Methodism in Earnest

James Caughey

DEAR FRIEND: -You will feel interested to hear, where I have been, and what I have been doing, since I last saw you. I obtained liberty from Conference to visit Europe, (June 24th, 1840,) but having some of my temporal affairs to arrange, I did not leave the United States till the 17th of September. On that evening I sailed from Burlington, Vt., in the steamer Burlington, Capt. Sherman; -walked the deck till midnight, agitated with a great variety of emotions, and distressed with many conflicts. My way seemed dark and mysterious. Rough weather setting in, drove me to my berth, sick. The next morning I landed at St. John’s. I had been invited to visit that town, and an offer of accommodation had been made to me. Yet I thought it most prudent, all things considered, to go direct to the hotel.

The next day was rainy, and the weather continued wet for three days in succession. I found the place had been deserted by the Methodist preachers as hopeless. There was no chapel, and the little class had been broken up and scattered. A strong desire to remain a few days, and by God’s help to do some good, induced me to make arrangements accordingly. Preaching was appointed in a private house, but very few attended; and for several nights little or no effect was produced, and no increase of congregation. I kept up good heart till Sabbath; when the enemy came in like a flood. My soul was sorely buffeted, and my prospects covered with gloom. Two ideas were continually before my mind.

First. That I had done wrong in asking permission to take this tour.

Second. It is going to be a total failure, as it respects the conversion of sinners.

The devil roared against me, and my heart sank within me. Providentially, I had in my possession a volume written by an old Scotch divine. I took it up and opened on his comment upon the second verse of the one hundredth Psalm, “Serve the Lord with gladness.” “Your serving him doth not glorify him, unless it be with gladness. A Christian’s cheerful looks glorify God. We glorify God by walking cheerfully. It is a glory to God, when the world sees a Christian hath that within him that can make him cheerful in the worst times. He can, with the nightingale, sing with a thorn at his breast. The people of God have ground of cheerfulness. They are justified, and instated into adoption, and this creates inward peace; it makes music within, whatever storms are without. If we consider what Christ hath wrought for us by his blood, and wrought in us by his Spirit, it is a ground of cheerfulness; and this cheerfulness glorifies God. It reflects upon a master, when the servant is always drooping and sad; sure he is kept at hard commons; his master does not give him what is fitting: so when God’s people hang their harps on willows, sure they do not serve a good master, and repent of their choice; this reflects dishonour upon God. As the gross sins of the wicked bring scandal upon the gospel, so do the un-cheerful lives of the godly. Religion doth not take away our joy, but refines and clarifies it. It doth not break our viol, but it tunes and makes our music sweeter.” I need scarcely tell you that I felt ashamed of myself. My heart was much comforted. The dark cloud floated away, and sunshine spread its brightness over all the prospects of my tour, both in Canada and Europe.

Finding I could make no impression upon the population in a private house I looked around for another place. In a few hours an old deserted tannery building presented itself. It was almost filled with lumber and tan bark. Two good women, who washed for the steamboats, offered to help me to clean it out. They brought along with them two Canadian girls, their servants. I threw off my coat and went to work, hired a Canadian to cart some benches, and before night we had the place ready for preaching.

The report circulated, the population got interested, and the next night I had a good congregation. A few pointed appeals brought some of them to tears. I cannot give you all the particulars, but sinners were awakened daily and converted to God. A class was formed of fifty-three members. Myself and another brother went from house to house in order to raise a subscription to build a chapel, and succeeded to the amount of nearly seven hundred dollars. So, after spending three weeks, and preaching twenty-six sermons, I bade the little flock farewell on the 8th of October, leaving them in the care of two class-leaders. I had been only a few days in St. John’s, when I was invited to another hotel, kept by Mrs. Watson. Upon offering to pay my bill, she would not accept a penny. May the Lord reward her in the resurrection! She also cheerfully and generously subscribed to the chapel.

On the night of the 8th of October, I preached at La Prairie, a village on the banks of the St. Lawrence, opposite Montreal. There was a very gracious influence during the service, and I trust good was done. Next morning I crossed the river to Montreal. Here I received a hearty welcome from many of my old friends.

