part civil

, part rude as bears.”

At Barrow, the mob was in readiness to receive him with violence, but their hearts failed them, and they only gave a few huzzas. At Horncastle, they “threatened terrible things,” but contented themselves with “a feeble shout,” as he was entering the town. At Sibsey “there were a few wild colts.” At Boston, which, he says, was nearly as large as Leeds, and far better built, the “congregation was much astonished, not being used to field preaching.”

From Boston, he made his way to Norwich, and thence to London, where he arrived on Saturday, August 22. He writes: “I found the work of God swiftly increasing. The congregations, in every place, were larger than they had been for several years. Many were, from day to day, convinced of sin. Many found peace with God. Many backsliders were healed. And many believers entered into such a rest, as it had not before entered into their hearts to conceive. Meantime, the enemy was not wanting in his endeavours to sow tares among the good seed. I saw this clearly, but durst not use violence, lest, in plucking up the tares, I should root up the wheat also.”

This brings us to an important epoch in Wesley’s history; but, before adverting to it further, a few extracts from his letters must be given.

The first was addressed to one of his oldest itinerants, Alexander Coates, who died in 1765. Mr. Coates was puzzled with the rumours concerning the doctrine of Christian perfection. Wesley, after explaining what he meant by the doctrine, proceeds in the following characteristic style.

“OTLEY, _July 7, 1761_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,— ... This way of talking is highly offensive. I advise you—1. If you are willing to labour with us, preach no doctrine contrary to ours. I have preached twenty years in some of Mr. Whitefield’s societies; yet, to this day, I never contradicted him among his own people. I did not think it honest, neither necessary at all I could preach salvation by faith, and leave all controversy untouched. I advise you—2. Avoid all those strong, rhetorical exclamations, ‘O horrid, O dreadful!’ and the like; unless when you are strongly exhorting sinners to renounce the devil and all his works. 3. Acquaint yourself better with the doctrine we preach, and you will find it not dreadful, but altogether lovely. 4. Observe that, if forty persons think and speak wrong, either about justification or sanctification (and perhaps fancy they have attained both), this is no objection to the doctrines themselves. They must bear their own burden; but this does not at all affect the point in question. 5. Remember, as sure as you are that ‘believers cannot fall from grace,’ others are equally sure they can; and you are as much obliged to bear with them as they are to bear with you. 6. Abstain from all controversy in public. Indeed, you have not a talent for it. You have an honest heart, but not a clear head; practical religion is your point. Therefore—7. Keep to this: repentance toward God, faith in Christ, holiness of heart and life, a growing in grace and in the knowledge of Christ, the continual need of His atoning blood, a constant confidence in Him, and all these every moment to our life’s end. In none of these will any of our preachers contradict you, or you them.

“When you leave this plain path, and get into controversy, then you think you ‘invade the glories of our adorable King, and the unspeakable rights, and privileges, and comforts of His children’; and can they then ‘tamely hold their peace?’ O Sander, know the value of peace and love!

“I am, your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[447]

The following was addressed to Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell, and refers to his clerical friends, and his difficulties with respect to them.

“BRADFORD, _July 16, 1761_.

“DEAR SIR,—Mr. Venn was so kind as to come over hither yesterday, and spend the evening with us. I am a little embarrassed on his account, and hardly know how to act. Several years before he came to Huddersfield, some of our preachers went thither, carrying their lives in their hands, and, with great difficulty, established a little, earnest society. These eagerly desire them to preach there still; not in opposition to Mr. Venn, (whom they love, esteem, and constantly attend,) but to supply what they do not find in his preaching. It is a tender point. Where there is a gospel ministry already, we do not desire to preach; but whether we can leave off preaching because such an one comes after, is another question; especially, when those, who were awakened and convinced by us, beg and require the continuance of our assistance. I love peace, and follow it; but whether I am at liberty to purchase it at such a price, I really cannot tell.

“I hear poor Mr. Walker is near death. It seems strange that, when there is so great a want of faithful labourers, such as he should be removed: but the will of God is always best; and what He does, we shall know hereafter! I have been, for some days, with Mr. Grimshaw, an Israelite indeed. A few such as he would make a nation tremble. He carries fire wherever he goes. Mr. Venn informs me, that Mr. Whitefield continues very weak. I was in hope, when he wrote to me lately, that he was swiftly recovering strength. What need have we, while we do live, to live in earnest!

“I am, dear sir, your affectionate servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[448]

In another letter, written a month later, Wesley refers again to the Huddersfield difficulty as follows.

“NORWICH, _August 15, 1761_.

“DEAR SIR,—Mr. Venn and I have had some hours’ conversation together, and have explained upon every article. I believe there is no bone of contention remaining; no matter of offence, great or small. Indeed, fresh matter will arise, if it be sought; but it shall not be sought by me. We have amicably compromised the affair of preaching. He is well pleased, that the preachers should come once a month.

“I am, etc.,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[449]

This was an important precedent; and an additional indication that, even under the most favourable circumstances, it was impossible to absorb Methodism in the Established Church. If such was Wesley’s difficulty, in the case of Mr. Venn and Huddersfield Methodism in 1761, who can doubt what would have been Wesley’s answer to the advocates of absorption, or amalgamation, in 1870?

On September 1, Wesley met his conference, in London. Three days after it ended, John Manners wrote as follows to Mr. Merryweather, of Yarm.

“LONDON, _September 9, 1761_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—At present, there is the most glorious work in London I have ever seen. Many scores praise God from Monday morning till Saturday night. Their words and prayers are full of faith and fire. We have had the most satisfactory and solemn conference that has been held for several years. It was honoured with the presence of Mr. Whitefield and other clergy several times. The minutes you may see with Tommy Johnson, the assistant of your circuit.

“I am, yours, etc.,

“J. MANNERS.”[450]

Strangely enough Charles Wesley was not present. Hence the following, addressed to him, two days after the conference closed.

“LONDON, _September 8, 1761_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—Our conference ended, as it began, in peace and love. All found it a blessed time:

‘_Excepto, quod non simul esses, cætera læti._’

“The minutes John Jones can help you to, who sets out hence in two or three days. The right hand of the Lord bringeth mighty things to pass.

“I do not at all think, (to tell you a secret,) that the work will ever be destroyed, Church or no Church. What has been done to prevent the Methodists leaving the Church, you will see in the minutes of the conference. I told you before, with regard to Norwich, _Dixi_. I have done, at the last conference, all I can or dare do. Allow me liberty of conscience, as I allow you. My love to Sally. Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[451]

Unfortunately, the minutes of 1761 have not been found; but it is evident, that separation from the Church was still a debated question.

Another matter was also probably discussed. The doctrine of entire sanctification, attainable in an instant, by the exercise of faith, was now agitating Methodism throughout the country. Twelve months before this, sixteen, out of the 2350 members composing the London society, professed to have attained to this state of grace; and these had now increased to thirty. There were also not a few at Otley, in Yorkshire, who declared themselves to the same effect. In fact, Otley was the place where the perfection movement had its origin. “Here”, says Wesley, “_began_ that glorious work of sanctification, which had been nearly at a stand for twenty years; but which now, from time to time, spread first through various parts of Yorkshire, afterwards in London, then through most parts of England, next through Dublin, Limerick, and all the south and west of Ireland. And wherever the work of sanctification increased, the whole work of God increased, in all its branches.”[452]

In this respect, Otley will always be famed in Methodistic annals. Wesley heard of its sanctified Methodists; and, in 1760, he went to visit and to examine them, one by one. The testimony of some of them he doubted; but concerning a large majority, he writes: “Unless they told wilful and deliberate lies, it was plain—(1) That they felt no inward sin; and, to the best of their knowledge, committed no outward sin. (2) That they saw and loved God every moment; and prayed, rejoiced, and gave thanks evermore. (3) That they had constantly as clear a witness from God of sanctification as they had of justification.” Wesley adds: “In this, I do rejoice, and will rejoice, call it what you please. I would to God, thousands had experienced thus much; let them afterwards experience as much more as God pleases.”

This was an important, and, in some respects, a novel movement. Wesley had held the doctrine of Christian perfection ever since the year 1733, when he preached his sermon on the circumcision of the heart; but now, for the first time, he found people professing to experience and practise it. Yea more, they professed to have attained to this state of purity in a moment, and by simple faith.[453] No wonder Wesley was excited, and that, besides examining the Otley Methodists, he now began to sift those in London. Once a week, he met about thirty, who, to use his own expression, “had experienced a deep work of God”; and says concerning them: “Whether they are saved from sin or no, they are certainly full of faith and love, and peculiarly helpful to my soul.” On March 6, he writes: “I met again with those who believe God has delivered them from the root of bitterness. Their number increases daily. I know not if fifteen or sixteen have not received the blessing this week.”

Wesley himself had not received it; and it is an important fact that, so far as there is evidence to show, to the day of his death, he never made the same profession as hundreds of his people did. He preached the doctrine most explicitly and strongly, especially after the period of which we are writing; but where is the proof that he professed to experience it? All the way, in his long northern journey, he was evidently anxious to hear what those who were entirely sanctified had to say. He also sought information by epistolary correspondence. He conversed with Grimshaw and his preachers. This, in some respects, was a new fact in Methodism; and, by prayerfully sifting evidence, he was extremely desirous to satisfy himself concerning it. At Newcastle and in the neighbourhood, he inquired how it was that there were “so few witnesses of full salvation;” and says, “I constantly received one and the same answer: ‘We see now, we sought it by our works; we thought it was to come gradually; we never expected it to come in a moment, by simple faith, in the very same manner as we received justification.’”[454]

We have said, that Wesley himself did not profess to have attained to this state of grace; and hence the following extract from a letter addressed to him by Miss B——, one of his favourite correspondents, and bearing date “April 17, 1761.”

“Do _you_ seem to be a great way off? You are not out of God’s reach; not farther from being healed than the man covered with leprosy was, the moment before Christ said, ‘I will; be thou clean.’ Jesus heals _all_ diseases as well as _one_. He does not expect you to bring Him _fruit_ in order to fetch the _root_. All you want, He will give with a new heart; all He asks of you is, to _claim your right_. Do you seek a sacrifice beside? Oh, He is all-sufficient! He has paid the full debt for both actual and original sin. By His stripes you are healed. Why should you be without the blessing any longer? It is His will that, from the time you read this, you should never sin against Him any more. Now believe, and His blood shall so flow over your soul, that no spot shall be found there. He will keep your heart, as with a garrison, that it shall never open to anything but His love. There needs but one grain of faith, and the mountain shall be removed. All you say of wanting desire and earnestness, I can still say, with regard to a farther blessing,—that constant uninterrupted intercourse with God, of which Lopez speaks, when he says that, for thirty-six years, he had never discontinued one moment, making an act of love with all his strength. For want of this, I do not keep quite clear of idle reasonings. I never had a clear _abiding_ witness, that I was saved from sin; but I feel my soul hangs on Jesus, and I do believe He will keep me for ever. My peace is more solid than it was at first, and my soul seems more sunk into God. But what I judge more by, is the change I feel; my one desire is to do His will: and I feel nothing but love to every creature, let them use me well or ill. Oh pray for me, and stir up all you can, to seek all my Saviour has to give.”[455]

This extract is given, not because it contains no unjustifiable expressions, but because it establishes the fact already mentioned, and because it is a fair specimen of the loose language which came into use at this important juncture. It was addressed to Wesley, and was published by him in one of his earliest magazines, in which he also inserts a large number of other letters, on the same subject, received by him at and about the period of which we are now writing. The following are extracts taken from the correspondence, dated 1761.

“M. W.” writes to him:

“The Lord has graciously given me a clean heart; and I hope to use it in His service. I find I speak less than I did, and what I do speak I know is according to the will of God. Mr. Edward Perronet questioned me much yesterday. I simply answered him; and he, at last, prayed that he might feel what we enjoyed. Before you left town, I was agonizing with excess of desire to love God alone. I knew the power was ready, whenever I asked for it in faith. I found it was like throwing myself into a rapid stream, where I must swim or perish. The Lord gave me faith, and a sweet serenity. Prayer is sweet. I would not accept the empire of the world, to keep me from that food of immortal souls.”

“Mr. J. C. M.” writes:

“From the time Jesus cleansed my heart from sin, I was ever happy in His love; though, at times, I was much tempted. Satan did, indeed, sift me as wheat; but he gained no advantage over me. His chief temptation was, to deny the work of God; not to believe I was sealed with His Spirit. I cried earnestly to the Lord, that, if it was not done yet, He would do it; and, on Easter Monday, at chapel, I found I had access unto the Father through the Son; and He showed me, He had made with _me_ an everlasting covenant. I then knew, my soul was _sealed_ in heaven with the blood of Jesus. I could say, ‘I am the Lamb’s wife’; and was answered, ‘the spotless bride.’ From this time, I never found a doubt that God had taken away the root of sin; but yet, as the light shined clearer, I saw many things lacking in my soul. I wanted to have my whole _mind_, and to have all my _thoughts_ fixed on God. Above all, I wanted to live every moment in a spirit of sacrifice. My peace increased; but I found Satan had power to inject wandering thoughts, and thereby cloud my understanding, so that I could not clearly discern the state of my soul. On April 30, for near two hours, my cry was, ‘Let my whole _mind_ be fixed on Thee!’ I trust to Thy faithfulness, to keep my _mind_, as Thou hast kept my _heart_. I _will_ believe, and according to my faith it shall be unto me.’ At first indeed, this faith was weak; but it grew stronger and stronger. The next day Satan assaulted me on every side, to draw my _mind_ from God; but I am enabled to stand on my watchtower, and to keep the eye of my soul continually fixed on the Lamb of God.”

Another correspondent, who professed entire sanctification, was questioned by Wesley concerning _wandering_ thoughts, and answered:

“Useless, unedifying thoughts pass through, though they do not lodge in, my _mind_. Therefore, I judge I have not received the blessing which others have; but I have a clear witness, that my _heart_ never departs from God, and am enabled to discern, that I do offer unto the Lord an uninterrupted act of love. Still, I live too much _without_, not enough _within_. My life is not sufficiently a hidden life. I _would_ find, in the whole creation, nothing but God and my own soul.”

Another says:

“In the latter end of February, my wife wrote me concerning the work God was doing in London; adding, that one of my acquaintance had gotten a _clean heart_. I started when I read that word; but I hastened home. My soul thirsted for God, and most of the day was spent in prayer. I called God _my Father_; and knew He _could_ save me _now_. Meantime, Satan was ready to tear me in pieces, till I cried vehemently, ‘Lord! wouldst Thou have me believe Thee?’ As soon as I spoke, He answered, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.’ My soul fell upon Him; I _did_ believe, and peace sprung up like a river in my soul. I cannot tell you, what a glorious liberty I was now brought into. I hung upon Him, and loved Him with all my heart. Since then, my heart has been continually burning with love to God and all mankind. I laid at His feet, and loathed myself. He talked with me all the day long. I found Him building up the ruined places, and making my soul as a watered garden. After a while, however, I found my _mind_ wandering as I walked in the street. I told brother Biggs of it. He said, ‘You want to have your _mind_ stayed upon God, as well as your affections.’ I saw the thing clearly. It was not long before some of our brethren spoke of having received this blessing. I clearly saw, that I did love God with all my _heart_; but that this was wanting still, that _every thought should be brought into subjection to the obedience of Christ_. This I expected to receive at the Lord’s table, but did not. Then, I prayed the Lord to show me the hindrance. And He _did_ show me; I had been seeking it, as it were, by the works of the law. I then pleaded the blood of Jesus Christ, and cast myself upon Him, believing. And I felt His power delivering me, I think, more clearly than when He took the root of bitterness out of my heart. The deadness to all things, which I have found since then, is more than I can express.”

Hannah Harrison gives an account of obtaining this entire freedom from sin; but adds:

“For some time, all the evidence I could produce arose from the nature of the change. I found the want of a clear and _direct_ witness. This I received about February 1759; and this I have never lost, but can acknowledge, to the glory of God, that it is as clear now as at the first. I know not how to describe the difference between the witness and the work itself; but this I know; many, in whom we believe the work is wrought, are often in doubt concerning it; whereas, the testimony of the Spirit enables the soul to rise superior to those doubtful disputations, which sometimes hinder the progress of those who are really saved from sin. I neither have, nor desire to have a witness, that ‘sin will never enter more;’ for my everlasting life depends upon patiently continuing in well doing. I feel great love to Jesus Christ; but when I think of God the Father, I can find nothing but boundless inconceivables. Many unnecessary things are presented to my imagination; but, as soon as they appear to be such, I can as easily dismiss them as I can move my hand. ‘Tis long since I had the shadow of a doubt of my final acceptance with God; but yet, I cannot say, that I am sealed to the day of redemption. Though I am possessed of every natural passion, it is long since I felt a desire, inordinate either in kind or degree.”

John Fox testified that he “knew he was saved from sin, and loved God with all his _heart_; yet his _mind_ was not always stayed upon Him. But he saw, that this, as well as the former blessing, was to be received by simple faith. From this time, he continually prayed for an increase of faith; and it was not long before his soul was brought as into the immediate presence of God, who, from that hour, did every moment keep his _heart_ and his _mind_ also.”

Daniel Carney said:

“Mr. M—— spoke some time since, concerning the necessity of watching over the wandering of the eye and ear. This struck me exceedingly; for I remembered how often, when I was happy in God, my eye was nevertheless wandering, to look at my child, or something else that did not profit. I cried mightily to be delivered from this; and one morning pleaded that promise, ‘Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee,’ I said, ‘Why not now, Lord? Thou canst give it me _now_!’ Immediately it was to me according to my faith. I have found no wanderings since.”

Carney adds:

“Brother Biggs and Calvert received the same blessing about the same time. This morning, Sarah Guildford, and another of our brethren, testified the same thing. And they all declare, this is as different from what they received before, as that is from justification.”

These testimonies might be multiplied; but enough has been adduced, to show that great excitement existed. All agreed that the _second_ blessing, as it was often termed, was to be obtained by simple faith; but, on other matters, there was much confusion. Some speak of a _direct witness_ of entire sanctification; others speak of persons entirely sanctified who were without such witness. Some speak not only of a _second_, but a _third blessing_; not only of the sanctification of the _heart_, but of the _mind_; and speak of them as distinct acts, experienced at different times, though both obtained by faith.

Wesley was a student of the Bible. He drew his theology from that; but he was always anxious to have his theology confirmed by the experience of Christians. For this purpose, when he, in 1738, embraced the doctrine of justification by faith only, he went to Herrnhuth to make himself acquainted with the views and feelings of the people in that Moravian settlement; and now, in 1761, when the doctrine of entire sanctification from sin, attainable in an instant, by simple faith, was becoming popular among the Methodists, he not only weighed the doctrine in the balances of holy Scripture, but did his utmost to ascertain what those who professed to experience it had to say concerning it. There was much to be disapproved; but there was also much to be encouraged. In the midst of the agitation, Wesley wrote, “Otley, July 7, 1761:”

“The perfection I teach, is perfect love; loving God with all the heart: receiving Christ as Prophet, Priest, and King, to reign alone over all our thoughts, words, and actions. The papists neither teach nor believe this; give even the devil his due. They _teach_ there is no perfection here, which is not consistent with _venial_ sins; and among venial sins they commonly reckon fornication. Now this is so far from the perfection I teach, that it does not come up to any but Mr. Relly’s perfection. To say, Christ will not reign alone in our hearts, _in this life_, will not enable us to give Him _all_ our hearts. This, in my judgment, is making Him _half_ a Saviour; He can be no more, if He does not _quite save_ us from our sins.”[456]

In another letter, dated “December 26, 1761,” he says:

“I know many who love God with all their heart, mind, soul, and strength. He is their one desire, their one delight, and they are continually happy in Him. They love their neighbour as themselves. They feel as sincere, fervent, constant a desire for the happiness of every man, good or bad, friend or enemy, as for their own. They rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks. Their souls are continually streaming up to God in holy joy, prayer, and praise. This is plain, sound, scriptural experience. And of this we have more and more living witnesses.

“But these souls dwell in a shattered, corruptible body, and are so pressed down thereby, that they cannot _exert_ their love as they would, by always thinking, speaking, and acting _precisely right_. For want of better bodily organs, they sometimes inevitably think, speak, or act wrong. Yet, I think, they need the advocacy of Christ, even for these involuntary defects; although, they do not imply a defect of _love_, but of _understanding_. However that be, I cannot doubt the fact. They are _all love_; yet they cannot _walk_ as they desire. ‘But are they _all love_ while they grieve the Holy Spirit?’ No surely: they are then fallen from their steadfastness; and this they may do even after they are sealed. So that, even to such, strong cautions are needful. After the heart is cleansed from pride, anger, and desire, it may suffer them to re-enter. Therefore, I have long thought, some expressions in the hymns are abundantly too strong; as I cannot perceive any state mentioned in Scripture from which we may not, in a measure at least, fall.”[457]

As already stated, much loose language on the subject of entire sanctification was employed; though, for this, Wesley can hardly be held responsible. Still it gave offence, and created disquietude. Grimshaw wrote to Wesley a letter, dated “July 23, 1761,” complaining, that even some of the preachers had said: “He is a child of the devil, who disbelieves the doctrine of sinless perfection; and he is no true Christian, who has not attained to it.” Grimshaw adds:

“Brother Lee declared, (and I could not but believe him,) that you did, and would utterly reject any such expressions. _Sinless_ perfection is a grating term to many of our dear brethren; even to those who are as desirous to be holy in heart and life, as any perhaps of them who affect to speak in this unscriptural way. Should we not discountenance the use of it, and advise its votaries to exchange it for terms less offensive, but sufficiently expressive of true Christian holiness? By this, I mean all that holiness of heart and life, which is literally, plainly, abundantly taught us all over the Bible; and without which no man, however justified through faith in the righteousness of Christ, can ever expect to see the Lord. This is that holiness, that Christian perfection, that sanctification, which without affecting strange, fulsome, offensive, unscriptural expressions, I ardently desire and strenuously labour to attain. This is attainable: for this let us contend; to this let us diligently exhort and excite all our brethren daily; and this the more as we see the day—the happy, the glorious day—approaching.”[458]

Wesley acted upon Grimshaw’s hint; and, before the conference in London broke up, preached from the text, “In many things we offend all;” from which he took occasion to observe—(1) That, as long as the soul is connected with the body, it cannot think but by the help of bodily organs. (2) As long as these organs are imperfect, we shall be liable to _mistakes_, both speculative and _practical_. (3) For all these we need the atoning blood, as indeed for every defect or omission. Therefore, (4) All men have need to say daily, _forgive us our trespasses_.[459]

About the same time, he preached and published his sermon on “Wandering Thoughts,” in which he lays it down, that every man, either in sleep, or from some other cause, is, more or less, innocently delirious every four-and-twenty hours; and that the only “wandering thoughts,” which are sinful, and from which we should pray to be delivered, are—(1) All those thoughts which wander from God, and leave Him no room in the mind; (2) all which spring from sinful tempers; (3) all which produce or feed sinful tempers. In summing up the whole, he writes: “To expect deliverance from wandering thoughts, occasioned by evil spirits, is to expect that the devil should die or fall asleep. To expect deliverance from those which are occasioned by other men, is to expect, either that men should cease from the earth, or that we should be absolutely secluded from them. And to pray for deliverance from those which are occasioned by the body, is, in effect, to pray that we may leave the body.”

The sermon is well worth reading; and, at the time, was of the utmost importance, in checking the fanaticism of the London Methodists respecting what they called the sanctification of the _mind_.

Conference being ended, Wesley “spent a fortnight more in London, guarding both the preachers and people against running into extremes on the one hand or the other”; and then, on Sunday, September 20, set off, by coach, to Bristol, where he employed the next six weeks. “Here likewise,” he writes, “I had the satisfaction to observe a considerable increase in the work of God. The congregations were exceeding large, and the people hungering and thirsting after righteousness; and every day afforded us fresh instances of persons convinced of sin, or converted to God. Indeed, God was pleased to pour out His Spirit this year, on every part both of England and Ireland; perhaps, in a manner we had never seen before; certainly not for twenty years. Oh what pity, that so many even of the children of God did not know the day of their visitation!”

At Kingswood the society, which had been much diminished, had now again nearly three hundred members, “many of whom,” says he, “were now athirst for full redemption, which for some years they had almost forgotten.” He desired all in Bristol and its neighbourhood, who believed themselves to be entirely sanctified, to meet him. About eighteen responded. He says, “I examined them severally, as exactly as I could; and I could not find anything in their tempers (supposing they spoke true) any way contrary to their profession.”

On October 31, Wesley returned to London, and immediately began a course of sermons on Christian perfection. On November 23 he went to Canterbury, where he found many with “a deeper work of God in their heart than they ever had before.” On Sunday, November 29, he writes: “We had a lovefeast in London, at which several declared the blessings they had found lately. We need not be careful by what name to call them, while the thing is beyond dispute. Many have, and many do daily, experience an unspeakable change. After being deeply convinced of inbred sin, particularly of pride, self will, and unbelief, in a moment, they feel all faith and love; no pride, no self will, or anger; and, from that moment, they have continual fellowship with God, always rejoicing, praying, and giving thanks. Whoever ascribes such a change to the devil, I ascribe it to the Spirit of God.”

With the exception of a brief visit to Colchester, the remainder of the year was spent in London, part of the time being occupied in writing “Farther Thoughts on Christian Perfection,” and part in removing misunderstandings fomented by Thomas Maxfield and others, which will have to be more fully noticed in ensuing pages.

The following letter to Charles Wesley, who was out of health, is full of interest.

“LONDON, _December 26, 1761_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—Spend as many hours in the congregation as you can; but exercise alone will strengthen your lungs; or electrifying, which I wonder you did not try long ago. Never start at its being a quack medicine. I desire no other; particularly since I was so nearly murdered by being cured of my ague _secundum artem_. You should always write standing and sloping.

“We are always in danger of enthusiasm; but I think no more now than any time these twenty years. The word of God runs indeed, and loving faith spreads on every side. Do not take my word, or any one else’s; but come and see. It is good to be in London now.

“It is impossible for me to correct my own books. I sometimes think it strange, that I have not one preacher that will and can. I think every one of them owes me so much service.

“Pray tell R. Sheen, I am hugely displeased at his reprinting the Nativity Hymns, and omitting the very best hymn in the collection,—‘All glory to God in the sky,’ etc.

“I beg they may never more be printed without it. Omit one or two, and I will thank you. They are namby-pambical. I wish you would give us two or three invitatory hymns; we want such exceedingly. My love to Sally. My wife gains ground. Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[460]

This was an eventful year. Charles Wesley was ill, and out of town. Wesley was most of the time employed in visiting country societies. London was left in the hands of inexperienced and enthusiastic guides; and a great work of God was injured by the fanaticism of well meaning but weak minded people. But more of this anon.

The year began with an attack, in the _London Magazine_, on the Methodist doctrine of assurance, the writer taking upon himself to say, that “the Methodists insist, that they themselves are sure of salvation; but that all others are outcasts from God’s favour, and in a damnable state.”[461] In other articles, in the same periodical, Wesley was branded as “an enemy to religion, and a deceiver of the people;” “an enthusiast, a very great enthusiast;” with no more “knowledge of and esteem for the holy Scriptures than a Mahommedan.”[462] It is affirmed, that one of Wesley’s preachers, “who instructed the good people of England, at or near Rye, in Sussex, was known to be a popish priest, by a gentleman, who was no stranger to his person and functions in foreign parts.” The writer continues: “the Methodists may with as much reason be considered good sons of the Church, as an unruly boy that runs away from his parents may be deemed a dutiful, obedient child. I can consider them only as spies, deserters, and incendiaries. Was I to form a judgment of Christ’s disciples by your followers, very just would be the sarcasm of Zosimus on Christianity, ‘That it was only a sanctuary for villains,’”[463] In fact, “Methodism was a spurious mixture of enthusiasm and blasphemy, popery and quakerism.”[464]

Wesley replied to this anonymous scribbler, in a characteristic letter, dated “February 17, 1761,” and addressed “to Mr. G. R., _alias_ R. A., _alias_ M. K., _alias_ R. W.” He writes: “As you are stout, be merciful; or I shall never be able to stand it. Four attacks in one month! and pushed so home! Well, I must defend myself as I can.” And defend himself he did, most trenchantly.[465]

Another writer described the Methodists as “a race of men, which seemed to bear a near resemblance to the new species of rats. They were amphibious creatures, between the church and the conventicle, as those animals are between land and water. They made settlements in every part of the country, and devoured the fruits of the earth; they drew the simple folk from that necessary business, which God and nature designed them for, to the great loss, if not total ruin, of their families; and they filled men’s heads with doubts and fears, and emptied their pockets of their money.”[466]

Further attacks were made in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, and in other periodicals, but of a more moderate and courteous character; with the exception of an infamous article in _St. James’s Chronicle_, in which Whitefield is ridiculed, in a long, lying piece, entitled “Similes, Metaphors, and Familiar Allusions made use of by Dr. Squintum.” There was likewise published a scandalous pamphlet of thirty-two pages, bearing the title of “A Journal of the Travels of Nathaniel Snip, a Methodist Teacher of the Word; containing an account of the marvellous adventures which befel him on his way from the town of Kingston upon Hull to the city of York.” Another production was an octavo pamphlet, of forty-three pages, entitled, “An Address to the Right Honourable ——; with several Letters to the D—— of —— from the L——. In vindication of her conduct on being charged with Methodism.” In this high sounding piece of preposterous pretentiousness, Methodist preachers are described as men who “think their _assurance_ to be the _gift_, and their _nonsense_ to be the _dictates_, of the Holy Ghost.” They are like some of the “designing men” mentioned by Tillotson, who “recommend themselves to the ignorant, by talking against reason, just as nurses endear themselves to children by noise and nonsense.”

The most respectable onslaught, in 1761, was in two sermons, preached before the university of Oxford, at St. Mary’s, on Act Sunday, July 12, by Dr. Hitchcock, fellow of St. John’s college, and one of the preachers at his majesty’s chapel at Whitehall; and on July 19, by the Rev. John Allen, M.A., vice principal of St. Mary Magdalene hall.” Dr. Hitchcock’s sermon was entitled, “The mutual Connection between Faith, Virtue, and Knowledge,” and was published at the request of the vice chancellor, and the heads of houses; Mr. Allen’s bore the title of “No Acceptance with God by Faith only,” and was published at the request of the vice chancellor alone. There can be little doubt, that this was a concerted movement, and was intended to be an unanswerable refutation of Wesley’s heresies. Of course, such men were not likely to employ the coarse abuse which newspapers and magazines were wont to cast upon the Methodists; but even here, in St. Mary’s, before the university of Oxford, where Methodism had its rise, and after it had existed and triumphed for more than twenty years, Dr. Hitchcock coolly told the vice chancellor, the heads of houses, and his illustrious congregation, that the Methodists were men of “no knowledge”; that they were building “up a church upon enthusiasm, rhapsody, and nonsense”; and Mr. Allen “willingly undertook” to refute “the leading tenet of modern enthusiasm by proving the following proposition, That faith, in its highest degree, when alone, or distinct from other virtues, is so far from saving or justifying any person, that it doth not _necessarily produce_ good works.”

Wesley himself was too busy, in 1761, to write and publish much. His productions were the following.

1. “A Plain Account of Genuine Christianity.” 12mo, 12 pages. This was simply a reprint of the conclusion of Wesley’s letter to Dr. Middleton, published in 1749. Wesley’s description of a Christian, and of Christian faith, in this little tract, deserves the reader’s best attention.

2. “An Extract of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Journal, from February 16, 1755, to June 16, 1758.” 12mo, 146 pages.

3. “Select Hymns: with Tunes Annexed: designed chiefly for the Use of the People called Methodists.” 12mo, 139 pages. Would that the Methodists of the present day would sing the tunes furnished by their founder, instead of leaving choirs to repeat, parrot like, the inane noises now too generally attached to Charles Wesley’s glorious and glowing hymns, and which, by a monstrous perversion of truth, taste, and language, are considered sacred music of pure and classic type. We are weary of such singing in Methodist chapels, and most deeply deplore the day when, by some mistaken theoriser, it was introduced. It is devouring the very vitals of Methodistic worship, and no more harmonizes with the Wesley hymns than an automatic scarecrow with a breathing, living man.

Musicians, in Wesley’s day, were as self conceited and as obstinate as musicians now. In the preface to his Tunes Annexed, he tells us:

“I have been endeavouring, for more than twenty years, to procure such a book as this; but in vain. Masters of music were above following any direction but their own; and I was determined, whoever compiled this should follow _my_ direction: not _mending_ our tunes, but setting them down, neither better nor worse than they were. At length, I have prevailed. The following collection contains all the tunes which are in _common use_ among us. They are pricked _true_, exactly as I desire all our congregations may sing them; and here is prefixed to them a collection of those hymns which are, I think, some of _the best_ we have published. The _volume_ likewise is _small_, as well as the _price_. This, therefore, I recommend, preferable to all others.”

Appended to the tunes are Wesley’s well known directions concerning singing, which it would be well if all his societies would follow. Wesley himself was full of music, and to this, in great part, may be attributed the glorious singing of the early Methodists. With such a leader, and with their hearts full of the love of God, it is not surprising that their service of praise has become proverbial. They sang with the spirit, and with the understanding also.

It may be added here, once for all, that Wesley’s book of music, with some variations and improvements, was republished in several succeeding years, with the altered titles of “Sacred Melody; or, a Choice Collection of Psalm and Hymn Tunes”; and “Sacred Harmony: or, a Choice Collection of Psalm and Hymn Tunes, in two or three Parts—for the Voice, Harpsichord, and Organ.” These editions are now before us; but further description is unnecessary.

1762

[Sidenote: 1762 Age 59]

Whitefield and Charles Wesley were still invalids, and, though they preached with more or less frequency, their evangelistic labours, in 1762, were limited when compared with the labours of former years.

Wesley began the year with a grand service, in the chapel at Spitalfields, at which nearly two thousand members of the London society were present. Besides Berridge and Maxfield, he was assisted by Benjamin Colley, a young man, born at Tollerton, near Easingwold, who had recently received episcopal ordination, and was now officiating, as a clergyman, in Methodist chapels. His ministerial gifts were small;[467] but his piety was sincere and earnest. Strangely enough, this young Yorkshire Levite was carried away by the fanatical enthusiasm of Bell and Maxfield (to be noticed shortly), and though he did not live more than half-a-dozen years afterwards, his life was clouded, and not what it might have been.[468]

The remarkable work of sanctification was rapidly spreading throughout the whole of the United Kingdom. Wesley wrote:

“Many have been convinced of sin, many justified, and many backsliders healed. But the peculiar work of this season has been, what St. Paul calls ‘the perfecting of the saints.’ Many persons in London, in Bristol, in York, and in various parts, both of England and Ireland, have experienced so deep and universal a change, as it had not entered into their hearts to conceive. After a deep conviction of inbred sin, of their total fall from God, they have been so filled with faith and love (and generally in a moment), that sin vanished, and they found, from that time, no pride, anger, desire, or unbelief. They could rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks. Now, whether we call this the destruction or suspension of sin, it is a glorious work of God; such a work as, considering both the depth and extent of it, we never saw in these kingdoms before. It is possible some have been mistaken; and it is certain some have lost what they then received. A few (very few, compared to the whole number) first gave way to enthusiasm, then to pride, next to prejudice and offence, and at last separated from their brethren. But although this laid a huge stumbling block in the way, still the work of God went on. Nor has it ceased to this day in any of its branches. God still convinces, justifies, sanctifies. We have lost only the dross, the enthusiasm, the prejudice, and offence. The pure gold remains, faith working by love, and, we have ground to believe, increases daily.”[469]

This was written at the end of 1763. On the last day of 1762, Wesley remarked in his Journal: “I looked back on the past year; a year of uncommon trials and uncommon blessings. Abundance have been convinced of sin; very many have found peace with God; and, in London only, I believe full two hundred have been brought into glorious liberty. And, yet, I have had more care and trouble in six months, than in several years preceding. What the end will be, I know not; but it is enough that God knoweth.”

To understand Wesley’s allusions here, we must briefly glance at the history of two of the principal men concerned.

Thomas Maxfield was one of Wesley’s first preachers. For more than twenty years, he had acted under Wesley’s direction. His origin in Bristol was humble, but he had married a wife with considerable fortune. At Wesley’s instigation, a friend had recommended him to Dr. Barnard, bishop of Londonderry, for ordination. The bishop said, “Sir, I ordain you, to assist that good man, that he may not work himself to death.”[470] Maxfield thus became one of Wesley’s most important preachers; and, perhaps, this was one of the reasons why not a few regarded him with envy. At all events, many censured him; and Wesley “continually and strenuously defended him; thereby offending several of his preachers, and a great number of his people.”

As early as 1760, Wesley had appointed Maxfield to meet, every Friday, a sort of select band in London, consisting of Messrs. Biggs, Latlets, Calvert, and Dixon,[471] all of whom professed to be entirely sanctified. Some of these favoured ones soon had dreams, visions, and impressions, as they thought, from God; and Maxfield, instead of repressing their whimsies, encouraged them. Presently, their visions created contempt for those who had them not; and were regarded as proofs of the highest grace. Some of the preachers opposed these holy visionaries with a considerable amount of roughness. This excited their resentment. They refused to hear their rebukers preach, and followed after Maxfield. Their numbers multiplied; and Maxfield told them, they were not to be taught by man, especially by those who had less grace than themselves. The result was, when Wesley returned to London in October, 1762, he found the society in an uproar, and Maxfield’s friends formed into a sort of detached connexion. Enthusiasm, pride, and intense uncharitableness were now the chief characteristics of these high professors. Wesley tenderly reproved them. One of them resented, and cried out, “We will not be browbeaten any longer; we will throw off the mask;” and, accordingly, returned her own and her husband’s tickets, saying, “Sir, we will have no more to do with you; Mr. Maxfield is our teacher.”

At the conference of 1761, Maxfield had been arraigned, for some misdemeanour not specified; but Wesley spoke in his defence, and silenced his accusers.[472] Still Wesley was in doubt concerning him, and wrote him a long letter, telling him mildly all he heard or feared concerning him. Maxfield resented, and said he had no thought of a separation, and that Wesley was at liberty to call him John or Judas, Moses or Korah, as he pleased. He alleged, that Wesley and his brother contradicted the highest truths; and that almost all who “called themselves ministers of Christ, or preachers of Christ, contended for sin to remain in the heart as long as we live, as though it was the only thing Christ delighted to behold in His members.”

George Bell, a native of Barningham, near Barnard castle, had been a corporal in the Life Guards. He was converted in the year 1758, and pretended to be sanctified in the month of March, 1761. A few days afterwards, he wrote an account of this to Wesley, in a letter tinged with a frenzy, which Wesley was too ready to regard as the breathings of a superior piety.[473] Bell soon developed into a full blown enthusiast, and helped to taint not a few of his Methodist associates. He began to hold meetings of his own, declaring, that God had _done_ with all preachings and sacraments, and was to be found nowhere but in the assemblies of himself and his London friends.[474] He diligently propagated the principle, that “none could teach those who are renewed in love, unless they were in the state themselves.”[475] His admirers fancied themselves more holy than our first parents, and incapable of falling. They professed to have the gift of healing, and actually attempted to give eyesight to the blind, and to raise the dead.[476] From a misconstrued text in the Revelation, they inferred, that they were to be exempt from death.[477] Wesley writes, on November 24, 1762: “Being determined to hear for myself, I stood where I could hear and see, without being seen. George Bell prayed, in the whole, pretty near an hour. His fervour of spirit I could not but admire. I afterwards told him what I did not admire; namely, (1) his screaming, every now and then, in so strange a manner, that one could scarce tell what he said; (2) his thinking he had the miraculous discernment of spirits; and, (3) his sharply condemning his opposers.”

Meanwhile, Wesley and his brother had an interview with Maxfield, and found that, in some things, he had been blamed without a cause; other things he promised to alter. On November 1, 1762, Wesley sent to Maxfield, Bell, and others, a written statement of what he liked and disliked in their doctrine, spirit, and behaviour. In reference to the first, he says, he liked their “doctrine of perfection or love excluding sin; their insisting that it is merely by faith; that it is instantaneous, though preceded and followed by a gradual work; and, that it may be now, at this instant.” But he disliked their “supposing man may be as perfect as an angel; that he can be absolutely perfect; that he can be infallible, or above being tempted; or, that the moment he is pure in heart, he cannot fall from it.” He disliked their “depreciating justification, by saying a justified person is not born of God, and that he cannot please God, nor grow in grace.” He disliked their doctrine, that a sanctified person needs no self examination, no private prayer; and that he cannot be taught by any one who is not in the same state as himself.

Then, in reference to their _spirit_, he told them, that he liked their confidence in God, and their zeal for the salvation of sinners; but he disliked (1) their appearance of pride, of overvaluing themselves, and undervaluing others; (2) their enthusiasm, namely, overvaluing feelings and impressions, mistaking the mere work of the imagination for the voice of the Spirit, expecting the end without the means, and undervaluing reason, knowledge, and wisdom in general; (3) their antinomianism, in not magnifying the law enough, in not sufficiently valuing tenderness of conscience, and in using faith rather as contradistinguished from holiness than as productive of it; and (4), their littleness of love to their brethren, their want of union with them, their want of meekness, their impatience of contradiction, their counting every man an enemy who reproved or admonished them in love, their bigotry and narrowness of spirit, and their censoriousness or proneness to think hardly of all who did not agree with them.

As to their outward behaviour, he liked “the general tenour of their life, devoted to God, and spent in doing good”; but he disliked their slighting any of the rules of the society; their appointing meetings which hindered people attending the public preaching; their spending more time in their meetings than many of them could spare from the duties of their calling; the speaking or praying of several of them at once; their praying to the Son of God only, or more than to the Father; their using bold, pompous, magnificent, if not irreverent, expressions in prayer; their extolling themselves rather than God, and telling Him what they were, not what they wanted; their using poor, flat, bald hymns; their never kneeling at prayer, and using postures or gestures highly indecent; their screaming so as to make what they said unintelligible; their affirming people will be justified or sanctified just now, and bidding them say, ‘I believe’; and their bitterly condemning all who oppose them, calling them wolves, and pronouncing them hypocrites, or not justified.”

This is a mournful picture, especially of people making such high professions. The result was, the London society was thrown into great confusion. Wesley writes: “1762, November 8—I began visiting the classes; in many of which we had hot spirits to deal with. Some were vehement for, some against, the meetings for prayer, which were in several parts of the town. I said little, being afraid of taking any step which I might afterwards repent of.”

The delay in the exercise of discipline was too long. For twelve months, Wesley had seen it necessary to deal with these enthusiasts. At the beginning of 1762, he wrote to his brother: “If Thomas Maxfield continue as he is, it is impossible he should long continue with us. But I live in hope of better things. This week, I have begun to speak my mind concerning five or six honest enthusiasts. But I move only a hair’s breadth at a time. No sharpness will profit. There is need of a lady’s hand, as well as a lion’s heart.”

We incline to think Wesley used the lady’s hand too long, and that the lion’s paw would have been far more useful. At length, however, he began to preach on the subject. On December 5, 1762, he endeavoured to show in what sense sanctification is gradual, and in what sense it is instantaneous. A fortnight later, he preached on Christian simplicity, showing that it is not ignorance or folly, nor enthusiasm or credulity; but faith, humility, willingness to be taught, and freedom from evil reasonings. Despite all this, Bell waxed worse and worse; and, on December 26, Wesley desired him to take no further part in the services at West Street, or at the Foundery. “The reproach of Christ,” he writes, “I am willing to bear; but not the reproach of enthusiasm, if I can help it.” In a manuscript letter, dated “London, January 28, 1763,” Sarah Crosby writes:

“There has been much confusion here. The simple brethren keep meeting at various places, brother Bell being their chief speaker. The substance of what they say is, ‘Believe, and be simple. Believe all that is in the word of God, and all that is not there,—that is, if anything is revealed to you.’ They say they have a great gift in discerning spirits; but others dispute it. Nevertheless, I think they are good folk, and there has been a great outpouring of the Spirit in London these two or three years past.”

About the same time, Fletcher of Madeley wrote to Charles Wesley—

“I have a particular regard for Mr. Maxfield and Mr. Bell; both of them are my correspondents. I am strongly prejudiced in favour of the witnesses, and do not willingly receive what is said against them; but allowing that what is reported is one half mere exaggeration, the tenth part of the rest shows that spiritual pride, presumption, arrogance, stubbornness, party spirit, uncharitableness, prophetic mistakes,—in short, every sinew of enthusiasm, is now at work among them. I do not credit any one’s bare word; but I ground my sentiments on Bell’s own letters.”[478]

Bell consummated his fanaticism, by prophesying that the world would be brought to an end on February 28, 1763; and, strange to say, not a few believed him. The evil spread. Wesley preached sermons on the sin of division, and on judging; but what he said was “turned into poison” by those who needed his admonitions; and one of the friends of Bell remarked: “If the devil had been in the pulpit, he would not have preached such a sermon.” Meanwhile, Maxfield was privately promoting disunion, telling the people that Wesley was not capable of teaching them, and insinuating that no one was except himself. Mrs. Coventry came to Wesley, and threw down the tickets of herself, her husband, her daughters, and her servants, declaring that “they would hear two doctrines no longer, and that Mr. Maxfield preached perfection, but Mr. Wesley pulled it down.” About a dozen others, including Bell, copied Mrs. Coventry’s example. Maxfield, in a huff, removed his meeting of the sanctified from the Foundery, because Wesley instructed his preachers to be present at it, whenever he was not able to be there himself. One of the seceders told Wesley to his face, that he was a hypocrite, and, for that reason, they had resolved to have no further fellowship with him. About thirty, who thought themselves sanctified, had left the society; but there were above four hundred others, who witnessed the same confession, and seemed more united than ever.

Meanwhile, the 28th of February, 1763—George Bell’s day of judgment—drew nigh. Wesley denounced the mad corporal’s prognostication, in private, in the society meetings, in the pulpit, and, at length, in the public papers. He says that Maxfield was silent on the subject, and that he had reason to think he was a believer in Bell’s prophecy; though Maxfield himself afterwards denied that this was true.[479] Be that as it might, a number of Maxfield’s followers spent the night at the house of his most intimate friend, Mr. Biggs, every moment in full expectation of hearing the blast of the archangel’s trumpet.

On the day previous to the predicted final catastrophe, Bell and his believers ascended a mound near the site of St. Luke’s hospital, to have a last look at the city before its conflagration;[480] but, unfortunately for the mad prophet, two constables, with a warrant, arrested him, and carried him first before a magistrate in Long Acre, and then before another in Southwark, as it was there, “in an unlicensed meeting-house, that he had often vented his blasphemies.” The Borough magistrate committed him to the new prison, there to await the fulfilment of his prediction.[481] “I am sorry,” writes Whitefield, “to find that Mr. Bell is taken up. To take no notice would be the best method. A prison or outward punishment is but a poor cure for enthusiasm, or a disordered understanding. It may increase but not extinguish such an _ignis fatuus_.”[482]

On the evening of what was to be the world’s last day, Wesley preached at Spitalfields, on “Prepare to meet thy God”; and largely showed the utter absurdity of the supposition, that the world was to end as Bell predicted; but, notwithstanding all that he could say, many were afraid to go to bed, and some wandered in the fields, being persuaded that, if the world at large did not become a wreck, at all events an earthquake would engulf London.

Of course, Bell’s insane ravings turned out to be a fantastic falsehood; but the injury done to Methodism was serious. A writer, signing himself “Philodemas,” sent an abusive letter to _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, stating that, on going to a friend’s house on the evening of February 28, he found the family in the utmost consternation, because they were momentarily expecting the world to be dissolved; and then he proceeds to denounce Methodism as “the most destructive and dangerous system to government and society that ever was established. Neither good subjects, good servants, nor good wives could reasonably be expected to be found amongst the Methodists. Nursed up in enthusiasm and pretended miracles, attended with the dangerous doctrine of _assuring grace_, they had learned to look upon the rest of their fellow creatures as a set of wretches reserved for vengeance hereafter. There was scarce a street in the metropolis, where the common people lived, but what was infected, more or less, with this heretical system; some boasting their sins were forgiven; some in despair; many raving mad; and others neglecting their necessary occupations for the sake of it, and living in beggary and misery.”[483]

Wesley replied to this as follows.

“_March 18, 1763._

“SIR,—A pert, empty, self sufficient man, who calls himself ‘Philodemas,’ made use of your paper, a few days ago, to throw abundance of dirt at the people called Methodists. He takes occasion from the idle prophecy of Mr. Bell, with whom the Methodists have nothing to do, as he is not, nor has been for some time, a member of their society. Had he advanced anything new, or any particular charge, it would have deserved a particular answer. But, as his letter contains nothing but dull, stale, general slanders, which have been confuted ten times over, it would be abusing the patience of your readers to say any more concerning it.

“I am, sir, your humble servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[484]

After all, this deplorable outburst of fanaticism, in the London society, was not without good results. It was now, in 1763, that Wesley wrote his important sermon on “Sin in Believers,” in which he says: “I cannot, by any means, receive this assertion, that there is no sin in a believer from the moment he is justified; first, because it is contrary to the whole tenour of Scripture; secondly, because it is contrary to the experience of the children of God; thirdly, because it is absolutely new, never heard of in the world till yesterday, when those under the direction of the late Count Zinzendorf preached it; and lastly, because it is naturally attended with the most fatal consequences; not only grieving those whom God hath not grieved, but perhaps dragging them into everlasting perdition.”

It was now also, that Wesley published his “Cautions and Directions given to the greatest Professors in the Methodist societies;” which, in brief, were as follows: 1. Watch and pray continually against pride. 2. Beware of enthusiasm. 3. Beware of antinomianism. 4. Beware of sins of omission. 5. Beware of desiring anything but God. 6. Beware of schism. 7. Be exemplary in all things. The reader, who wishes to have a full view of the extravagances of those who professed sanctification in 1762, will do well to read Wesley’s “Cautions and Directions,” at length, as elaborated by himself. An enormous evil had sprung up, and it was one of the greatest facts of his eventful life, that Wesley was able to check the bad and to preserve the good.

On April 28, 1763, Maxfield fully and finally separated himself from Wesley, the latter taking as his text on the occasion, “If I am bereaved of my children, I am bereaved.” In 1767, Maxfield, in his vindication of himself, gave his views of sanctification,—views misty, mystical, and muddy, and, to say the least, widely different from those of Wesley.

He became Wesley’s enemy. “He spake,” says Wesley, “all manner of evil of me, his father, his friend, his greatest earthly benefactor. To Mr. M——n he said, ‘Mr. Wesley believed and countenanced all which Mr. Bell said; and the reason of our parting was this: he said to me one day,—Tommy, I will tell the people you are the greatest gospel preacher in England; and you shall tell them I am the greatest! For refusing to do this, Mr. Wesley put me away!’”

That Maxfield should utter such calumnies is almost incredible; and yet, it is certain that, in his “Vindication,” he writes of his old friend in terms not the most respectful. He talks of Wesley’s “penny history of Methodism”; whines about Wesley injuring his character, and thereby his usefulness; complains of Wesley keeping scores, if not hundreds, of his spiritual children from him; declares that, while he disapproved of Bell’s proceedings, Wesley encouraged them; taunts him with having been guilty of the same enthusiasm as Bell by his gloomy prophecies concerning Dr. Halley’s comet; asserts, that the reasons Bell assigned for leaving Wesley were his “double dealings and unfaithful proceedings”; and says that, in a society meeting at the Foundery, Wesley boastfully glorified himself, with the following epitaph of Philip of Macedon:—

“Here Philip lies, on the Dalmatian shore, Who did what mortal never did before. Yet, if there’s one who boasts he more hath done, To me he owes it, for he was my son.”

Maxfield lived twenty years after this separation. He took with him about two hundred of Wesley’s London society, and preached to a large congregation in a chapel in Ropemaker’s Alley, Little Moorfields. Towards the close of life he again became friendly with the Methodists; and Wesley visited him in his last illness, and also preached in his chapel.[485] In 1766, Maxfield published a hymn-book of more than four hundred pages, many of his hymns being selections from those published by his old friends, the Wesleys. In the preface, he still complains of persecution, in being represented as “heading a party of wild enthusiasts”; but says, “such a groundless charge deserves no answer,” and appeals to his hymn-book as a proof.

