“The next day, we dined at Birmingham, and, soon after we left it, were reproved for our negligence there, in letting those, who attended us, go without either exhortation or instruction, by a severe shower of hail. At Hedgeford, about five, we endeavoured to be more faithful; and all who heard seemed serious and affected.”
Here, again, is a useful lesson. As yet, neither Wesley nor Kinchin had found peace with God, by trustful faith in Christ. They were, if the reader likes the designation, legalists,—men seeking to be saved by their own good works. Be it so; but, in their conscientiousness with regard to duty, and in their earnest desire to be useful to their fellow-men, they set an example to Christian travellers, which is not generally followed. Wesley continues:—
“In the evening, we came to Stafford. The mistress of the house joined with us in family prayer. The next morning, one of the servants appeared deeply affected, as did the ostler, before we went. Soon after breakfast, stepping into the stable, I spake a few words to those who were there. A stranger, who heard me, said, ‘Sir, I wish I was to travel with you;’ and, when I went into the house, followed me, and began abruptly, ‘Sir, I believe you are a good man, and I come to tell you a little of my life.’ The tears stood in his eyes all the time he spoke; and we hoped not a word which was said to him was lost.
“At Newcastle, whither we came about ten, some, to whom we spoke at our inn, were very attentive; but a gay young woman waited on us, quite unconverted: however, we spoke on. When we went away, she fixed her eyes, and neither moved nor said one word, but appeared as much astonished as if she had seen one risen from the dead.
“Coming to Holms-Chapel about three, we were surprised at being shown into a room where a cloth and plates were laid. Soon after, two men came in to dinner. Mr. Kinchin told them, if they pleased, that gentleman would ask a blessing for them. They stared, and, as it were, consented; but sat still while I did it, one of them with his hat on. We began to speak on turning to God, and went on, though they appeared utterly regardless. After a while, their countenances changed, and one of them stole off his hat, and, laying it down behind him, said, all we said was true; but he had been a grievous sinner, and not considered it as he ought; but he was resolved, with God’s help, now to turn to Him in earnest. We exhorted him and his companion, who now likewise drank in every word, to cry mightily to God, that, He would ‘send them help from His holy place.’
“Being faint in the evening, I called at Altrincham, and there lit upon a Quaker, well skilled in, and therefore, as I soon found, sufficiently fond of controversy. After an hour spent therein, perhaps not in vain, I advised him to dispute as little as possible; but rather follow after holiness, and walk humbly with his God.”
Men like Kinchin and Wesley will never be without adventures. This long three days’ journey, in the wintry weather, was filled with incidents, by the earnest efforts of the travellers to be of service to those with whom they met. They were scholars, gentlemen, and philanthropists. Religion was all in all to them. They lived it; looked it; breathed it. Everywhere, in the humble home of the quondam prisoner, the town hotel, the country inn, and the ostler’s stable,—among waiters, fellow-travellers, and disputatious Quakers,—they were equally about their Master’s business. Would, that, in these days of unequalled locomotion, men of such a spirit and of such behaviour were multiplied!
Three days were spent in Manchester, one of them “entirely with Mr. Clayton, by whom,” says Wesley, “and the rest of our friends here, we were much refreshed and strengthened.” On the Sunday, both the Oxford Methodists “officiated at Salford Chapel”; and, on Monday, March 20th, they set out on their return to Oxford. Wesley writes:—
“Early in the morning, we left Manchester, taking with us Mr. Kinchin’s brother, for whom we came, to be entered at Oxford. We were fully determined to lose no opportunity of awakening, instructing, or exhorting, any whom we might meet with on our journey. At Knutsford, where we first stopped, all we spake to thankfully received the word of exhortation. But, at Talk-on-the-Hill, where we dined, she with whom we were was so much of a gentlewoman, that, for near an hour, our labour seemed to be in vain. However, we spoke on. Upon a sudden, she looked as one just awakened out of sleep. Every word sunk into her heart. Nor have I seen so entire a change, both in the eyes, face, and manner of speaking, of any one in so short a time.
“About five, Mr. Kinchin riding by a man and woman double-horsed, the man said, ‘Sir, you ought to thank God it is a fair day; for, if it rained, you would be sadly dirty with your little horse.’ Mr. Kinchin answered, ‘True; and we ought to thank God for our life, and health, and food, and raiment, and all things.’ He then rode on, Mr. Fox following; the man said, ‘Sir, my mistress would be glad to have some more talk with that gentleman.’ We stayed, and when they came up began to search one another’s hearts. They came to us again in the evening, at our inn at Stone, where I explained both to them and many of their acquaintance, who were come together, that great truth,—godliness hath the promise both of this life, and of that which is to come.