Original subtitles

[THEME MUSIC]

-I know you're there.

You can come out.

Ah, Tom Decker.

And what new villainy might you be planning?

Speak up!

What are you after?

-To tell you just one small, Mr. Reverend Samuel Wesley,

to get yourself gone from here.

We're sick of your ranting and your preaching.

-And if you rid yourselves of me,

do you think you could hide your evil ways from God?

Do you think that?

-I'm warning you.

I'm warning you.

-Come now, man.

Let us pray together.

-Ha!

Keep your prayers!

We haven't finished with you yet, Mr. Parson Wesley,

and don't you think it!

[DUCKS QUACKING]

[INDISTINCT CONVERSATION]

-Well, what's the matter brother John?

-God called the light day, and the darkness He called night.

And the evening and the morning were the first day.

[INDISTINCT CONVERSATION]

[CLOCK CHIMING]

[SINGING] We make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.

Serve the Lord with gladness.

Come before His presence with singing.

He is God.

It is He that hath made us, and not we ourselves.

We are His people, and the sheep of his pasture.

-Good evening, Father.

-Good evening, children.

-Supper's ready, Ma'am.

-Thank you.

You look tired, Samuel.

Something has happened.

What is it, Samuel?

Tell me.

-These people, these people.

I met the man Decker, free as usual

with his threats and curses.

He was in hiding near the church.

-They've stolen our cattle, destroyed our crops,

brought us to the brink of starvation.

Will they never leave us alone?

-Tonight before we go to bed we'll

see every door and window fastened.

There's no more we can do.

[LOCKS CLICKING]

-10 at the clock, and all is well.

[CROWD TALKING] They shall stretch my neck for this,

[INAUDIBLE] what a fool!

-Do you want everybody to hear you?

-I never knew you meant the house itself.

-I told him we hadn't finished with him.

Now we have. -But it was--

-Shut your mouth!

-Here, get some drinks.

[FIRE BURNING]

[SCREAMS]

-Father!

Father!

The roof's on fire!

Father!

Oh, Father!

-The children!

-I'll get them.

Look after your mother.

-God, save us.

-Get up!

Get up at once!

Now quickly.

Now children, your shawls and go quietly downstairs.

Hurry!

Nellie!

-Nellie, come on!

-Mr. Wesley!

The house is on fire!

-The door is locked!

-It's arson!

Come on!

The windows!

Climb through the windows!

-It's locked.

Get the keys! -The keys!

The keys!

[FIRE CRACKLING, INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS]

-John!

Where's John?

-John!

John!

-There he is!

Look, at the window!

[INDISTINCT EXCLAMATIONS]

-Come here, quick!

Get on my shoulders.

Reckon I might reach you.

-Praise be.

Oh John, my son!

God has saved you from the flame.

See, is not this a brand plucked from the burning?

[CROWD CHATTERING]

-We call him David.

David William.

-Three days ago we had a terrible storm.

We gave ourselves up for lost.

So Ann took him to the minister and had him christened.

-Silver, eh?

Heh!

What's it worth?

-A week's lodging, maybe?

-That's all you've got to show for the three years in the Americas?

-And these.

-Saints preserve us!

-Indians?

-Si, the same all over.

-You should have come straight to the house.

Your aunt--

-Oh, I could not have disturbed you so early.

Besides, there was my baggage--

-Tell me.

What of the voyage?

-So you escaped from the coast to Savannah.

-But there was no boat.

It was at Savannah that I first met the little minister.

We took a chance and set out for Port Royal?

-What, together?

With him?

-Yes.

I shall not forget.

We were lost in the swamp, having

to dig in the earth for water.

He is wonderful, that little man.

He has but to offer a prayer, and strength returns to him.

-Reverend, the carrier is here.

He goes to Faversham, well on the way to London.

-Thank you,

-You are leaving, Monsieur?

-Yes.

-I pray you one last word the blessing, Sir.

-Almighty God, we thank Thee for bringing us

in safety to our desired haven.

With hearts less overflowing, we pray Thee help us in all things

ever to be deserving of Thy mercy and Thy blessing.

Amen.

-Your Reverence--

-I'm coming.

-My respects, Sir.

I am the vicar here, and my niece

tells me your name is John Wesley.

My dear Sir, your father was my friend at Oxford.

I pray you rest with us a while.

My wife and I would--

-That is most kind of you, but alas it cannot be.

-Is this yours, Sir?

-Yes, yes.

I am just come home from the colony of Georgia.

I've told no one of my coming, not even

those to whom I am responsible.

-Oh, but a few hours--

-No, another time, Sir.

My duty is to attend the trustees of Georgia

and present them with my explanation.

(Council of Trustees for the Province of Georgia in America)

-While in Savannah.

-Ten charges against a man of God!

-It's a disgraceful matter!

-Do you mean to say that a minister sent out by us has

as being arraigned before a grand jury?

-Perhaps, My Lord, if I might.

-Yes, Colonel Oglethorpe.

Let's hear from you.

-As governor of the colony, I know

something of the situation.

And I think, Sir, we are being too hasty.

It is but a few weeks since I left America,

and I cannot speak too highly of Mr. Wesley's courage,

his loyalty, and the great service he is rendering

in that primitive and far-off land.

-Then why all the fuss?

-Savannah is not London.

