Methodism in Earnest

James Caughey

Protracted religious services were determined upon, by a few choice spirits, who had for some time mourned over the desolations of Zion in that town. The time fixed for the commencement of hostilities arrived. The conflict began a determination I have seldom seen surpassed. We preached the gospel during a succession of evenings, with but one single object in view, to bring hardened sinners to repentance. There were many such in that town; ungodly men, who had long set the God that made them at defiance; men who violated his law, neglected his worship, despised his servants, denied the truths of his Bible, and entertained opinions the most degrading and anti-scriptural. Drunkenness, Sabbath-breaking, whoredom, profane swearing, and all manner of wickedness, were practised without feeling, fear, or remorse. But a few there were who “sighed and cried” for all the abominations of the place. “Rivers of water,” said some, “run down mine eyes, because men keep not thy law.” “It is time, Lord, for thee to work, for they have made void thy law,” was the mournful and interceding language of others. The example of some ministers in the town was no rule for us. Our duty was plain; -not to glance over this moral desolation an eye of careless indifference; nor to be governed in our movements by that Cainite sentiment, the principle of which is so prevalent in the present day: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” We did not feel ourselves called to deplore merely the general wickedness around, nor the horrors of that dreadful hell towards which that wickedness was carrying this population of sinners, but to make vigorous efforts for their rescue.

Believing the gospel to be Heaven’s revealed instrumentality to bring about an event so desirable, we endeavoured to wield its divine truth with all the energy with which it had pleased God to endue us. Our efforts were not confined to the Sabbath, or to one or two evenings in the week, but “night and day,” throughout the week, not in the sanctuary alone, but from house to house; afternoon and night we laboured for God in the chapel; the forenoons and intervals between meetings, we exhorted the people at their homes to turn to God. Sinners, however, remained hard and obstinate. They seemed, in fact, as if leagued together to defeat our object; not indeed by open and avowed hostility, but by keeping themselves away from the house of God. The few who ventured into our assemblies, were as unmoved as the seats. The “why and wherefore” of all this “religious stir and din,” seemed to be the predominant inquiry upon the features of the visitors. This was just what we wanted to see; and we were determined to have this expression become general. “Truth,” said one, “fears nothing more than inattention. It is too important to be treated with indifference. Opposition calls forth and sharpens the powers of the human mind in its defence. The cause of the gospel has ever gained by investigation. Credulity is the bane of it.”

Our congregations increased, but the hardness and impenitency of sinners continued. Of one thing I can assure you, the whole counsel of God was delivered. Nothing was kept back which we considered profitable to our hearers, or essential to the faithful declaration of our message. With the sentiment of an elegant writer we heartily concurred: “The defensive armour of a shrinking and timid policy, does not suit Christianity. Hers is the naked majesty of truth. With all the grandeur of age, but with none of its infirmities, has she come down to us, and gathered new strength from the battles she has won in the many controversies of many generations. With such a religion as this, there is nothing to hide; all should be above board; and the broadest light of day should be made fully and freely to circulate through all her services, but secret things she has none. To her belong the frankness and the simplicity of conscious greatness. And whether she grapple with the pride of philosophy, or stand in pointed opposition to the prejudices of the multitude she does it upon her own strength, and spurns all the props and all the auxiliaries away from her.”

We were not seeking after gain or popularity. We asked not the money of our hearers, nor their goods, nor any portion of them. “It is not for you to be fishing for gudgeons but for towns, forts, and castles,” said Cleopatra to Mark Antony. Glory be to God! we were not fishing for gudgeons, -filthy lucre, or the praise of men -but we had laid close siege to the town, its forts and its castles; every strong-hold of Satan. We wielded the same weapons, as did the apostles. (2 Cor. x. 4. 5.) And as the forts, towers, and castles, all the strongholds of the kingdom of hell, came tumbling down, under the mighty and supernatural blows of their weapons, we did expect to see the same effects produced, ere the battle was ended in which we were now engaged. Human applause was as valueless as the dust of their streets. Their wrath we dreaded not. Neither men nor devils were we afraid of. We expected persecution, but we were yet too insignificant. Dogs do not bark at a solitary star or two; but, as old Alciat observes, in his “Emblems,” they bark most when the moon is at the full; perhaps not so much at the moon herself, as at the “strange and dubious things,” which multiply upon their animal vision. We anticipated that when the little church began to shine forth, “bright as the sun, fair as the moon, and terrible as an army with banners,” in a glorious revival, that it would set all the dogs in town barking.