My first acquaintance with this people was formed in 1835, when about four hundred sinners were converted to God. I also revisited them in 1837, during another revival, and spent a month. I was kindly entertained during my stay this time, first at the house of John Mathewson, Esq., and then at the house of James Farrier, Esq. Precious families! I shall long remember with gratitude their kindness. Spent eighteen days, preached eighteen sermons, and about twenty souls were converted to God. There were for some time, strong and convincing signs of an extensive revival, as though God intended to shake the whole city, but the devil created discord. The people of God were not united. Some wished me to stay, while others greatly desired I should “depart out of their coasts.” About this time the Lord stirred up the brethren at Quebec to cry to God for a revival. My kind friend, the Rev. William M. Harvard, being Superintendent, informed them that I was in Montreal; and, at his suggestion, they unanimously invited me to pay them a visit. My way being hedged up most singularly at Montreal, I quietly bade them farewell, and went aboard a steamer about nine o’clock on the night of the 27th October. My heart was deeply affected with the kindness of many of my friends; I could mention their names, but, as they are strangers to you, it is perhaps unnecessary. They are, however, very, very dear to my heart.

“Ah! There are spirits in this fretful world,
Which grow not old, and change not with the seasons.”

When morning light came, I found I had mistaken the vessel, and had got aboard a freight steamer, which had three vessels in tow; a ship, a brig, and a barge. Everything indicated we were going to have a tedious passage. To help the matter, when we were near the centre of lake St. Peter’s, the pilot got deceived by the lighthouse-ship, which had drifted from her moorings, by a heavy gale, a few hours before. So he steered by the false guide, as some Christians do by backslidden or unconverted ministers; and so get on the shallows, as we did. The ship we had in tow struck, and stuck fast. Finding her unmovable, we were compelled to remain in the lake all night, and lighten the ship. The captain reproached the pilot, that in the blaze of day he should run so blindly out of the channel. The poor pilot laid the blame on the light-ship, as Adam did on Eve. Then I reflected thus: -

Ministers and old professors may be compared to that lightship. Two passages will confirm the application. Phil. iii. 17. “Brethren, be followers together of me, and mark them which walk so as ye have us for an ensample.” Phil. ii. 15, 16. “That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world; holding forth the word of life; that I may rejoice in the day of Christ, that I have not run in vain, neither laboured in vain.” An able writer comments upon “holding forth the word of life,” thus: “An allusion, some think, to those towers which were built at the entrance of harbours, on which fires were kept during the night, to direct ships into port. Genuine Christians, by their holy lives and conversation, are the means of directing others, not only how to escape those dangers to which they are exposed on the tempestuous ocean of human life, but also of leading them into the haven of eternal safety and rest. ‘That I have not run in vain.’ This appears to be a part of the same metaphor; and alludes to the case of a weather-beaten mariner, who has been long tossed on a tempestuous sea, in hazy weather and dark nights; who has been obliged to run on different tacks, and labour intensely to keep his ship from foundering; but is, at last, by the assistance of a luminous fire on the top of the tower, directed safely into the port.”

The meaning of these passages is evident. The word towers, in the above extract, is very expressive. I wish all the lovers of Christ were as permanent. I have often admired the lines,

“Strong in thy strength I’ll stand a tower,
Impregnable to earth or hell.”

Alas! they mostly resemble these floating lights; and, much as the event may jeopardize others, they are too often driven from their mooring. Now, I thought, so long as they keep in the right channel of life, in the position designed them by God; their anchorage ground, the Bible and the atonement; their anchor, the hope of eternal life; faith their cable, reaching unto that which entereth within the vail; Heb. vi. 19; in the meantime holding up the light of profession, supported by a holy life and godly conversation; then, indeed, they are lights and guides, which may be depended upon.

But should they be set adrift by the storms of temptation, break their cable, or drag their anchor into the regions of error, keeping up at the same time the old lamp of profession; then, if we depend upon and steer our course by them, we shall most assuredly get aground upon the shallows of lukewarm-ness and spiritual death, or upon the rocks of open sin, and make shipwreck of faith and of a good conscience.