Its people are pioneers, a mixed bag if ever there was one.

-As governor, did you ever hear anything against Mr. Wesley?

-Of course I did.

If you went to Savannah, Dr. Benton,

you'd hear things against me, and plenty of them.

-Then what is wrong?

-Who is to blame?

-John Wesley is an extremely zealous man.

A good fault normally.

-But out there-- [SNIFFS]

-He is fired with an ambition to create a religious community

founded upon the early apostolic church.

-Ah, now we have it.

A fanatic.

-A crank!

-No, gentlemen, By no means.

An idealist, perhaps.

Some are inspired by his conception.

Others-- and it is these that raise their voices-- find

the aim too lofty, the demands made upon them far too strict.

-I move, Sir, we write at once to Mr. Wesley,

requiring him to furnish us with a full account.

-A most bewildering event.

Gentlemen, Mr. Wesley himself is here.

-Here?

[INTERPOSING VOICES]

-I left him in Savannah!

-My lord, Colonel, gentlemen.

-Mr. Wesley, what brings you here?

[INTERPOSING VOICES]

-Mr. Wesley, we congratulate you on your safe passage,

but perhaps you will give us the reason

for this unexpected return?

-I landed at Deal on Friday and hastened to London

to give you just such an account.

The plain truth--

-One moment, Mr. Wesley.

You should know that we've just been

discussing some letters from the colony.

It appears that a whole string of charges

has been laid against you.

-My lord, examine those charges.

Is there one which would be heard before a jury?

Sir, these are church matters.

-Such as your turning away one of the women

from holy communion?

-It is a rule that those who would partake of holy communion

give notice at least one day previous.

This she did not do.

-And you stood firm on it.

Was that wise?

-Order and self-discipline there had to be.

Yet from those in high places, every obstacle

was put in my way.

[Frankly, Mr. Wesley.

Did you run away?

-Believe that if you will.

If I was to be of service to the unhappy people Savannah,

no other way remained but to come before this board

myself and tell you of their plight.

-Plight?

-You spoke of those in high places.

-I will not mince my words, Colonel.

I mean among the foremost your chief magistrate.

He is all powerful.

The law of Savannah is nothing but his whim and his advantage.

-What sweeping assertions are these?

-The saving of souls means nothing to such man.

If there be money in it, then the Sabbath is a day of work.

If there be a profit in drunkenness,

then more liquor is imported.

These are the things I have preached against.

They ask, "Why can't we have black slaves?"

I declare slavery is against the low of God.

And from this stand will I never budge.

-My lord, these are most serious allegations.

Shall we not desire Mr. Wesley to put those things in writing

so that they may have our proper judgment?

-One last question.

Why did you sail for England without the consent

of this board?

-Sir, I would remind you that I was sent

to America to instruct the Indians.

After two years, being still prevented

from fulfilling my mission, I felt

myself free to return when I would.

-The task was too much for you.

In plain words, you have failed.

I am right, sir, am I not?

-Here is the license granted me for the performance

of my duties in Savannah.

I leave it with you.

-Sir, that you desire us to accept your resignation?

-I shall not be returning to Georgia.

With your permission, gentlemen, I will remove myself.

-Do you remain in London?

At the moment, I am staying at the bookshop known

as the Bible & Sun in Little Wild Street.

-Thank you.

[INDISTINCT CONVERSATION]

-Have you known Mr. Wesley long, sir?

-I met him last night for the first time.

-A sick man, sir if you ask me.

-Indeed?

-Aye, but I shouldn't be remarking on such things.

I had in mind, young sir, the days

before Mr. Wesley went to America.

Never have I seen a man so set upon his purpose.

-And since his return you see a change?

-I pray for him, though I would not have him know it.

-Come, take off your cloak.

John will surely be here soon.

-But he will be tired.

-Oh, no, no.

He would not forgive me if I let you go.

He'll want to know all about your church in Germany.

About the persecution you suffered.

Besides, I think you'll be good for him.

-Good for him?

-Peter, you and I have become close friends.

I can speak freely.

-Of course.

-John Wesley gave up everything to go to Georgia.

I'm worried about him.

He's returned a desperately disappointed man.

-He did not appear so.

-It's true, nevertheless.

Now tomorrow he plans to go to Oxford

to meet his brother, Charles.

I'm glad.

I wish you could travel with him, to keep him company.

-Why, I should be delighted, but I

cannot thrust myself upon him.

-We'll talk of this later.

John, hello!

-Why, Mr. Boehler!

-You remember me?

-Of course.

It was but last evening that we met.

Do sit down.

-Thank you.

-Peter is to sail very soon for Georgia.

-Yes, I know.

My brother Charles has told me of you in his letters.

-Both your brother and Mr. Hutton

have been very good to me, and I long to hear

all you can tell me about America.

But not now.

You need some rest.

-Oh, a talk between friends will soon revive me.

-Tell me, how were you received?

-By the trustees?

They were dismayed by what I told them.

What a different tale I'd hoped to tell.

If only-- if only I myself had not been such a failure.

-Oh, come now Mr. Wesley.

I heard how you gave up everything.

-That is true enough.

I forsook everything that I held most dear.

but it was not as I then thought for the sake of others,

but for myself.

-How so?

-I will confess it freely.

