PRESIDENT NOT BISHOP; OR, "KEEP MY RULES, NOT MEND THEM.”
“Heaven waits not the last moment; owns her friends
On this side death, and points them out to men.”
“All his prospects brightening to the last,
His heaven commences ere this world be past.”
“HAVE you heard the news from America?' asked one preacher of another, as they met for conference in the Foundry, then as now the Mecca of Methodism.
“About Whitfield's death, do you mean? I am heartily sorry, for Whitfield was all afire to save souls and serve Christ. So humble and loving too! How John Wesley will miss him!”
“Yes, he is much cut to the heart by the tidings, but I did not refer so much to Whitfield," said his friend. "I mean that it is reported that the American Methodists have appointed one of their preachers to be a bishop.”
“Indeed! Who is he'”
“Asbury. And Wesley has written to them: 'I study to be little; you study to be great. I creep; you strut along. I found a school; you found a college. Oh beware Do not seek to be something. Let me be nothing, and Christ be all in all! How can you—how dare you—suffer yourself to be called a bishop? I shudder, I start at the very thought. Men call me a knave or a fool, a rascal, a scoundrel, and I am content; but they shall never, by my consent, call me a BISHOP!’ ”
“Yes, he loves to cleave to the Church. Are you going to take tea with John Wesley in his house to-night? You know that he invites a few preachers to do so.”
“No; I went last evening; but, do you know, as we sat round the great teapot, holding nearly a gallon, I felt so stupid I could not look at him, and kept reading the grace, which is, as you know, printed upon the sides of the teapot in blue lines upon the white ground, and kept saying over to myself:
“Be present at our table, Lord;
Be here and everywhere adored.
These creatures bless, and grant that we
May feast in paradise with Thee.'
Just then he turned the teapot round, and as a sign that we had finished, pointed to the grace printed on the other side of the big teapot:
“' We thank Thee, Lord, for this our food,
But more because of Jesus' blood;
Let manna to our souls be given,
The bread of life tent down from heaven.'
“One of our preachers now spoke up, and said he: ' Mr. Wesley, Mr. 'Wesley! if we are to live in harmony, brethren must not find fault.'
“What is the matter, John?' asked Mr. Wesley.
“Oh,' said he, pointing to me, Joseph has been telling me of this and that; I can never please him. What have my faults to do with Joseph?”
“What did Wesley say?”
“He smiled sweetly and quietly said: If any brother sees any fault in me, I'll thank him to tell me of it.' John said nothing, and I felt so relieved that the matter was ended.”
“Just like him. John Wesley is the man to heal a difference. A true peacemaker I am sure he is.”
“But come, make haste; we shall be late for the conference," said one of the two, and they both hurried along to take their seats.
“Dear brethren," said Wesley, the president, after all the members of the conference were assembled," I pray you be in earnest. I well remember Dr. Lufton saying that his father once, while visiting one of his dying parishioners, said to him, Thomas, where will your soul go to when you die?' My soul, sir?' asked the man. Yes; you know what your soul is?' Ay, surely, sir; 'tis a little bone in the back that lives longer than the rest of the body I' So much had he gained from forty years of sermons, and of good sermons tool Be plain, brethren; I will be plain with you. Are you each saved? Are you each relying upon the finished work of Christ for salvation? Let no man in the least trust in his office, or his relations, or in anything but the blood of Christ. It is faith in the atonement that saves the soul, and faith alone! Let every man search his own heart. I, for one, trust alone in Christ.”
After the deep silence which ensued as each man was looking into his own secret thoughts, Wesley broke silence by saying—"Our beloved brother, Fletcher of Madeley, is about to visit us. He is very ill in body but as holy as ever. Here he is.”
The assembly rose as Fletcher entered the large room—pale, emaciated, and feeble—leaning heavily on the arm of a friend. Wesley hastened to meet him, and led him to the top of the room.
The apparently dying man looked upon the company of preachers for a few seconds, and, with tears running down his thin, wasted cheeks, said—“Oh, beloved brethren, when we come to draw as near to the heavenly world as I am now, earth's toys and prizes are seen to be empty and vain. Live in Christ, I charge you. Preach Christ and feast upon His word. Oh, the delights that I have known while communing with Him in the solitude of my chamber! How sweetly near hath He been to me! How my heart hath been ravished by His love, and how tenderly bath He healed my wounds! Such sins! Such unbelief! But, oh, what grace and what abounding mercy! Beloved, there is naught but Christ worth living for; but, oh, what a treasure Christ is in Himself! We must go into deep trouble, sickness, or pain to be able to appreciate the sweetness and value of His love, but how His comforts increase when we have no other friend! I charge you that you make Him your first thought; that in all things you seek to live so as to praise Him and to bring glory to His name. Oh, my Christ I when shall I see Thee face to face? When shall I see Thee as Thou art? Come, Lord Jesus! yea, come quickly!”
Fearing that the excitement might prove too much for his friend, Wesley knelt upon the floor. All present followed his example and the president began—
“O Lord our God, have mercy upon us! Thou art our hope and our salvation! We thank Thee for our beloved friend Fletcher. We pray Thee to spare him to us a little. We need him, O Lord our God. Think of the unbelief, the worldliness, the sin, the vileness of the earth, and make bare Thine arm, O Lord! Arm of the Lord, awake, awake! Bestir Thyself, O our God, and raise us many preachers for England! If it please Thee, spare Fletcher to the good work of salvation; spare his life and raise him up speedily.”
Then after a moment of thrilling silence, Wesley burst out into a rapture, and cried— “He shall not die, but live and declare the works of the Lord.”
All sprang to their feet and united in singing the verse which has often given vent to united Christian joy—
“Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below,
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host,
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.”
Fletcher of Madeley did not die, but for eight years after continued his gentle, holy ministry before he entered the mansions above.