Again and again, as our congregations increased, the gospel of our God and Saviour was proclaimed in all its fullness, while the steel of eternal truth was pointed directly at the heart of every sinner. The sins of the people were clearly and faithfully portrayed in all their horrible deformity. There was no daubing with intemperate mortar; no compromising of truth; no beating the air with idle words; no temporising; no trimming to suit the prejudices of the people; no mincing of truth, a little now and a little again, as the people could bear it; no equivocal, or ambiguous sentences or expressions, phrases of “doubtful signification,” in order to avoid offending delicate ears. Things were called by their proper names; whoredom was named whoredom; adultery, fornication, &c., were called such; hell, sin, sinners, and the devil, were subjects set before the people in all the terror of the one, and the native ugliness of the other. The law of God, and the hell of eternity, were set forth with all the sanctions of the former, and with all the torments, weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, of the latter.

While dealing with these sinners, we were perplexed with no misgivings respecting the extent of the redeeming plan. We knew, to borrow the language of another, that, “as the gospel had no limitation as it regarded time, it had nothing of the kind when applied to human character.” “Jesus Christ,” we insisted, “by the grace of God tasted death for every man;” “he is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world;” and “by him all that believe are justified from all things, from which they could not be justified by the law of Moses;” that so long as a sinner had repentance and faith in his heart, we know not a single crime, or collection of crimes, in the whole catalogue of human depravity, that the atoning blood of Christ could not wash away; or that there was any desperado of vice and folly, within the compass of our voice, however sunk in the depths of his dark and unnatural depravity, who was not welcome to come to Christ, if he would. Nor would such a sinner find, that the crimson inveteracy of his manifold offences was beyond the reach of the peace speaking and purifying blood of the Son of God. We were persuaded that as the justice of God suffered no encroachment by the offers of mercy to the believing penitent, and as mercy itself is restrained by no limitation, there can be no arrest laid upon its offers, arising from the shades, and degrees, and varieties, of human sinfulness; that, allowing the existence of repentance and faith within the soul of the sinner, there is no point in the descending scale of human depravity beyond which it cannot go, even “to hell’s trembling verge.” They were told, that as “for guilt, in its full impenitency, Jesus Christ dyed his garments, and waded through an arena of blood,” so might the most abandoned of the children of iniquity begin a contrite movement toward him; that Jesus Christ would be the last person in heaven to spurn them away from purchased mercy, purchased by his own most precious blood; nor would he ever close the door of mercy, which had cost him so much to open; that he would never quench the spark of the sinner’s desire for salvation, nor break the bruised reed, nor overturn the prop of hope in Christ, upon which he was invited to rest.” But, strange as it may appear, a sullen front of resistance was still maintained upon the part of sinners. With us the matter was settled, “Victory or death” Again the lightnings of truth and terror flashed over the congregations. The thunders of Sinai reverberated long, loud, and dreadful The place trembled, and the heart and soul of man quaked before the presence of the Lord God of hosts.

We were not trammelled in our efforts by rich and time serving professors; nor by any who were anxious we should obtain or retain the approbation of the wealthy. There was no sensation created on the appearance of influential persons in the congregation, lest they might take offence, and leave the church, possibly to return no more. We were troubled with no officials cautioning us against giving offence, with a “peradventure, such and such persons will withdraw from the church, and withhold hereafter their support.” The people of God were poor and feeble, and, from various causes, had dwindled down to a solitary disheartened few. They knew very well if God did not interfere, and vouchsafe a revival, their church, in that place, must become extinct. The dear people felt their feebleness, but they were loyal at heart, and stood by us. Some could do but little, as it regarded vocal prayer, but they could weep and pray secretly; not unlike a little girl, of whom I heard the Rev. Dr. Beaumont relate the following anecdote, in Liverpool: Four children, three brothers and a little [sister] were enjoying a ramble along the banks of a river, when one of the boys accidentally fell into the water; just as he was sinking, another little brother plunged in for his rescue, and when they were both struggling in the stream, the other brother reached out his hand, and caught the second brother, who was about to sink also; and, by the good providence of God, both found bottom, and crawled ashore. When they arrived at home, the glad father, who had learned the jeopardy of his children, called them around him, and inquired of one, “Well, what did you do to save your drowning brother?” “I plunged into the water after him, Sir,” was the reply. “And what did you do” he inquired of the next. “ I carried him home my back, Sir.” Turning to his little daughter, he said, “Well, my dear, and what did you do to save your drowning brother?” She replied, “I fell a crying, papa, as hard as I was able, all the time.” Aye, and perhaps her tears and cries prompted her little brothers to these desperate and successful efforts for the rescue of their sinking brother. Be this us it may, we felt ourselves stimulated to “deeds of noble daring,” by the tears and cries of this precious little flock.

