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LIF E O F W E S L E Y.
VOL. II.
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THE
LIFE OF WESLEY:
R IS E A N D P R O G. R. E. SS
OF
METHODISM,
By ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ, LL.D.
Qſì)írt, 35tition,
WITH
NOTES BY THE LATE SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, ESQ.
AND
REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY, BY
THE LATE ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ.
EDITED BY
THE REW, CHARLES CUTHBERT SOUTHEY, M.A.
CURATE OF COCKERMOU"l'H,
I N T W O V O L U M ES:
VOL. II.
L ON DO N :
PRINTED FOR
LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS,
PATERNOSTER - R.O.W.
1846.
TIIE
LIFE OF W E SLEY,
CHAPTER XVII.
John OLIVER –JoHN PAWSON.—ALEXANDER MATHER.
—THOMAS OLIVERS.
JoHN OLIVER, the son of a tradesman at Stockport
in Cheshire, received the rudiments of a liberal edu-
cation at the grammar-school in that town; but at the
age of thirteen, in consequence of reduced circum-
stances, was taken into his father's shop. When he
was about fifteen, the Methodists came to Stockport:
he partook the general prejudice against them, and
calling upon one with whom he chanced to be ac-
quainted, took upon himself to convince him that he
was of a bad religion, which was hostile to the Church.
The Methodist, in reply, easily convinced him that he
had no religion at all. His pride was mortified at
this defeat, and he went near his acquaintance no
more; but the boy was touched at heart also: he left
off his idle and criminal diversions (of which cock-
fighting was one), read, prayed, fasted, regularly
attended church, and repeated the prayers and collects
every day. This continued ..some months, without
any apparent evil; but having, at his father's instance,
spent a Sabbath evening at an inn, with some young
comrades from Manchester, and forgotten all his good
VOL. II. IB
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2 JOHN OLIVER,
resolutions while he was in their company, he came
home at night in an agony of mind. He did not
dare to pray: his conscience stared him in the face;
and he became melancholy. The cause of this dis-
temper was more obvious than the cure; and when he
was invited one evening to attend a meeting, the father
declared he would knock his brains out if he went,
though he should be hanged for it. John Oliver knew
how little was meant by this threat, and stole away to
the sermon. He “drank it in with all his heart ;”
and having afterwards been informed, by a female
disciple, of the manner of her conversion, he was “all
in a flame to know these things for himself.” So he
hastened home, fell to prayer, fancied twice that he
heard a voice distinctly saying his sins were forgiven
him, and felt, in that instant, that all his load was
gone, and that an inexpressible change had been
wrought. “I loved God,” he says: “I loved all man-
kind. I could not tell whether I was in the body or
out of it. Prayer was turned into wonder, love, and
praise.” In this state of exaltation he joined the
society.
Mr. Oliver was a man of violent temper: he loved
his son dearly ; and thinking that a boy of sixteen
was not emancipated from the obligation of filial obe-
dience, his anger at the course which John persisted
in pursuing, was strong in proportion to the strength
of his affection. He sent to all the Methodists in the
town, threatening what he would do if any of them
dared receive him into their houses. He tried se-
verity, by the advice of stupid men; and broke not
only sticks but chairs upon him, in his passion. Per-
ceiving that these brutal means were ineffectual, and
perhaps inwardly ashamed of them, he reproached his
undutiful child with breaking his father's heart, and
bringing down his grey hairs with sorrow to the
grave. The distress of the father, and the stubborn
JOHN OLIVER, 3
resolution of the son, were now matter of public talk
in Stockport. Several clergymen endeavoured to con-
vince the lad of his misconduct. One of them, who
had been his schoolmaster, called him his child, prayed
for him, wept over him, and conjured him, as he
loved his own soul, not to go near those people any
more. The father, in presence of this clergyman,
told his son, that he might attend the church prayers
every day, and should have every indulgence which
he could ask, provided he would come no more near
those “damned villains,” as he called the objects of
his violent, but not unreasonable prejudice. John's
reply was, that he would do every thing in his power
to satisfy him as a child to a parent, but that this was
a matter of conscience which he could not give up.
Mr. Oliver had good cause for apprehending the
worst consequences from that spirit of fanaticism with
which the boy was so thoroughly possessed. The
disease was advancing rapidly toward a crisis. At
this time, his heart was “kept in peace and love all
the day long;” and when his band-fellows spoke of
the wickedness which they felt in themselves, he
wondered at them, and could discover none in him-
self. It was not long before he made the discovery.
