Abe becomes a Local Preacher.
Several years had passed away from the date of Abe's marriage, and a
family of young children had sprung up around him, filling his cottage
with life, and keeping him and his active wife constantly employed to
supply their daily necessities. Hard times they had during those
years, but they held on their honest way, content with what they got,
and envying no one that was in better circumstances than themselves.
During all these years Abe continued a devoted follower of Christ; he
was always at the means of grace, and his chief aim was to be a true
disciple of the cross. At the same time he was slowly acquiring
ability to speak in the meetings with more propriety and effect.
Methodist prayer-meetings and class-meetings are excellent training
schools for public speakers. Most of the best ministers in Methodism
first learnt to talk in these little meetings, where they have had,
week by week, opportunities of expressing their thoughts and feelings
upon their religious life and experience; and although there are some
who have profited but very little by the benefits afforded in this way,
there are many others who have made their way from that humble
beginning up to the highest ranks of the Christian ministry.
In this training institution Abe slowly and steadily improved his
powers, till some of his friends began to think he ought to have his
name placed on the Circuit plan as an exhorter. It was accordingly
mentioned to him, but for some time met with no very favourable
response from Abe. "Come on t' plan," exclaimed he; "nay, not soa,
unless you want to mak' a clerk o' me; but I can say Amen, without
being planned."
However, circumstances sometimes happen which have more force of
argument in them than anything that men can say. It occasionally
transpired, that some local preacher who was planned to preach in Salem
Chapel did not come to his appointment, and some person in the
congregation had to take the vacant place, and conduct the service as
well as he might be able without any previous preparation. Now it
appears that Abe found himself placed just in this very unenviable
position. The congregation were all in the chapel; the hour of service
had come, and passed, yet no preacher arrived; the people were
whispering and looking at the clock; one brother went to the door to
see if there were any sign of the preacher's coming; two or three of
the leading brethren were whispering together, and then one of them
came over to Abe and said, "I'm afraid there's going to be no preacher,
thou'll be like to try and talk a bit this morning."
"Me, noa, I canna praach, mun," said Abe, evidently agitated.
"Aye, but thou can; thou'll have to try, and we'll pray for thee."
Abe turned pale, looked up at the little pulpit, then down on the
ground, and then said, "I've now't to talk abaat, noa, I canna tak'
it." Then another brother came and united his persuasion to that of
the man already with him, and at length Abe arose and went into the
singing pew in front of the pulpit, pale and trembling, and announced a
hymn. The service began, and grew into a kind of compromise between a
prayer meeting and preaching. The preacher took a text, and in his own
style did his best to speak from the words,--the probability is he _did
speak from them_, further from them than critical hearers would judge
proper, but what of that? He did his best, and there were none in the
congregation but knew him and knew his consistent life; and although
what he said was very unpreaching-like, it did not matter; the people
were well pleased, and Abe was very glad when it was over.
After the first time this occurred again and again in Salem, until Abe
began to be looked upon as the general stop-gap, as they called him.
But he was not to occupy that post always; it was only the
stepping-stone to something else, for by-and-bye some of the local
preachers would take him out with them to their appointments, and let
him talk to the people as well as he was able. Wherever he went they
said he must be sure and come again; he was so quaint, droll, plain,
yet withal so fervent, that everyone enjoyed his remarks, and wished to
hear him again.
About the year 1833, and during the ministry of the Revs. J. Curtis and
G. Bradshaw in the Huddersfield Circuit, an incident took place which
will give an idea of the style of Abe's early preaching efforts. It
was on one Shrove Tuesday afternoon that he had to preach at
Paddock;--the service was at that time conducted in a cottage;--a good
deal of talk had been indulged in by the people in anticipation of
Abe's visit, and a great amount of curiosity and interest was excited.
The place was full. Abe arrived, rubbing his hands, and blessing the
Lord, and immediately took his place, and commenced the service. His
prayer was like himself, rough and earnest; Divine power came down upon
the little company, and tears of joy ran from all eyes. He selected a
lesson with which he was familiar, and managed the reading very
creditably. Abe then took his text, the subject being Abraham offering
up his son Isaac on Mount Moriah. Just at that moment the Rev. J.
