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Story of John Wesley Told to Boys and Girls

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<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2> <div class="blockquot"><p>Going to sleep.—How John Wesley missed his brother.—A good man's tears.—Getting old.—Mr. Wesley's text for the children.—Last words in Manchester.—In Colchester.—A dinner-hour meeting.—The old ash tree.</p> </div> <div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/cap-n.png" width-obs="98" height-obs="100" alt="N" title="" /></div> <div class='unindent'><br/>OW I must come to what seems to the young a very sad time. When we are strong and healthy, and can enjoy all the things God has given us to enjoy in this beautiful world, death does seem very sad and sorrowful. But think, dear young readers, how you feel when you have been playing hard all day, or working at school, and perhaps gone to a party in the evening and have not got to bed until 10 o'clock. Is it not very nice and very comforting to lay your head on your soft pillow and go to sleep? Now this is just how God's people feel when they are tired of life's work, they just close their eyes and fall asleep, "asleep in Jesus." This is how Mr. Charles Wesley passed away when he was eighty years old.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</SPAN></span> Though four years younger than Mr. John, he seemed the older man, for he had been weak and infirm for a long time. The two brothers had loved each other dearly, and Mr. Wesley felt very lonely when "Charlie" died.</div> <p>Three weeks afterwards, Mr. Wesley, preaching at Bolton, gave out for his second hymn No. 140, a hymn composed by Mr. Charles. He tried to read the first verse, but when he came to the words</p> <div class='poem'> "My company before is gone,<br/> <span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And I am left alone with Thee,"</span><br/></div> <div class='unident'>he could get no further, but just burst into tears, and sat down in the pulpit, burying his face in his hands. The singing ceased, and numbers of the congregation wept in sympathy at sight of their dear leader's sorrow. At last Mr. Wesley recovered himself, and went on with the service, which was never forgotten by any of those who were present.</div> <p>Very soon after this, Mr. Wesley began to feel weak and feeble. Again his birthday month came round, the sunny month of June, and on the 17th he wrote: "I am eighty-six to-day, and I find I grow old. My eyes are so dim that no spectacles will help me, and I cannot read small print except in a very strong light. My strength fails me so that I walk much slower than I used to do." He was now, for the first time for forty years, obliged to give up his five o'clock morning sermons, and was only able to preach twice a day. As the months went by, he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</SPAN></span> grew weaker and more infirm. Once, as the old man tottered up the pulpit stairs, the whole congregation burst into tears.</p> <p>On Valentine's Day, in 1790, he preached one of his last sermons to his <i>little</i> followers. He chose for his text: "Come, ye children, hearken unto Me: I will teach you the fear of the Lord." The boys and girls flocked from everywhere to hear him, and many who had never loved Jesus before, heard Him speaking to them through His dear servant; and answering the loving call, came, and from that day became Christ's faithful little soldiers.</p> <p>In the same year, when he was eighty-seven years old, he spent a week-end in Manchester, and spoke his last words to his followers there. He preached in the old chapel in Oldham Street on the Saturday night, and the next day, which was Easter Sunday (April 4th), he assisted in giving the Sacrament to sixteen hundred members, and preached both night and morning without feeling tired.</p> <p>A few months later he preached at Colchester; but he was so infirm that a minister had to stand on each side of him, and hold him up. His voice was feeble and low, and many of the congregation could not hear him; but his calm, beautiful face, and long white hair formed a picture that the children and grown-up people in Colchester never forgot.</p> <p>It was in this same year, 1790, that he preached for the last time in the open air. It was in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</SPAN></span> Winchelsea, and the time was October, the month when nuts and apples are asking to be gathered, and when the leaves put on their loveliest dress.</p> <p>As Mr. Wesley felt his time on earth was drawing to a close, he was all the more eager to "tell to all around, what a dear Saviour he had found," and how they might find Him too. So he preached at twelve o'clock noon, the dinner hour of the workmen, in order that they too might have a chance of hearing the good news. A large oak dining-table was brought into the churchyard, and there, under the shade of an old ash tree, John Wesley gave his last message to those working men. "<i>The kingdom of Heaven is at hand; repent ye, and believe the Gospel</i>," was his text, and as he preached, the tears of the people flowed down their cheeks.</p> <p>Long, long afterwards the old ash tree was known as "Wesley's Tree," and the vicar of Winchelsea had hard work to keep it from being cut to pieces; for Methodists use to come from all parts to cut a twig in remembrance of that last scene in the life of the venerable field-preacher.</p> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-185.png" width-obs="103" height-obs="104" alt="Harp" title="" /></div> <hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</SPAN></span></p> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-021.png" width-obs="563" height-obs="189" alt="Decoration" title="" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />

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