“Having,” he says, “given way to temptation, and
grieved the Holy Spirit of God,” all his comforts were
withdrawn in a moment : “my soul was all over
darkness: I could no longer see him that is invisible:
I could not feel his influence on my heart: I sought
him, but could not find him. I endeavoured to pray,
but the heavens seemed like brass: at the same time
such a weight came upon me, as if I was instantly to
be pressed to death. I sunk into black despair: I
found no gleam of light, no trace of hope, no token of
any kind for good. The Devil improved this hour of
darkness, telling me I was sure to be damned, for I
IB 2
4 JOHN OLIVER,
was forsaken of God. Sleep departed from me, and
I scarce eat any thing, till I was reduced to a mere
skeleton.” One morning, being no longer able to
endure this misery, and resolving to put an end to
his wretched life, he rose very early, and threw him-
self into the river, in deep water. How he was taken
out, and conveyed to the house of a Methodist, he
says, is what he never could tell; “unless God sent
one of his ministering spirits to help in the time
of need.” A humbler Christian would have been
satisfied with gratefully acknowledging the providence
of God: he, however, flattered himself with the sup-
position of a miracle; and Wesley, many years after-
wards, published the account without reprehension or
comment. That evening, there was preaching and
praying in the house; but, in the morning, “Satan
came upon him like thunder,” telling him he was
a self-murderer; and he attempted to strangle him-
self with a handkerchief. It was now thought proper
to send for Mr. Oliver, who had been almost distracted
all this while, fearing what might so probably have
happened to the poor bewildered boy. He took him
home, promising to use no severity; for John was
afraid to go. A physician was called in, whom Oliver
calls an utter stranger to all religion. He bled him
largely, physicked him well, and blistered him on the
head, back, and feet. It was very possible that the
bodily disease required some active treatment: the
leaven of the mind was not thus to be worked off.
The first time that he was permitted to go out, one of
his Methodist friends advised him to elope, seeing
that he would not be permitted to serve God at home.
He went to Manchester: his mother followed him,
and found means to bring him back by force : the
father then gave up the contest in despair, and John
pursued his own course without further opposition.
Now it was, he says, that his strength came again:
JOHN BAWSON. 5
his light, his life, his God. He began to exhort: soon
afterward he fancied himself called to some more pub-
lic work; and, having passed through the previous
stages, was accepted by Wesley upon trial as a tra-
velling preacher. At the year's end he would have
gone home, from humility, not from any weariness of
his vocation. Wesley's reply was, “You have set
your hand to the gospel-plough, therefore never look
back I would have you come up to London this
winter. Here is every thing to make the man of God
perfect.” He accepted the invitation ; and had been
thirty years an active and successful preacher, when
his life and portrait were exhibited in the Arminian
Magazine. #-
Oliver describes himself as having always been of a
fearful temper—a temper which is often connected
with rashness. During part of his life, he was afflicted
with what he calls a scrofulous disorder. A prac-
titioner in Essex, to whom he applied for relief, and
who began his practice by prayer, told him his whole
mass of blood was corrupted, and advised him to a
milk diet: he took daily a quart of milk, with white
bread, and two table-spoonfuls of honey. In six
months his whole habit of body was changed, and no
symptom of the disorder ever appeared afterwards.
John Pawson was the son of a respectable farmer,
who cultivated his own estate, at Thorner, in York-
shire. His parents were of the Church of England,
and gave him a good education according to their
means, and though, he says, they were strangers to
the life and power of religion, brought him up in the
fear of God. The father followed also the trade of a
builder, and this son was bred to the same business.
The youth knowing the Methodists only by common
report, supposed them to be a foolish and wicked
people; till happening to hear a person give an account
of his wife, who was a Methodist, he conceived a
B 3 ,
6 JOHN PAWSON.
better opinion of them, and felt a wish to hear them.
Accordingly he went one evening to their place of meet-
ing; but, when he came to the door, he was ashamed
to go in, and so walked round the house, and returned
home. This was in his 18th year. He was now em-
loyed at Harewood, and fell into profligate company,
who, though they did not succeed in corrupting him,
made him dislike Methodism more than ever. -
Two sermons, which had been preached at the
parish church in Leeds by a methodistical clergyman,
were lent to his father when Pawson was about
twenty. These fell into his hands, and convinced him
that justification by faith was necessary to salvation.
He went now to Otley to hear a Methodist preach;
and from that hour his course of life was determined.
The serious devout behaviour of the people, he says,
struck him with a kind of religious awe; the singing
greatly delighted him; and the sermon was, to use
his own phraseology, “much blest to his soul.” He
was permitted to stay, and be present at the Society
Meeting, and “had cause to bless God for it.”
There was nothing wavering in this man's cha-
racter: he had been morally and religiously brought
up; his disposition, from the beginning, was good,
and his devotional feelings strong. But his relations
were exceedingly offended when he declared himself a
Methodist. An uncle, who had promised to be his
friend, resolved that he would leave him nothing in
his will, and kept the resolution. His parents, and
his brother and sisters, supposed him to be totally
ruined. Sometimes his father threatened to turn him
out of doors, and utterly disown him: but John was
his eldest son: he dearly loved him; and this fault,
bitterly as he regretted and resented it, was not of a
nature to destroy his natural affection. He tried
persuasion, as well as threats; beseeching him not to
run wilfully after his own ruin; and his mother fre-
JOHN PAWSON. 7
quently wept much on his account. The threat of
disinheriting him gave him no trouble; but the danger
which he believed their souls were in distressed him
sorely. “I did not regard what I suffered,” says he,
“so my parents might be brought out of their Egyp-
tian darkness.” He bought books, and laid them in
his father's way, and it was a hopeful symptom that
the father read them, although it seemed to no good
purpose. The seed, however, had struck root in the
family: his brother and some of his sisters were
“awakened.” The father became more severe with
John, as the prime cause of all this mischief: then
again he tried mild means, and told him to buy what
books he pleased, but besought him not to go to the
preachings: he might learn more by reading Mr.