Now, I continued to reflect, what these landmarks should have been to our pilot, the Bible is designed to be to all sincere Christians. “Thy word,” says the Psalmist, “is a lamp to my feet, and a light unto my path.” And, says St. Peter, “We have also a more sure word of prophecy; whereunto ye do well that ye take heed as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, until the day dawn, and the day-star arise in your hearts.” Our pilot should have tried the position of that light-ship, by the adjacent landmarks, before he had ventured to follow it; and we should endeavour to ascertain the scriptural character of the doctrines, lives, and experience, of all ministers and Christians, who offer to guide us, before we entrust our souls to their care. God will no more excuse us for having been led astray by any of them, than our captain would the unhappy pilot. “If the blind lead the blind,” says Jesus, “they shall both fall into the ditch,” that is, into hell! That vessel with her light was once, and only a few hours ago, in the best position she could occupy; but what shall we say of those professed ministers of Christ, and those nominal Christians, who, by their own confession, allow they have never been born again, and who positively deny that any man can know his sins forgiven; but who, at the same time, attempt to direct others in the way to heaven?

This deceitful light-ship occasioned the running two vessels aground; and the rest had to tarry beside them during along and dark night, while we served as beacons to other vessels, which passed us in the darkness. Such clergymen and professors ruin thousands of immortal souls.

The night becoming cold and dark, I left the deck, and spent a few hours in the main cabin, reading and writing very comfortably. Yesterday morning we again got under weigh, and continued our course down the river. Night brought on bad weather, with rain and deep darkness, so we crept towards the shore, and lay in a place of shelter till morning. We are now moving forward, and hope to arrive at Quebec this afternoon. I have an elegant and spacious cabin almost to myself, for the passengers are few. My time is employed in writing, reading, and praying. This season of rest is most refreshing to my body, and God is deepening his work in my soul.

The narrative is continued in the following letter written from the city of Quebec, Lower Canada.

My last was dated aboard the steamer on my way to this city. I landed on the same day about three o’clock in the afternoon. The society had received information that I had left Montreal for Quebec, and were waiting for me in the large school-room adjoining the chapel. Brother Selley, the junior preacher, met me on the quay; we walked straight to the chapel, where I preached from, 1 John ii. 1-3. I received a most hearty welcome from my old friends, and from none more than from my warm friend Mr. Harvard.

Many changes have taken place since I was here last. You have heard me speak of my Quebec home at Mr. M’Leod’s. He and his dear wife gave me a most cordial welcome. I felt at home the moment I entered their house. On retiring to my room, I found that the God of Jacob had not forsaken their dwelling. In a moment I was filled with love and joy. I came down stairs praising God. Mrs. M’L looked at me, but said nothing. The Spirit of God was working most powerfully upon her soul. She had lost the blessing of entire sanctification; but a few days after this she obtained it again. She then told me, “When you came into our house, I was anxious to see whether you still retained the holiness and simplicity you had when here last. I was not quite sure about it; but when you came down stairs, praising God, I was then convinced that years had made no change in your religious character. I was greatly troubled at my own conscious loss. My spirit had no rest till I told you my unhappy state of mind. The Lord assisted you in spreading my case before him, and now I have regained all I had lost.” I rejoice to tell you that there are many such heavenly-minded spirits in this city. We have a precious society here. I say WE, because the Methodist people are ONE the world over. The Quebec Methodists, however, are the most loving people I have ever met, and the most devoted to God.

We have had a severe conflict since my arrival. During the first few weeks the devil threatened to drive us from the field. Sinners were as hard as marble. It seemed as if we could make no impression whatever upon them. As this was no new scene to me, I felt confident, if the people of God would only stand by me in mighty prayer, the arm of God would be made bare in the conversion of sinners.

They did stand by me, nor did they flinch a moment till we had the victory. The weapons of our warfare were “not carnal, but mighty through God, to the pulling down of strongholds; casting down imaginations, and every high thing that would exalt itself against the knowledge of Christ.” Ten sermons a week, with many exhortations, were discharged against the dark works of the devil. Many sinners, who were awakened when I was here in 1835, remembered their old terrors, and avoided our meetings, and did what they could to hinder others. Wretched souls! I believe that, some of them were kept out of hell all these years that they might have an opportunity to see and feel the power of a revival in 1840. The Lord, however, drove sinners under the word. The burning truths of God were thrown into their entrenchments incessantly. Day and night they were cannonaded. Many of the wicked were wounded, and fled in terror, crying out, “They are mad! They are mad!” but their places were filled up by others. Hard things were spoken against us; but they did not move us. The people of God carried victory in their very faces. It was a scene of awful grandeur. When their faith was at a climax, oh! How they sang, -

“We are soldiers, fighting for our God,
Let trembling cowards fly;
We’ll stand unshaken, firm and fixed,
For Christ to live and die.

