“My hearty love to your brother, and all friends. I have received a letter from Mr. Smith. He says he will acquaint his tutor with all his concerns. I design shortly to write to Mr. Ford and Watson. I earnestly desire the hearty prayers of all friends.
“From your most obliged and affectionate friend and servant,
“B. Ingham.”
Here we have another glimpse of Oxford Methodism,—intense conscientiousness, concern on account of surrounding wickedness, early rising, religious employment of every hour, devout study, care for neglected children, and observance of the weekly fasts; but not a word respecting the great truth, that sinners are saved by the alone merits of Jesus Christ, and by a penitential trust in His all-sufficient sacrifice. These were truths which the Oxford Methodists had yet to learn. Ingham, like Kirkham, the Morgans, and Clayton, looked to Wesley for guidance; but, in this respect, Wesley as yet was an incompetent instructor.
Ingham mentions his teaching forty-two children how to read, and his Sunday meetings among the poor people at Osset. Such efforts to improve his neighbours deserve to be commended; and it is a pleasant duty to relate, that, his benevolent endeavours were attended with great success. Numbers of persons were convinced of their lost condition as sinners: and thus was commenced a religious movement akin to that, which, eight years afterwards, seemed to upheave a large portion of the West Riding of the county of York.
Notwithstanding his prayers, fasts, scripture reading, and diligence, Ingham was not happy; and no wonder. He was a conscientious, earnest Pharisee, seeking to be saved by works of righteousness, rather than by penitential faith in Christ. The following letter, also addressed to Wesley, and written nine months after the former one, shows how dissatisfied he was with his present religious state; and reveals a scrupulousness of conscience in reference to shooting and Quakers, which is somewhat amusing:—
“Osset, November 30, 1734.
“Rev. Sir,—Such is the wretchedness of my station at present, that, if I durst, shame would persuade me to conceal it from my best friends. God, of His great goodness, has been pleased to chastise me, for my sins, with an ague. I am afraid, I shall make but a very indifferent use of this Fatherly correction. It may justly be expected that I should be more dead to the world, and filled with more fervent longings and thirstings after God; that my diligence would have been quickened, and my devotion inflamed. But, alas! sir, I am become more sensual, more indulgent, and more subject to vanity. To early prayer I am now a stranger. I think it well to rise at seven. In my sickness, my thoughts, for the most part, were monstrous and trifling. I would fain make my distemper an excuse; and, though it weakened my body, it is strange that it should disorder my soul. To give you one instance of my weakness: When I was pretty well recovered, I could not deny myself so much as to walk out for my health; and yet, with but little persuasion, I went several times a shooting. Nay, I thought it necessary, though I had renounced it. But it pleased God graciously to let my distemper relapse, which took away the power, though not the desire of going.
“At present, I keep altogether at home, scarcely stirring out of doors. My eyes are weak; yet I am in a fair way of recovering my bodily health. The only thing in which I have not been much deficient, is in teaching the children, and conversing at night with the neighbours, when able to do it. And, indeed, this has been a means of saving myself from utterly sinking. God hath been pleased to bless my weak endeavours with pretty good success; and, I find, that, He manifests the effects when we least expect it, hereby telling us that not our endeavours, but His Almighty arm doth the work.
“The honest rugmaker makes very slow advances in learning. I think to dissuade him from it, unless you advise me to the contrary.