“It was, I believe, in October, 1790, and not long before his death, that I heard John Wesley in the great round meeting-house at Colchester. He stood in a wide pulpit, and on each side stood a minister, and the two held him up, having their hands under his armpits. His feeble voice was hardly audible. But his reverend countenance, especially his long white locks, formed a picture never to be forgotten. There was a vast crowd of lovers and admirers. It was, for the most part, pantomime, but the pantomime went to the heart. Of the kind, I never saw anything comparable to it in after life.”—p. 19. This incident was never forgotten by Robinson. He often related it at his own table, with the addition, that so greatly was Wesley reverenced, that the people stood in double line to see him as he passed through the streets on his way to the chapel. In a letter written at the time to one of his brothers, he gave the following particulars of the same occurrence: “At another time, and not knowing the man, I should almost have ridiculed his figure. Far from it now. I look on him with respect bordering on enthusiasm.”
“After the people had sung a verse of a hymn, he rose and said: ‘It gives me great pleasure to find that you have not lost your singing. Neither men nor women—you have not forgotten a single note. And I hope that by the assistance of the same God who enables you to sing well, you may do all things well.’ A universal ‘Amen’ followed. At the end of every head or division of his discourse, he finished by a kind of prayer, a momentary wish, as it were, not consisting of more than three or four words, which were always followed by a universal buzz. His discourse was short, the text I could not hear. After the last prayer he rose up and addressed the people on liberality of sentiment, and spoke much against refusing to join with any congregation on account of difference of opinion. He said, ‘If they do but fear God, work righteousness, and keep his commandments, we have nothing to object to.’—Diary of Henry Crabb Robinson.