a private tutor in the neighbourhood of Thirsk. Having read the impudent mendacity of F. D., he wrote to Mr. Urban, stating that he himself had visited the scene of this strange upheaving, and fully confirmed Wesley’s statement. Thus terminated this earthquake episode in Wesley’s history.
From Whiston Cliff, Wesley went to Thirsk, and then to York, the society at the latter place being, number for number, the richest he had in England. “I hope,” says he, “that York will not prove, as Cork has done, the Capua of our preachers.” He reached London on the 16th of June, and wrote:—
“From a deep sense of the amazing work which God has of late years wrought in England, I preached, in the evening, on those words (Psalm cxlvii. 20), ‘He hath not dealt so with any nation;’ no, not even with Scotland or New England. In both these, God has indeed made bare His arm; yet not in so astonishing a manner as among us. This must appear to all who impartially consider—(1) The numbers of persons on whom God has wrought. (2) The swiftness of His work in many, both convinced and truly converted in a few days. (3) The depth of it in most of these, changing the heart, as well as the whole conversation. (4) The clearness of it, enabling them boldly to say, ‘Thou hast loved me, Thou hast given Thyself for me.’ (5) The continuance of it. God has wrought in Scotland and New England, at several times, for some weeks or months together; but, among us, He has wrought for near eighteen years together, without any observable intermission. Above all, let it be remarked, that a considerable number of the clergy were engaged in that great work in Scotland; and, in New England, above a hundred, perhaps as eminent as any in the whole province, not only for piety, but also for abilities, both natural and acquired; whereas, in England, there were only two or three inconsiderable clergymen, with a few young, raw, unlettered men; and those opposed by well-nigh all the clergy, as well as laity, in the nation. He that remarks this must needs own, both that this is a work of God, and that He hath not wrought so in any other nation.”
Immediately after his return to London, Wesley entered into an important correspondence, which lasted for the next nine months, and which, in 1760, was published in an octavo pamphlet of 52 pages, with the title, “Original Letters between the Reverend Mr. John Wesley, and Mr. Richard Tompson, respecting the Doctrine of Assurance, as held by the former: Wherein that Tenet is fully examined. With some Strictures on Christian Perfection.” Richard Tompson was no ordinary man. He makes no pretension to any knowledge of the learned languages; but he was unquestionably well acquainted with his own. Without the advantages of early education, he had, by great assiduity in reading, mastered the science of divinity, and was a respectable proficient in the study of literature in general. He was evidently a man of powerful mind, and there is the greatest fairness in his reasoning. Wesley wrote: “Of all the disputants I have known, you are the most likely to convince me of any mistakes I may be in; because you have found out the great secret of speaking the truth in love.” This was praise which Tompson well merited. From first to last, there is nothing in his letters but what is consonant with the highest respect and sincerest love. And yet, he pins his opponent with consummate skill, states his objections in the clearest light, and deduces his conclusions with a power which Wesley found it difficult to resist. In former years, he had been a Methodist; at present he was not. Still, he was a man of enlightened and earnest piety, and of a sober and exemplary life. All his letters, except the last, were anonymous; not because he was doubtful of his tenets, or ashamed of the doctrines he was endeavouring to defend, but because he not unreasonably apprehended, that, if his name was given, his letters might not be read, nor receive the attention which, he knew their intrinsic worth deserved. When he divulged his name, Wesley, like a Christian gentleman, instead of being annoyed at being betrayed into a correspondence with one of whom he had spoken in his Journal somewhat disparagingly, addressed him with brotherly affection, and concluded this remarkable and able correspondence thus: “Your reasons for concealing your name were good: we cannot too carefully guard against prejudice. You have no need of any excuse at all. For you have done no wrong, but rather a pleasure, to your affectionate brother, John Wesley.”