The above is an important letter, were it for nothing else than showing that Wesley preached a doctrine he himself did not experience. For above thirty years, he had taught the doctrine of Christian perfection; but he here flatly declares, that, as yet, he had not attained to it: he taught it, not because he felt it, but because he believed the Bible taught it.
Wesley was anxious to visit his societies in the sister island. Ireland sorely needed his societies, and his societies needed him. As an instance illustrative of Ireland’s ignorance and superstition, at this period of Wesley’s history, it may be stated, that there was then a lake, in the county of Donegal, visited by about four thousand pilgrims, from all parts of Ireland, every year, many of them being the proxies of wealthier people, who, at a small expense of cash, discharged their sins, by employing the feet and knees of their poorer neighbours. The lake was about a mile and a half square, and had, in the centre of it, a small island, on which were built two chapels, and fifteen thatched dwellings for the accommodation of priests and penitents. The stay of each pilgrim in the holy island was from three to nine days, and his diet, during his visit, oatmeal and water. His penance was, to walk, without shoes and stockings, on a path of sharp and rough stones, not daring to pick his steps, for this would prevent the remission of his sins at the soles of his feet, the proper outlet; and would also divert his attention from the ave marias and pater nosters which he had to mumble in his piercing pilgrimage. Besides this pedestrian penance, he had to make the same sort of journey on his uncovered knees; and then to take his position in a narrow vault, and there sit with his head bowed down, for the space of four-and-twenty hours, without eating, drinking, or sleeping, and all the while repeating the prayers prescribed by his father confessor. To prevent the danger of a nap, each pilgrim penitent was furnished with a pin, to be suddenly inserted into his neighbour’s elbow, at the first approach of a drowsy nod; and, to complete the whole, each one was taken to a flat stone in the lake to undergo a scouring; after which, the priest bored a hole through the top of the pilgrim’s staff, in which he fastened a cross peg; and gave him as many holy pebbles from the lake as the poor dupe cared to carry for amulets among his friends. Thus scoured and fitted out, the man, with priestly and pious pomp, was then dismissed; and, with his shillalah converted into a pilgrim’s cross, became an object of veneration to all who met him.[695]
A journey to Ireland now is thought a trifle; but in Wesley’s days it was otherwise. Wesley’s purpose was to embark from Bristol; but, on arriving there, he found that there was no ship large enough to take his horses. Accordingly, he had to hurry from Bristol to Liverpool, where the same disappointment awaited him that he had met at Bristol. A third time he started, and now hastened from Liverpool to Portpatrick in Scotland; and here, on March 29, he was fortunate enough to find a vessel of sufficient size to carry him and his equine friends across the channel. Three weeks elapsed, however, from the time he left London to the time he left Portpatrick. Of course the interval was not spent without preaching. At Wednesbury, where, six months before, he had left one of his wearied nags to enjoy a rest, he found the poor beast, to the disgrace of the Wednesbury Methodists, had been ridden “all the winter, and was now galled, jaded, and worn to skin and bones.” At Liverpool, where he spent a sabbath, he made a public collection, which, to the honour of the Liverpool Methodists, amounted to the munificent sum of £1 4s. 9d.[696] From Kendal to Portpatrick, he had to struggle against wind, and rain, and snow, and sleet, through the most miserable roads, and, at one point, Solway frith, through water reaching to his horse’s belly. What but the love of Christ could constrain a man to brave difficulties and dangers such as these?
Wesley spent four months in Ireland, from March 30 to July 29. A few jottings of his journeyings may be useful.
On March 31, he met the society at Belfast, where the Methodist preaching place was a slaughterhouse, and the circuit of which it formed a part consisted of the whole of the territory now included in the Portadown and Belfast districts; a circuit whose quarterly meeting a year afterwards passed the magnanimous resolution, that every member should “pay a penny every quarter towards defraying the expenses of the round.”[697]
At Newry, when he began to preach in the market house, his congregation consisted of four persons besides himself. He writes, however: “A good number assembled before I had done, only none of the gentry; they were hindered by a business of more importance,—dressing for the assembly!” It was about this period, that the following expensive item was, with conscientious solemnity, entered in the Newry circuit stewards’ book: “A lash for Mr. Wesley’s whip, 3d.”[698]
On April 10, he writes: “I preached at Portadown, a place not troubled with any kind of religion. I stood in the street; the people gathered from all sides; and, when I prayed, kneeled down upon the stones, rich and poor, all around me.”
“April 15.—I rode to Armagh. Half an hour before the time of preaching, an officer came, and said, ‘Sir, the sovereign’ (or mayor) ‘orders me to inform you, you shall not preach in this town.’ In order to make the trial, I walked to the market house at six. I had just begun when the sovereign came. He was talking very loud, and tolerably fast, when a gentleman said: ‘Sir, if you are not allowed to preach here, you are welcome to preach in Mr. M’Gough’s avenue.’ Mr. M’Gough, one of the chief merchants in the town, himself showed us the way. I suppose thrice as many people flocked there, as would have heard me in the market house. So did the wise providence of God draw good out of evil!”
Soon after this, the archiepiscopal city of Ireland had not only a Methodist society, but a Methodist meeting-house, measuring fourteen feet by twelve, unceiled, and with a thatched roof,—a contrast to Armagh’s cathedral.[699]
At Swadlingbar, Wesley found a lively congregation of plain country people, “as simple and artless as if they had lived upon the Welsh mountains.” As soon as he begun preaching, a papist commenced “blowing a horn”; but “a gentleman,” says Wesley, “stepping up, snatched his horn away, and, without ceremony, knocked him down.”