Sunday, June 30, 2013

Marauding


Monday, June 14.--I rode to Cork. Here I procured an exact account of the late commotions. About the beginning of December last, a few men met by night near Nenagh, in the county of Limerick, and threw down the fences of some commons, which had been lately inclosed. Near the same time the others met in the county of Tipperary, of Waterford, and of Cork. As no one offered to suppress or hinder them, they increased in number continually and called themselves Whiteboys, wearing white cockades and white linen frocks. In February, there were five or six parties of them, two or three hundred men in each, who moved up and down, chiefly in the night; but for what end did not appear. Only they leveled a few fences, dug up some grounds, and hamstrung some cattle, perhaps fifty or sixty in all.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Saturday, June 29, 2013

Alight


Monday, 24.--l went with two friends to see one of the greatest natural wonders in Ireland--Mount Eagle, vulgarly called Crow Patrick. The foot of it is fourteen miles from Castlebar. There we left our horses and procured a guide. It was just twelve when we alighted; the sun was burning hot, and we had not a breath of wind. Part of the ascent was a good deal steeper than an ordinary pair of stairs. About two we gained the top, which is an oval, grassy plain, about a hundred and fifty yards in length and seventy or eighty in breadth. The upper part of the mountain much resembles the Peak of Teneriffe. I think it cannot rise much less than a mile perpendicular from the plain below. There is an immense prospect on one side toward the sea, and on the other over the land. But as most of it is waste and uncultivated, the prospect is not very pleasing.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Staple of life yields to Bread of Life


Monday, May 3 (Sligo).--In the evening a company of players began acting in the upper part of the market house, just as we began singing in the lower. The case of these is remarkable. The Presbyterians for a long time had their public worship here; but when the strollers came to town, they were turned out and from that time had no public worship at all. On Tuesday evening the lower part too was occupied by buyers and sellers of oatmeal; but as soon as I began, the people quitted their sacks and listened to business of greater importance. 

The Journal of John Wesley

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Hospitality & Shelter Anyway


Between six and seven I preached at Coot Hill, and in the morning rode on to Enniskillin. After riding round and round, we came in the evening to a lone house called Carrick-a-beg. It lay in the midst of horrid mountains; and had no very promising appearance. However, it afforded corn for our horses and potatoes for us. So we made a hearty supper, called in as many as pleased of the family to prayers, and, though we had no fastening either for our doors or our windows, slept in peace.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Homeland Security, ICE, Cops nothing new here. Ugh!


Wednesday, 28.--In the morning I rode to Monaghan. The commotions in Munster having now alarmed all Ireland, we had hardly alighted, when some wise persons informed the provost there were three strange sort of men come to the King's Arms. So the provost with his officers came without delay to secure the north from so imminent a danger. I had just come out when I was required to return into the house. The provost asked me many questions, and perhaps the affair might have turned serious had I not had two letters with me which I had lately received; one from the Bishop of Londonderry, the other from the Earl of Moira. Upon reading these, he excused himself for the trouble he had given and wished me a good journey.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Monday, June 24, 2013

Inventive but Frustrated


Monday, April 26.--In the evening I preached to a large congregation in the market house at Lurgan. I now embraced the opportunity which I bad long desired of talking with Mr. Miller, the contriver of that statue which was in Lurgan when I was there before. It was the figure of an old man standing in a case, with a curtain drawn before him, over against a clock which stood on the other side of the room. Every time the clock struck, he opened the door with one hand, drew back the curtain with the other, turned his head, as if looking round on the company, and then said with a clear, loud, articulate voice, "Past one, two, three," and so on. But so many came to see this (the like of which all allowed was not to be seen in Europe) that Mr. Miller was in danger of being ruined, not having time to attend his own business; so, as none offered to purchase it or reward him for his pains, he took the whole machine in pieces; nor has he any thought of ever making anything of the kind again.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Return to Ireland by sea


Friday, April 2.--I rode to Parkgate, and found several ships, but the wind was contrary. I preached at five in the small house they have just built; and the hearers were remarkably serious. I gave notice of preaching at five in the morning. But at half-hour after four one brought us word that the wind was come fair, and Captain Jordan would sail in less than an hour. We were soon in the ship, wherein we found about three-score passengers. The sun shone brightly, the wind was moderate, the sea smooth, and we wanted nothing but room to stir ourselves; the cabin being filled with hops, so that we could not get into it but by climbing over them on our hands and knees. In the afternoon we were abreast of Holyhead. But the scene was quickly changed: the wind rose higher and higher and by seven o'clock blew a storm. The sea broke over us continually and sometimes covered the ship, which both pitched and rolled in an uncommon manner. So I was informed; for, being a little sick, I lay down at six, and slept with little intermission, till nearly six in the morning. We were then near Dublin Bay, where we went into a boat which carried us to Dunleary. There we met with a chaise just ready, in which we went to Dublin. 

