CHAPTER XIX.

Methodist Lovefeast.

Methodism has created new institutions and coined new words to express the object of them. The lovefeast is purely Methodistic: it is a meeting of Christian people belonging to one or more societies, where they relate their religious experience, and bear their testimony to the worth and influence of Divine grace in the soul.

Under the conduct of a minister, or someone duly appointed for the purpose, the meeting is opened with singing and prayer; then, while the people are sitting, bread and water are distributed to all present, to suggest that believers are members of one great family, and partners in the same spiritual provision made by Christ who gave Himself to be the Bread of Life for men. When this is done the offerings of the people are gathered, usually for the poor of the Lord's flock. The formalities ended, the meeting is thrown open for the relation of Christian experience, and any one speaks that is prompted.

In every period of Methodism the lovefeast has been a precious and popular means of grace. These meetings are held all through the country, every little church taking care to have its quarterly or annual lovefeast. And it is remarkable what a hold some of these meetings have upon the people; ten, or even twenty miles, have not been considered too great a distance to be travelled in order to be present at some of them, even though the entire journey has had to be performed on foot. Men and women, some of them stricken in years and bowed down with the toils and cares of a long and hard life, have joyfully walked many a weary mile for the pleasure of attending a lovefeast; old people, leading their grand-children by the hand, and telling them of the stirring times of early Methodism; younger people in groups, singing revival hymns as they plod steadily along the dusty or miry roads under melting sun or pelting rains, making their way to these attractive and soul-stirring meetings, contending against every obstacle and overcoming every hindrance, determined to be there and do honour to the Divine Master, who said, "Ye are my witnesses."

There have been some of the grandest manifestations of Divine power at these gatherings, as seen and felt in the sweet, gentle, and unconscious melting of feelings, until the whole congregation has been broken down to tears and songs of joy and praise; or coming suddenly upon them as a "rushing mighty wind," without sound or sign, save in the bending of heads, the breaking of hearts, the streaming tears, and the adoring responses of the people. Then, believers have caught the spark of sanctifying fire from God Himself, and declared it; then, men have been endued with the gift of tongues, and spoken with apostolic power; then, sinners, drawn into the place by the peculiar attractions of the occasion, have felt their souls shaken by Divine energy, like forest trees in a tempest, and trembling, bending, rending, breaking, have fallen in the storm of Heaven's mercy, and cried for help and found it. Oh, how many there are now in glory or on the way, of whom it may be said, "Convicted in a lovefeast! converted in a lovefeast! sanctified in a lovefeast!" Their name is "legion, for they are many." Hallelujah!

Some things among the usages of the churches we may perhaps afford to dispense with and suffer no loss, but not this glorious means of grace. If in any place they have lost their power, the fault is not in the institution, but in the Church; religious declension is the greatest enemy to this good old custom. If the Lord's people return to their first love, the lovefeast will resume its former glory and power. Oh, Lord, "wilt Thou not revive us again, that Thy people may rejoice in Thee?"

Methodism cannot afford to forsake her old ways for new and untried ones; they are intelligent, proper, and essentially Christian. Lovefeasts are the olive branch which we have received from the revered hands of our fathers and mothers in the faith, not to be cast away, but to be prized and kept as a mark of our love for them, for each other, and for Christ our Saviour; and though the green branch which they left us may be somewhat faded, and its leaves droop in our moistureless hands, though it has lost some of the freshness it had when it first came to our keeping, thank God! thank God! it is not dead, it lives! and can be revived. It wants more moisture; sprinkle tear-drops of penitence upon its shrunken foliage; let the springs of our sympathy once more flow over it; let us ask God to give us the "upper and the nether springs," that _His_ love and ours may flow out in one united stream; let us come to that stream, near, nearer, to the brink, and olive branch in hand, plunge in, refresh ourselves, and revivify the blessed, beautiful, and sacred symbol.