By undertaking such a good work, by facing unknown dangers,

I'd hoped to gain the greatest prize of all.

The saving of my own soul.

It was my chance.

Here at last was the task for which

I had been so miraculously preserved.

-Miraculously preserved?

-Something happened in my childhood

that nearly cost me my life.

-Tell me of it.

-My father was a country parson.

One evening when we were all asleep, a fire broke out.

-Will you need me any more, Master Hutton?

-No, no.

It's time you went home, William.

--[Wesley, offscreen] In the panic, I was overlooked.

By God's grace, I was rescued in the nick of time.

-Well, good evening, sir.

-Good evening, William.

--[Wesley, offscreen] My mother's crying.

-I'll close the shop up now.

--[Wesley, offscreen] saved from the flames.

A brand plucked from the burning.

-Brand from the burning.

Ah, now I understand.

It was instilled in you as a child

that you were destined to perform

some very special service.

-I doubt if I ever really thought of it that way.

Yet when the chance came for me to go to Georgia, you can see,

can't you, how it appeared to me.

And now--

-I'll leave you two to talk.

-What happened to you after the fire?

Was your family driven away?

-No, the rectory was rebuilt.

My parents, of course, were poorer than ever,

yet their chief concern was still our education.

When I was 10, I went to Charter House, a preparatory school.

From there, I gained a scholarship to Oxford.

In my imagination, I'd always seen Oxford

as a sober, studious place, a kind of scholars' haven.

(Drunk for One Penny. Dead drunk for Two Pence.)

But it was very far from that.

Drinking, gambling.

The taverns full of students.

I was 17, straight from school,

and this whole new world astonished me, the absence

of all discipline, the lack of thought

for anything but pleasures and diversions.

Happily, as I soon discovered, learning

was to be had by those who sought it.

I started to keep a diary, opening it

with a list of rules.

Begin and end every day with God.

Be diligent in your calling.

Employ all spare hours in religion.

The truth was, I'd already resolved

to prepare myself for holy orders.

I was 22 when I was ordained.

Odd how some moments live with one forever.

About this time, my younger brother, Charles,

obtained a scholarship to Oxford.

He was such a gay spirit that at first

I was a little fearful for him.

But I had no cause.

Indeed, believing that none can truly serve God alone,

he banded himself with two or three companions of like mind,

meeting together regularly to study the Bible.

They asked me to become their leader.

We broadened the design of the little society.

We decided to give away every penny we could spare.

We went out into the town, visiting the sick and the poor.

We even set up a small school, paying

the schoolmistress out of our own pockets.

With the bishop's sanction, we went to the castle

and ministered to wretches in prison, distributing food,

teaching them their letters, even the catechism.

Among our fellow students, such strange behavior

did not pass unnoticed.

Above all, they scoffed at the methodical way

in which we ruled our lives.

-Methodists!

Methodists!

-But we were not without sympathizers,

one in particular, an earnest young man who was working

his way through college acting as a servant

in return for his education.

Charles persuaded him to come to our room.

I was delighted to welcome him, and did

my best to put him at his ease.

I asked his name.

"Whitefield, sir," he replied.

"George Whitefield."

-George Whitefield?

The Reverend George Whitefield?

-Yes.

I little guessed that the day would come when he would be one

of the foremost of our preachers.

-Supper's ready.

-Coming.

Tomorrow I'm going to Oxford to see my brother, Charles.

We should both be coming back to London on Friday.

But, could you not come with me?

-And have you to show me all these places?

Nothing would delight me more!

-Then so be it.

Both of us are happy.

-What do you think?

Tomorrow I go to Oxford with Mr. Wesley.

-An admirable idea.

I congratulate you.

-Ha ha ha.

[BELLS RINGING]

-That's Charles' old room, where he

first gathered with his friends.

-I know Charles continues to visit

the prison whenever he is in Oxford.

Are there any others who still carry

on the good works of the holy club?

-I haven't heard of it.

One by one the members have gone their various ways.

Yes, Charles, myself, Whitefield.

We've all scattered.

-What influence you had.

Whatever made you leave a life like this?

-I never really meant to I intended to return.

But my father was growing old.

Between his work and his parish, he wore himself out.

Inevitably, the day came when Charles

and I were summoned to his bedside.

[HORSE AND CARRIAGE OUTSIDE]

-John.

Father has been asking for you constantly.

-Who is here?

All of the family You two are the last.

Oh, hurry, John.

In truth, I believe you are only just in time.

-Mother.

Father.

-John?

-Son.

The inward witness

-The inward witness?

-The inward witness, Son.

That is the proof.

That is the strongest proof of Christianity.

Wh-- The inward witness.

-The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit

that we are the children of God.

-That most perfect and divine assurance.

My own father possessed it.

I do not.

I do not, though I've sought it all my life.

Can you wonder that I speak of failure?

-My friend, you think this assurance is obtained

by devout living, by fierce strivings?

No.

Faith.

Faith alone can bring it.

-Faith is a great part of it, I know.

-Faith in the sacrifice of Christ,

that it was for your sake.

-I know He died for me.

I believe it.

But I cannot feel it.

-All them that trust in God and truly

believe it was for their sakes that He gave His only begotten

Son shall be cleansed of sin.

It is a promise freely given.

A gift of God.

-I know it.

I know it.