“Let devils rage, and hell assail,
We’ll fight our passage through;
Let foes unite, let friends desert,
We’ll seize the crown, our due.”

At last there arose a general cry among the wicked. Sinners were cut to pieces on every hand; and since then the revival has spread among the people with astonishing power. High and low, rich and poor, learned and unlearned; old and young, are seen at the altar of God pleading for mercy. About the time of our hardest conflict, as I was standing within the communion rail, looking upwards to the gallery, I noticed two young men trifling. I learned afterwards that the cause was this: As I was looking up, one of the young men said to the other, “I should not be surprised if that chap,” meaning me, “will come up here.”

This caused the other sinner to burst into a laugh. Instantly it was suggested to my mind, “Go up, go up.” I did so, and the one who had made the remark, looking over his shoulder, as I appeared on the gallery, exclaimed, “I say, if he is not coming!”

I advanced rapidly, and they could not get away. I put my hands upon them, and urged them to flee from the wrath to come. The one who had been the chief speaker was greatly agitated, and the next night was at the altar in great distress. He obtained mercy from God, and has joined the society. What the result will be with the other I know not.

I was informed the other day, that an officer of the garrison came to one of our meetings, to see what truth there was in the strange reports he had heard. There was a powerful influence from God upon the people that night. Poor fellow! he felt it also, but got frightened and fled from the chapel. He told a friend afterwards, “Why, Sir, I was sitting in the congregation, and I saw that man,” meaning me, “coming. He put his two hands upon a man’s head, and prayed over him, and then took him to the altar. Well, Sir, he came again and did the same to another; and then to another; and he was coming straight to do the same to me; but, Sir, I started from my seat, and ran out of the chapel, and along the street as hard as I could; a thing I have never yet done before an enemy.” So true is that saying, “The wicked flee when no man pursueth.”

The devil is losing his servants daily. A few nights ago a man of extensive business was present at the chapel. His wife, a few days before, had been converted to God. She had long been a member of the Church of England, but had never been “born again.” He was very uneasy about his soul; but the devil would not let him come forward to be prayed for. When the meeting was over, and we were almost worn out, he came forward to the altar to tell me how hard his heart was. Now, thought I, the devil has kept this poor sinner in his seat all this time, because he knew that if he should come forward to be prayed for, he would never get out of our hands till he was converted to God; and now the devil has permitted him to come, because he thinks we are too tired to begin a second prayer meeting. I called to the brethren; they were on the spot immediately; the sinner was surrounded with praying men: “Now, down upon your knees, man, and cry for mercy.” The second prayer meeting continued till late; the devil lost him. Next day he had some doubts, and he sent a message to me, saying, that he wanted to converse on the witness of the Spirit. I requested him to be present at the afternoon sermon, and, after which, I would converse with him. He attended; but when the sermon was over I found him happy. God had explained the doctrine to him during the discourse, by sending his Spirit into his heart, crying, Abba, Father.

I think about one hundred and fifty persons have passed from death unto life. I understand that about twenty-five believers have experienced the blessedness of those who are pure in heart. A few evenings ago, I heard a holy woman sing the following lines, with heaven beaming on her countenance. I know not whether you have ever seen them, but they were quite new to me.

“ There remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God.” -Heb. iv. 9.

TUNE -“HOME, SWEET HOME.”

My rest is in heaven, my rest is not here,
Then why should I murmur when trials are near;
Be hushed my dark spirit, the worst that can come
But shortens thy journey, and hastens thee home.

It is not for me to be seeking my bliss,
And building my hopes in a region like this;
I look for a city, which hands have not piled;
I pant for a country by sin undefiled.

The thorn and the thistle around me may grow;
I would not lie down upon roses below:
I ask not a portion, I seek not my rest,
Till I find them forever in Jesus’s breast.

Afflictions may damp me, but cannot destroy;
One glimpse of his love turns them all into joy;
And the bitterest tears, if he smile but on them,
Like dew in the sunshine, turn diamond or gem.

Let doubt then and danger my progress oppose,
They only make heaven more sweet at the close;
Come joy, or come sorrow, whate’er may befall,
One hour with my God will make up for it all.
A scrip on my back, and a staff in my hand;
I march on in haste through an enemy’s land;
The road may be rough, but it cannot be long;
And I’ll smooth it with hope, and I’ll cheer it with song.

The above is my experience. My soul is happy.