Wesley's writings, than by hearing the lay-preachers;
and the Methodists, he said, were so universally hated,
that it would ruin his character to go among them.
. It was “hard work” to withstand the entreaties of a
good father; and it was not less hard to refrain from
what he verily believed essential to his salvation.
There was preaching one Sunday near the house, and,
in obedience, he kept away; but when it was over,
and he saw the people returning home, full of the
consolation which they had received, his grief became
too strong for him; he went into the garden, and wept
bitterly; and, as his emotions became more powerful,
retired into a solitary place, and there, he says, be-
moaned himself before the Lord, in such anguish, that
he was scarcely able to look up. In this situation his
father found him, and took him into the fields to see
the grass and corn; but the cheerful images of nature
produced no effect upon a mind thus agitated; and
the father was grievously troubled, believing verily
that his son would run distracted. They returned
home in time to attend the Church service ; and, in
the evening, as was their custom, John read aloud
B 4
8 - JOHN PAWSON.
from some religious book, choosing one to his purpose.
Seeing that his father approved of what he read, he
ventured to speak to him in defence of his principles.
The father grew angry, and spoke with bitterness.
“I find,” said the old man, “thou art now entirely
ruined. I have used every means I can think of, but
all to no purpose. I rejoiced at thy birth, and I
once thought thou wast as hopeful a young man as
any in this town; but now I shall have no more com-
fort in thee so long as I live. Thy mother and I are
grown old, and thou makest our lives quite miserable:
thou wilt bring down our grey hairs with sorrow to
the grave. Thou intendest to make my house a
preaching-house, when once my head is laid; but it
shall never be thine: no, I will leave all I have to the
poor of the parish, before the Methodists shall have
any thing to do with it.” Pawson was exceedingly
affected; and the father seeing this, desired him to
promise that he would hear their preaching no more.
He replied, when he could speak for weeping, that if
he could see a sufficient reason he would make that
promise; but not till then. “Well,” replied the old
man, “I see thou art quite stupid — I may as well
say nothing: the Methodists are the most bewitching
people that ever lived; for, when once a person hears
them, it is impossible to persuade him to return back
again.” - -
Pawson retired from this conversation in great
trouble, and was tempted to think that he was guilty
of disobeying his parents; but he satisfied himself
that he must obey God rather than man. It was a
great comfort to him that his brothers sympathised
with him entirely: they both strove to oblige their
parents as much as possible, and took especial care
that no business should be neglected for the preaching.
This conduct had its effect. They used to pray toge-
ther in their chamber. The mother, after often listen-
JOHN PAWSON. 9
ing on the stairs, desired at last to join them; and
the father became, in like manner, a listener at first,
and afterwards a partaker in these devotions. The
minister of the parish now began to apprehend that he
should lose the whole family: the way by which he
attempted to retain them was neither wise nor chari-
table; it was by reviling and calumniating the Metho-
dists, and in this manner inflaming the father's wrath
against the son. This was Pawson's last trial: perceiv-
ing the effect which was thus produced, he wrote a
letter to his father, in which, after stating his feelings
concerning his own soul, he came to plain arguments,
which could not but have their due weight. “What
worse am I, in any respect, since I heard the Metho-
dists? Am I disobedient to you or my mother in any
other thing 7 Do I neglect any part of business P’’
He asked him also why he condemned the preachers,
whom he had never heard. “If you will hear them
only three times,” said he, “ and then prove from the
Scripture that they preach contrary thereunto, I will
hear them no more.” The old man accepted this pro-
posal. The first sermon he liked tolerably well, the
second not at all, and the third so much, that he went
to hear a fourth, which pleased him better than all
the rest. His own mind was now wholly unsettled:
he retired one morning into the stable, where nobody
might hear or see him, that he might pray without
interruption to the Lord ; and here such a paroxysm
came on, “that he roared for the very disquietness of
his soul.”—“This,” says Pawson, “was a day of glad
tidings to me. I now had liberty to cast in my lot
with the people of God. My father invited the
preachers to his house, and prevented my turning it
into a preaching-house, (as he had formerly said,) by
doing it himself. From this time we had preachings
in our own house, and all the family joined the
Society.”
10 JOHN PAWSON.
It might have been thought that the proselyte had
now obtained his soul's desire; but he had not at-
tained to the new birth: his prayer was, that the Lord
would take away his heart of stone, and give him a
heart of flesh; and, ere long, as he was “hearing the
word” in a neighbouring village, the crisis which he
solicited came on. “In the beginning of the service,”
says he, “the power of God came mightly upon me
and many others. All on a sudden my heart was
like melting wax: I cried aloud with an exceeding
bitter cry. The arrows of the Almighty stuck fast in
my flesh, and the poison of them drank up my spirits;
yet in the height of my distress I could bless the
Lord, that he had granted me that which I had so long
sought for.” It was well that his father had been
converted before he reached this stage, or he might
with some reason have believed that Methodism had
made his son insane. He could take no delight in any
thing; his business became a burthen to him; he was
quite confused; so that any one, he says, who looked
on him, might see in his countenance the distress of his
mind, for he was on the very brink of despair. One
day he was utterly confounded by hearing that one of
his acquaintance had received an assurance of salva-
tion, when he had only heard three sermons; whereas
he, who had long waited, was still without comfort.
