SAD BUT NOT SORROWFUL; OR, "GOD IS WITH US.”
“How our hearts burned within us at the scene!
Whence this brave bound o'er limits fixed to men
His God sustains him in his final hour
His final hour brings glory to His God!”
COME, child, you are late. Was the service longer this morning?" asked blind Mary as her grandchild entered her cottage one Sunday morning in 1788. Everyone in Bolton knew Mary and her grandchild.
“O granny, I shall never, never forget this morning's service!" said the maiden." We were singing the beautiful hymn you are so fond of—.
'Come, oh thou traveler unknown,'
and Mr. Wesley was giving out the verses; when he came to the two lines—
'My company before is gone.
And I am left alone with Thee!—
he burst out into a bitter cry, and covering his face with his hands, sat down in the pulpit and wept bitterly.”
“Wept! did he? What was his grief?”
“O grandma, Charles Wesley is dead!”
“Dead! Charles Wesley dead! Alas! a prince and a great man has fallen then in Israel. Not like his brother? No! But a mighty man also, and a leader of the host.”
“The singing stopped, and all the people wept together with a bitter lamentation. It was a sight never to be forgotten, to see the great congregation weeping together. Strong men broke down, and wailed like little children.”
“No doubt! No doubt! Ay, he will be missed! Oh to be missed by the people of God I When you die, will the Church of God miss you?”
Gentle reader, when you die, who will miss you, outside the circle of your relatives? The profane, worldly, and godless, or the holy and useful in the earth?
“After a while Mr. Wesley recovered himself, and then, granny, he did preach so beautifully. They are gone,' he said, and we cannot forget them. Nor do we desire to do so. Let us follow them as well as we may. Oh! cleave to Christ with full purpose of heart. Think of the anchors that ought to steady you in the tempests of life. From heaven the great cloud of witnesses hold thee in full survey. They have entered into rest, and are forever with the Lord. Oh, for grace for all to go where they have gone I Beloved, beloved, we will join you, and meet at last a company complete in heaven!’ O granny, I mean to be there in heaven! How can I do so!
“Ay, child, 'tis hard and 'tis easy. It cannot be done in one's own strength; but if you will renounce your own doings and trust in Jesus alone, nothing is easier. Christ does it, child! Christ does it! Ye must be carried to heaven by Jesus Christ, as your mother carried you when you were young. He must do it all for you. Can you trust Him?”
“Yes, I will. I ought. Jesus Christ, my dear Savior, I don't know what to do, but I cast myself upon Thy mercy. Oh, save me, and keep me, and bring me to heaven at last!”
“Amen it shall be so," replied Mary, wiping her eyes. "But ye must watch and pray, and never lose hold of Christ. God save you and keep you from falling.”
Have you, friend and brother, done the same? If not, there is no time like the present to trust in Christ.
Three years of earnest work Wesley was spared to perform after his brother Charles had passed away. With him the malice and prejudice had been lived down, and men began to fulfill, in his case, the promise: "Them that honor Me I will honor." Everywhere, too, Methodists felt that the days of their beloved leader were becoming few below, and like Elisha with Elijah they strove to see as much as they could of the saint about to ascend.
“I am now an old man, decayed from head to foot," he wrote on 1st January, 1790. "My eyes are dim; my right hand shakes much; my mouth is hot and dry every morning; I have a lingering fever almost every day; my motion is weak and slow. However, blessed be God! I do not slack my labor; I can preach and write still." "Lord, let me not live to be useless," he prayed constantly; while to the thronging multitude, who hung upon his lips, the apostle of love gave the ancient command, "Little children, love one another.”
On the 17th of February, 1791, he preached at Lambeth, feeling unwell. He did his work as usual, but upon the following Sunday, 20th February, he was too unwell to preach. On the Monday he dined at Twickenham. On Wednesday he preached at Leather-head his last sermon, appropriately concluding his long labors as a revivalist by a sermon from the text, "Seek ye the Lord while He may be found; call ye upon Him while He is near.”
On Friday morning he returned to City Road, and was put to bed at once. The bedstead stood right up against a fireplace and wardrobe made in the wall.
A small door at the toot of the bed opened into the tiny study, which was a small apartment in the chimney-like buttress behind the house. Beside the bed and behind the door stood a handsome bureau. The doors stood open, and showed that the inner side of each door was covered with portraits of Methodist workers, pasted there by Wesley's own hand. Just within the door of the little study stood a small writing table, which fitted between the doorway and the fireplace. The light fell upon the valued volumes that lined the walls. But Wesley was soon to look upon other books and obtain knowledge where they see the Teacher face to face.
Although thus confined to his room, Wesley's active spirit could not rest. As soon as he became able to use his pen, he sat up in bed and wrote several letters to friends.
On Sunday, February 27, he was well enough to sit up in his chair. He repeated cheerfully—
“Till glad I lay this body down,
Thy servant, Lord, attend;
And oh my life of mercies crown
With a triumphant end!”
He was soon wearied out and lay down.
“There is no need for many words,” he said. "What I said at Bristol I feel now.
‘I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me.'”
“Oh, how necessary it is for everyone to be upon the right foundation, "he exclaimed." We are justified by faith, and then go on to sanctification.”
After a restless night he began to sing—
“Oh, wouldst Thou again be made known,
Again in Thy Spirit descend,
And set up in each of Thine own
A kingdom that never shall end!
Thou only art able to bless,
And make the glad nations obey,
And bid the dire enmity cease,
And bow the whole world to Thy sway.”
Then he lay still awhile.
“Bring me pen and ink again," he said.
“You cannot write, I see," observed one of his friends.
“No, I cannot."
“Let me write for you, then. What shall I say?"
"Nothing but that God is with us.”
On Tuesday afternoon, March 1, 1791, the change for death came. In a feeble tone he said, "Lord, Thou givest strength to those that can speak and to those that cannot. Speak, Lord, to all our hearts, and let them know that Thou loosest the tongue.”
He then burst out singing-
“To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Who sweetly all agree.”
His voice failed and he gasped for breath.
“Let us go," he said.
“His mind is wandering," said his friend. "Call up all the friends who are downstairs.”
The little bedroom and smaller study were soon filled with a weeping throng.
One of the company knelt in prayer. Wesley burst out, "Amen! Farewell! Farewell!”
Then lifting his wasted arm as if in triumph, in a voice feeble indeed, but inexpressibly sweet, he exclaimed—
“The best of all is, God is with us. I'll praise, I'll praise," he added. And so, praying and praising, he lingered until a few moments before ten o'clock on the next morning, Wednesday, March 2, 1791.
John Wesley was 88 years of age as time is counted below, when he began the endless life full of pleasures for evermore!
His friends knelt round his dying bed, while one was engaged in prayer.
While he spoke, and without a groan, John Wesley went is to see the King!
The company around his bed burst out into a verse of praise, singing—
“Waiting to receive thy spirit, Lo!
the Savior stands above,
Shows the purchase of His merit,
Reaches out the crown of love.”
On the 9th of March, 1791, they laid his body to rest in the vault. But the reformation he had commenced did not die with him. All denominations of Evangelical Christians experienced the blessed influences of his ministry. It was preeminently a soul-saving life, and therefore the highest type of a pastoral life, For he is likest Christ who seeks to call sinners to repentance.