More peeps into the Magic Mirror.--A special
picture for Sheffield readers.--Another for young
folks in Oldham.--Little Daniel on the pulpit
stairs.--Special for Hull.
I THINK we must have some more peeps into that Magic Mirror? Will my
little Sheffield readers take a good look? What do we see? A street in a
big town, and oh! such crowds and crowds of people on both sides of the
road. The windows of the houses, too, are all crowded with people. What
can it all mean? See! there are two men coming along, everybody is
turning to look at them, and we can hear more than one voice saying:
"God bless him! God bless him!" Several of the women are wiping their
eyes with the corner of their aprons; there are tears in many eyes. Look
at the two men as they come nearer. One is a middle-aged man; the other,
who is leaning on his arm, wears a black gown and white bands. He is an
old man, but how beautiful he looks. He has a splendid face, a clear
skin and rosy cheeks. His eyes are quick and keen, and he has long,
shiny hair, white and bright like silver.
See now how the children are crowding round him! He is smiling down upon
them and putting his hands upon their heads as he passes. Now he is
stretching his hands out towards heaven, and blessing all the people,
many of whom are weeping aloud. He has passed down the street, and the
picture has gone. Sheffield readers, that was how your town welcomed and
honoured dear John Wesley a short time before his death.
Now peep again into the Magic Mirror. And this time I would like my
Oldham readers to step to the front. See, there is a little boy about
six years old playing at the door of a house. An old clergyman is
passing, and stops to speak to the child.
"Where is your father, Daniel?" he says.
"Gone to chapel."
"And your mother?"
"She's gone too," answers Daniel.
"And you shall go too, my boy. You must not miss seeing this great man,
John Wesley," says the clergyman, as he takes the child's hand and fades
away from our picture.
But see, there is another coming! It is the inside of a chapel, and
people are everywhere; in the galleries, in the aisles, in the communion
rails, everywhere. On the pulpit-stairs some one has found room for a
little child. Why, it is Daniel, and there is the kind clergyman
standing near. See, the preacher has finished, and is coming down from
the pulpit, he is lifting up the little child and is kissing him. Now,
he has passed into the vestry, and the picture has gone. That, my young
Oldham readers, was the opening of Manchester St. Chapel on Good Friday,
1790, when Mr. Wesley was nearly ninety years old.
At Hull, Birmingham, Wednesbury, Chester, Manchester, Liverpool, all
places where the Methodists had been most cruelly treated, Mr. Wesley
and his followers were now most kindly welcomed. You remember how Mr.
Wesley and his brother had been shut out of the churches, very few
clergymen allowing them to preach in their pulpits. This, too, was all
changed.
Those of you who live in Hull will like to know that John Wesley, when
he was eighty-three, was invited by the vicar to preach in your
beautiful High Church. If any of you have not been inside--but surely
all my Hull readers have--pay it a visit, and just fancy you see that
bright-eyed, silver-haired old man, with a voice that had lost little of
the strength of youth, preaching to the crowds that thronged the
hallowed place. If those old grey walls could speak, we might know John
Wesley's very words. He preached again at night, and though so old, was
unwearied with his work. He went on to Beverley that same evening, and
the next day travelled seventy-six miles, preached at Malton,
Pocklington, and Swinefleet, and went to bed without feeling the least
bit tired. Wonderful John Wesley! God-blest John Wesley!
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