Public thanks were given for this new birth; and
Pawson went home from the meeting to give vent to
his own grief. As he could not do this in his cham-
ber without disturbing the family, he retired into the
barn, where he might perform freely, and there began
to pray, and weep, and roar aloud, for his distress was
greater than he could well bear. Presently he found
that his brother was in another part of the barn, in as
much distress as himself. Their cries brought in the
father and mother, the eldest sister, and her husband,
and all being in the same condition, they all lamented
JOHN PAWSON. - 11
together. “I suppose,” says Pawson, “if some of the
good Christians of the age had seen or heard us, they
would have concluded we were all quite beside our-
selves. However, “though the children were brought to
the birth, there was not strength to bring forth.” One
Saturday evening, when “there was a mighty shaking
among the dry bones” at the meeting, his father re-
ceived the assurance, and the preacher gave thanks on
his account; but Pawson was so far from being able to
rejoice with him, that, he says, “his soul sunk as into
the belly of hell.” On the day following the preacher
met the Society, “in order to wrestle with God in
behalf of those who were in distress. Pawson went
full of sorrow, “panting after the Lord, as the hart
after the water-brooks.” When the prayer for those
in distress was made, he placed himself upon his knees
in the middle of the room, if possible, in greater anguish
of spirit than ever before. Presently a person, whom he
knew, “cried for mercy, as if he would rend the very
heaven.”” “Quickly after, in the twinkling of an
* What shall I say to these and other instances P Disbelieve the
narrators 2 I cannot—I dare not. I seem to be assured that I should
quench the ray, and paralyse the factual nerve, by which I have hitherto
been able to discriminate veracity from falsehood, and deceit from
delusion. Is it then aught real, though subjectively real as the law of
conscience P When I find an instance recorded by a philosopher of
himself, he still continuing to be a philosopher — recorded by a man,
who can give the distinctive marks by which he had satisfied himself
that the experience was not explicable physiologically, nor psychologi-
cally,– I shall think it time to ask myself the question : till then, I
find no more rational solution than that afforded by disorder of the
nervous functions from mental causes, no physical or external disturb-
ing forces being present, and no disease. In such cases we may, I
should think, anticipate certain sudden refluxes of healthful secretions,
and internal actions of the organs: this, and that of a mind perhaps
baffled and drawn back, till at length, either strengthened by accumu-
lated sensation, or availing itself of a quieter moment or conspiring
circumstances, it makes head again, and flows in on the empty channel
in a bore. And this of course would take its shape, and as it were
articulate itself, or interpret itself, by the predominant thoughts, images,
and aims of the individual ; even as life returns upon the drowned,
and as moderate warmth has been known to intoxicate and produce all
12 JOHN PAWSON.
eye,” says Pawson, “all my trouble was gone, my
guilt and condemnation were removed, and I was
filled with joy unspeakable. I was brought out of
darkness into marvellous light; out of miserable
bondage, into glorious liberty; out of the most bitter
distress, into unspeakable happiness. I had not the
least doubt of my acceptance with God, but was fully
assured that he was reconciled to me through the
merits of his Son. I was fully satisfied that I was
born of God: my justification was so clear to me, that
I could neither doubt nor fear.”
The lot of the young man was now cast. He was
shortly afterwards desired to meet a class: it was a
sore trial to him; but obedience was a duty, and he
was “obliged to take up the cross.” “From the
first or second time I met it,” he continues, “I con-
tinually walked in the light of God's countenance: I
served him with an undivided heart. I had no dis-
tressing temptations, but had constant power over all
sin, so that I lived as upon the borders of heaven.”
Henceforward his progress was regular. From reading
the homilies, and explaining them as he went on, he
began to expound the Bible, in his poor manner. The
people thrust him into the pulpit. First he became a
local preacher, then an itinerant, and, finally, a lead-
ing personage of the conference, in which he continued
a steady and useful member till his death.
the thrilling overwhelming synthesis of impatient appetite and intoler-
able fruition, that some constitutions have undergone from inhaling the
nitrous oxyde. Add to this the important fact, that Christianity in its
genuine doctrines contains so much of spiritual verities, that can only be
spiritually discerned, but which will to such individuals seem akin to
their recent exaltations, and therefore actually supply a link ; so that
by these spiritual verities they become, without any sensible discon-
tinuity, connected with the whole series of the duties, humanities,
charities of religion : at verbum sat. In short, the man awakens so
gradually, and opens his eyes by little and little to objects so similar to
his dream, that the dream detaches itself as it were from sleep, and
becomes the commencing portion of the new day-thoughts. – S. T. C.