-Then forget your good works, your own righteousness,

and turn to Him, to Jesus Christ the Savior.

Your Jesus.

Your Savior.

-Peter, Peter, how can I hope to teach others

when I have not felt this myself?

I will give up my preaching.

-By no means!

-Then what am I to preach?

-Preach faith till you have it.

Then because you have it, you will preach faith.

Ah, Charles.

How did you fare at the prison?

-I have been with but one man all the morning.

A pitiable wretch beyond himself,

condemned to hang this very afternoon.

-To hang?

-Nothing I could find to say brought any comfort to him,

except perhaps my fateful promise

to be with him at the end.

-You are going to present?

-I can do no less.

Indeed, I must set out now.

I will meet you in our rooms.

-May I come with you?

-But--

-And I too, if you will have me.

-I should be most grateful.

But are you sure?

It will not be a pretty sight.

[CROWD NOISES]

--[Wesley reading] Railed on Him, saying,

"If thou be Christ, save Thyself and us."

But the other, answering, rebuked him.

And Jesus said unto him, "Verily I

say unto thee, today shalt thou be with me in paradise."

-John, John.

Preach faith.

[BELLS TOLLING]

-What is it you fear?

Is it death?

-Death?

What is death to me?

It is what lies beyond.

I have blasphemed my way through life,

called down curses upon God himself.

I am damned.

-No one is damned who believe on Jesus Christ.

-I am damned.

Nothing can save me.

Nothing!

-My brother has told you how God sent down His only Son to live

amongst us, to teach us love and pity and the way of life.

-And they put Him to death.

Why tell me this?

Why?

He was no sinner.

He had not my fears.

-Neither need you have any fears.

-I am sold to Satan.

Who is stronger? God or Satan? And Jesus Christ, the only divine Son of God loves you.

He knows you and loves you and will

plead for you if only you will let Him.

-Jesus knows me?

-He died that He might take upon Himself the guilt for our sins,

that we might become reconciled to the Father.

Put trust in Him Put your trust in Him and none

shall touch you.

He will carry you into the Kingdom of God.

He promised it.

-To me?

Sirs, kind sirs.

-He that believeth in Jesus is passed from death unto life!

-Picture Him on the cross.

He is dying for you.

It is to you He is speaking.

Verily I say unto you, today shalt

thou be with me in paradise.

You hear Him.

I can see it.

I can see it.

-Lord, remember me.

Remember me, Lord.

Remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom.

Remember me.

-Come, John.

What more glorious service could you

have been granted to perform for any man?

-One moment he was a cringing, craven wretch, the next,

composed, full of peace.

Almost transfigured.

-Is it the way of God when He chooses to enter a man's heart.

-But it was through me.

-You were His instrument, yes.

-Then why not my heart?

Why not mine?

Could I have gone to my death as that poor man did?

Never.

-Perhaps for a simple man it is more

easy to accept forgiveness.

This certainty of peace, this calm, quiet spirit,

does it come always, do you suppose,

as it did to this poor man, in the matter of a moment?

-It doesn't always happen so.

-It was probably because he knew he was going to die.

-On the road to Damascus, was Paul about to die?

No.

A man's heart may be flooded with this light at any time.

-But Peter, in our age, now, today?

-In any age.

God's dealing with us does not change.

-Oh, that it would come to me.

Lord, Lord, help Thou my unbelief.

(I think it was about five this morning that I opened my Testament on these words...)

There are given unto us exceeding

faith and precious promises.

Thou art not far from the Kingdom of God.

Not far.

[CHOIR SINGING PSALM 130]

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.

As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be--

-Thou art not far from the Kingdom of God.

-[CHOIR SINGING] Amen.

-John!

John, you've not forgotten our meeting tonight?

-Meeting?

-In Aldersgate Street.

You gave your promise.

-I will be there.

-It's at 8 o'clock

-I will be there.

-The writing of Paul's epistle to the Romans,

this is what Martin Luther says.

This letter to the Romans is the very purist gospel.

And is of such dignity and value that a Christian man should not

only know it by heart, but he should meditate on it

every day as the soul's daily bread.

Faith is not what we sometimes suppose it to be.

A faith which is just a notion never

goes to the bottom of the heart.

Faith is God's work in us.

It changes us all over, and makes us like new.

It kills the past and reconstitutes

us utterly different men.

Whereas a devout man has always borne himself

toward God in the matter of a servant, of a sudden

he sees himself to be a son, beloved of his father.

He that is not so affected is simply an unbelieving man,

poking and casting about in the dark.

All he does is to chatter away about faith and good works.

Faith is a lively, reckless confidence in the grace of God,

so sure of itself that the believer could die 1,000 times

for it.

That is what the Holy Spirit does

in this experience of faith.

-So it is that a man--

-My friends, forgive me for breaking in upon this reading.

A most wonderful thing has happened to me,

and I cannot restrain myself from bearing witness to it now,

at once.

I, John Wesley, I am that man described by Luther,

casting about him in the outer darkness.

Sir, when I heard the words, "Faith is God's work in us,"

I felt my heart strangely warmed.

I know.

At last I know that He has taken away my sins, even mine.

I know now that I never could have

worked out my own salvation.

It is a gift, freely bestowed.

A gift of the most high God.

My friends, my friends, that great gift is mine tonight.

