At the end of the year 1748, after many more perils, we find Wesley again in London, where strange things had happened, which I will relate to you.
About a fortnight before Wesley returned there, six men had been hanged, after having been imprisoned for a time in Newgate. I told you before that people were hanged in those days for very slight offenses (although as we have seen, they were neither hanged nor punished in any way for murdering Methodists). One man, a few years later than the time I am telling you about, was hanged for stopping two women in the street, when he and his family were starving, and asking for money. He used no violence; but merely took the twopence which one woman, and the fourpence which the other woman, gave him. He was a man of good character. The six men who were hanged just before Wesley came to London in the autumn of 1748 had all been thieves. They were visited in Newgate by a Methodist called Silas Told, who had been a sailor, but was now chiefly employed as a sort of unpaid City Missionary. Another Methodist, called Sarah Peters, also visited the prisoners, though she was warned not to do so on account of a fever which was raging in the prison, called the “gaol distemper.” It seems to have been an illness common in goals, on account of the dirty, unhealthy state in which they were then kept. Silas and Sarah told the poor condemned prisoners of the love of Christ. They told them of the thief who was saved on the cross; of the sinful woman who washed the Saviour’s feet with her tears, because He had forgiven her all her sins. They told them how David the murderer, and Peter the liar, and Paul the persecutor, had been washed from their sins in the precious blood of Christ, and were now gone to be with Him in Paradise. Five of the six men seem to have believed the blessed tidings. When the morning came for their execution, they praised God together for all that He had done for them, that He had brought them to Newgate, where they had heard of the love of Christ, and that He was now taking them home to be with Him forever. They prayed once more, but not this time for themselves; their prayer was that the gospel of Christ might be preached far and wide, that souls might be saved, that God would reward the Methodists who had told them of Christ, that John and Charles Wesley might be blessed in their labors, and that the officers of the prison, who stood around might be found by the Saviour who came to seek and save, and brought to the glory. As they were taken in the cart to the gallows, one of them said to the others, “Come, dear friends, let us go on joyfully, for the Lord is making ready to receive us into everlasting habitations.” At the gallows, one of them, John Lancaster (who was hanged for stealing a piece of velvet), gave out a hymn with a clear, strong voice. And thus with joy and praise they departed to be with Christ. It may be well to mention that John Lancaster was not altogether ignorant of the gospel when he came to Newgate, though he had never believed in Jesus so as to be saved. When a lad, he had attended the meetings at the Foundry, but had been led away by sinful companions. His first downward step was going to play skittles on the Lord’s Day. Some who read these words may take them as a warning. Sarah Peters soon followed the Newgate prisoners to Paradise. She had caught the gaol distemper, and a fortnight after the execution she fell asleep in Jesus.
Nor was it only amongst the thieves and outcasts of London that God had been saving souls. Whilst Sarah Peters had been telling of Christ in Newgate, Lady Huntingdon had been gathering together in her house in Chelsea large numbers of the upper classes to listen to the same blessed gospel. Mr. Whitefield, Howell Harris, Mr. Wesley, Dr. Doddridge, and other Methodist preachers, had been invited by her to tell the glad tidings to these rich and great ones of the world, who were, alas, as ignorant of Christ as the thieves in Newgate—perhaps more so. Dean Swift who lived but a little while before this, writes, on the subject of the Bible: “I am sensible few of our fine ladies are furnished with this useful book, the same being got entirely into the hands of their servants and other mean people, who are poor enough to be good Christians. I must therefore acquaint the quality that the book called a Bible may be met with at the booksellers, Mr. Baskett having, not long since, ventured upon a new impression, otherwise ‘tis thought Bibles might in a small time have been out of print.” There was, therefore, plenty of reason why Lady Huntingdon should open her house in Park Street, Chelsea, for the preaching of the gospel. Her husband, Lord Huntingdon, had died in the year 1746, and two years before she had lost two of her boys, George and Ferdinand, by smallpox. Thus the Lord had been preparing her by much sorrow for much service. She had four children left—Francis and Henry, and Elizabeth and Selina. Her two good sisters-in-law, Lady Anne and Lady Frances Hastings, also lived with her. Lady Betty was dead, and Lady Margaret had married Mr. Ingham, as I told you before. Many of the nobility came to Lady Huntingdon’s gospel meetings. Some had, besides this, frequently attended Mr. Whitefield’s preaching at the Tabernacle, a building which had been opened for him in Moorfields. Amongst these were Frederick, Prince of Wales, and his brother William, Duke of Cumberland. But, alas, it is easy to be “almost persuaded” to be a Christian, and never to be saved at last. Whether the Prince of Wales ever went further than being almost persuaded we do not know. It is said that one day at Court he inquired of Lady Charlotte Edwin where Lady Huntingdon was, as she was so seldom to be seen. “Praying with her beggars, I suppose,” said Lady Charlotte, with a sneer. The prince looked grave, and said, “Lady Charlotte, when I am dying, I think I shall be happy to seize the skirt of Lady Huntingdon’s mantle, to lift me up with her to heaven.” Poor prince! to touch the hem of Christ’s garment would have been the better hope. God tells us of the “strong consolation” which those will find “who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us, which we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil,” into Heaven itself; blessed is the soul that is anchored there! Yet there were some who were more than “almost persuaded.” God has said “not many mighty, not many noble, are called.” Lady Huntingdon said she was thankful for the letter “m”. It might have been “not any.” As it was, we hear of some who were willing to share the reproach of Christ with John Nelson and Ned Greenfield. A meeting for prayer and reading the word was held at the houses of six noble ladies, and was attended by others who had learned the love of Christ at Lady Huntingdon’s house. And thus, from the highest to the lowest, many were called, and the gospel of the grace of God was in His great mercy spread abroad, to the salvation of some; but alas! to the condemnation of others. In a letter written to Dr. Doddridge in the year 1747, Lady Huntingdon speaks of the bitter opposition she had to undergo. “Our affronts and persecutions here, are,” she says, “hardly to be described. But alas! these are among those honors that should not be mentioned by me—that so unworthy a mortal should thus be favored by so loving a Father, ought to make me bow down with confusion of face, that He should regard me. Many secret and shameful enemies of the gospel, by His will, appear; the particulars would amuse you, and blessed be God, they rejoice me, as good must follow from it. They called out in the open streets for me, saying, if they had me, they would tear me to pieces, etc., but alas! this does but prove that it is the Lord that offends them, and so must He continue to the unregenerate heart.”
Lady Huntingdon had not only been thus helping forward the Methodists preaching in London, but had taken them about with her to various places, that they might have gospel meetings wherever it seemed to be desirable. During this summer of 1748, she had thus traveled through Wales. Lady Anne, Lady Frances, and her two daughters had been with her. They were now all returned to London.