There was no meeting in which Little Abe was more at home than a lovefeast; whether as conductor or in a private capacity,--if such a term can be applied to Abe,--he gloried in a rousing lovefeast. His love for these meetings and his aptitude in conducting them occasioned a great demand for his presence. He had such a way of interspersing enlivening comments between the speakers. He was a good singer, too, and was always ready with some hymn expressive of the feeling of the meeting. Then he had the power to make everyone feel at home, so that he was the very man to lead a lovefeast, although he did sometimes say things that would shock very orderly and circumspect persons.

DEVIL DIDN'T POP THEE.

Little Abe was leading a lovefeast in Berry Brow Chapel; the place was crowded, people had come from far and near; the Holy Spirit was present in great power; there was no lack of witnesses, two or three being often on their feet together waiting for an opportunity to speak. Little Abe, as he said, "was fair swabbing o'er," he wept for joy.

A young man at length rose to relate his Christian experience. He had but lately been converted to Jesus, and before that had been a very wicked, drunken, degraded character. He proceeded to say what the Lord had done for him, how He had found him in his sins and misery, and taken hold of him when hardly any one else would look at him, except a policeman, who felt as if he had a sort of right to him, and often found him board and lodgings for a few weeks. At the time of his conversion he was almost naked, and absolutely destitute; said he, "I had popt" (pawned) "my coat, and popt my shoes, my vest, my shirt, and everything on which I could raise money, and I was almost in hell." This was more than Abe could sit under; he sprang to his feet and exclaimed, "It's a rare job th' devil didn't pop thee and all, my lad! Praise th' Lord!" The young man fell on his seat and vented his gratitude in a fresh burst of tears, and many an eye in that meeting ran over as well.

RELIGION ALL HUMBUG.

Little Abe once got up in a lovefeast. "Friends," said he, "a man asked me what I made so mich noise abaat religion for; he said, 'It's all humbug,' and I said, 'Thaa'rt roight for once, mon; it's th' sweetest humbug that iver I tasted. I have been sucking it for mony a lang year, and it is sweeter than iver.'" (Humbug is the Yorkshire name for sweets and goodies). It was just in Abe's way to turn the tables on his assailant, and certainly in this case the Little Bishop had the best of the encounter, and the joy of the humbug as well.

PENITENT PHYSIC.

The Bishop was leading a lovefeast in Shelley Chapel (where it is said that the Rev. John Wesley once preached), and one of the speakers had been a backslider, but had determined to return to the Lord. This man was telling the meeting his bitter sorrow, and how he had drunk of the wormwood and gall of repentance, and as he spoke tears ran chasing each other down his face. "Bless th' Lord," said Little Abe, "I see my Father has been giving the' some penitent physic, and it's made the' 'een" (eyes) "run. Ne'er moind, lad, He'll heal thee heart, and wipe' away all tears from thee 'een.'"

HONLEY FEAST MONDAY.

The Honley feast is one of the remaining relics of byegone times, and is tenaciously kept year by year throughout the parish as a holiday. It begins with Sunday, and extends over the greater part of the week, during which time the people enjoy themselves in ways suited to their varied tastes, too many of them indulging in the cup which brings aching heads and empty pockets. What a pity it is that men, and even women, too, are so infatuated as to think that pleasure can only be found in drunkenness and public-house brawling! Thank God there are many who know the folly of this, and have other and better ways of finding pleasure. Ever since Salem Chapel was first built it has been the custom to hold a lovefeast there on Honley Feast Monday, and this is perhaps the most popular meeting in the whole year, and is always looked to with great interest. People come to this lovefeast from many miles around, and the chapel is invariably filled to overflowing.

This was always a great occasion with Little Abe--a real red letter day. I remember attending this annual meeting some years ago. Abe was there, and he certainly monopolised a good share of my attention. He was very happy, and kept on ringing changes with clapping, stamping, shouting, and sometimes, when under strong feelings, he pealed a clash altogether, with hand, foot, and voice. "Hey, lads!" he said, "it's grand! it gets better and better, bless th' Lord!" His face was covered with smiles from his smooth chin to his bald forehead; he never ceased smiling during all that service,--for no sooner had his joyous countenance spent itself on one pleasant thing, and the light, dancing ripples begun to subside, than something else presented itself to his notice, and another smile passed across his face like a playful breeze over a clear pool, shaking up the waves again; and so on he went, through all that service, with a face as bright as a sunbeam.