ALEXANDER MATHER. 13
Alexander Mather was a man of cooler tempera-
ment and better disciplined mind than most of Wes.
ley's coadjutors. He was the son of a baker, at Bre-
chin, in Scotland: his parents were reputable and
religious people: they kept him carefully from evil
company, and brought him up in the fear of God:
but the father was a rigid and severe man; and pro-
bably for this reason, while he was yet a mere boy,
(according to his own account not thirteen,) he joined
the rebels in 1745. Having escaped from Culloden
and the pursuit, he found that his father's doors were
closed against him on his return. By his mother's
help, however, he was secreted among their relations
for several months, till he thought the danger was
over, and ventured a second time to present himself
at home. The father, more, perhaps, from cunning,
than actual want of feeling, not only again refused
him admittance, but went himself and gave informa-
tion against him to the commanding officer, and the
boy would have been sent to prison, if a gentleman of
the town had not interfered, and obtained leave for
him to lodge in his father's house. The next morn-
ing he passed through the form of an examination,
and was discharged. From this time he worked at
his father's business, till, in the nineteenth year of
his age, he thought it advisable to see the world, and
therefore travelled southward. The next year he
reached London, and there engaged himself as a
journeyman baker. Because he was, as he says, a
foreigner, his first master was summoned to Guild-
hall, and compelled to dismiss him. This unjust law
was not afterwards enforced against him, and he
seems to have had no difficulty in obtaining employ-
ment. Before he had been many months in London,
a young woman, who had been bred up with him in
his father's house, sought him out: they had not met
for many years, and this renewal of an old intimacy,
in a strange land, soon ended in marriage.
14 ALEXANDER MATHER.
Mather had made a resolution that he would live
wholly to God whenever he should marry. For a
while he was too happy to remember this resolution:
he remembered it when his wife was afflicted with ill-
ness: it then lay heavy on his mind that he had not
performed his vow of praying with her, and yet some
kind of false feeling prevented him from opening his
heart to her. Day after day the sense of this secret
sin increased upon him, till, after loss of appetite and
of sleep, and tears by day and night, he “broke
through,” as he expresses it, and began the practice
of praying with her, which from that time was never
interrupted. Her education had been a religious one
like his, and they did not depart from the way in
which they were trained up.
Though Mather had no domestic obstacles to over-
come, and never passed through those struggles of
mind which, in many of his colleagues, bordered so
closely upon madness, he was by no means in a sane
state of devotion at this time. It was not sufficient
for him to pray by himself every morning, and every
afternoon with his wife; he sometimes knelt when he
was going to bed, and continued in that position till
two o'clock, when he was called to his work. The
master whom he now served was an attendant at the
Foundry, but, like all others of the same trade, he
was in the practice of what was called “baking of
pans” on a Sunday. Mather regarded this as a breach
of the Sabbath: it troubled him so that he could find
no peace; and his flesh, he says, consumed away, till
the bones were ready to start through his skin. At
length, unable to endure this state of mind, he gave
his master warning. The master, finding by what
motives he was influenced, and that he had not pro-
vided himself with another place, was struck by his
conscientious conduct: he went round to all the trade
in the neighbourhood, and proposed that they should
ALEXANDER MATHER. 15
enter into an agreement not to bake on Sundays.
The majority agreed. He advertised for a meeting of
master bakers upon the subject; but nothing could
be concluded. After all this, which Mather acknow-
ledges was more than he could reasonably expect, he
said to him, “I have done all I can, and now I hope
you will be content.” Mather sincerely thanked him
for what he had done, but declared his intention of
quitting him, as soon as his master could suit himself
with another man. But the master, it seems, took
advice at the Foundry, and on the following Sunday
staid at home, to tell all his customers that he could
bake no more on the Sabbath day. From this time
both he and his wife were particularly kind to Mather.
They introduced him to the Foundry, and he soon
became a regular member of the Society,
It was not long before he had strong impressions
upon his mind that he was called to preach. After
fasting and praying upon this point, he communi-
cated it to his band, and they set apart some days for
the same exercises. This mode of proceeding was
not likely to abate his desire; and the band then ad-
vised him to speak to Mr. Wesley. Wesley replied,
“This is a common temptation among young men.
Several have mentioned it to me; but the next thing
I hear of them is, that they are married, or upon the
point of it.”—“Sir,” said Mather, “I am married
already.” Wesley then bade him not care for the
temptation, but seek God by fasting and prayer. He
made answer, that he had done this; and Wesley re-
commended patience and perseverance in this course;
adding, that he doubted not but God would soon make
the way plain before him. Mather could not but un-
derstand this as an encouragement: he was the more
encouraged, when Wesley shortly afterwards appointed
him first to be the leader of a band, and in a little time
of a class. In both situations he acquitted himself to
16 ALEXANDER MATHER.
the satisfaction of others: his confidence in himself
was, of course, increased, and he went once more to
Mr. Wesley to represent his ardent aspirations. “To
be a Methodist preacher,” said Wesley, “is not the
way to ease, honour, pleasure, or profit. It is a life
of much labour and reproach. They often fare hard
— often are in want. They are liable to be stoned,
beaten, and abused in various manners. Consider
this before you engage in so uncomfortable a way of
life.” The other side of the picture would have been
sufficiently tempting, if Mather had been influenced by
worldly considerations: the danger was just enough to
stimulate enthusiasm: the reproach of strangers would
only heighten the estimation in which he would be held
by believers: no way of life could be more uncom-
fortable than his own ; and what a preferment in the
world for a journeyman baker | The conversation
ended, by allowing him to make a trial on the follow-
ing morning. After a second essay, he received in-
formation nearly at ten at night, that he was to preach
the next morning, at five o'clock, at the Foundry.