When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died--

- WOMAN SINGING: ♪ My richest gain I count but loss ♪

-ALL SINGING: ♪ and pour contempt on all my pride. ♪

♪ Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were an offering far too small. ♪

♪ Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all. ♪

(John Wesley’s long search for inner peace ended with the certainty of his Aldersgate experience, when, through faith, he accepted the gift of God’s love.)

(This new experience resulted in a long and vigorous ministry including field preaching, the use of lay preachers, the establishment of societies, schools and medical clinics, and the publishing of many books and tracts.

His vital preaching challenged the complacency of the established church. One by one the pulpits of the church were closed to him. Our story of his ministry begins with such an experience in a London church.)

-Or had or do which deserve the least at God's hands.

How then can even the most sinful among you

make up for the least of his sins?

By his good deeds?

No, not by these alone.

For no matter how good a man's deeds, or how many,

they are not of his own doing, but God's.

Consequently, a man has nothing to offer

in exchange for God's love.

He can only accept the gift in all thankfulness.

-What manner of sermon is this?

Tell me, sir!

-Well you ask, General.

I have never been so disgraced.

I could sit there no longer.

-This man is nothing but an enthusiast,

and these people who are crowding our church,

they have never been here before.

-I understand that they have previously heard him,

or of him, and have come specially.

-They are riff-raff.

-Find favor with God.

It is grace upon grace.

-Strangers!

-Come in!

-What is this, sir?

What is this?

Have you heard what he is saying?

If any one of us has not had this, uh,

experience of which he speaks, then all that we have ever

done, our devotions, our offerings, our good works,

and doubtless the building of this very church,

are as nothing.

We are still as far from the glory of God

as a common criminal.

-As a heathen.

-Let us not split hairs, sir.

-Who is he to tell us that we have

earned nothing in the sight of God?

-It was not put quite so boldly.

I understood him to mean that we had

no claim to the bounty of God until--

-Are you upholding him, sir?

-Oh no, no indeed.

No.

-Was he not turned out of St. George's and other churches?

-Yes.

N-now the question is what are we going to do?

-I can scarcely bring the service to a close,

but afterwards--

-I shall remain behind and lend you my support.

-And so will I.

-Thank you.

Yes, afterwards he must certainly

be told that he is no longer welcome to my pulpit.

-And plainly.

We shall have no more of him.

-Exactly.

[WOMEN SINGING]

[MACHINE CLANKING]

(THE REVEREND MR GEORGE WHITEFIELD. FROM BRISTOL..)

-Here you are, Master Wesley.

Here's your front page.

How does it please you?

-Knowing your craftsmanship of old,

it's just as I'd imagine it.

"A Word to the Drunkard.

I Have a Message from God to Thee."

-Thus saith the Lord.

"Cast not away your hope, for I have not forgotten thee.

He that tells me there is no hope

is a liar from the beginning."

Well, they're very powerful words.

Enough to give pause to any man.

-That is their purpose.

-But I be thinking.

Is it not one thing to reprove the drunkard,

and another to make him read it?

-At almost every corner one rubs shoulders with the drunkard.

I shall thrust one of these into his hands

or put it in his pocket.

Eventually, when his wits return,

his own curiosity will do the rest.

-Do you know, John, that since we started our society five

weeks ago we've added no less than 50 names?

-At that rate, the room in Fetter Lane

will soon be too small to hold us.

-I put down some of the rules which we decided on.

-What's this?

A society for the people called Methodists.

-I was but amusing myself, yet there is a serious side.

Our society has no name.

We are known, and that in derision, only by the old taunt

"Methodist."

-"Methodist."

The very word.

How I wish it was buried in oblivion.

-Yes, but it is very much alive.

It's followed us all through the years, from Oxford to London,

and followed George Whitefield all the way to Bristol.

-Nay, wait.

You say the jibe has stuck to us?

-Most faithfully.

-Very well then.

We are going to make it one of us and take it with us.

Indeed, we'll give it the place of honor.

-You mean--

-From now on, not the people called Methodists,

but the people calling themselves Methodists.

Read on, Brother Charles.

"The rules of the Methodist."

-One.

That we will meet together once a week to confess our sins

and to pray for one another.

-Two.

-That the persons so meeting will

be divided into several little bands or companies.

-Mr. Reid?

-Yes.

-For everyone so meeting shall tell as clearly as he can

of the real state of his heart.

-A letter for you, John, from Bristol.

-Bristol?

-From George Whitefield, I'll be bound.

What meetings he's been having.

Even the London papers are taking notice of him.

-And none too kindly.

-That is not surprising, since he

has chosen to preach under an open sky rather than a pulpit.

He's going to Savannah, and expects to sail any time now.

-I wonder how he'll fare.

[READING] "The work that has begun in Bristol

is now in jeopardy."

He asks me, he presses me to come straightway

to take his place and continue it.

-That you cannot do.

-John, you preaching--

-The prospect dismays me, it is true,

but if it prove the only way to reach them--

-But what of our society?

-I will consult them, of course.

If they say it's right, so be it.

[HORSE GALLOPING]

[INDISTINCT CONVERSATION]

-Hello, Mr. Whitefield.

-Good day, Mr. Whitefield, sir.

-Good day.

-Good morning.

-This is what I found.

They know neither law, school, nor church.

