LET it not be supposed that Berridge was allowed to carry on unmolested the work we have described. All classes of persons were aroused against him. “No opposition was too violent, no names were too opprobrious, no treatment was too barbarous to impede his career, or render him odious in the estimation of the public. Some of his followers were roughly handled, and their property destroyed.” So writes one who afterward worked with Berridge. But none of these things discouraged him or turned him from his purpose of preaching Christ. “Expect persecution, but heed it not,” he had written to another, and the advice was truly carried out in his own life. Two methods were resorted to in order to silence him―the rough-and-ready mode of personal injury, and the not less painful personal insult, together with false representations to his bishop, to induce him to forbid Berridge’s work outside the parish of Everton.
One or two instances of attempted violence are recorded, which speak in a wonderful way of God’s grace, and show, too, the power of His Word. Two men got underneath the table upon which Berridge, preaching to a great company of people, was standing, with intent to overthrow it, but while there, the words of the preacher so affected their hearts, that they abandoned their design, and afterward confessed to Berridge, with grief and shame, what they had intended to do. Others came having their pockets filled with stones wherewith to stone him, but were reached by the Word, and emptying their pockets, besought Berridge to pray for them. Another man went to Everton Church, with the purpose of confusing Berridge, and causing him to break down in his preaching. To this end he took his seat directly opposite the pulpit and proceeded to make contemptuous gestures and remarks. Not at all confused, Berridge paused in his sermon, and addressed the man personally, and with such solemn words, that on leaving the church, the would-be disturber said, “I came to confuse this good man, but God has made him the means of convincing me that I am a lost sinner.”
But to a sensitive man insult and scorn would be quite as painful as knowing that he stood in bodily danger. The grace bestowed upon Berridge helped him to rise above this too, and “heed it not.” “Gentry, magistrates, and others,” wrote the one just quoted, “became one band, and employed every engine to check his progress, and silence him from preaching.”
“The Old Devil” was the only name by which he was distinguished among them for between twenty and thirty years!” An honorable title to one who could rejoice in being counted worthy of reproach for the name of Christ! Had not men angrily said of Christ Himself, “He hath a devil”? The servant is not greater than his lord, and though Berridge, in a remarkable way, followed in the footsteps of the blessed Example, this was unnoticed; his kindness to the poor, the help he bestowed upon the needy, his sympathy with the distressed, his love and charity to all men, counted as nothing; he was guilty of irregular preaching, and in consequence no name was too bad for him. Even his fellow-clergymen, who should have taken pains to inquire into the truth or falsehood of these reports before believing them, took no trouble in the matter, but accepted the “evil report,” and by their conduct sought to make Berridge’s work still more difficult, while their attitude towards him gave sanction to others to molest the object of their dislike.
We now give, in Berridge’s own words, an account of an attempt to silence him.
He says: “Soon after I began to preach the gospel of Christ at Everton, the church was filled from the villages around us, and the neighboring clergy felt themselves hurt at their churches being deserted. A person of my own parish, too, was much offended. He did not like to see so many strangers and be so incommoded. Between them both, it was resolved, if possible, to turn me out of my living. For this purpose, they complained of me to the Bishop of the Diocese, that I had preached out of my parish. I was soon after sent for by the Bishop. I did not much like my errand, but I went. When I arrived, the Bishop accosted me in a very abrupt manner: ‘Well, Berridge, they tell me you go about preaching out of your own parish. Did I institute you to the livings of A―, or E―, or P―?’
“‘No, my lord,’ said I, ‘neither do I claim any of these livings; the clergymen enjoy them undisturbed by me.’
“‘Well, but you do go and preach there, which you have no right to do.’
“‘It is true, my lord, I was one day at E―, and there were a few poor people assembled together, and I admonished them to repent of their sins, and to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ for the salvation of their souls; and I remember seeing five or six clergymen that day, my lord, all out of their own parishes, upon E―bowling green.’
“‘Pooh!’ said his lordship, ‘I tell you, you have no right to preach out of your own parish; and, if you do not desist from it, you will very likely be sent to Huntingdon Jail.’
“‘As to that, my lord,’ said I, ‘I have no greater liking to Huntingdon Jail than other people; but I had rather go thither with a good conscience, than live at my liberty without one.’
“Here his lordship looked very hard at me, and gravely assured me that I was beside myself, and that, in a few months’ time, I should either be better or worse.
“‘Then,’ said I, ‘my lord, you may make yourself quite happy in this business; for if I should be better, you suppose I shall desist from this practice of my own accord; and if worse, you need not send me to Huntingdon Jail, as I shall be provided with an accommodation in Bedlam.’
“His lordship now changed his mode of attack. Instead of threatening, he began to entreat. ‘Berridge,’ said he, ‘you know I have been your friend, and I wish to be so still. I am continually teased with the complaints of the clergymen around you. Only assure me that you will keep to your own parish; you may do as you please there. I have but little time to live; do not bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave.’
“At this instant, two gentlemen were announced, who desired to speak with his lordship. ‘Berridge,’ said he, ‘go to your inn, and come again at such an hour, and dine with me.’
“I went, and on entering a private room, fell immediately upon my knees. I could bear threatening, but knew not how to withstand entreaty, especially the entreaty of a respectable old man. At the appointed time I returned. At dinner I was treated with great respect. The two gentlemen also dined with us. I found they had been informed who I was, as they sometimes cast their eyes towards me, in some such manner as one would glance at a monster. After dinner his lordship took me into the garden. ‘Well, Berridge,’ said he, ‘have you considered of my request?’