This was the critical trial. All the time he was
making his dough he was engaged in meditation and
prayer for assistance. The family were all in bed,
and when he had done, he continued praying and
reading the Bible to find a text till two o'clock. It
was then time to call his fellow-servant, and they went
to work together as usual till near four, preparing the
bread for the oven. His comrade then retired to bed,
and he to his prayers, till a quarter before five, when
he went, in fear and trembling, to the meeting, still
unprepared even with a text. He took up the hymn-
book, and gave out the hymn, in a voice so faint, be-
cause of his timidity, that it could not be understood.
The people, not hearing the verse, knew not what to
sing: he was no singer himself, otherwise he might
have recovered this mishap by leading them ; so
ALEXANDER MATHER. 17
they were at a stand, and this increased his agitation
so much, that his joints shook. However, he reco-
vered himself, and took the text upon which he
opened. The matter after this was left to Mr. Wes-
ley, to employ him as his business would permit, just
when and where he pleased. When first he began to
preach, there was a considerable natural defect in his
delivery; and he spoke with such extreme quickness,
that very few could understand him: but he entirely
overcame this,
The account of the exertions in which this zealous
labourer was now engaged, may best be related in
his own words. He says, “In a little time I was
more employed than my strength would well allow.
I had no time for preaching but what I took from my
sleep; so that I frequently had not eight hours' sleep
in a week. This, with hard labour, constant abste-
miousness, and frequent fasting, brought me so low,
that, in a little more than two years, I was hardly
able to follow my business. My master was often
afraid I should kill myself; and perhaps his fear was
not groundless. I have frequently put off my shirts
as wet with sweat as if they had been dipt in water.
After hastening to finish my business abroad, I have
come home all in a sweat in the evening, changed my
clothes, and ran to preach at one or another chapel;
then walked or ran back, changed my clothes, and
gone to work at ten, wrought hard all night, and
preached at five the next morning. I ran back to
draw the bread at a quarter, or half an hour past six;
wrought hard in the bake-house till eight; then hur-
ried about with bread till the afternoon, and perhaps
at night set off again.”
Had this mode of life continued long, Mather must
have fallen a victim to his zeal. He was probably
saved by being appointed a travelling preacher; yet,
at the very commencement of his itinerancy, his
WOL. II. C
18 ALEXANDER. MATHER. .
course had been nearly cut short. A mob attacked
him at Boston; and when, with great difficulty and
danger, he reached his inn, bruised, bleeding, and
covered with blood, the rabble beset the house, and
the landlord attempted to turn him out, for fear they
should pull it down. Mather, however, knew the
laws, and was not wanting to himself. “Sir,” he
said, “I am in your house; but, while I use it as an
inn, it is mine — turn me out at your peril.” And
he compelled him to apply to a magistrate for pro-
tection. It was more than twelve months before he
recovered from the brutal treatment which he received
on this occasion. The mob at Wolverhampton pulled
down a preaching-house: an attorney had led them
on, and made the first breach himself. Mather gave
him his choice of rebuilding it at his own expense, or
being tried for his life: of course the house was re-
built, and there were no further riots at Wolver-
hampton. He was of a hardy constitution and strong
mind, cool and courageous, zealous and disinterested,
most tender-hearted and charitable, but possessing
withal a large share of prudence, which enabled him
...to conduct the temporal affairs of the Connection
with great ability. The account which, in his ma-
tured and sober mind, he gives of his experience,
touching what Wesley calls the great salvation, bears
with it fewer marks of enthusiasm, and more of me-
ditation, than is usually found in such cases. “What
I experienced in my own soul,” he says, “was an in-
stantaneous deliverance from all those wrong tempers
and affections which I had long and sensibly groaned
under; an entire disengagement from every creature,
with an entire devotedness to God; and from that
moment I found an unspeakable pleasure in doing
the will of God in all things. I had also a power to
do it, and the constant approbation both of my own
conscience and of God. I had simplicity of heart,
THOMAS OLIVERS, * [9
and a single eye to God at all times and in all places,
with such a fervent zeal for the glory of God and the
good of souls, as swallowed up every other care and
consideration. Above all, I had uninterrupted com-
munion with God, whether sleeping or waking.” It
is scarcely compatible with human weakness, that a
state like this should be permanent; and Mather, in
describing it, after an interval of more than twenty
years, exclaims, “Oh that it were with me as when
the candle of the Lord thus shone upon my head l’’
Yet he had not failed in his course; and, after much
reflection, and the surer aid of prayer, had calmly
satisfied his clear judgement, “that deliverance from
sin does not imply deliverance from human infirmi-
ties; and that it is not inconsistent with temptations
of various kinds.” ” - - - -
THOMAS OLIVERS was born at Tregonan, a village
in Montgomeryshire, in the year 1725. Being left an
* Assuredly my judgement is strong against the use of the word, and
the profession of the state, perfection ; which word, in its English
meaning, does not correspond to the Greek words, TéAguag TeXétorſic,
of which it is pretended to be the translation : full growth, adult, are far
nearer; and as the age of twenty-one, or twenty-five, neither precludes
comparatively greater or less manhood, strength, and power in A and
in B, nor yet an increase of growth, though not in stature, yet in breadth
and muscular firmness, - but rather brings with it a lessening of some
excellences (as agility, fervour, and the like), to make way for the growth
of other powers and qualities, – so is it with the Christian TeXétorſic.