Curtis came into the service. Now the unexpected appearance of the
Superintendent Minister, under circumstances like those, would have
unnerved most young preachers, but it had no such effect on Abe; he no
sooner set his eyes on him, than he said, "Naa thaa sees I'm at it,
we're just baan off to Mount Moriah, and thaa mun goa too," and off he
went in a style peculiarly his own.
He drew some very amusing pictures of the patriarch, his son, and the
young men preparing for the journey; he had Abraham ordering the
servant men to do this, fetch that, undo something else; he had a deal
of trouble in saddling the asses, those animals exhibiting the
obstinate tendencies for which their descendants are even yet so
renowned; all was at length ready, Abraham and his attendants were
mounted and setting off, when the door was again opened, and in walked
the Rev. G. Bradshaw, the young minister. At sight of him Abe shouted,
"Aye, lad, thaa art baan to be too late, we've gotten th' mules saddled
and had a'most gone withaat thee, but niver moind, thaa mun catch a
mule for theesen, and come on behind." So away they went, Abe taking
the lead, and the people mentally following.
He preached them such a sermon as they had never heard in their
lives--nor anybody else. Now they laughed at his odd sayings and
grotesque pictures, and then with melting feelings they praised God as
they listened to some of the simple yet truly beautiful sayings which
fell from his lips. As a sermon, there was enough to find fault with,
for he knew nothing about the art of sermonizing, and cared as little;
but it was so full of homely truth and spiritual feeling, that every
one, ministers not excepted, forgave the faults, and said it was a
means of grace.
In this way Abe continued for some time, occasionally preaching without
being officially recognized, but at length his name was placed on the
plan as a local preacher on trial. When the term of his probation was
almost expired, Abe was required to preach one week-night in High
Street Chapel, Huddersfield.
HIS TRIAL SERMON.
It was a terrible trial for him, which appears strange, considering how
easy he felt when the Circuit ministers heard him in the little room at
Paddock, yet so it was; and as the time came on, Abe thought he never
could show his face in High Street. Had it been anywhere else he would
not have cared, but he had a dread of the Circuit Chapel. He had gone
to several of the country places during the year, and sometimes did
very well; but then, he felt at home among the plain village people;
they could understand his broad vernacular, and make allowance for his
blunders, which he knew were not a few, but in High Street everything
was different. He thought they could not exercise the same forbearance
towards him, and so he shrank from the task.
But then he remembered it was not a place of his own seeking; that it
was a trial which other plain men had undergone before him, and would
do again, and he could not expect more favour than his brethren; so he
must go and do his best, trusting in the Lord for help. And that
evening Sally brushed him up, and had his clogs polished, and away he
went to Huddersfield. There was a good congregation to hear him, and
among others several local preachers. Abe was very nervous, and
everything around conspired to make him so. He was in High Street
Chapel, awful; he had to preach, worse; to preach a trial sermon, worse
than ever; before all these grand folks, and in the presence of the
Superintendent, it was blinding, sickening, confounding. He started at
the sound of his own voice, and when he tried to speak, he somehow said
just what he didn't intend, and made more mistakes than he had either
time or sense to rectify; then, whenever he moved his feet, his clogs
clamped on the floor in such a way as he had never heard them anywhere
else; he was in a fever of excitement and fear. However, he had to
preach; so having announced his text, he commenced his sermon, but it
was evidently hard for him to say anything; he tried and tried, rolled
his eyes up and all around, clasped his hands, uttered a few sentences,
scratched his head, and exclaimed, "Friends, I'm plogged" (meaning he
could not go on), "she weant goa; if this is preaching trial sermon,
I'll niver try another; we'll be like to swap texts" (try another
text). Now while he was finding another text, the congregation sang a
hymn, and by the time this was done, Abe was ready with his text, which
he announced and again started to speak, but with no greater success,
for it seemed as if all his ideas were gone wool-gathering. He
coughed, stammered, and sweat at every pore, but brought forth nothing
else; an encouraging word or two from one of the brethren was very
welcome at that moment, for looking towards him, Abe said, "She weant
goa, but we'll try another."