George Bell, for many years, was Maxfield’s survivor, but made no pretension to religion. “He recovered his senses,” says Southey, “to make a deplorable use of them; passing from one extreme to another, the ignorant enthusiast became an ignorant infidel; turned fanatic in politics, as he had done in religion; and, having gone through all the degrees of disaffection and disloyalty, died, at a great age, a radical reformer.”

We only add that, in 1762, Charles Wesley, who had been laid aside by ill health from preaching, published, in two volumes, his “Short Hymns on Select Passages of the Holy Scriptures,” in the preface to which he says: “Several of the hymns are intended to prove, and several to guard, the doctrine of Christian perfection. I durst not publish one without the other. In the latter sort I use some severity; not against

## particular persons, but against enthusiasts and antinomians, who, by

not living up to their profession, give abundant occasion to them that seek it, and cause the truth to be evil spoken of.”

Mr. Jackson writes:

“Until this time, it had been understood, that Mr. Charles Wesley agreed with his brother on this as well as every other doctrine of Christian verity; although he had repeatedly used unguarded expressions in his hymns, which could not be justified. But now his views on this subject appear to have undergone a change, in consequence of the extravagance and pride of which he was a distressed witness. He did not, from this time, contend, as do many, for the necessary continuance of indwelling sin till death; but he spoke of Christian perfection as a much higher attainment than either he or his brother had previously regarded it. In his estimation, it is not to be obtained by a present act of faith in the mercy, truth, and power of God; but is rather the result of severe discipline, comprehending affliction, temptation, long continued labour, and the persevering exercise of faith in seasons of spiritual darkness, when the heart is wrung with bitter anguish. By this painful and lingering process, he believed that the death of ‘the old man’ is effected, and a maturity is given to all the graces of the Christian character. Hence, he condemned ‘the witnesses,’ as he called them; that is, the persons who testified of the time and manner in which they were delivered from the root of sin, and made perfect in love, regarding them as self deceived. In some of his ‘Short Hymns,’ he has given considerable importance to these peculiarities of opinion.

“This change in Mr. Charles Wesley’s manner of speaking on the subject of Christian perfection, as might be expected, gave considerable uneasiness to his brother, who felt it to be very undesirable that they should even seem to contradict each other in their ministry and writings. In a letter, therefore, to Miss Furley, he says, ‘Take care you are not hurt by anything in the “Short Hymns,” contrary to the doctrines you have long received.’ And, on the same subject, he also says, in a letter to Charles,—‘That perfection which I believe, I can boldly preach; because I think I see five hundred witnesses of it. Of that perfection which you preach, you think you do not see any witness at all. Why, then, you must have far more courage than me, or you could not persist in preaching it. I wonder you do not, in this article, fall in plumb with Mr. Whitefield. For do not you, as well as he, ask, “Where are the perfect ones?” I verily believe there are none upon earth; none dwelling in the body. I cordially assent to his opinion, that there is no such perfection here as you describe; at least, I never met with an instance of it; and I doubt I never shall. Therefore I still think, to set perfection so high is effectually to renounce it.’

“At a subsequent period, he again addressed Charles on the same subject. ‘Some thoughts,’ says he, ‘occurred to my mind this morning, which, I believe, it may be useful to set down; the rather, because it may be a means of our understanding each other clearly; that we may agree as far as ever we can, and then let all the world know it.

“‘I was thinking on Christian perfection, with regard to the thing, the manner, and the time.

“‘1. By perfection I mean the humble, gentle, patient love of God and man, ruling all the tempers, words, and actions; the whole heart, and the whole life.

“‘I do not include a possibility of falling from it, either in part or in whole. Therefore, I retract several expressions in our hymns, which partly express, partly imply, such an impossibility. And I do not contend for the term _sinless_, though I do not object against it. Do we agree or differ here? If we differ, wherein?

“‘2. As to the manner, I believe this perfection is always wrought in the soul by faith, by a simple act of faith; consequently, in an instant. But I believe a gradual work, both preceding and following that instant. Do we agree or differ here?

“‘3. As to the time, I believe this instant generally is the instant of death, the moment before the soul leaves the body. But I believe it may be ten, twenty, or forty years before death. Do we agree or differ here?

“‘I believe it is usually many years after justification; but that it _may be_ within five years, or five months after it. I know no conclusive argument to the contrary. Do you?

“‘If it _must be_ many years after justification, I would be glad to know how many. _Pretium quotus arrogat annus?_ And how many days, or months, or even years, can you allow to be between perfection and death? How far from justification _must_ it be? and how near to death?

“‘If it be possible, let you and me come to a good understanding, both for our own sakes, and for the sake of the people.’

“What answer Mr. Charles Wesley returned to this candid and sensible letter, we have no means of ascertaining.”[486]

The reader must excuse this long digression, on the ground, (1) That the enthusiasm of this period was one of the great events in Wesley’s history, and issued not only in a disruption of the London society, but in serious results which were more than coeval with Wesley’s life. John Pawson, in a manuscript letter, dated “London, January 13, 1796,” remarks: “We have a very blessed work here; but the old people are so afraid of George Bell’s work returning, that they can hardly be persuaded it is the work of God, because of a little disorder that attends it.” And a month later, he writes: “The good work is not so lively as it was. This, I think, has been chiefly caused by the old members being so exceedingly afraid of George Bell’s days. An excess of prudence has hindered it.” We have here, thirty-three years after Maxfield and Bell’s secession, one of the effects of their fanatical behaviour. Then, (2) it must be borne in mind, that it was not until now that the doctrine of Christian perfection, attainable in an instant, by a simple act of faith, was made prominent in Methodist congregations; but that, ever after, it was one of the chief topics of Wesley’s ministry, and that of his itinerant preachers. Of this we shall have ample proof in succeeding pages.

We now return to Wesley’s Journal, and follow him in his peregrinations, during the year 1762. “This year,” says he, “from the beginning to the end, was a year never to be forgotten. Such a season I never saw before. Such a multitude of sinners were converted, in all parts both of England and Ireland, and so many were filled with pure love.”[487]

On January 2, he set out for Everton, to supply for Berridge, who was hard at work in London, and whose church and pulpit he occupied on two successive Sundays, preaching to large and lively congregations; but not now witnessing there any of the extravagances which had been so manifest a few years before. “Indeed,” says Wesley, “the people were now in danger of running from east to west. Instead of thinking, as many did then, that none can possibly have true faith but those that have trances, they were now ready to think, that whoever had anything of this kind had no faith.”

During his sojourn at Everton, Wesley visited many of the surrounding villages, and everywhere testified the gospel of the grace of God. Though it was the depth of winter, he preached at Harston by moonlight. In every place, crowds flocked to hear him. Some cried out in great distress, others dropped down as dead; and several found peace with God.

On January 12 he came to Norwich, where he excluded two hundred members, because they neglected to meet in class; and left about four hundred remaining, “half of whom appeared to be in earnest.”

Returning to London on January 23, he writes: “I had a striking proof, that God can teach by whom He will teach. A man full of words, but not of understanding, convinced me of what I could never see before, that _anima est ex traduce_, that all the souls of his posterity, as well as their bodies, were in our first parent.”

On the 15th of March, Wesley left London for Ireland, taking Bristol and Wales on his way. He arrived at Dublin about three weeks afterwards. For the first time, he now saw Dublin chapel “_throughly filled_.”

On April 19, he started on his tour through the Irish provinces. At Newry, the society had been reduced from nearly a hundred members to thirty-two. At Carrickfergus, he had to delay the morning preaching, because “the delicate and curious hearers could not possibly rise before ten o’clock.” At Belfast, he preached in the market house. At Newtown, “the poor shattered society was reduced from fifty to eighteen members,” which were doubled, however, before he left. At Lisburn he had “many rich and gentle hearers.” At Lurgan he had, what he had long desired, an opportunity of conversing with Mr. Miller, who had executed a piece of mechanism “the like of which was not to be seen in Europe.” At Clanmain, he opened the new chapel. At Enniskillen, “the inhabitants gloried, that they had no papist in the town.” At Sligo, he preached to “abundance of dragoons, and many of their officers;” a company of strolling players acting in the upper part of the market house, while the Methodists sang hymns below.

It was either here, or somewhere else in Ireland, that Wesley met with an adventure worth relating. The scene is a public house, the spectators a number of Irish tipplers; the performers in the drama, Wesley, a termagant landlady, and a starving player. The last mentioned reclines on a wooden couch in the chimney corner, arrayed in a motley dress that, like its owner, seemed to have seen better days. The landlady, addressing him in furious tones, bawls rather than speaks: “Turn out, you pitiable ragamuffin; plenty of promises, but no money; either pay your way, or you and your doll of a wife turn out.” Just at this juncture, Wesley enters, and the terrible tongued woman, in an instant, becomes one of the mildest of Abigails. “Dear sir,” she says, “I am glad you’re come; this man, sir, is a very bad man, sir; as you said in your sermon yesterday, ‘He that oppresseth the poor is a bad man,’ sir.” “What has he done?” asks Wesley. “Why, sir, I have kept him and his wife for a fortnight, and have never seen the colour of his money. Three crowns is my due, and I’ll have it, if law can get it.” “Who is this gentleman?” “Who is he? why he is one of those you preach against, one of your player men. I wish you could preach them out of the town. Why, sir, they are all starving. I don’t think this man has got a good meal for a fortnight, except what I have given him, and now you see his gratitude.” Wesley approached the poor, starving, dejected actor, and said: “You serve the stage, young man; would I could teach you to serve your God; you would find Him a better Master. Pardon me, I mean not to upbraid you, or to hurt your feelings. My Master sent you this;” putting into his hand a guinea; “retire, and thank Him.” “Who is your master?” cried the actor; “where and how shall I thank him?” “God is my Master; return Him thanks.” “How?” “On your knees when in private; in public at all times, in your principles and in your practice; farewell, go comfort your wife and children.” The poor, astonished player, though a dealer in words, was dumbfoundered, and sobbing a gratitude which he was not able to articulate, he left the room. “Three crowns is your demand on our afflicted brother?” said Wesley to the termagant. “Yes, sir, fifteen shillings; and if he does not pay me, I’ll seize his rags upstairs, sell them, and pay myself.” “I will pay you,” said Wesley; “but what can you think of yourself? How terrible will be your condition on your death bed, calling for that mercy, which you refuse to a fellow creature! I shudder whilst under your roof, and leave it, as I would the pestilence. May the Lord pardon your sins!” With this, he put fifteen shillings on the table, and made his exit. “Pardon my sins?” quoth the irate female tapster; “pardon my sins, indeed! and why not his own? I’ll warrant he has as much to answer for as I have; getting a parcel of people together, that ought to be minding their work. Why it was only yesterday, he was preaching everybody to the devil that encouraged the players, and to-day he is the first to do it himself.” “This gentleman is a clergyman, I suppose,” said one of the spectators. “A clergyman!” replied the landlady; “not he, indeed; it’s only John Wesley, the Methodist, that goes preaching up and down, and draws all the idle vagabonds of the country after him.”[488]

Space forbids our following Wesley to Longford, Athlone, Hollymount, Newport, Galway (where all the society were young women), Limerick, Cork, Youghal, Kinsale, Bandon, Waterford, Kilkenny, Birr, Portarlington, and other places. “Poor, dead Portarlington!” writes Wesley; “and no wonder it should be so, while the preachers coop themselves up in a room with twenty or thirty hearers. I went straight to the market place, and cried aloud, ‘Hearken! behold a sower went forth to sow.’ God made His word quick and powerful, and sharp as a two-edged sword.”

Wesley got back to Dublin on July 26, and, a few days afterwards, embarked for England.

On reviewing the work in Ireland, he says that, in Dublin, he found forty persons who professed to have obtained the blessing of entire sanctification within the last four months. Contrasting the work there with that in London, he writes:

“1. It is far greater in Dublin than in London, in proportion to the time and the number of the people. That society had above seven-and-twenty hundred members; this not above a fifth part of the number. Six months after the flame broke out in London, we had about thirty witnesses of the great salvation. In Dublin, there were above forty in less than four months.

“2. The work was more pure. In all this time, while they were mildly and tenderly treated, there were none of them headstrong or unadvisable; none that were wiser than their teachers; none who dreamed of being immortal or infallible, or incapable of temptation; in short, no whimsical, or enthusiastic persons; all were calm and sober minded. I know several of these were, in process of time, moved from their stedfastness. I am nothing surprised at this; it was no more than might be expected; I rather wonder, that more were not moved. Nor does this, in any degree, alter my judgment concerning the great work which God then wrought.”

In Limerick, the society was stirred up by Wesley to seek entire deliverance from sin; and, in a few weeks, ten women and thirteen men professed to obtain the blessing. This Wesley considered a greater work than even that at Dublin.

On reaching England, he found, at Chester, about a dozen who believed themselves sanctified, and whose lives did not contradict their profession. At Liverpool, where the work of sanctification had begun in the previous month of March, he spoke severally with those who said they had been fully saved from sin. They were fifty-one in number; twenty-one men, twenty-one women, and nine young people or children. In one of these, the change was wrought three weeks after she was justified; in three, one week; in one, five days; and in Sus. Lutwich, aged fourteen, two days only. At Macclesfield, he spoke to forty, one by one, who believed the blood of Christ had cleansed them from all unrighteousness. He writes: “Some of them said they received that blessing ten days, some seven, some four, some three days, after they found peace with God; and two of them the next day. What marvel, since one day is with God as a thousand years!” At Manchester, he spoke with sixty-three who “believed God had cleansed their hearts; to about sixty of whom he could find no reasonable objection.”

We give these facts as we find them. The reader will form his own opinion concerning them.

On August 10, Wesley met his conference, at Leeds, at which were present Lady Huntingdon, with the Revs. Messrs. C. Wesley, Whitefield, Romaine, Madan, and Venn.[489] Of the proceedings of this conference we know nothing. Wesley simply says: “We had great reason to praise God for His gracious presence from the beginning to the end.”

Wesley got back to London on the 19th of August, and, four days afterwards, set out for Cornwall. When he began service at Exeter, his congregation consisted of two women and one man. “This,” says he, “comes of omitting field preaching.” He himself went out of doors, and preached, on Southernhay green, to “a multitude of people; but a lewd, profane, drunken vagabond had so stirred up many of the baser sort, that there was much noise, hurry, and confusion.”

At Polperro, he had abundance of people; but “an old, grey-headed sinner bitterly cursed all the Methodists.”

At Truro, he expected some disturbance, as it was market day; but all was quiet. “Indeed,” says he, “both persecution and popular tumult seem to be forgotten in Cornwall.” Here resided a clergyman, Mr. C——, who was also a magistrate, but had not always been as peaceable as now. Some years before, a Methodist preacher, at his instigation, was arrested as a vagrant. To his astonishment, the vagrant turned out to be Wesley, an old college acquaintance at Oxford. His worship, however, proceeded, in severe language, to censure Wesley’s irregular proceedings; when, all at once, the floor of the room, which was filled with spectators, fell; the magistrate was hurled from his judicial chair; his wig flew off his head; the table, with its pens, ink, and paper, was overturned; while screams from all sides increased the general confusion. When order was restored, and the clerical functionary was once more seated, Wesley, with his characteristic coolness asked, “Well, sir, shall we proceed further in this business?” “No, no,” replied the magistrate, “go your way, go your way, Mr. Wesley; ‘sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’” After this affair, Wesley had no farther trouble from his reverend acquaintance, Mr. C——.[490]

Wesley spent a month in visiting the Cornish societies, and held the quarterly meeting of the stewards of the two circuits into which the county was divided. He writes concerning the eastern circuit: “What a change is wrought in one year’s time! That detestable practice of cheating the king is no more found in our societies. And since that accursed thing has been put away, the work of God has everywhere increased.”

It is a remarkable fact, however, that he mentions no instances of sanctification during his Cornish tour; but remarks: “The more I converse with believers in Cornwall, the more I am convinced, that they have sustained great loss for the want of hearing the doctrine of Christian perfection clearly and strongly enforced. I see, wherever this is not done, the believers grow dead and cold. Nor can this be prevented, out by keeping up in them an hourly expectation of being perfected in love. I say an hourly expectation; for to expect it at death, or some time hence, is much the same as not expecting it at all.”

Wesley returned to London on November 6, reading on the road “The Death of Abel,” concerning which he characteristically observes: “That manner of writing, in prose run mad, I cordially dislike; yet, with all that disadvantage, it is excellent in its kind, as much above most modern poems as it is below ‘Paradise Lost.’”

The rest of the year was spent in the metropolis, and its immediate vicinity. He buried the remains of Jane Cooper, “a pattern of all holiness, and of the wisdom which is from above”; he transcribed his answer to Warburton; he corrected his notes on the Apocalypse; at the desire of Maxfield, he baptized two foreigners, who professed to have been Turks; and he tried to control, though far too tenderly, the insane ravings of George Bell and the high professors.

We have already mentioned the Rev. Mr. Furley, a clergyman of the Church of England, as one of Wesley’s correspondents. Mr. Furley was the brother of Miss Furley, who, in 1763, became the wife of John Downes, one of Wesley’s first preachers. The brother and sister were now resident at Kippax, near Ferrybridge, in Yorkshire; and the following letters, addressed to them during the year 1762, will be read with interest.

“LONDON, _January 25, 1762_.

“DEAR SAMMY,—If you entangled yourself with no kind of promise to the archbishop, I doubt not but your ordination will prove a blessing. The care of a parish is, indeed, a weighty thing, which calls for much and earnest prayer. In managing it, you must needs follow your own conscience, whoever is pleased or displeased. Then, whether your success be less or more, you will, by-and-by, give up your account with joy.

“I myself hear frequently unscriptural, as well as irrational, expressions from those at whose feet I shall rejoice to be found in the day of the Lord Jesus; but blasphemy I never heard from one of them, either teacher or hearer. What is wide of Scripture or reason, I mildly reprove; and they usually receive it in love. Generally they are convinced; when I cannot convince, I can bear with them, and, indeed, rejoice at the grace of God which is in them.

“Sammy, beware of the impetuosity of your temper! It may easily lead you awry. It may make you evil affected to the excellent ones of the earth. Don’t expect propriety of speech from uneducated persons. The longer I live, the larger allowances I make for human infirmities. I exact more from myself, and less from others. Go thou and do likewise! I am, with love to Nancy,

“Your ever affectionate friend and brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.

“Take nothing, absolutely nothing, at second hand.”[491]

The next contains an invitation to Mr. Furley to meet Wesley at the conference about to be held in Leeds, and treats on, what was then the great topic of the time, Christian perfection.

“DUBLIN, _July 30, 1762_.

“DEAR SAMMY,—‘If I am unanswered, then I am unanswerable.’ Who can deny the consequence? By such an argument you carry all before you, and gain a complete victory. You put me in mind of the honest man, who cried out, while I was preaching, ‘_Quid est tibi nomen?_’ and, upon my giving no answer, called out vehemently, ‘I told you he did not understand Latin.’

“I do sometimes understand, though I do not answer. This is often the case between you and me. You love dispute, and I hate it. You have much time, and I have much work. _Non sumus ergo pares._ But if you will dispute the point with Nicholas Norton, he is your match. He has both leisure and love for the work.

“For me, I shall only once more state the case. There are forty or fifty people, who declare (and I can take their word, for I know them well), each for himself, ‘God has enabled me to rejoice evermore, and to pray and give thanks without ceasing. I feel no pride, no anger, no desire, no unbelief, but pure love alone.’ I ask, ‘Do you then believe you have no further need of Christ, or His atoning blood?’ Every one answers, ‘I never felt my want of Christ so deeply as I do now.’ But you think: ‘They cannot want the merit of His death, if they are saved from sin.’ They think otherwise. They know and feel the contrary, whether they can _explain_ it, or no. There is not one, either in this city, or in this kingdom, who does not agree in this.

“Here is a plain fact. You may dispute, reason, cavil about it, just as long as you please. Meantime, I know, by all manner of proof, that these are the happiest and holiest people in the kingdom. Their light shines before men. They have the mind that was in Christ, and walk as Christ also walked. And shall I cease to rejoice over these holy, happy men, because they mistake in their judgment? If they do, I would to God you and I and all mankind were under the same mistake; provided we had the same faith, the same love, and the same inward and outward holiness!

“I am, dear Sammy, yours affectionately,

“JOHN WESLEY.

“Will you not meet us at Leeds on the 10th of August?”[492]

The next two letters were both written on the same day: the first being addressed to Mr. Furley, the second to his sister.

“ST. IVES, _September 15, 1762_.

“DEAR SIR,—I have entirely lost my taste for controversy. I have lost my readiness in disputing; and I take this to be a providential discharge from it. All I can now do, with a clear conscience, is, not to enter into a formal controversy about the new birth, or justification by faith, any more than Christian perfection, but simply to declare my judgment; and to explain myself as clearly as I can upon any difficulty that may arise out of it.

“I still say, and without any self contradiction, I know no persons living, who are so deeply conscious of their needing Christ, both as prophet, priest, and king, as those who believe themselves, and whom I believe, to be cleansed from all sin; I mean, from all pride, anger, evil desire, idolatry, and unbelief. These very persons feel more than ever their own ignorance, littleness of grace, coming short of the full mind that was in Christ, and walking less accurately than they might have done after their Divine Pattern; are more convinced of the insufficiency of all they are, have, or do, to bear the eye of God without a Mediator.

“If Mr. M—— or you say, ‘that coming short is sin’; be it so, I contend not. But still I say, ‘These are they whom I believe to be scripturally perfect.’ If in saying this, I have ‘fully given up the point,’ what would you have more? Is it not enough that I leave you to ‘boast your superior power against the little, weak shifts of baffled error?’ ‘Canst thou not be content,’ as the quaker said, ‘to lay J. W. on his back, but thou must tread his guts out?’

“O let you and I go on to perfection! God grant we may so run as to attain!

“I am your affectionate friend and brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[493]

“ST. IVES, _September 15, 1762_.

“MY DEAR SISTER,—Certainly sanctification, in the proper sense, is ‘an instantaneous deliverance from all sin’; and includes ‘an instantaneous power, then given, always to cleave to God.’ Yet this sanctification (at least in the lower degrees) does not include a power never to think a useless thought, nor ever speak a useless word. I myself believe, that such a perfection is inconsistent with living in a corruptible body; for this makes it impossible ‘always to think right.’ While we breathe, we shall, more or less, mistake. If, therefore, Christian perfection implies this, we must not expect it till after death.

“I want you to be all love. This is the perfection I believe and teach. And this perfection is consistent with a thousand nervous disorders, which that high strained perfection is not. Indeed, my judgment is that, in this case particularly, to overdo is to undo; and, that to set perfection too high (so high as no man that we ever heard or read of attained) is the most effectual, because unsuspected, way of driving it out of the world. Take care you are not hurt by anything in the ‘Short Hymns,’ contrary to the doctrines you have long received. Peace be with your spirit!

“I am your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[494]

We add one more letter, addressed to Mr. Furley, on this momentous subject.

“BRISTOL, _October 13, 1762_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—As to this particular question, I believe I am able to answer every objection which can be made; but I am not able to do it without expending much time, which may be better employed. For this reason, I am persuaded it is so far from being my duty to enter into a formal controversy about it, that it would be a wilful sin; it would be employing my short residue of life in a less profitable way than it may be employed.

“The proposition which I hold is this: A person may be cleansed from all _sinful tempers_, and yet need the atoning blood. For what? For negligences and ignorances; for both words and actions, as well as omissions, which are, in a sense, transgressions of the perfect law. And I believe no one is clear of these, till he lays down this corruptible body.

“Now, Sammy, dropping the point of contradiction, tell me simply what you would have more. Do you believe, that evil tempers remain till death? All, or some? If some only, which? I love truth wherever I find it; so if you can help me to a little more of it, you will oblige,

“Dear Sammy, yours, etc.,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[495]

Two other letters, belonging to this period, will be welcome. Both refer to the excitement in London concerning Christian perfection, and both were addressed to his brother Charles.

“LONDON, _December 11, 1762_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—For eighteen or twenty days, I have heard with both ears, but rarely opened my mouth. I think I now understand the affair, at least as well as any person in England.

“The sum is this: 1. The meeting in Beech Lane, before I came to town, was like a bear garden; full of noise, brawling, cursing, swearing, blasphemy, and confusion. 2. Those who prayed were partly the occasion of this, by their horrid screaming, and unscriptural, enthusiastic expressions. 3. Being determined either to mend them or end them, I removed the meeting to the Foundery. 4. Immediately, the noise, brawling, cursing, swearing, blasphemy, and confusion ceased. 5. There was less and less screaming, and less unscriptural and enthusiastic language. 6. Examining the society, I found about threescore persons who had been convinced of sin, and near fourscore who were justified, at those meetings. So that, on the whole, they have done some hurt, and much good. I trust, they will now do more good, and no hurt at all. Seven persons had left the society on this account; but four of them are come back already.

“I bought the ground before Kingswood school of Margaret Ward, and paid for it with my own money. Certainly, therefore, I have a right to employ it as I please. What can any reasonable man say to the contrary?

“I have answered the bishop, and had advice upon my answer. If the devil owes him a shame, he will reply. He is a man of sense; but I verily think he does not understand Greek! Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[496]

“LONDON, _December 23, 1762_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—This is too critical a time for me to be out of London.

“I believe several in London have imagined themselves saved from sin ‘upon the word of others’; and these are easily known. For that work does not stand; such imaginations soon vanish away. Some of these, and two or three others, are still wild. But the matter does not stick here. I could play with all these, if Thomas Maxfield were right. He is _mali caput et fons_; so inimitably wrong headed, and so absolutely unconvincible; and yet (what is exceeding strange) God continues to bless his labours.

“My kind love to Sally. I shall soon try your patience with a long letter. Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[497]

The bishop, referred to in one of the above letters, was Warburton, bishop of Gloucester; but, as Wesley’s answer was not published till the beginning of 1763, we defer any further notice of this furious episcopal onslaught upon Wesley and his friends.

Other publications, however, must be mentioned. The following, was an octavo shilling pamphlet, which originated in a dispute in the _London Chronicle_; “Presbyters and Deacons not commissioned to preach without the Bishop’s Allowance. A Discourse addressed to a certain Methodist Clergyman.” The title suggests the substance of this bigoted performance.

Another harmless missile, hurled at the poor Methodists, was by the renowned translator of Plutarch’s Lives, now a young curate in the county of Essex: “Letters on Religious Retirement, Melancholy, and Enthusiasm. By John Langhorne.” 8vo, 87 pages. Dedicated to the Bishop of Gloucester. The worst thing said of Methodism is, that, though averse to popery, it holds one of its worst doctrines, namely; a pretence to plenary inspiration; and, that all the difference between the two systems is that, instead of one pope, the Methodists “find a thousand in their ignorant teachers, whom they consider as so many gods, and whose crude and undigested preachments they regard as oracles.”

A third, and infinitely worse production, was a small half-crown octavo, with the title, “A plain and easy Road to the Land of Bliss; a Turnpike set up by Mr. Orator.” The _Monthly Review_ (no friend to Methodism) remarks concerning this miserable book: “It is a dull and indecent satire on the Methodists, in imitation, as its author imagines, of the celebrated Tale of a Tub, which it resembles in no respect whatever. It is not only contemptible for its stupidity; but in itself: is a filthy, obscene thing, for which its writer ought to be washed in a horsepond.”[498]

A fourth was the following: “A Specimen of Preaching, as practised, among the People, called Methodists. By J. Helme.” A number of phrases, said to be used by the Methodists, are here strung together, in the shape of a sermon, founded upon the text, “How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?” Helme expresses, the opinion, that the jesuits and other emissaries of the Church of Rome are at the bottom of the Methodist “schemes of nonsense and delusion”; and that “the manner in which the fanatics take upon themselves to treat the sublime truths of Christianity cannot fail to shock both the ear and the understanding of all who make any pretensions to religion or common sense.”[499]

Another hostile publication, issued in 1762, was a miscellaneous octavo volume, of 380 pages, entitled, “Various Tracts by the Rev. James Penn, A.B., under Grammar Master of Christ’s Hospital, and Lecturer of the united parishes of St. Ann and Agnes, and St. John Zachary, Aldersgate.” The reverend pedagogue tells his readers, that “Methodism, which arose from a slender beginning, is branched out into various sects, and has met with such success as to become alarming. It had its origin partly from the neglect of the superior clergy of the duties of their function; and this neglect continued is its great support. The clergy have talked, they have wrote, they have preached against the Methodists and their tenets, with justice indeed, but not without acrimony; and this has rendered their design abortive, and not a little served the cause of their adversaries. Unless some expedient is found to check the progress of the enthusiasm, it will soon become formidable, and have its spacious tabernacles in every city and county, as well as in London and Middlesex. It has encouraged a great number of laymen, many of whom are the refuse of the people, or the meanest of mechanics, to assume the ministerial office, and bellow out, in the lanes and alleys of the city, their wild notions, in a language rude, irrational, unintelligible. In their places of worship, here sits melancholy, there despair. Sighs and groans are heard from one corner; frightful and hideous looks are seen at another. The words of some speak assurance of their salvation, and an uncommon familiarity with their Maker; whilst others are overwhelmed with a horrible dread of damnation.”

The reader has had enough of the Rev. James Penn; but we add another extract, which will convey an idea of the reverend author’s principles. “A man’s character is no more to be suspected by his being at a playhouse, than at a church. All are not saints, who frequent the latter; nor are all to be accounted sinners, who go to the former. Players are no more to be condemned, because some of the audience depart unimproved, than the preacher censured, if some of his congregation should go away unedified.” In the list of subscribers to Mr. Penn’s octavo volume, the names of fifty clergymen are given.

Wesley’s works, published in 1762, were as follows.

1. “Cautions and Directions given to the greatest Professors in the Methodist Societies.” These were afterwards embodied in the “Plain Account of Christian Perfection.”

2. “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. Horne: occasioned by his late Sermon preached before the University of Oxford.” 8vo, 22 pages.

This was a pamphlet, principally on the subject of justification by faith and works. Dr. Horne was now a young man of thirty-two years of age; a thorough Hutchinsonian; and a considerable author. He subsequently became chaplain to George III.; vice chancellor of Oxford; dean of Canterbury; and, in 1790, bishop of Norwich. He was learned, pious, and benevolent; and will always be remembered for his “Commentary on the Book of Psalms.” Wesley’s letter is exceedingly respectful; as indeed it ought to be. He writes: “If I have said anything offensive, anything that implies the least degree of anger or disrespect, it was entirely foreign to my intention. Nor indeed have I any provocation. I have no room to be angry at your maintaining what you believe to be the truth of the gospel: even though I might wish you had omitted a few expressions.”

3. Another of Wesley’s publications was a small tract, entitled: “A Blow at the Root; or Christ stabbed in the House of his Friends.” 12mo, 11 pages. The title resembles the title of another pamphlet published “By an impartial Hand” some years previous,—“A Blow at the Root: or an attempt to prove that no time ever was, or very probably ever will be, so proper and convenient as the present, for introducing a further Reformation into our National Church, Universities, and Schools. Most humbly dedicated to his royal highness, William Duke of Cumberland.” The object of Wesley’s tract, however, was widely different from the object of this. His intention was to refute a heresy recently sprung up, “that Christ had _done_, as well as suffered, _all_: that _His righteousness_ being imputed to _us_, we need none of _our own_: that, seeing there was so much righteousness and holiness _in Him_, there needs no more _in us_; that, to think we have any, or to desire to seek any, is to renounce Christ: that, from the beginning to the end of salvation, all is _in Christ_, nothing _in man_; and that those who teach otherwise are _legal preachers_, and know nothing of the _gospel_.”

4. This was followed by another on the same subject, with the title, “Thoughts on the Imputed Righteousness of Christ,” 12mo, 11 pages. The cause of this publication was the issue of a tract, in the name of Wesley, not one word of which was his, and which, as will be seen hereafter, he found it necessary to repudiate in 1763.

This was not much for a man like Wesley to produce; but it must be remembered, that, owing to his brother’s illness, he was now single handed; and that, besides being “in journeyings often, and in perils; in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst,” there came upon him preeminently, and almost exclusively, “the care of all the churches.”

1763.

[Sidenote: 1763 Age 60]

In almost every successive year, the Methodist movement devolved more and more on Wesley. His brother was in feeble health, had an increasing family, and employed himself almost exclusively in writing hymns, and in preaching to the Methodists of London and of Bristol. Whitefield’s asthma had become chronic, and well-nigh disabled him. He spent the first six months of 1763 chiefly in the north of England and in Scotland; but, for six weeks of that period, he was entirely silent; and during the remainder, his preaching was often intermitted, and in no instance was more frequent than once a day. Three months were occupied with his voyage to America, where he landed about the beginning of September, and speaks of himself as “wearied and almost worn out”; and where he was not able to preach more than twice or thrice a week. Comparatively speaking, his work was already done; though still preaching, it was as an invalid. For the last five and twenty years, it would be difficult to say whether Whitefield or Wesley, simply considered as evangelists, had been in labours more abundant. For twenty-eight years after this, Wesley was almost the only itinerant clergyman living. Grimshaw was dead; Whitefield, to a great extent, was disabled, and, as early as the year 1770, was removed to the rest of heaven; Charles Wesley had already become a settled minister; Berridge’s itinerancy was confined to his own comparatively small circuit, and to his visits to the metropolis; Romaine, Venn, Rowland Hill, and others, had pastoral charges, which necessarily prevented them leaving home, as often as they wished. Wesley, and Wesley only, was unfettered. He was without a church, and really without a home. His wife made him miserable, and he had no children to demand his time. His health was as vigorous as ever, and his heart as warm; and hence, while all his old clerical friends either died, or were disabled, or otherwise were obliged to relinquish the itinerant ministry, he and he alone ended as he first began; and, from 1735 to 1791, a period of five and fifty years, lived not the enviable life of a settled pastor, but the homeless life of a wandering evangelist, and devoted his health, energies, and talents to a work resembling his who said, “I am a debtor both to the Greeks, and to the barbarians”; “so that from Jerusalem, and round about unto Illyricum, I have fully preached the gospel of Christ.”

At the commencement of 1763, Wesley was in the midst of the fanatical troubles, chiefly created by Bell and Maxfield. The following letters refer to these affairs. They were all published in the _London Chronicle_.

“SOUTHWARK, _January 6, 1763_.

“SIR,—One Bell, said to be a Lifeguardsman, holds forth to an assembly, near Hanover Square. He is supposed to belong to the Methodists; but he advances things which many Methodists abhor. Nevertheless, his delusions spread. Many of his followers think themselves perfect, and declare they shall never die, ‘because,’ as they say, ‘our dear Lord, who certainly will come a second time, is at the door, and we shall see Him come.’

“God only knows where this folly of Mr. Bell’s may end, if not soon stopped. Soon after the Reformation in Germany, many sprung up who held that they were perfect; they despised authority, and declared Christ was at the door (as Mr. Bell does) to destroy the world. Many of them, men and women, worshipped naked, and appeared so in the streets of Amsterdam and elsewhere, declaring that, as clothes came in only in consequence of sin, so they being free from sin were to wear none.

“IMPARTIALITY.”[500]

“WINDMILL HILL, _January 7, 1763_.

“SIR,—When I returned to London two or three months ago, I received various accounts of some meetings for prayer, which had lately been held by Mr. Bell and a few others. Some highly applauded them; others utterly condemned; some affirmed they had done much good; others that they had done much hurt. This convinced me, that it was requisite to proceed with caution, and to do nothing rashly. The first point was to form my own judgment, and that upon the fullest evidence. To this end I first talked with Mr. Bell himself, whom I knew to be an honest, well meaning man. Next, I told him they were at liberty, for a few times, to meet under my roof. They did so, both in the society room at the Foundery, and in the chapel at West Street. By this means, I had an opportunity of hearing them myself, which I did at both places. I was present also, at the next meeting after that, which is mentioned by Mr. Dodd and Mr. Thompson, in the _Public Ledger_. The same things which they blame I blame also; and so I told Mr. Bell the same evening. I was in hopes they would be done away, which occasioned my waiting till this time. But now, having lost that hope, I have given orders that they shall meet under my roof no more.

“JOHN WESLEY.”[501]

“_February 9, 1763._

“SIR,—I take this opportunity of informing all whom it may concern—1. That Mr. Bell is not a member of our society; 2. That I do not believe either the end of the world, or any signal calamity, will be on the 28th instant; and 3. That not one in fifty, perhaps not one in five hundred, of the people called Methodists, believe any more than I do, either this or any other of his prophecies.

“I am, etc.,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[502]

Christian perfection, for a season, took the place of Church separation. The Methodists, for years past, had been on the point of declaring themselves Dissenters; now they were not unlikely to become fanatics. From the first, Wesley had taught the doctrine of Christian perfection; but now some of Wesley’s followers were in danger of attaching to that doctrine whims which Wesley never sanctioned. Besides, is there not truth in the statement of Dr. Whitehead, a man well qualified to judge: “The doctrine of _perfection_, or _perfect_ love, was undoubtedly taught among the Methodists from the beginning; but the _manner_ in which it was _now_ preached, pressing the people to expect what was called the destruction of the _root_ of sin, in one moment, was most certainly _new_; I can find no trace of it before the period at which I have fixed its introduction”?[503]

Wesley’s annoyance was great, and his forbearance with the London fanatics exposed him to the censure of his friends. John Downes, in a letter to Joseph Cownley, wrote: “I consider the follies and extravagance of the witnesses as the devices of Satan, to cast a blemish upon a real work of God. The more I converse with the solid ones, the more I long to experience what they do. It is a state worthy of a Christian. As to the follies of the enthusiasts, Mr. Charles hears every week less or more. Why his brother suffers them we cannot tell. He threatens, but cannot find in his heart to put in execution. The consequence is, the talk of all the town, and entertainment for the newspapers.”[504]

Charles Wesley, in a letter dated February 1, 1763, remarks: “Sad havoc Satan has made of the flock. What they will do after my brother’s departure, I leave to the Lord; for I dare not think of it. I gave warning four years ago of the flood of enthusiasm which has now overflowed us; and of the sect of ranters that should arise out of the witnesses. My last hymns are a further standing testimony. Tell Christopher Hopper, I reverence him for his stand against the torrent.”[505]

This was well, so far as it went; but it would have been considerably better, if Charles Wesley had joined with his warnings and vaticinations his active cooperation to stem the torrent of which he had prophesied. Wesley wrote to him on February 8, saying: “The sooner you could be here the better; for the mask is thrown off. George Bell, John Dixon, Joseph Calvert, Benjamin Briggs, etc., etc., have quitted the society, and renounced all fellowship with us. I wrote to Thomas” (Maxfield), “but was not favoured with an answer. This morning I wrote a second time, and received an answer indeed! The substance is, ‘You take too much upon you.’”[506]

Charles evidently declined to come to his brother’s help; hence the following extracts from two other letters, dated respectively February 26 and March 6, 1763:

“I perceive, _verba fiunt mortuo_; so I say no more about your coming to London. Here stand I; and I shall stand, with or without human help, if God is with us. That story of Thomas Maxfield is not true. But I doubt more is true than is good. He is a most incomprehensible creature. I cannot convince him, that separation is any evil; or, that speaking in the name of God, when God has not spoken, is any more than an innocent mistake. I know not what to say to him, or do with him. He is really _mali caput et fons_.”[507]

A fortnight after this, Wesley wrote as follows to the Countess of Huntingdon.

“_March 20, 1763._

“MY LADY,—By the mercy of God, I am still alive, and following the work to which He has called me, although without any help, even in the most trying times, from those of whom I might have expected it. Their voice seemed to be rather, ‘_Down with him, down with him; even to the ground._’ I mean (for I use no ceremony or circumlocution) Mr. Madan, Mr. Haweis, Mr. Berridge, and (I am sorry to say it) Mr. Whitefield. Only Mr. Romaine has shown a truly sympathising spirit, and acted the part of a brother. As to the prophecies of these poor wild men, George Bell and half-a-dozen more, I am not a jot more accountable for them than Mr. Whitefield is, having never countenanced them in any degree, but opposed them from the moment I heard them; neither have these extravagances any foundation in any doctrine which I teach. The loving God with all our heart, soul, and strength, and the loving all men as Christ loved us, is, and ever was, for these thirty years, the sum of what I deliver, as pure religion and undefiled. However, if I am bereaved of my children, I am bereaved! The will of the Lord be done!

‘Poor and helpless as I am, Thou dost for my vileness care, Thou hast called me by Thy name, Thou dost all my burdens bear.’ “I am, your ladyship’s servant for Christ’s sake,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[508]

Wesley thought he had one friend left, though only one, in Mr. Romaine; but in this he was mistaken. Hence the following, written within a week after the above.

“LAMBETH, _March 26, 1763_.

“MADAM,—Thanks to your ladyship for your kind remembrance of me in your last. Enclosed is poor Mr. John Wesley’s letter. The contents of it, as far as I am concerned, surprised me; for no one has spoken more freely of what is now passing among the people than myself. Indeed, I have not preached so much as others whose names he mentions, nor could I. My subject is one, and I dare not vary from it. A perfection out of Christ is with me all rank pride and damnable sin. Man cannot be laid too low; nor Christ set too high. I would therefore always aim, as good brother Grimshaw expresses it, to get the old gentleman down, and keep him down; and then Christ reigns like Himself, when He is _all_, and man is nothing.

“I pity Mr. John from my heart. His societies are in great confusion; and the point, which brought them into the wilderness of rant and madness, is still insisted on as much as ever. I fear the end of this delusion. As the late alarming providence has not had its proper effect, and _perfection_ is still the cry, God will certainly give them up to some more dreadful thing. May their eyes be opened before it is too late!

“Things are not here as at Brighton. The Foundery, the Tabernacle, the Lock, the Meeting, yea, St. Dunstan’s, has each its party, and brotherly love is almost lost in our disputes. Thank God, I am out of them.

“My wife joins me in duty and affection to your ladyship, and we are your faithful servants in our most dear and eternally precious Jesus,

“W. ROMAINE.”[509]

Such, in the midst of his London troubles, was Wesley’s want of sympathy and help from those whom he had been accustomed to regard as friends. Fletcher of Madeley continued faithful, but the duties of his distant vicarage were a bar to his rendering assistance in the metropolis. As early as November 22, 1762, he wrote Charles Wesley:[510] “Many of our brethren are overshooting sober Christianity in London. Oh that I could stand in the gap! Oh that I could, by sacrificing myself, shut this immense abyss of enthusiasm, which opens its mouth among us! The corruption of the best things is always the worst of corruptions.”

In another letter, dated September 9, 1763, Fletcher writes: “If Mr. Maxfield returns, the Lord may correct his errors, and give him so to insist on the fruits of faith as to prevent antinomianism. I believe him sincere; and, though obstinate and suspicious, I am persuaded he has a true desire to know the will, and live the life of God. I reply in the same words you quoted to me in one of your letters: ‘Don’t be afraid of a wreck, for Jesus is in the ship.’ After the most violent storm, the Lord will, perhaps all at once, bring our ship into the desired haven.”[511]

Fletcher thoroughly understood Wesley’s doctrines; but it is clear that Romaine did not. When and where did Wesley preach “a perfection out of Christ”? What was Romaine’s meaning when he employed that expression? Who can tell? Could Romaine himself? We greatly doubt it. Wesley, in the plainest language, had said all he had to say, both in the former and in the Farther Thoughts on Christian Perfection. Had Romaine read these tracts? If he had, he ought to have known that they contained not a single syllable concerning any “_perfection out of Christ_”; if he had not, he was culpable in branding a doctrine, the meaning of which he had yet to learn. In a letter to Mrs. Maitland, dated May 12, 1763, Wesley declares, that he can say nothing on the subject of Christian perfection but what he has said already. Nevertheless, at her request, he is willing to add a few words more. He proceeds:—

“As to the word _perfection_, it is scriptural. Therefore, neither you nor I can in conscience object to it, unless we would send the Holy Ghost to school, and teach Him to speak, who made the tongue.

“By _Christian_ perfection I mean, (as I have said again and again,) the so loving God and our neighbour, as to ‘rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks.’ He that experiences this is scripturally perfect. And if you do not, yet you may experience it; you surely will, if you follow hard after it, for the Scripture cannot be broken.

“What then does their arguing prove, who object against Christian perfection? Absolute or infallible perfection, I never contended for; sinless perfection I do not contend for, seeing it is not scriptural. A perfection such as enables a person to fulfil the whole law, and so need not the merits of Christ, I do not acknowledge. I do now, and always did protest against it.

“But is there no sin in those who are perfect in love? I believe not; but, be that as it may, they feel none,—no temper contrary to pure love, while they rejoice, pray, and give thanks continually. Whether sin is suspended, or extinguished, I will not dispute. It is enough, that they feel nothing but love. This you allow we should daily press after; and this is all I contend for.”[512]

In 1759, Wesley published his “Thoughts on Christian Perfection”; and now he issued another 12mo tract of thirty-nine pages, entitled “Farther Thoughts upon Christian Perfection,” in which he says: “In most particulars, I think now as I did then; in some I do not. My present thoughts I now offer to your consideration; being still open to further conviction; and willing, I trust, to be taught of God, by whatever instrument He shall choose.” He proceeds to show, that the highest degree of sanctification attainable on earth will not save a man from “unavoidable defect of understanding,” and from “mistakes in many things”; and that “these mistakes will frequently occasion something wrong, both in our tempers, and words, and actions.” For this reason, “the holiest of men still need Christ, as their prophet, king, and priest.” He maintains, that the sanctified have a direct, as well as an indirect, witness of their sanctification; and that “_some_, though not all, may have a testimony from the Spirit” of their final perseverance. He admits that, in most instances, those who are “justified _gradually_ die to sin and grow in grace, till at, or perhaps a little before death, God perfects them in love”; but, in some instances, “God cuts short His work. He does the work of many years in a few weeks: perhaps in a week, a day, an hour.” Concerning those in London, who professed to have attained to Christian perfection, he says: “there is a wide difference between some of them and others.” He adds: “I think most of them, with whom I have spoken, have much faith, love, joy, and peace. Some of these, I believe, are renewed in love, and have the _direct_ witness of it; and they manifest the _fruit_ of it in all their words and actions. But some, who have much love, peace, and joy, have not the direct witness; and others, who think they have, are manifestly wanting in the fruit. How many I will not say: perhaps one in ten, perhaps more or fewer. _Some_ are undeniably wanting in _longsuffering_; some in _gentleness_; some in _goodness_; some in _fidelity_; some in _meekness_; and some in _temperance_.” To these last mentioned he says: “Let us not fight about words; in the thing we clearly agree. You have not what I call _perfection_. If others will call it so, they may.”

After laying it down, that “those who are perfect may grow in grace, not only while they are in the body, but to all eternity,” he proceeds to say: “formerly, we thought, one saved from sin could not fall. Now, we know the contrary. We are surrounded with instances of those, who lately experienced all that I mean by perfection. They had both the fruit of the Spirit and the witness; but they have now lost both. There is no such height of holiness as it is impossible to fall from. If there be any that _cannot fall_, this wholly depends on the promise and faithfulness of God.”

His advices to those who professed perfection are—

“1. Watch and pray continually against pride. Always remember, _much grace_ does not imply _much light_. These do not always go together. Give not place to the dangerous mistake that none can teach _you_, but those that are themselves saved from sin. 2. Beware of that daughter of pride, enthusiasm. Do not hastily ascribe things to God. Do not easily suppose dreams, voices, impressions, visions, or revelations to be from God. They may be from Him. They may be from nature. They may be from the devil. Try all things by the written word, and let all bow down before it. 3. Beware of antinomianism, making void the law, or any part of it, through faith. Do not put your head on the hole of a cockatrice’s den. Beware of Moravianism, the most refined antinomianism that ever was under the sun, producing the grossest libertinism, and most flagrant breach of every moral precept, such as could only have sprung from the abuse of true Christian experience. Beware of Moravian bigotry, stillness, self indulgence, censoriousness, and solifidianism. 4. Beware of sins of omission. Lose no opportunity of doing good in any kind. Give no place to indolence. Lose no shred of time. Do not talk much; neither long at a time: few can converse profitably above an hour. Keep at the utmost distance from pious chit-chat, from religious gossiping. 5. Beware of desiring anything but God. Admit no desire of pleasing food, or of any pleasure of sense; no desire of pleasing the eye, or the imagination, by anything grand, or new, or beautiful; no desire of money, of praise, or esteem; of happiness in _any creature_. 6. Beware of schism, of making a rent in the church of Christ. Do not extol, or run down, any preacher. Never omit meeting your class or band; never absent yourself from any public meeting. These are the very sinews of our society. Beware of impatience of contradiction, of touchiness, of testiness. Beware of tempting others to separate from _you_. Be particularly careful in speaking of yourself. Avoid all magnificent, pompous words. 7. Be exemplary in all things; particularly in outward things, as in dress; in little things; in laying out your money, avoiding every needless expense; in deep, steady seriousness; and in the solidity and usefulness of all your conversation.”

Such are some of the salient points in Wesley’s “Farther Thoughts upon Christian Perfection.” Opinions respecting them will vary; but all will admit the sincerity and intense earnestness of the man who wrote them.

Let us now track his footsteps in 1763. With the exception of a brief visit to Norwich, and another to Bristol, the first four months were spent in London and its vicinity, during which two or three incidents occurred, besides the perfectionist agitation, that are worth mentioning.

One was the death of Mrs. Charity Perronet, the good vicar of Shoreham’s wife, whom Wesley buried on February 11.

Another was an effort to relieve the sufferings of the London poor. The year opened with one of the severest frosts on record. The Thames was so covered with ice, that passengers and carriages crossed from one shore to the other; and booths were erected, and fairs held, on the river’s ice-glazed surface. Navigation was entirely stopped, and many thousands of watermen, with their families, were plunged into extreme distress. In some places, the ice was measured, and found to be six feet thick. Sea gulls came up as high as London Bridge; and other birds, in great numbers, were driven from their usual haunts, and were seen in the streets of the metropolis. Many persons were frozen to death; and large bodies of famished men wandered throughout the capital, begging bread and clothes.[513] Wesley was not the man to witness such suffering without endeavouring to relieve it. “Great numbers,” says _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, “of poor people had pease pottage and barley broth given them at the Foundery, at the expense of Mr. Wesley; and a collection was made, in the same place of worship, for further supplying the necessities of the destitute, at which upwards of £100 was contributed.”[514] Considering the value of money at that period, this was not amiss for the poor Foundery Methodists.

A third incident must be mentioned. We have just seen Wesley trying to relieve misery; we shall now see him endeavouring to put an end to vice. The Society for the Reformation of Manners was first instituted about the year 1677.[515] From 1730 to 1757, the society was defunct. In the last mentioned year, and perhaps as one of the results of Methodism, it was revived. The approbation of the lord mayor of London, and of the court of aldermen, was obtained. Thousands of books of instruction were sent to parish officers and parish constables, to remind them of their duty. The laws against immorality were again enforced. Streets, and fields, and public houses were swept of their notorious offenders. In five years, about ten thousand persons were brought to justice, chiefly for gambling, swearing, sabbath breaking, lewdness, and selling obscene engravings.

There can be little doubt that Wesley was connected with the revival of this useful association. At all events, in 1763, when the society consisted of one hundred and sixty members, nearly half of that number were Methodists.[516] On January 30, the society met at Wesley’s chapel, in West Street, Seven Dials; where he preached, before its members, the annual sermon, taking as his text the very scripture which had been selected by his father, when performing the same service sixty-five years before: “Who will rise up with me against the wicked?” Wesley attached considerable importance to this sermon, as is seen from the fact, that he retired to Lewisham to compose and write it, and that it was immediately published in an octavo pamphlet of thirty pages. Three years afterwards, the society, a second time, ceased to be; chiefly through an action instituted against it in the King’s Bench, where an adverse verdict was obtained, by the false swearing of a man whom the society subsequently convicted of wilful perjury. Still the death blow to the society was struck. Wesley writes: “They could never recover the expense of that suit. Lord, how long shall the ungodly triumph?”

In the early part of the year 1763, a shameful fraud was attempted upon Wesley, and is referred to in the following letter, published in the _London Chronicle_.

“_April 5, 1763._

“SIR,—Some time since, I heard a man in the street bawling, ‘The Scripture Doctrine of Imputed Righteousness, asserted and maintained by the Rev. John Wesley.’ I was a little surprised, not having published anything on the head; and more so when, upon reading it over, I found not one line of it was mine, though I remembered to have _read_ something like it. Soon after, to show what I really do maintain, I published ‘Thoughts on the Imputed Righteousness of Christ’: mentioning therein that ‘pious fraud,’ which constrained me so to do.