The Journal of John Wesley

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Almost unhorsed by high winds


The wind grew still higher in the afternoon so that it was difficult to sit our horses; and it blew full in our face, but could not prevent our reaching Chester in the evening. Though the warning was short, the room was full; and full of serious, earnest hearers, many of whom expressed a longing desire of the whole salvation of God. Here I rested on Thursday.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Friday, June 21, 2013

A Gospel Comedy


I came, but the person who invited me was gone--gone out of town at four in the morning. I could find no one who seemed either to expect or desire my company. I inquired after the place where Mr. Mather preached; but it was filled with hemp. It remained only to go into the market house, but neither any man, woman, nor child cared to follow us; for the north wind roared so loud on every side and poured in from every quarter. However, before I had done singing, two or three crept in; and after them, two or three hundred; and the power of God was so present among them that I believe many forgot the storm.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Straining, breaking traces in mud & snow


Wednesday, 31.--Having been invited to preach at Wem, Mrs. Glynne desired she might take me thither in a post chaise; but in little more than an hour we were fast enough; however, the horses pulled till the traces broke. I should then have walked had I been alone, though the mud was deep, and the snow drove impetuously; but I could not leave my friend. So I waited patiently till the man had made shift to rnend the traces; and the horses pulled amain so that with much ado, not long after the time appointed, I came to Wem.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

We don't control it


In the afternoon we had such a storm of hail as I scarcely ever saw in my life. The roads likewise were so extremely bad that we did not reach Hereford till past eight. Having been well battered both by hail, rain, and wind, I got to bed as soon as I could, but was wakened many times by the clattering of the curtains. In the morning I found the casement wide open; but I was never the worse. I took horse at six, with William Crane and Francis Walker. The wind was piercing cold, and we had many showers of snow and rain; but the worst was, part of the road was scarcely passable; so that at Church Stretton, one of our horses lay down and would go no farther. However, William Crane and I pushed on, and before seven reached Shrewsbury.

A large company quickly gathered together. Many of them were wild enough, but the far greater part were calm and attentive and came again at five in the morning. 

The Journal of John Wesley

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Wrestlingworth- really


1762. Monday, January 4.--After preaching to a large congregation at Wrestlingworth, we rode on to Harston. I never preached a whole sermon by moonlight before. However, it was a solemn season; a season of holy mourning to some; to others, of joy unspeakable.

Monday, March 29.--I preached about twelve in the new room at Chepstow. One of the congregation was a neighboring clergyman, who had lived in the same staircase with me at Christ Church and was then far more serious than I. Blessed be God, who has looked upon me at last! Now let me redeem the time!

The Journal of John Wesley

Monday, June 17, 2013

The Best Employment


Friday, 25 (London).--We began, as usual, at four. A few days since, one who lived in known sin, finding heavy conviction broke away and ran out, she knew, not whither. She met one who offered her a shilling a week to come and take care of her child. She went gladly. The woman's husband hearing her stir between three and four began cursing and swearing bitterly. His wife said, "I wish thou wouldest go with her, and see if anything will do thee good." He did so. In the first hymn God broke his heart and he was in tears all the rest of the service. How soon did God recompense this poor woman for taking the stranger in.

The Journal of John Wesley

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Observing while on the way


Saturday, November 14.--l spent an hour with a little company near Grosvenor Square. For many years this has been the darkest, driest spot of all in or near London. But God has now watered the barren wilderness and it has become a fruitful field.

Preaching at Deptford, Welling, and Sevenoaks, in my way, on Thursday, December 3, I came to Shoreham. There I read the celebrated Life of St. Katherine, of Genoa. Mr. Lesley calls one "a devil of a saint": I am sure this was a fool of a saint; that is, if it was not the folly of her historian, who has aggrandized her into a mere idiot. Indeed we seldom find a saint of God's making, sainted by the Bishop of Rome. 

The Journal of John Wesley

Saturday, June 15, 2013

The steeple at Boston, England


Thursday, August 13.--l took a walk through Boston. I think it is not much smaller than Leeds, but, in general, it is far better built. The church is indeed a fine building. It is larger, loftier, nay, and rather more lightsome, than even St. Peter's at Norwich; and the steeple is, I suppose, the highest tower in England, nor less remarkable for the architecture than the height.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Friday, June 14, 2013

Founding Father Faith Defect


Many of our friends were come from various parts. At six I preached standing under the hollow of a rock, on one side of a small plain, on the other side of which was a tall mountain. There were many well-dressed hearers, this being the high season; and all of them behaved well. But as I walked back, a gentleman-like man asked me, "Why do you talk thus of faith? Stuff, nonsensel" Upon inquiry, I found he was an eminent deist. What, has the plague crept into the Peak of Derbyshire?