“‘I have, my lord,’ said I, ‘and have been upon my knees concerning it.’
“‘Well, and will you promise me that you will preach no more out of your own parish?’
“‘It would afford me great pleasure,’ said I, ‘to comply with your lordship’s request, if I could do it with a good conscience. I am satisfied the Lord has blessed my labors of this kind, and I dare not desist.’
“‘A good conscience!’ said his lordship, ‘do you not know that it is contrary to the Canons of the Church?’
“‘There is one Canon, my lord,’ I replied, ‘which saith, Go preach the Gospel to every creature.’
“‘But why should you wish to interfere with the charge of other men? One man cannot preach the Gospel to all men.’
“‘If they would preach the Gospel themselves,’ said I, ‘there would be no need for my preaching it to their people; but as they do not, I cannot desist.’
“His lordship then parted with me in some displeasure. I returned home, not knowing what would befall me; but thankful to God that I had preserved a conscience void of offense.
“I took no measures for my own preservation, but divine providence wrote for me in a way I never expected. When I was at Clare Hall, I was particularly acquainted with a Fellow of that College; and we were both upon terms of intimacy with Mr. Pitt the late Lord Chatham), who was at that time also at the University. This Fellow of Clare Hall, when I began to preach the Gospel, became my enemy, and did me some injury in some ecclesiastical privileges, which beforetime I had enjoyed. At length, however, when he heard that I was likely to come into trouble, and to be turned out of my living at Everton, his heart relented. He began to think, it seems, within himself, We shall ruin this poor fellow among us. This was just about the time I was sent for by the Bishop. Of his own accord he writes a letter to Mr. Pitt, saying nothing about my Methodism, but to this effect: ‘Our old friend Berridge, has got a living in Bedfordshire, and I am informed there is one―, that gives him a great deal of trouble―has accused him to the Bishop of the Diocese, and, it is said, will turn him out of his living. I wish you could contrive to put a stop to these proceedings.’ Mr. Pitt was at that time a young man, and not choosing to apply to the Bishop himself, spoke to a certain nobleman, to whom the Bishop was indebted for his promotion. This nobleman, within a few days, made it his business to see the Bishop, then in London. ‘My lord,’ said he, ‘I am informed that you have a very honest fellow, one Berridge, in your Diocese, and that he has been ill-treated by a litigious person. He has accused him, I am told, to your lordship, and wishes to turn him out of his living. You would oblige me, my lord, if you would take no notice of that person, and not suffer the honest man to be interrupted in his living.’ The Bishop was astonished, and could not imagine in what manner things could have thus got round. It would not do, however, to object; he was obliged to bow compliance, and so I continued ever after uninterrupted in my sphere of action.
“The person, having waited on the Bishop to know the result of the summons, had the mortification to learn that his purpose was defeated. On his return home, his partisans in this prosecution fled to know what was determined on, saying, ‘Well, you have got the Old Devil out?’ He replied, ‘No, nor do I think the very devil himself can get him out!’”
The Bible Berridge used is still in existence, its margins and blank pages full of manuscript notes and references to passages of Scripture, which God had graciously given him for comfort in distress and guidance in difficulty. Among them occurs the following note: “1 Chron. 17:1, 2. June 22nd, 1758, when I began to itinerate, and when my Squire and Potton Vicar complained of me to the Bishop.―Rev. 3:8-11. July 24th, 1758, when my Squire complained to my college.” In the first passage there is an evident reference to his desire to go forth for God to preach the Gospel, and the encouraging word, “Do all that is in thine heart; for God is with thee.” From the second passage he drew the comfort that the Lord had set before him an open door, and therefore no man could shut it; the promise that those who opposed should one day own the Lord’s love to him, together with the exhortation to hold fast what he had, that no man should take his crown. A happy thing when God’s own word is our comfort and guide in such a manner!
But though an effectual check was put upon the attempts to repress Berridge through the Bishop, the false, slanderous reports could not be so readily withdrawn; and to the end of his days these idle tales found acceptance in people’s minds, helping to form their opinion of him. An interesting story was told by a clergyman after Berridge’s death, which proves, this. Berridge going once to attend a visitation, was joined by a stranger, who was also a clergyman; after some conversation, the stranger asked Mr. B― if he knew one Berridge, in those parts, whom he had heard was a very troublesome, good-for-nothing fellow! “Yes,” rejoined B―, “I know him, and do assure you that whatever you may have heard, one half of his wickedness has not been told you.” The stranger expressed his surprise and requested B― to point out the man to him when they arrived at the church, which he promised to do, and the conversation took a more general turn. On their arrival, the stranger reminded him of his promise. “My dear sir,” said he, “I am John Berridge.” “Is it possible?” said the astonished stranger, “and can you forgive me? will you honor me with your acquaintance? will you admit me to your house?” “Yes,” replied the good old man, “and to my heart.”
W. J.
IF THINE ENEMY HUNGER, FEED HIM; IF HE THIRST, GIVE HIM DRINK; FOR IN SO DOING THOU SHALT HEAP COALS OF FIRE ON HIS HEAD. BE NOT OVERCOME OF EVIL, BUT OVERCOME EVIL WITH GOOD.―Rom. 12:20, 21.