Journal Vol4 7
| Author | John Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | journal |
| Year | None |
| Passage ID | jw-journal-vol4-7-345 |
| Words | 388 |
form, of religion. After he had lived some years openly and avowedly without God in the world, while he was one evening quite merry with his jovial companions, one ofthem said, " Why, Mr. Lee, you was once very godly ; you was one of those mad Methodists ! " He answered not a word, but leaned his arm on the table, and died. Feb. 1786. i Sun. FEBRUARY 5.-In the morning, while I was applying at the new chapel that solemn declaration, " The Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save ; nor his ear heavy, that it cannot hear ; " he did indeed speak aloud in his word, so that the stout-hearted trembled. I broke out into prayer : The power of God came mightily upon us, and there was a general cry. But the voice of two persons prevailed over all the rest ; one praying, and the other shrieking as in the agonies of death. God relieved the former in a few minutes ; the other, not till evening. This week, in travelling, I read over Dr. Stuart's History of Scotland. He is a writer indeed ! as far above Dr. Robert- son, as Dr. Robertson is above Oldmixon. He proves beyond all possibility of doubt, that the charges against Queen Mary were totally groundless ; that she was betrayed basely by her own servants, from the beginning to the end; and that she was not only one of the best Princesses then in Europe, but one of the most blameless, yea, and the most pious women ! I went to Mitcham, and found a little company just started up, who were all on fire for God. The house being too small, I preached at the front of ahouse adjoining to the road ; where the earnestness of the people made amends for the keenness of the north wind. I preached in Horsleydown church, where (to my no small surprise)no man, woman, or child, seemed to knowme either by face or by name ! But before I had done, many ofthe numerous congregation knew that God was there of a truth. I paid my last visit to that saint of God, Ann Sharland, dying of a cancer in her breast, in continual pain ; but triumphing over pain and death .