From the Journal of John Wesley

“A Terrible Sight”

Tuesday, October 23, 1739

At eleven I preached at Bearfield to about three thousand, on the spirit of nature, of bondage, and of adoption.

Returning in the evening, I was exceedingly pressed to go back to a young woman in Kingswood. (The fact I nakedly relate and leave every man to his own judgment of it.) I went.

She was nineteen or twenty years old, but, it seems, could not write or read. I found her on the bed, two or three persons holding her.  It was a terrible sight. Anguish, horror, and despair above all description appeared in her pale face. The thousand distortions of her whole body showed how the dogs of hell were gnawing her heart. The shrieks intermixed were scarcely to be endured. But her stony eyes could not weep. She screamed out, as soon as words could find their way, “I am damned, damned; lost forever! Six days ago you might have helped me. But it is past. I am the devil’s now. I have given myself to him. His I am. Him I must serve. With him I must go to hell. I will be his. I will serve him. I will go with him to hell. I cannot be saved. I will not be saved. I must, I will, I will be damned!” She then began praying to the devil. We began:

“Arm of the Lord, awake, awake!”

She immediately sank down as sleep; but, as soon as we left off, broke out again, with inexpressible vehemence: “Stony hearts, break! I am a warning to you. Break, break, poor stony hearts! Will you not break? What can be done more for stony hearts? I am damned that you may be saved. Now break, now break, poor stony hearts! You need not be damned, though I must.” She then fixed her eyes on the corner of the ceiling and said: “There he is: ay, there he is! come, good devil, come! Take me away. You said you would dash my brains out:  come, do it quickly. I am yours. I will be yours. Come just now. Take me away.”

We interrupted her by calling again upon God, on which she sank down as before; and another young woman began to roar out as loud as she had done. My brother now came in, it being about nine o’clock. We continued in prayer till past eleven, when God in a moment spoke peace into the soul, first of the first tormented, and then of the other. And they both joined in singing praise to Him who had “stilled the enemy and the avenger.”

“Yonder Comes Wesley, Galloping”

Saturday, October 27, 1739.

I was sent for to Kingswood again, to one of those who had been so ill before. A violent rain began just as I set out, so that I was thoroughly wet in a few minutes.  Just as that time the woman (then three miles off) cried out, “Yonder comes Wesley, galloping as fast as he can.” When I was come, I was quite cold and dead and fitter for sleep than prayer. She burst out into a horrid laughter and said, “No power, no power; no faith, no faith. She is mine; her soul is mine. I have her and will not let her go.”

We begged of God to increase our faith. Meanwhile her pangs increased more and more so that one would have imagined, by the violence of the throes, her body must have been shattered to pieces. One who was clearly convinced this was no natural disorder said, “I think Satan is let loose. I fear he will not stop here.” He added, “I command thee, in the name of the Lord Jesus, to tell if thou hast commission to torment any other soul.” It was immediately answered, “I have. L----y C----r and S----h J----s.” (Two who lived at some distance, and were then in perfect health.)

We betook ourselves to prayer again and ceased not till she began, about six o’clock, with a clear voice and composed, cheerful look:

“Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.”

Sunday, October 28, 1739.

I preached once more at Bradford, at one in the afternoon. The violent rains did not hinder more, I believe, than ten thousand from earnestly attending to what I spoke on those solemn words: “I take you to record this day that I am pure from the blood of all men. For I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God.”

Returning in the evening, I called at Mrs. J----‘s, in Kingswood. S----h J---s and L----y C----r were there. It was scarcely a quarter of an hour before L----y C----r fell into a strange agony; and presently after, S----h J----s. The violent convulsions all over their bodies were such as words cannot describe. Their cries and groans were too horrid to be borne, till one of them, in a tone not to be expressed, said: “Where is your faith now? Come, go to prayers. I will pray with you.  ‘Our Father, which art in heaven.’” We took the advice, from whomsoever it came, and poured out our souls before God, till L----y C----r’s agonies so increased that it seemed she was in the pangs of death. But in a moment God spoke; she knew His voice, and both her body and soul were healed.

We continued in prayer till nearly one, when S----h J----‘s voice was also changed, and she began strongly to call upon God. This she did for the greatest part of the night. In the morning we renewed our prayers, while she was crying continually, “I burn! I burn! Oh, what shall I do? I have a fire within me. I cannot bear it. Lord Jesus!  Help!”—Amen, Lord Jesus! when Thy time is come.