“Ay, anyone but me,” said Pritchard. “But the revelation was made to
me--I take no glory to myself. The great and terrible Day of the Lord
cometh next Monday, and they shall cry unto the rocks to fall on them
and the mountains to cover them. What other place could that refer to if
not Ruthallion and Porthawn; is't not that Buthallion is in the heart of
the hills and Porthawn the place of rocks?”
With all gentleness Wesley spoke to the man of the great need there was
for caution on the part of anyone venturing to assign times and seasons
to such prophecies as had been uttered respecting the mystery of
the Last Judgment. He tried to show him that however strong his own
conviction was on the subject of the Revelation, he should hold his
peace, for fear of a mistake being made and enemies being afforded a
reason for railing against the cause which they all had at heart. The
interpretation of prophecy, he said, was at all times difficult and
should certainly not be lightly attempted even by those men who had
spent all their lives dealing with the subject, with the light of
history to guide them. Nothing could exceed the tact, patience and
gentleness with which the pastor pleaded with this erring one of his
flock--the miller and Jake Pullsford were amazed at his forbearance;
they learned a lesson from him which they never forgot. He was patient
and said no word of offence all the time that they were waxing irritable
at the foolishness of the man who sat shaking his head now and again,
and pursing out his lips after the manner of pig-headed ignorance when
objecting to the wisdom of experience.
It was all to no purpose that Wesley spoke. The man listened, but
criticised with the smile of incredulous superiority on his face almost
all the time that Wesley was speaking--it varied only when he was
shaking his head, and then throwing it back defiantly. It was all to no
purpose.
“You are right, Mr. Wesley, in some ways,” he cried. “But you talk of
the interpretation of prophecy. Well, that is within your sphere, and I
durstn't stop you so far. Ay, but I am not an interpreter of prophecy--I
am the very prophet himself. Friends, said not I the truth to you this
hour past--how I felt as it were a burst of flame within me, whereby I
knew that I had been possessed of the spirit of prophecy? The gift of
water-finding, which has been mine since my youth, was only bestowed
upon the major prophets, Moses being the chief; and when I read of
Elijah, who in the days of the grievous water famine was enabled by
the exercise of his gift, and guided by the hand of the Lord, to find
water--even the running brook Chereth--in the midst of a land that was
dusty dry, all unworthy doubt was set at rest. Is it not written that
Elijah, the prophet, was to come back to earth to warn the people of the
Great Day being at hand?”
“Dear friend, stay thy tongue for a moment--say not words that might not
be forgiven thee even by the Most Merciful,” cried Wesley.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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