Note 230 — Chapter XXVI

When Mr. John Wesley was preaching at Bath, some time before the coming of Charles, Beau Nash entered the room, and approaching the preacher, demanded by what authority he was acting. Mr. Wesley answered, “By that of Jesus Christ, conveyed to me by the present Archbishop of Canterbury, when he laid his hands upon me and said—‘Take thou authority to preach the Gospel!’” Nash then affirmed that he was acting contrary to law. “Besides (said he), your preaching frightens people out of their wits.” “Sir (replied Mr. Wesley), did you ever hear me preach?” “No,” said the Master of the Ceremonies. “How, then, can you judge of what you never heard?” “By common report,” replied Nash. “Sir (said Mr. Wesley), is not your name Nash? I dare not judge of you by common report.” Nash, finding himself a very different person in the meeting-house from what he was in the pump-room, thought it best to withdraw.

Nash sometimes conversed with Lady Huntingdon on religious subjects, and was once prevailed on to hear Mr. Whitefield at her house. Beau Nash was congratulated on his conversion by his gay associates, who failed not to rally him on his turning Methodist. Verses were written on her Ladyship and Mr. Nash, which were fastened to the walls of the pump-room and assembly-room; and printed notices were circulated in every direction, one of which was shown to the writer, many years ago, by Dr. Haweis, stating that “the Countess of Huntingdon, attended by some saintly sister, purposed preaching at the pump-room the following morning, and that Mr. Nash, henceforth to be known as the Rev. Richard Nash,” was expected to preach in the evening at the assembly-room. It was hoped that the audience would be numerous, as a collection was intended for the late Master of the Ceremonies, who was retiring from office. This profane raillery never discomposed the Countess, but gave great offence to Mr. Nash; and no inducement could ever after prevail upon him to go to Lady Huntingdon’s house.

This man of pleasure died as he lived—a monument of irreligion, folly, and vice, in the year 1761, aged 87! He dreaded the approach of death more than the generality of mankind; and sought refuge in some fancied devotion while it threatened him. Though a complete libertine in practice, none trembled more than he did. To embitter his hopes, he found himself at last abandoned by the great, whom he had long endeavoured to flatter and to serve, and was obliged to fly for protection to those of humbler station, whom he had once affected to despise. The corporation of Bath allowed him a scanty pittance, which saved this miserable trifler from starvation in his last days.