The Journal of John Wesley 

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Never triflingly employed, never bored


Monday, July 27.--l preached at Staincross about eleven; about five, at Barley Hall; the next morning at Sheffield. In the afternoon I rode on to Matlock Bath. The valley which reaches from the town to the bath is pleasant beyond expression. In the bottom of this runs a little river, close to which a mountain rises, almost perpendicular, to an enormous height; part is covered with green, part with ragged and naked rocks. On the other side, the mountain rises gradually with tufts of trees here and there. The brow on both sides is fringed with trees, which seem to answer each other.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Only one or two were angry and threw stones...


Sunday, 5.--Believing one hindrance of the work of God in York was the neglect of field- preaching, I preached this morning at eight, in an open place near the city walls. Abundance of people ran together, most of whom were deeply attentive. One or two only were angry and threw a few stones; but it was labor lost; for none regarded them.

Sunday, 12.--I had appointed to be at Haworth; but the church would not nearly contain the people who came from all sides. However, Mr. Grimshaw had provided for this by fixing a scaffold on the outside of one of the windows, through which I went after prayers, and the people likewise all went out into the churchyard. The afternoon congregation was larger still. What has God wrought in the midst of those rough mountains! 

The Journal of John Wesley

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Eloquent Despair


O England, England! will this reproach never be rolled away from thee? Is there anything like this to be found, either among Papists, Turks, or heathens? In the name of truth, justice, mercy, and common sense I ask, 1) Why do men lie for lying sake? Is it only to keep their hands in? What need else of saying it was the port of London when everyone knew the brandy was landed above three hundred miles from thence? What a monstrous contempt of truth does this show, or rather hatred to it! 2) Where is the justice of swelling four pounds into five hundred and seventy-seven? 3) Where is the common sense of taking up fourteen sheets to tell a story that may be told in ten lines? 4) Where is the mercy of thus grinding the face of the poor? thus sucking the blood of a poor, beggared prisoner? Would not this be execrable villainy if the paper and writing together were only sixpence a sheet, when they have stripped him already of his little all and not left him fourteen groats in the world?

The Journal of John Wesley 

Monday, June 10, 2013

Engaged with the world, Committed to the Gospel


Thursday, 25.--I had a pleasant ride to Scarborough, the wind tempering the heat of the sun. I had designed to preach abroad in the evening; but the thunder, lightning, and rain prevented. However, I stood on a balcony, and several hundreds of people stood below; and, notwithstanding the heavy rain, would not stir till I concluded.

 Friday, July 3.--We returned to York, where I was desired to call upon a poor prisoner in the castle. I had formerly occasion to take notice of a hideous monster, called a chancery bill; I now saw the fellow to it, called a declaration. The plain fact was this: some time since a man who lived near Yarm assisted others in running some brandy. His share was nearly four pounds. After he had wholly left off that bad work and was following his own business, that of a weaver, he was arrested and sent to York gaol; and, not long after, comes down a declaration, "that Jac. Wh--- had landed a vessel laded with brandy and Geneva, at the port of London, and sold them there, whereby he was indebted to his Majesty five hundred and seventy-seven pounds and upwards." And to tell this worthy story, the lawyer takes up thirteen or fourteen sheets of treble stamped paper.

The Journal of John Wesley

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Cat Accustomed


Wednesday, 24.--l walked round the old Abbey, which, both with regard to its size (being, I judge, a hundred yards long) and the workmanship of it, is one of the finest, if not the finest, ruin in the kingdom. Hence we rode to Robin Hood's Bay, where I preached at six in the Lower Street, near the quay. In the midst of the sermon a large cat, frightened out of a chamber, leaped down upon a woman's head, and ran over the heads or shoulders of many more; but none of them moved or cried out any more than if it had been a butterfly.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Strong Legs, determined preacher


Tuesday, 23.--I began about five, near the same place, and had a great part of the same audience; yet they were not the same. The change might easily be read in their countenance. When we took horse and just faced the sun, it was hard work for man and beast; but about eight the wind shifted, and blowing in our face, kept us cool till we came to Whitby.

In the evening I preached on the top of the hill, to which you ascend by a hundred ninety-one steps. The congregation was exceedingly large, and ninety-nine in a hundred were attentive. When I began, the sun shone full in my face; but he soon clouded and shone no more till I had done. 