“The modest author of the former publication now prints a second edition of it, and faces me down before all the world, yea, and proves, that it is mine.

“Would you not wonder, by what argument? Oh, the plainest in the world. ‘There is not,’ says he, ‘the least fraud in the publication, nor imposition on Mr. Wesley; for the words are transcribed from the ninth and tenth volumes of his Christian Library.’ But the Christian Library is not Mr. Wesley’s writing; it is ‘Extracts from and Abridgments of’ other writers; the subject of which I highly approve, but I will not be accountable for every expression. Much less will I _father_ eight pages of I know not what, which a shameless man has picked out of that work, tacked together in the manner he thought good, and then published in my name. He puts me in mind of what occurred some years since. A man was stretching his throat near Moorfields, and screaming out: ‘A full and true Account of the Death of the Rev. George Whitefield.’ One took hold of him, and said: ‘Sirrah! what do you mean? Mr. Whitefield is yonder before you.’ He shrugged up his shoulders, and said: ‘Why, sir, an honest man must do something to turn a penny.’

“I am, sir, your humble servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[517]

On the 16th of May, two months later than usual, Wesley left London for the north.[518] By travelling in postchaises, he reached Newcastle in three days, and in three more came to Edinburgh, where he had an interview with his old friend Whitefield. He writes: “Humanly speaking, he is worn out; but we have to do with Him who hath all power in heaven and earth.”

At Edinburgh, the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland were holding their annual conference, and many of the ministers, nobility, and gentry flocked together to hear Wesley preach in the High School yard, at seven a.m. He says: “I spake as plain as ever I did in my life. But I never knew any in Scotland offended at plain dealing. In this respect, the north Britons are a pattern to all mankind.”

One of Wesley’s hearers, on this occasion, was Lady Frances Gardiner, the widow of the renowned Colonel Gardiner, who fell at the battle of Preston Pans. A month afterwards, this Christian lady wrote to him, congratulating him on sending Mr. Hanby and Mr. Roberts to Edinburgh, where their labours had been greatly blessed; and then adding: “I have never, I own, been at the preaching house in a morning yet, as they preach so early; but I ventured to the High School yard the morning you left Edinburgh; and it pleased God, even after I got home, to follow part of your sermon with a blessing to me.”[519]

A year later, Wesley formed an acquaintance, at Edinburgh, with Lady Maxwell, who about the year 1761 had been left a widow, at nineteen years of age. She now became a Methodist; and, in 1770, for the purpose of affording a Christian education to poor children, she established a school in Edinburgh, which she liberally sustained for forty years; and, at her death, made provision for its existence to the end of time.[520] In the same year, Wesley was introduced to Lady Glenorchy, who also, a few months afterwards, became a widow at the age of thirty-one, and opened a chapel, which had been a popish church, for the supply of which Wesley obtained the services of the Rev. Richard de Courcy; the agreement being that, while this young minister of the Church of England should take the principal duties of the chapel, one night in the week should be set apart for the preaching of Wesley’s itinerants; and that liberty should be given to any presbyterian clergyman, who might be willing occasionally to officiate.[521] The plan was utopian, and was soon a failure.

Of the Methodist chapel which, during the year 1763, was built in Edinburgh,[522] we know nothing; but, in 1788, a second was erected, under the auspices of Zechariah Yewdall,[523] which Valentine Ward described as “a dirty, damp, dark, dangerous hole, seating six hundred people;[524] and which, twenty-seven years afterwards, was bought by the Edinburgh commissioners, for the sum of £1900, in order to build the bridge from Shakespeare Square to Calton Hill.[525]

During his present stay in Scotland, Wesley also preached at Dunbar, where, eleven years before, a company of English dragoons held a prayer-meeting, at which Andrew Affleck was converted; became a member of the Methodist society, which was then formed; and, for fifty-nine years, lived the life of an earnest Christian, and then expired, saying, “Dying is hard work, but the grace of God is sufficient for me.”[526]

Wesley returned to Newcastle on the 1st of June, preaching at Alnwick and Morpeth on his way. In a few days, he proceeded to Barnard castle, where there was a remarkable revival of religion. A few months before, the societies throughout “the dales,” or Barnard castle circuit, had been exceeding lifeless. Samuel Meggot recommended them to observe every Friday with fasting and prayer. The result has just been stated. Twenty in Barnard castle had found peace with God, and twenty-eight had been sanctified.

For sixteen years, Methodism had existed in this small country town, and here, as in other places, had been baptized in suffering. Many a time had Catherine Graves, one of the first members, been hunted by the rabble, and been pricked with pins for the purpose of drawing blood, and thereby depriving her of the power of sorcery; but now the Barnard castle Methodists, comparatively speaking, were no longer a feeble folk. They built themselves a chapel; and became the head of perhaps the widest Methodist circuit then existing. They were pious, but they were poor, and contributed, upon an average, not more than a farthing per member per week; and, of course, their circuit allowances were upon a corresponding scale. The following is a _verbatim et literatim_ extract from their stewards’ book, for the quarter ending Midsummer, 1768.

To Diner and Letters £ 1 0 0 Mr. Rowell and Family 5 15 0 Mr. Bramer and Wife 5 15 0 Mr. Hunter and Wife 4 6 0 Mr. Fenwick 3 5 0 Mr. Rowell to the Conference 2 2 0 Intrist 0 6 0 Mr. Bramer for the dockter 1 1 0 Mr. Rowell balance for his horse 2 12 0 Mr. Bramah’s House Rent 1 5 0 —————————— Quarter’s Expenditure £27 7 0

In other words, in 1768, three married Methodist ministers, and an unmarried one, cost the Barnard castle circuit about £109 8_s._ a year; or, including house rent, doctors’ bills, circuit horse, allowances for wives, conference expenses, and interest on borrowed money, about ten shillings and sixpence per minister per week. _O tempora! O mores!_

In his journey southwards, Wesley omitted visiting several of his preaching places in the north of Yorkshire. One of these was Helmsley, to which the following letter, by Dr. Conyers, refers.

“_June 7, 1763._

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—I have had information, from many hands, of your design of calling upon me at Helmsley, in your return from Scotland. I take this opportunity, frankly and freely, to declare to you, that my house and my heart are, and ever shall be, open to you. I presume our archdeacon will be with me, from Stokesley, on Wednesday evening, as he always takes a bed, and spends a night or two with me, when he is upon his visitation, which is at this place on Friday next. How far you may alter your design of preaching here, on that account, I leave to yourself. I speak this not out of fear; for I love _you_ as I love my own soul: my only apprehension is, that he, being upon the spot, may shut my church doors against you. But if you only mean a friendly visit to me, I shall be glad to see you, let who will be here; and it will be the comfort of my heart, to have you preach to my flock in every room of my house, at any time when you come this way. As far as the doctrine you teach has come to my knowledge, I know not one part to which I could not subscribe, both with hand and heart.

“I am, reverend and dear sir, your affectionate friend and servant in Christ,

“RICHARD CONYERS.”[527]

On the 13th of June, Wesley came to Epworth, where, while he was preaching, “a kind of gentleman” hired a company of boys and a drunken man to disturb the congregation. The boys shouted; the drunkard, as well as he could articulate, bawled ribaldry and nonsense; and the gentleman, with a French horn, did his utmost in blowing blasts of discord; but, despite the hubbub, the congregation quietly listened to the preacher’s sermon.

From Epworth, Wesley proceeded to Doncaster, Leeds, Dewsbury, and Manchester. While at Manchester, he paid his first visit to Matthew Mayer, at Portwood Hall, near Stockport, now a young man twenty-three years of age, a Methodist of about four years’ standing, but who had found peace with God only a few months before. In conjunction with John Morris, he had established weekly prayer-meetings at Davyhulme, Dukinfield, Ashton under Lyne, and other places, in one of which John Whitehead, the biographer of Wesley, was converted. Wesley invited young Mayer to accompany him to Birmingham, which invitation was accepted; and thus commenced a remarkable career of earnest and successful preaching, which lasted fifty years. Matthew Mayer never became, in the common sense of the designation, an itinerant preacher; and yet he itinerated tens of thousands of miles; and there are few towns, or even large villages, in Cheshire, Staffordshire, Derbyshire, the south of Lancashire, or the west of Yorkshire, in which there were not numerous living witnesses of the Divine, converting power that attended his preaching. Matthew Mayer was one of the most remarkable local preachers that Methodism has ever had. He died in 1814, and Joseph Benson went all the way from London to Lancashire, in the depth of winter, purposely to preach his funeral sermon.

Wesley left Stockport on the 20th of June, and reached the metropolis four days afterwards. Finding that the ferment, arising out of Thomas Maxfield’s separation, still continued, he resolved to remain in London until after his conference had met.

Unfortunately, no explicit record of the proceedings of this conference exists. It is known that the first edition of what are called “The Large Minutes” was published in 1753. A second edition, containing the added legislation of the last ten years, was issued in 1763. Comparing the two, we find the following decisions arrived at during the interval between the dates just mentioned.

1. “We believe the design of God, in raising up the preachers called Methodists, is to reform the nation, and, in particular, the Church; to spread scriptural holiness over the land.”[528]

2. “The greatest hindrance to field preaching is to be expected from the rich, or cowardly, or lazy Methodists. But regard them not, neither stewards, leaders, nor people. Whenever the weather will permit, go out in God’s name into the most public places, and call all to repent and believe the gospel. Every assistant, at least, in every circuit, should endeavour to preach abroad every Sunday; especially in the old societies, lest they settle upon their lees.”[529]

3. In order to prevent strangers being present more than twice or thrice at society meetings, “See that all, in every place, show their tickets before they come in. If the stewards and leaders are not exact and impartial herein, employ others which have more resolution.”[530]

4. “Examining and instructing the people” [under our care] “at their own houses, at times set apart for that purpose, has never been effectually done yet; though Thomas Walsh took some steps therein. Who will take up that cross? It will be of great use to others, and a blessing to his own soul. Do all you _can_ herein, if not all you _would_. Inquire in each house, ‘Have you family prayer? Do you read the Scripture in your family? Have you a fixed time for private prayer?’ Examine each as to his growth in grace, and discharge of relative duties.”[531]

5. “Should we insist everywhere on the band rules? particularly that relating to ruffles?

“Answer. By all means. This is no time to give any encouragement to superfluity of apparel. Therefore, give no band tickets to any in England or Ireland, till they have left them off. In order to this, (1) Read, in every society, the ‘Thoughts concerning Dress.’ (2) In visiting the classes, be very mild, but very strict. (3) Allow no exempt case, not even of a married woman; better one suffer than many.

“To encourage meeting in band: (1) In every large society, have a lovefeast quarterly for the bands only. (2) Never fail to meet them, apart from the society, once a week. (3) Exhort all believers to embrace the advantage. (4) Give a band ticket to none till they have met a quarter on trial.”[532]

6. “At each meeting of children, in every place, we may first set them a lesson in the ‘Instructions,’ or ‘Tokens for Children,’ (2) Hear them repeat it. (3) Explain it to them in an easy, familiar manner. (4) Often ask, ‘What have I been saying?’ and strive to fasten it on their hearts.”[533]

7. “Ought any woman to marry without the consent of her parents?

“Answer. In general she ought not. Yet there may be an exception. For if (1) a woman be under necessity of marrying; if (2) her parents absolutely refuse to let her marry any Christian: then she may, nay ought, to marry without their consent. Yet even then a Methodist preacher ought not to marry her.”[534]

8. “Read the sermon upon evil speaking, in every society. Extirpate smuggling, buying or selling uncustomed goods, out of every society;

## particularly in Cornwall, and in all seaport towns. Let no person

remain with us, who will not totally abstain from every kind and degree of it. Extirpate bribery; receiving anything, directly or indirectly, for voting in any election. Show no respect of persons herein, but expel all who touch the accursed thing. Let this be

## particularly observed at Grimsby and St. Ives.”[535]

9. Let every preacher in town “examine carefully what state the sick is in; and instruct, reprove, or exhort accordingly.”[536]

10. “Rarely spend above an hour at a time in conversing with any one. Earnestly recommend the five o’clock hour to all.”[537]

11. The preachers were requested to offer constantly and fervently, at set times, private, family, and public prayer; consisting of deprecation, petition, intercession, and thanksgiving. They were to forecast, wherever they were, how to secure the hour at five in the evening, and the hour before or after morning preaching, for private devotion. They were constantly to read the Scriptures, Wesley’s tracts, and the Christian Library. They were to devote their mornings to reading, writing, prayer, and meditation. They were always to have a New Testament in their pockets; and were to see that Wesley’s Notes thereon were in every society, and were to explain them to the congregations. They were devoutly to use the Lord’s supper at every opportunity. They were advised to fast every Friday, Wesley avowing his purpose generally to eat only vegetables on Friday, and to take only toast and water in the morning. They were to meet every society weekly; also the leaders, and the bands, if any. They were diligently to inquire into the state of the books, to do all they could to propagate them. They were to keep watchnights once a month, and lovefeasts twice a year for the whole society. They were to visit every society once a quarter; to take a regular catalogue of the members, at least, once a year; and to write Wesley an account of all the defects of “the common preachers,” which they could not themselves cure. They were steadily to watch against the world, the devil, themselves, and besetting sins; and to deny themselves every useless pleasure of sense, imagination, and honour. They were recommended to use only that kind and that degree of food, which was best both for the body and the soul; to eat no flesh and no late suppers; and to take only three meals a day.[538]

12. “What can be done to make the people sing true?

“Answer. (1) Learn to sing true yourselves. (2) Recommend the tunes everywhere. (3) If a preacher cannot sing himself, let him choose two or three persons in every place, to pitch the tune for him.”[539]

13. “What is it best to take after preaching?

“Answer. Lemonade; candied orange peel; or a little soft, warm ale. But egg and wine is downright poison. And so are late suppers.”[540]

14. Preachers on probation were “not to ramble up and down, but to go where the assistant directed, and there only.”[541]

15. No one was to exhort in any of the societies without a note of recommendation from the assistant, which was to be renewed yearly.[542]

16. To make the Methodists sensible of the excellency of Kingswood school, every assistant was to read an account of it yearly; to exhort parents, who were able, to send their children thither; to answer all their objections, and refute all the lies they had heard about it; and to make a collection for it, at Midsummer, in every preaching house throughout England.[543]

17. “Has the office of an assistant been thoroughly executed?

“Answer. No; not by one assistant out of three. For instance, every assistant ought (1) To ‘see that the other preachers behave well.’ But who has sent me word whether they did or no? (2) ‘To visit the classes, regulate the bands, and deliver tickets quarterly.’ How few have done this! (3) Lovefeasts for the bands have been neglected. (4) Nor have persons been regularly taken in, and put out of, the bands. (5) I fear many of the quarterly meetings are formal, not spiritual. (6) The societies are not half supplied with books; not even with ‘Kempis,’ ‘Instructions for Children,’ and ‘Primitive Physic,’ which ought to be in every house. And why should not each of you do like William Pennington—carry books with you through every round? Exert yourselves in this. Be not ashamed. Be not weary. Leave no stone unturned. And let none print anything of his own, till it has been approved by the conference. (7) How few accounts have I had, either of remarkable deaths or remarkable conversions! (8) How few exact lists have we received of the societies! Take more time and more pains in preparing them. (9) Who of you has met the married and single men and women once a quarter, even in the largest societies? (10) You have not provided a private room everywhere for the preacher; nor a bed to himself; neither the ‘Library,’ for want of which some still read trash. Till this can be done, let there be, immediately, in every place, at least the ‘Notes,’ and the tract on original sin.”[544]

18. “Is there any other advice which you would give assistants?

“Answer. Yes. In every place, exhort those who were brought up in the Church, constantly to attend its service. And in visiting the classes, ask every one, ‘Do you go to church as often as ever you did?’ Set the example yourself. And immediately alter every plan that interferes therewith. Is there not a cause for this? Are we not unawares, by little and little, tending to a separation from the Church? Oh remove every tendency thereto with all diligence. (1) Let all our preachers go to church. (2) Let all our people go constantly. (3) Receive the sacrament at every opportunity. (4) Warn all against niceness in hearing; a great and prevailing evil. (5) Warn them likewise against despising the prayers of the Church. (6) Against calling our society a church, or the church. (7) Against calling our preachers ministers, our houses meeting-houses (call them plain preaching houses). (9) Do not license them as such. The proper form of a petition to the judge is, ‘A. B. desires to have his house in C. licensed for public worship.’ (10) Do not license yourself, till you are constrained; and then not as a Dissenter, but a Methodist preacher. It is time enough when you are prosecuted, to take the oaths. Thereby you are licensed.”[545]

19. “What do you advise with regard to public buildings?

“Answer. (1) Let none be undertaken without the consent of the assistant. (2) Build, if possible, in the form of Rotherham house. (3) Settle it in the following form.”

Here follows the trust deed for the chapel in Manchester, to the effect that, during their lifetime, Wesley, his brother, and Grimshaw of Haworth, and others, whom they might appoint, should have the use of the said chapel; and that, after their death, the trustees should permit such persons to preach in it as were appointed by the yearly conference; provided always, that such persons preach no other doctrine than is contained in Wesley’s Notes upon the New Testament, and his four volumes of sermons; and provided also, that they preach —— evenings in every week, and at five o’clock on each morning following.[546]

20. “How may we raise a general fund?

“Answer. By a yearly subscription, to be proposed by every assistant when he visits the classes at Christmas, and to be received at the visitation following.”

To this end, the assistant was to enlarge on the following hints. (1) That the debts on the chapels of the Connexion amounted to about £4000. (2) That God had raised up preachers, and that they were greatly needed; but could not be employed for want of money to find them food. (3) That, in order to quell riotous mobs, it was necessary to have recourse to the King’s Bench, and that a suit there usually cost £50 or £60, which must be met by a general contribution.[547]

21. “How may provision be made for old or worn out preachers?

“Answer. As to their employ, they may be supernumerary preachers, or assistants, in those circuits wherein there is most need. As to their subsistence,—(1) Let every travelling preacher contribute ten shillings yearly. (2) Let this be lodged in the hands of three stewards, approved of by the majority of the preachers. (3) Out of this, let what is needful be allowed yearly; first for the old or sickly preachers and their families; then for the widows and children of those that are dead.”[548]

22. “If God should call you away, what would be the most probable means of preventing the people from being scattered?

“Answer. Let all the assistants, for the time being, immediately go up to London, and consult what steps are fittest to be taken. And God will then make the way plain before them.”[549]

We have thus endeavoured, in as brief a form as possible, to embody all the points, in the Minutes published in 1763, that are not contained in the previous publication of 1753. Some of these are curious, and others of the greatest consequence. Three connexional funds are sanctioned and recommended. A trust deed for chapels is supplied. Continued union with the Church of England is strongly urged. To say nothing of the discipline prescribed for the preachers, and for the people, these were matters of the utmost moment, and deserve more attention than we have space to give them. Facts are furnished; the reader himself must ponder them.

Before leaving the conference of 1763, it may be added, that its sessions were held in the chapel at Spitalfields; and that Howel Harris was present, and exhorted the preachers to have faith in God, and whenever they met a man, in any of their journeyings, to speak to him about his soul. “If I meet a poor man,” said he, “I give him a halfpenny, if I have one; but I always remember that the man has a soul as well as a body, and therefore I say something to him respecting his salvation. And if I meet a rich man, why should I be afraid of him? For aught I know, he may be worse than the beast he rides upon. Perhaps the beast carries the devil upon its back.”[550]

The conference being ended, Wesley set out, on the 15th of August, perhaps in company with Howel Harris, to the principality of Wales. At all events, four days afterwards, he reached Trevecca, and wrote: “Howel Harris’s house is one of the most elegant places which I have seen in Wales. The little chapel, and all things round about it, are finished in an uncommon taste; and the gardens, orchards, fishponds, and mount adjoining, make the place a little paradise. He thanks God for these things, and looks through them. About sixscore persons are now in the family; all diligent, all constantly employed; all fearing God and working righteousness.”

Wesley continues: “August 20.—We took horse at four in the morning, and rode through one of the pleasantest countries in the world. I will be bold to say, all England does not afford such a line of fifty miles’ length, for fields, meadows, woods, brooks, and gently rising mountains, fruitful to the very top.”

On completing his Welsh tour, Wesley wrote: “I was more convinced than ever, that the preaching like an apostle, without joining together those that are awakened, and training them up in the ways of God, is only begetting children for the murderer. How much preaching has there been for these twenty years all over Pembrokeshire! But no regular societies, no discipline, no order or connection; and the consequence is, that nine in ten of the once awakened are now faster asleep than ever.”

These are weighty words, and well worth pondering by those, in modern days, who advocate a revision of the laws respecting Methodists meeting together in weekly class. Wesley spoke from experience; these are theorists, who, in the absence of experience, will do well to hesitate before they step.

During his journey in Wales, Wesley informed himself respecting a Welsh extravagance, referred to in the following letter, published in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, for June 27, 1763.

“There is here” [at Lancroyes] “what some call a great reformation in religion among the Methodists; but the case is really this. They have a sort of rustic dance in their public worship, which they call religious dancing, in imitation of David’s dancing before the ark. Some of them strip off their clothes, crying out, Hosannah, etc., in imitation of those that attended our Saviour when He rode into Jerusalem. They call this the glory of the latter day; and when any person speaks to them of their extravagance, the answer they give is, ‘You have the mark of the enemy in your forehead.’ Such are the delusion and uncharitableness of this people.”

These Welsh jumpers are called Methodists; but they were Methodists over whom Wesley had no control. He writes:

“1763, August 27.—Mr. Evans gave me an account, from his own knowledge, of what has made a great noise in Wales. ‘It is common, in the congregations attended by Mr. W. W., and one or two other clergymen, after the preaching is over, for any one that has a mind, to give out a verse of a hymn. This they sing over and over with all their might, perhaps above thirty, yea, forty times. Meanwhile the bodies of two or three, sometimes ten or twelve, are violently agitated; and they leap up and down, in all manner of postures, frequently for hours together.’ I think, there needs no great penetration to understand this. They are honest, upright men, who really feel the love of God in their hearts. But they have little experience, either of the ways of God, or the devices of Satan. So he serves himself in their simplicity, in order to wear them out, and to bring a discredit on the work of God.”

Strangely enough this jumping in public worship found an advocate in good William Williams, the Welsh hymnist, who wrote a pamphlet in defence of it.[551] To the injury of religion it was perpetuated for many years.

At the end of August, Wesley came to Bristol, in the neighbourhood of which he remained a month, frequently preaching out of doors, and expressing the opinion, that in no other way could the outcasts of men be reached. He cautioned the Bristol Methodists, not to “love the world, neither the things of the world”; and writes, in language and tone which ought to be a warning to the Methodists of the present day: “This will be their grand danger; as they are industrious and frugal, they must needs increase in goods. This appears already; in London, Bristol, and most other trading towns, those who are in business have increased in substance sevenfold, some of them twenty, yea, an hundredfold. What need, then, have these of the strongest warnings, lest they be entangled therein, and perish!”

On October 1, he returned to London, and says: “I found our house in ruins, great part of it being taken down, in order to a thorough repair. But as much remained as I wanted; six foot square suffices me by day or by night.” He adds: “All this week, I endeavoured to confirm those who had been shaken, as to the important doctrine of Christian perfection, either by its wild defenders, or wise opposers, who much availed themselves of that wildness.”

He then made a three weeks’ tour to Norwich, where he read the rules of the society, adding: “Those who are resolved to keep these rules may continue with us, and those only.” He told them he would immediately put a stop to Methodist preaching in the time of Church service; and wound up by saying: “For many years I have had more trouble with this society, than with half the societies of England put together. With God’s help, I will try you one year longer; and I hope you will bring forth better fruit.”

On October 29, Wesley returned to London, where he continued the remainder of the year. He visited the classes, and found that, since February, one hundred and seventy-five persons had left the society, one hundred and six of whom were Thomas Maxfield’s friends. All his leisure hours he employed in reading over, with the London preachers, the publications of himself and his brother; considering the objections that had been made against them; and correcting whatever they judged wrong either in matter or expression.

Hitherto Wesley had consorted but little with Dissenting ministers. He had visited Doddridge, and had been in friendly communication with Gillies and a few of the presbyterians of North Britain; but that was well-nigh all. With a heart big enough to embrace all men, without distinction of nation, sect, or colour, he had, hitherto, intentionally or otherwise, been as exemplary an observer of the etiquette of episcopal caste as almost any high church ritualist could wish. In December, 1763, he added to his friends the presbyterian minister of Staplehurst, in Kent. A few months before, the Rev. Jacob Chapman, the minister alluded to, wrote to Wesley, saying: “I am a minister of the presbyterian denomination; but my Master has enabled me to love real Christians of all denominations. I have reason to bless God for my acquaintance with the Methodists; they have been great blessings to me and my dear wife. The Lord has inclined us to receive the preachers most freely and joyfully.”[552] Mr. Chapman was not an episcopalian; but he was a Christian, and, on December 7, Wesley went to visit him. He writes: “Mr. Chapman, who loves all that love Christ, received us gladly. At six, the congregation, gathered from many miles round, seemed just ripe for the gospel; so that, contrary to my custom in a new place, I spoke merely of ‘the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.’”

Immediately after Wesley’s return to London, Mr. Chapman wrote him as follows.

“STAPLEHURST, _December 10, 1763_.

“REVEREND SIR,—You shall be always most heartily welcome to the best part of my house, for the sake of the Lord Jesus Christ, whose you are, and whom you serve. Whatever preachers you send, we shall joyfully receive, be their opinions what they may. I would like those best, who are most like Christ. I very greatly approve of the rules of the society, and very fervently love you; and I trust never to let a day pass without praying for you. I make no doubt, the lay preachers are sent by our Lord as extraordinary messengers; and that His design is, that they should _go about_ calling poor sinners to repent and believe the gospel, and consequently that they are _not to settle_ anywhere. This is a very difficult office. The Lord strengthen them for the arduous undertaking.”[553]

The friendship, thus begun, was long continued. Mr. Chapman’s house and chapel were open to the Methodist preachers. He himself became a member of the Methodist society, and was as docile and humble as though he had been one of the most illiterate among the people. His stipend was £80 per annum; he lived on £20, and gave away the rest in charity. He almost, if not entirely, used a vegetarian diet, and principally for the purpose of being able to relieve the necessities of his poorer brethren. He survived Wesley; and when visited by Robert Miller, about the year 1790, gave him the heartiest welcome, saying: “I have entertained the preachers for seven-and-twenty years, and hope they will never forsake me while I live.” Mr. Miller adds: “Mr. Chapman was one of the best men I ever knew”;[554] and good old John Reynolds testified: “Of all the men of God, with whom I have had the happiness to be acquainted, in a life of more than threescore years, I have never known one who appeared to possess so much of the mind of Christ as Mr. Chapman.”[555]

The world is full of changes. Man’s circle of acquaintance alters in character, though not materially in size. New friends spring up on earth; but old friends are removed to heaven. Thus it was with Wesley. In 1763, he became acquainted with Mr. Chapman; in the same year, he was bereaved of Dr. Byrom.

Byrom was the son of a linen draper, and born at Kersal, near Manchester, in 1691. After being educated in his native town, and at the Merchant Taylors’ school in London, he was, at the age of sixteen, admitted a pensioner of Trinity college, Cambridge. In 1714, he was elected fellow of his college, and, in the same year, became a contributor to Addison’s _Spectator_. Two years later, he resigned his college preferment, and went to Montpelier, to study physic. On his return to England, he assumed the office of teacher of shorthand writing, of which he was preeminently a master. On the death of his brother, he came into possession of the family estate, at Kersal, and gave himself up to the enjoyment of domestic and social felicity. He was a profound admirer of the great English mystic, William Law; but was also a man of unaffected piety. At a time when much obloquy was attached to the name of Methodist, he was not ashamed of being known as the particular friend of Wesley. He died September 28, 1763.[556] His only son died ten years afterwards.[557]

In many respects, Byrom was a remarkable man. In stature, he was one of the tallest men in England; so that, in the course of fifty years, he appears to have met only two others taller than himself.[558] In stenography, he was the greatest proficient then existing. The extent, variety, and accuracy of his literary studies were amazing, as is shown by his manuscripts still extant. There seems hardly to have been any language, of which the literature was of any value, which he did not master; and his writing of Hebrew, Arabic, etc., was such as the engraver might vainly attempt to imitate.[559] His poetry, quaint but pungent, is too well known to need description. As a specimen of it, and of his politics, the following is far from being bad:

“God bless the King, and bless the Faiths Defender; God bless—no harm in blessing—the Pretender; But who Pretender is, and who is King, Why, bless us all, that’s quite another thing.”[560]

Wesley inserted not a few of his poems in the old _Arminian_ magazines; and writes: “It cannot be denied, that he was a man of uncommon genius, a man of the finest and strongest understanding; and, yet, very few even of his countrymen and contemporaries have so much as heard his name.”[561] “He has all the wit and humour of Dr. Swift, together with much more learning, and, above all, a serious vein of piety. A few things, in the second volume of his poems, are taken from Jacob Behmen; to whom I object, not only, that he is obscure, and not only, that his whole hypothesis is wholly unsupported either by Scripture or reason; but also, because the ingenious madman over and over contradicts Christian experience, reason, Scripture, and himself. But setting these things aside, we have” [in Dr. Byrom’s poems,] “some of the finest sentiments that ever appeared in the English tongue; some of the noblest truths, expressed with the utmost energy, and the strongest colours of poetry.”[562]

One or two other matters, belonging to this period of Wesley’s history, must be mentioned.

The increase of Methodism was one of Wesley’s difficulties, as well as his great encouragement. His societies, especially the larger ones, naturally wished to receive the sacrament in their own chapels: but as Wesley had no clerical helper, entirely devoted to the work, except his brother; and as he himself was almost always itinerating, it was physically impossible to meet the demands of London, Bristol, and other places. Neither of the Wesleys was prepared to allow the unordained preachers to administer, and they themselves were utterly unable to attend to the reasonable claims of all that wanted them. Hence the difficulty. This was partly met, when Thomas Maxfield received ordination from an Irish bishop. For several years, Maxfield was stationed in London, to read the liturgy and to administer the sacrament in Wesley’s absence. But now Maxfield had left him, and his embarrassment was greater than ever. One of his principal helpers was John Jones, a man of considerable learning, of good abilities, and of deep piety, and who, for seventeen years, had faithfully acted the part of an itinerant preacher. Just at this juncture, Erasmus, a bishop of the Greek church, visited London; and, as it was impossible to obtain ordination, for the Methodist preachers, from the bishops of the English Church, it occurred to Wesley, that it might be expedient to apply to Erasmus to ordain Mr. Jones. Previous, however, to doing this, Wesley felt it necessary to satisfy himself, that Erasmus really was a bishop. By his direction, Jones wrote to the patriarch of Smyrna on the subject; and received an answer, stating that Erasmus was bishop of Arcadia in Crete. To this was added the testimony of several gentlemen who had met the eastern prelate in Turkey. Wesley says, “he had abundant unexceptionable credentials as to his episcopal character.”[563] Being fully satisfied of this, Wesley requested him to set apart Mr. Jones, to assist him in administering the sacrament to his societies. Erasmus did so; and, if the matter had ended here, the thing would hardly have deserved further notice.

No sooner was it known, however, that one of the itinerants had been ordained, than several others applied to the good tempered bishop for the same episcopal favour. The following appeared in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, for December 7, 1764.

“To the article in the papers relating to three tradesmen being ordained by a Greek bishop, another may be added, a master baker. And two celebrated Methodist preachers made also an application to the same bishop, to consecrate one or both of them bishops; but the Greek told them, it was contrary to the rule of his church for _one_ bishop to make another: yet, notwithstanding all he said, they very unwillingly took a denial.”

Whether this was strictly true, we can hardly tell; but certain it is, that John Jones, Samson Staniforth, Thomas Bryant, and others were ordained. The result was, Charles Wesley took huge offence; and, shortly after, Mr. Jones was obliged to leave the connexion; Samson Staniforth had to refrain from exercising his priestly functions; and Thomas Bryant put on a gown, and made a rent in the Methodist society of Sheffield.[564]

The unpleasantness did not end even here. In 1771, Augustus Toplady, one of Wesley’s bitterest opponents, published “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley,” in which he revived the thing. With his unenviable scurrility, he called Erasmus “a foreign mendicant”; and said: “to this day, the Greek church in Amsterdam believes him to be an impostor.” He also supplied a certificate, written in Greek, of which the following is a translation.

“Our measure from the grace, gift, and power of the All-holy and Life-giving Spirit, given by our Saviour Jesus Christ to His Divine and holy apostles, to ordain subdeacons and deacons; and also, to advance to the dignity of a priest; of this grace which hath descended to our humility, I have ordained subdeacon and deacon, at Snowfields chapel, on the 19th day of November, 1764, and at Wells Street chapel on the 24th of the same month, priest the reverend: Mr. W. C.[565] according to the rules of the holy apostles, and of our faith. Moreover, I have given to him power to minister and teach, in all the world, the gospel of Jesus Christ, no one forbidding him in the church of God. Wherefore, for that very purpose, I have made this present letter of recommendation from our humility, and have given it to the ordained Mr. W. C. for his certificate and security.

“Given and written at London, in Britain, November 24, 1764.

“ERASMUS, Bishop of Arcadia.”

Toplady proceeds to ask Wesley four insinuating questions.

“1. Did you get him to ordain several of your lay preachers according to the Greek ritual? 2. Did not these preachers both dress and officiate as clergymen of the Church of England, in consequence of that ordination; and under your own sanction and approbation? Nay, did you not repeatedly declare, that their ordination was, to all intents and purposes, as valid as your own? 3. Did you not strongly press this supposed Greek bishop to consecrate you a bishop, that you might be invested with a power of ordaining what ministers you pleased, to officiate in your societies as clergymen? And did he not refuse to consecrate you, alleging this for his reason,—That, according to the canons of the Greek church, more than one bishop must be present to assist at the consecration of a new one? 4. In all this, did you not palpably violate the oath of supremacy, which you have repeatedly taken? part of which runs thus: ‘I do declare, that no foreign prince, person, prelate, state, or potentate, hath, or ought to have, any jurisdiction, power, superiority, preeminence, or authority, ecclesiastical or spiritual, within this realm,’”

How much truth was there in all this? It will be seen, that the pretended certificate was signed only a fortnight before the statement, already quoted, appeared in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_. Both the chapels mentioned were Wesley’s chapels. Alexander Mather, who had been six years in the itinerancy, was a baker before he entered it, and had a considerable amount of innocent ambition. Wesley was in great difficulty arising from the want of ordained preachers to administer the sacraments; and, though he had long held the theory of Lord King, that, according to New Testament teaching, every presbyter was, in reality, a bishop; and therefore, that he himself, being a presbyter, was also a bishop, and as fully authorised to ordain others as any bishop in the world; yet, for prudential reasons, this was an authority which, at present, he was not prepared to exercise: and, hence, it would not have been surprising if he had made the application to Erasmus which it is surmised he did.

All this gives considerable plausibility to the half affirmative queries of Augustus Toplady. On the other hand, however, we have the absolute declaration of Wesley himself, that Erasmus never rejected any overture that he made to him;[566] and, if this were so, it follows that, either Erasmus did actually ordain him a bishop (which no one ventures to assert); or, that Toplady’s insinuation is calumniously untrue. To this, also, must be added, the testimony of Thomas Olivers, who with Wesley’s consent,[567] if not at his request, replied to Toplady’s attack; namely, that though Wesley did get Erasmus to ordain John Jones, and though John Jones did dress as a clergyman of the Church of England, and did assist Wesley in administering the Lord’s supper in the Methodist societies, yet Wesley had authorised him (Olivers) to give the most positive and unqualified denial to the insinuation, that he had asked Erasmus to ordain himself to the high office of a bishop. “But,” continues Olivers, “suppose he had, where would have been the blame? Mr. Wesley is connected with a number of persons who have given every proof, which the nature of the thing allows, that they have an _inward call_ to preach the gospel. Both he and they would be glad if they had _an outward_ call too. But no bishop in _England_ will give it them. What wonder then, if he was to endeavour to procure it by any other innocent means?”[568]

This was written in 1771, only six or seven years after the alleged events took place. Which is likeliest to be true—the bitter insinuation of a malignant opponent like Toplady; or the positive assertion of Wesley himself, and the authorised declaration of Wesley’s friend Olivers? Here the matter must be left. Though somewhat tedious, it is also important, as tending to show, that the growth of Methodism was one of Wesley’s greatest difficulties, and rendered it absolutely imperative—either that he should make the Methodists Dissenters; or, that he should procure episcopal ordination for his preachers; or, that he should do something else, which he tried to do in 1764, and which will have to be noticed in the year following.

Wesley’s life was a continued warfare. In 1763, there was published, “A Caution against Religious Delusion: a sermon preached at the visitation of the Archdeacon of Ely, in the church of St. Michael, Cambridge, on Thursday, May 19, 1763. By William Backhouse, M.A., fellow of Christ’s college, and vicar of Meldreth.” 8vo, 20 pages. Of course, this was another attack on Methodism. Methodist preachers are “modern pretenders to supernatural informations”; they are “hurried away with the exorbitancies of ungoverned piety”; they are “enthusiastic preachers, who are mindful enough of one part of St. Paul’s injunction to Timothy, ‘to give attendance to _exhortation_, and to _doctrine_,’ but alas! if they really would, they could not give heed to the first and fundamental part of it—_reading_.”

Another onslaught was made by a greater Church dignitary than Mr. Backhouse. Dr. Thomas Rutherforth was a fellow of the Royal Society, archdeacon of Essex, regius professor of divinity at Cambridge, and an author of repute; though Warburton says of him: “If he knows no more of theology than he does of morals, he is the meanest pedant of the age.” In 1763, Rutherforth published “Four Charges to the Clergy of the Archdeaconry of Essex”; in which he took the liberty to tell his readers, that though “the Methodists pretend to be the genuine sons of the Church of England, they adopt the language and opinions of the conventicle; for they maintain, that every believer, provided he has the gift of utterance, is qualified to preach, and that human learning is rather an impediment than otherwise.” His pamphlet of ninety-five pages, octavo, is dull and dreary, though upon the whole, respectful. Five years afterwards, Wesley wrote an answer to it, from which the following are extracts. Rutherforth charges Wesley with maintaining contradictions. Wesley replies:—

“If all my sentiments were compared together, from the year 1725 to 1768, there would be truth in the charge; for, during the latter part of this period, I have relinquished several of my former sentiments. During these last thirty years, I may also have varied in some of my sentiments and expressions without observing it. I will not undertake to defend all the expressions which I have occasionally used during this time, but must desire men of candour to make allowance for those

‘Quas aut incuria fudit, Aut humana parum cavit natura.’

It is not strange if, among these inaccurate expressions, there are some seeming contradictions, especially considering, I was answering so many different objectors, frequently attacking me at once. Nevertheless, I believe there will be found few, if any, real contradictions in what I have published for near thirty years.”

Again, Dr. Rutherforth had objected to the Methodists, on the ground of their doctrine of assurance. Wesley’s reply to this is well worth pondering.

“I believe a few, but very few, Christians have an assurance from God of everlasting salvation; and that is the thing which the apostle terms _full assurance of hope_.

“I believe more have such an assurance of being now in the favour of God as excludes all doubt and fear; and this, if I do not mistake, the apostle means by the _full assurance of faith_.

“I believe a consciousness of being in the favour of God, (which I do not term _full assurance_, since it is frequently weakened, nay, perhaps interrupted, by returns of doubt or fear,) is the common privilege of Christians, fearing God and working righteousness. Yet I do not affirm there are no exceptions to this general rule but, I believe, this is usually owing either to disorder of body, or to ignorance of the gospel promises. Therefore, I have not, for many years, thought a consciousness of acceptance to be essential to justifying faith.

“After I have thus explained myself once for all, I hope all reasonable men will be satisfied; and whoever will dispute with me on this head must do it for disputing’s sake.”

Rutherforth’s main accusation, however, is that the Methodists teach, that “Christianity rejects the aid of human learning.” To this Wesley replies: “Mr. Berridge thinks it does; but I am not accountable for him, from whom, in this, I totally differ.” In proof of this he appeals to his “deliberate thoughts on human learning” in his “Serious Address to the Clergy”; to his establishment of Kingswood school; and to the fact that, though his preachers did not profess to know the languages and philosophy, yet some of them understood both one and the other better than great part of his pupils at the university did. He continues:

“What I believe concerning learning is this: that it is highly expedient for a guide of souls, but not absolutely necessary. What I believe to be absolutely necessary is, a faith unfeigned, the love of God and our neighbour, a burning zeal for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom, with a heart and life wholly devoted to God. These I judge to be necessary in the highest degree; and next to these a competent knowledge of Scripture, a sound understanding, a tolerable utterance, and a willingness to be as the filth and offscouring of the world.”[569]

Noble words are these of Wesley. Let all Methodist quarterly and district meetings and conferences act upon them.

The most furious attack on Wesley, in 1763, was by Warburton, bishop of Gloucester, in an octavo volume of 259 pages, first published in 1762, and entitled, “The Doctrine of Grace: or, The Office and Operations of the Holy Spirit vindicated from the Insults of Infidelity, and the Abuses of Fanaticism.” Warburton allows, that Wesley is “an extraordinary man”; but finds fault with him for having “laid claim to almost every apostolic gift and grace in as full a measure as they were possessed of old.” In earnest raillery, and trenchant language, the Gloucester prelate professes to establish this, by citations from Wesley’s Journals. To attempt a summary of his episcopal scoldings is impracticable; indeed, it would be of little use. It is a curious fact, that Warburton sent the manuscript to Wesley before the work was printed, with a request to notice its errors. Wesley says: “the manuscript abounded with quotations from poets, philosophers, etc., both in Greek and Latin. After correcting the false readings, improper glosses, and other errors, I returned it.”[570] This incident helps to explain a sentence in one of Wesley’s letters to his brother, dated “January 5, 1762”: “I was a little surprised to find Bishop Warburton so entirely unacquainted with the New Testament; and, notwithstanding all his parade of learning, I believe he is no critic in Greek.”[571]

Wesley lost no time in replying to Warburton’s attack. This he did, in “A Letter to the Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Gloucester. Occasioned by his tract on the office and operations of the Holy Spirit. London: 1763.” 12mo, 144 pages. The character and substance of Wesley’s answer may be inferred from its concluding paragraphs.

“I have now finished what I had to say, either concerning myself, or on the operations of the Holy Spirit. In doing this, I have used great plainness of speech, and yet, I hope, without rudeness. If anything of that kind has slipped from me, I am ready to retract it. I desire, on the one hand, to _accept no man’s person_; and yet, on the other, to give _honour to whom honour is due_.

“If your lordship should think it worth your while to spend any more words upon me, may I presume to request one thing of your lordship,—to be more _serious_? It cannot injure your lordship’s _character_, or your _cause_.”

Warburton’s book was principally an attack on Wesley and Conyers Middleton; but as the title page, at least, referred to the “office and operations of the Holy Spirit,” others, beside Wesley, deemed it their duty to call the jaunty bishop to account for his errors and omissions. Whitefield, though scarcely alluded to by Warburton, sent forth a pamphlet of twenty-four pages, in which he charges the bishop with having, “in effect, robbed the church of its promised Comforter; and, thereby, left us without any supernatural influence or Divine operations whatsoever.” The Rev. John Andrews, LL.B., of St. Mary hall, Oxford, published a book of 224 pages to correct his lordship’s notions; and soon after was dismissed from a small Church benefice the prelate had previously bestowed upon him. John Payne also, once a bookseller, but afterwards accountant of the Bank of England, issued a volume of five hundred pages, accusing the bishop of unfairness to Mr. Law. Dr. Thomas Leland, a fellow of Trinity college, Dublin, the most admired preacher of that city, and whose classical learning Dr. Johnson considered to be unrivalled, gave to the world his “Dissertation on the Principles of Human Eloquence,” in which he refuted the arguments used by Warburton in reference to the style and composition of the New Testament. Thus the irate bishop got into a nest of hornets. Wesley considered, that he himself had so “_untwisted the bishops arguments_,” that to put them together again was a thing impossible.[572] Andrews so stung his lordship, that he was soon dismissed from his benefice. And Leland so vanquished his antagonist, that, instead of the bishop defending his own, Dr. Hurd, in a tone of sarcasm and contempt, thought proper to answer on behalf of his episcopal master, and, three years afterwards, was made archdeacon of his master’s diocese. Samuel Charndler, also, of Newington, appeared as the bishop’s champion, in “An Answer to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Letter to William, Lord Bishop of Gloucester.” 8vo, 22 pages. With no slight degree of egotism, he tells his readers, that his “remarks are not the fruits of idle conceit, or mere conjecture, not party suggestions, or newfangled notions, but a plain series of well considered thoughts.” He informs Wesley, that Methodist “doctrine has filled Bedlam and the several madhouses in England with shoals of patients”; that he had “occasioned many and great violations of the peace”; and that he is “well skilled in the rudiments of deceit.” Poor Samuel Charndler, by the side of Bishop Warburton, was a Lilliputian playing antics in the presence of a Patagonian giant.

The other publications of Wesley, in 1763, were as follows.

1. “Letters wrote by Jane Cooper, to which is prefixed some account of her Life and Death.” 12mo, 41 pages. Jane Cooper was born in Norfolk, in 1738; and, in the twentieth year of her age, came to London as a domestic servant; was converted; and joined the Methodists. Four years afterwards she died of smallpox, and Wesley buried her. She was evidently one of Wesley’s pattern saints, and professed to live in the enjoyment of Christian holiness. Indeed, her experience forms a part of Wesley’s “Plain Account of Christian Perfection.” Considering her social position, her letters are remarkable productions. “All here,” says Wesley, “is strong, sterling sense, strictly agreeable to sound reason. Here are no extravagant flights, no mystic reveries, no unscriptural enthusiasm. The sentiments are all just and noble; the result of a fine natural understanding, cultivated by conversation, thinking, reading, and true Christian experience.” The last words of this servant maid were: “My Jesus is all in all to me; glory be to Him through time and eternity.” Wesley calls her “a pattern of all holiness, and of the wisdom which is from above.”

2. “Farther Thoughts upon Christian Perfection.” 12mo, 39 pages. This has been already noticed.

3. As also the following: “A Sermon preached before the Society for the Reformation of Manners; on Sunday, January 30, 1763. At the chapel in West Street, Seven Dials.” 8vo, 31 pages. At the end of it, the names of five gentlemen are given, who would receive subscriptions to the funds of the society, on behalf of which it was delivered.

4. The substance also of another pamphlet has been already given: “Minutes of several Conversations between the Rev. Mr. John and Charles Wesley, and others.” 12mo, 30 pages.

5. The “Sermon on Sin in Believers” was written March 28, 1763. Its object is to refute the doctrine of Zinzendorf, that _all_ true believers are _entirely_ sanctified. The sermon is one of Wesley’s ablest homilies; and, doubtless, had its origin in the excitement arising out of the subject of Christian perfection. “I wrote it,” says he, “in order to remove a mistake which some were labouring to propagate,—that there is no sin in any that are justified.”

6. “An Extract from Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost,’ with Notes.” 18mo, 320 pages. Wesley’s object, in this publication, may be gathered from his preface. “This inimitable work, amidst all its beauties, is unintelligible to abundance of readers: the immense learning, which Milton has everywhere crowded together, making it quite obscure to persons of a common education. This difficulty I have endeavoured to remove in the following extract: first, by omitting those lines which I despaired of explaining to the unlearned; and secondly, by adding short and easy notes. To those passages, which I apprehend to be peculiarly excellent, either with regard to sentiment or expression, I have prefixed a star; and these, I believe, it would be worth while to read over and over, or even to commit to memory.”[573]

7. “A Survey of the Wisdom of God in Creation; or, a Compendium of Natural Philosophy.” 2 vols., 12mo. This work was begun as early as the year 1758;[574] and was published by subscription. In a circular to his assistants, Wesley said: “Spare no pains to procure subscriptions for the Philosophy. It will be the most complete thing of its kind in the English tongue.”[575] A second edition, in three volumes, was issued in 1770; a third, in five volumes, in 1777. In the _London Magazine_, for 1774, a long letter, signed “Philosophaster,” was addressed to Wesley, criticising some of his statements. In his reply,[576] Wesley, in some points, acknowledges himself to be in error; but not in others; and then concludes: “Permit me, sir, to give you one piece of advice. Be not so _positive_; especially with regard to things which are neither easy nor necessary to be determined. I ground this advice on my own experience. When I was young, I was _sure_ of everything. In a few years, having been mistaken a thousand times, I was not half so sure of most things as before. At present, I am hardly sure of anything, but what God has revealed to man.”

1764.

[Sidenote: 1764 Age 61]

Charles Wesley, in feeble health, seems to have spent the year 1764 in London and in Bristol. Whitefield was in America, and so much an invalid, that he could only preach about thrice a week. Though distant, he affectionately remembered his old friend Wesley. Hence the following.

“PHILADELPHIA, _September 25, 1764_.

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—Your kind letter, dated in January last, through the negligence of those that received the parcel, did not reach me till within these few days. I have been mercifully carried through the summer’s heat; and, had strength permitted, I might have preached to thousands and thousands thrice a day. Zealous ministers are not so rare in this new world as in other parts. Here is room for a hundred itinerants. Fain would I end my life in rambling after those that have rambled away from Jesus Christ. I am persuaded you are likeminded. I wish you and all your dear fellow labourers much prosperity. I do not repent being a poor, despised, cast out, and now almost worn out itinerant. I would do it again, if I had my choice. If you and all yours would join in praying over a poor, worthless, but willing pilgrim, it would be a very great act of charity, he being, though less than the least of all,

“Reverend and very dear sir, ever yours in Jesus,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[577]

Whitefield was away from England; but even that was not enough to save him from the malignant attacks of his English enemies. At the very commencement of the year, the half insane watchmaker, mentioned in a previous chapter, published another of his shilling pamphlets, with the fantastic title: “Remarks upon the Life, Character, and Behaviour of the Rev. George Whitefield, as written by himself, from the time of his birth to the time he departed from his Tabernacle; demonstrating, by astronomical calculation, that his ascension, meridian, and declination were necessarily actuated by planetary influence, and that his doctrine was not Divine mission, but from a mere fatality evident, as daily seen in the sad catastrophe of his unhappy, gloomy, and misguided followers. The whole being a choice new year’s gift for Methodists, and one of the most valuable prizes that ever was drawn since Methodism has been in being. By John Harman, astronomer.” Well might the _Monthly Review_ remark: “Harman styles himself ‘regulator of enthusiasts,’ and ‘astronomer’; we look upon him as a comical genius, who has contrived to plague the Methodists and their great leader, in the style of an almanack maker, and with all the antiquated jargon of astrology.”[578]

During the month of January, Wesley, besides preaching in London and its immediate vicinity, visited Dorking, High-Wycombe, Oxford, and Witney.

Within three miles of the last mentioned town, at South Leigh, Wesley preached his first sermon, in the year 1725; but, oddly enough, this was the first time that he preached at Witney itself.[579]

Wesley writes: “This is such a people as I have not seen; so remarkably diligent in business, and, at the same time, of so quiet a spirit, and so calm and civil in their behaviour.”

Near to Witney, at Blandford Park, resided Mr. Bolton and his unmarried sister, whose house, for many years, was one of Wesley’s much loved haunts. Miss Bolton was one of Wesley’s favourite correspondents, and Mr. Bolton one of his best local preachers. On one occasion, when the two friends were snugly seated in Mr. Bolton’s parlour, and Wesley, as usual, was employed with his book and pen, the Witney host, wishful to draw his guest into conversation, began remarking how much pleasanter it was to live in the country than in town; “All is silent,” said he, “all retired, and no distracting noises of the busy multitude intrude themselves.” “True, Neddy,” replied Wesley with his usual quickness, “but _noisy thoughts_ may.” The hint sufficed, and Neddy subsided into silence.

On February 2, Wesley reopened the old Foundery, in London, which had been closed, for several weeks, in order to be repaired and otherwise improved. “It is now,” says he, “not only firm and safe, but clean and decent, and capable of receiving several hundreds more.”

On February 6, he opened the new chapel at Wapping. Ten days later, he writes: “I once more took a serious walk through the tombs in Westminster Abbey. What heaps of unmeaning stone and marble! But there was one tomb which showed common sense; that beautiful figure of Mr. Nightingale, endeavouring to screen his lovely wife from death. Here, indeed, the marble seems to speak, and the statues appear only not alive.”