Twice breaking down in one service would have satisfied any ordinary
man in his circumstances, and so daunted many as that they would never
have been heard of again; but Abe was no ordinary man, and was not soon
killed; he had come there to try to preach, and it was evident to
everyone that he was trying; he knew that if he made another attempt he
could not do worse than he had done, and he might do better, and if he
did break down there would not be anything very unusual in it, seeing
it would make the third time, so he found another text and announced
it. Everybody was wide awake and ready for another stop, but Abe
smiled, brightened up, and went on; "She's baan to goa this time, I do
believe," said he, and so it proved, for when he got into his subject
he spoke very fluently, sensibly, and naturally, and all present felt
that Abe could preach when he got started, and how could he or any one
else preach without starting?
A short time after this eventful service Abe had to pass through
another trying ordeal. His case had to come before the Circuit
quarterly meeting, the tribunal which has made many an innocent man
tremble. There he had to be examined as to his acquaintance with and
belief in the Methodist doctrines, rules, etc. What may have been the
merits of this examination we are unable to state; probably there was a
good deal of leniency shown by the meeting towards Abe. If he was
deficient on some points, he compensated in others; if he could not
define and defend all the articles of our faith, he could believe them
as fully as any one else; be that as it may, there was no serious
objection taken to him on the ground of his examination, but the affair
of the trial sermon was not so soon got over, and a good deal of
special pleading had to be done for him by his friends, which is no
unusual thing when the merits of a candidate are under discussion.
That "swapping of texts" no less than three times was a very
extraordinary feature in the case, and called forth some severe
censures. A man that did so could not be fit to come on the Circuit
plan as an accredited local preacher, so some in the meeting felt and
said; but others thought differently; they could not but admit that
under the circumstances he had done a good thing even in changing texts
the third time, and why impeach the man for doing a good thing? The
man who changes horses in crossing a stream may incur great risks; but
if the horse he is riding be sinking under him, he must change seats or
sink too, and this is just what Abe did, and the outcome showed that he
did the best thing, for the third horse carried him over. He at least
possessed an amount of perseverance which few men in similar
circumstances would have exhibited; then he must not be estimated
solely by what he was when under trial in High Street chapel. How had
he done in other places? Here the tide began to tell in his favour, as
first one and then another spoke in commendation of his labour in other
places, and at length Brother Haigh rose and said, "Abe Lockwood was
with me on Sunday night at Mills Bridge; I heard him preach, and he did
my soul good. After the sermon an old man seventy years of age came
out, sought the Lord, and found Him; that old man was impressed under
Abe's sermon, which shows that God can do with his preaching. What
matter if he does sometimes break down in his sermons? he knows how to
break sinners down too, and after all, that is the best sort of
preaching." He was at once cordially received into the ranks of the
local preachers, and appeared as such in January 1837; and from that
time to the end of his life was as earnest, devoted, and popular as any
man among that band, as worthy a band of men as ever worked a Methodist
circuit.
So Abe became a local preacher, and while he always felt and said that
the office honoured him, he, on the other hand, did his utmost to
honour the position which the Church had called him to occupy.
Methodism owes very much to those brave, earnest, and godly men who
have, during all her history, through all her struggles, laboured
cheerfully on, year after year, often at immense personal sacrifice and
suffering, carrying the tidings of salvation to outstanding districts,
which would seldom have heard the Gospel but for their disinterested
services. Their toils cannot have been for worldly honours, where
could they win them? They cannot have been for pecuniary gain, because
their labours have ever been gratuitous, and often expensive to
themselves;--pelted with hailstones, dripping with rain, torn by
storms, blistered with sun-heat, in all parts of the land, over miles
of barren hills and wild moor, through dirty lanes and new-ploughed
fields, giving ungrudgingly of their strength; Sunday after Sunday
leaving the home enjoyments of their family and the sanctuary to carry
the Gospel of Christ to those afar off. What will the Master do to
those brave labourers of His in the day of award? He will make them
great in the Kingdom of Heaven.