Having once set my eyes on such a scene,

could I run away and keep the great message to myself?

At my speaking, some dozens came together, curious, suspicious.

At my second meeting a full 200 were

collected there and waiting.

John, you frown on this preaching in the fields,

but what of the Master?

Did He not teach by the wayside, in the highways?

This work is as pressing as could anywhere be found.

-Two days ago, I consider the saving

of souls outside a church almost a sin,

but these people are destined in utter darkness.

-Then you will do it?

-I will try it.

Has He not bought you with His own blood, that you may not

perish but have everlasting life?

Is this, His mercy and His love, not proof enough for you?

He stands in your midst, not to condemn, but to save the world.

Turn to Him who loves you.

I beseech you, all of you.

Give yourselves to Him who gave himself for you.

[MEN SINGING]

-You're back soon.

-Done any business?

-Yes, I've sold a testament and a dictionary.

-Well done!

[MEN SINGING] Listen.

-Oh, all the country is singing it.

It's the latest song.

"Welcome to the Admiral."

I nearly bumped into those fellows.

Four of them dead drunk.

-God bless them.

-What?

-They passed by the shop, and it gave me a wonderful idea.

Instead of the admiral, supposing--supposing

I put words of praise?

Do you see what we would have?

A hymn.

A hymn with a tune that everybody knows.

-Even the Bristol miners?

-Especially the miners.

-What have you been writing?

[CHARLES SINGING] His Lightnings Flash, his Thunders roll, A welcome to the faithful Soul;

[CROWD SINGING] A welcome to the faithful Soul; Welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome, Welcome, to the faithful Soul.

[CROWD EXCLAIMING]

-And so you shall.

Is it true that in London you have your own society?

-A few of us meet together, yes.

-To sing?

-To sing and to pray.

-Well, can't we have one here in Bristol?

-If you desire it, yes.

-We do!

-Yes, but where would we meet?

There's no place open to the likes of us.

-Where God is, nothing is impossible.

[MEN SINGING]

-Mr. John Wesley?

-Yes?

-Sir, I bring a letter from my lord bishop of Bristol.

-Thank you.

-What is this?

-It is to be a meeting house.

-A religious meeting house?

You have been fortunate to find a patron.

-It is being built by the miners themselves,

with their own pennies, freely given.

-Indeed?

Remarkable.

-Are you aware of the contents of this letter?

-I know, sir, that his lordship has issued an order

forbidding you to preach in this diocese.

--[READING] "If you have aught to say."

Be good enough to inform his lordship that I

will attend on him tomorrow at 3:00.

-Mr. Wesley, I will be plain with you.

Once, I thought you and Mr. Whitefield well-meaning men.

But I have heard more of you.

Matters of fact, sir.

-Pray, my lord, what are these facts?

-I hear that people fall into fits at your meetings,

and that yo pray over them.

-I do, my lord, when they show by their cries and tears

that their souls are in deep anguish,

and frequently pray to God to deliver them from it.

And our prayer is often answered.

-Extraordinary.

[SNIFFS] Very extraordinary.

Well sir, my advice to you is this.

You've no business here.

You are not commissions to preach in this diocese.

Therefor, I advise you to go hence.

-My lord, my business on Earth is to do what good I can.

At present, I think I can do most go here, therefore,

here I must stay.

-You must stay, sir?

-You are mistaken about in my commission.

Being ordained a priest and also a fellow in Oxford College,

I'm commissioned to preach the Word of God

in any part of the Church of England.

Indeed I look upon all the world as my parish.

-Do you imagine God concerns himself only with the rich?

Nay, my friends.

He knows of the day's toil.

He knows of your weariness, of your return

to a dreary, cold lodging, of the look in the eyes

of your little ones when there is not

bread enough to satisfy their hunger.

-He is building in Bristol a meeting

house for his followers.

Moreover, he is gradually extending his mission,

for it has come to our ears that Mr. Wesley intends to address

a gathering on the very outskirts of Bath.

-What will Beau Nash say?

-I will run them out of town.

Have no fear!

I will run them out of town!

-God and to man--

-Mr. Wesley!

Look out, sir!

-You desire to speak with me?

-Why are you here?

By what authority do you preach to these people?

-By the authority of Jesus Christ,

conveyed to me by the Archbishop of Canterbury

when he laid his hands upon me and said,

"Take thou authority to preach the gospel."

-This is contrary to act of parliament.

Such-such meetings are outside the laws.

-Sir, did you ever hear me preach?

-Of course not.

-How, then, do you judge of what you have never heard?

-By common report, sir.

By common report.

-Give me leave to ask, is not your name Nash?

-My name is Nash.

-Then,sir, I would certainly not wish

to judge you by common report.

[LAUGHTER]

That's one for you, Mr. Nash!

-I cannot understand why these people come to hear you.

-Mr. Wesley, let an old woman answer him.

You, Mr. Nash, take care of your body.

We take care of our souls.

It is for the food or our souls that we come.

[CROWD AGREEING]

Ugh!

[CHOIR SINGING]

-Oh, my apologies, sir.

Is not this the king's foundry for the making of cannon?

-It was, sir, until it blew up.

-Do I not hear the sound of singing?

-You do, indeed, sir, praise be to God.

-An explanation, sir.

An explanation.