It is well known, that the Rev. Martin Madan, minister at the Lock hospital, and his curate, the Rev. Thomas Haweis, were both most passionately fond of music, and themselves composers.[580] Once a year, their chapel was turned into a concert room for the performance of oratorios; and, on two occasions at least, Wesley was a listener. He writes: “1764, February 29.—I heard ‘Judith,’ an oratorio, performed at the Lock. Some parts of it were exceeding fine; but there are two things in all modern pieces of music, which I could never reconcile to common sense. One is, singing the same words ten times over; the other, singing different words by different persons, at one and the same time. And this, in the most solemn addresses to God, whether by way of prayer or thanksgiving. This can never be defended by all the musicians in Europe, till reason is quite out of date.”

He was present again the year following, when “Ruth” was the oratorio performed, and observed: “The sense was admirable throughout; and much of the poetry not contemptible. This, joined with exquisite music, might possibly make an impression even upon rich and honourable sinners.”

Some will wonder at Wesley attending the performance of oratorios; but why so? Fault may properly be found with Martin Madan for using a place of worship for such performances; but Martin Madan was merely copying the example of his superiors, who, even then, once a year, gave the use of their cathedrals to the choirs of Gloucester, Hereford, and Worcester, for the same musical purposes. Indeed, some of the early Methodists adopted the same doubtful usage. We have before us more than one of Handel’s oratorios, specially printed, for performance in Oldham Street chapel, Manchester, only two or three years after Wesley’s death. All this was dubious; indeed, we venture to designate it desecration. A Christian sanctuary is a place far too sacred to be used as a place of intellectual entertainment, even though, as in the case of Martin Madan, the pleasure be of the most refined and exalted character; but, excepting the fact that a place of worship was turned into a concert hall, who can reasonably find fault with Wesley attending the performance of the oratorios in question? Music was a passion in the Wesley family; and no one felt it stronger than the subject of this memoir. His brother’s sons, Charles and Samuel, were young Mozarts; and his own taste was exquisitely beautiful and pure. The music sung by the first Methodists was music of his own selecting; and, in after years, even he himself marvelled that, without studying the science, his selections had been so classical, and so much in harmony with the severest taste of the greatest masters. In 1768, he wrote: “I was much surprised in reading an ‘Essay on Music,’ written by one who is a thorough master of the subject, to find, that the music of the ancients was as simple as that of the Methodists; that their music wholly consisted of melody, or the arrangement of single notes; that what is now called harmony, singing in parts, the whole of counterpoints and fugues, is quite novel, being never known in the world till the popedom of Leo X.”

On the 12th of March, Wesley commenced his long northern journey, which occupied nearly the next five months. At Stroud, he writes: “How many years were we beating the air in this place! one wrong headed man pulling down all we could build up; but, since he is gone, the word of God takes root, and the society increases both in number and strength.”

At Birmingham, Wesley preached in the chapel which had formerly been a playhouse, and remarks: “Happy would it be, if all the playhouses in the kingdom were converted to so good an use. After service, the mob gathered, and threw dirt and stones at people going out.”

At Dudley, “formerly a den of lions, but now quiet as Bristol, they had just finished their preaching house, which was thoroughly filled.” Mr. Southall and his family were a part of the first society; in his house meetings for prayer were held; and more than once were his window’s smashed, and the congregation cursed with the most bitter oaths and curses.[581]

At Wednesbury, Wesley had the largest congregation he had seen since he left London. The riots here, when Methodism was first introduced, have been already noticed. Suffice it to add further, that a quaker was the means of quelling them. This “Friend” happening to ride through the town, the mob swore he was a preacher, pulled him from his horse, dragged him to a coalpit, and threatened to throw him in. The man of peace availed himself of law, and prosecuted his assailants at the assizes; and, from that time, the tumults of the town subsided.[582]

At Walsall, notwithstanding the inclemency of the season, he had to preach out of doors, at seven o’clock in the morning, the chapel not being able to contain the people. Remembering past scenes, well might Wesley say, “How is Walsall changed! Now has God either tamed the wild beasts, or chained them up!”

On March 26, Wesley paid his first visit to Ashby-de-la-Zouch. The chapel and the chapel yard both were filled; “and I saw,” says Wesley, “but one trifler among them all, which, I understood, was an attorney. Poor man! if men live what I preach, the hope of his gain is lost.”

On leaving Ashby, Wesley went to Derby, and attempted to preach in the market-place, but he no sooner announced his text than the mob raised such a noise, that he found it impossible to make himself heard; and, hence, he quietly retired to the house of Mr. Dobinson, “an innumerable retinue” following after and throwing stones.

At Sheffield, Wesley found about sixty who professed to be entirely sanctified. He writes: “I could not learn, that any among them walk unworthy of their profession. Many watch over them for evil; but they ‘overcome evil with good.’ I found nothing of self conceit, stubbornness, impatience of contradiction, or London enthusiasm, among them.”

From Sheffield, he proceeded to Rotherham, Doncaster, Epworth, and Grimsby. At Rotherham, he preached at the opening of a new chapel, a donkey, who had walked up to the door, being, as he relates, apparently one of his most attentive auditors. At Doncaster, a society had recently been formed, which met in the house of Betty Riley, and had Thomas Naylor as its leader. The rabble were rude and often violent; but truth was mighty, and its triumphs great. On one occasion, in 1765, while Jeremiah Cocker of Sheffield was preaching, a bull was driven up to him; but the preacher quietly laid his hands upon its horns, and continued his discourse. Still, for many years, Methodism in Doncaster was a feeble thing, and even as late as 1793, when it had sixty members, it raised only £1 5_s._ per quarter for the support of the work of God, or about a farthing and a half per member weekly. In reference to Grimsby, Wesley writes: “Grimsby, once the most dead, is now the most lively place in all the country. Here has been a large and swift increase both of the society and hearers, so that the house, though galleries are added, is still too small. The mayor and all the gentry of the town were present; and so was our Lord, in an uncommon manner. Some dropped down as dead; but, after a while, rejoiced with joy unspeakable. One was carried away in violent fits. I went to her after the service. She was strongly convulsed from head to foot, and shrieked out in a dreadful manner. The unclean spirit did tear her indeed: but his reign was not long. In the morning both her soul and body were healed, and she acknowledged both the justice and mercy of God.”

This is a curious entry, which the reader is left to ponder.

Proceeding to Gainsborough, Wesley no sooner began to preach in Sir Nevil Hickman’s hall than a cock began crowing above his head. The noisy rival, however, was speedily dislodged, and the service was carried on in peace. Wesley then went to Hull, and Beverley, at the latter of which places, the original hive of the Methodist congregations was the house of a shoemaker, where “the Culamite preachers,” as the itinerants were called, were often literally besieged by furious rabbles, and became “a hissing” to the people.

Wesley spent nearly a week at York; after which he proceeded to Helmsley, where he found his friend, the Rev. Dr. Conyers, greatly changed. The Calvinists had prejudiced him against the Arminians, and, notwithstanding the warmth of his friendship twelve months before, he was now suspicious, cold, and distant. The itinerant then wended his way to Scarborough, Robin Hood’s Bay, Whitby, Guisborough, Stokesley, Hutton, Potto, Yarm, Stockton, Darlington, Barnard Castle, and Newcastle on Tyne. He also paid a visit to Weardale, a beautiful valley, above twenty miles long, with only five places of religious worship, to which however was now added a Methodist chapel, built at High House in 1760.[583]

After a three weeks’ stay at Newcastle and in its neighbourhood, Wesley set out for Scotland, preaching at Morpeth, Alnwick, and Berwick on his way. Nearly a month was spent in North Britain. At Edinburgh, he attended the sessions of the General Assembly; and, when he preached on Calton Hill, many, of the ministers were there to hear him. With some hesitation, he joined, at the West Kirk, in the celebration of the Lord’s supper. He visited Dundee, Brechin, Aberdeen, Old Meldrum, Banff, Inverness, Nairn, and other places. In several instances, he preached in the parish kirks; and remarks: “There is seldom fear of wanting a congregation in Scotland. But the misfortune is, they know everything; so they learn nothing.” Two months afterwards, he wrote the following, hitherto unpublished, letter to Lady Maxwell, then a young Scotch widow of twenty-two.

“LONDON, _August 17, 1764_.

“MY DEAR LADY,—Since I had the pleasure of yours, I have hardly had an hour that I could call my own, otherwise I would not have delayed writing so long, as I have a tender regard for you, and an earnest desire, that you should be altogether a Christian. I cannot be content with your being ever so harmless, or regular, in your behaviour, or even exemplary in all externals. You have received the fear of God already; but shall you stop here? God forbid! This is only the beginning of wisdom. You are not to end there. Fear shall ripen into love. You shall know (perhaps very soon) that love of God which passeth knowledge. You shall witness the kingdom of God within you, even righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. It is no small instance of the goodness of God toward you, that you are conscious of your want of living faith. And this goodness herein is more remarkable, because almost all your neighbours would set you down for a right good believer. O beware of these flatteries. Hold fast to the convictions which God has given you. Faith,—living, conquering, loving faith, is undoubtedly the thing you want; and of this you have frequently a taste, to encourage you in pressing forward. Such is the tender mercy of Him that loves you! Such His desire, that you should receive all His precious promises! Do not think they are afar off. Do not imagine you must stay long months, or years, before you receive them. Do not put them off a day, an hour. Why not now? Why should you not look up this instant, and see, as it were, Jesus Christ evidently set forth, crucified before your eyes? O hear His voice, ‘Daughter, be of good cheer! thy sins are forgiven thee!’ ‘Say not, in thy heart, who shall go up into heaven, or who shall go down into the deep?’ No! ‘The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth, and in thy heart.’ ‘Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief!’ Joy in the Holy Ghost is a precious gift of God; but, yet, tenderness of conscience is a still greater gift. And all this is for you—just ready.

‘The speechless awe, that dares not move, And all the silent heaven of love.’

“I am no great friend to solitary Christianity. Nevertheless, in so peculiar a case as yours, I think an exception may be admitted. It does seem most expedient for _you_, to retire from Edinburgh, at least for a season, till God has increased your strength. For the company of those who know not God, who are strangers to the religion of the heart, especially if they are sensible, agreeable persons, might quite damp the grace of God in your soul.

“You cannot oblige me more than by telling me all that is in your heart. There is no danger of your tiring me. I do not often write so long letters as this; but when I write to _you_, I am full of matter. I seem to see you just before me,—a poor, feeble, helpless creature, but just upon the point of salvation; upright of heart (in a measure), full of real desires for God, and emerging into light. The Lord take you whole! So prays, my dear lady, your affectionate servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”

Such was Wesley’s encouraging advice to this noble penitent. Soon afterwards, Lady Maxwell became a member of the Methodist society, and continued such until her death in 1810.

Returning to Newcastle, Wesley started, on June 21, for Whitehaven, of whose society he writes: “What has continually hurt this poor people is offence. I found the society now all in confusion, because a woman had scolded with her neighbour, and another had stolen a twopenny loaf. The want of field preaching, also, has been one cause of deadness here. I do not find any great increase of the work of God without it. If ever this is laid aside, I expect the whole work will gradually die away.”

On June 25, he came to Kendal, where “the people had been so harassed by seceders, and disputers of every kind, that they were now dry and dead as stones.” The next day he preached four times, and rode fifty miles, without weariness. He then made his way to Otley, Guiseley, Keighley, Bradford, Birstal, Leeds, Wakefield, Dewsbury, Halifax, Huddersfield, and Manchester. For the last ten days, he had preached three times every day, and many of the times, in the open air. He then proceeded to Bolton, Wigan, Liverpool, Warrington, Chester, Macclesfield, Congleton, Burslem, Madeley, and Shrewsbury. The enumeration of these places will furnish an idea, not only of Wesley’s labours, but of the chief towns where Methodism had been introduced.

From Shrewsbury, he went through Wales to Bristol. On the first day’s journey, he and his companion were in the saddle from four o’clock in the morning till eight at night, when they found they had missed their way. They were told to ride in a certain direction; but their path soon ended in a bog. Then an honest man mounted his horse, and galloped before them, up hill and down, till he brought them into a road, which, he said, led to Roesfair. They rode on, till another met them, and said, “No; this is the way to Aberystwyth. If you would go to Roesfair, you must turn back, and ride down to yonder bridge.” At the bridge, the master of a little public house directed them to the next village, where they inquired again, and were again set exactly wrong. Having wandered an hour upon the mountains, “through rocks, and bogs, and precipices,” they got back to the bridge, whence they had been directed. It was now past ten o’clock, and they had been riding and preaching for the last eighteen hours; but to obtain rest was impracticable; for the public house was full of drunken, roaring miners; and, besides that, there was but one bed in the roadside inn, and neither grass, nor hay, nor corn for cattle. At length, they hired one of the miners, who was “miserably drunk,” to walk with them to Roesfair whither they were travelling. On his way, the man fell all his length into a river, which partly restored his senses. Between eleven and twelve they reached their destination; but, even here, provender for their beasts of burden there was none; and, to make bad things worse, the ostler and the miner, after the travellers were gone to bed, mounted the jaded animals for a ride; and, next morning, the mule of Wesley’s friend was found cut in several places, whilst Wesley’s horse was bleeding from a wound, two inches deep, made, it seemed, by a stroke with a pitchfork. Wesley got safe to Bristol on August 4.

Here we must pause, in his itinerancy, to notice other matters, which occurred during his five months’ journey.

One is a letter referring to exercise on horseback, not inappropriate to the adventure just related. The letter was addressed to his friend, Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell, who had begun to drive his carriage.

“LIVERPOOL, _July 14, 1764_.

“DEAR SIR,—My brother informs me, that you have been so extremely ill, that your life was hardly expected. I really am under apprehensions lest that chariot should cost you your life. If, after having been accustomed to ride on horseback for many years, you should now exchange a horse for a carriage, it cannot be that you should have good health. It is a vain thing to expect it. I judge of your case by my own. I must be on horseback for life, if I would be healthy. Now and then, indeed, if I could afford it, I should rest myself for fifty miles in a chaise; but, without riding near as much as I do now, I must never look for health.

“I am, dear sir,

“Your very affectionate servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[584]

Let the railway riding and carriage driving public of the present day take a hint from this.

Another letter may be inserted here, which shows, that, in the Methodist movement, Wesley was now without a counsellor. His brother, to whom the letter was addressed, had retired into comparative seclusion; and there was no one to occupy his place. The letter also contains historical allusions of considerable importance.

“HADDINGTON, _May 25, 1764_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—Is there any reason why you and I should have no further intercourse with each other? I know none; although possibly there are persons in the world, who would not be sorry for it. I hope you find peace and unity in the south, as we do in the north; only the seceders and Mr. Sandeman’s friends are ready to eat us up. And no wonder; for these, as well as deists and Socinians, I oppose _ex professo_. But how do Thomas Maxfield and his friends go on? quietly, or _gladiatorio animo_? And how are John Jones, Downes, and Richardson? and my best friend, and yours?

“The frightful stories, written from London, had made all our preachers in the north afraid even to mutter about perfection; and, of course, the people, on all sides, were grown good Calvinists in that point. It is what I foresaw from the beginning; that the devil would strive, by Thomas Maxfield and company, to drive perfection out of the kingdom.

“O let you and I hold fast whereunto we have attained; and let our yea be yea, and our nay nay! I feel the want of some about me, that are all faith and love. No man was more profitable to me than George Bell, while he was simple of heart. O for heat and light united! My love to Sally. Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[585]

The next matter to be mentioned was of paramount importance. The desertion of Maxfield, the retirement of Wesley’s brother, and the Greek ordination of John Jones have been already noticed. Just at this juncture, Providence raised up the Rev. John Richardson, a young Yorkshireman, who was episcopally ordained, had a curacy in Sussex, and, in 1762, was made a happy witness of the power of Divine truth under a sermon preached by Thomas Rankin. Within a year after this, Richardson relinquished his curacy, joined the Methodists, and became Wesley’s assistant in London. Still, Wesley, in the spring of 1764, was in the greatest difficulty. He was bound to visit his country societies; his brother declined to supply his place in London, and also objected to John Jones taking any part in administering the sacraments during Wesley’s absence. Things were in this position when Wesley wrote to his brother as follows.

“LONDON, _March 1, 1764_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—You ‘have no thoughts of venturing to London before May!’ Then I must indeed ‘do the best I can.’ So I must comply with the advice of the stewards, as well as my own judgment, and insist upon John Jones’s assisting me on Sunday. I have delayed all this time purely out of tenderness to you. Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[586]

This was bringing the matter to an issue; and Charles Wesley must have felt that, if John Jones, ordained by the dubious Erasmus, was really employed in giving the sacrament to the London Methodists, he had no one to blame except himself. Mr. Jones was so annoyed by Charles Wesley’s opposition, that he left the Methodist connexion, procured reordination from the Bishop of London, and was presented to the living of Harwich.

A fortnight after writing thus to Charles, Wesley went to Bristol, where his brother was residing. “Here,” he says, “I met several serious clergymen. I have long desired, that there might be an open, avowed union between all who preach those fundamental truths—original sin, and justification by faith, producing inward and outward holiness; but all my endeavours have been hitherto ineffectual. God’s time is not fully come.“

Some further explanation of this is necessary. In the spring of the present year, Wesley had a correspondence with the Countess of Huntingdon, and with the Rev. Mr. Hart, of Bristol, respecting the desirability of promoting union among gospel preachers. The following letter has not been previously published; it was addressed to the countess.

“NEWCASTLE, _May 16, 1764_.

“MY DEAR LADY,—I am much obliged to your ladyship for your encouraging answer, which plainly speaks a heart devoted to God, and longing for the furtherance of His kingdom. I have likewise received an exceeding friendly letter from Mr. Hart, testifying a great desire of union among the preachers of the gospel; only he carries the point considerably farther than I do, proposing a free debate concerning our several opinions. Now this, I fear, we are not yet able to bear: I fear it might occasion some sharpness of expression, if not of spirit too, which might tear open the wounds before they are fully closed. I am far from being assured, that I could bear it myself; and perhaps others might be as weak as I. To me, therefore, it still seems most expedient to avoid disputing of every kind: at least, for a season, till we have tasted each other’s spirit, and confirmed our love to each other. I own freely, I am sick of disputing: I am weary to bear it; my whole soul cries out, ‘Peace! Peace!’ at least with the children of God, that we may all unite our strength, to carry on the war against the ‘rulers of the darkness of this world.’ Still I ask but one thing, ‘Is thy _heart_ right, as my heart is with thine?’ If it be, give me thine hand. Let us take ‘sweet counsel together, and strengthen each other in the Lord.’

“And the advantage in the proposal I make is this: if it should be (which God forbid!) that I should find none to join me therein, I will, by God’s help, comply with it myself. None can hinder this; and, I think, my brother will be likeminded, yea, and all who act in connection with us.

“Probably it might contribute much to this end, if those of our brethren who have opportunity would be at Bristol, on Thursday, the 9th of August. We might then spend a few hours in free conversation, either apart from, or in conjunction with, the other preachers. I apprehend, if your ladyship could then be near, it might be of excellent service in confirming any kind and friendly disposition, which our Lord might plant in the hearts of His servants. Surely if this can be effectually done, we shall again see Satan, as lightning, fall from heaven.

“I am, my dear lady, your ladyship’s most affectionate and obedient servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”

Previous to this, on April 19, while at Scarborough, Wesley had drawn up a letter, which he subsequently sent to about fifty clergymen, bearing on the subject of Christian union. It is said[587] that this letter had been submitted to Lord Dartmouth more than two years previous to this; be that as it may, it was now forwarded to the clergymen who were preaching the doctrines above mentioned. These included Messrs. Perronet, Romaine, Newton, Shirley, Adam, Fletcher, Baddiley, Roquet, Sellon, Venn, Richardson, Furley, Conyers, Berridge, and Hicks, all of whom have been alluded to in previous pages of the present history. Besides these, there were Mr. Colley, occasionally one of Wesley’s assistants; Mr. Jesse, perpetual curate of West Bromwich; Mr. Talbot, vicar of St. Giles’s, Reading; Mr. Stillingfleet, of Shawbury; Mr. Andrews, vicar of Stinchcombe; Mr. Jane, vicar of Acton; Mr. Hart, vicar of St. George’s, Bristol; Mr. Browne, vicar of Olney; Mr. Burnett, vicar of Elland, Yorkshire; Mr. Bentley, curate of Dr. Conyers; and Messrs. Downing, Riland, Johnson, Symes, and King, of whom we know nothing.

After mentioning the above clergymen as agreeing in the three essentials—(1) original sin; (2) justification by faith; and (3) holiness of life—Wesley proceeds to state:

“I do not desire a union of opinions among these. They might agree or disagree, touching absolute decrees on the one hand, and perfection on the other. Not a union in expressions. These may still speak of the imputed righteousness, and those of the merits of Christ. Not a union with regard to outward order. Some may remain still quite regular, some quite irregular; and some partly regular, and partly irregular. But these things being as they are, as each is persuaded in his own mind, is it not a most desirable thing that we should—

“1. Remove hindrances out of the way? Not judge one another, not despise one another, not envy one another? Not be displeased at one another’s gifts or success, even though greater than our own? Not wait for one another’s halting, much less wish for it, or rejoice therein?

“Never speak disrespectfully, slightly, coldly, or unkindly of each other; never repeat each other’s faults, mistakes, or infirmities, much less listen for and gather them up; never say or do anything to hinder each other’s usefulness, either directly or indirectly? Is it not a most desirable thing that we should—

“2. Love as brethren? Think well of and honour one another? Wish all good, all grace, all gifts, all success, yea, greater than our own, to each other? Expect God will answer our wish, rejoice in every appearance thereof, and praise Him for it? Readily believe good of each other, as readily as we once believed evil?

“Speak respectfully, honourably, kindly of each other; defend each other’s character; speak all the good we can of each other; recommend one another where we have influence; each help the other on in his work, and enlarge his influence by all the honest means he can?

“This is the union which I have long sought after; and is it not the duty of every one of us so to do? Would it not be far better for ourselves? a means of promoting both our holiness and happiness? Would it not remove much guilt from those who have been faulty in any of these instances? and much pain from those who have kept themselves pure? Would it not be far better for the people, who suffer severely from the clashings and contentions of their leaders, which seldom fail to occasion many unprofitable, yea hurtful, disputes among them? Would it not be better even for the poor blind world, robbing them of their sport, ‘Oh, they cannot agree among themselves!’ Would it not be better for the whole work of God, which would then deepen and widen on every side?

“‘But it will never be; it is utterly impossible.’ Certainly it is with men. Who imagines we can do this? that it can be effected by any human power? All nature is against it; every infirmity, every wrong temper and passion; love of honour and praise, of power, of preeminence, anger, resentment, pride; long contracted habit and prejudice lurking in ten thousand forms. The devil and all his angels are against it. For if this takes place, how shall his kingdom stand? All the world, all that know not God, are against it, though they may seem to favour it for a season. Let us settle this in our hearts, that we may be utterly cut off from all dependence on our own strength or wisdom.

“But surely ‘with God all things are possible’; therefore ‘all things are possible to him that believeth’; and this union is proposed only to them that believe, that show their faith by their works.

“When Mr. C.” [Conyers?] “was objecting the impossibility of ever effecting such a union, I went upstairs, and, after a little prayer, opened Kempis on these words:—‘_Expecta Dominum: viriliter age: noli diffidere: noli discedere: sed corpus et animam expose constanter pro gloria Dei_.’

“I am, dear sir, your affectionate servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”

Will it be believed that, though this superlatively Christian letter was sent to about fifty _evangelical_ clergymen, only three of them condescended to return an answer? This brotherly union was the chief subject discussed at the conference, which commenced in Bristol on the 6th of August. In describing its proceedings Wesley writes: “The great point I now laboured for was a good understanding with all our brethren of the clergy, who are heartily engaged in propagating vital religion.” A dozen of the clergymen, to whom Wesley’s circular had been sent, attended the conference; but for what purpose? John Pawson, who was present, says:

“In the year 1764, twelve of those gentlemen attended our conference in Bristol, in order to prevail with Mr. Wesley to withdraw the preachers from every parish where there was an awakened minister; and Mr. Charles Wesley honestly told us, that if he was a settled minister in any particular place, we should not preach there. To whom Mr. Hampson replied, ‘I would preach there, and never ask your leave, and should have as good a right to do so as you would have.’ Mr. Charles Wesley’s answer was in a strain of high church eloquence indeed! but I leave it. His prediction was never accomplished, nor ever can be. However, these gentlemen failed in their attempt that time; Mr. Wesley would not give up his societies to them.”[588]

With this glimpse of the finale of Wesley’s Christian proposal, we must now rest satisfied. He did his duty; but only three, even of the best clergy in the land, were prepared to cooperate with him.

It has been hinted, that Wesley’s circular was, in the first instance, submitted to Lord Dartmouth, the great friend of the Countess of Huntingdon, and the principal patron of the evangelical clergy of that period. There can be little doubt that it was so; and that another epistle on the same subject, dated “July 26, 1764,” was addressed to the same nobleman. Without quoting that part of the letter which gives the history of Wesley’s proposal for union, we merely furnish the two concluding paragraphs, and chiefly because they are strikingly characteristic of the writer’s almost rough fidelity and courage.

“If your lordship has heard any objections” [to the proposed union], “I should be glad to know them. May I be permitted to ask, Have not the objections you have heard made some impression upon your lordship? Have they not occasioned, if I may speak freely, your lordship’s standing aloof from me? Why do I ask? Indeed, not upon my own account. ‘_Quid mea? Ego in portu navigo._’ I can truly say, I neither fear nor desire anything from your lordship: to speak a rough truth, I do not desire any intercourse with any persons of quality in England. I mean, for my own sake; they do me no good, and I fear I can do none to them. If it be desired, I will readily leave all those to the care of my fellow labourers; I will article with them so to do, rather than this shall be any bone of contention.

“Were I not afraid of giving your lordship pain, I would speak yet still further. Methinks, you desire I should; that is, to tell you once for all, every thought that rises in my heart. I will then. At present I do not want _you_, but I really think you want _me_. For have you a person, in all England, who speaks to your lordship so plain and downright as I do? who considers not the _peer_, but the _man_? not the _earl_, but the _immortal spirit_? who rarely commends, but often blames, and perhaps would do it oftener if you desired it? who is jealous over you with a godly jealousy, lest you should be less a Christian by being a nobleman, lest, after having made a fair advance towards heaven, you should measure back your steps to earth again? O my lord, is not such a person as this needful for you in the highest degree? If you have any such, I have no more to say, but that I pray God to bless him to your soul. If you have not, despise not the assistance which it may please God to give you by, my lord,

“Your lordship’s ready servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[589]

We must now hastily trace Wesley’s footsteps during the remainder of the year 1764.

The conference in Bristol being ended, he came to London on August 11. On the 18th he preached, for the first time, in the new chapel at Snowsfields. On the 20th, he says: “I went to Canterbury, and opened our new chapel there.[590] How is it, that many protestants, even in England, do not know that no other consecration of church or chapel is allowed, much less required, in England, than the performance of public worship therein? This is the only consecration of any church in Great Britain which is necessary, or even lawful. It is true, Archbishop Laud composed a form of consecration; but it was never allowed, much less established, in England. Let this be remembered by all who talk so idly of preaching in unconsecrated places!”

On September 3, Wesley returned to Bristol, in the neighbourhood of which he spent the next month, meeting classes and preaching. On Saturday, October 6, he got back to London; preached the next day thrice, and administered the Lord’s supper; and then, a little before midnight, started, by coach, for Norwich, whose society he pronounced the most changeable in all England. In 1759, when James Wheatley’s tabernacle and congregation were taken, there were 760 Norwich Methodists; in two years, the 760 were reduced to 412; a year afterwards they became 630; and now, two years later, they were only 174.

It was during this Norfolk visitation, that Wesley preached, for the first time, at Lowestoft. He writes: “a wilder congregation I have not seen; but the bridle was in their teeth. All attended, and a considerable part seemed to understand something of what was spoken.”

On his return to London, Wesley called the leaders together, and proposed a scheme for defraying the debts on the London chapels, now about _£_900; and, in six days, by a personal canvas, he raised nearly two thirds of that amount. “What was done,” says he, “was done with the utmost cheerfulness. I remember but one exception; only one gentleman squeezed out ten shillings as so many drops of blood.” Wesley also met the London preachers, every morning, to read with them his “Compendium of Natural Philosophy.” He employed his spare moments in writing; and made short tours to Kent, Sussex, and Essex, for the purpose of visiting his societies there. In this diversified employment, the year was ended.

The amount of labour through which Wesley passed was almost incredible. His preaching, his travelling, his society visitations, his writing and publishing, were enough to have occupied half-a-dozen ordinary men; but to all these must be added his correspondence, and his having to give counsel to all sorts of people, and on all sorts of matters. Even this, single and alone, was no trifle, as will be seen by what follows, and which may be taken as fair specimens of things constantly occurring.

For a quarter of a century, Wesley and his brother had bestowed a large amount of ministerial labour on the inhabitants of Bristol; and it was undeniable, that their services had produced incalculable good. Under such circumstances, there was no presumption in their occasionally taking part in the public business of the city. This they did in 1764. At that time, the Bristol Methodists were alarmed by a proposal to build a new theatre. Charles Wesley and others thought it desirable to send to the Bristol corporation a formal petition against the proposal. Wesley himself thought, that he and his brother were sufficiently well known in Bristol to render a formal petition needless; and that a letter, written on behalf of the Bristol Methodists, would do quite as well. Hence the following, addressed “to the mayor and corporation of Bristol.”

“LONDON, _December 20, 1764_.

“GENTLEMEN,—Both my brother and I, and all who have any connection with us, are extremely sensible of our obligations to you, for the civility which you have shown us on all occasions; and we cannot but feel ourselves deeply interested in whatever we apprehend, in any degree, to concern your honour, or the general good and prosperity of the city of Bristol. This occasions my giving you the present trouble, which, whether it has any further effect or no, you will please to receive as a testimony of the high regard which we shall ever retain for you.

“The endeavours lately used to procure subscriptions for building a new playhouse, in Bristol, have given us not a little concern; and that on various accounts: not barely as most of the present stage entertainments sap the foundation of all religion, as they naturally tend to efface all traces of piety and seriousness out of the minds of men; but as they are peculiarly hurtful to a trading city; giving a wrong turn to youth especially, gay, trifling, and directly opposite to the spirit of industry and close application to business; and as drinking and debauchery of every kind are constant attendants on these entertainments, with indolence, effeminacy, and idleness, which affect trade in a high degree.

“It was on these very considerations, that the corporation of Nottingham lately withstood all solicitations, and absolutely forbade the building of a new theatre there; and I doubt not but thousands will reap the benefit of their wise and generous resolution.

“It does not become me, gentlemen, to press anything upon you; but I could not avoid saying thus much, both in behalf of myself and all my friends. Wishing you the continuance and increase of every blessing,

“I remain, gentlemen, your obliged and obedient servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[591]

Before leaving Bristol, another of Wesley’s papers may be inserted here, for, though without date, it seems to have been written about the year 1764. It is, in point of fact, a pastoral address, and one of the first that Methodism ever issued. The reader will perceive, that it refers to bribery, smuggling, sacraments, books, class-meetings, and connexional debts.

“_To the Societies at Bristol._

“MY DEAR BRETHREN,—I was much comforted among you when I was with you last; finding my labour had not been in vain. Many of you I found rejoicing in God your Saviour, walking in the light of His countenance, and studying to have a conscience void of offence towards God and man. In order to assist you therein, suffer me to remind you of a few things, which, I think, are of no small concern, in order to your retaining the life of faith, and the testimony of a good conscience towards God.

“1. For God’s sake, for the honour of the gospel, for your country’s sake, and for the sake of your own souls, beware of bribery. Before you see me again, the trial will come at the general election for members of parliament. On no account, take money, or money’s worth. Keep yourselves pure. Give, not sell, your vote. Touch not the accursed thing, lest it bring a blast upon you and your household.

“2. Have nothing to do with stolen goods. Neither sell nor buy anything that has not paid the duty. No, not if you could have it at half price. Defraud not the king, any more than your fellow subject. Never think of being religious unless you are honest. What has a thief to do with religion? Herein mind not men, but the word of God; and whatever others do, keep yourselves pure.

“3. Lose no opportunity of receiving the sacrament. All who have neglected this have suffered loss. Most of them are as dead as stones; therefore be you constant herein, not only for example, but for the sake of your own souls.

“4. To the public, constantly add the private means of grace,

## particularly prayer and reading. Most of you have been greatly wanting

in this; and, without this, you can never grow in grace. You may as well expect a child to grow without food, as a soul without private prayer; and reading is an excellent help to this. I advise you to read, in particular, constantly and carefully, the New Testament; ‘Lessons for Children,’ which are all the choicest parts of the Old Testament, with short notes; ‘Instructions for Children,’ which are a body of divinity for plain people; and that golden treatise, ‘The Christian Pattern’; the ‘Plain Account of the Methodists.’ No Methodist ought to be without these, nor the ‘Primitive Physic,’ which (if you have any regard for your bodies, or your children) ought to be in every house. To all that can understand it, I recommend one book more, ‘The Preservative against unsettled Notions’; a book which, by the blessing of God, may help you from being tossed about with divers winds of doctrines. Permit me to give you one advice more under this head: do not encourage young raw men to exhort among you. It does little good either to you or them. Rather, in every society, where you have not an experienced preacher, let one of the leaders read the Notes, or the Christian Library. By this the wisest among you may profit much; a thousand times more than by listening to forward youths, who neither speak English nor common sense.

“5. Let all of you, who have faith, meet in band, without excuse and without delay. There has been a shameful neglect of this. Remove this scandal. As soon as the assistant has fixed your band, make it a point of conscience never to miss without an absolute necessity; and the preacher’s meeting you all together one night out of two will be an additional blessing.

“6. If you constantly meet your band, I make no doubt that you will constantly meet your class; indeed, otherwise you are not of our society. Whoever misses his class thrice together thereby excludes himself; and the preacher that comes next ought to put out his name. I wish you would consider this. Halt not between two. Meet the brethren, or leave them. It is not honest to profess yourself of a society, and not observe the rules of it. Be therefore consistent with yourself. Never miss your class till you miss it for good and all. And when you meet it, be merciful after your power; give as God enables you. If you are not in pressing want, give something, and you will be no poorer for it. Grudge not, fear not; lend unto the Lord, and He will surely repay. If you earn but three shillings a week, and give a penny out of it, you will never want. But I do not say this to you who have ten or fifteen shillings a week, and give only a penny! To see this has often grieved my spirit. I have been ashamed for you, if you have not been ashamed for yourself. Why, by the same rule that you give a penny, that poor man should give a peppercorn! O be ashamed before God and man! Be not straitened in your own bowels. Give in proportion to your substance. You can better afford a shilling than he a penny. This is more to him than that to you. Open your eyes, your heart, your hand. If this one rule was observed, throughout England, we should need no other collection. It would soon form a stock sufficient to relieve all that want, and to answer all occasions. Many of these occasions are now exceeding pressing, and we are nowise able to answer them; so that the cause of God suffers, and the children of God, and that without remedy.

“7. This is, in great measure, owing to our not considering ourselves (all the Methodists) as one body. Such undoubtedly they are throughout Great Britain and Ireland; and, as such, they were considered at our last conference. We then seriously considered the heavy burden which now lies on our brethren in various parts. When we could hire no place that could contain the congregation, they were constrained to build; but hereby they were unavoidably involved in debt, some of them to the amount of several hundred pounds. The assistants were desired to lay this case before all our brethren in England, and to receive what each of them were willing to give, either at that time, or at Easter, or Midsummer. But the greater part of them thought no more about it. Four or five of them did, and brought in all about £200 at our last conference. This was divided among our societies who were most distressed; and all the assistants were desired, when they visit the classes at Christmas, to ask each particular person, poor or rich, ‘What will you give towards the relief of the brethren? Give either now, or at Easter, or at Midsummer; it is all one.’ If this be done in good earnest, I trust, in two or three years, all our societies may be out of debt. And by this shall all men know whose disciples we are, because we love one another.

“8. I mention but one thing more. Let all, who are able, constantly attend the morning preaching. Whenever the Methodist preachers or people leave off this, they will soon sink into nothing.

“I am, my dear brethren, your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[592]

This was plain speaking,—a pastoral address which even the Methodist conference of the present day would hardly have courage to imitate.

Another matter must have attention. Under the date of “December 1, 1764,” Wesley writes: “M. B—— gave me a further account of their affairs at Leytonstone. It is exactly _Pietas Hallensis_ in miniature. What it will be, does not yet appear.”

“M. B.” was Mary Bosanquet. Either she or Wesley published, in 1764, a 12mo tract of twenty-three pages, with the title, “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley. By a Gentlewoman. London. Sold at the Foundery, in Upper Moorfields.” The letter is dated “_Laton_-Stone, November 8, 1764,” and gives the reasons why Miss Bosanquet had fixed her home at Leytonstone, and the nature of her employment there. She and her friend Sarah Ryan had commenced meetings for reading and prayer; then, they obtained the service of some of Wesley’s preachers; and then two classes were formed. Then she took into her house a number of destitute orphan children, and engaged a person to teach them. The design was to fit them for good servants, and her endeavour was, “to inure them to labour, early rising, and cleanliness.” Three of them, who were eleven years of age, rose at four in the morning, and lighted the fires. At five, the others were called. When the lesser children were dressed, and had said their prayers, they went into the garden from six till half-past six o’clock, the elder ones being employed in making beds and cleaning rooms. At half-past six, they had household prayer; at seven, breakfast, “two or three upon herb tea, the rest upon milk porridge.” From eight to twelve, was spent in school; when, after a few minutes devoted to the exercise of prayer, the pupils all came to Miss Bosanquet, who read to them, and otherwise instructed them. At one, they dined; at two, school duties were recommenced and were continued until five. At six, they supped; and at seven went to bed. No one was allowed to give them toys; and their recreation was, either running in the garden for a quarter of an hour, or in watering the plants and flowers.

To feed, clothe, and educate such a number of children involved a greater expense than Miss Bosanquet had means to meet; and, hence, she put up a box in the hall with the inscription,—“For the maintenance of a few poor orphans, that they may be brought up in the fear of the Lord”; and, in this way, she obtained assistance for her Methodist orphanage. She was often in straits; sometimes her fund was reduced to a single penny, and she had considerable bills to meet; but, as in the case of the orphanage at Halle, and the present one at Bristol, help always came when needed.

Such was Miss Bosanquet’s “_Pietas Hallensis_ in miniature.” Her tract is a rich, religious curiosity, strongly reminding the reader of the marvellous publications of Mr. Muller, and of August Herman Francke.

A list of the evangelical clergy of the country, to whom Wesley addressed his circular on union, is given in a previous page; but, remarkably enough, one name of considerable distinction is omitted,—the name of the Rev. Thomas Hartley, M.A., rector of Winwick, in Northamptonshire. Mr. Hartley was a friend of the Countess of Huntingdon, and of the Shirley family. He was a man of learning; and of strong, cultivated mind. He was an earnest, devout, energetic Christian; an able, liberal, unbigoted minister; and an author whose style is clear and forcible, and sometimes eloquent; and whose valuable works are still well worth reading. Mr. Hartley, however, was a millenarian and a mystic. In 1764, he published an octavo volume of 476 pages, entitled, “Paradise Restored: or, A Testimony to the Doctrine of the blessed Millennium: with some Considerations on its approaching Advent from the Signs of the Times. To which is added, A Short Defence of the Mystical Writers, against a late Work, entitled, ‘The Doctrine of Grace,’ etc.”

To begin with the last work first. There can be no question, that Mr. Hartley was a most ardent admirer of Jacob Behmen, Dr. Henry More, Madame Bourignon, and Mr. Law. In the last paragraph of his Defence, he tells us that “Divine charity is the great compass by which the mystics steer; it is their very polestar; nay, their latitude, and longitude, and centre too: their employment and delight is love; their hearts and every pulse beat love; it is the element of their life, their _summum bonum_, and their _summum totum_. Perhaps the very angels stretch not farther into the vast expanse of love than some of these have done.” And then he proceeds to state that, in the exercise of this charity, some of them “hope that Jesus Christ will, in some remote age of eternity, by an omnipotent act of His love, reverse the sentence, which strict justice has passed on fallen men and fallen angels; and will give to them repentance, add to their repentance faith, and to their faith charity; that so, blessed again with the renewal of the Divine image, they may rise from their beds of penal, long enduring fire, to join the heavenly host, in praises to the eternal King; no longer peccable as before; but standing firm on the sure basis of never ceasing, ever grateful love. Amen.”

The Defence was professedly a reply to Bishop Warburton; and hence, though he says there are “many instances in Wesley’s numerous writings of injudicious and wrong applications of Scripture,” yet they are all used “seriously and in the fear of God.”

“Whatever be the errors and the faults of Wesley, he is an able minister, has been abundant in labours, and has turned many to righteousness; and therefore deserves honourable mention instead of scurrilous treatment. Had Mr. Whitefield and Mr. Wesley gone on to build up, as they laid the foundation, their adversaries would not have been able to stand before them; but here they failed, and fell into divisions, fierce disputings, and errors in doctrine; and their uncharitable censurings of others have brought more than double upon themselves; and yet I lay not this to the charge of all the Methodists. What cause had Mr. Wesley, among others, for that obloquy he pours on these excellent men, the mystics, who teach the way to Christian perfection on surer principles than he has yet done, and, I believe, attained to higher degrees of it? What is most excellent among the Methodists comes the nearest to what is laid down in their spiritual writings; and had Mr. Wesley studied them more himself, and brought his hearers acquainted with them, they might not have stopped so short as, in general, they have done, but have grown up into a higher stature of Christian life and Divine knowledge.”

Wesley read Mr. Hartley’s strictures. What was his reply?

“_March 27, 1764._

“DEAR SIR,—I thank you for your remarks on that bad performance of the Bishop of Gloucester, which undoubtedly tears up, by the roots, all real, internal religion. Yet, at the same time, I cannot but bewail your vehement attachment to the mystic writers: with whom I conversed much for several years, and whom I then admired, perhaps, more than you do now. But I found, at length, an absolute necessity of giving up either them or the Bible. So, after some time, I fixed my choice, to which I hope to adhere to my life’s end. It is only the extreme attachment to these, which can account for the following words (in your Defence): ‘Mr. Wesley does, in several parts of his Journals, lay down some marks of the new birth, not only doubtful, but exceptionable; as particularly where persons appear agitated or convulsed, under the ministry; which might be owing to other causes rather than any regenerating work of God’s Spirit.’

“Is this true? In what _one_ part of my Journals do I lay down any doubtful, much less exceptionable, marks of the new birth? In _no_

## part do I lay down those agitations or convulsions as any mark of it

at all; nay, I _expressly declare_ the contrary, in those very words which the bishop himself cites from my Journal. I declare, ‘these are of a disputable nature; they may be from God; they may be from nature; they may be from the devil.’ How is it, then, that you tell all the world, ‘Mr. Wesley lays them down in his Journals, as marks of the new birth’?

“Is it _kind_? Would it not have been far more kind, suppose I had spoken wrong, to tell me of it in a _private_ manner? How much more unkind was it, to accuse me, to all the world, of a fault which I never committed!

“Is it _wise_ thus to put a sword into the hand of our common enemy? Are we not both fighting the battle of our Lord, against the world, as well as the flesh and the devil? And shall I furnish them with weapons against _you_, or you against _me_? Fine diversion for the children of the devil! And how much more would they be diverted, if _I_ would furnish my quota of the entertainment, by falling upon _you_ in return! But I bewail the change in your spirit. You have not gained _more_ lowliness or meekness since I knew you! Oh beware! You did not use to _despise_ any one. This you have _gained_ from the authors you admire. They do not express _anger_ towards their opponents, but _contempt_, in the highest degree. And this, I am afraid, is far more antichristian, more diabolical, than the other. The God of love deliver you and me from this spirit, and fill us with the mind that was in Christ! So prays, dear sir, your still affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[593]

Five years after this, Wesley published the thirteenth number of his Journal, in which the following entry occurs.

“1764, February 5.—I began Mr. Hartley’s ingenious ‘Defence of the Mystic Writers.’ But it does not satisfy me. I must still object—1. To their sentiments. The chief of them do not appear to me to have any conception of church communion. Again: they slight not only works of piety, the ordinances of God, but even works of mercy; and yet most of them, yea, all that I have seen, hold justification by works. In general, they are ‘wise above what is written,’ indulging themselves in many unscriptural speculations. I object—2. To their spirit. Most of them are of a dark, shy, reserved, unsociable temper; and are apt to despise all who differ from them, as carnal, unenlightened men. I object—3. To their whole phraseology. It is both unscriptural, and affectedly mysterious. I say, affectedly; for this does not necessarily result from the nature of the thing spoken of. St. John speaks as high and as deep things as Jacob Behmen. Why then does not Jacob speak as plain as he?”

It has been already stated, that Mr. Hartley was, not only a mystic, but a millenarian; and we feel it right to add, that his “Paradise Restored,” making 356 pages, octavo, is, by far, the most sober, sensible, scriptural, and learned work on the millennium that it has been our lot to read. He professes to show “the great importance of the doctrine of Christ’s glorious reign on earth with His saints”; and maintains that “it was typified in many of the Levitical institutes; was foretold and described in numberless places by the inspired prophets; was made the subject of many precious promises in the gospel; was delineated in the Revelation of St. John; and was received as an apostolical doctrine by the primitive Christians, according to the testimony of several of the ancient fathers,” as St. Barnabas, St. Hermas, Justin Martyr, Irenæus, Tertullian, Origen, and Lactantius. He further argues, that the doctrine received the sanction of the Council of Nice, called by Constantine the Great, and composed of bishops from all parts of the Christian world; and that it is embodied in the Catechism of King Edward VI., which was revised by English bishops, and published, by royal authority, in the last year of King Edward’s reign.

His arguments, to illustrate the importance of the doctrine, are, to say the least, exceedingly ingenious and able, but far too elaborated to be condensed in a work like this. His theory is substantially the same as that of the millenarians of the present day; without, however, many of the minute whimsies which foolish and fanatical people attach to it. Having, as he thinks, established his doctrine, Mr. Hartley proceeds to answer objections; and concludes with a chapter on “the signs of the times.”

It is difficult, and almost impossible, in our limited space, to give the chief points of Mr. Hartley’s millenarian creed; but the following are some of them:—1. That Christ will come a second time, and will set up a kingdom, and _visibly_ reign on the earth for a thousand years. 2. That, during this reign, His saints will be raised and be restored to the perfection of the first man, Adam; and earth all over will be made a copy of the primeval paradise. 3. That, during this millenarian theocracy, saints will flourish, and sinners be in absolute subjection: hostility and discord will cease, and all things harmonize in unity and peace. 4. That some of the saints will be crowned and sit on thrones; some be set over ten cities, and some over five; some will sit at table with Christ, and others serve; some follow Him whithersoever He goes, and others come periodically to worship in His presence. There are other topics on which Mr. Hartley claims the right to hold a private opinion; but which he does not attempt decisively to prove: such as—1. The duration of this holy empire. 2. Whether the administration of it will be under the constant abiding presence of our Lord’s visible humanity, or only occasional manifestations of it; whilst the government for the most part may devolve upon apostles and patriarchs, as His viceregents, under the immediate influences of His Holy Spirit. 3. Whether the universal conflagration will be before or after the millennial reign. 4. Whether the subjects of this kingdom will consist only of the saints who are living at the time of Christ’s second advent, and of some others, as martyrs, who will then be raised from the dead; or whether there will not be a continued succession of the redeemed ones raised, according to their order and time. 5. Whether the account of Gog and Magog, spoken of in Revelation xx., may not be understood to mean that, “as a great part of the world never heard of Christ, and yet the gospel was to be preached in all the world, for a witness to all nations,—so those, who have died in ignorance of the Christian dispensation, will be raised to spend, in the uttermost parts of the earth, another period of probation; they will have the gospel preached to them by emissaries from the millenarian kingdom; many will believe, be converted, and have their portion with the saved; but many will be seduced by Satan, on his enlargement at the end of the thousand years; will invade Christ’s glorious kingdom; and will be destroyed by fire, as mentioned in the Revelation.”

These are a few of the salient points of Mr. Hartley’s learned and able book. Why are they enumerated here? Because, in substance, they were held by Wesley. Wesley read the book, and read it with approbation. He writes to the author: “Your book on the millennium was lately put into my hands. I cannot but thank you for your strong and seasonable confirmation of that comfortable doctrine: of which I cannot entertain the least doubt, as long as I believe the Bible.”[594]

With such a statement, in reference to such a book, there can be no doubt, that Wesley, like his father before him, was a millenarian, a believer in the second advent of Christ, to _reign_ on earth, visibly and gloriously, for a thousand years.

This is a matter which none of Wesley’s biographers have noticed; and, yet, the above is not the only evidence in support of it. In his letter to Dr. Middleton, published in 1749, he refers to the millenarian creed of Justin Martyr, namely, that, at Christ’s second coming, the martyrs will be raised, and, for a thousand years, will reign, with Christ, in Jerusalem, which will be then rebuilt, enlarged, and richly adorned, according to the prophets (Isaiah lxv.); and that, at the end of the thousand years, there will be a universal resurrection, in order to the final judgment. These were the views of Justin Martyr;[595] views which, Wesley says, Justin deduced from the prophets and the apostles, and which were also adopted by the fathers of the second and third centuries. In fact, “to say, that they believed this, was neither more nor less than to say, they believed the Bible.”[596] There is also a remarkable article in Wesley’s _Arminian Magazine_, for 1784 (page 154), on “The Renovation of all Things,”—in which it is argued, that, according to prophetic promises, there will be a middle period “between the present pollution, corruption, and degradation” of the earth, “and that of a total, universal restoration of all things, in a purely angelical, celestial, ethereal state;” and that, in this middle period, “between these two extremes,” the earth will be restored to its “paradisaical state,” and be “renewed in its primitive lustre and beauty.”

These are facts in Wesley’s history with which the reader must deal as he thinks proper. It is no part of our present plan, either to defend or condemn Wesley’s doctrines; but simply and honestly to supply the incidents of his wondrous history. There is no evidence to prove, that Wesley held many of the wild whimsies of the millenarians of the present age, or that he ever pretended to fix the date of Christ’s second coming. “I have no opinion at all,” said he, “upon when the millennial reign of Christ will begin; I can determine nothing at all about it; these calculations are far above, out of my sight.”[597] Still, Wesley was a believer in the certainty of such a reign; and so was Fletcher, as we have already seen; and so was Wesley’s friend, the vicar of Bexley, Mr. Piers;[598] and so seem to have been the writers of some of the hymns in the Methodist hymn-book. The following are quotations from the book, published by Wesley himself, in 1787.

“Lo! He comes with clouds descending, Once for favoured sinners slain! Thousand, thousand saints attending, Swell the triumph of His train. Hallelujah! God _appears on earth to reign_.”

“O might we quickly find The place for us designed! See the long expected day Of our full redemption _here_! Let the shadows flee away; Let the _new-made world appear_! High on Thy great white throne, O King of saints, _come down_! In the _New Jerusalem_ Now triumphantly _descend_; Let the final trump proclaim Joys begun, which ne’er shall end.”

Was Wesley right in this, or was he wrong? This is a point which those who are learned in theological disputes must be left to determine. References may be made to his notes on Revelation xx.; and to his sermons on “The Great Assize,” “The General Deliverance,” “The General Spread of the Gospel,” and “The New Creation”; and, in some of them, statements may be found scarcely harmonizing with the millenarian theory; but these are matters which we leave to those who take a deeper interest in the millenarian theory than ourselves. We have tried to furnish facts, and must now pass to something else.

In 1764, as in former years, the press was not idle in its attacks on Methodism. The following pamphlets belong to this period. 1. “A Sovereign Remedy for the Cure of Hypocrisy, and Blind Zeal. By an Enemy to Pious Fraud,”—a shilling production, which assailed the Methodists with more fury than force. 2. “The Methodist Instructed: or the absurdity and inconsistency of their principles demonstrated. In a letter to the Brethren at Gravesend. By Philagathus Cantabrigiensis.” 3. “Enthusiasm Delineated: or, the absurd conduct of the Methodists displayed. In a letter to the Rev. Messrs. Whitefield and Wesley. By a Blacksmith.”

