“As to myself, I feel that I have increasing cause for gratitude in
all that concerns me. I think I never felt so truly blessed in any
former period of my life. I really have no earthly desire
unfulfilled; my cup literally runs over. God is also very graciously
pleased to prosper me in my ministerial labours. I have the
satisfaction of seeing fresh trophies of the Redeemer’s power to
save; and my heart is rejoiced in seeing those whom the Lord has
gathered around me, walking, in some measure at least, as becometh
the Gospel of Christ. To these, indeed, there are, as there is
reason to fear there ever will be, some painful exceptions; but, upon
the whole, I have abundant cause for thanksgiving and praise. In the
midst of all these causes for joy, I have many a memento that the
excellence of the power is of God, and not of men; the cracked
earthen vessel is but too apparent. For this, however, I hope I feel
grateful; for what is so great a blessing to a poor, proud, selfish
being, such as I am constrained to acknowledge myself, as occasional
humiliations? They are the very medicine of my soul.”
After referring to two cases of affliction in his family, he writes to
his friend abroad, dated August 4, 1817:—
“But out of all the Lord has most graciously delivered us; and I can
look back upon the whole with real gratitude to God. There was not a
stroke or a drop too much; all was merciful in the design, and I hope
the benefits still remain. Tribulation working ‘patience,’ a calm
waiting upon God. Patience an ‘experience’ of his divine support at
the time, and an experience of his eventual deliverance. Experience
‘hope,’ an expectation of future help and future deliverance; and
this hope will not make me ashamed. There were times in which I felt
this to be a weary land; but still I found the shadow of a great
Rock, and this shade was truly refreshing to my soul. Oh, that I
could ever there abide!
“I think I mentioned to you that our mutual friend Cox had the living
of Bridgenorth presented to him. He has been there now some months,
but he labours under very great discouragement, owing to the little
effect resulting from his ministrations. A few weeks ago he wished
that we should exchange duties, hoping that my Methodistical zeal
might arouse them. After an enumeration of the probable consequences
to which he must make up his mind, I at length consented, and, as I
supposed, the stir has been great; rascal, villain, ranter, field
preacher, are the usual epithets attached to my opprobrious name. A
petition has been drawn up, with many signatures attached, requesting
Cox to forbid me his pulpit; in short, the whole place has been in a
hubbub. Inquiry, however, begins to take place, the stagnant waters
are moved, and after the working off of the scum and the grosser
particles, we may expect to see purer and even living waters. Cox
answered their petition with becoming spirit, united with pleasing
conciliation. It has, I find, given great offence, notwithstanding
all; but we wait for the issue in a spirit of prayer. It is somewhat
remarkable that Bridgenorth was the place in which Richard Baxter,
author of the “Saint’s Rest,” met with such decided opposition, that
as he went out of the town, he shook off the dust of his feet as a
testimony against them; and, since that time, no preached gospel has
prospered among them. The Dissenters and even the warm-hearted
Methodists have hitherto laboured almost in vain. But who knows how
soon the curse may be removed? We keep encouraging Cox all that we
possibly can, but he seems determined at present to leave. Unite
your prayers, my dear friend, with ours, that he may not be permitted
to desert this wilderness and solitary place, but that he may
patiently wait till he rejoices over it as a peculiarly verdant spot
in the garden of our Lord.”