-The place has been acquired by the Reverend John Wesley.

It serves now as a religious meeting house.

-A clergyman?

Services in a, in a foundry?

This Mr. Wesley, sir, does he, does he

attend to this place himself, sir?

-When he is in London.

At the moment he is in the country,

preaching by the wayside.

-Preaching by the wayside?!

[CONGREGATION SINGING] O that the world might taste and see the riches of His grace! The arms of love that compass me would all mankind embrace.

-Surely he's not going to preach.

[CONGREGATION SINGING] His only righteousness I show, His saving grace proclaim; 'tis all my business here below to cry, "Behold the Lamb!"

-In this place where was made so many pieces

of death-dealing artillery, let us think

for a moment of the words of Isaiah,

"And they shall beat their swords into plowshares.

Nation shall not lift up sword against nation.

Neither shall they learn war anymore."

[WHEEL SPINNING]

-Have you done what you said you would, Mr. Maxfield?

Have you written to my son?

-I have, Mrs. Wesley.

-To confess that you preached in the chapel here?

-Yes.

-Then you have acted very rightly,

though I fear you must prepare yourself for his displeasure.

-Oh, you think so?

-My son is a strict churchman, and you are not ordained.

-He left me in charge.

Our company had prayed and sung, as you know,

for you were there.

It-it seemed a natural thing.

I found myself exhorting them.

-From the pulpit.

-Ma'am, forgive me if I say that John is not entirely logical.

He and Mr. Charles are much absent in Bristol

and thereabout.

If they alone may preach, then are

not we left too long without--

-Hello, Mr. Wesley.

We wasn't expecting you.

-I've been riding him hard.

Give him a good rubdown and a good feed.

He deserves it.

-Good evening, Mr. Wesley.

God bless you, Reverend.

-Forgive me, doctor.

There.

That's a real burn, isn't it?

Sit down.

You shouldn't be standing.

How was it caused?

-He did it at his work, sir.

-What's the nature of his work?

-Mr. Lawson, the baker.

-How old is he?

-Seven years, sir.

-Seven.

Bring him back in--

-Two days.

-Two days.

-We have no money, doctor.

-Madam, you require none.

-You will be hungry.

-I come but from Swindon.

Let us eat at the usual hour.

-You received my letter?

-It is the reason of my return.

Tom, whatever possessed you?

Are you out of your senses?

-It was an impulse.

-But you're not in holy orders.

How could you ever assume--

-I make no excuses.

Neither had I forgotten what you said.

-What I said?

'Tis not I who may give you authority to preach, but God.

God alone, through the hands of His bishop.

-Everyone was moved by Mr. Maxfield's sermon,

so much so that many were turned from their wickedness.

-Mother, you were there?

-I was.

Do you suppose such work as that

was done without His sanction?

-Whether it be God's will or no, I cannot tell.

I know we are not dissenters.

I know we are, and pray God ever shall be one with the church.

And you, Tom--

-John! I charge you before God, beware what you do.

This young man is as much called to preach

the gospel as you are.

Hear him first, and then judge.

-Will you?

Will you?

-My son, consider.

this is God's work that you do.

Because the clergy will not help, is it to come to a stop?

A truly faithful man, having understanding,

can teach others, be he ordained or no.

-You want me to appoint lay preachers?

-Might it not be God's design?

-Mother, give me 20, nay, only 10 such men.

What ground could we not cover?

-As class leaders, your duty has been to call weekly

on our members for their pennies.

Continue to do so, and the debt on our meeting house

here in Bristol will soon be paid.

-That we will do, Mr. Wesley.

And we ourselves are agreed to give

for those that are too poor to pay.

But in visiting these homes, we have

discovered more than one backslider.

-Go on.

-Uh, Tom Thatcher, for instance.

When I went to him last week, he was at first

so deep in drink he didn't know me.

Then he began blaspheming, and in a voice

that all the neighborhood could hear,

yet all know him to be one of us.

Such behavior does us harm.

-You have each a class of 11.

In future, I ask you to call on your members

not only for their pennies, but for their souls' sake.

Rejoice with them.

Pray with them.

When necessary, reprove them.

Do all you can to turn them back to God.

-Amen.

Mr.

-Wesley!

-You know me?

-I heard you preach at Falmouth, and am

yours for the rest of my life.

But Mr. Wesley, I've just come from there.

The devil himself is abroad.

-Is he not always?

-I'm serious.

I fear for your safety.

All manner of lies have been set about.

They say you are a spy.

-Dear me!

-But with England at war, it is believed!

-I thank you, sir.

But I am content to leave what may

befall me in God's hands.

-Fare thee well!

And may the Lord bless you.

-Good morning!

Why, if it isn't the little parson himself.

-What is the meaning of this?

-It's doubtless even you have some small coin on you.

Your purse, sir, if you please.

-And if I do not please?

-Heh!

Then you have preached the last time.

-As God is my judge, I mean it.

As God is my judge, Michael O'Rawley,

but I suppose it to be you.

The time will come when you will regret

the course of life in which you are now engaged.

When that day comes, remember this.

The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin,

and now, pray let me pass.

-Bring out the minister!

-They mean mischief.

Mr. Wesley, you should not have come to me.

You will pay with your life for this kindness.

Oh sir. Hide, hide whilst there's time!

-Come, we waste precious moments.