Besides these, there was also issued a small 12mo volume of 103 pages, with the title, “A Conference, between a Mystic, an Hutchinsonian, a Calvinist, a Methodist, and Others. Wherein the tenets of each are examined and confuted. By William Dodd, M.A., prebend of Brecon, and chaplain in ordinary to his majesty.” So far as Wesley is concerned, the object of Dr. Dodd is to prove, that Wesley and the Methodists are _real_ separatists from the Church of England. “They have broken loose from all obedience to their ordinary; they have entirely leaped over all parochial unity and communion; they have built and continually preach in conventicles, under a licence, as Dissenters; they disuse the liturgy of the Church of England; they preach in all places without reserve; and, what is worst of all, and a source of innumerable evils, they employ and send forth laymen, of the most unlettered sort, to preach the gospel, without any authority from God or man. After all this, to hear such men disclaiming separation has something in it so double and offensive, as to raise the indignation of every serious and reasonable Christian.” It is further alleged, by his majesty’s chaplain, at that time one of the most popular preachers in London, that “Wesley fights against everybody. Indeed, not only is his hand against every man, and every man’s hand against him, but his own hand is also against himself. His writings abundantly contradict themselves; and it would be no hard matter to set _John_ against _Wesley_, and _Wesley_ against _John_.”

Others, besides Dr. Dodd, took the liberty of accusing Wesley of self contradiction. The reader will remember that, in 1755, the Rev. James Hervey published his “Theron and Aspasio,” having previously sent the first three dialogues to Wesley for his revision. In the year following, after reading the entire work, Wesley wrote a long letter to Hervey, giving, with his accustomed brevity, his criticisms on the whole.[599] In 1758, he published this critique, in his “Preservative against unsettled Notions in Religion.” Hervey was greatly mortified and offended; and, at once, set to work, to reply to Wesley, and to defend his “Theron and Aspasio.” In this instance, he submitted his manuscript to Wesley’s old antagonist, the Rev. William Cudworth. Hervey died on Christmas day, 1758,[600] almost before his work was finished, and certainly before it had received its final revision. Cudworth was extremely anxious to have it published, and wrote to the dying man to that effect. Hervey’s answer, ten days before his death, was the following.

“_December 15, 1758._

“DEAR MR. CUDWORTH,—I am so weak, I am scarcely able to write my name,

“JAMES HERVEY.”[601]

On the evening before he died, his brother asked him, “Whether he would have the letters to Mr. Wesley published after his death?” He answered, “By no means, because he had only transcribed about half of them fair for the press; and because the corrections and alterations of the latter part were mostly in a shorthand, entirely his own, and which others would not be able to decipher. Therefore, as it is not a finished piece, I desire you will think no more about it.”[602]

Notwithstanding this request, however, the work was published, it is said surreptitiously, in 1764, and again, by Hervey’s brother, in 1765, in a 12mo volume of 297 pages, with the title, “Eleven Letters from the late Rev. Mr. Hervey, to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley; containing an Answer to that Gentleman’s Remarks on ‘Theron and Aspasio.’ Published from the author’s manuscript, left in the possession of his brother, W. Hervey. With a preface, showing the reason of their being now printed.”

What was the result of this? Of course, Hervey’s letters are highly Calvinistic; but they are not abusive. He hits hard; but he does it fairly and respectfully. He contends, that many of the sentiments which Wesley condemned in his critique on “Theron and Aspasio” are sentiments which Wesley himself had openly avowed; and that others had been greatly misunderstood by him. The most personal and offensive remarks are the following.

“Your objections have rather the air of a caveat, than a confutation. You seem to have forgotten, that propositions are not to be established, with the same ease, as doubts are started; and therefore have contented yourself with a brevity, which produces but little conviction, and more than a little obscurity.”[603] “When you add ‘pleasing sound to James Wheatley! Thomas Williams! James Relly’! I am quite ashamed of your meanness, and grieved at your uncharitable rashness. How unworthy is such a procedure, either of the gentleman, the Christian, or the man of sense!”[604] “Mr. Wesley, cased in his own self sufficiency, esteemeth all the aforementioned evidences as mere nothings. He totally disregards them. Reason, grammar, precedents, are eclipsed by his bare negative; and vanish into an insignificancy not worthy of notice.”[605]

These are the worst specimens we can find, and would probably have been expunged, if Hervey had lived to send his letters to the press himself.

It was impossible for Wesley to allow the publication of Hervey’s eleven letters to pass in silence. Accordingly, at the beginning of 1765, he printed “A Treatise on Justification, extracted from Mr. John Goodwin; with a preface, wherein all that is material, in letters just published under the name of the Rev. Mr. Hervey, is answered.” 12mo, 215 pages.

In his preface, Wesley states, that the reason why he printed his letter to Hervey, in his “Preservative,” was, because he had “frequently and strongly recommended” “Theron and Aspasio,” and deemed it his duty to point out what he disapproved. When he heard, that Hervey was about to answer him, he wrote requesting to see the manuscript before it was published, remarking, that if he did not return him privately a satisfactory answer within a year, he should have his free consent “to publish it to all the world.” Wesley continues:

“In this prefatory discourse, I do not intend to answer Mr. Hervey’s book. Shall my hand be upon that saint of God? No; let him rest in Abraham’s bosom. When my warfare is accomplished, may I rest with him till the resurrection of the just! I purpose only to speak a little on the personal accusations which are brought against me. The chief of those are twelve:—1. That I assert things without proof. 2. That I am self sufficient, positive, magisterial. 3. That I reason loosely and wildly. 4. That I contradict myself. 5. That I do not understand criticism and divinity. 6. That I have acted in a manner unworthy a gentleman, a Christian, or a man of sense. 7. That I am impudent. 8. That I deny justification by faith, and am an enemy to the righteousness of Christ. 9. That I am an heretic, and my doctrine is poisonous. 10. That I am an antinomian. 11. That I teach popish doctrine. 12. That I am a knave, a dishonest man, one of no truth, justice, or integrity.”

We are bound to say, that Wesley puts the accusations too broadly. For instance, it is not fair to say that Hervey calls him _impudent_, a _knave_ and a _dishonest man_. Hervey was too gentle to be capable of using such appellatives; and it was not just for Wesley to put them into Hervey’s mouth. Hervey had a high respect for Wesley, and Wesley loved Hervey as a father loves a son. It was a mournful, miserable occurrence when the two friends misunderstood each other. It was a mistake for Wesley to write his critique on Hervey’s “Theron and Aspasio,” in terms so laconic and apparently dogmatical; but, of course, his time was too much occupied to write at greater length. On the other hand, it was an equal mistake for Hervey to permit his extreme sensitiveness to take such offence as to sink into a sort of sulky silence, without seeking a friendly explanation. It was a blunder for Wesley to publish his critique, in his “Preservative,” for it was really no adequate reply to Hervey, but mere hints of what a reply ought to be, the hints being couched in language which friends might easily understand, but which enemies might easily misinterpret. And then, finally, though Hervey’s eleven letters are ably written, it was a great misfortune, that he himself did not live long enough to give them a finishing revision; and it was an almost unpardonable breach of trust, as well as a grave impertinence, for either his brother, or William Cudworth, or both united, to revise what Hervey had left unrevised, and then, contrary to his dying injunction, to commit it to the public press.

The truth is, there can be little doubt, that William Cudworth was far more anxious for the letters to be published than Hervey was; and it is more than possible, that some of the most offensive expressions used were not Hervey’s, but were interjected by Hervey’s too zealous friend. Be that as it may, it is only fair to add, that Cudworth died in 1763,[606] and therefore about the time when the surreptitious edition of the letters was published, if not actually before it. These facts will help to explain Wesley’s closing paragraph.

“‘And is this thy voice, my son David?’ Is this thy tender, loving, grateful spirit? No, ‘the hand of Joab is in all this!’ I acknowledge the hand, the heart, of William Cudworth. I perceive it was not an empty boast, which he uttered to Mr. Pearse at Bury, before my friend went to paradise,—‘Mr. Hervey has given me full power to put out and _put in_ what I please.’ But he too is gone hence; and he knows now whether I am an honest man or no. It cannot be long, even in the course of nature, before I shall follow them. I could wish till then to be at peace with all men; but the will of the Lord be done! Peace or war, ease or pain, life or death, is good, so I may but finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God.”

This was dated November 16, 1764; and well would it have been if the matter had ended here; but, after this, Dr. Erskine rushed to the rescue; and, to enlighten the darkness of the Scotch Methodists, republished Hervey’s letters, with a venomous preface of his own. Then, good old James Kershaw, one of Wesley’s itinerants, a man of no mean mind, printed, also at Edinburgh, “An Earnest Appeal to the Public, in an honest, amicable, and affectionate Reply” to Erskine’s preface. Erskine again took up the cudgel, and published a “Defence” of his preface,—a defence in which Wesley was more violently attacked than ever. And then, to consummate the whole, in 1767, Walter Sellon let off his anger in a shilling pamphlet, entitled “An Answer to ‘Aspasio Vindicated, in Eleven Letters’: said to be wrote by the late Rev. Mr. James Hervey.” To say nothing about the answer itself, which however might have been more polite without being less powerful, Sellon’s preface is a perfect tempest of wrathful indignation. Who can justify the following furious effusion respecting Hervey? “Mr. Hervey was deeply sunk into antinomianism; and had he lived much longer would, in all probability, have done _much mischief_. Managed by W. Cudworth, that _weak_ man drew his pen, dipped in _antinomian venom_, and wrote with the _utmost bitterness_ against his friend, to whom he lay under _various_ and _great_ obligations.”[607] Or the following, in reference to Hervey’s brother, and the surreptitious edition of the letters? “That edition was _planned_ in the _bottomless pit_, _inspired_ by the _prince thereof_, and published by a _knave_. And you think it your duty to _patronise_ all the _railing_, _scurrility_, _antinomianism_, _blasphemy_, _lies_, and _lewdness_, contained in that book, and to make your brother’s name _stink_ to the latest posterity! A _worthy brother_, truly!”

Mr. Sellon meant to serve Wesley; but he mistook the right way of doing it. The above is slang slander, not sober statement. Mr. Sellon was a good man, and possessed of considerable mental power; but it would have fulfilled his purpose better, if, before writing his preface to the “Answer to Aspasio Vindicated,” he had gone back to Kingswood school, and taken lessons in Christian courtesy.

The results of this wretched fracas were: 1. In Scotland, Wesley’s doctrines were stigmatized and rejected as foul and dangerous heresies; and the progress of Wesley’s Methodism was effectually retarded for the next twenty years. And, 2. In England, the squabble culminated in the memorable Calvinian controversy, which ostensibly sprung out of the conference minutes of 1770, but which really originated in the facts above recited. Fortunately, Wesley then had Fletcher, instead of Sellon, for his champion; and, unfortunately for the Calvinistic party, the only man at all competent to enter the lists with John Fletcher was James Hervey, who, twelve years before, had been removed to that better world where controversial strife does not exist.

Wesley had great faith in the power of books; and made it one of the duties of his itinerants to promote the sale of his own publications. Hence the following, addressed to Thomas Rankin.

“BRISTOL, _September 21, 1764_.

“DEAR TOMMY,—I sometimes wonder, that all our preachers are not convinced of this: that it is of unspeakable use to spread our practical tracts in every society. Billy Pennington, in one year, sold more of these in Cornwall, than had been sold for seven years before. So may you, if you take the same method. Carry one sort of books with you the first time you go the round; another sort the second time; and so on. Preach on the subject at each place; and after preaching, encourage the congregation to buy and read the tract. Peace be with your spirit!

“I am your affectionate friend and brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[608]

Hence again the following, in reference to the work already mentioned.

“LONDON, _November 2, 1764_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—At the request of several of our preachers, I have at length abridged Goodwin’s ‘Treatise on Justification.’ I trust it will stop the mouths of gainsayers concerning imputed righteousness; and teach them to speak as the oracles of God.

“I desire you to read the proposal and preface in every society within your circuit; then enforce it, as you see best, both in public and private conversation. Spare no pains. Exert yourself. See what you can do. Give this proof of your love for the truth, for the people, and for your affectionate friend and brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[609]

Wesley’s publications, in 1764, were fewer than usual.

1. “An Extract of the Rev. Mr. Wesley’s Journal, from June 17, 1758, to May 5, 1760.” 12mo, 106 pages.

2. “A Short History of Methodism.” 12mo, 11 pages. He begins by stating, that many of the accounts given of the Methodists were as remote from truth as that given by a gentleman in Ireland, namely, that “the Methodists are the people who place all religion in _wearing long beards_.” He then proceeds to notice the rise of Methodism in the Oxford university; the mission to Georgia; the separation of Whitefield; then the separation from Whitefield of William Cudworth and James Relly, both of them “properly antinomians, absolute, avowed enemies to the law of God;” then the springing up of Venn, Romaine, Madan, Berridge, and others; and then the schism of Bell and Maxfield. He concludes:

“Those who remain with Mr. Wesley are mostly Church of England men. They love her articles, her homilies, her liturgy, her discipline, and unwillingly vary from it in any instance. All who preach among them declare, ‘We are all by nature children of wrath. But by grace we are saved through faith; saved both from the guilt and from the power of sin.’ They endeavour to live according to what they preach, to be plain _Bible Christians_. And they meet together, at convenient times, to encourage one another therein. They tenderly love many that are Calvinists, though they do not love their opinions. Yea, they love the antinomians themselves; but it is with a love of compassion only. For they hate their doctrines with a perfect hatred; they abhor them as they do hell fire: being convinced nothing can so effectually destroy all faith, all holiness, and all good works.”

Such was Wesley’s manifesto concerning the Methodists in 1764.

1765.

[Sidenote: 1765 Age 62]

Wesley began the year 1765 with a visit to High Wycombe and Witney. At the former place resided Hannah Ball, now in the twenty-second year of her age, and earnestly seeking salvation. For many years, Wycombe had been occasionally visited by Methodist preachers. The first to entertain them was Thomas Humphreys, who, on one occasion, manfully stood by the side of Thomas Walsh, amid a shower of stones. At present, Miss Ball was one of the chief members,—the young lady, who, in 1769, commenced a Methodist Sunday-school, fourteen years before Raikes begun his at Gloucester. Miss Ball became one of Wesley’s favourite correspondents, and, in 1770, wrote: “The children meet twice a week, every Sunday and Monday. They are a wild little company, but seem willing to be instructed. I labour among them, earnestly desiring to promote the interest of the church of Christ.”[610]

Returning to London, Wesley started off to Essex, and preached in the churches at Ovington and Titbury. Coming back to the metropolis, he read Mr. Romaine’s “Life of Faith,” and observes: “I thought nothing could exceed Mr. Ingham’s book; but really this does; although they differ not a hair’s breadth from each other, any more than from Mr. Sandeman.” He employed his leisure hours in revising his letters and papers, abundance of which he burnt.

On February 18, he made a hurried visit to Norwich, and says, he “spent a few days there with more comfort than he had ever done before.”

On March 10, at nine in the morning, he preached in the old French church, Grey Eagle Street, Spitalfields, and made a collection, in his poor Methodist congregation, of £40, for the benefit of the weavers out of work;[611] and, in the evening of the same day, the society contributed £14 more for a few of its own distressed members.

The day after, he began a tour, which occupied the next two-and-thirty weeks.

On his way to Bristol, his horse dropped down dead. At Stroud, he preached in the new chapel. Towards the close of the sermon, a young man fell to the ground, and vehemently prayed for mercy. After supper, a young gentleman cried, “I am damned,” and sunk prostrate on the floor. A second did so quickly after, and was much convulsed, and yet quite sensible. Leaving Stroud, Wesley proceeded to Worcester, Birmingham, Derby, and Sheffield.

At Manchester, Bolton, and Liverpool, he had overflowing congregations. He wished to embark for Ireland; but, after a fortnight’s waiting, on account of unfavourable winds, he set out, on April 11, for Kendal, where Francis Gilbert resided, brother of Nathaniel Gilbert, Esq., of Antigua. Here also was Miss Mary Gilbert, a girl fourteen years of age, who had been sent by her father from Antigua to be educated, but who, three years afterwards, triumphantly expired, leaving behind her the beautiful journal which Wesley immediately published.

From Kendal, Wesley proceeded across the mountains, in the midst of a rainy hurricane, to Barnard castle, where he examined those who, two or three years before, had professed to be entirely sanctified. The result was far from satisfactory. In London, about two thirds of the high professors had lost their confidence; and he found the same proportion in Barnard castle.

On April 22, Wesley set out for Scotland, where he says: “my coming was quite seasonable, as those bad letters, published in the name of Mr. Hervey, and reprinted here by Mr. John Erskine, had made a great deal of noise.” After preaching at Dunbar, Edinburgh, Musselburgh, and Glasgow, he made his way, in company with his itinerant, James Kershaw, along the west coast of Scotland, till he reached Portpatrick, where he and his horse got into an _open boat_, and crossed the Channel to Donaghadee, in Ireland.

From May 2 to August 2, he was incessantly travelling, writing, and preaching in the sister island. Coming to Londonderry, he knew no one, nor where the preacher lodged; but while he stood musing how to act, a gentleman, on horseback, asked his name, and took him home with him. This was Alexander Knox, Esq., a member of the corporation and a Christian, whose son for thirty years carried on a correspondence with Bishop Jebb.

After Thomas Williams, the first Methodist itinerant in Ireland, was discarded by Wesley, he visited Londonderry, became popular as a preacher, formed a society, fell into sin, married, and then went off, leaving his wife behind him. This was in 1764. Two of Williams’s members wrote to Dublin for a preacher, and James Clough was sent.[612] This was the preacher whom Wesley wanted, when he was met by Mr. Knox. Wesley’s host took him to the church, and led him to a pew, where he was placed next the mayor. He gave him hospitable entertainment for a fortnight, and he and his wife became members of Wesley’s society; and, though he ultimately left the Methodists, yet, as will be seen hereafter, to the end of life, he retained the profoundest respect for his friend.

During his stay with Mr. Knox, Wesley wrote as follows:—

“LONDONDERRY, _May 14, 1765_.

“DEAR SIR,—You have admirably expressed what I mean by an opinion, contradistinguished from an essential doctrine. Whatever is ‘compatible with love to Christ, and a work of grace,’ I term an _opinion_. And certainly the holding particular election and final perseverance is compatible with these.

“‘Yet what fundamental errors,’ you ask, ‘have you opposed with half that fervency as you have opposed these opinions?’ I have printed near fifty sermons, and only one of these opposes them at all. I preach about eight hundred sermons a year; and, taking one year with another, for twenty years past, I have not preached eight sermons in a year upon the subject. But ‘how many of your best preachers have been thrust out, because they dissented from you in these particulars?’ Not one, best or worst, good or bad, was ever thrust out on this account. Two or three voluntarily left us, after they had embraced those opinions; and two I should have expelled for immoral behaviour; but they withdrew, and _pretended_ not to hold our doctrine. Set a mark, therefore, on him that told you that tale, and let his word for the future go for nothing.

“‘Is a man a believer in Jesus Christ, and is his life suitable to his profession?’ are not only the _main_, but the _sole_, inquiries, I make, in order to his admission into our society. If he is a Dissenter, he may be a Dissenter still: but if he is a Churchman, I advise him to continue so.

“I think on justification, just as I have done any time these seven-and-twenty years; and just as Mr. Calvin does. In this respect, I do not differ from him an hair’sbreadth.

“I am, dear sir, your affectionate brother and servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”

Wesley did not get to Dublin till the 18th of July, in the evening of which day, he says, “I began expounding the deepest part of the holy Scripture, namely, the first epistle of St. John, by which above all other, even inspired, writings, I advise every young preacher to form his style. Here are sublimity and simplicity together, the strongest sense and the plainest language. How can any one, that would speak as the oracles of God, use harder words than are found here?”

During Wesley’s tour in Ireland, Whitefield arrived in England from America. His health was shattered; and, no sooner was he at home again, than he became the butt of malignant wit. _Lloyd’s Evening Post_ published a long “Lecture on Heads,” in which Whitefield was caricatured as “the bell-wether of the flock, who had broken down orthodoxy’s bounds, and was now rioting on the common of hypocrisy”; and then followed a ribald harangue put into his mouth, and far too foul for quotation.

Wesley, also, in the same periodical, had his share of personal abuse; and was calumniated as the patron of a practice then in vogue, namely that of parties of religious people using cards, with Scripture texts, to ascertain their spiritual condition, and eternal hopes.[613] Both, however, were too accustomed to such scurrility, to suffer it to disturb their peace.

On August 2, Wesley embarked for England, and landed, at Whitehaven, on the 6th. He hurried to Newcastle; and, on Sunday, the 11th, preached thrice, held a covenant service, spoke for an hour at a society meeting, and rode nearly thirty miles. Pretty well, for a man more than threescore years of age.

On his way southwards, he preached at Sunderland, Durham, Yarm, Leeds, and Huddersfield. He then rode to Chester to preach in the octagon chapel, just erected, and said to be capable of containing from six to eight hundred people. At this period, Chester was included in the Manchester circuit, the society raising, by their united efforts, about a shilling per week for the support of their preachers.[614]

On August 20, Wesley opened his conference, in Manchester. The circuits in England at this period were twenty-five in number: namely—London, Sussex, Canterbury, Colchester, Norwich, Bedford, Oxfordshire, Wilts, Bristol, Devon, Cornwall (East), Cornwall (West), Staffordshire, Salop, Lancashire, Derbyshire, Sheffield, Epworth, Grimsby, Leeds, Birstal, Haworth, York, Yarm, The Dales, and Newcastle. It is a fact worth noting, that six of these circuit towns, nearly a fourth of the entire number, were in Yorkshire. In addition, there were four circuits in Scotland: namely—Edinburgh, Dundee, Aberdeen, and Glasgow; two in Wales—Glamorganshire and Pembroke; and eight in Ireland—Dublin, Cork, Limerick, Waterford, Athlone, Castlebar, Newry, and Londonderry. To these thirty-nine circuits ninety-two itinerant preachers were appointed, twelve of whom were admitted, on trial, at the present conference.

This will give the reader an idea of the growth of Methodism, during the first twenty-five years of its eventful history; and it may be added that, while at the Manchester conference, of 1765, there were only ninety-two preachers for the whole of the circuits in England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, there were, a hundred years later, in 1865, not fewer than one hundred and seventeen, for the circuits in the Manchester district only; in other words, the Manchester district, only, had, in 1865, nearly one third more ministers than the whole of the Methodist connexion had in 1765.

The proceedings of the conference may be gathered from the following synopsis of its minutes.

The connexional collection for the support of Kingswood school was ascertained to be £100 9_s._ 7_d._ The yearly subscription in the classes was £707 18_s._; of which £578 was devoted to the payment of chapel debts; £38 17_s._ was spent in defraying law expenses, and the remaining £91 1_s._ was divided among the preachers who were in want. Rules were adopted for the management of the fund for the support of superannuated preachers, their widows, and their children. Many of the chapels being still deeply involved in debt, it was determined, that no new chapel should be begun, but by the advice of one of the assistants; and that no assistant should consent to a new erection without an absolute necessity. Some of the chapels already built were not vested in trustees, and several trustees of other chapels were already dead. To remedy these defects, a person was to be sent through England, to examine the deeds, and to appoint trustees where needed. In all future buildings, there were to be sash windows, opening downwards; but no “tub pulpits,” and no backs to the seats. Men and women were to sit apart everywhere; outdoor preaching had often been omitted to please societies or their stewards, but this was not to be done again; weeknight preaching, except in harvest time, was never to commence later than seven o’clock, and a lovefeast should never continue longer than an hour and a half, for every one ought to be at home by nine. Breaking bread to each other at lovefeasts, “a silly custom invented by James Wheatley,” was to be discountenanced, on the ground that it created much confusion. Some of the preachers were not “merciful to their beasts,” and it was directed, that hard riding should be abandoned, and that every one should “see with his own eyes his horse rubbed, fed, and bedded.” It was resolved, that members, removing from one society to another, should not be received, unless they brought a certificate from the assistant officiating where they left.

Other regulations were adopted by the conference of 1765. No preacher was to print anything without Wesley’s approbation. Societies and congregations were to be taught singing. The preachers were to meet the societies, bands, and children; to use intercession on Fridays; and to recommend fasting, both by precept and example. The people were to be urged to use family prayer twice a day; to be good economists; to guard against “little oaths, as upon my life, my faith, my honour;” and against little compliments, or unmeaning words. The members might “tenderly and prudently call each other brother and sister; but, as a rule, they talked too much and read too little, and ought to amend in this.” Many of them were “absolutely enslaved to snuff”; some drank drams; and the religion of most was usually too superficial. To remedy such evils, the preachers were enjoined, on no account, to take snuff or to drink drams themselves; and were to speak to any one they saw snuffing in sermon time, to answer the pretences that drams cured the colic and helped digestion, and to preach on the most spiritual subjects, and earnestly recommend private prayer, reading the Scriptures, and universal self denial.

These are tempting topics for discussion; but it can only be added, that Wesley was far from thinking, that the Methodists were perfect. Besides the hints above given, he remarks, at this very conference:—“God thrust me and my brother out, utterly against our will, to raise a _holy_ people. Holiness was our point,—inward and outward holiness. When Satan could no otherwise prevent this, he threw _Calvinism_ in our way; and then _antinomianism_. Then many Methodists grew _rich_, and thereby _lovers_ of the present _world_. Next, they married unawakened or half awakened _wives_, and conversed with _their relations_. Thence, _worldly prudence_, _maxims_, _customs_, crept back upon us, producing more and more _conformity to the world_. Then there followed gross neglect of _relative duties_, especially _education_ of children.” This is a faithful but not bright picture of the Methodists of a hundred years ago. Wesley adds: “This is not cured by the preachers. Either they have not _light_, or not _weight_ enough. But the want of these may be in some measure supplied, by publicly reading the sermons” (Wesley’s own sermons) “everywhere; especially the fourth volume, which supplies them with remedies suited to the disease.”

The Manchester conference lasted four days. Sammy Bardsley, then a youthful Methodist, and employed as a bottle cleaner, and an errand boy in the vaults of a Manchester wine and spirit merchant, writes: “There were present a _deal_ of preachers. Everything was carried on with decency and order. The Rev. Mr. Wesley preached every evening. On Sunday morning, he preached in Marsden’s Square to a numerous congregation. Something remarkable to me was his humility, in taking me by the arm, and walking through the town with me. The Lord grant, that I may be as serviceable for the good of souls, according to my abilities, as he has been!”[615] Three years afterwards, the wine merchant’s bottle cleaner became one of Wesley’s itinerants.

We have already seen that, in 1761, the Rev. Henry Venn wished Wesley to withdraw his preachers from Huddersfield, on the ground that he, the minister of the Huddersfield parishioners, preached the same truths that Wesley did. The Huddersfield Methodists demurred to this absorption in the Established Church; and the matter was compromised by Wesley and Venn agreeing that the Methodist preachers should not invade the parish of Huddersfield oftener than once a month. After this, Wesley went a step farther, and, to please his clerical friend, agreed that, for the space of one year, the preaching of the itinerants should be suspended altogether. This was carrying the thing too far. Wesley seemed to forget, for the moment, that other men had consciences as well as he. As a sop to Venn, the concession failed; and, besides this, that which was meant to be a peace offering to the Huddersfield vicar became a bone of contention to the Huddersfield Methodists. Both they and their preachers were vexed; and, 1765, the latter took the affair into their own hands, and, despite the clerical compact, again began preaching within Mr. Venn’s ecclesiastical preserves. The curate took the pains to go from house to house entreating the people not to hear them; but all to no purpose.[616] The following letter, to Mr. Venn, refers to these and other facts.

“_June 22, 1765._

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—Having, at length, a few hours to spare, I sit down to answer your last, which was particularly acceptable to me, because it was written with so great openness. I shall write with the same. Herein you and I are just fit to converse together, because we both like to speak blunt and plain, without going a great way round about. I shall likewise take this opportunity of explaining myself on some other heads. I want you to understand me inside and out. Then I say, ‘_Sic sum: si placeo, utere_.’

“Were I allowed to boast myself a little, I would say, I want no man living, I mean, none but those who are now connected with me, and who bless God for that connection. With these I am able to go through every part of the work to which I am called. Yet, I have laboured after union with all whom I believe to be united with Christ. I have sought it again and again; but in vain. They were resolved to stand aloof. And, when one and another sincere minister of Christ has been inclined to come nearer to me, others have diligently kept them off, as though thereby they did God service.

“To this poor end, the doctrine of perfection has been brought in head and shoulders. And when such concessions were made as would abundantly satisfy any fair and candid man, they were no nearer; rather farther off: for they had no desire to be satisfied. To make this _dear_ breach wider and wider, stories were carefully gleaned up, improved, yea, invented and retailed, both concerning me and ‘the perfect ones.’ And, when anything very bad has come to hand, some have rejoiced as though they had found great spoils.

“By this means chiefly, the distance between you and me has increased ever since you came to Huddersfield; and, perhaps, it has not been lessened by that honest, well meaning man, Mr. Burnet, and by others, who have talked largely of my dogmaticalness, love of power, errors, and irregularities. My dogmaticalness is neither more nor less than a ‘custom of coming to the point at once,’ and telling my mind flat and plain, without any preface or ceremony. I could indeed premise something of my own imbecility, littleness of judgment, and the like: but, first, I have no time to lose; I must despatch the matter as soon as possible; secondly, I do not think it frank or ingenuous. I think these prefaces are mere artifice.

“The _power_ I have never _sought_. It was the undesired, unexpected result of the work. God was pleased to work by me. I have a thousand times sought to devolve it on others; but, as yet, I cannot. I therefore suffer it till I can find any to ease me of my burden.

“If any one will convince me of my _errors_, I will heartily thank him. I believe all the Bible, as far as I understand it, and am ready to be convinced. If I am a heretic, I became such by reading the Bible. All my notions I drew from thence; and with little help from men, unless in the single point of justification by faith. But I impose my notions upon none; I will be bold to say, there is no man living further from it. I make no opinion the term of union with any man; I think and let think. What I want is, holiness of heart and life. They who have this, are my brother, sister, and mother.

“‘But you hold perfection’: true; that is, loving God with _all_ our heart, and serving Him with _all_ our strength. I teach nothing more, nothing less than this. And whatever infirmity, defect, ανομια, is consistent with this, any man may teach, and I shall not contradict him.

“As to _irregularity_, I hope none of those, who cause it, do then complain of it. Will they throw a man into the dirt, and beat him because he is dirty? Of all men living, those clergymen ought not to complain, who believe I preach the gospel, as to the substance of it. If they do not ask me to preach in their churches, _they_ are accountable for my preaching in the fields.

“I come now directly to your letter, in hopes of establishing a good understanding between us. I agreed to suspend, for a twelvemonth, our stated preaching at Huddersfield, which had been there these many years. If this answered your end, I am glad; my end it did not answer at all. Instead of coming nearer to me, you got farther off. I heard of it from every quarter, though few knew that I did; for I saw no cause to speak against _you_, because you did against _me_. I wanted you to do more, not less good; and, therefore, durst not do or say anything to hinder it. And, lest I should hinder it, I will make a farther trial, and suspend the preaching at Huddersfield for another year.

“1. To clear the case between us a little farther, I must now adopt your words: ‘I, no less than you, preach justification by faith only, the absolute necessity of holiness, the increasing mortification of sin, and rejection of all past experiences and attainments. I abhor, as you do, all antinomian abuse of the doctrine of Christ, and desire to see my people walking even as He walked. Is it then worth while, in order to gratify a few bigoted persons, or for the sake of the minute differences between us,’ to encourage ‘all the train of evils which follow _contention for opinions_, in little matters as much as in great?’

“2. If I was as strenuous with regard to perfection on one side, as you have been on the other, I should deny you to be _a sufficient_ preacher; but this I never did. And yet, I can assure you, I can advance such reasons for all I teach, as would puzzle you, and all that condemn me, to answer; but I am sick of disputing. Let them beat the air, and triumph without an opponent.

“3. ‘None,’ you say, ‘preach in your houses, who do not hold the very same doctrine with you.’ This is not exactly the case. You are welcome to preach in any of those houses; as I know we agree in the main points; and wherein soever we differ, you would not preach there contrary to me. ‘But would it not give you pain to have any other teacher come among those committed to your charge, so as to have your plan disconcerted, your labours depreciated, and the affections of your flock alienated?’ It has given me pain, when I had reason to fear this was done, both at Leeds, Birstal, and elsewhere; and I was ‘under a temptation of speaking against you’: but I refrained even among my intimate friends. So far was I from publicly warning my people against one I firmly believed to be much better than myself.

“4. Indeed, I trust ‘the bad blood is now taken away.’ Let it return no more. Let us begin such a correspondence as has never been yet, and let us avow it before all mankind. Not content with not weakening each other’s hands, or speaking against each other, directly or indirectly, let us defend each other’s character to the utmost, against either ill or well meaning evil speakers. I am not satisfied with ‘Be very civil to the Methodists, but have nothing to do with them.’ No; I desire to have a league, offensive and defensive, with every soldier of Christ. We have not only one faith, one hope, one Lord, but are directly engaged in one warfare. We are carrying the war into the devil’s own quarters, who, therefore, summonses all his hosts to war. Come then, ye that love Him, to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty! I am now well-nigh ‘_miles emeritus, senex, sexagenarius_.’ Yet I trust to fight a little longer. Come and strengthen the hands, till you supply the place, of your weak, but affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[617]

This is a long letter, but far too important to be abridged.

Wesley had been more than five months from London; but, instead of returning thither, he proceeded, from the Manchester conference, direct to Cornwall.

On his way, he attempted to preach at Northtawton, in Devonshire; but, for once in his life, was hindered. He writes: “I went to the door of our inn; but I had hardly ended the psalm, when a clergyman came, with two or three (by the courtesy of England called) gentlemen. After I had named my text, I said, ‘There may be some truths which concern some men only; but this concerns all mankind.’ The minister cried out, ‘That is false doctrine, that is predestination.’ Then the roar began, to second which they had brought a huntsman with his hounds; but the dogs were wiser than the men; for they could not bring them to make any noise at all. One of the gentlemen supplied their place. He assured us he was such, or none would have suspected it; for his language was as base, foul, and porterly as ever was heard at Billingsgate. Dog, rascal, puppy, and the like terms, adorned almost every sentence. Finding there was no probability of a quiet hearing, I left him the field, and withdrew to my lodging.”

At Gwennap, Wesley had as large a congregation as he had ever seen assembled in Moorfields. At Redruth, he met with Grace Paddy, “a well bred, sensible young woman,” who professed to be “convinced of sin, converted to God, and renewed in love, within twelve hours.” Almost everywhere, he was received with the warmest welcome, and rejoiced to find the work of God in general prosperity. Still, as in the case of the Asiatic churches, the Cornish ones were not perfect; and hence the following characteristic letter, addressed to Thomas Rankin.

“ST. JOHN’S, _September 11, 1765_.

“DEAR TOMMY,—There is a good work in Cornwall. But where the great work goes on well, we should take care to be exact in little things. I will tell you several of these, just as they occur to my mind.

“Grace Paddy, at Redruth, met in the select society, though she wore a large glittering necklace, and met no band.

“They sing all over Cornwall a tune so full of repetitions and flourishes, that it can scarce be sung with devotion. It is to these words, ‘Praise the Lord, ye blessed ones.’ Away with it: let it be heard no more.

“They cannot sing our old common tunes. Teach these everywhere. Take pains herein.

“The societies are not half supplied with books; not even with Jane Cooper’s Letters, or the two or three sermons which I printed last year; no, not with the shilling hymn-book, or ‘Primitive Physic.’

“They almost universally neglect fasting.

“The preaching houses are miserable, even the new ones. They have neither light nor air sufficient; and they are far, far too low, and too small. Look at Yarm house.

“Recommend the ‘Notes on the Old Testament,’ in good earnest. Every society, as a society, should subscribe. Remind them, everywhere, that two, four, or six might join together for a copy, and bring the money to their leader weekly.

“We have need to use all the common sense God has given us, as well as all the grace.

“I am, dear Tommy, your affectionate friend and brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[618]

Tommy Rankin was a faithful man, and if things in Cornwall were not all right it was not Tommy’s fault. Hence another of Wesley’s own peculiar letters, written two months afterwards.[619]

“LONDON, _November 18, 1765_.

“DEAR TOMMY,—You have satisfied me with regard to the particulars which I mentioned in my letter from Cornwall. Only, one thing I desire you to remember. Never sit up later than ten o’clock; no, not for any reason (except a watchnight), not on any pretence whatever. In general, I desire you would go to bed about a quarter after nine.

“Likewise be temperate in speaking; never too loud; never too long: else Satan will befool you; and, on pretence of being more useful, quite disable you from being useful at all.

“Richard Henderson desired, that he might be the bookkeeper this year in Wiltshire, and save me two shillings in the pound. But whoever you approve of, so do I. Write to Mr. Franks accordingly.

“I am, dear Tommy, your affectionate friend and brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”

On September 21, Wesley returned to Bristol, where he found fifty members fewer than he had left twelve months before. He writes: “One reason is, Christian perfection has been little insisted on; and wherever this is not done, be the preachers ever so eloquent, there is little increase, either in the number or the grace of the hearers.” “There are now about twenty persons here, who believe they are saved from sin; but, if these lose what they have received, nothing will be more easy than to think they never had it. There were four hundred in London, who, unless they told me lies, had the same experience. If near half of these have lost what they had, I do not wonder if they think they never had it; it is so ready a way of excusing themselves for throwing away the blessed gift of God.”[620]

It was about this period that Captain Webb and Wesley became acquainted.[621] Thomas Webb was now in the thirty-first year of his age. Seven years before, he had been with General Wolfe, in Canada, where he lost his right eye, and was wounded in his right arm. He found peace with God on March 23, 1765, while conversing in Bristol with Mr. Cary, a Moravian minister; and, soon after, was introduced among the Bristol Methodists by the Rev. James Roquet.[622] Immediately after his conversion, he began to preach at Bath; and, in 1769, was one of the principal agents employed in planting Methodism in America. About the year 1783, he settled in England, and spent the remainder of his life, till 1796, in preaching Christ. He was twice married, and had two sons and a daughter. The sons became resident in America;[623] the daughter died at Stourport, three years after her father.[624] Wesley had a high respect for the brave captain, and, by applying to Lord North, obtained him a pension of a hundred pounds a year.[625] “The captain,” says he, “is all life and fire; and many are convinced under his preaching, some are justified, and a few built up in love.”[626] Charles Wesley’s opinion, as might be expected, was more qualified. “He is,” he writes, “an inexperienced, honest, zealous, loving enthusiast.”[627]

We shall meet with Captain Webb again; suffice it to add here, that, to the end of life, he furnished a bright example of Christian diligence and zeal. For several years, he annually made a summer’s visit to the French prisoners at Winchester, addressing them in their own language, which he had studied while in Canada. Portsmouth, also, was often favoured with his services. Here crowds of soldiers and sailors listened, with all possible veneration, to the Christian warrior, and, under the spontaneous effusions of his holy eloquence, trembled, as they would not have trembled in the midst of battle, and wept on account of sin, when they would have scorned to weep on account of pain. In Bristol and its vicinity, his labours were greatly blessed; and to him, in an eminent degree, Bristol is indebted for the erection of Portland chapel, where he lies interred.[628] The good old captain was carried to his grave by six local preachers, and his pall was borne by six itinerants.[629] His funeral sermon was preached and published by John Pritchard. “Webb,” says Dr. Dixon, “seems to have been a perfect embodiment of the true genius and spirit of primitive Methodism.”[630] He was not perfect, and John Pawson found great fault with Pritchard’s funeral sermon, for being far too eulogistic of the captain’s virtues;[631] but, maugre Pawson’s criticism, there cannot be a doubt, that the brave and generous wounded old warrior was as courageous and as zealous, in the cause of Christ, as he ever was in the service of his country. His native talent was respectable; he had seen much of life; his education enabled him to read his Greek Testament, which is still a much prized relic in America;[632] his enthusiasm was almost unbounded; and his impassioned eloquence sometimes overwhelming. His name must be for ever illustrious in the history of Methodism in the United States; and he well deserved the eulogium on his monument in Portland chapel, Bristol: “Brave, active, courageous, faithful, zealous, and successful.”

Wesley left Bristol on October 21, and reached London three days afterwards. On October 28, he writes: “I breakfasted with Mr. Whitefield, who seemed to be an old, old man, being fairly worn out in his Master’s service, though he has hardly seen fifty years; and yet it pleases God, that I, who am now in my sixty-third year, find no disorder, no weakness, no decay, no difference from what I was at five-and-twenty; only that I have fewer teeth, and more grey hairs.”

During the first week in December, Wesley paid a visit to the societies at Canterbury, Dover, Margate, and Faversham. At Canterbury, he found all the members, without exception, “upright and blameless in their behaviour.” At Dover, where the Methodists met in a cooper’s shop, some had formerly indulged in smuggling, but they had ceased to “rob the king,” and were now in prosperity.

At Margate, the society were “earnestly opposed” by the parson of the parish, who thought he was “doing God service.” At Faversham, says Wesley, “the mob and the magistrates had agreed together to drive Methodism out of the town. After preaching, I told them what we had been constrained to do by the magistrate at Rolvenden; who, perhaps, would have been richer, by some hundred pounds, had he never meddled with the Methodists; concluding, ‘Since we have both God and the law on our side, if we can have peace by fair means, we had much rather; but if not, we will have peace.’”

From a manuscript, written by Miss Perronet, we learn that, five months before Wesley’s visit to Faversham, Mrs. Pizing had gone to Canterbury, to consult with Charles Perronet, respecting her husband, who had been threatened with expulsion from the situation he held, if he continued to attend the Methodist services at Faversham, or entertained the preachers at his house. The mob, also, were determined to assault the congregation, and to punish them with vengeance. Charles Perronet exhorted Mrs. Pizing and her husband to continue faithful; and Miss Perronet went to visit them. During her stay, many of the female members, as sisters Butler, Godfrey, Pizing, Clark, Whitehead, and Rigden, found peace with God; and there was, what Miss Perronet designates, “a blessed work of God among them.” These were some of the poor Methodists threatened by the mob and magistrates of Faversham.

Wesley’s friendship with the Perronet family was of long standing, and was unabated. On December 15, he buried the remains of Henry, one of the vicar’s sons, who “had been a child of sorrow from his infancy,” but who died in hope and happiness. Wesley spent some days at the Shoreham parsonage, endeavouring to comfort his old and faithful friend; he himself suffering at the time from a serious accident, which occurred to him while he was on his way to the house of mourning. In riding through Southwark, his horse fell, with Wesley’s leg under it. A gentleman picked him up, and took him into an adjoining shop, where he was exceeding sick, but was relieved by hartshorn and water. After a brief rest, he called a coach, and proceeded on his journey, but soon found himself severely bruised in his right arm, his breast, his knee, his leg, and ankle, all of which were greatly swollen. Arriving at Shoreham, he applied treacle plasters twice a day; and, within a week, was able to return to London in a carriage, where, to the treacle applications, he added electrifying every morning and every night. He gradually improved; but, for many months afterwards, he was a serious sufferer, though he refused to permit his pain to interrupt his work. “I am not quite free,” he wrote, on May 6, 1766, “from the effects of my fall at Christmas, and perhaps never shall be in this world. Sometimes my ankle, sometimes my knee, and frequently my shoulder, complains. But, blessed be God, I have strength sufficient for the work to which I am called. When I cannot walk any farther, I can take a horse, and now and then a chaise; so that, hitherto, I have not been hindered from visiting any place which I purposed to see before I left London.”[633]

Comparatively speaking, there was, in 1765, a cessation of the printed attacks on Methodism. There was one, however, which must be mentioned: “Mumbo Chumbo: a Tale written in antient manner. Recommended to modern Devotees.” 4to, 19 pages. The title page of this precious morsel is adorned with Mumbo Chumbo’s picture—a sort of humanised monster, with hair on end, hands and fingers long and bony, eyes glaring, and mouth belching fire on a crowd of women and little children; while, just behind, stand two persons in parsonic costume, and also a drawing of Whitefield’s tabernacle, in Tabernacle Row. Of course Mumbo Chumbo means Methodism. The following is the last verse but two in this disgraceful production, and may be taken as a fair sample of all the rest. Addressing women, in reference to Methodist preachers, the Mumbo Chumbo poet sings:

“Still let them rave, and their loud throats uprear, As if the walls they’d crack, and split the doors; Be not dismayed, nor aught give way to fear, Only think this—that Mumbo Chumbo roars.”

Wesley’s publications, during the year 1765, were as follows.

1. “The Scripture Way of Salvation. A Sermon on Ephesians ii. 8.” 12mo, 22 pages. Wesley’s text, in this instance, was the same as the one he took when he preached, twenty-seven years before, his famous sermon before the Oxford university. The divisions also are _substantially_ the same; but the discourses are different. There are no contradictions; but there are further elucidations. The sermon published in 1738 was exactly adapted to the times; and so was the sermon published in 1765. During that interval, controversies had sprung up respecting faith, repentance, and Christian perfection. Sandemanianism had become rampant, and it was become necessary to define, with great exactness, the nature of saving faith, and also the nature of repentance, and in what sense it is essential to salvation. The fanatical theories of Thomas Maxfield and George Bell had thrown all the Methodist ideas of entire sanctification into confusion; and it was of the highest importance, that Wesley should state most distinctly, not only what he meant by being entirely sanctified, but, how such a state was to be attained. These are questions which the second sermon discusses; and, in that respect, it is a most important appendix to the first. Thoroughly to understand Wesley’s doctrine, the two must be read together.

2. “The Lord our Righteousness. A Sermon preached at the chapel in West Street, Seven Dials, on Sunday, November 24, 1765.” 8vo, 36 pages. This, also, was a sermon for the times. The controversy respecting Hervey’s notions of imputed righteousness had attracted great attention. Wesley was misrepresented, and misunderstood; and the object of his sermon is to correct the errors in circulation concerning him. His two divisions are: 1. What is the righteousness of Christ? 2. When, and in what sense, is it imputed to us? Wesley most conclusively shows, that the accusations respecting his having changed his opinions are unfounded; and that, really, the difference between him and men like Hervey is merely verbal. He wrote in his journal, on the day he preached the sermon: “I said not one thing which I have not said, at least, fifty times within this twelvemonth; yet it appeared to many entirely new, who much importuned me to print my sermon, supposing it would stop the mouths of all gainsayers. Alas! for their simplicity! In spite of all I can print, say, or do, will not those who seek occasion of offence find occasion?” Well might Wesley write thus; for, though his sermon is written in language the most explicit and unmistakable, no sooner was it published than a sixpenny octavo pamphlet was issued with the title,—“A Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, concerning his inconsistency with himself. Occasioned by the publication of his sermon, entitled ‘The Lord our Righteousness.’” The spirit of the letter maybe surmised from the motto on the title page: “Rebuke them sharply, that they may be sound in the faith.”

3. “Thoughts on a Single Life.” 12mo, 11 pages. This is a queer tract; and the less said about it the better. A man holding such sentiments had no right to have a wife; and yet Wesley declares: “My present thoughts upon a single life are just the same they have been these thirty years, and the same they must be, unless I give up my Bible.”

About the same time, another tract, of the same size, was written with the title, “Jesus altogether lovely; or, a letter to some of the single women of the Methodist society”; but, though it was sold at Wesley’s “preaching houses, in town and country,” it is far from certain that Wesley was its author. Still, it is not unlikely that one was connected with the other. At all events, both substantially aim at the same thing, namely, to show that, though marriage is not sinful, it is a high state of perfection, and the result of a great gift of God, to be able to live a single life.

In 1765, also was published, “The Christian’s Pocket Companion: consisting of select Texts of the New Testament, with suitable observations in prose and verse. By John Barnes, Carmarthen.” 372 pages. The preface to this Welsh production was written by Wesley, and is as follows:

“To the Reader. Perhaps few books, lately published, have been more useful, to serious and pious readers, than that entitled ‘The Golden Treasury,’ It will be easily observed, that this is wrote on the same plan, containing a short exercise of devotion for every day of the year. The chief difference, between the one and the other, I apprehend, is this,—they do not only contain the first principles of religion, repentance towards God, and faith in Christ, the doctrine of justification, and the new birth; but likewise the whole work of God in the soul of man, till being rooted and grounded in love he is able to comprehend, with all saints, what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height, and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, and to be filled with all the fulness of God.

“PEMBROKE, _July 30, 1764_.

“JOHN WESLEY.”

4. In _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, for June 5, 1765, appeared the following advertisement.

“On Thursday the 1st of August will be published, price 6_d._, Number I. of Explanatory Notes upon the Old Testament. By John Wesley, M.A., late fellow of Lincoln college, Oxford. Conditions. 1. That this work will be printed in quarto, on a superfine paper. 2. That it will be comprised in about 60 numbers (as near as can be computed) making two handsome volumes.[634] 3. That each number will contain three sheets of letterpress, printed on a new type. 4. That the first number will be considered as a specimen, and, if not approved of, the money paid for it shall be returned. 5. That the work will be delivered weekly to the subscribers, without interruption, after the publication of the first number. 6. That the whole will be printed in an elegant manner, no way inferior to the very best work of the kind ever offered to the public. Bristol: Printed by William Pine. Sold by J. Fletcher & Co., in St. Paul’s Churchyard, London; and by the Booksellers of Great Britain and Ireland.”

Such was the advertisement. The work was really published in three quarto volumes, making 2622 printed pages, the preface being dated “April 25, 1765,” and the last page of the work, “December 24, 1766.” Wesley writes:

“About ten years ago, I was prevailed upon to publish Explanatory Notes upon the New Testament. When that work was begun, and, indeed, when it was finished, I had no design to attempt anything further of the kind. Nay, I had a full determination not to do it, being thoroughly fatigued with the immense labour of writing twice over a quarto book containing seven or eight hundred pages.

“But this was scarce published, before I was importuned to write Explanatory Notes upon the Old Testament. This importunity I have withstood for many years. Over and above the deep conviction I had of my insufficiency for such a work, of my want of learning, of understanding, of spiritual experience, for an undertaking more difficult by many degrees than even writing on the New Testament, I objected, that there were many passages in the Old which I did not understand myself, and consequently could not explain to others, either to their satisfaction or my own. Above all, I objected the want of time: not only as I have a thousand other employments, but as my day is near spent, as I am declined into the vale of years.”

He then proceeds to state, that he cannot entertain the thought of “_composing_ a body of notes on the whole of the Old Testament”; but that he will give the pith of Matthew Henry’s Exposition; leaving out the whole of what Henry wrote in favour of particular redemption; also all his Latin sentences, abundance of his quaint sayings, and the far greater part of his inferences from and improvements of the chapters. His notes however would not be “a bare abridgment of Mr. Henry’s Exposition”; for he would make as many additions from Mr. Pool’s Annotations as he made extracts from Mr. Henry’s Exposition; and would add to the whole such further observations, either of his own or of other authors, as might occur to him. Here and there he had made a verbal alteration in the text; but, he says, “I have done this very sparingly, being conscious of my very imperfect acquaintance with the Hebrew tongue.” He concludes: “my design is not to write sermons, not to draw inferences from the text, or to show what doctrines may be proved thereby, but to give the direct literal meaning of every verse, of every sentence, and, as far as I am able, of every word, in the oracles of God.”

1766.

[Sidenote: 1766 Age 63]

The following is Wesley’s first entry in his Journal for 1766. “January 1.—A large congregation met in the Foundery at four o’clock, and ushered in the new year with the voice of praise and thanksgiving. In the evening we met as usual in Spitalfields to renew our covenant with God. This is always a refreshing season, at which some prisoners are set at liberty.”

Wesley was still suffering from the fall of his horse, and, to some extent, was crippled; but, on January 13, he set out on his accustomed Norfolk visit.