During eight or nine days, sinners were thus battered by the artillery of the law, and assailed on every side by the offers of the gospel. Every appeal made to their fears was followed by another to their hopes. Hell and its horrors sin and its penalties, glared around, while Calvary and its scenes were held forth as pledges of hope and salvation. If they wept not, we did, as Christ was set forth, evidently crucified before their eyes: -

“Jesus drinks the bitter cup,
The wine -press treads alone,
Tears the graves and mountains up,
By his expiring groan.
Well may heaven be cloth’d in black,
And solemn sackcloth wear;
Jesus’ agonies partake,
The hour of darkness share:
Mourn th’ astonish’d hosts above;
Silence saddens all the skies;
Kindler of seraphic love,
The God of angels dies.
O, my God, he dies for me,
I feel the mortal smart!
See him hanging on the tree,
A sight that breaks my heart:
O that all to thee might turn;
Sinners, ye may love him too;
Look on him ye pierced, and mourn
For one who bled for you.
Weep o’er your desire and hope,
With tears of humblest love:” ?

“Behold,” we cried, as sin still occupied the ground and sinners still remained hard and unsubdued, “Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world -see an expiring Saviour! God is now in Christ reconciling you to himself, not imputing your trespasses unto you.

‘O believe the record true,
God to you his Son hath given!
Ye may now be happy too;
Find on earth the life of heaven:
Live the life of heaven above,
All the life of glorious love!’

Plead the merits of his death, O sinners! Behold your pardoning God! He is ready to blot out your transgressions as a thick cloud; your sins and your iniquities will he remember no more. Believe, only believe, and yours is the right and title to the kingdom of heaven.”

Think me not tedious, my dear brother, nor over particular in descending to such a minute detail as to the manner of our address to these sinners. It was, indeed, a regular siege, and an important one. We now were making full proof of our ministry, and pushing our tremendous principles to those results intended by the Author of them. Hell and heaven were perpetually before our eyes. The danger of that eternal damnation to which these sinners were every moment exposed, absorbed our every thought. We knew no other method by which to save them from the perdition that awaited them but this, nor did we want any other. Our triumphant boast “ I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation unto every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek;” and we were determined not to stir from the place till the power of that gospel was realized, and acknowledged by angels, devils, and men.

Never, I assure you, did a besieging army bombard a city with greater confidence of beholding surrender, than we felt when beleaguering these sinners. Speculations were never more rife, outside the walls of a besieged city, as to what part of the walls would be likely to give way and cause a breach, than were the speculations among some, as to what sinner, or what class of sinners, would first break down under the truth, and cause a gap in the ranks of sin. As the crisis approached, our congregations increased; our all-absorbing feelings seemed to pervade the people, but none had sufficient courage to brave the gaze of the multitude, and separate himself as a stricken sinner.

Night had succeeded to night, and day-to-day, without any conversions. The sword of the Lord appeared to us as if blunted against the hardened mass; the arrows of truth rebounded from flinty hearts as if they had been shot against a stonewall.

