Some will wonder at Wesley attending the performance of oratorios; but why so? Fault may properly be found with Martin Madan for using a place of worship for such performances; but Martin Madan was merely copying the example of his superiors, who, even then, once a year, gave the use of their cathedrals to the choirs of Gloucester, Hereford, and Worcester, for the same musical purposes. Indeed, some of the early Methodists adopted the same doubtful usage. We have before us more than one of Handel’s oratorios, specially printed, for performance in Oldham Street chapel, Manchester, only two or three years after Wesley’s death. All this was dubious; indeed, we venture to designate it desecration. A Christian sanctuary is a place far too sacred to be used as a place of intellectual entertainment, even though, as in the case of Martin Madan, the pleasure be of the most refined and exalted character; but, excepting the fact that a place of worship was turned into a concert hall, who can reasonably find fault with Wesley attending the performance of the oratorios in question? Music was a passion in the Wesley family; and no one felt it stronger than the subject of this memoir. His brother’s sons, Charles and Samuel, were young Mozarts; and his own taste was exquisitely beautiful and pure. The music sung by the first Methodists was music of his own selecting; and, in after years, even he himself marvelled that, without studying the science, his selections had been so classical, and so much in harmony with the severest taste of the greatest masters. In 1768, he wrote: “I was much surprised in reading an ‘Essay on Music,’ written by one who is a thorough master of the subject, to find, that the music of the ancients was as simple as that of the Methodists; that their music wholly consisted of melody, or the arrangement of single notes; that what is now called harmony, singing in parts, the whole of counterpoints and fugues, is quite novel, being never known in the world till the popedom of Leo X.”
On the 12th of March, Wesley commenced his long northern journey, which occupied nearly the next five months. At Stroud, he writes: “How many years were we beating the air in this place! one wrong headed man pulling down all we could build up; but, since he is gone, the word of God takes root, and the society increases both in number and strength.”
At Birmingham, Wesley preached in the chapel which had formerly been a playhouse, and remarks: “Happy would it be, if all the playhouses in the kingdom were converted to so good an use. After service, the mob gathered, and threw dirt and stones at people going out.”
At Dudley, “formerly a den of lions, but now quiet as Bristol, they had just finished their preaching house, which was thoroughly filled.” Mr. Southall and his family were a part of the first society; in his house meetings for prayer were held; and more than once were his window’s smashed, and the congregation cursed with the most bitter oaths and curses.[581]
At Wednesbury, Wesley had the largest congregation he had seen since he left London. The riots here, when Methodism was first introduced, have been already noticed. Suffice it to add further, that a quaker was the means of quelling them. This “Friend” happening to ride through the town, the mob swore he was a preacher, pulled him from his horse, dragged him to a coalpit, and threatened to throw him in. The man of peace availed himself of law, and prosecuted his assailants at the assizes; and, from that time, the tumults of the town subsided.[582]
At Walsall, notwithstanding the inclemency of the season, he had to preach out of doors, at seven o’clock in the morning, the chapel not being able to contain the people. Remembering past scenes, well might Wesley say, “How is Walsall changed! Now has God either tamed the wild beasts, or chained them up!”
On March 26, Wesley paid his first visit to Ashby-de-la-Zouch. The chapel and the chapel yard both were filled; “and I saw,” says Wesley, “but one trifler among them all, which, I understood, was an attorney. Poor man! if men live what I preach, the hope of his gain is lost.”
On leaving Ashby, Wesley went to Derby, and attempted to preach in the market-place, but he no sooner announced his text than the mob raised such a noise, that he found it impossible to make himself heard; and, hence, he quietly retired to the house of Mr. Dobinson, “an innumerable retinue” following after and throwing stones.
At Sheffield, Wesley found about sixty who professed to be entirely sanctified. He writes: “I could not learn, that any among them walk unworthy of their profession. Many watch over them for evil; but they ‘overcome evil with good.’ I found nothing of self conceit, stubbornness, impatience of contradiction, or London enthusiasm, among them.”
From Sheffield, he proceeded to Rotherham, Doncaster, Epworth, and Grimsby. At Rotherham, he preached at the opening of a new chapel, a donkey, who had walked up to the door, being, as he relates, apparently one of his most attentive auditors. At Doncaster, a society had recently been formed, which met in the house of Betty Riley, and had Thomas Naylor as its leader. The rabble were rude and often violent; but truth was mighty, and its triumphs great. On one occasion, in 1765, while Jeremiah Cocker of Sheffield was preaching, a bull was driven up to him; but the preacher quietly laid his hands upon its horns, and continued his discourse. Still, for many years, Methodism in Doncaster was a feeble thing, and even as late as 1793, when it had sixty members, it raised only £1 5s. per quarter for the support of the work of God, or about a farthing and a half per member weekly. In reference to Grimsby, Wesley writes: “Grimsby, once the most dead, is now the most lively place in all the country. Here has been a large and swift increase both of the society and hearers, so that the house, though galleries are added, is still too small. The mayor and all the gentry of the town were present; and so was our Lord, in an uncommon manner. Some dropped down as dead; but, after a while, rejoiced with joy unspeakable. One was carried away in violent fits. I went to her after the service. She was strongly convulsed from head to foot, and shrieked out in a dreadful manner. The unclean spirit did tear her indeed: but his reign was not long. In the morning both her soul and body were healed, and she acknowledged both the justice and mercy of God.”