On reaching Yarmouth, he wrote: “The word of God was increasing here, when poor Benjamin Worship was converted to Calvinism. Immediately, he declared open war, tore the society in pieces, took all he could to himself, wholly quitted the Church, and raised such a scandal as will not soon be removed.” This was an early rupture. It was hardly six years ago since Howel Harris had come to Yarmouth, with his regiment of volunteers, and, in martial costume, begun to preach the gospel of the Prince of Peace. Among others then converted was this selfsame Benjamin Worship, a young solicitor, who became classleader and local preacher; and now tore the infant society in pieces, organised a society of his own, obtained a small chapel in one of the rows, preached for about two years, and then had the mortification to see the whole collapse. John Simpson, a draper, succeeded Worship among the few forsaken Methodists; but, strangely enough, he also turned Calvinist, took possession of the meeting-house, and so divided the small society that only eight poor members were left remaining; and, before the year 1780, Methodism in Yarmouth was utterly defunct. Shortly after, a new society was formed; and, in 1783, a chapel was built, and was opened by Wesley, who says: “Often this poor society has been well-nigh shattered in pieces: first by Benjamin Worship, then a furious Calvinist, tearing away near half of them; next by John Simpson, turning antinomian, and scattering most that were left. It has pleased God, contrary to all human probability, to raise a new society out of the rest; nay, and to give them courage to build a new preaching house, which is well finished, and contains about five hundred persons.”

Wesley returned to London on January 24, and, finding the London society £610 in debt, three meetings were held, at which more than the whole was readily subscribed. The number of members had been reduced from 2800 to 2200. “Such,” says Wesley, “is the fruit of George Bell’s enthusiasm, and Thomas Maxfield’s gratitude.”

Whitefield was now in London, his health greatly enfeebled, often well-nigh breathless, but still struggling to preach three or four times a week.[635] Wesley writes: “January 31—Mr. Whitefield called upon me. He breathes nothing but peace and love. Bigotry cannot stand before him, but hides its head wherever he comes.”

From this period, there was a closer union between Whitefield and Wesley than there had been for the last quarter of a century. They had occasionally exchanged letters; and, sometimes, preached in each other’s pulpits; but there had been no hearty cooperation. Wesley’s plan of union among the evangelical clergymen of the Church of England had failed; he now entered into an alliance with Whitefield and the Countess of Huntingdon. In the month of October, 1765, her ladyship’s chapel at Bath had been opened by Whitefield, who had been succeeded by Messrs. Madan, Romaine, and Fletcher. About the same time, Charles Wesley named his third daughter Selina, as a mark of respect to the countess;[636] and, on August 21, 1766, wrote: “This morning I and my brother spent two blessed hours with George Whitefield. The threefold cord, we trust, will never more be broken. On Tuesday next, my brother is to preach in Lady Huntingdon’s chapel at Bath. That and all her chapels are now put into the hands of us three.”[637]

This was an important meeting. Wesley had just held his conference at Leeds, and had started on his usual autumnal tour, when he received, from Lady Huntingdon, a letter requesting him to come at once to London. Accordingly, he writes: “August 18—I turned off from the road I had designed to take, and on the 20th reached London. It was at the earnest request of ——, whose heart God has turned again, without any expectation of mine, that I came hither so suddenly; and if no other good result from it but our firm union with Mr. Whitefield, it is an abundant recompense for my labour. My brother and I conferred with him every day; and let the honourable men do what they please, we resolved, by the grace of God, to go on, hand in hand, through honour and dishonour.”

Wesley went direct, from this conference in London, to preach in her ladyship’s chapel in Bath. This was a remarkable event. Up to the present, the chapels of the Countess of Huntingdon had been almost as hermetically closed against him as the churches of the Church of England. Now, for a little season, it began to be otherwise. Wesley says: “1766, August 26—Many were not a little surprised at seeing me in the Countess of Huntingdon’s chapel, at Bath. The congregation was not only large, but serious; and I fully delivered my own soul. So I am in no concern, whether I preach there again, or no. I have no choice concerning it.“

Notwithstanding his avowed indifference, Wesley wrote to her ladyship, offering to preach in her chapel weekly during his intended stay in Bristol; and, in answer, she addressed to him the following important letter.

“_September 14, 1766._

“MY DEAR SIR,—I am most highly obliged by your kind offer of serving the chapel at Bath during your stay at Bristol: I mean on Sundays. It is an important time, being the height of the season, when the great of this world are only within reach of the sound of the gospel from that quarter. The mornings are their time; the evenings, the inhabitants’ chiefly.”

Her ladyship then proceeds to speak of the new alliance with Whitefield and herself.

“I do trust, that this union, which is commenced, will be for the furtherance of our faith, and mutual love to each other. It is for the interest of the best of causes, that we should all be found, first faithful to the Lord, and then to each other. I find something wanting, and that is, a meeting now and then agreed upon, that you, your brother, Mr. Whitefield, and I should, at regular times, be glad to communicate our observations upon the general state of the work. Light might follow, and would be a kind of guide to me, as I am connected with many.

“Pray, when you have leisure, let me hear from you, and believe me most faithfully your affectionate friend,

“S. HUNTINGDON.”[638]

Such was the proposed quadruple alliance, between the three great evangelists of the age and a noble Christian lady, who, had she been a man, would have aspired to be a bishop. The alliance, as will be seen hereafter, was not of long duration; but that probably was owing, not to the unfaithfulness of any of the four, but rather to Whitefield’s death; and the envious cabals of the Calvinistic clergy, by whom the countess was surrounded, and some of whom, as Southey says, “abounded as much with bigotry and intolerance as with zeal.”

Wesley fulfilled his promise, and, during the month of October, preached several times in the chapel of the countess at Bath; and, on one occasion, administered the sacrament of the Lord’s supper. At this period, the chapel was attended by not a few of the nobility: as Lord Camden, then lord chancellor of England, Lord Northington, Earl Chatham and family, Lord Rockingham, Lady Malpas, Lord and Lady Powys, Lord and Lady Buchan, the Duke of Bedford and family, Dr. Barnard, bishop of Londonderry, and last, but not least, Horace Walpole, who, in a letter to John Chute, Esq., dated “Bath, October 10, 1766,” gives the following lively, if not strictly accurate, description of what he saw and heard.

“I have been at one opera—Mr. Wesley’s. They have boys and girls, with charming voices, that sing hymns in parts to Scotch ballad tunes; but, indeed, so long, that one would think they were already in eternity, and knew not how much time they had before them. The chapel is very neat, with true gothic windows. I was glad to see that luxury is creeping in upon them before persecution.” [Here follows a description of the chapel.] “Wesley is a clean, elderly man, fresh coloured, his hair smoothly combed, but with a little _soupcon_ of curl at the ends. Wondrous clever, but as evidently an actor as Garrick. He spoke his sermon, but so fast, and with so little accent, that I am sure he has often uttered it, for it was like a lesson. There were parts and eloquence in it; but, towards the end, he exalted his voice, and acted very ugly enthusiasm, decried learning, and told stories, like Latimer, of the fool of his college, who said, ‘I _thanks_ God for everything.’ Except a few from curiosity, and _some honourable women_, the congregation was very mean.”[639]

Considering the many years during which Wesley had been accustomed to preach at Bath, it may seem strange to some, that he should now be preaching, not in his own chapel, but in another’s. The truth is, though so much time and labour had been bestowed on Bath, by himself, his brother, and their preachers, the results were exceeding small. They had a preaching place in Avon Street; but it was mean, and surrounded by a population not the most respectable. They had a society; but it was dwindling instead of growing. In 1757, the members were fifty-five in number; in 1762, they were thirty-one; in 1767, they were twelve. In a letter to Miss Bishop, in the last mentioned year, Wesley says: “We have had a society in Bath for about thirty years; sometimes larger and sometimes smaller. It was very small this autumn, consisting of only eleven or twelve persons, of whom Michael Hemmings was leader. I spoke to these one by one, added nine or ten more, divided them into two classes, and appointed half of them to meet with Joseph Harris.”[640]

But leaving the quadruple alliance already mentioned, we must return to Wesley’s gospel wanderings.

On the 10th of March, he set out, from London, on his long journey to the north. Coming, as usual, to Bristol, he wrote: “I rode to Kingswood, and having told my whole mind to the masters and servants, spoke to the children in a far stronger manner than ever I did before. I will kill or cure. I will have one or the other: a Christian school, or none at all.”

From Bristol, Wesley made his way to Stroud and Cheltenham. The latter town, like Bath, was a place of fashion and of pleasure, and, therefore, not a friendly soil for Methodism. Wesley had preached here twenty-two years before, “to a company,” he says, “who seemed to understand just as much of the matter as if he had been talking Greek.” He now tried again, out of doors, in the midst of a piercing wind, and none, rich or poor, went away till his sermon was concluded. Three years afterwards, the Methodist itinerants began to visit Cheltenham; and, among others converted, was Miss Penelope Newman,[641] who soon became the leader of two classes, and a select band,[642] and who, for years, was one of Wesley’s correspondents. Before her conversion, she kept a bookshop; afterwards, she devoted herself wholly to the work of God, making visits to adjacent towns and villages, and, like Sarah Crosby and others, occasionally giving public exhortations.[643] For long years, the meeting place of the Methodists at Cheltenham was a small house in Pitville Street, which was alternately occupied by them and by the baptists;[644] and such was the slow progress of Methodism in this place of fashionable resort, that it was not until the year 1813 that the Methodists obtained a chapel of their own, and even then there were only twenty in society.[645]

Leaving Cheltenham, Wesley proceeded to Evesham, where the mob, encouraged by the magistrate, made noise enough; but as they used neither stones nor dirt, Wesley says, “We were well contented.”

After preaching at Birmingham, Wesley, on March 20, paid his first visit to Burton on Trent, where Thomas Hanby had introduced Methodism by preaching in the house of a shoemaker, the mob smashing poor Crispin’s windows, and the preacher having to hide himself from his murderous enemies beneath the cutting board.[646]

Proceeding to Nottingham, Wesley preached in the octagon chapel, which had just been built at the cost of £128 2_s._ 7_d._ No wonder that he says, “it was filled with serious hearers.” Up to the present, the Nottingham Methodists had held their meetings in the house of Matthew Bagshaw, who, to accommodate the people, fixed, in the floor of his chamber, a large trap door, which, when lifted up, converted Matthew’s dormitory into a sort of gallery; and the preacher, standing in the aperture, with his head just through the floor, was thus enabled to preach to the female part of his congregation in the room below, and, at the same time, to the men occupying the room above.

From Nottingham, Wesley made his way to Sheffield. Here two Methodist meeting-houses had been demolished by Sheffield mobs; but a third was now erected in Mulberry Street, fifty-four feet long, and six-and-thirty wide, and in this Wesley preached on March 26. He writes: “We had a numerous congregation. There has been much disturbance here this winter; but to-night all was peace.” The disturbance mentioned was occasioned by a buffoon general leading on a mob of empty headed young fellows from sixteen to twenty years of age. Often were the cloaks and gowns of females cut into tatters with knives or scissors. Sometimes the chief, dressed as a harlequin, would enter the chapel, concealing, beneath his clothing, cats, or cocks and hens, whose mewings, cacklings, and crowings, were not calculated to improve the devotion of the people. When expelled from the interior of the building, he would contrive to climb the roof, where, in front of a large skylight nearly over the pulpit, he was wont to mimic the

## action of the preacher down below. The chapel windows were smashed,

and when shutters were put up, these were pelted with bricks, stones, and sticks. For some reason, the captain and his gang were quiet at the time Wesley preached; but their annoyances and persecutions were continued for three months longer; at the end of which the poor wretch was bathing in the Don, and, after besporting himself in the dingy river for a considerable time, exclaimed, with an air of mockery and mirth, “Another dip, and then for a bit more sport with the Methodists!” In he plunged; down he sunk; and, sticking in the mud, was drowned, before his associates could get him out.[647]

From Sheffield, Wesley proceeded to Eyam, Stockport, and Manchester. Here, as in London and Bristol and other places, there was a large decrease in the number professing Christian perfection. The fifty at Manchester had dwindled down to one third of that number.

Why was this? The reader must imagine an answer for himself; we profess only to furnish facts. Whitefield, of course, was an opponent of Wesley’s doctrine; perhaps because he scarcely understood it. In a letter dated “June 2, 1766,” he writes: “That _monstrous doctrine of sinless perfection_, for a while, turns some of its deluded votaries into temporary monsters.”[648] Charles Wesley was almost equally incredulous. Wesley addressing him on July 9, 1766, remarks: “That perfection which I believe, I can boldly preach; because, I think, I see five hundred witnesses of it. Of that perfection which you preach, you think you do not see any witness at all. I wonder you do not, in this article, fall in plumb with Mr. Whitefield. For do not you, as well as he, ask, ‘Where are the perfect ones?’ I verily believe there are none. I cordially assent to his opinion, that there is no perfection here such as you describe; at least, I never met with an instance of it, and I doubt I never shall. Therefore, I still think, to set perfection so high is effectually to renounce it.”[649]

Thus was Wesley between two fires; Whitefield setting the doctrine too low, and Charles Wesley setting it too high; and both of them ready to ridicule what Wesley called its witnesses. There can be no question, that some of those witnesses injured the doctrine instead of helping it. Wesley himself, on June 28 of this very year, writes to “Mrs. R.,” probably Sarah Ryan, finding fault with her in reference to this matter. “You _appear_,” says he, “to be above instruction from man. You _appear_ to think that none understands the doctrine of sanctification like _you_. Nay, you sometimes speak _as if_ none understood it _beside you_. You _appear_ to undervalue the experience of almost every one, in comparison of your own. I am afraid, also, you are in danger of enthusiasm. We know there are Divine dreams and impressions; but how easily may you be deceived herein! It has also been frequently said, with some _appearance_ of truth, that you endeavour to _monopolize_ the affections of all that fall into your hands; that you destroy the nearest and dearest connection they had before, and make them quite cool and indifferent to their most intimate friends.”[650]

If such superciliousness, fanaticism, and selfishness _appeared_ to be budding in a witness like Sarah Ryan, is it surprising that men like Whitefield should stand in doubt? Wesley, in this matter, almost stood alone, with the exception of his friend Fletcher, who wrote to him the following hitherto unpublished letter.

“MADELEY, _February 17, 1766_.

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—As this is the time that you generally plan your journeys, and you did not make Shropshire in your way last year, I beg leave to put you in mind, that Christ and you have some friends here, who would be glad to hear the word from your mouth, and treasure it up in honest and simple hearts. Could not you so order matters as to let us have you at Madeley one Sunday? If this should be impracticable, call some week day; this would be better than to pass us by altogether. The Lord, in mercy, gives me more love to these few sheep, and to the brethren in general, than I ever had, which makes my waiting upon them to be freedom; I hope it will be soon _perfect_ freedom.

“I think we must define exactly what we mean by the _perfection_ which is attainable here. In so doing we may, through mercy, obviate the scoffs of the carnal, and the misapprehension of the spiritual world, at least, in part. The light, that I now see the thing in, is this: as the body is not capable of perfection on this side the grave, all those powers of the soul whose exertion depends, in part, on the frame and well being of the body, or the happy flow of the animal spirits, will not, cannot be perfected here. Of this sort are, I apprehend: (1) the understanding; (2) the memory; (3) the passionate affections, or the affections as they work, by means of the animal spirits, on the animal frame. These are no doubt susceptible of admirable impressions, and very high improvements; but still, ‘_corpus affiget humi Divinæ

## particulam auræ_,’ more or less.

“The one power, then, that I see can be perfected here, because it is altogether independent from the body, is _the will_, and, of course, the _affections_ so far as they work on the will.

“I have had, for some time, a desire to execute the plan of a work, which appears to me likely to be useful, if God gives me wisdom to go through with it, and my friend’s help and direction. It should be by way of dialogues, not between fine gentlemen, like Theron and Aspasio; but, between a minister and one of his parishioners. Six dialogues upon these subjects: the doctrine of the fall; salvation by faith alone; the new birth; the inspiration of the Spirit; the necessity of feeling His operations; the assurance of salvation: each point proved by Scripture, reason, experience, and the authority of the church, with the most common objections answered. The second part would contain another set of dialogues, between the minister and other parishioners of different characters—(1) an infidel; (2) a formalist; (3) a moralist; (4) a worldling; (5) a railer at godly ministers and people; with proper answers to their respective objections. I bespeak your direction and corrections if I should execute this plan; and, that you may be better able to judge whether I am to set about it in earnest, or lay it aside, I shall prepare a dialogue for your perusal, by way of specimen.

“The gentleman from West Bromwich, which was at my house when you were here, has a hopeful son, seriously inclined, between fourteen and fifteen, who waits to be bound apprentice to some chemist or druggist, if one is to be found wanting an apprentice. Do you know of none in the circle of your acquaintance?

“Brother Mather is so kind as to strengthen my hands in the neighbourhood. I trust he will be an instrument of much good.

“I recommend myself to your prayers and direction; and, wishing that the Lord may renew and increase your bodily and spiritual strength daily,

“I remain, dear sir, your unworthy servant,

“JOHN FLETCHER.“

To this, Wesley replied as follows.

“LEWISHAM, _February 28, 1766_.

“What I mean by perfection, I have defined both in the first, and in the farther thoughts upon that subject. ‘Pure love, rejoicing evermore, praying always, in everything giving thanks.’ And I incline to think, the account you give will amount to the very same thing. But we may observe, that, naturally speaking, the animal frame will affect more or less every power of the soul; seeing, at present, the soul can no more _love_ than it can _think_ any otherwise than by the help of bodily organs. If, therefore, we either think, speak, or love aright, it must be by power from on high. And if our affections or will continue right, it must be by a _continued_ miracle. Have we reason to believe, or have we not, that God will _continually_ sustain the stone in the air?

“Allow yourself compass enough, and I do not doubt the work you speak of will be of use. But, I think, you will want to close the whole with a dialogue on Christian perfection. Unity and holiness are the two things I want among the Methodists. Who will rise up with me against all open or secret opposers of one or the other? Such are, in truth, all _prudent_, all _delicate_, all _fashionable_, all _half hearted_ Methodists. My soul is weary because of these murderers of the work of God. O let us go through with our work. Why should we not give _totum pro toto_? I hope you will always love and pray for, dear sir, your affectionate brother and servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[651]

This was strong language; but Wesley was a firm believer in the doctrine that he preached, and hence he was in earnest. There was a serious reaction in reference to Christian perfection, and he was exceedingly distressed. In May, 1766, he writes to Sarah Crosby: “A general faintness, in this respect, is fallen upon the whole kingdom. Sometimes, I seem almost weary of striving against the stream both of preachers and people.”[652] Wesley, however, continued striving, for, rightly or wrongly, he regarded the doctrine of Christian perfection as indispensable to a continuance of the work of God. Hence, the following, addressed to Mr. Merryweather, of Yarm.

“_February 8, 1766._

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—Where Christian perfection is not strongly and explicitly preached, there is seldom any remarkable blessing from God; and consequently little addition to the society, and little life in the members of it. Therefore, if Jacob Rowell is grown faint, and says but little about it, do _you_ supply his lack of service. Speak and spare not. Let not regard for any man induce you to betray the truth of God. Till you press the believers to expect _full salvation now_, you must not look for any revival.

“It is certain, God does, at some times, without any cause known to us, shower down His grace in an extraordinary manner; and He does, in some instances, delay to give either justifying or sanctifying grace, for reasons which are not discovered to us. These are some of those secrets of His government, which it hath pleased Him to reserve in His own breast. I hope you and your wife keep all you have, and gasp for more.

“I am your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[653]

We must again pursue Wesley in his journeyings.

Leaving Manchester, he came, on April 2, to Chester, whither the Gilbert family had removed from Kendal, and where he remained five days, preaching from the texts following: Romans viii. 32-34; John v. 8, 9; John xvii. 3; Matthew ix. 5; and Isaiah xxxv. 8.[654]

On April 7, he reached Warrington, where a society was already formed, and where he had “a large congregation,” at noonday, “of rich and poor, learned and unlearned.” He says: “I never spoke more plain; nor have I ever seen a congregation listen with more attention.” One of the members at this period was William Young, who, for about twenty years together, preached at Warrington every Monday night, extended his labours to many parts of Lancashire and Cheshire, and who died in 1823, uttering, as his last words on earth: “Come Lord Jesus; glory! glory! angels, angels, coming, coming to take me to Abraham’s bosom.”[655]

At Liverpool, Wesley examined the new trust deed of Pitt Street chapel, to which he objected, as follows: “1. It takes up three large skins of parchment, and so could not cost less than six guineas; whereas our own deed, transcribed by a friend, would not have cost six shillings. 2. It is verbose beyond all sense and reason; and withal so ambiguously worded, that one passage only might find matter for a suit of ten or twelve years in chancery. 3. It everywhere calls the house a meeting-house, a name which I particularly object to. 4. It leaves no power either to the assistant or me, so much as to place or displace a steward. 5. Neither I, nor all the conference, have power to send the same preacher two years together. To crown all,—6. If a preacher is not appointed at the conference, the trustees and the congregation are to choose one by most votes! Can any one wonder I dislike this deed, which tears the Methodist discipline up by the roots?”

On April 11, Wesley preached at Wigan, “to a large number of serious, well behaved people, mixed with a few as stupidly insolent creatures as he ever saw.” He then made his way to Brinsley, Bolton, Middleton, Chapel-en-le-Frith, Rotherham, Doncaster, Awkborough, Barrow, Grimsby, Louth, Horncastle, and other Lincolnshire towns and villages. He writes: “John Hill has done more mischief at Horncastle than a man of far greater talents can do good. By that unhappy division of the society, he has opened the mouths of all the gainsayers; and, to complete the scandal, he and six-and-twenty more have been dipped!” He adds: “I do not choose to preach above twice or thrice in a day; but when I am called to do more, it is all one: I find strength according to my need.”

On April 28, he got to York; and, the day after, preached in the new chapel at Thirsk; “almost equal,” he says, “to that at Yarm; and why not quite, seeing they had the model before their eyes, and had nothing to do but to copy after it? Is it not an amazing weakness, that, when they have the most beautiful pattern before them, all builders will affect to mend something?” This was a hard rap at good old Mr. Wells, who built the chapel;[656] but architects and builders who spoil chapels to gratify their own vain ambition have no right to wish or to expect tender treatment from those who suffer by their preposterous folly.

On reaching Newcastle, he spent nearly three weeks, partly in comparative rest, and partly in preaching, and in visiting neighbouring societies. He writes: “I know not to what it is owing, that I have felt more weariness this spring than I had done before for many years; unless to my fall at Christmas, which perhaps weakened the springs of my whole machine more than I was sensible of.”

On the 19th of May, he set out, with his wife and daughter,[657] for Scotland, preaching at Placey, Morpeth, Felton, Alnwick, Belford, and Berwick on the way. The next five weeks were employed in the towns and villages across the Tweed. The following are extracts from his Journal.

“Saturday, May 24.—I went to the room at Preston Pans; and I had it all to myself; neither man, woman, nor child offered to look me in the face; so I ordered a chair to be placed in the street. Then forty or fifty crept together; but they were mere stocks and stones; no more concerned than if I had talked Greek.”

“Monday, May 26: Edinburgh.—I spent some hours at the meeting of the National Assembly. I am very far from being of Mr. Whitefield’s mind, who greatly commends the solemnity of this meeting. I have seen few less solemn. I was extremely shocked at the behaviour of many of the members. Had any preacher behaved so at our conference, he would have had no more place among us.”

“Thursday, June 5: Dundee.—I took occasion to repeat most of the plausible objections which had been made to us in Scotland. I then showed our reasons for the things which had been objected to us; and all seemed to be thoroughly satisfied. The sum of what I spoke was this: I love plain dealing. Do not you? I will use it now. Bear with me. I hang out no false colours; but show you all I am, all I intend, all I do. I am a member of the Church of England; but I love good men of every church. My ground is the Bible; yea, I am a Bible bigot. I follow it in all things, both great and small. Therefore—1. I always use a short private prayer, when I attend the public service of God. Do not you? Why do you not? Is not this according to the Bible? 2. I stand, whenever I sing the praise of God in public. Does not the Bible give you plain precedents for this? 3. I always kneel before the Lord my Maker, when I pray in public. 4. I generally in public use the Lord’s prayer, because Christ has taught me, when I pray, to say, ——. I advise every preacher connected with me, whether in England or Scotland, herein to tread in my steps.”

“Sunday, June 8.—Knowing no reason why we should make God’s day the shortest of the seven, I desired Joseph Thompson to preach, at Aberdeen, at five. At eight, I preached myself. In the afternoon, I heard a strong, close sermon, at Old Aberdeen; and afterwards preached in the college kirk, to a very genteel, and yet serious congregation. I then opened and enforced the way of holiness, at New Aberdeen.”

“Sunday, June 15: Edinburgh.—Our room was very warm in the afternoon, through the multitude of people; a great number of whom were people of fashion, with many ministers. I spoke to them with the utmost plainness, and, I believe, not in vain. It is scarce possible to speak too plain in England; but it is scarce possible to speak plain enough in Scotland. If you do not, you lose all your labour, you plough upon the sand.”

“Wednesday, June 18: Glasgow.—What a difference there is between the society here, and that at Dundee. There are about sixty members there, and scarce more than six scriptural believers. Here are seventy-four members, and near thirty among them lively, zealous believers; one of whom was justified thirty years ago, and another of them two-and-forty; and several of them have been for many years rejoicing in God their Saviour.”

“Monday, June 23.—At Thorny Hill, I met with Mr. Knox’s ‘History of the Church of Scotland.’ And could any man wonder, if the members of it were more fierce, sour, and bitter of spirit, than some of them were? For what a pattern have they before them! I know it is commonly said, ‘The work to be done needed such a spirit.’ Not so! the work of God does not, cannot, need the work of the devil to forward it. A calm, even spirit goes through rough work far better than a furious one. Although, therefore, God did use, at the time of the Reformation, some sour, overbearing, passionate men, yet He did not use them because they were such, but notwithstanding they were so. And there is no doubt, He would have used them much more, had they been of an humbler and milder spirit.”

Wesley terminated his Scottish tour at Dumfries, and, in reaching Solway Frith, had a somewhat dangerous adventure. He writes: “June 24.—Designing to call at an inn by the frith side, we were directed to leave the main road, and go straight to the house which we saw before us. In ten minutes, Duncan Wright was embogged: however, the horse plunged on, and got through. I was inclined to turn back; but Duncan telling me I need only go a little to the left, I did so, and sunk at once to my horse’s shoulders. He sprung up twice, and twice sank again, each time deeper than before. At the third plunge, he threw me on one side, and we both made shift to scramble out. I was covered with fine, soft mud, from my feet to the crown of my head; yet, blessed be God, not hurt at all.”

Wesley was again in England; and, after visiting Whitehaven, rode, on June 30, more than seventy miles, through a rough, mountainous region, on his way to Barnard castle, where he says: “At six, I preached in an open space, adjoining to the preaching house. As the militia were in town, the far greater part of them attended, with a large congregation from town and country. It rained most of the time I was speaking; but, I believe, hardly six persons went away.”

On July 2, he preached in Weardale, and says: “Here a poor woman was brought to us, who had been disordered several years, and was now raving mad. She cursed and blasphemed in a terrible manner, and could not stand or sit still for a moment. However, her husband held her by main strength, although she shrieked in the most dreadful manner; but, in a quarter of an hour, she left off shrieking, and sat motionless and silent, till she began crying to God, which she continued to do, almost without intermission, till we left her.”

After spending three days at Newcastle, and in its neighbourhood, Wesley started for the south. At Yarm, on July 9, he held the quarterly meeting, and remarks: “The societies in this circuit increase; that is, among the poor; for the rich, generally speaking, ‘care for none of these things.’”

The Yarm circuit, at this period, extended as far south as Ripon, a distance of thirty miles, where some of the Methodists had been subjected to harsh and unlawful usage. This led Wesley to address the following characteristic letter to the Rev. Mr. Wanley, dean of Ripon; who, though a magistrate, had for many years refused to administer justice in the case of persecuted Methodists.[658]

“YARM, _July 9, 1766_.

“REVEREND SIR,—The regard which I owe to a fellow Christian, and much more to a clergyman and a magistrate, constrains me to trouble you with a few lines, though I have no personal acquaintance with you. Ralph Bell has just been giving me an account of the late affair at Ripon. What he desires is—(1) to have the loss he has sustained repaired; and (2) liberty of conscience; that liberty which every man may claim as his right, by the law of God and nature, and to which every Englishman, in particular, has a right by the laws of his country. I well know the advantage these laws give us in the present case: I say us, because I make the case my own, as I think it my bounden duty to do. I have had many suits in the King’s Bench, and, blessed be God, I never lost one yet. But I would far rather put an amicable end to any dispute, where it can be done. Not that I am afraid of being overborne by the expense: if I am not, I know them that are able to bear it. But I love peace. I love my neighbour as myself, and would not willingly bring loss or trouble upon any man. Be so good as to impute to this motive my interfering in this matter.

“I am, reverend sir, your servant for Christ’s sake,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[659]

Wesley was a man of peace; but he was not a man to relinquish lightly the lawful rights of himself and his people. With all the generosity of a great leader, he was as ready to fight for the poorest of his followers as for himself. A man unknown to fame, like Ralph Bell, of Ripon, was as sure to secure his sympathy as the most illustrious disciple that he had.

From Yarm, Wesley proceeded to the small village of Hutton Rudby, where there was the largest society in the Yarm circuit, and where only two out of the sixteen, who professed to be entirely sanctified two or three years before, had “lost the direct witness of that salvation.” At Stokesley, he preached in the new chapel; and went from there to Guisborough, Whitby, Robinhood’s Bay, Scarborough, Pickering, and Malton. In the two last mentioned towns, societies had been formed by John Manners, three years before; the members at Pickering numbering fifteen, and at Malton nineteen. Mr. Hebdon, a clergyman, commanded the churchwardens and constables to pull Mr. Manners down, and threatened that he would, in the week following, banish all the Methodists from the town and neighbourhood. It so happened, however, that, in going from an entertainment a few nights after, the vindictive parson fell from his horse, and broke his neck.[660]

From Malton, Wesley proceeded to Beverley, Hull, Pocklington, and York. Here an odd incident occurred. Wesley simply writes: “York, Sunday, July 20, 1766.—After preaching at eight, I went to St. Saviour-gate church. Towards the close of the prayers, the rector sent the sexton to tell me the pulpit was at my service. I preached on the conclusion of the gospel for the day, ‘Not every one that saith unto Me, Lord, Lord,’ etc. I did not see one person laugh or smile, though we had an elegant congregation.”

Wesley says no one laughed or smiled, a fact worth noting, for there was enough in the event to make men smile against their wish. The truth is, the rector, the Rev. Mr. Cordeux, in his simplicity, made a great mistake. On previous occasions, he had felt it to be his duty to warn his congregation against hearing “that vagabond Wesley preach”; and now he himself invited Wesley to preach to the very congregation who had been warned against him. The explanation of the affair is this: Wesley, after preaching in his own chapel at Peasholm Green, went in his canonicals to Mr. Cordeux’s church. Mr. Cordeux saw that he was a clergyman, and, without knowing who he was, offered him his pulpit. After service, he asked his clerk if he knew who the stranger was. The clerk replied, “Sir, he is the vagabond Wesley, against whom you warned us.” “Aye, indeed!” said the astonished rector, “we are trapped; but never mind, we have had a good sermon.” The Dean of York heard of the affair, and threatened to lay a complaint before the archbishop; but Mr. Cordeux outstripped the dean, and told the story to the archbishop before the dean could reach him. “You did right,” replied his grace; and so the matter ended, with the exception, that when Wesley came again, Mr. Cordeux made him a second offer of his pulpit, and Wesley preached upon the eight beatitudes.[661]

From York, Wesley went to Tadcaster and Pateley Bridge. At the latter place he had the largest congregation he had seen since he left Newcastle. “As it rained,” says he, “I desired the men to put on their hats; but, in two or three minutes, they pulled them off again, and seemed to mind nothing but how they might ‘know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.’” This devout behaviour was widely different to the rough treatment of Thomas Lee, fourteen years before, when his head was broken with a stone, and he himself rolled in the common sewer, and then thrown into the river.

On leaving Pateley, Wesley wended his way to Skipton, Addingham, Baildon, and Bradford. “At Bradford,” he writes, “there was so huge a multitude, and the rain so damped my voice, that many, in the skirts of the congregation, could not hear distinctly. They have just built a preaching house, fifty-four feet square, the largest octagon we have in England; and it is the first of the kind where the roof is built with common sense, rising only a third of its breadth; yet, it is as firm as any in England; nor does it at all hurt the walls. Why then does any roof rise higher? Only through want of skill, or want of honesty, in the builder.”

The first Methodist meeting-house in Bradford was the second floor of a large building near the cockpit, and which subsequently became the meeting place of the followers of Joanna Southcote, and then of the Swedenborgians, and then, in succession, was used as a barrack room, a paint shop, a school, a vagrants’ refuge, a warehouse, a printing office, and a joiner’s shop. Here the Methodists worshipped till about the year 1760, when the floor gave way, and they removed to Mr. Garnett’s barn. Then they erected the octagon chapel, so eulogised by Wesley, the first subscription to which, obtained by Richard Fawcett, amounted to the munificent sum of twopence,[662] and the entire cost of which was £997 8_s._ 9_d._[663]

From Bradford, Wesley made a tour to Colne, Padiham, Bacup, Heptonstall, Ewood, and Halifax. John Nelson had preached the first Methodist sermon in the last mentioned town, his pulpit being a washing tub turned upside down; and, among others who had been converted, was the celebrated Titus Knight, originally a poor collier, but ultimately one of Wesley’s itinerants, then an able Dissenting minister, and the father of a son who became vicar of this important town in Yorkshire. Another, who equally deserves notice, was a female, who suffered total blindness for nearly fourscore years, and who, when she joined the Methodists, had only three halfpence a day to live upon; and yet, out of that poor pittance, insisted upon giving a weekly contribution in her class, and assisted in paying the debts of Titus Knight.[664]

Grimshaw of Haworth was dead, and so was his son at Ewood; but Haworth church was still open; and, besides this, there was the small Methodist chapel, which had been built by Grimshaw, and which served the Methodists till 1828.[665] Grimshaw’s successor was the Rev. John Richardson, a native of Crosby, in Westmoreland, a man of polished manners, of unaffected piety, and of a mild and amiable disposition, and who died at Haworth a few weeks after Wesley died in London.[666]

Wesley had witnessed many a glorious scene in Grimshaw’s old churchyard; but never a more glorious one than awaited him on Sunday, August 3, 1766. He writes: “When the prayers at Haworth were ended, I preached from a little scaffold on the south side of the church. The communicants alone (a sight which has not been seen since Mr. Grimshaw’s death) filled the church. In the afternoon, the congregation was supposed to be the largest which had ever been there; but strength was given me in proportion; so that I believe all could hear.” He continues:

“Monday, August 4.—At one, I preached at Bingley, but with a heavy heart, finding so many of the Methodists here, as well as at Haworth, perverted by the anabaptists. I see clearer and clearer, none will keep to us, unless they keep to the Church. Whoever separate from the Church will separate from the Methodists.“

It will thus be seen that separation from the Church was still one of the ghosts that haunted Wesley’s path; and, hence, it will be found that this was one of the great topics discussed at his approaching conference, which was commenced in Leeds eight days after.

But before reviewing the proceedings of the conference, it is of some importance to understand the relation in which Wesley, at this time, stood towards his brother Charles. For many years, his brother had ceased to itinerate, and had confined his labours almost exclusively to London and Bristol; so that the gigantic toil of visiting all the Methodist societies in the United Kingdom fell upon Wesley himself. But, added to this, Charles Wesley was no longer his brother’s warm hearted, confidential counsellor. Charles disliked his brother’s marriage; and he was almost horrified at his brother’s concessions to the preachers who advocated separation from the Church; and, hence, without the thing being openly confessed, there was undoubtedly a sort of silent estrangement between them, very different from the close, genial, trustful, fraternal friendship which existed at the commencement of their Methodist career. The following extracts from Wesley’s letters refer to this.

“LEWISHAM, _February 28, 1766_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—We must, we must, you and I at least, be all devoted to God! Then wives, and sons, and daughters, and everything else, will be real, invaluable blessings. _Eia age, rumpe moras!_ Let us this day use all the power we have! If we have enough, well; if not, let us this day expect a fresh supply. How long shall we drag on thus heavily, though God has called us to be the chief conductors of such a work? Alas! what conductors! If I am, in some sense, the head, and you the heart, of the work, may it not be said, ‘The whole head is sick, and the whole heart is faint’? Come, in the name of God, let us arise, and shake ourselves from the dust! Let us strengthen each other’s hands in God, and that without delay. Have _senes sexagenarii_ time to lose? Let you and I, and our house, serve the Lord in good earnest. May His peace rest on you and yours! Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[667]

“WHITEHAVEN, _June 27, 1766_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—I think you and I have abundantly too little intercourse with each other. Are we not old acquaintance? Have we not known each other for half a century? and are we not jointly engaged in such a work as probably no two other men upon earth are? Why then do we keep at such a distance? It is a mere device of Satan. But surely, we ought not, at this time of day, to be ignorant of his devices. Let us, therefore, make full use of the little time that remains. We, at least, should think aloud, and use to the uttermost the light and grace on each bestowed, and insist everywhere on full redemption, receivable now by faith alone! consequently to be looked for now. You are made, as it were, for this very thing. Just here you are in your element. In connection I beat you; but in strong, short, pointed sentences, you beat me. Go on, in what God has peculiarly called you to. Press the instantaneous blessings; then I shall have more time for my peculiar calling, enforcing the gradual work.

“We must have a thorough reform of the preachers. I wish you would come to Leeds, with John Jones, in the machine. It comes in two days; and, after staying two days, you might return. I would willingly bear your expenses up and down. I believe it would help, not hurt, your health. My love to Sally.

“JOHN WESLEY.”[668]

Did Charles Wesley go to the conference at Leeds? It is probable he did; indeed, almost certain. Hence, in a letter to his wife at Bristol, written just about the date when the conference closed, he says: “My brother, I presume, will look upon you on Wednesday sennight, in his flight to the Land’s End. He is an astonishing youth! and may be saluted, like the eastern monarchs, ‘O king, live for ever!’”[669] It would thus seem, that Charles Wesley had seen his brother; and if so, it must have been at Leeds. The settling of this point is of considerable importance, inasmuch as at no conference did Wesley enter so elaborately into the three great questions of the day,—separation from the Church, his own administrative power, and what he calls, in the foregoing letter, “a thorough reform of the preachers.”

On the first of these points, the question is asked,—

“Are we not Dissenters? Answer.—We are irregular: 1. By calling sinners to repentance, in _all places_ of God’s dominion. 2. By frequently using _extemporary prayer_. Yet we are not _Dissenters_ in the only sense which our law acknowledges; namely, persons who believe it is sinful to attend the service of the Church; for we do attend it at all opportunities. We will not, dare not, separate from the Church, for the reasons given several years ago. We are not _seceders_, nor do we bear any resemblance to them. We set out upon quite opposite principles. The seceders laid the very foundation of their work, in judging and condemning _others_; we laid the foundation of our work, in judging and condemning _ourselves_. They begin everywhere, with showing their hearers, how fallen the _Church_ and _ministers_ are; we begin everywhere, with showing our hearers, how fallen they are _themselves_.

“And as we are not Dissenters from the Church now, so we will do nothing willingly, which tends to a separation from it. Therefore, let every assistant so order his circuit, that no preacher may be hindered from attending the church more than two Sundays in a month. Never make light of going to church, either by word or deed.

“But some may say, ‘Our own service is public worship.’ Yes, _in a sense_; but not such as supersedes the church service. We never designed it should. We have a hundred times professed the contrary. It presupposes public prayer, like the sermons at the university. Therefore, I have over and over advised, use no _long prayer_, either before or after the sermon. Therefore, I myself frequently use only a collect, and never enlarge in prayer, unless at intercession, or on a watchnight, or on some extraordinary occasion.

“If it were designed to be instead of church service, it would be essentially defective; for it seldom has the four grand parts of public prayer; deprecation, petition, intercession, and thanksgiving. Neither is it, even on the Lord’s day, concluded with the Lord’s supper.

“The hour for it on that day, unless where there is some peculiar reason for a variation, should be five in the morning, as well as five in the evening. Why should we make God’s day the shortest of the seven?

“But if the people put ours in the place of the church service, we _hurt_ them that stay with us, and _ruin_ them that leave us: for then they will go nowhere, but lounge the sabbath away without any public worship at all. I advise therefore all the Methodists in England and Ireland, who have been brought up in the Church, constantly to attend the service of the Church, at least every Lord’s day.”

This is a remarkable utterance—Wesley’s own. Methodists are urged to attend the service of the Church of England. Why? Because Methodist service was defective. But why was it defective? Not by accident, but of set purpose. It was meant to be a mere supplement to the more perfect devotional service of the church. Was this right? We doubt it. Wesley was no advocate for short prayers, resembling collects, except upon the ground that they were understood to be a sort of supplementary prayers following the more elaborated prayers of the Church of England. Those who quote Wesley, as recommending short prayers in all public worship, mistake his meaning. Wesley might be wrong,—we think he was,—in advising and sanctioning such abbreviated and imperfect devotion as was evidently practised in the public worship of the early Methodists; but he adduced a reason,—an inadequate reason,—for it; and, under the altered circumstances of the present age, would have been the last to approve of many of the _short prayers_ which some ill instructed Methodists are now so fond of praising.

The second point on which Wesley expressed himself was one of vast importance. He was the autocrat of Methodists. As was natural, some of his preachers, and probably not a few of the people, reasonably or unreasonably, objected to this, and wished to share in Methodist legislation and politics. Hence it was, that Wesley found it desirable to defend his authority, as he did, at the conference in Leeds. He writes:

“But what _power_ is this, which _you_ exercise over all the Methodists in Great Britain and Ireland? Answer. 1. In November, 1738, several persons came to me in London, and desired me to advise and pray with them. I said, ‘If you will meet on Thursday night, I will help you as well as I can.’ More and more then desired to meet with them, till they were increased to many hundreds. The case was afterwards the same at Bristol, Kingswood, Newcastle, and many other parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland. It may be observed, the desire was on _their_ part, not _mine_. My desire was to live and die in retirement. But I did not see that I could refuse them my help, and be guiltless before God.

“Here commenced my power; namely, a power to appoint when, and where, and how they should meet; and to remove those, whose life showed they had no desire to flee from the wrath to come. And this power remained the same, whether the people meeting together were twelve, twelve hundred, or twelve thousand.

“In a few days, some of them said, ‘Sir, we will not _sit under you_ for nothing. We will subscribe quarterly.’ I said, ‘I will have nothing, for I want nothing. My fellowship supplies me with all, and more than I want.’ One replied, ‘Nay, but you want £115 to pay for the lease of the Foundery; and likewise a large sum of money will be wanting, to put it into repair.‘ On this consideration, I suffered them to subscribe; and, when the society met, I asked, ‘Who will take the trouble of receiving this money, and paying it where it is needful?’ One said, ‘I will do it, and keep the account for you.’ So here was the first _steward_. Afterwards I desired one or two more to help me as stewards, and, in process of time, a greater number. Let it be remarked, it was I myself, not the people, who chose these stewards, and appointed to each the distinct work wherein he was to help me, as long as I desired. And, herein, I began to exercise another sort of _power_; namely, that of appointing and removing stewards.

“After a time, T. Maxfield, T. Richards, and T. Westall severally desired to serve me as sons, and to labour when and where I should direct. Observe, these likewise desired _me_, not I _them_. But I durst not refuse their assistance. And here commenced my _power_, to appoint each of these, when, where, and how to labour; that is, while he chose to continue with me; for each had a power to go away when he pleased; as I had, also, to go away from them, or any of them, if I saw sufficient cause. The case continued the same when the number of preachers increased. I had just the same power still, to appoint when, and where, and how each should help me, and to tell any, if I saw cause, ‘I do not desire your help any longer.’ On these terms, and no other, we joined at first; and on these we continue joined. But they do me no favour, in being directed by me. I have nothing from it but trouble and care, and often a burden I scarce know how to bear.

“In 1744, I wrote to several clergymen, and to all who then served me as sons in the gospel, desiring them to meet me in London, to give me their advice, concerning the best method of carrying on the work of God. _They_ did not desire this meeting, but _I_ did. And when their number increased, so that it was neither needful nor convenient to invite them all, for several years, I wrote to those with whom I desired to confer, and these only met me at the place appointed; till, at length, I gave a general permission, that all who desired it might come. Observe, I myself sent for these, of my own free choice; and I sent for them to _advise_, not _govern_ me. Neither did I, at any of those times, divest myself of any part of that _power_ above described, which the providence of God had cast upon me, without any design or choice of mine.

“What is that power? It is a power of admitting into, and excluding from, the societies under my care; of choosing and removing stewards; of receiving or not receiving helpers; of appointing them when, where, and how to help me; and of desiring any of them to meet me, when I see good. And as it was merely in obedience to the providence of God, and for the good of the people, that I at first accepted this power, so it is on the same considerations, not for profit, honour, or pleasure, that I use it at this day.

“But several gentlemen are much offended at my having so _much_ power. My answer to them is this: I did not seek any part of this power. It came upon me unawares. But when it was come, not daring to bury that talent, I used it to the best of my judgment. Yet, I never was fond of it. I always did, and do now, bear it as my burden; the burden which God lays upon me; but if you can tell me any one, or any five men, to whom I may transfer this burden, who _can_ and _will_ do just what I do now, I will heartily thank both them and you.

“But some of your helpers say, ‘This is _shackling free born Englishmen_,’ and demand a _free conference_; that is, a meeting of all the preachers, wherein all things shall be determined by most votes. I answer, it is possible, after my death, something of this kind may take place; but not while I live. To _me_ the preachers have engaged themselves to submit, to serve me as sons in the gospel. But they are not thus engaged to any man, or number of men, besides. To _me_ the people in general will submit; but they will not yet submit to any other. It is nonsense then to call my using _this power_, ‘shackling free born Englishmen.’ None needs to submit to it, unless he will; so there is no shackling in the case. Every preacher and every member may leave me when he pleases; but, while he chooses to stay, it is on the same terms that he joined me at first.

“‘But this is _arbitrary power_: this is no less than _making yourself a pope_.’ If by arbitrary power you mean a power which I exercise _singly_, without any colleagues therein, this is certainly true; but I see no hurt in it. _Arbitrary_, in this sense, is a very harmless word. If you mean _unjust_, _unreasonable_, or _tyrannical_, then it is not true.

“As to the other branch of the charge, it carries no face of truth. The pope affirms, that every Christian must do all he bids, and believe all he says, under pain of damnation. I never affirmed anything that bears the most distant resemblance to this. Therefore, all talk of this kind is highly injurious to _me_, who bear this burden merely for _your_ sakes. And it is exceedingly mischievous to the people, tending to confound their understandings, and to fill their hearts with evil surmisings, and unkind tempers towards _me_; to whom they really owe more, for exercising this very _power_, than for all my preaching put together. Because, preaching twice or thrice a day is no burden to me at all; but the care of all the preachers, and all the people, is a burden indeed!”

This was bold speaking. Hampson and others have accused Wesley of being “fond of power.” They say, “his temper was despotic, and that, during the last ten or fifteen years of his supremacy, he was the most absolute of monarchs. His will was the law. He never thought his authority secure, but when exerted to the utmost. The love of power was the chief misery of his life; the source of infinite disgusts; and the most frequent cause of the defections of his friends.”[670] Perhaps John Hampson was scarcely an impartial witness, inasmuch as Wesley’s power had checked his own ambition; but, at all events, the reader has, in the above lengthened extract, Wesley’s vindication of himself. No doubt his power was great,—almost unexampled among protestants; but he assigns reasons for it, and, unless he is suspected of insincerity,—a thing of which he was almost incapable,—all must give him credit for being actuated by high and conscientious motives. The wisdom of acting as he did is a fair subject for discussion; but the purity of his intentions can hardly be disputed.

Before passing to the third matter, “a thorough reform of the preachers,” it is desirable to know Wesley’s opinion of the people. He adds:

“I cannot but know more of the state of the Methodist preachers and people than any other person. The world says, ‘The Methodists are no better than other people.’ This is not true. Yet it is nearer the truth than we are willing to imagine. Personal religion is amazingly superficial amongst us. How little faith there is amongst us, how little communion with God! How little living in heaven, walking in eternity, deadness to every creature! How much love of the world! desire of pleasure, of ease, of praise, of getting money! How little brotherly love! What continual judging one another! What gossiping, evil speaking, talebearing! What want of moral honesty! What servants, journeymen, labourers, carpenters, bricklayers do as they would be done by? Which of them does as much work as he can? Set him down for a knave that does not. Who does as he would be done by, in buying and selling, particularly in selling horses? Write him knave that does not; and the Methodist knave is the worst of all knaves. Family religion is shamefully wanting, and almost in every branch. And the Methodists in general will be little better, till we take quite another course with them; for what avails _preaching alone_, though we could preach like angels!”

This is not a flattering picture of the first Methodists; but it is drawn by the man who knew them, and who, as he himself says, “was not prejudiced against them.” In such facts, Wesley found a reason for the castigation which he now administered to the preachers. The preachers preached; but he tells them plainly, they must do something more than this, otherwise “the Methodists will be little better than other people.” He continues: “We must instruct them _from house to house_”; and then follows an extract, from Baxter’s “Reformed Pastor,” on private instruction.

“Great as this labour is,” says Wesley, “it is absolutely necessary; for, after all our preaching, many of our people are almost as ignorant as if they had never heard the gospel. I study to speak as plainly as I can; yet, I frequently meet with those who have been my hearers for many years, who know not whether Christ be God or man; or that infants have any original sin. And how few are there, that know the nature of repentance, faith, and holiness! Most of them have a sort of confidence, that Christ will justify and save them, while the world has their hearts, and they live to themselves. And I have found, by experience, that one of these has learned more from an hour’s close discourse, than from ten years’ public preaching. O brethren, if we would generally set this work on foot in all our societies, and prosecute it skilfully and zealously, what glory would redound to God thereby! If the common ignorance were thus banished, and our vanity and idleness turned into the study of the way of life, and every shop and every house busied in speaking of the word and works of God, surely God would dwell in our habitations, and make them His delight. And this is necessary to the welfare of our people; many of whom neither believe nor repent to this day. Look round about, and see how many of them are still in apparent danger of damnation! And how can you walk, and talk, and be merry with such people, when you know their case? What cause have we to bleed before the Lord this day, that have so long neglected this great and good work! that have been preachers so many years, and have done so little, by personal instructions, for the saving of men’s souls! If we had but set on this work sooner, how many more might have been brought to Christ! And how much holier and happier might we have made our societies before now! And why might we not have done it sooner? There were many hindrances in the way; and so there are still, and always will be. But the greatest hindrance was in ourselves, in our dulness, and littleness of faith and love.

“But it is objected, ‘This course will take up so much time, that we shall have no time to follow our studies.’ I answer: (1) Gaining knowledge is a good thing; but saving souls is a better. (2) By this very thing, you will gain the most excellent knowledge of God and eternity. (3) You will have abundant time for gaining other knowledge too, if you spend all your mornings therein. Only sleep not more than you need; talk not more than you need; and never be idle, nor triflingly employed. (4) If you can do but one, either follow your studies, or instruct the ignorant, let your studies alone. I would throw by all the libraries in the world, rather than be guilty of the perdition of one soul.

“1. Let every preacher take an exact catalogue of those in society, from one end of each town to the other. 2. Go to each house, and give, with suitable exhortation and direction, the ‘Instructions for Children.’ 3. Be sure to deal gently with them, and take off all discouragements as effectually as you can. 4. Let your dealing with those you begin with be so gentle, winning, and convincing, that the report of it may move others to desire your coming.

“Perhaps in doing this it may be well, (1) After a few loving words spoken to all in the house, to take each person single into another room, where you may deal closely with them, about their sin, and misery, and duty. (2) Hear what the children have learned by heart. (3) Choose some of the weightiest points, and try, by further questions, how far they understand them. (4) Often, with the question, suggest the answer. (5) Before you leave them, engage the head of each family to call all his family every Sunday, before they go to bed, and hear what they can rehearse, and so continue until they have learned all ‘_The Instructions_’ perfectly.

“Let us, in every town, and wherever it is practicable, set upon this method in good earnest, and we shall soon find why _the people_ are not better, namely, because _we_ are not more _knowing_ and more _holy_.”