At length Abe rose to his feet, still smiling, and his hands clasped together; every eye was on him in a moment, and smiles and tears of joy mingled all over the chapel; the women wiped their eyes, and the men shouted, "Glory, Abe! God bless the', lad." "Friends," he began, "I am happy, I mun spaike naa, or I'st brust mysen." "Go on, Abe," came from all parts of the chapel. "Hey, my lads, I mean to go on; I'm noan going to turn back naa; it's heaven I set aat for, and heaven I mean. I've been on th' road aboon fifty years, and I'st get t' th' end afore lang." And then he went on to say how glad he was to see them there once more, and to see the place full of earnest worshippers. "You knaw it warn't always soa. I can remember when we wor just a few, but we agreed to pray for a revival, and gie th' Lord no rest until we should mak' His arm bare amang us. We started a prayer-meeting on Sunday mornings at five o'clock to th' minute, and they that worn't there at time should be locked aat. Well, yo' know, I wor' baan to be at that meeting. So I telled aar Sally on Saturday noight I mun be up i' th' morning at half-past four. Well, wod yo' believe it, I waked abaat five minutes to five. I wor aat o' bed in a wink, and shoved my feet in my stockings, and then on wi' my breeks, scratted up my booits" (boots) "i' my hand, and off I ran in my stocking feet. When I gat hoalf-way up th' Braa th' clock struck five, and I pushed one fooit in my booit, fastened up my gallasses, and ran on agean panting up th' hill, and just as I came t' th' gate I saw th' chapel door shut in my face, so I wor locked aat; but I wor noan baan to looise my meeting. While they insoid wor getting ready, I finished dressing mysen. By-and-bye I hears one on 'em give aat a hymn, and I clapped my ear t' th' key-hoil and listened for th' words, and then I put my maath to th' hoil and sang with 'em, and so I kept on until they began to pray. Then I listened, and shaated Amen through th' hoil, and kept on while iver they prayed. At last my owd friend Bradley stopped in th' middle of his prayer,--'Oppen that door,' he said, 'I canna pray with that chap shaating in at th' key-hoil that road;' so they oppened th' door, and I went in and had my meeting after all,--but yo' moind I wor niver late agean."

Our little friend will be remembered as a lovefeast man for many years to come. His name had quite grown to be associated with the Conference lovefeast of the Methodist New Connexion, and many are the affectionate references to our brother in these grand annual gatherings even to this day. His voice is not now heard as it once was, along with that of Thomas Hannam, John Shaw, and men of like spirit and notoriety; but his name is still fragrant in the affectionate memories of those who are in the habit of attending our Conference lovefeast.

"BREED 'EM YOURSENS."

Although Little Abe was no narrow-minded sectarian, he still loved to foster in the minds of his own children a preference for the people that had, under God, saved his soul, and made him what he was, and he tried to bind his family to the Church of his choice. Spending a Sunday in the town of Dewsbury, in company with a devoted brother and local preacher who is now in heaven, they were led to converse about the Community to which they both belonged. Abe said, "I was born in th' New Connexion, never aat of it, and by God's help I'st die in it, and I hope my children after me." And then, taking up an incident which his own words had called to mind, he said, "My lad went by a cheap trip to Hull t'other day, and what dost ta think wor th' first thing he axed for when he gat there?" "Don't know," replied his friend. "Why, afore he gat aat at station yard, he goes up to a man and says, 'Can yo' tell me th' way t' th' New Connexion Chapel?' Naa," he added, looking across at his friend; "if yo' want th' roight soort, yo' mun breed um yoursens;" a saying which, put into other words, simply means that if we are to have reliable members in the Church, pious parents must bring in their own children, and let them grow up in the fear of the Lord and love of His people, and the maxim is correct.