It would be desirable to know what the Syro-Chaldaic word was, which
our Lord used in the precept, “Be ye perfect, even as your Father in
heaven is perfect.” I cannot doubt that it would be found to corre-
spond to our English sense of perfect, not including the secondary, yet
the popular and ordinary, sense of TéNetoc among the Greeks. Like-
wise the very extensive and various application of the verb-substantive
in the Semitic languages, justifies us in interpreting the text as the
proposed ideal, the commended ultimate, yet ever present aim ; and
"the “Be ye,” as = continue striving to be. There is no point at which
you can arrive in this life, in which the command, “Soar upwards
still,” ceases in validity or occasion. How much opposition—may, how
much spiritual pride and vanity—mightWesley have prevented by calling
his first class, mature believers, or adult Christians. –S. T. C. º
C 2
20 THOMAS OLIVERS,
orphan in childhood, with some little property, he
was placed under the care of the husband of his
father's first cousin; which remote relationship comes
under the comprehensive term of a Welsh uncle.
Mr. Tudor, as this person was called, was an eminent
farmer, and did his duty by the boy; giving him not
merely the common school education, but bestowing
more than common pains in imparting religious ac-
quirements. He was taught to sing psalms, as well
as repeat his catechism and his prayers, and to attend
church twice on the Sabbath day. But the parish
happened to be in a state of shocking immorality:
there was one man, in particular, who studied the art
of cursing, and would exemplify the richness of the
Welsh language by compounding twenty or thirty
words into one long and horrid blasphemy. As this
was greatly admired among his profligate companions,
Olivers imitated it, and in time rivalled what he calls
his infernal instructor. “It is horrid to think,” says
he, “how often I have cursed the wind and the
weather the souls of cows and horses yea, the
very heart's blood of stones, trees, gates, and doors l’”
The other parts of his conduct were in the same
spirit; and he obtained the character of being the
worst boy who had been known in that country for
the last thirty years. When he was about three or
four and twenty he left the country, not having half
learned the business to which he had been appren-
ticed. The cause of his departure was the outcry
raised against him for his conduct toward a farmer's
daughter: he was the means, he says, of driving her
almost to an untimely end. It was the sin which lay
heaviest on his mind, both before and after his con-
version; and which, as long as he lived, he remem-
bered with peculiar shame and sorrow.
He removed to Shrewsbury, and there, or in its
neighbourhood, continued a profligate course of life,
THOMAS OLIVERS. 21
till poverty, as well as conscience, stared him in the
face. He said within himself, that he was living a
most wretched life, and that the end must be damna-
tion, unless he repented and forsook his sins. But
how should he acquire strength for this 2 For he
had always gone to church, and he had often prayed
and resolved against his evil practices, and yet his
resolutions were weak as water. So he thought of
“trying what the sacrament would do ;” and borrow-
ing, accordingly, the book called A Week's Prepara-
tion, he went regularly through it, and read daily
upon his knees the meditations and prayers for the
day. On the Sunday he went to the Lord's table,
and spent the following week in going over the second
part of the book, as devoutly as he had done the first.
During this fortnight he “kept tolerably clear of sin;”
but when the course of regimen was over, the effect
ceased: he returned the book with many thanks, and
fell again into his vicious courses. Ere long he was
seized with a violent fever ; and when his life was
despaired of, was restored, as he believed, by the
skill of a journeyman apothecary, who, being a Me-
thodist, attended him for charity. His recovery
brought with it a keen but transitory repentance.
This was at Wrexham. Here he and one of his com-
panions committed an act of arch-villainy, and de-
camped in consequence; Olivers leaving several debts
behind him, (which was generally the case wherever he
went,) and the other running away from his appren-
ticeship. They travelled as far as Bristol; and there
Olivers, learning that Mr. Whitefield was to preach,
resolved to go and hear what he had to say; because he
had often heard of Whitefield, and had sung songs
about him. He went, and was too late. Determined
to be soon enough on the following evening, he went
three hours before the time. When the sermon
began, he did little but look about him; but seeing
C 3
22 THOMAS OILVERS:
tears trickle down the cheeks of some who stood near,
he became more attentive. The text was, “Is not
this a brand plucked out of the fire?”
“When the sermon began,” says this fiery-minded
Welshman, “I was certainly a dreadful enemy to
God, and to all that is good; and one of the most
profligate and abandoned young men living.” Before
it was ended, he became a new creature: a clear view
of redemption was set before him, and his own con-
science gave him clear conviction of its necessity.
The heart, he says, was broken ; nor could he express
the strong desires which he felt for righteousness.
They led him to effectual resolutions: he broke off
all his evil practices, forsook all his wicked compa-
nions, and gave himself up with all his heart to God.