Such was Wesley’s great remedy for removing evil from among the Methodists,—not only _visiting_, but privately, and personally _instructing_, the people, and especially their children; and such, in his estimation, were the two great causes of the evil existing. The people were far from perfect; _because_ preachers were defective in knowledge and in holiness. He proceeds to ask:

“Why are we not more knowing? Because we are idle. We forget the very first rule, ‘Be diligent; never be unemployed a moment. Never be triflingly employed. Never while away time, neither spend any more time at any place than is strictly necessary.’ I fear there is altogether a fault in this matter; and, that few of us are clear. Which of you spends as many hours a day in _God’s work_, as you did formerly in _man’s work_? We talk, talk,—or read history, or what comes next to hand. We must, absolutely must, cure this evil, or give up the whole work. But how? (1) Spend all the morning, or at least five hours in twenty-four, in reading the _most useful_ books, and that regularly and constantly. ‘But I read only the Bible.’ Then you ought to teach others to read only the Bible, and, by parity of reason, to _hear only_ the Bible. But if so, you need preach no more. Just so said George Bell; and what is the fruit? Why now he neither reads the Bible, nor anything else. This is rank enthusiasm. If you need no book but the Bible, you are got above St. Paul. He wanted others too. ‘But I have _no taste_ for reading.’ Contract a taste for it by use, or return to your trade. ‘But different men have different tastes.’ Therefore some may read less than others; but none should read less than this. ‘But I have no books.’ I will give each of you, as fast as you will read them, books to the value of £5; and I desire the assistants will take care, that all the large societies provide the Christian Library for the use of the preachers. (2) In the afternoon, follow Mr. Baxter’s plan. Then you will have no time to spare; none for learning Latin, or Greek, or Hebrew: you will have work enough for all your time. Then, likewise, no preacher will stay with us, who is as salt that has lost its savour; for, to such, this employment would be mere drudgery. The sum is, go into _every house_, in course, and teach _every one_ therein, young and old, if they belong to us, to be Christians inwardly and outwardly. Make every particular plain to their understanding. Fix it in their memory. Write it on their heart. Read, explain, and enforce the rules of the society; the ‘Instructions for Children’; the fourth volume of sermons; and Philip Henry’s method of family prayer. Over and above, where there are ten children in a society, spend, at least, an hour with them twice a week; and do this, not in a dull, dry, formal manner, but in earnest, with your might. ‘But I have no gift for this.’ Gift or no gift, you are to do it, else you are not called to be a Methodist preacher. Do it as you can, till you can do it as you would. Pray earnestly for the gift; particularly studying the children’s tracts.”

Such was Wesley’s plan to increase the preachers’ knowledge: at least five hours a day spent in reading the most useful books; and every afternoon devoted to private intercourse with the people and their children.

His next aim was to increase their holiness; hence the question,—

“Why are not _we_ more holy? breathing the whole spirit of _missionaries_? Answer.—Because we are enthusiasts; looking for the end, without using the means. In order to be thoroughly convinced of this, we need only consider the first minutes, and each examine himself upon each article. To touch only upon two or three instances. Do you rise at four? or even at five, when you do not preach? Do you fast once a week? once a month? Do you know the obligation or benefit of it? Do you recommend the five o’clock hour for private prayer? Do you observe it? Do not you find that _any time_ is _no time_?”

None but a man like Wesley would have dared to use faithful dealing like this; and none but men like Wesley’s itinerants would have quietly submitted to such a castigation. He was evidently determined to kill or to cure; or, to employ his own expression, to “have a thorough reform of the preachers.” For the first time, we have a list of the questions proposed to every preacher on probation before his being received into full connexion.

“Have you faith in Christ? Are you _going on to perfection_? Do you expect to be _perfected in love_, in this life? Are you groaning after it? Are you resolved to devote yourself _wholly_ to God and His work? Do you know the _Methodist doctrine_? Have you read _the sermons_, and _the Notes_ on the New Testament? Do you know the _Methodist plan_? Have you read the _Plain Account_, and _the Appeals_? Do you know the _rules_ of the society, and of the bands? and do you keep them? Do you take no snuff? Tobacco? Drams? Do you constantly attend the church and sacrament? Have you read the Minutes, and are you willing to conform to them? Have you considered the twelve rules of a helper; especially the first, tenth, and twelfth; and will you keep them for conscience sake? Are you determined to employ _all_ your time in the work of God? Will you preach every morning and evening; endeavouring not to speak too loud, or too long; not lolling with your elbows? Have you read the ‘Rules of Action and Utterance’? Will you meet the society, the bands, the select society, and the leaders of bands and classes in every place? Will you diligently and earnestly instruct the children, and visit from house to house? Will you recommend fasting, both by precept and example?”

These questions,—with the exception of those concerning attendance at church and sacrament, the reading of the “Rules of Action and Utterance,” the meeting of the societies, etc., and an important modification of that concerning preaching every morning and every night,—are still put to all candidates for the Methodist ministry, and are expected to be answered affirmatively before such candidates are admitted to ordination. If answered sincerely and truly, the Methodist ministry, in diligence, in piety, and in success, would have no superiors.

Much space has been occupied with the proceedings of the conference of 1766, but they were far too important to be omitted, or materially abridged. Other matters claimed attention at that conference, though inferior to the foregoing. For instance, it was ascertained, that the debts on the Methodist chapels, throughout the kingdom, amounted to £11,383. “We shall be ruined,” writes Wesley, “if we go on thus.” It was resolved, that the obnoxious trust deed at Liverpool, which has been already mentioned, should be substituted by another; that no classes should meet in chapels; that the rules of the society should be given to every one when taken on trial; that the rules relating to ruffles, lace, snuff, and tobacco, should be calmly but vigorously enforced; and, that the sermons on wandering thoughts, indwelling sin, the Lord our Righteousness, and the Scripture way of salvation, should be carefully distributed.[671] This was one of the most important conferences that Wesley ever held. Considering the plain dealing that had been employed, it is as gratifying as it is a matter of surprise, to find Wesley saying: “Tuesday, August 12—Our conference began, and ended on Friday evening. A happier conference we never had, nor a more profitable one. It was both begun and ended in love, and with a solemn sense of the presence of God.”

On the day that Wesley opened his conference at Leeds, his house at Windmill Hill, London, was entered by burglars, and a quantity of linen and wearing apparel stolen.[672] On the 20th of August, he reached London himself; and, on the 25th, set out for Bath, Bristol, and Cornwall.

On his way to the west of England, Wesley opened the new chapel at Shaftesbury. He says: “August 29, 1766—I preached in the new house, filled within and without, to the no small astonishment, it seemed, of most of the hearers.”[673]

The next day, August 30, he writes: “We rode to Stallbridge, long the seat of war, by a senseless, insolent mob, encouraged by their betters, so called, to outrage their quiet neighbours. For what? Why, they were mad; they were Methodists. So, to bring them to their senses, they would beat their brains out. They broke their windows, leaving not one whole pane of glass, spoiled their goods, and assaulted their persons with dirt, and rotten eggs, and stones, whenever they appeared in the street. But no magistrate, though they applied to several, would show them either mercy or justice. At length they wrote to me. I ordered a lawyer to write to the rioters. He did so; but they set him at nought. We then moved the court of King’s Bench. By various artifices they got the trial put off, from one assizes to another, for eighteen months. But it fell so much the heavier on themselves, when they were found guilty; and, from that time, finding there is law for Methodists, they have suffered them to be at peace. I preached near the main street without the least disturbance, to a large and attentive congregation.”

At Ashburton, many of Wesley’s congregation “behaved with decency; but the rest with such stupid rudeness as he had not seen, for a long time, in any part of England.”

At Plymouth, “at the close of his sermon, a large stone was thrown in at one of the windows, and fell at his feet.”

At Truro, he says: “I was in hopes, when Mr. Walker died, the enmity in those who were called his people would have died also; but it is not so; they still look upon us as rank heretics, and will have no fellowship with us.”

At Helstone, he “preached to an exceeding large and serious congregation.” He writes: “What a surprising change is wrought here, within a few years, where a Methodist preacher could hardly go through the street without a shower of stones!”

Methodism was introduced into Helstone by Mr. Hitchens, one of Wesley’s first preachers; and the first class was led by Mrs. Triggs, the daughter of a clergyman, and a woman of superior mind and character.[674] Once, while the Helstone Methodists were assembled in their preaching room, one of them unaccountably observed, “We will not hold our meeting here to-night, but at the house of ——.” For a time, the others objected; but, at last, yielded, and went to the house which had been mentioned. Strangely enough, before the adjourned meeting was concluded, a fire broke out, and, in its progress, seized on a large quantity of gunpowder, by the explosion of which the old Methodist meeting room was blown to atoms.[675]

Another anecdote, relating to Helstone, deserves notice. “I was born,” said old Peter Martin, “at Helstone in 1742. My wife is ninety-four years old, and our united ages amount to one hundred and ninety-one years. I have been sexton of Helstone parish sixty-five years. I first heard Mr. Wesley preach in the street, near our market house, seventy-four years ago. I had an adventure with him while I was ostler at the London Inn. One day, he came, and obtained my master’s leave for me to drive him to St. Ives. On arriving at Hayle, we found the sands, between that place and St. Ives, overflown by the rising tide. Mr. Wesley was resolved to go on; for he said he had to preach at St. Ives at a certain hour, and must be there. Looking out of the carriage window, he called, ‘Take the sea! take the sea!’ In a moment, I dashed into the waves, and was quickly involved in a world of waters. The horses were swimming, and the wheels of the carriage not unfrequently sunk into deep hollows in the sands. I expected every moment to be drowned, but heard Mr. Wesley’s voice, and saw his long white hair dripping with salt water. ‘What is your name, driver?’ he calmly asked. I answered, ‘Peter.’ ‘Peter,’ said he, ‘Peter, fear not; thou shalt not sink.’ With vigorous whipping I again urged on the flagging horses, and at last got safely over. Mr. Wesley’s first care was to see me comfortably lodged at the tavern; and then, totally unmindful of himself, and drenched as he was with the dashing waves, he proceeded to the chapel, and preached according to his appointment.”[676]

Having spent a fortnight among the Cornish Methodists, everywhere preaching to large and attentive congregations, Wesley returned, on September 23, to Bristol. Here, and at Bath, and in the surrounding country, he employed the next four weeks; and, on October 25, came to London, and wrote: “How pleasing would it be to play between London and Bristol, and preach always to such congregations as these! But what account then should I give of my stewardship when I can ‘be no longer steward’?”

In the autumn of this year, he received two letters from Captain Scott, who was stationed with his regiment at Northampton.[677] Here Mr. Blackwell and Mr. Glasbrook had been preaching, the regimental riding house serving as the place of meeting. Large crowds flocked to hear, and numbers were converted. Captain Scott urged Wesley to send an additional preacher to the Bedford circuit, who might take Northampton and the surrounding villages. “The Lord,” says he, “has opened you a door in Northampton at last, and will perhaps condescend to make us, unworthy creatures, instruments of assisting you. I therefore wish you were well established there before we leave. As persons of all ranks go to hear, I hope you will send a preacher that will be acceptable to them; for the work, being in its infancy, might be injured, if one was sent they did not like.” Wesley was not the man to neglect an opening like this; and, accordingly, on November 10, set out. On his way, however, he found that James Glasbrook had made arrangements for his preaching every day in Bedfordshire, and, hence, he was obliged to send Richard Blackwell to Northampton to supply his place. In this way, principally by means of soldiers, Methodism was planted in this important town, and here, as elsewhere, began to fulfil its mission.

With the exception of his usual Kentish tour, the rest of the year was spent in London. Here he preached on family religion, which he calls “the grand desideratum among the Methodists.” He also delivered one or more discourses, as he had previously done in Bristol, on the education of children, “wherein,” says he, “we are shamefully wanting.” Some of the Bristol people answered, by saying, “Oh, he has no children of his own!” But the London Methodists were convinced of their defects. He also commenced a course of sermons on Christian perfection, “if haply,” says he, “that thirst after it might return, which was so general a few years ago. Since that time, how deeply have we grieved the Holy Spirit of God! Yet two or three have lately received His pure love: and a few more are brought to the birth.”

Every one must be struck with Wesley’s almost unequalled labours,—labours prosecuted, not for honour, inasmuch as, for the present, at all events, they only brought him contempt and ridicule; nor for fortune, inasmuch as he took nothing from the people among whom he laboured, except, occasionally when his purse was empty, a few pence or shillings to pay his turnpike gates or his ostler’s bill. Indeed, money, like all his other talents, he devoted entirely to the work of God. He sometimes had it; but he never kept it. “Hundreds and thousands,” says Thomas Olivers, “are for ever draining Mr. Wesley’s pocket to the last shilling, as those about him are eye witnesses.”[678]

A remarkable instance of this occurred in the year 1766. Two years before, when at Durham, he met with Miss Lewen, a young lady of about two-and-twenty, with a yearly income of £600, at her own disposal. Some months previously, she had found peace with God, and had joined the Methodists. A friendship sprung up. Her father treated Wesley with the utmost civility, and said, he had done his daughter more good than all the physicians had; and wished her to go to London, where she might have the benefit of his advice, and also communion with his people. She went, and made her abode with Miss Bosanquet, Sarah Crosby, and Sarah Ryan, at their orphanage at Leytonstone. Her health was exceedingly infirm, suffering as she did from a heart disease. In October, 1766, after a few days’ illness, she expired; some of her last words being, “Oh now I know I shall be with Christ for ever! Yes, I shall be with Thee, O Lord, for ever! Oh for ever! for ever! for ever! Yes! I shall be with Thee for ever!”[679] Wesley went to visit her, but found her dead; and, after describing her last moments, writes: “So died Margaret Lewen! a pattern to all young women of fortune in England: a real Bible Christian.”

Wesley’s serious accident, by the falling of his horse in Southwark, at the end of 1765, has been already mentioned. A few months after, Miss Lewen gave him a chaise and a pair of horses,[680] which, as occasion required, he began to use. She also left him a legacy of £1000, and “a sum of money,” says _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, “to build a chapel, under his direction.” The latter statement is a doubtful one; but it is a fact that, in a codicil, she bequeathed to Miss Bosanquet’s orphanage £2000, and wished to make it ten or twelve; but Miss Bosanquet prevailed upon her to let her take the codicil and burn it.[681] Considerable unpleasantness ensued; but, on August 11, 1767, Wesley writes: “I came to a friendly conclusion with Mr. Lewen. He agreed to pay the legacies on the 2nd of November, and we relinquished the residue of the estate. So the harpy lawyers are happily disappointed, and the design of the dying saint, in some measure, answered.”

By Miss Lewen’s will Wesley became the owner of £1000, probably the largest sum that he ever had in his possession. The money, however, was soon gone. In reference to it, Wesley says: “I am God’s steward for the poor;”[682] and among the poor it was speedily distributed. His own sister, Mrs. Hall, deserted by her worthless husband, applied for a portion, but applied too late. Hence the following characteristic letter, written within two years after Miss Lewen’s death.

“KINGSWOOD, _October 6, 1768_.

“DEAR PATTY,—You do not consider, money never stays with _me_: it would burn me if it did. I throw it out of my hands as soon as possible, lest it should find a way into my heart. Therefore, you should have spoken to me while I was in London, and before Miss Lewen’s money flew away. However, I know not, but I may still spare you £5, provided you will not say, ‘I will never ask you again,’ because this is more than you can tell; and you must not promise more than you can perform.

“Oh how busy are mankind! and about what trifles! Things that pass away as a dream! Vanity of vanities, all is vanity, but to love and serve God.

“I am, dear Patty, your ever affectionate,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[683]

It is pleasant to be loved; it is painful to be hated and despised. Wesley had as great a share of both hatred and affection as most who have ever lived. For more than thirty years, he had been the butt of malice, as well as the object of Christian sympathy and love. He was the cynosure towards which both loving and malignant eyes were turned. This state of things still continued. Much has been already said concerning Methodist persecution; much yet remains unsaid.

In 1766, a translation of Formey’s Ecclesiastical History, in two volumes, was given to the public, and had attached to it an appendix, containing “an account of Mr. Wesley and his sect.” The translator tries to write fairly, but still speaks of Wesley’s doctrines as issuing “in spiritual pride,” and as having a dangerous influence on “virtuous practice.”

The _Gospel Magazine_, also, deemed it its pious duty to publish “A Dialogue between the Foundery and the Tabernacle, occasioned by the late publication of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s sermon upon ‘Imputed Righteousness.’” The Tabernacle, of course, bombards the Foundery, and thinks that it wins a glorious victory. Wesley “writes neither with the wisdom of the scholar, the judgment of the divine, the ability of the critic, nor with a becoming mildness and moderation. His principles also are very erroneous.”

Laurence Sterne, clever but self conceited, pretentiously generous, but sensually selfish, published his “Yorick’s Sermons and Meditations,” and adorned them by describing Methodist preachers as “illiterate mechanics, much fitter to make a pulpit than to get into one.”

The Rev. John Tottie, D.D., archdeacon of Worcester, and chaplain in ordinary to his majesty, at the request of the clergy, issued “Two Charges, delivered in the diocese of Worcester, in the years 1763 and 1766: one against the Papists, and the other against the Methodists”; the reverend archdeacon advancing the postulatum, that “the tenets and practices of the Methodist teachers are conformable to those of the papists, and have a direct tendency to lead men into popery.”

Not only Churchmen, but Dissenters, mustered to the battle. A shilling pamphlet was published, with the title, “The Causes and Reasons of the present Declension among the Congregational Churches in London and the Country; interspersed with reflections on Methodism and Sandemanianism.” Methodism was growing; congregationalism was declining. Why? The writer attributes the declension to “the encroachments of the Methodists and the Sandemanians”; and strongly censures the congregationalists for their “departure from the Bible, for the sake of following the inventions of men, the cant of fanatics, and the nostrums of systematic divines.”

Poetry likes to live among flowers, and in scenes of sublimity and beauty; in 1766, it found a fresh well of inspiration, and made the old Foundery its Helicon. The newspapers were enriched with poetical effusions, like “A Modern Summer’s Evening,” in which

“Methodists to church repair, Porters, tinkers, crowds, in shoals, Pious cobblers mend, with prayer, More their own than neighbours’ souls.”[684]

Besides these, the public were amused by the publication of “The Methodist and Mimic,” a tale in Hudibrastic verse; by Peter Paragraph; inscribed to Samuel Foote, Esq., who doubtless nursed the bantling with natural affection.

There was also “The New Bath Guide; or, Memoirs of the B—r—d Family, in a series of poetical Epistles;” the whole of which are rakish, vile productions, and that on Methodism so pollutingly obscene, that it would be criminal to quote it.

And then, to crown the whole, there was “The Methodist. A poem. By the author of the ‘Powers of the Pen,’ and the ‘Curate.’” Two extracts may be given as fair specimens of the whole. After portraying Whitefield, the illustrious poet describes Wesley thus.

“A second agent, like the first, Who on demoniac milk was nursed, Had Moorfields trusted to his care, For Satan keeps an office there. Lean is the saint, and lank, to show That flesh and blood to heaven can’t go; His hair, like candles, hangs—a sign How bright his inward candles shine.”

Wesley’s itinerants afford the poetic author wondrous amusement. A very few of his sketchy couplets must suffice.

“Salvation now is all the cant; Salvation is the only want: Of the new birth they prate, and prate, While midwifery is out of date. Every mechanic will commence Orator, without mood or tense. The bricklayer throws his trowel by, And now builds mansions in the sky. The cobbler, touched with holy pride, Flings his old shoes and lasts aside, And now devoutly sets about Cobbling of souls that ne’er wear out. The baker, now a preacher grown, Finds man lives not by bread alone, And now his customers he feeds With prayers, with sermons, groans, and creeds. Weavers, inspired, their shuttles leave, Sermons and flimsy hymns to weave. Barbers unreaped will leave the chin, To trim and shave the man within. The gardener, weary of his trade, Tired of the mattock and the spade, Changed to Apollo in a trice, Waters the plants of paradise. The fishermen no longer set For fish the meshes of their net; But catch, like Peter, men of sin, For catching is to take them in.”

All the rest is in keeping with this, except that some of the lines are not only ribald, but obscene.

This was the sort of jeering which Wesley had to meet,—jeering which he was often powerless to prosecute, and which it was beneath his dignity to answer. Besides this, he was too much occupied with his own great work to turn aside to chastise all the curs that availed themselves of the liberty to snarl and bark at him. His societies were now so numerous and important, that it was a gigantic task to visit them, and regulate their multifarious affairs once a year. In addition, he was bringing out his Notes on the Old Testament, a work, in itself, quite sufficient for the time and energies of any ordinary man; and, further, he had to enforce and to defend his doctrine of Christian perfection, a doctrine imperfectly understood, and bitterly assailed. Hence the publication of a small 12mo volume of 162 pages, entitled, “A Plain Account of Christian Perfection, as believed and taught by the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, from the year 1725, to the year 1765.” “What I purpose,” says he, “is to give a plain and distinct account of the steps by which I was led, during a course of many years, to embrace the doctrine of Christian perfection.” The book is really historical, rather than doctrinal, and is intended to show, that Wesley’s present views were substantially the views which he had held for the last forty years. This was unquestionably true, with the one exception of his now teaching, that Christian perfection is attainable in _an instant_, and by _faith only_. When did Wesley begin to teach this? He says, in 1741; but the only evidence he adduces, in support of his affirmation, is the hymn, then published, beginning with the line,

“Lord, I believe a rest remains;”

and containing the following stanzas.

“Oh that I now the rest might know, _Believe_ and enter in! _Now_, Saviour, _now_, the power bestow, And let me cease from sin!

Remove this hardness from my heart, This _unbelief_ remove; To me the rest of _faith_ impart, The sabbath of Thy love!”

The question here raised is not whether Wesley’s doctrine be true, or whether it be false; but simply when he _began_ to preach it. He says, from the beginning; Dr. Whitehead says otherwise. He writes: “Though Mr. Wesley had so long held the doctrine of Christian perfection, he had _not always_ held, that this state of mind might be attained _in one moment_; much less, that a person might attain it in his _novitiate_; nor do I know, that there were any professors of it _before_ 1760, except when death was approaching.”[685]

Who will decide this question? It is full of interest, and is not without importance.

1767.

[Sidenote: 1767 Age 64]

Charles Wesley was still preaching, alternately, in London and in Bristol; and was writing and publishing his magnificent “Hymns on the Trinity,” and his “Hymns for the Use of Families.”[686]

Whitefield’s health was better, and he was able to spend most of the year 1767 in itinerating throughout England and Wales, and in preaching to assembled thousands. At Rodborough, he writes: “I was regaled with the company of some simple hearted, first rate old Methodists, of near thirty years’ standing.”[687] At Haverfordwest, he says: “I am just come from my field throne. Thousands and thousands attended by eight in the morning. Life and light seemed to fly all around. Who knows but preaching may be our grand catholicon again? This is the good methodistical, thirty year old medicine.”[688] Again: “Who knows but I may be strengthened to take a trip to Scotland? This itch after itinerating I hope will never be cured till we come to heaven.”[689] At Newcastle, he writes: “I have a blessed Methodist field street preaching plan before me. You may venture to direct for me at Mr. William Shent’s, peruke maker, at Leeds; but send me no bad news, unless absolutely necessary. Let me enjoy myself in my delightful itinerancy. It is good, both for my body and soul.”[690] At Thirsk, in another letter, and in the same strain, he remarks: “My body feels much fatigue in travelling; comforts in my soul overbalance. Every stage, more and more, convinces me that old Methodism is the thing—Hallelujah!”[691] And, again, on his return to London, in October, he observes: “I am just returned from my northern circuit, which has been pleasant, and I trust profitable. Everywhere the fields have been white unto harvest. I am become a downright street and field preacher. I wish the city, and want of riding, may not hurt me. No nestling, no nestling on this side Jordan. Heaven is the believer’s only resting place. There we shall not be disturbed.”[692]

Whitefield was again in his best beloved element. Alas! not for long!

With the exception of a short visit to Colchester, Norwich, and Yarmouth, Wesley spent the first two months of 1767 in London; and, on Ash Wednesday, March 4, “dined at a friend’s with Mr. Whitefield, still breathing nothing but love.” The two Wesleys and Whitefield, three old friends, were now “a threefold cord not quickly broken.” Their opinions differed, but their hearts were one. Ever and anon, means were used to create division; but the efforts failed. In some things, Wesley and his brother held conflicting sentiments so strongly, that it was difficult to work in harmony; but love not only ruled their hearts, but their speech and lives. The following letter, addressed to Charles Wesley, is illustrative of this.

“LONDON, _February 12, 1767_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—What I mean is, Bishop Lowth is sometimes hypercritical, and finds fault where there is none. Yet, doubtless, his is the best English grammar that is extant. I never saw ‘Hermes’; the author of it is a rooted deist.

“Pray take care that brother Henderson wants nothing. Sickness is an expensive thing.

“You are not yet (nor probably I) aware of pickthanks. Such were those who told you I did not pray for you by name in public; and they are liars into the bargain, unless they are deaf.

“The voice of one, who truly loves God, surely is,—

‘’Tis worse than death my God to love, And not my God alone.’

“Such an one is certainly ‘as much athirst for sanctification as he was once for justification.’ You remember, this used to be one of your constant questions. It is not now; therefore, you are altered in your sentiments: and, unless we come to an explanation, we shall inevitably contradict each other. But this ought not to be in any wise, if it can possibly be avoided.

“I still think, to disbelieve all the professors” [of sanctification] “amounts to a denial of the thing. For if there be no living witness of what we have preached for twenty years, I cannot, dare not, preach it any longer. The whole comes to one point: is there, or is there not, any instantaneous sanctification between justification and death? I say, yes. You often seem to say, no. What arguments brought you to think so? Perhaps they may convince me too.

“There is one question more, if you allow me there is such a thing; can one who has attained it fall? Formerly I thought not; but you, with Thomas Walsh and John Jones, convinced me of my mistake.

“On Monday I am to set out for Norwich. Divide the men and women at once: so we do in London. I shall not be in town again till this day fortnight.

‘Oh for a heart to praise my God!’

“What is there beside? Παντα γελως και παντα κονις. Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[693]

At this period the versatile Dr. Dodd was a large contributor to the _Christian Magazine_, for which service he received £100 per annum. Eleven years previous to this, Wesley had condescended to enter into a long correspondence with him, on the subject of Christian perfection.[694] Dodd, under a fictitious name, now revived the subject; and Wesley says, “I at length obliged Dr. Dodd by entering into the lists with him.” Wesley’s letter was published in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, of April 3, 1767.

“_March 26, 1767._

“SIR,—Many times, the publisher of the _Christian Magazine_ has attacked me without fear or wit; and, hereby, he has convinced his impartial readers of one thing, at least, that (as the vulgar say), ‘his fingers itch to be at me;’ that he has a passionate desire to measure swords with me. But I have other work upon my hands: I can employ the short remainder of my life to better purpose.

“The occasion of his late attack is this: five or six and thirty years ago, I much admired the character of a perfect Christian drawn by Clemens Alexandrinus. Five or six and twenty years ago, a thought came into my mind, of drawing such a character myself, only in a more scriptural manner, and mostly in the very words of Scripture. This I entitled the ‘Character of a Methodist,’ believing, that curiosity would incite more people to read it, and, also, that some prejudice might thereby be removed from candid men. But, that none might imagine I intended a panegyric either upon myself or my friends, I guarded against this in the very title page, saying, in the name of both myself and them, ‘Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect.’ To the same effect, I speak in the conclusion: ‘These are the principles and practices of our sect; these are the marks of a true Methodist’ (that is, a true Christian as I immediately after explain myself). ‘By these alone, do those, who are in derision so called, _desire_ to be distinguished from other men. By these marks, do we _labour_ to distinguish ourselves from those whose minds or lives are not according to the gospel of Christ.’

“Upon this, ‘Rusticulus,’ or Dr. Dodd, says: ‘A Methodist, according to Mr. Wesley, is one who is perfect, and sinneth not in thought, word, or deed.’

“Sir, have me excused. This is not _according_ to Mr. Wesley. I have told all the world, _I am not perfect_; and yet, you allow me to be a _Methodist_. I tell you flat, _I have not attained_ the character I draw. Will you pin it upon me in spite of my teeth?

“‘But Mr. Wesley says, the other Methodists have.’ I say no such thing. What I say, after having given a scriptural account of a perfect Christian, is this: ‘By these marks the Methodists _desire_ to be distinguished from other men; by these we _labour_ to distinguish ourselves.’ And do not you yourself _desire_ and _labour_ after the very same thing?

“But you insist: ‘Mr. Wesley affirms the Methodists, that is, all Methodists, to be perfectly holy and righteous.’ Where do I affirm this? Not in the tract before us. In the front of this, I affirm just the contrary; and that I affirm it anywhere else is more than I know. Be pleased, sir, to point out the place; till this is done, all you add, bitterly enough, is _brutum fulmen_; and the Methodists, so called, may still ‘declare,’ without any impeachment of their sincerity, that they ‘_do not come to the holy table trusting in their own righteousness, but in God’s manifold and great mercies_.’

“I am, sir, yours, etc.,

“JOHN WESLEY.”

The above is an important letter, were it for nothing else than showing that Wesley preached a doctrine he himself did not experience. For above thirty years, he had taught the doctrine of Christian perfection; but he here flatly declares, that, as yet, he had not attained to it: he taught it, not because he felt it, but because he believed the Bible taught it.

Wesley was anxious to visit his societies in the sister island. Ireland sorely needed his societies, and his societies needed him. As an instance illustrative of Ireland’s ignorance and superstition, at this period of Wesley’s history, it may be stated, that there was then a lake, in the county of Donegal, visited by about four thousand pilgrims, from all parts of Ireland, every year, many of them being the proxies of wealthier people, who, at a small expense of cash, discharged their sins, by employing the feet and knees of their poorer neighbours. The lake was about a mile and a half square, and had, in the centre of it, a small island, on which were built two chapels, and fifteen thatched dwellings for the accommodation of priests and penitents. The stay of each pilgrim in the holy island was from three to nine days, and his diet, during his visit, oatmeal and water. His penance was, to walk, without shoes and stockings, on a path of sharp and rough stones, not daring to pick his steps, for this would prevent the remission of his sins at the soles of his feet, the proper outlet; and would also divert his attention from the ave marias and pater nosters which he had to mumble in his piercing pilgrimage. Besides this pedestrian penance, he had to make the same sort of journey on his uncovered knees; and then to take his position in a narrow vault, and there sit with his head bowed down, for the space of four-and-twenty hours, without eating, drinking, or sleeping, and all the while repeating the prayers prescribed by his father confessor. To prevent the danger of a nap, each pilgrim penitent was furnished with a pin, to be suddenly inserted into his neighbour’s elbow, at the first approach of a drowsy nod; and, to complete the whole, each one was taken to a flat stone in the lake to undergo a scouring; after which, the priest bored a hole through the top of the pilgrim’s staff, in which he fastened a cross peg; and gave him as many holy pebbles from the lake as the poor dupe cared to carry for amulets among his friends. Thus scoured and fitted out, the man, with priestly and pious pomp, was then dismissed; and, with his shillalah converted into a pilgrim’s cross, became an object of veneration to all who met him.[695]

A journey to Ireland now is thought a trifle; but in Wesley’s days it was otherwise. Wesley’s purpose was to embark from Bristol; but, on arriving there, he found that there was no ship large enough to take his horses. Accordingly, he had to hurry from Bristol to Liverpool, where the same disappointment awaited him that he had met at Bristol. A third time he started, and now hastened from Liverpool to Portpatrick in Scotland; and here, on March 29, he was fortunate enough to find a vessel of sufficient size to carry him and his equine friends across the channel. Three weeks elapsed, however, from the time he left London to the time he left Portpatrick. Of course the interval was not spent without preaching. At Wednesbury, where, six months before, he had left one of his wearied nags to enjoy a rest, he found the poor beast, to the disgrace of the Wednesbury Methodists, had been ridden “all the winter, and was now galled, jaded, and worn to skin and bones.” At Liverpool, where he spent a sabbath, he made a public collection, which, to the honour of the Liverpool Methodists, amounted to the munificent sum of £1 4_s._ 9_d._[696] From Kendal to Portpatrick, he had to struggle against wind, and rain, and snow, and sleet, through the most miserable roads, and, at one point, Solway frith, through water reaching to his horse’s belly. What but the love of Christ could constrain a man to brave difficulties and dangers such as these?

Wesley spent four months in Ireland, from March 30 to July 29. A few jottings of his journeyings may be useful.

On March 31, he met the society at Belfast, where the Methodist preaching place was a slaughterhouse, and the circuit of which it formed a part consisted of the whole of the territory now included in the Portadown and Belfast districts; a circuit whose quarterly meeting a year afterwards passed the magnanimous resolution, that every member should “pay _a penny every quarter_ towards defraying the expenses of the _round_.”[697]

At Newry, when he began to preach in the market house, his congregation consisted of four persons besides himself. He writes, however: “A good number assembled before I had done, only none of the gentry; they were hindered by a business of more importance,—dressing for the assembly!” It was about this period, that the following expensive item was, with conscientious solemnity, entered in the Newry circuit stewards’ book: “A lash for Mr. Wesley’s whip, 3_d._”[698]

On April 10, he writes: “I preached at Portadown, a place not troubled with any kind of religion. I stood in the street; the people gathered from all sides; and, when I prayed, kneeled down upon the stones, rich and poor, all around me.”

“April 15.—I rode to Armagh. Half an hour before the time of preaching, an officer came, and said, ‘Sir, the sovereign’ (or mayor) ‘orders me to inform you, you shall not preach in this town.’ In order to make the trial, I walked to the market house at six. I had just begun when the sovereign came. He was talking very loud, and tolerably fast, when a gentleman said: ‘Sir, if you are not allowed to preach here, you are welcome to preach in Mr. M’Gough’s avenue.’ Mr. M’Gough, one of the chief merchants in the town, himself showed us the way. I suppose thrice as many people flocked there, as would have heard me in the market house. So did the wise providence of God draw good out of evil!”

Soon after this, the archiepiscopal city of Ireland had not only a Methodist society, but a Methodist meeting-house, measuring fourteen feet by twelve, unceiled, and with a thatched roof,—a contrast to Armagh’s cathedral.[699]

At Swadlingbar, Wesley found a lively congregation of plain country people, “as simple and artless as if they had lived upon the Welsh mountains.” As soon as he begun preaching, a papist commenced “blowing a horn”; but “a gentleman,” says Wesley, “stepping up, snatched his horn away, and, without ceremony, knocked him down.”

A similar fisticuff scene occurred at Kilfinnan. When Wesley commenced preaching, a young man, “a kind of gentleman, took great pains to make a disturbance. Mr. Dancer,” Wesley’s travelling companion, “mildly desired him to desist; but was answered with a volley of oaths and a blow: one of the town then encountered him,” says Wesley, “and beat him well.”

At Athlone, Wesley opened a new chapel, which had been built by Mr. Simpson, a magistrate, in his own garden, and at his own expense, with a chamber over the end of it, for the accommodation of the preachers.[700] “Here,” he says, “I rested for four days, only preaching morning and evening. I would willingly have gone to church, but was informed, there had been no service for near two years, and would be none for a year or two longer, the inside of the church wanting to be repaired!”

Upon the whole, Wesley was not satisfied with the state of his societies in Ireland. “There is,” says he, “a considerable increase of the work of God throughout the province of Ulster. There is some increase in Connaught. In some parts of Leinster there is an increase. But in Munster, a land flowing with milk and honey, how amazing a change is there, for the worse, within a year or two.”[701]

The following letter to his brother refers to the same subject, and also to the societies in England.

“ATHLONE, _June 21, 1767_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—For some time, I have had many thoughts concerning the work of God in these kingdoms. I have been surprised, that it has spread so far; and that it has spread no farther. And what hindered? Surely the design of God was, to bow a nation to His sway; instead of which, there is still only a Christian here and there; and the rest are yet in the shadow of death; although those, who would profit by us, have need to make haste, as we are not likely to serve them long.

“What, indeed, has hindered? I want to consider this. And must we not first say, _Nos consules_? If we were more holy in heart and life, thoroughly devoted to God, would not all the preachers catch our fire, and carry it with them throughout the land?

“Is not the next hindrance the littleness of grace, rather than of gifts, in a considerable part of our preachers? They have not the whole mind that was in Christ; they do not steadily walk as He walked. And, therefore, the hand of the Lord is stayed; though not altogether. Though He does work still, it is not in such a degree as He surely would, were they holy as He that hath sent them is holy.

“Is not the third hindrance the littleness of grace in the generality of the people? Therefore, they pray little, and with little fervency, for a general blessing; and, therefore, their prayer has little power with God. It does not, as once, shut and open heaven. Add to this, that, as there is much of the spirit of the world in their hearts, so there is much conformity to the world in their lives. They ought to be both burning and shining lights; but they neither burn nor shine. They are not true to the rules they profess to observe; they are not holy in all manner of conversation. Nay, many of them are salt that has lost its savour, the little savour they once had. Wherewith then shall the rest of the land be seasoned? What wonder, that their neighbours are as unholy as ever?

“But what can we do to remedy this? I wish you would give an attentive reading to the minutes of the last conference, and see if it will not be worth our while to enforce them with all our might. We have weight enough, and can enforce them. I know not who can and will when we are gone. Let us now fix things on as firm a foundation as possible, and not depend upon seeing another conference.

“Richard Bourke, John Dillon, and one or two more in this kingdom, are truly devoted men; and so are a few of the preachers in England. _Si sic omnes!_ What would be able to stand before them?

“How go you on in London? How is Mr. Whitefield, and my lady, and Mr. Madan, and Romaine, and Berridge? Do you converse with those that are most alive, and sparingly and warily with them that are dead while they live?

“I hope Sally and your young ones are well. Oh what a work it is to train up children for heaven! Peace be with you and yours! Ερρωσο!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[702]

This is far from being a bright and cheering letter; but there can be little doubt of its being true. Wesley was always manly enough to look even the darkest facts fairly in the face. He had no notion of crying “Peace, Peace!” when it was salutary to sound the trumpet of alarm. Neither the Methodists nor their preachers, in his judgment, were so pious as they once had been, and as they ought to be; and to this,—not to the want of talent, or of learning, or of chapels, or of money, or of patronage,—but to this, he attributed the want of such success as they ought to have.

Let modern Methodists learn a lesson here. Notwithstanding all their financial and outward prosperity, without holiness they will fail in converting sinners; and, without this success, all the rest is frivolous.

An extract from another letter, written whilst in Ireland, may be inserted here. It was addressed to Lady Maxwell, who was out of health, and gives us a glimpse of Wesley’s carriage, his wife, and some of his Newcastle friends.

“CORK, _June 4, 1767_.

“MY DEAR LADY,—My belief is, that a journey to England might be of great service to your health; and it is not improbable, you might receive much benefit from the water of the Hotwells near Bristol. In August, I hope to be at Bristol; and again in the latter end of September. My chaise and horses are at Bristol, which, you would oblige me much, if you would please to use as your own during your stay there; for you should, if possible, ride out daily. My wife, who is at Newcastle, will be exceeding glad to wait upon you there; and, if you choose to rest a few days, I should be happy if you would make use of the Orphan House. You would be pleased with the Miss Dales, and they with you. You and they have drank into one Spirit. Miss Peggy is one of the holiest young women that I have any knowledge of. You will be so kind as to let me know when you expect to be at Newcastle, and, possibly, I may meet you there.

“I am, my dear lady, your most affectionate friend,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[703]

Another letter deserves attention; for, though it does not contradict, yet, to some extent, it qualifies the letter to his brother, which has just been given. It also concerns the Edinburgh society, of which Lady Maxwell was a member, and animadverts on the behaviour of one of the ministers of her friend, Lady Glenorchy.

The Rev. Joseph Townsend, fellow of Clare hall, Cambridge, and rector of Pewsey, in Wiltshire, had been sent, by the Countess of Huntingdon, to Scotland, and, for a time, had preached, alternately with Wesley’s preachers, in Lady Glenorchy’s chapel, Edinburgh.[704] He had now removed to Pewsey, where Wesley addressed to him the following.

“EDINBURGH, _August, 1767_.

“DEAR SIR,—When I saw you here some years since, I could not but admire you; such was your simplicity and godly sincerity. You knew the poor little flock, though a proverb of reproach, were a living people of God. You knew their preachers were messengers of Christ; and you espoused their cause in the face of the sun. You returned to London. You conversed with Mr. Madan and others, most of whom owe the Methodists their own souls also. You came to Edinburgh again. But you _did not know_ the Methodists, unless one or two honourable ones. You had _no fellowship_ with them; you neither joined with them in public, nor strengthened their hands in private. You stood aloof from them, as though they would have infected you. Nay, you preached just by them, at the very hour of their preaching. You lessened their congregations; you threw many of the society into vain reasonings; you opened many mouths against them; you exceedingly grieved the spirit of the preachers, and caused their hands to hang down. Was this well done? Was it of a piece with your former conduct? Did it do any honour to the gospel? Did it do any real good? Did it cherish any Christian temper in Mr. Walker or Dr. Erskine? Was it a proof of love to _me_? Was it a means of increasing the knowledge or love of God in your own soul? Alas, my brother! I know you would do well; but, surely, herein you have mistaken your way.

“Do you say, ‘Nay, but I have acted right; for the Methodist people are a fallen people, and the preachers preach only dry morality. They are in grievous error, denying election, perseverance, and the righteousness of Christ. Therefore, their work is at an end, and the work of God, which is now wrought, is wrought by the awakened clergy. If I had preached in their chapels, I should thereby have abetted all their errors.’

“This is home to the point. Convince me of this, and I have done with the Methodists, and with preaching. But is it the true state of the case? Let us consider it, point by point.

“1. Are the Methodists a _fallen people_? Blessed be God, they are not: there never were more, there never were so many of them, either in England, Scotland, or Ireland, standing fast in loving, holy faith, as at this day.

“2. ‘But the preachers preach only dry morality.’ With what ears must _they_ hear who think so? With the same as the honest predestinarian at Witney, who, when I had been enforcing Galatians vi. 14 (and indeed with uncommon freedom of spirit), said, ‘It was a pretty _moral_ discourse.’ My brother, distrust yourself; you may possibly mistake. I think we likewise have the Spirit of God. I think even I, to speak as a fool, can judge a little of preaching the gospel, perhaps as well as either Mr. Madan or Romaine.

“3. ‘But they deny election and perseverance, and the righteousness of Christ.’ They are not Calvinists; but they no more deny the righteousness of Christ than they do the Godhead of Christ. Let this never be said more; it is a shameless slander. They deny only the vile abuse of that precious truth.

“4. ‘But they teach perfection.’ They do exhort believers to _go on unto perfection_; and so do you, if you speak as the oracles of God.

“5. ‘Their work is at an end.’ Far from it; sinners are still convinced and converted throughout the land.

“6. ‘The work of God is now wrought by the clergy.’ The more the better; but where, and by whom? How many has any one of them convinced or converted since Whitsuntide? I fear, when we come to particulars, there will be small room to boast. If you put things on this issue, ‘Whose word does God now bless?’ the matter will soon be determined.

“7. ‘My preaching in your chapel would have been in effect to tell the people of Edinburgh, that the Methodists did not deny the Calvinist doctrines.’ Amazing! Did Mr. Gillies tell them so, when he preached in our house? Just the contrary. He told them: ‘In some opinions, _I do not agree_ with the Methodists; but I know they are a people of God: therefore, I wish them good luck in the name of the Lord.’ Might not you have done the very same? May you not still? Can you be clear before God without doing it?

“I have now told you all that lay upon my mind. If you can receive it, I shall rejoice, for your sake, and for the people’s. If not, I have delivered my own soul. For many years, I have been labouring for peace, though I have had little thanks for my pains. However, my record is above, and my reward with the Most High. It is but a little while that I have to endure the contradiction either of sinners or good men. May God enable you, that stand up in my stead, to labour more successfully! So prays, dear sir, your affectionate brother and servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[705]

We left Wesley in Ireland. On July 29, he embarked, at Donaghadee, for Scotland; and, on August 6, reached Newcastle, having preached at Glasgow, Edinburgh, and Dunbar, as he proceeded. He spent nearly a week at Newcastle and in its neighbourhood, preaching, among other places, in Mr. Goodday’s church, in Sunderland, and making arrangements with Mr. Lewen, of Durham, for the payment of his daughter’s legacies. One entry in his Journal, while at Newcastle, is memorable, and worth pondering by all the Methodists and missionary societies of the present day.

“Saturday, August 8.—At the request of Mr. Whitaker, of New England, I preached, and afterwards made a collection for the Indian schools in America. A large sum of money is now collected; but will money convert heathens? Find preachers of David Brainerd’s spirit, and nothing can stand before them; but without this, what will gold or silver do? No more than lead or iron. They have indeed sent thousands to hell; but never yet brought a soul to heaven.”

Wesley was right. It is doubtless a cause of joyous thanksgiving, that the incomes of missionary societies have grown to so high a figure; but money without men is worthless. Half-a-dozen men of the same stamp as Brainerd, Hunt, and others who might be mentioned, would be of infinitely greater value than all the money raised, in a single year, by all the missionary associations of the present somewhat boastful generation. Men like these, however, cannot be procured by money, nor be made by professors; they are the gift of God; and, to get them, the church must pray for them.

It has generally been stated, that the first Methodist missionary collection was made at the conference in Leeds, in 1769; but this is obviously incorrect. The first collection of the kind was made, by Wesley himself, at Newcastle, on Saturday, the 8th of August, 1767; but was made with some misgiving. Wesley evidently had more faith in the gospel plan of missionaries going forth, at the hazard of their lives, without purse and without scrip, than he had in making large collections to furnish them with both. And, perhaps, he was not so far from being right as some imagine. At all events, it was thus the first Christian missionaries began their work; and, though no one can exonerate the church from her present missionary givings, all will admit, that missionaries’ going out as the first missionaries went, and as George Piercy went to China in modern times, would place them beyond the reach of mean, mercenary suspicion. Let the young men of the Christian church become filled with zeal for God, love for souls, and faith in the power of prayer, as Wesley was, and they will refrain from hastily condemning an idea which Wesley seemed to have. The best agents the church has ever had have been profoundly religious volunteers, rushing to the work, not because they wished or hoped for riches and for rank, but because of an inward impulse which they felt to be irresistible, and which made them willing to endure not only hunger, cold, and privation, but even death itself, for the sake of the Saviour whom they rejoiced to serve.

It is a curious coincidence that, in the very year when Wesley made the first Methodist missionary collection, the first Methodist missionary place of worship was opened in New York. “They write,” says _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, of September 11, 1767,—“They write from New York, that a large chapel has lately been built there for a congregation of Methodists, who already exceed two thousand persons.” The “large chapel,” somewhat erroneously said to have been _built for the Methodists_, was “a rigging house,” sixty feet in length, and eighteen in breadth, which was taken by Philip Embury, Captain Webb, and their Methodist companions, for Methodist services. Embury, Barbara Heck, and other Palatine Methodists from Ireland, had begun to hold meetings; Captain Webb became their regimental preacher; a large congregation was gathered; a society was formed; and the result was the opening of the _sail loft_, which the London newspaper describes as “a large chapel.” But more about this anon.

On the 12th of August, Wesley took coach at Newcastle, and in two days arrived in London, for the purpose of holding his annual conference. He writes: “Tuesday, August 18.— I met in conference with our assistants and a select number of preachers. To these were added, on Thursday and Friday, Mr. Whitefield, Howel Harris, and many stewards and local preachers. Love and harmony reigned from the beginning to the end: but we have all need of more love and holiness; and, in order thereto, of crying continually, ‘Lord, increase our faith!’”

As this was the first year in which a complete list of the numbers in society was given, we subjoin the statement as it stands. By this means, the reader will learn the names of all the Methodist circuits then in existence, except the Irish ones, and will see the relative proportions of each.

London 2250 Sussex 176 Kent 147 Colchester 145 Norwich 293 Bedford 208 Oxfordshire 142 Wilts 840 Bristol 1064 Devon 413 Cornwall East 558 Cornwall West 1602 Staffordshire 906 Cheshire 525 Lancashire 1875 Derbyshire 741 Sheffield 591 Epworth 769 Grimsby 693 Leeds 1120 Birstal 1491 Haworth 1366 York 1000 Yarm 825 The Dales 833 Newcastle 1837 Glasgow 64 Dunbar 40 Edinburgh 150 Dundee 40 Aberdeen 174 Wales 232 Ireland 2801 —————— Total 25,911 ——————

These are curious statistics. In nine instances, circuits are counties. London has the largest number of members, and Newcastle stands next to London. Bristol, one of the largest towns in the kingdom, and the oldest of Methodist stations, only ranks eighth in point of numbers. Six of the circuits are in Yorkshire; and in these were found a fourth part of all the Methodists in England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales.

A good beginning is a good thing. In 1767 one seventh of the Methodist circuits in the United Kingdom, and nearly one fourth of the members, were in Yorkshire. In 1870, the proportions are scarcely different, namely, circuits a fraction over one eighth, and members nearly one fifth. The exact figures are as follows.

1767. 1870. Total number of Circuits 41 701 Yorkshire Circuits 6 88 Total number of Members 25,911 368,434 Yorkshire Members 6,393 71,443

These Yorkshire statistics, however, for 1870, are those of the parent connexion _only_. The Methodist offshoots, in that large county, are, _relatively_ speaking, quite as numerous as the original body; and, if their statistics be added to the above, it will be found that, from the beginning, Yorkshire has been the stronghold of English Methodism; and that, at the present day, it is probably more so than it was even a century ago.

There is another point which deserves attention. Methodism, in 1767, had existed eight-and-twenty years, and the result was the formation of forty-one circuits; the employment of 104 itinerants; and the gathering of 25,911 members of society. Considering the difficulties that had to be encountered, these are gigantic facts; but, in modern times, they have been surpassed. In 1810, what is miscalled “Primitive Methodism” was begun, in Staffordshire, by a few poor, uneducated, working men—William Clowes, James Crawfoot, Hugh Bourne, and his brother James. They also had difficulties, and persecutions neither few nor trivial; and yet, not merely in twenty-eight years, but in less than half that time, their labours, privations, and sufferings had resulted in greater statistics than those which Wesley had to publish in 1767. The following are the figures.

Circuits. Itinerant Members. Preachers. Wesley’s conference in 1767, twenty-eight years after Methodism was founded 41 104 25,911 Clowes’s conference in 1823, only thirteen years after he began his labours[706] 45 202 29,472

The conference of 1767, in several respects, deserves remark. 1. Besides the itinerant preachers, there were present “many stewards and local preachers,” showing that Wesley was wise enough to avail himself of the counsels of laymen, as well as of those who were wholly devoted to the ministerial work. 2. Whitefield and Howel Harris were also present, showing the harmony that existed among the leaders of the three sections into which Methodism had been divided,—the Wesleys at the head of the largest body, Whitefield the chief of the Countess of Huntingdon’s connexion, and Howel Harris the prince of the Calvinistic Methodists in Wales. 3. It was at this conference, that Francis Asbury, afterwards the renowned Methodist bishop in the United States, was received on trial. 4. It was decided that, in future, there should be a general fast in all the societies once a quarter. 5. Steps were to be taken to put an end to smuggling. 6. As many circuits had sustained serious loss by the absence of preachers during the conference, it was resolved that, henceforth, it should be a rule, that not all the preachers in any circuit should come to conference; that those who did come should set out as late, and return as soon, as possible; and that none of those left in the circuits should go out of them while the conference lasted.

It was Wesley’s intention to have it determined whether all the preachers or none should continually insist upon Christian perfection;[707] but, if this matter was discussed, the result is not recorded. Still practical religion and relative duties were the subject of conversation; and Wesley concludes his minutes with a sentence which all Methodist preachers to the end of time will do well to bear in mind: “Let us all be men of _one business_. We live only for this, to save our own souls, and them that hear us.”

It has been previously stated, that the debt upon the Methodist meeting-houses throughout the kingdom was £11,383. The sum sounds small in modern days, when, in some instances, there has been more than that upon a single chapel; but, to Wesley, it was a burden heavy to be borne. He was no friend to chapel debts, and wished to be rid of them entirely. He asks his conference,—“Can we make a push toward paying the whole debt?” Answer. “I will state the case in writing, to the most substantial men of our society.” According to Myles, there were, at this period, eighty-four chapels in England, one in Wales, two in Scotland, and thirteen in Ireland,—a total of exactly one hundred, which, when used as a divisor, gives an average of £113 debt upon each chapel of the connexion.

Wesley was determined to be freed from this encumbrance. For this purpose, he had instituted the yearly collection; but, hitherto, it had not been adequate. He now adopted a scheme, proposed to him, soon after the conference of 1767, by a friend who wrote as follows:—

“I suppose the societies in Great Britain and Ireland contain 24,000 members: one fourth part of these, if they subscribe according to the following scheme, will discharge the whole debt in two years.