The time of extremity was God’s opportunity. Is there anything too hard for Jehovah? “Nothing but quite impossible, is hard.” “God is terrible out of his holy places,” says the psalmist. He speaks, and it is done; he commands, and it stands fast. “Pompey boasted,” said one, “that with one stamp of his foot he could raise all Italy in arms; but God, with one word of his mouth, could raise, not all Italy only, but all heaven.” He is wonderful in working. He humbles human pride, and secures his own glory, by rendering our plans and efforts useless for a time, and bringing about his purposes by the humblest and weakest instrumentality. One of our company, a minister, in the course of his visitations from house to house, thought proper to extend his visits of mercy to a blacksmith’s shop, in which were several men at work; most of whom were very wicked; the voice of profane swearing often sounded out from it horribly. One of the young men was shoeing a horse when our friend entered, and did not observe his approach. He suddenly advanced, and whispered sharply in the ear of the busy sinner, “You must have your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace.” The man was taken by surprise, as much, perhaps, as if the horse had struck him. He hastily raised his head, discovered the author of this strange salute, dropped it again, muttered something, and fell a hammering a nail into the shoe violently. The word was a nail fastened in a sure place. The Spirit of God was there, and drove it into the sinner’s heart. The minister left the shop without saying any more. That night the man mingled with the crowd who entered the church, and, at the close of the sermon presented himself as a distressed and condemned sinner, soliciting “prayer and help.” A number of others, quite as unhappy as himself, were soon by his side, when they all raised their cry together, “Lord have mercy!” This was the hour of our triumph. Now we witnessed a scene, which repaid us for all our toil. The young smith, with many more, obtained salvation the same evening. From that night the work of God went on in majesty and power.

It was now, and from this time, that we saw those great truths, which other ministers were contented to preach from Sabbath to Sabbath, and from year to year, without beholding any visible effects, invested with a potency which was, indeed, glorious, mighty, and almost irresistible. The moment a sinner came within range of its influence, he was affected. Many a stout and stubborn adversary was felled to the ground, and roared for mercy, as if he was going quickly into hell. We had evidence before our eyes, the most convincing, that if the people of God set their hearts upon a revival, and use the proper means, they cannot fail to obtain their desire. Their feebleness, in every worldly sense in which the term may be used, will be no obstacle. If they depend upon the aid of the Holy Ghost, fast and pray, and employ every other method authorized in the word of God, earth and hell combined cannot hinder a revival. The prayer must prevail: -

“Like mighty winds and torrents fierce,
Let it opposers all o’errun,
And every law of sin reverse.” -

Let the ministers of any particular church trample under foot that silly objection, that extraordinary means will throw discredit upon the ordinary. Rather let them decide, that the former, if successful, must, in the nature of the case, confer honour upon the ordinary services. Uncommon efforts, justify, to the fullest extent, those endeavours, which are put forth in the common services of the sanctuary; but that they do impart a significancy and a power to the regular services of the future, is now a fact well attested. Let them, then, break boldly through, and no more confine themselves to the limits of Sabbath preaching, but take a firm stand before the congregation in reference to a revival. The doors of the house of God must be thrown open for daily and nightly preaching. Let them be simple of heart, and aim at one thing, the conversion of sinners. Ordinary sermons, however, they must know, will not be suitable for such services, unless they desire to preach to empty pews. Extraordinary plans and movements will demand an extraordinary kind of preaching. We do not expect to see snow in harvest; nor the sea, smooth as glass, and calm as a fishpond, when a storm is out upon its surface. I need not multiply words or figures. You know what I mean. I would recommend the style of preaching, and means, which I have hinted at in this letter when describing our efforts for the great revival in question. If the people of God unite with their ministers, and encourage them by their presence and prayers, while they are preaching fearlessly, vigorously, and pointedly, those great truths likely to awaken and convert men, the arm of God will soon be made bare in a great revival. I would urge the continuation of the meeting for weeks, with or without success. Whether the congregations are large or small, I would continue the meetings. Though sinners were as wicked as devils, and as hard and senseless, or stupid, as the seats of the chapel, I would continue the meetings, and preach on, every night, with an undying trust in the promises of God. Magna est veritas et praevalebit, -Great is truth, and it shall prevail. Let them thus go on repeating the blow, “Victory or death,” and they shall see a revival; such a turning to God, such an in-gathering of souls to the fold of Christ, as will gladden the hearts of all who believe; while the scene will spread a tide of holy joy over all the inhabitants of heaven. Luke xv. 10.