”1760, October 28. All the little circumstances of my institution and induction have taken such an easy turn, that I question whether any clergyman ever got over them with less trouble. I preached last Sunday, for the first time, in my church, and shall continue to do so, though I propose staying with Mr. Hill till he leaves the country, which will be, I suppose, in a fortnight, partly to comply with him to the last, and partly to avoid falling out with my predecessor, who is still at Madeley, but who will remove about the same time.
”Among many little providences, I shall mention one to your ladyship. The Bishop having unexpectedly sent me word to go to him for institution without delay, if I wished not to be at the trouble of following him to London, I set out in haste for Hereford, where I arrived the day before his lordship’s departure. As I went along, I thought that if my going to Madeley was from the Lord, it was providential that I should thus be called to be instituted in the country, for were it to be in London, Sir Peter Rivers, the Bishop’s chaplain, who examined me for orders, and who made so much noise last summer in West Street Chapel, where he found me preaching, would infallibly defeat the end of my journey, according to his threatenings. Thus did worldly wisdom work in my heart; but no divination can stand against the God of Jacob, who is a jealous God, and does not give His glory to another. A clergyman, named Sir Dutton Colt, came to see the Bishop just as I entered the palace, and the secretary, coming to him, said in my hearing, ‘Sir Peter is just come from London to take possession of a prebend, which the Bishop has given him; he is now in the palace; how do you rank with him?’ My surprise was great, for a moment, and my first thought was to ride away without institution; but, having gone too far to retreat, I had an instant strength from on high to be still and see the salvation of the Lord. My second thought was to thank God for sending this man from London in that point of time to defeat Mr. Hill’s design; and, easily throwing up Madeley, I cried for strength to make a good confession before the high priest and the scribe; and I felt I had it, but I was not called to use it, for the Bishop was alone, the ceremony was over in ten minutes, and Sir Peter did not come in till after. I met him at the door of the Bishop’s room, and a wig I had on that day prevented his recollecting who I was. Your ladyship cannot conceive how thankful I was for this little incident, not because I was not disappointed of a living, but because I saw and felt, that, had I been disappointed, it would have been no disappointment to me.
”If I know anything of myself, I shall be much more ready to resign my benefice, when I have had a fair trial of my unprofitableness to the people committed to my care, than I was to accept it. Mr. John Wesley bids me do it without a trial. He will have me ‘see the devil’s snare, and fly from it at the peril of my soul.’ I answer, I cannot see it in that light. He adds, ‘Others may do well in a living; you cannot; it is not your calling.’ I tell him, I readily own that I am not fit to plant or water any part of the Lord’s vineyard; but that if I am called at all, I am called to preach at Madeley, where I was first sent into the ministry, and where a chain of providences, I could not break, has again fastened me; and that, though I may be as unsuccessful as Noah, yet I am determined to try to be there a preacher of Christ’s righteousness; and that, notwithstanding my inability, I am not without hopes, that He who reproved a prophet’s madness by the mouth of an ass, may reprove a collier’s profaneness even by my mouth.
”I reserve for another letter an account of my own soul, and of what begins to be as dear to me as my own soul—my parish.”[[68]]
The other letter, here promised, was written three weeks later. The following is an extract from it:—
“Tern, November 19, 1760.
“I have hitherto written my sermons, but I am carried so far beyond my notes when in the pulpit, that I propose preaching with only my sermon-case in my hand next Friday, when I shall venture on an evening lecture for the first time. I question whether I shall have above half-a-dozen hearers; but I am resolved to try.
“The weather and the roads are so bad, that the way to the church is almost impracticable; nevertheless all the seats were full last Sunday. Some begin to come from adjacent parishes, and some more (as they say) threaten to come when the season permits.
“I cannot yet discern any deep work, or indeed anything but what will always attend the crying down of man’s righteousness, and the insisting upon Christ’s—I mean a general liking among the poor; and offence, ridicule, and opposition among the ‘reputable’ and ‘wise’ people. Should the Lord vouchsafe to plant the Gospel in this county, my parish seems to be the best spot for the centre of such a work, as it lies among the most populous, profane, and ignorant.
“But it is well if, after all, there is any work in my parish. I despair even of this, when I look at myself, and quite fall in with Mr. John Wesley’s opinion about me; though I sometimes hope the Lord has not sent me here for nothing. I am, however, fully determined to resign my living, if the Lord does not think me worthy to be His instrument. I abhor the title of a living for a living’s sake; it is death to me.