1000 Subscribers at two Guineas in two years £4,200 1000 ” at one and a half Guineas ” 3,150 1000 ” at one Guinea ” 2,100 1000 ” at three quarters ” 1,575 1000 ” at half ” 1,050 1000 ” at a quarter ” 525 —————— In all £12,600 ——————

“This may be paid either yearly, quarterly, or in any such manner as the subscribers please. The grand objection is, there are not so many persons in our societies who are able to contribute so much. Perhaps so. But are there not some who are both able and willing to contribute more? Are there none who clear several hundreds a year? or who are two or three thousand beforehand? And will none of these give ten, twenty, perhaps fifty guineas, in such a case as this? a case of so general concern, and that can occur but once in their lives? By this method, the poor will be quite excused, unless any of them choose to throw in their mite.”

The circular, from which the above is extracted, was widely circulated, and was often accompanied by a short letter, in Wesley’s own handwriting, like the following:—

“I think you love me, and the cause wherein I am engaged. You wish to ease me of any burden you can. You sincerely desire the salvation of souls and the prosperity of the work of God. Will you not then exert yourself on such an occasion as this? Surely you will not be straitened in your own bowels. Do according as God has prospered you; and do it willingly, not of necessity, knowing God loveth a cheerful giver.”[708]

Again:—

“Go on, in the name of God! one year will suffice, if we have faith. Richard Pearce, of Bradford, writes, he will give £20; Mr. Iles, of Stroud, that he will give £50! Surely God’s time is come. Set all your shoulders to the work, and it shall be done.”[709]

Again:—

“I have wrote to T. Colbeck, James Greenwood, Jo. Greenwood, Sutcliffe, Southwell, Garforth, and Littledale. The rest, in your circuit, I leave to you. Leave no stone unturned. When you receive the printed letters, seal, superscribe, and deliver them in my name to whom you please. Be active. Adieu!”[710]

Again:—

“I see no help for it. What must be, must be. You must go, point blank, to York, Leeds, and Bradford. Our rich men subscribe twenty shillings a year; and neither brother Boardman, Brisco, Bumstead, nor Oliver can move them. They want a hard mouthed man. Get you gone in a trice. Show them the difference. I beg you either _mend_ them or _end_ them. Let this lumber be removed from among us.”[711]

Again, in a letter to Mr. Hopper:—

“I constitute _you_, Christopher Hopper by name, Lord President of the north. Enter upon your province, Northumberland, Cumberland, Westmoreland, Durham, Yorkshire, and Lincolnshire, without delay. Pray despatch letters to Jacob Rowell, Jo. Heslop, Richard Boardman, and your other deputies without loss of time; and quicken them to put forth all their strength, and make one push for all. But hold! John Fenwick writes to me, ‘I will give £25!’ Do not abate him the five! No drawing back! I think the time is come for rolling away this reproach from us. Your thought concerning the preachers is a noble one. If fifty of them set such an example, giving a little out of their little, such an instance would have an effect upon many. Let one stir up another. Spare no pains. Write east, west, north, and south. You have a ready mind, and a ready pen; and it cannot be used in a better cause.”[712]

Again, in a letter to Mr. Merryweather, of Yarm, dated “London, December 28, 1767.”

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—I thank Mr. Waldy and you for your ready and generous assistance. It seems, the time is come; but John Fenwick writes from Newcastle, ‘We are all here of opinion that what is done should be done at once; and we think the debt may be paid off in one year, only let us set about it in faith. I will give £25; Mr. Davison, £25; Jo. Morrison, £25; Miss Dales, £50.’ Very well; this will not interfere. Some may give at once, some quarterly, some yearly. You will encourage your neighbours all you can.

“I am, etc.,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[713]

Such were Wesley’s efforts to obtain subscriptions for the first chapel relief fund that Methodism ever raised. This was a great connexional effort to collect £12,000, to defray all the connexional chapel debts. What was the result? This may be gathered from another circular, which Wesley issued two years afterwards.

“_November 20, 1769._

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—Two years ago, many of our brethren, who considered the number of the people called Methodists, and the circumstances which a great part of them were in, believed we should pay off the debt at once. I myself was fully persuaded, that between twenty and thirty thousand people were well able to do this; but I was not at all persuaded they were willing. However, I said little upon that head; being unwilling to weaken the hands of those who were of another mind.

“It was a good step which was made the first year. Upwards of £5000 were contributed; by which means the most pressing debts were paid; and many of our brethren were firmly persuaded we should make an end of the whole the second year. I well knew the Methodists could do this, but I saw no reason to think they would. And when the collection was brought in, amounting to above £2000, it was full as much as I expected.

“But what can be done this third year? £5000 remain unpaid. Are the Methodists able to clear this in one year? Yes, as able as they are to clear £50. But are they willing? That I cannot tell. I am sure a few of them are, even of those who have a large measure of worldly goods; yea, and those who are lately increased in substance, who have twice, perhaps ten or twenty times, as much as when they saw me first. Are you one of them? Whether you are or not, whether your substance is less or more, are you willing to give what assistance you can? to do what you can without hurting your family? ‘But if I do so, I cannot lay out so much, in such and such things, as I intended.’ That is true; but will this hurt you? What, if instead of enlarging, you should, for the present, contract, your expenses? spend less, that you may be able to give more? Would there be any harm in this? ‘But neither can I lay up so much.’ This, likewise, is most true; but is it ill husbandry to ‘lay up treasure in heaven’? Is that lost which is given to God? ‘But I thought we should have paid the debt in one year, and so need no further collections.’ I never thought so; I knew it might be paid in one year, but never expected it would. There is more likelihood of its being paid this year. It will, if our brethren exert themselves: do you, for one; let nothing be wanting on your part. Yet do not imagine, ‘We shall need no further collections.’ Indeed, we shall, though we owed not one shilling. Do not you remember the original design of the yearly subscription? Paying our debts is but one branch of the design. It answers several other valuable ends, equally necessary. It enables us to carry the gospel through the three kingdoms; and, as long as we pursue that glorious design, this subscription will be necessary; though, it is true, when once this burden is removed, a far smaller contribution will suffice. However, ‘let the morrow take thought for the things of itself’; to-day do what you can, for the love of God, of your brethren, of the cause of God, and of your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[714]

This appeal was responded to, by a further reduction of debt to the amount of £1700; but new debts were constantly being created, and, for years afterwards, chapel debts were one of Wesley’s sorrows.

The conference of 1767 being concluded, Wesley started, on August 24, for the west of England, preaching at Wycombe, Witney, and other places. He made a brief tour in Wales, and visited most of the societies in the county of Somerset. On September 26, hearing that his old friend, Mrs. Blackwell, was dying, he hurried to London, and found her better. Two days later, he went back to Bristol, where, he says, “I permitted all of Mr. Whitefield’s society that pleased, to be present at the lovefeast. I hope we shall ‘not know war any more,’ unless with the world, the flesh, and the devil.”

Having again wended his way, _viâ_ Southampton and Portsmouth, to London, he set out, on October 20, to Colchester, and “spent three days very agreeably, among a quiet and loving people.”

Returning again to London, he started, on October 26, on what he calls his “little tour through Northamptonshire and Bedfordshire,” which occupied the next five days.

On November 1, he set out to visit the societies in Kent and Sussex, and, at the end of the week, returned to London, where he buried the remains of his clerical coadjutor, Benjamin Colley. Here, he says, he received the following letter.

“SIR,—I was yesterday led to hear what God would say to me by your mouth. You exhorted us ‘to strive to enter in at the strait gate.’ I am willing so to do; but I find, one chief part of my striving must be to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to instruct the ignorant, to visit the sick, and such as are in prison, bound in misery and iron.

“But if you purge out all who scorn such practices, or at least are not fond of them, how many will remain in your society? I fear, scarce enough to carry your body to the grave. Alas, how many, even among those who are called believers, have plenty of all the necessaries of life, and yet complain of poverty! How many have houses and lands, or bags of money, and yet cannot find in their hearts to spare now and then to God’s poor a little piece of gold! How many have linen in plenty, with three or four suits of clothes, and can see the poor go naked! Pray sir, tell these, you cannot believe they are Christians, unless they imitate Christ in doing good to all men, and hate covetousness, which is idolatry.”

Wesley adds: “I do tell them so, and I tell them it will be more tolerable in the day of judgment for Sodom and Gomorrah than for them. I tell them, the Methodists, that do not fulfil all righteousness, will have the hottest place in the lake of fire.”

On November 30, Wesley started for Norwich, where he says: “Our friends, the mob, seem to have taken their leave; and so have triflers; all that remain seem deeply serious.”

On December 7, he writes: “I went on to Yarmouth, and found confusion worse confounded. Not only Benjamin Worship’s society was come to nothing, but ours seemed to be swiftly following. They had almost all left the Church again, being full of prejudice against the clergy and against one another.” On December 12, he came back to London, where he continued the remainder of the year, with the exception of a visit to Sheerness. He writes, December 16: “The governor of the fort having given me the use of the chapel, I began reading prayers, and afterwards preached to a large and serious congregation. The next evening it was considerably increased, so that the chapel was hot as an oven. In the afternoon of the day after, the governor sent me word, I must preach in the chapel no more; but, a room being offered, we had a comfortable hour. Examining the society, consisting of four or five and thirty members, I had the comfort to find many of them knew in whom they had believed; and all of them seemed desirous to adorn the doctrine of God their Saviour. Such a town as many of these live in is scarce to be found again in England. In the dock, adjoining to the fort, there are six old men-of-war. These are divided into small tenements, forty, fifty, or sixty in a ship, with little chimneys and windows; and each of these contains a family.”

The Whitefield section of the Methodists seem to have had a society in Sheerness previous to this. Cornelius Winter, now a young man of about five-and-twenty, and acting as a sort of itinerant local preacher, in the county of Kent, tells us that, in 1766, Wesley’s “people made an innovation upon the Calvinistic cause at Sheerness,” upon which he walked over from Sittingbourne, on a severe winter’s night, and preached from the words: “And Gideon said unto him, O my Lord, if the Lord be with us, why then is all this befallen us? and where be all His miracles which our fathers told us of, saying, Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt? but now the Lord hath forsaken us, and delivered us into the hands of the Midianites.” No doubt, the young preacher intended his text to be a stunning one, and to put an end to Wesley’s “Midianites” poaching on Calvinian preserves. He states that his sermon “had an amazing effect”; that he “became a frequent and acceptable visitor”; and that an “eminent old saint, by the name of Wadsworth, was so pleased with his services, that, when he died, he left him half-a-crown and his Bible,” the first legacy that Cornelius ever had.[715] Young Winter thought he had extinguished Wesley’s Methodism in Sheerness; but, like most young men, he proved himself to be liable to fall into mistakes.

It is a curious fact, that, in 1767, as in the year previous, Methodism was attacked chiefly by the muses. One of the principal poetic effusions was, “Methodism Triumphant; or, the decisive Battle between the Old Serpent and the Modern Saint,” 4to, 139 pages. In Nichols’ “Literary Anecdotes,” it is stated, that this skittish, satirical production was written by Dr. Nathaniel Lancaster, rector of Stanford Rivers,—“a man of strong natural parts, great erudition, refined taste, and master of a nervous and elegant style. He was a native of Cheshire, lived a recluse, and died deeply in debt, June 20, 1775.”[716]

Of course, Wesley is Dr. Lancaster’s “modern saint”; and the poem, which is not without literary merit, professes to sketch “the state of religion previous to Wesley’s mission; his transcendent character and miraculous powers,” and his subsequent history, till he is brought into “single combat with the old serpent. Satan accepts Wesley’s challenge; leaves his dominions; and repairs to Moorfields, in Britannia.” Then follows a description of the conflict; Wesley is blown up with gunpowder; a seraph heals him; the battle is renewed; with his “massive journals,” Wesley shatters the devil’s horns, batters his skull, squashes his igneous brains, and then, seizing a falchion sent from the armoury of heaven, lops off his cloven feet, and finally pulls off his tail, and suspends it over a fane,—

... “a trophy of victorious faith, And surest proof, that Methodism springs, With all her tenets, from a heavenly source.”

The whole poem is full of clever, but profane, banter of this description.

Another quarto poetical publication, of forty-seven pages, and, in style and spirit, bearing so strong a resemblance to the former one as almost to affiliate itself, was entitled, “The Troublers of Israel; in which the principles of those who turn the world upside down are displayed. With a preface to the Rev. Dr. D——; to which is prefixed, a short introductory description of modern enthusiasts.

Besides the above, there was a shilling pamphlet published, with the title, “A Dialogue between the Rev. Mr. John Wesley and a member of the Church of England, concerning Predestination.” The author is a most zealous Calvinist, and attacks Wesley’s views with great violence; perhaps thinking that, though man might have reason to complain, God would commend and honour his heavy handed flagellation.

Wesley’s publications, in 1767, were the following.

1. “A Word to a Smuggler,” with this sentence printed on the title page,—“This tract is not to be sold, but given away:” 8vo, eight pages.

Smuggling was, at this period, one of England’s crying evils; and, from the first, Wesley resolutely set his face against it. “A smuggler,” said he, “is a thief of the first order, a highwayman or pickpocket of the worst sort. Let not any of those prate about reason or religion. It is an amazing instance of human folly, that every government in Europe does not drive these vermin away into lands not inhabited.”[717] “Every smuggler is a thief general, who picks the pockets both of the king and all his fellow subjects. He wrongs them all; and, above all, the honest traders, many of whom he deprives of their maintenance.”

So general was the evil in Wesley’s day, that not a few, even of the members of his own societies, were tainted with it. At St. Ives, in 1753, he ascertained that nearly the whole society “bought or sold uncustomed goods.” At Sunderland, in 1757, he had to tell the Methodists that, unless they would “part with all sin, particularly, robbing the king,” he should be obliged to part with them. “Carefully disperse the ‘Word to a Smuggler,’” said Wesley at the conference of 1767; “expel all who will not leave off smuggling; and silence every local preacher that defends it.”

2. “An Extract of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Journal, from May 6, 1760, to October 28, 1762.” 12mo, 141 pages.

3. “Christian Letters, by Joseph Alleine.” 12mo, 88 pages.

4. “Extracts from the Letters of Mr. Samuel Rutherford.” 12mo. “The same piety, zeal, and confidence in God,” says Wesley, “shine through all the letters of Mr. Alleine that do in Mr. Samuel Rutherford’s; so that, in this respect, he may well be styled the English Rutherford. In piety and fervour of spirit, they are the same; but the fervour of the one more resembles that of St. Paul,—of the other, that of St. John. They were both men of intrepid courage; but in love Mr. Alleine has the preeminence.”

5. “The Repentance of Believers.” 12mo. This was a sermon for the times, peculiarly adapted to settle the inquiries of the Methodists respecting the subject of Christian perfection, and other points connected with it.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 158.

[2] Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol ii., p. 130.

[3] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 310.

[4] _Irish Evangelist_, Aug. 1, 1860.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 158.

[7] Minutes (edit. 1862).

[8] C. Wesley’s Journal.

[9] C. Wesley’s Journal.

[10] Page 12.

[11] Page 66.

[12] Southey says this was Lady Maxwell, forgetting that Wesley had no acquaintance with her ladyship for many a long year after this.

[13] Myles’s Chronological History, p. 464.

[14] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 277.

[15] _Methodist Magazine_, 1852, p. 51.

[16] Manuscript letter.

[17] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 276.

[18] Short Account of Kingswood School, 1749.

[19] Myles’s History; and _Methodist Magazine_, 1778, p. 533.

[20] _Methodist Magazine_, 1778, p. 533.

[21] Ibid. 1779, p. 42.

[22] Minutes (edit. 1862).

[23] _Methodist Magazine_, 1838, p. 555.

[24] “Methodism in Halifax,” p. 65.

[25] “Methodism in Manchester,” p. 116.

[26] Manuscript.

[27] Myles’s Life of Grimshaw, p. 114.

[28] Myles’s Life of Grimshaw, p. 73.

[29] Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 253.

[30] Manuscripts.

[31] “Methodism in Congleton Circuit,” p. 38.

[32] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 370.

[33] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 200.

[34] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 150.

[35] Ibid. p. 156.

[36] Ibid. pp. 204, 215.

[37] _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1748, pp. 475, 523.

[38] _Scots Magazine_, 1748, p. 456.

[39] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 190.

[40] “Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 96.

[41] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 160.

[42] Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 248.

[43] _Methodist Magazine_, 1848, p. 158.

[44] _London Magazine_, 1748, p. 426.

[45] Ibid. 1748, p. 476.

[46] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 152.

[47] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 488.

[48] Ibid. vol. xii., p. 74.

[49] Walpole’s Letters, vol. ii., p. 149.

[50] Walpole’s Letters, vol. ii., p. 155.

[51] Whitefield’s Works, vol ii., pp. 220, 252, 282-284, 291.

[52] _Methodist Magazine_, 1848, p. 639.

[53] Charles Wesley, in a letter dated the 3rd of March, 1749, says: “I spent half-an-hour with my brother at Kingswood, which is now very much like a college. Twenty-one boarders are there, and a dozen students, his sons and pupils in the gospel. I believe he is now laying the foundations of many generations.”—_Watchman_, Feb. 18, 1835.

[54] Sullivan’s house was the preachers’ home, and was also sometimes used for preaching. (Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 148.)

[55] Smith’s “Methodism in Ireland,” pp. 33, 34.

[56] _Methodist Magazine_, 1812, p. 45.

[57] Wesley’s Works, vol. viii., p. 494.

[58] Everett’s “Methodism in Sheffield,” p. 257.

[59] Ibid. p. 261.

[60] _Methodist Magazine_, 1817, p. 683.

[61] Ibid. 1778, p. 472.

[62] Minutes (edit. 1862), p. 709.

[63] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 362.

[64] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 422.

[65] Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 243; and _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 322.

[66] “Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 45; and Everett’s “Methodism in Sheffield,” p. 41.

[67] The above facts are taken from private manuscripts; from “Memoirs of Mrs. Grace Bennet, by William Bennet”; and from an authentic manuscript, in the British Museum, which, though not in Wesley’s handwriting, was read and revised by him, and has a few corrections by his own well known pen. This manuscript was published, a few years ago, by John Russel Smith, of Soho Square, London. The writer has compared the printed pamphlet with the original document; and, with a few unimportant exceptions, including one or two omissions, has found it faithfully and correctly given. It is from the same source, that we chiefly derive the following facts.

[68] Life of C. Wesley.

[69] Nineteen of these verses, with many erasures and corrections, in Wesley’s own abbreviated long hand writing, are at the end of the manuscript in the British Museum, from which the foregoing statements have been taken.

[70] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 154.

[71] Watson’s Works, vol. v., p. 200.

[72] Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 171.

[73] Manuscripts.

[74] Manuscript in British Museum.

[75] _Methodist Magazine_, 1833, p. 758.

[76] In a list of “Books published by John and Charles Wesley,” in 1749, one, numbered 85, is “Moravian Hymns,” price a penny; and, in a letter dated 1749, Zinzendorf remarks: “J. Wesley’s extract from our hymn-book has done us no injury.” (“Memoirs of James Hutton,” p. 218.)

[77] What a change in eleven years! The following interesting and important letter has not before been published. It was lent to the author by Charles Reed, Esq., M.P.; but too late to be inserted in the proper place. Let the reader compare it with Wesley’s Journal of the same date.

“WESTPHALIA, GERMANY, _July 7, 1738_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—I am now with the Count, at his uncle’s, the Count of Solmes, five or six hours from Marienborn; and have stolen an hour to let you know that God has been very merciful to us in all things. The spirit of the Brethren is above our highest expectation. Young and old, they breathe nothing but faith and love, at all times, and in all places. I do not therefore concern myself with the smaller points that touch not the essence of Christianity, but endeavour (God being my helper) to grow up in these after the glorious example set before me. Having already seen with my own eyes more than a hundred witnesses of the everlasting truth,—‘Every one that believeth hath peace with God, and is freed from sin, and is in Christ a new creature,’—see, my dear brother, that none of you receive the grace of God in vain; but be ye also living witnesses of the exceeding great and precious promises, which are made to every one of us through the blood of Jesus. Adieu.—JOHN WESLEY.”

[78] The Moravian Hymn-Book, published in two volumes, in 1754, is before us; and similar quotations to the above might be given, almost _ad infinitum_, but no good end would be answered by doing so. Zinzendorf’s heart was better than his head. His brain was fertile, but brought forth weeds as well as flowers. His passions were strong, and easily excited; and he was not unwont to assume a superiority, to which he foolishly fancied that his German birth and rank entitled him. He was an enormous worker; and his energy, disinterestedness, and devotion are deserving of praise; but he was far from faultless. His policy was often suspicious, and sometimes had the appearance of dissimulation. He was too anxious to assert his authority, even when it was not called in question; and, though his eccentricities were not surprising, considering his temperament and activity, they were not to be commended.

[79] Nichols’ “Illustrations of Literature,” vol. ii., p. 162.

[80] This will be noticed in the year 1761.

[81] Wesley’s Works, vol. x., p. 367.

[82] Ibid. vol. x., p. 403.

[83] _Methodist Magazine_, 1827, p. 314.

[84] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 316-18.

[85] Ibid. p. 320.

[86] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 118.

[87] See Whitefield’s Letters.

[88] _Methodist Magazine_, 1837, p. 421.

[89] _London Magazine_, 1750.

[90] Walpole’s Letters.

[91] _London Magazine_, 1750, p. 139.

[92] _London Magazine_, 1750, p. 223.

[93] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 257.

[94] _Methodist Magazine_, 1781, p. 92.

[95] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 256.

[96] _Methodist Magazine_, 1848, p. 776.

[97] The reference here is doubtless to Roger Ball.

[98] _Methodist Magazine_, 1794, p. 524.

[99] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 316.

[100] Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 259.

[101] _Methodist Magazine_, 1819, p. 544.

[102] Lavington, bishop of Exeter, begins his “Enthusiasm of the Methodists and Papists compared,” with a sketch of what he calls “the madness and presumption of the Montanists.”

[103] _Methodist Magazine_, 1815, p. 47.

[104] It is rather remarkable, that in a second instance the Methodists took possession of a French protestant church, in Spitalfields, namely, the chapel now occupied in Church Street, and at the erection of which John Nelson worked, when he heard Wesley preach in 1739, and saw him stroke back the hair of his head. (Private manuscript.) _Apropos_ of chapels, it may be added, that in Reed’s _Weekly Journal_ of December 15, 1750, is the following item of intelligence: “We hear that the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, senior fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford, has purchased New Wells, near the London Spaw, Clerkenwell, and that he intends, with all convenient speed, to fit up the same for a tabernacle.”

[105] Wesley’s Works, vol. x., pp. 464, 472.

[106] Ibid. p. 340.

[107] _London Magazine_, 1749, p. 436.

[108] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 407.

[109] See Hutton’s Memoirs, and Spangenberg’s Life of Zinzendorf.

[110] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 260.

[111] The Rev. Charles Manning is said to have performed the marriage ceremony.

[112] _Methodist Magazine_, 1847, p. 868; and Southey’s Life of Wesley.

[113] Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 172.

[114] C. Wesley’s Life, vol. i., p. 568.

[115] Hampson’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 124.

[116] Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 263.

[117] C. Wesley’s private journal.

[118] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. ii., p. 213.

[119] Ibid. vol. ii., p. 217.

[120] Ibid. p. 247.

[121] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., pp. 163, 164.

[122] In Osmotherley old society book, still in existence, we find the following item of expenditure: “1752: April 27 and 28.—Laid out for Mr. John Wesley’s wife’s daughter, William Shent, and John Haine, 5_s._ 2_d._”

[123] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 165.

[124] Ibid. vol. v., p. 205.

[125] Wesley’s Works, vol xii., p. 171.

[126] Ibid. p. 206.

[127] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 206.

[128] Watson’s Life of Wesley.

[129] Manuscript.

[130] Hampson’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 127.

[131] Private manuscripts.

[132] Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 175.

[133] Stamp’s Orphan House, p. 119.

[134] Wesley’s Works, vol. iii., p. 449.

[135] Manuscript letter.

[136] _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1781.

[137] Hampson’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 128.

[138] Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 569.

[139] Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 175.

[140] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. ii., p. 85.

[141] _Methodist Magazine_, 1797, p. 514.

[142] Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 271.

[143] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 316; and _Methodist Magazine_, 1781, p. 137.

[144] Wesley’s Works, vol. x., p. 341.

[145] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 420.

[146] Clarke’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 242.

[147] Wesley’s Works, vol. viii., p. 316.

[148] Ibid. vol. xii., p. 471.

[149] Probably George Atchinson. See Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 182.

[150] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 315.

[151] Larkin’s History of Methodism in Norwich.

[152] “Summary View of the Doctrines of Methodism.” By Charles Perronet. Second edition. 1753.

[153] “A Hundred Years Ago.” By James Hutton; and _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1756, p. 89.

[154] Myles’s History.

[155] Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley, vol. i., p. 585.

[156] Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley, vol. i., p. 583.

[157] Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 270.

[158] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 317.

[159] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 404.

[160] Ibid. vol. iii., p. 496.

[161] _Methodist Magazine_, 1819, p. 544.

[162] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 181-183.

[163] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 435.

[164] Ibid., p. 406.

[165] Ibid. vol. ii., p. 368.

[166] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. ii., p. 380.

[167] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 428.

[168] Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 576.

[169] Life of Rev. S. Walker, p. 201.

[170] _Methodist Magazine_, 1847, p. 869.

[171] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 165.

[172] “Memoir of Rev. T. Monkhouse,” p. 4.

[173] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 165.

[174] Ibid. vol. xii., p. 166.

[175] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 106.

[176] _Irish Evangelist_, October 1, 1860.

[177] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 464.

[178] _London Magazine_, 1752, p. 48.

[179] _London Magazine_, 1749, p. 388.

[180] Whitefield’s Works, vol. ii., p. 275.

[181] _London Magazine_, 1752, p. 193.

[182] Polwhele’s edition of “Enthusiasm,” etc.

[183] “Life and Times of Howel Harris,” p. 203.

[184] James Hutton’s Memoirs.

[185] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iv., p. 253.

[186] Ibid. vol. iii., p. 14.

[187] _Methodist Recorder_, Sept. 22, 1865.

[188] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 35.

[189] Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 273.

[190] _Methodist Magazine_, 1797, p. 512.

[191] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 7.

[192] Minutes (edit. 1862), p. 717.

[193] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 168.

[194] Ibid. vol. xiii., p. 318.

[195] _London Magazine_, 1753.

[196] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., pp. 107, 108.

[197] Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 276.

[198] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 318.

[199] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 43.

[200] The word “Manchester” is written, not printed.

[201] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. i., p. 364.

[202] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 259.

[203] Ibid. 1778, p. 232.

[204] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. ii., p. 51.

[205] The _Gentleman’s Magazine_, for 1749, p. 44, contains the following announcement: “1749, January 28.—Marriage of William Briggs, Esq., of the Custom House, Secretary to Messrs. Wesley, to Miss Perronet, of Shoreham, Kent. £5,000.”

[206] Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 261.

[207] See preface to Methodist Hymn-Book.

[208] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 394.

[209] _Methodist Magazine_, 1800, p. 545.

[210] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 169.

[211] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 61.

[212] Life of Rev. H. Venn.

[213] _Methodist Magazine_, 1797, p. 569.

[214] _Christian Miscellany_, 1849, p. 115.

[215] “Methodism in Frome,” p. 11.

[216] Wesley’s Works, vol. x., p. 305.

[217] Hervey’s Letters to Lady Frances Shirley, 1783, p. 222.

[218] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 375.

[219] Manuscript letter by Baddiley to Wesley.

[220] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 170.

[221] Manuscript, by Alex. Bell.

[222] Everett’s Life of Adam Clarke, vol. i., p. 336.

[223] Manuscript, by Alex. Bell. We have a list of all the Liverpool Methodists in 1759, with their occupations, and places of residence, from which it appears that there were, at that period, 121 members, meeting in five classes, of which the respective leaders were Robert Jones, Enoch Norris, James Edmunds, Thomas Hodgson, and Thomas Beck.

[224] Minutes (edit. 1862), vol. i., p. 711.

[225] In his shorthand diary, Charles Wesley writes as follows. “1754: October 17.—Sister Macdonald first, and then sister Clay, informed me that Charles Perronet gave the sacrament to the preachers, Walsh and Deaves, and then to twelve at sister Garder’s, in the Minories.”

“October 18.—Sister Meredith told me that her husband had sent her word that Walsh had administered the sacrament at Reading.”

“October 19.—I was with my brother, who said nothing of Perronet, except, ‘We have in effect ordained already.’ He urged me to sign the preachers’ certificates; was inclined to lay on hands; and to let the preachers administer.”

“October 24.—Was with my brother. He is wavering; but willing to wait before he ordains or separates.”

[226] Manuscript letter.

[227] Ibid.

[228] Manuscript letter.

[229] Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 78.

[230] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 320.

[231] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 109.

[232] Ibid. vol. xii., p. 110.

[233] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 371.

[234] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 144.

[235] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 373.

[236] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 376.

[237] Osmotherley old society book has the following entry: “1755, June 2.—Laid out for Mr. John Wesley, wife and daughter, Mr. Shent, and Mr. Downes, 5_s._”

[238] It was noted as a place for training and running horses.

[239] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 171.

[240] Ibid.

[241] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., pp. 121, 122.

[242] Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 302.

[243] It was advertised in a list of books published by Wesley and his brother; and, to such an extent, was acknowledged by them.

[244] Except one class of Queries, here omitted, because referring to matters obscene and blasphemous. It may be added that, in this same year, 1755, Warburton, bishop of Gloucester, published a furious pamphlet, of 180 pages, entitled, “The Moravians Compared and Detected.”

[245] Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 301.

[246] Ibid. p. 302.

[247] Wesley’s Works, vol. iv., p. 33.

[248] Hampson’s Life of Wesley, vol. iii., p. 147.

[249] Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 495.

[250] _Methodist Magazine_, 1847, p. 965.

[251] Clarke’s Commentary, General Preface, p. 10.

[252] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 155.

[253] The Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Herring, was quite as bitter as the Bishop of London. In a letter dated “January 25, 1756,” he calls Whitefield, “Daniel Burgess _redivivus_,” and speaks of his “joco-serious addresses.” In the same letter, he says Wesley “is a man of good parts and learning; but a most dark, and saturnine creature, whose pictures may frighten weak people, but will make few converts, except for a day.” (_Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1777.)

[254] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 207.

[255] _Methodist Magazine_, 1794, p. 528.

[256] _Methodist Magazine_, 1837, p. 423.

[257] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 434.

[258] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 475.

[259] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 319.

[260] Wesley’s Journal; and _London Magazine_.

[261] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iv., p. 265.

[262] _Methodist Magazine_, 1848, p. 777.

[263] Ibid. 1848, p. 777.

[264] _London Magazine_, 1756, p. 146.

[265] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 172.

[266] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 321.

[267] _Irish Evangelist_, March, 1868.

[268] Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 105.

[269] Atmore’s “Methodist Memorial,” p. 336.

[270] It is said that the entire edition was destroyed, with the exception of about thirty copies. (_Wesleyan Times_, Dec. 31, 1860.)

[271] Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 424.

[272] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 598.

[273] This agreement was signed by J. Wesley, C. Wesley, W. Shent, John Jones, John Downes, and John Nelson. See p. 138 of this volume.

[274] Life of Rev. S. Walker, p. 201.

[275] Walker’s Life, p. 207.

[276] Walker’s Life, p. 203; and _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 641.

[277] Walker’s Life, p. 215.

[278] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 644.

[279] Walker’s Life, p. 216.

[280] Ibid. p. 221.

[281] Ibid. p. 224.

[282] Walker’s Life, p. 228.

[283] C. Wesley’s Journal.

[284] Myles’s History.

[285] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 62.

[286] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 648.

[287] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 601.

[288] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 434.

[289] Wesley’s Works, vol. x., p. 323.

[290] “Collection of Letters on Sacred Subjects.” Dublin: 1784. P. 17.

[291] Wesley’s Works, vol. xi., p. 275.

[292] _Methodist Magazine_, 1798, p. 92.

[293] Wesley’s Works, vol. vi., p. 69.

[294] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 184.

[295] This was not true. Wesley writes: “I was under no necessity, though I doubt not but Mr. Law heard I was, and very seriously believed it. I very rarely mention his books in public; nor are they in the way of one in a hundred of those whom he terms my people. I had therefore no temptation, any more than power, to forbid the use of them to the Methodists in general. Whosoever informed Mr. Law of this, wanted either sense or honesty.” (Wesley’s Works, vol. iii., p. 18.) Still perhaps Law had some reason to complain. When Wesley paid his last visit to Dr. Byrom, in 1761, the doctor accused him of having expelled six men from the Methodist society, “for reading Jacob Behmen and Mr. Law.” Wesley’s reply was, that they were expelled, “not for reading the books, which was as indifferent as the colour of their hair; but, if they would thrust their hair into other people’s eyes, and trouble them with their notions, _that_ was his reason.” Byrom adds: “Wesley put the matter very magisterially, upon his own authority; so that I used the expression of _Pope John_ to him, and _Your Holiness_.” (_Methodist Magazine_, 1863, p. 1104.)

[296] “Collection of Letters by W. Law.” London: 1760.

[297] “Collection of Letters by W. Law.” London: 1760. P. 198.

[298] Berridge, in a letter to Lady Huntingdon, dated March 23, 1770, writes: “No trap so mischievous to the field preacher as wedlock. Matrimony has quite maimed poor Charles” [Wesley], “and might have spoiled John” [Wesley] “and George” [Whitefield], “if a wise Master had not graciously sent them a brace of ferrets.” (“Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 389.)

[299] Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., pp. 135-137.

[300] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 207.

[301] Ibid. p. 206.

[302] _Methodist Magazine_, 1856, p. 761.

[303] Manuscript.

[304] Wesley’s Works, vol xii., p. 173.

[305] York society book.

[306] This was the Rev. Mr. Vowler, curate of St. Agnes. He died, within a year afterwards, on July 30, 1758. He was a young man, in the prime of life, who entered into all Mr. Walker’s projects, with great zeal and piety. A weeping throng crowded to his burial, and Walker preached his funeral sermon to the society at Truro. (Walker’s Life, p. 451.) Wesley bears testimony, that “he rejoiced in the love of God; both preached and lived the gospel; and was an upright, zealous, indefatigable labourer” in the great Master’s vineyard. (Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 402; and vol. iii., p. 108.) He heard him preach in St. Agnes’ church “two such thundering sermons as he had scarce heard these twenty years.”

[307] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 48.

[308] Ibid. 1782, p. 269.

[309] Manuscript letter.

[310] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 110.

[311] _Methodist Magazine_, 1779, p. 536.

[312] Ibid. 1797, p. 611.

[313] Mrs. Fletcher’s Life.

[314] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 202.

[315] See _Methodist Magazine_, 1782, p. 267; and p. 109 of this volume.

[316] _Methodist Magazine_, 1782, p. 44.

[317] Ibid. 1823, p. 706.

[318] Ibid. 1806.

[319] _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1757, p. 382.

[320] Afterwards the Rev. John Newton, vicar of Olney.

[321] Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 468.

[322] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 139.

[323] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 229.

[324] _Methodist Magazine_, 1854, p. 58.

[325] Melville Horne’s “Investigation,” p. 37.

[326] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 330.

[327] Benson’s Life of Fletcher; and _Methodist Magazine_, 1854, p. 58.

[328] _Methodist Magazine_, 1843, p. 1033.

[329] _Methodist Magazine_, 1863, p. 1101.

[330] “Memoirs of Rev. John Newton,” second edition, p. 256.

[331] Minutes of Conference (edit. 1862), vol. i., p. 711.

[332] _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1794, p. 574.

[333] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 173.

[334] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 223.

[335] Minutes of Conference (edit. 1862), vol. i., p. 711.

[336] Minutes of Conference (edit. 1862), vol. i., p. 713.

[337] _Methodist Magazine_, 1826, p. 463.

[338] “Methodism in Frome,” p. 41; and _Methodist Magazine_, 1835, p. 812.

[339] Whittingham’s Memoir of Berridge.

[340] _Methodist Magazine_, 1797, p. 457.

[341] Memoirs of Newton.

[342] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 54.

[343] “Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon.”

[344] _Wesleyan Chronicle_, 1843, p. 267.

[345] Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 411.

[346] Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., pp. 84, 137.

[347] Hervey’s Works, vol. vi., p. 343.

[348] Both 12mo, pages 10 and 16.

[349] Nichols’ “Literary Anecdotes.”

[350] “Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 395.

[351] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. ii., p. 219.

[352] “Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 399.

[353] See Jones’s Works.

[354] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 165.

[355] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 326.

[356] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 175.

[357] Manuscript; and _Methodist Magazine_, 1827, p. 20.

[358] Manuscript.

[359] Manuscript.

[360] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 611.

[361] The letter was written about a month after Wesley had been at Sunderland.

[362] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 168. Mr. Goodday lived in Hallgarth Square, next door to the Methodist meeting-house, into which he had a private entrance. Here he constantly took his seat; nor was he ever known to absent himself from hearing the plainest preacher, or the feeblest exhorter. (_Methodist Magazine_, 1829, p. 795.)

[363] _Methodist Magazine_, 1797, p. 354. It may be added, that, in 1775, Dr. Conyers became rector of Deptford, where he converted his coach-house and stable into a domestic chapel, and established lectures four nights every week. On April 23, 1786, after preaching to a crowded congregation in Deptford church, and while pronouncing the benediction, his speech faltered; he was taken home; and, within four hours afterwards, he was in heaven.

[364] After all, this was an ecclesiastical peccadillo. The following is an extract from the seventy-fourth canon of the Church of England, and has never been repealed. “All deans, masters of colleges, archdeacons and prebendaries, doctors in divinity, bachelors in divinity, and masters of arts, having any ecclesiastical livings, shall usually wear, in their journeys, cloaks with sleeves, without gards, welts, long buttons, or cuts. And no ecclesiastical person shall wear any coif or wrought nightcap, but only plain nightcaps of black silk, satin, or velvet. In private houses and in their studies, the said persons ecclesiastical may use any comely and scholarlike apparel, provided that it be not cut or pinckt, and that in public they go not in their doublet and hose, without coats or cassocks; and that they wear not any _light coloured stockings_.” How is it that the ritualists of the present day disregard this canon of their church?

[365] Stevens’s “History of Methodism,” vol. ii., p. 19.

[366] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 168.

[367] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 104; and 1833, p. 52.

[368] Wesley’s Works, vol. ix., p. 104. In the year following, Mr. Downes’s widow published a letter against Wesley, which, says he, “scarce deserves any notice at all, as there is nothing extraordinary in it, but an extraordinary degree of virulence and scurrility.” (_Lloyd’s Evening Post_, Nov. 24, 1760.)

[369] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. ii., p. 245.

[370] S. Francks’ manuscript letter.

[371] Manuscript.

[372] Wesley’s Works, vol. xi., p. 378, etc.

[373] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 390.

[374] _Irish Evangelist_, Nov. 1, 1860.

[375] _London Magazine_, 1760, p. 147.

[376] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 176.

[377] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 499.

[378] _Methodist Magazine_, 1797, p. 305.

[379] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 111.

[380] I say _probably_. I think it possible that Wesley used the word “Sussex” in mistake for “Kentish.”

[381] _London Magazine_, 1761, p. 413; _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, July 1, 1761.

[382] _Methodist Magazine_, 1848, p. 1227; and manuscript letter, kindly lent by Mr. G. Stevenson.

[383] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 112.

[384] Mr. Newton now filled the office of tide surveyor at Liverpool, and was in possession of a comfortable salary. In this same year, 1760, he published a volume of his sermons, though he was not ordained for four years afterwards. The emoluments of his Olney curacy were only £60 per annum. (“Life of Rev. John Newton.”)

[385] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 441.

[386] Walpole’s Letters, vol. iii.; and _London Magazine_ and _Christian Magazine_, for 1760.

[387] _Methodist Magazine_, 1797, p. 459.

[388] Everett’s Folio, vol. iii., p. 451.

[389] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, Nov. 24, 1760.

[390] Nichols’ Literary Anecdotes, vol. viii., p. 229; and _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1761, p. 286.

[391] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, Nov. 24, 1760.

[392] _Monthly Review_, 1761, p. 473.

[393] One of Wesley’s letters is given on p. 244 of this volume.

[394] Pp. 296-299.

[395] P. 470.

[396] P. 472.

[397] P. 516.

[398] P. 586.

[399] P. 690.

[400] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, Nov. 17, 1760.

[401] Widow of the Rev. John Downes, whose attack on Methodism is mentioned on p. 342 of this volume.

[402] The Rev. Alexander Jephson.

[403] Dr. Green, dean of Lincoln.

[404] Author of “Caveat against the Methodists,” which I have not seen.

[405] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, Dec. 1, 1760.

[406] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, Dec. 24, 1760.

[407] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 334.

[408] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 386.

[409] Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 180.

[410] Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 183.

[411] Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 184.

[412] Ibid. p. 185.

[413] Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 186.

[414] Ibid. p. 188.

[415] Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 191.

[416] Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 196.

[417] _Methodist Magazine_, 1848, p. 1205.

[418] This list is taken, chiefly, from Myles’s “Chronological History”; but it is far from being perfect.

[419] _Methodist Magazine_, 1806, p. 518.

[420] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 329.

[421] This wretched man, in 1761, published a silly octavo two-shilling pamphlet, entitled, “Union: or, a Treatise of the Consanguinity and Affinity between Christ and His Church.” The _Monthly Review_ of that period, p. 87, observes:—“The author says he is quite _above uncertainty_, in respect of the matter and scope of his treatise; but freely owns his defects as a writer,—which are, indeed, so many and so great, that he does not even ‘pretend to the abilities of _falliable_ authors.’ However, if some ‘busy critic, whose genius leads him ever in search of offal, or the _pidling_ pedant, who feeds on garbage,’ should pretend to detect in his book, not only bad grammar (of which there is plenty), but inaccuracies in phrase and errors in judgment, yet, he says, he has ‘an _infalliable_ remedy in silence.’” Other particulars of this mischievous antinomian could easily be given; but suffice it to add that, in 1764, a case came before the lord chancellor, in Lincoln’s Inn, in which a Yorkshire lady was plaintiff, and James Relly and others were defendants. The allegations of the plaintiff were—(1) that Relly had fraudulently obtained from her, while she was labouring under a fit of enthusiastic frenzy, a deed securing to him an annuity of £5 per annum for his life, without giving to her any valuable consideration; and (2) that, in addition to this deed, Relly had received from her a considerable sum of money, under the like circumstance. The hall, at the hearing of the case, was crowded; and the decision of the court, which gave great satisfaction, was that the deed be cancelled, and the money be refunded. (_London Magazine_, 1764, p. 654.)

[422] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 670.

[423] At this period, the Rev. Henry Venn had recently removed from Clapham to Huddersfield, where his church became crowded to such an extent, that many were not able to procure admission. His irregularities were such as the following. He would often address the congregation from the desk, briefly explaining and enforcing the psalms and the lessons. He would frequently _begin_ the service with a solemn, extemporised exhortation. Instead of reading his sermons, he only used short notes. He statedly visited, on the week days, the different hamlets in his extensive parish, and held service in private houses. (Venn’s Life, p. 26.)

[424] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 672.

[425] _Methodist Magazine_, 1781, p. 219.

[426] Ibid. 1781, p. 143.

[427] _Methodist Magazine_, 1846, p. 1188.

[428] _Methodist Magazine_, 1781, p. 142.

[429] Ibid. 1827, p. 428.

[430] “History of Methodism in Darlington,” p. 17.

[431] Private manuscripts, and Wilson’s “Dissenting Churches.”

[432] Dixon’s “Methodism in America,” p. 75.

[433] Atmore’s “Methodist Memorial.”

[434] Jacob Rowell’s manuscripts. The following are some of the entries in Yarm society book, for 1761:—“Mr. Fugill’s and Mr. Wesley’s charges, 13_s._ 8_d._ Paid the lad for dressing the horses, 1_s._ 6_d._ Half a pound of _lickrish_ for Mr. Megget’s horse, 6_d._ A pound and a half of candles, 9_d._ Preacher’s watch mending, 2_s._ 3_d._ _Lousing_ a letter, 4_d._”

[435] “History of Methodism in Darlington.”

[436] _Methodist Magazine_, 1808, p. 88.

[437] Ibid. 1810, p. 216.

[438] Memoir of Cussons, p. 6.

[439] Manuscript.

[440] _Methodist Magazine_, 1826, p. 595.

[441] An idea of the low state of Methodism at York may be formed from a fact, stated in the old society book, namely, that the seat rents of the chapel amounted to only £8 per year; that the monthly collections averaged not more than about 5_s._ 8_d._ each; and the class moneys hardly 6_s._ 6_d._ weekly.

[442] _Methodist Magazine_, 1827, p. 225.

[443] Ibid. 1845, p. 116.

[444] Old newspaper.

[445] Everett’s “Methodism in Sheffield.”

[446] Manuscript.

[447] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 224. We have before us two unpublished letters, written by Alexander Coates to Wesley, and dated respectively “July 14, 1761,” and “September 29, 1761.” Both refer to the points which Wesley here mentions; but the letters, though deeply interesting, are too lengthy for insertion. Suffice it to say, that Sandy Coates believed that he would be sanctified just before he had to die; and that, meanwhile, it was his “duty and his privilege to persevere in grace.” He confesses, that Wesley’s “perfect folk” gave him but little satisfaction, and that he had received tempting offers, both at London and Leeds, to leave the Methodists; but he had no intention of doing so. Coates, as his letters show, was a good man, with great courage and independency of thought; but though he read several languages, he was without any mental discipline. No doubt, he was serviceable in saving souls; but he was utterly unfit for the professor’s chair; and to think of him solving the vexed questions which were now agitating the Methodists was simply ridiculous.

[448] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 177.

[449] Ibid. p. 178.

[450] Manuscript.

[451] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 113.

[452] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 331.

[453] At the first Methodist conference, in 1744, it was asked, “Is faith the condition, or the instrument, of sanctification?” And it was answered, “It is both the condition and instrument of it. When we begin to believe, then sanctification begins; and as faith increases, holiness increases, till we are created anew.”

[454] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 332.

[455] _Methodist Magazine_, 1781, p. 390.

[456] _Methodist Magazine_, 1783, p. 106.

[457] Ibid. 1782, p. 272.

[458] Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 297.

[459] Ibid. p. 298.

[460] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 113.

[461] _London Magazine_, 1761, p. 19.

[462] Ibid. p. 36.

[463] Ibid. p. 35.

[464] Ibid. p. 91.

[465] Ibid. p. 91; also Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 371.

[466] _London Magazine_, 1761, p. 356.

[467] Manuscript letter of J. Pawson.

[468] _Methodist Magazine_, 1782, pp. 157, 386; and 1783, p. 328.

[469] Wesley’s Works, vol. iii., p. 149.

[470] Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 218.

[471] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 385.

[472] Wesley’s Works, vol. iii., p. 120.

[473] _Methodist Magazine_, 1780, p. 674.

[474] Maxfield’s “Vindication,” p. 14.

[475] Wesley’s Works, vol. iii., p. 117.

[476] _Methodist Magazine_, 1790, p. 42.

[477] Wesley’s Works, vol. iii., p. 76.

[478] _Methodist Magazine_, 1795, p. 50.

[479] Maxfield’s “Vindication,” p. 16.

[480] Manuscript.

[481] _London Chronicle_, Feb. 26, 1763; and _London Magazine_, 1763, p. 162.

[482] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 287.

[483] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, March 2, 1763.

[484] Ibid. March 21, 1763.

[485] Wesley’s Works, vol. iv., p. 232.

[486] Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley, vol. ii., p. 210.

[487] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 333.

[488] Reilly’s “Memoir of an Actor.”

[489] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 281. Grimshaw had died triumphantly four months before.

[490] _Christian Miscellany_, 1865, p. 284.

[491] _Methodist Magazine_, 1865, p. 985.

[492] _Methodist Magazine_, 1856, p. 988.

[493] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 342.

[494] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 193.

[495] _Methodist Magazine_, 1783, p. 108.

[496] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 115.

[497] Ibid. p. 116.

[498] _Monthly Review_, 1762.

[499] _Monthly Review_, 1762.

[500] _London Chronicle_, Jan. 8, 1763.

[501] _London Chronicle_, Jan. 15, 1763.

[502] Ibid. Feb. 10, 1763.

[503] Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol ii., p. 299.

[504] _Methodist Magazine_, 1794, p. 565.

[505] Ibid. 1794, p. 566.

[506] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 116.

[507] Ibid vol. xii., pp. 116, 117.

[508] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 329.

[509] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 330.

[510] _Methodist Magazine_, 1795, p. 49.

[511] Ibid. p. 151.

[512] _Methodist Magazine_, 1797, p. 351.

[513] _London Magazine_, 1763, p. 48.

[514] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, Jan. 26, 1763.

[515] For a full account of the society, see the “Life and Times of the Rev. Samuel Wesley,” pp. 213-224.

[516] The figures were: Whitefield’s followers, about 20; Wesley’s, about 50; Churchmen, about 20; Dissenters, about 70.

[517] _London Chronicle_, April 5, 1763.

[518] The reason of this was the excited state of the London Methodists. Hence, the following extract from an unpublished letter, kindly lent by Charles Reed, Esq., M.P.

“LONDON, _March 21, 1763_.

“MY DEAR SISTER,—My coming into the country is quite uncertain, till I see what turn things here will take. I am glad to hear the work of God prospers among you; etc.

“J. WESLEY.”

[519] _Methodist Magazine_, 1782, p. 443.

[520] Lady Maxwell’s Life.

[521] Lady Glenorchy’s Life.

[522] Myles’s “Chronological History.”

[523] Manuscript letter.

[524] Ward’s “Strictures.”

[525] Rev. Valentine Ward’s manuscript diary.

[526] _Methodist Magazine_, 1813, p. 74.

[527] _Methodist Magazine_, 1782, p. 216.

[528] “Minutes of Several Conversations,” etc. 1763: 12mo. 30 pages. P. 2.

[529] “Minutes of Several Conversations,” etc. 1763: 12mo. 30 pages. P. 3.

[530] Ibid. p. 4.

[531] Ibid. p. 5.

[532] Ibid. p. 6.

[533] Ibid. p. 6.

[534] Ibid. p. 7.

[535] “Minutes of Several Conversations,” etc. 1763: 12mo. 30 pages. Pp. 7, 8.

[536] Ibid. p. 9.

[537] Ibid. p. 11.

[538] Ibid. pp. 12-15.

[539] Ibid. p. 18.

[540] Ibid. p. 18.

[541] “Minutes of Several Conversations,” etc. 1763: 12mo. 30 pages. P. 19.

[542] Ibid. p. 19.

[543] Ibid. pp. 20-22.

[544] Ibid. pp. 23, 24.

[545] “Minutes of Several Conversations,” etc. 1763: 12mo. 30 pages. Pp. 24, 25.

[546] Ibid. pp. 25-27.

[547] Ibid. pp. 27-30.

[548] “Minutes of Several Conversations,” etc. 1763: 12mo. 30 pages. P. 30.

[549] Ibid. p. 30.

[550] _Methodist Magazine_, 1804, p. 269.

[551] Evans’s “Sketch of all Religions.”

[552] _Methodist Magazine_, 1782, p. 550.

[553] Ibid. 1782, p. 667.

[554] Ibid. 1801, p. 194.

[555] _Methodist Magazine_, 1821, p. 883.

[556] Life of Byrom, prefixed to his Poems.

[557] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, April 23, 1777.

[558] _Methodist Magazine_, 1863, p. 905.

[559] _Methodist Magazine_, 1863, p. 777.

[560] Ibid. p. 599.

[561] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiv., p. 272.

[562] Ibid. vol. iii., p. 475.

[563] Wesley’s Works, vol. x., p. 432.

[564] “Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 331; “Methodism in Sheffield,” p. 185; and manuscript letter of John Pawson.

[565] Was this William Crabb, who left the itinerancy in 1764?

[566] Wesley’s Works, vol. x., p. 432.

[567] Myles’s History, p. 88.

[568] Olivers’ Letter to Toplady, 1771, p. 50.

[569] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiv., p. 329.

[570] Everett’s Life of Dr. A. Clarke, vol. i., p. 244.

[571] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 114.

[572] Wesley’s Works, vol. x., p. 340.

[573] The following are the first lines of the paragraphs, in