89. “But (it is said) things are fairly altered now. Now I can’t complain of wanting any thing; having the yearly income of a bishop in _London_, over and above what I gain at other places.” At what other places, my friend? Inform yourself a little better, and you will find, that both at _Newcastle_, _Bristol_, and _Kingswood_, and all other places, where any collection is made) the money collected is both received and expended by the stewards of those several societies, and never comes into my hands at all, neither first nor last. And you, or any who desire it, shall read over the accounts kept by any of those stewards, and see with your own eyes, that by all these societies I gain just as much as you do.
90. The case in _London_ stands thus. In _November 1739_, two gentlemen, then unknown to me (Mr. _Ball_ and Mr. _Watkins_) came and desired me once and again, to preach in a place called the _Foundery_ near _Moorfields_. With much reluctance I at length complied. I was soon after pressed to take that place into my own hands. Those who were most earnest therein, lent me the purchase-money, which was 115l. Mr. _Watkins_ and Mr. _Ball_ then delivered me the names of several subscribers, who offered to pay, some four, or six, some ten shillings a year towards the repayment of the purchase-money, and the putting the buildings into repair. This amounted one year to near 200l. the second to about 140, and so to the last.
91. The united society began a little after, whose weekly contribution (for the poor) is received, and expended by the stewards, and comes not into my hands at all. But there is also a quarterly subscription of many of the society, which is nearly equal to that above mentioned.
92. The uses to which these subscriptions have been hitherto applied, are, 1st, the payment of that 115l. 2dly. The repairing (I might almost say rebuilding) that vast, uncouth heap of ruins at the _Foundery_; 3dly. The building galleries both for men and women; 4thly. The enlarging the society room to near thrice its first bigness. All taxes and occasional expences are likewise defrayed out of this fund. And it has been hitherto so far from yielding any overplus, that it has never sufficed for these purposes. So far from it, that I am still in debt, on these accounts, near 300l. So much have I hitherto gained by preaching the gospel! Besides a debt of 150l. still remaining on account of the school built at _Bristol_; and another of above 200l. on account of that now building at _Newcastle_. I desire any reasonable man would now sit down and lay these things together, and let him see, whether, allowing me a grain of common sense, (if not of common honesty) he can possibly conceive, that a view of _gain_ would induce me to act in this manner.
93. You can never reconcile it with any degree of common sense, that a man who wants nothing, who has already all the necessaries, all the conveniencies, nay, and many of the superfluities of life, and these not only independent on any one, but less liable to contingencies than even a gentleman’s freehold estate, that such an one should calmly and deliberately throw up his ease, most of his friends, his reputation, and that way of life, which of all others is most agreeable both to his nature, temper, and education: that he should toil day and night, spend all his time and strength, knowingly destroy a firm constitution, and hasten into weakness, pain, diseases, death,――to gain a debt of six or seven hundred pounds.
94. But suppose the ballance on the other side, let me ask you one plain question. For what gain (setting conscience aside) will you be obliged to act thus? To live exactly as I do? For what price will you preach (and that with all your might, not in an _easy, indolent, fashionable_ way) eighteen or nineteen times every week? And this throughout the year? What shall I give you, to travel seven or eight hundred miles, in all weathers, every two or three months? For what salary will you abstain from all other diversions, than the doing good, and the praising God? I am mistaken if you would not prefer strangling to such a life, even with thousands of gold and silver.