An Unseen Protector by W. A. S.

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Sep 3, 1914

“An Unseen Protector”

By W. A. S.

THE story of the deliverances of John Wesley from the fury of mobs, in the early days of Methodism, has often been told. But similar deliverances were experienced by his associates. The revival of the eighteenth century was a reformation, in the special order of God's providence, and God's hand was revealed, working with mighty power through many agencies. The same heavenly power that wrought in the conversion of souls in that age of rationalism and dead formalism was again and again manifested in protecting the human agents in the work.

There was John Nelson, the stone cutter, called to go to and fro preaching the gospel. At Horbury a mob had sworn to put a halter round the preacher's neck and drown him in the river. Hurst says: —

The parson's son, as captain of the mob, had six large hand bells brought from the clerk's house, and these were rung violently that his voice might not be heard. A half-crazed man, six feet tall, was to put the halter round his neck, and a butcher held the rope. Nelson only pushed the halter from his neck, and the man fell as if he had been knocked down with an ax; the butcher stood trembling, and touched him not.

A shout was raised as the constable approached to arrest him, and the bells were silenced. Without hesitating a moment, Nelson said, “I am glad you are come, and I charge you in the king's name to do your office.” He asked, “What is my office?” Nelson answered, firmly, “It is to quell this mob, and deliver me out of their hands.” The constable turned pale, and finally bade the mob be silent; said to Nelson, “Follow me,” went to the stable, led out the horse and held the stirrup, led Nelson through the crowd and bade him go in the name of the Lord! — ‘History of Methodism,’ Vol. I, page 491.

When Charles Wesley opened a meeting in the St. Ives market, in 1743, men stopped their ears and rushed at him to pull him down. “But,” he said, “they had no power to touch me.”

Four days later he was preaching in the chapel, when the rioters entered and smashed the windows and benches, leaving nothing whole but the stone walls. . . . “Several times,” he said, “they lifted up their hands and clubs to strike me, but a stronger arm restrained them.” — Id., Vol. II, page 506.

Amid another tumult, at Wednock, weapons were raised to strike him down, but he says he had “an unseen Protector.”

At Devizes, on his way to Bristol, Charles Wesley had his longest siege by a mob, stirred up by the religious prejudices of the “best people.” The crowd was gathered by the ringing of bells. A hand fire engine was used for pouring water into the house where Wesley and his companion were stopping. “Many seeming accidents,” he says, “concurred to prevent their breaking in.” The mob was a thousand strong. He says: —

We stood in jeopardy every moment. Such threatenings, curses, and blasphemy I have never heard. They seemed kept out by a continual miracle. I remembered the Roman senators sitting in the forum when the Gauls broke in upon them; but thought there was a fitter posture for Christians, and told my companion they should take us off our knees. We were kept from all hurry and discomposure of spirit by a divine power resting upon us. We prayed and conversed as freely as if we had been in the midst of our brethren; and had great confidence that the Lord would either deliver us from danger or in it. . . . They were now close to us on every side, and over our heads until the roof. A ruffian cried out, “Here they are behind the curtain.” At this moment we fully expected their appearance, and retired to the farthermost corner of the room; and I said, “This is the crisis.” In that moment Jesus rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. We heard not a breath without, and wondered what had become of them. The silence lasted for three quarters of an hour, before any one came near us; and we continued in mutual exhortation and prayer, looking for deliverance. I often told my companion, “Now God is at work for us; he is contriving our escape; he can turn these leopards into lambs; can command the heathen to bring his children on their shoulders, and make our fiercest enemies the instruments of our deliverance.” — Whitehead's “Wesley,” page 189.

In this lull, the “persecuting constable,” who had been their bitter enemy, appeared, and tried to get a promise that the preachers would not preach in that town again. They refused to make such a promise, and assured him they would surely preach the gospel again in that place if God permitted; but said they were going on now, elsewhere. This he construed as he desired into an assurance to the people that the preaching would cease, and he used his authority to disperse the mob. “We perceived that it was the Lord's doing,” wrote Wesley, “and it was marvelous in our eyes. The hearts of our adversaries were turned. Whether pity for us or fear for themselves wrought strongest, God knoweth.”

It is to be remarked in all these experiences that the prayers of faith and the clinging to the arm of God had their part in the revelation of delivering mercies. “We prayed, with little intermission, the whole day,” said Wesley, of this siege of peril at Devizes. It is living faith, and importunate faith, that lays hold upon the arm of the living God for the doing of things beyond human power.

It was out of experiences such as these that Charles Wesley wrote the hymn: —

“Other refuge have I none, Hangs my helpless soul on Thee; Leave, O leave me not alone! Still support and comfort me; All my trust on thee is stayed, All my help from thee I bring; Cover my defenseless head With the shadow of thy wing.”

W. A. S.