Let us be at prayer.

Almighty God-- [SHOUTING] Amen.

Lock it after me.

-Here I am.

Which of you wishes to talk with me?

Speak up!

Which of you has anything to say to me?

Tell me, which of you have I harmed?

To which of you have I done wrong?

To you?

Have I harmed you?

Or you?

[CROWD MURMURING]

Neighbors, friends!

Do you desire to hear me speak?

Come!

Would you deny me a hearing?

Let him speak.

Cornishmen, you wonder what I do among you.

I come to tell you of my master, of Christ.

Who came into the world to teach us the way of love,

to lift us from the shame of suffering

to peace and happiness.

Would you kill me for this?

-You, er, you saw this riot with your own eyes?

-I did, King George.

And it is, I know, but one of many.

-Until today, I knew only that the Wesleys were making

at great noise in the land, huh?

-Thou knowest there is little learning in this land for any

but the privileged and well-to-do.

These men are setting up schools for the orphans,

for the sons and the daughters of the poor.

Soon such children will be reading

for themselves the glories of the Scriptures.

-Your good account of them comes fresh to me.

-It is God's work, the welfare of thine own subjects

that is in their hearts and in their hands.

I know them well.

Thou mayest be assured thou hast not two better men in thy

dominion or men that love thee better

than John and Charles Wesley.

-I shall make an order.

I shall send it to all my justices.

I tell you good Master Quaker, while I am sitting

on the throne, neither the Wesleys nor any man

shall be subjected to persecution

for their conscience's sake.

[SINGING]

-Have you Mr. John Wesley's notes on the New Testament?

-Yes, sir.

-Are these all his works?

-These are just part of them, sir.

1 shilling, please.

-You did not know that Mr. Wesley had written so much.

-Ah, I've been in America these 30 years.

-These are his sermons and these his journals.

On that shelf is his Christian library,

and here are his works.

32 volumes of them up to date.

-And these?

-Those are for the education of the young, written chiefly,

I believe, for the pupils of his own schools and orphan homes.

And here, here is his "Primitive Physick."

It has seen 20 different editions,

and was first published in '47, nigh on 30 years ago.

-1747.

The very year I met him.

But the people would have none of him.

There were risings wherever he went.

Now--

-Now indeed their eyes have been opened.

It is a much changed land, this England

to which you have come home.

And for the most part, these changes

have been wrought by the labors of this one good man.

-The people are more orderly.

I have seen it myself.

John Wesley has given the people a new hope,

the joy that comes of knowing God.

It is for this that he is so loved and so revered,

for bringing the gospel right into the hearts

and homes of the ordinary folk.

-Sir, I am one that owes him such a debt,

nay, a greater debt than any.

It would shame me to tell you how I came to meet John Wesley.

I threatened him with his life.

He says to me, "The time will come when you regret your ways.

Remember only this.

The blood of Jesus Christ will cleanse you from all sin."

-And that time did come to you?

-That very day.

Sir, where may I find Mr. Wesley?

The old foundry is locked and barred.

-He's planning a new chapel by Royal Row.

-Very soon, here, within a short distance of the old foundry,

we shall have a house worthy of our society.

-Come in?

-Dr. Coke to see you, sir.

-Show him in.

Show him in.

-Ah Tom.

-I am not come to plague you.

I shall be away again in a minute.

-This is indeed a pleasure.

-You are looking well, sir.

-So I am.

Tomorrow, I set off for Yorkshire, thence for Wales.

Close on 100 circuits, Tom, and as many in America.

How the tide has turned.

Why, I am become respectable.

-But not rich.

-I own four silver spoons, two here and two in Bristol.

-I doubt if there is any man more wealthy.

But you came to see me.

-The great day is set.

I heard this morning that the ship

is to sail from Bristol about the middle of next month.

-Mr. Whatcoat, Mr. Vasey are going with you?

-Yes, and have been informed of the sailing.

-Once I too set out for America.

Had I possessed then the blessed deeper

knowledge that is mine today--

-It is a vast continent, America.

-The people there are hungry for the gospel,

as Francis Asbury has found.

He and his men are taking the word

into the very heart of the wilderness.

Tom, I am sending you out as superintendent.

I beg you, see that those you choose as helpers are

in very truth the sons of God, that their teaching may not

be mere words, but have as its source the inward witness.

-Yes.

-Tell men, all men, that when they discover

their true relation to Christ, they

will live under new heavens and in a new earth.

Preach it.

Tom, preach it with passion and with joy.

-I will.

-It is my belief that a handful of men with their hearts alight

with the love of God could set whole towns on fire.

Not only towns, but continents, yea, the whole world.

-Our hearts are afire.

-Then may God be with you.

May He bless you with the fullness of His Spirit.

-You must come to see us, sir.

-Nay, nay, my boy.

I make no more visits to the new world.

-But you will come to see us off.

-The middle of the month.

Yes, you may depend upon it.

I shall be there.

[SEAGULLS SCREECHING] [MUSIC - "Soldiers of Christ, Arise"]

who in the strength of Jesus trusts is more than conqueror.

From strength to strength go on, wrestle and fight and pray;

tread all the pow'rs of darkness down and win the well-fought day.

That, having all things done and all your conflicts past,

ye may o'ercome thro' Christ alone and stand entire at last.