The Journal of John Wesley

Friday, June 7, 2013

All Right Now but for Stinking Fish


Monday, 22.--I spoke, one by one, to the society at Hutton Rudby. At eleven I preached once more, though in great weakness of body, and met the stewards of all the societies. I then rode to Stokesley and, having examined the little society, went on for Guisborough. The sun was burning hot; but in a quarter of an hour a cloud interposed, and he troubled us no more. I was desired by a gentleman of the town to preach in the market place; and there a table was placed for me, but it was in a bad neighborhood; for there was so vehement a stench of stinking fish as was ready to suffocate me, and the people roared like the waves of the sea. But the voice of the Lord was mightier, and in a few minutes the whole multitude was still and seriously attended while I proclaimed "Jesus Christ, made of God unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption" [1 Cor. 1:30].

The Journal of John Wesley 

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Sensationalism and the Gospel


Sunday, 21.--I rode to Osmotherley, where the minister read prayers seriously and preached a useful sermon. After service I began in the churchyard: I believe many were wounded and many comforted. After dinner I called on Mr. Adams, who first invited me to Osmotherley. He was reading the strange account of the two missionaries who have lately made such a figure in the newspapers. I suppose the whole account is just such another gross imposition upon the public as the man's gathering the people together to see him go into the quart bottle. "Men seven hundred years old!" And why not seven yards high? He that can believe it, let him believe it.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Crowded Throngs


Friday, 19.--It was hard work to ride eight miles (so called) in two hours and a half, the rain beating upon us, and the by-road being exceedingly slippery. But we forgot all this when we came to the Grange, so greatly was God present with His people. Thence we rode to Darlington. Here we were under a difficulty again; not half the people could come in, and the rain forbade my preaching without. But at one (the hour of preaching) the rain stopped and did not begin again till past two; so the people stood very conveniently in the yard, and many did not care to go away. When I went in, they crowded to the door and windows, and stayed till I took horse. At seven I preached at Yarm, and desired one of our brethren to take my place in the morning. 

The Journal of John Wesley

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

A fair assessment


Monday, June 15.--l rode to Durham, having appointed to preach there at noon. The meadow, near the riverside, was quite convenient, and the small rain neither disturbed me nor the congregation. In the afternoon I rode to Hartlepool. But I had much ado to preach; my strength was gone as well as my voice; and indeed, they generally go together. Three days in a week I can preach thrice a day without hurting myself; but I had now far exceeded this, besides meeting classes and exhorting the societies. I was obliged to lie down a good part of Tuesday. However, in the afternoon I preached at Cherington, and in the evening at Hartlepool again, though not without difficulty. Wednesday, 17. I rode to Stockton, where, a little before the time of preaching, my voice and strength were restored at once. The next evening it began to rain just as I began to preach; but it was suspended till the service was over; it then rained again till eight in the morning.

The Journal of John Wesley 

Monday, June 3, 2013

John Wesley Rested

So what did you think he was doing on days between Journal entries. Yes he was ambitious-- prodigious-- genius. But that's powered by useful rest.

So I am doing today. See you with another installment of the Journal tomorrow.

The Journal of Greg Crispell

Sunday, June 2, 2013

John Wesley Reality Tour


Monday, 11.--I took my leave of Edinburgh for the present. The situation of the city, on a hill shelving down on both sides, as well as to the east, with the stately castle upon a craggy rock on the west, is inexpressibly fine. And the main street, so broad and finely paved, with the lofty houses on either hand (many of them seven or eight stories high), is far beyond any in Great Britain. But how can it be suffered that all manner of filth should still be thrown even into this street continually? Where are the magistracy, the gentry, the nobility of the land? Have they no concern for the honor of their nation? How long shall the capital city of Scotland, yea, and the chief street of it, stink worse than a common sewer? Will no lover of his country, or of decency and common sense, find a remedy for this?

Holyrood House, at the entrance of Edinburgh, the ancient palace of the Scottish kings, is a noble structure. It was rebuilt and furnished by King Charles the Second. One side of it is a picture gallery wherein are pictures of all the Scottish kings, and an original one of the celebrated Queen Mary. It is scarcely possible for any who looks at this to think her such a monster as some have painted her; nor indeed for any who considers the circumstances of her death, equal to that of an ancient martyr. 

The Journal of John Wesley

Saturday, June 1, 2013

So his voice improved with use


Tuesday, 5.--I accepted the principal's invitation, and spent an hour with him at his house. I observed no stiffness at all, but the easy good breeding of a man of sense and learning. I suppose both he and all the professors, with some of the magistrates, attended in the evening. I set all the windows open; but the hall, notwithstanding, was as hot as a bagnio.

Wednesday, 6.--At half-hour after six I stood in the College Close and proclaimed Christ crucified. My voice was so strengthened that all could hear, and all were earnestly attentive. 

The Journal of John Wesley

"Bagnio" is an obsolete descriptive noun to characterize a place as an involuntary prison or brothel; may have been a commonplace colloquial that is unfamiliar to modern readers.