He was now almost incessantly in tears: he was con-
stant in attending worship, wherever it was going on ;
and describes his feelings during a Te Deum at the
gathedral, as if he had done with earth, and was
praising God before his throne. He bought the
Week's Preparation, and read it upon his knees day
and night; and so constant was he in prayer, and in
this position, that his knees became stiff, and he was
actually, for a time, lame in consequence. “So earn-
est was I,” he says, “that I used, by the hour to-
gether, to wrestle with all the might of my body and
soul, till I almost expected to die on the spot. What
with bitter cries, (unheard by any but God and my-
self,) together with torrents of tears, which were
almost continually trickling down my cheeks, my
throat was often dried up, as David says, and my
eyes literally failed, while I waited for God I’” He
used to follow Whitefield in the streets, with such
veneration, that he could “scarce refrain from kissing
the very prints of his feet.” -
Here he would fain have become a member of the
Society;...but when, with much timidity, he made his
THOMAS OLIVERS: 23
wishes known to one of Mr. Whitefield's ministers,
the preacher, for some unexplained reason, thought
proper to discourage him. After a few months,
Olivers removed to Bradford, and there, for a long
time, attended the preaching of the Methodists; and
when the public service was over, and he, with the
uninitiated, was shut out, he would go into the field
at the back of the preaching-house, and listen while
they were singing, and weep bitterly at the thought
that, while God's people were thus praising his name,
he, a poor wretched fugitive, was not permitted to be
among them. And, though he compared himself to
one of the foolish virgins, when they came out he
would walk behind them for the sake of catching a
word of their religious conversation. This conduct,
and his regular attendance, at last attracted notice:
he was asked if it was his wish to join the Society,
and receive a note of admission from the preacher.
His rebuff at Bristol had discouraged him from ap-
plying for what might so easily have been obtained;
and the longing for the admission had produced a
state of mind little different from insanity. Return-
ing home, now that he possessed it, and exhilarated,
or even intoxicated with joy, he says, that as he came
to the bottom of the hill, at the entrance of the town,
a ray of light, resembling the shining of a star, de-
scended through a small opening in the heaven, and
instantaneously shone upon him. In that instant his
burden fell off, and he was so elevated, that he felt as
if he could literally fly away to heaven.” A shooting
star might easily produce this effect upon a man so
* “This,” he says, “ was the more surprising to me, as I had always
been (what I still am) so prejudiced in favour of rational religion as
not to regard visions, or revelations perhaps, so much as I ought to do.
But this light was so clear, and the sweetness and other effects attending
it were so great, that though it happened about twenty-seven years ago,
the several circumstances thereof are as fresh in my remembrance as if
they had happened but yesterday.”
c 4
24 THOMAS OLIVERS.
agitated: for “trifles, light as air,” will act as strongly
upon enthusiasm as upon jealousy; and never was
any man in a state of higher enthusiasm than Olivers
at this time. He says, that in every thought, inten-
tion, or desire, his constant inquiry was, whether it
was to the glory of God; and that if he could not
answer in the affirmative, he dared not indulge it:
that he received his daily food nearly in the same
manner as he did the Sacrament; that he used men-
tal prayer daily and hourly; and for a while his rule
was, in this manner, to employ five minutes out of
every quarter of an hour. He made it part of his
business to stir up the members of the Society to
greater diligences, and, among other things, used to
run over great part of the town to call them up to the
morning preaching. “Upon the whole,” he pursues,
“I truly lived by faith. I saw God in every thing:
the heavens, the earth, and all therein, showed me
something of him; yea, even from a drop of water, a
blade of grass, or a grain of sand, I often received in-
struction.” -
He soon became desirous of “telling the world
what God had done for him ; ” and having communi-
cated this desire to his band-fellows, they kept a day
of solemn fasting on the occasion, and then advised
him to make a trial. Many approved of his gifts:
others were of opinion that he ought to be more esta-
blished, and was too earnest to hold it long. When
he began to preach, his custom was, to get all his
worldly business done, clean himself, and put out his
Sunday's apparel on Saturday night, which sometimes
was not accomplished before midnight: afterwards
he sat up reading, praying, and examining himself,
till one or two in the morning: he rose at four, or
never later than five, and went two miles into the
country, through all weather, to meet a few poor
people, from six till seven. By eight he returned to
THOMAS OLIVERS. 25
Bradford, to hear the preaching; then went seven
miles on foot to preach at one; three or four farther
to hold forth at five; and, after all, had some five or
six more to walk on his return. And as the preach-
ing was more exhausting than the exercise, he was
often so wearied, that he could scarcely get over a
stile, or go up into his chamber when he got home.
“For some time,” says he, “I had frequent doubts
concerning my call. One time, as I was going to
preach at Coleford, I was tempted to believe that I
was running before I was sent. As I went on, the
temptation grew stronger and stronger. At last I
resolved to turn back. I had not gone back above
thirty or forty yards before I began to think, ‘This
may be a temptation of the Devil.” On that I took
out my Testament, and on opening it, the words I
cast my eyes on were, He that putteth his hand to the
plough, and looketh back, is not fit for the kingdom of
Heaven. I could not help looking on this as the voice
of God to me; therefore I took courage to turn about,
and pursue my journey to Coleford.”
When he had been a local preacher about twelve
months, the small-pox broke out in Bradford, and
spread like a pestilence: scarce a single person
escaped ; and six or seven died daily. Olivers was
seized with it the first week in October : heating
things were given him by an ignorant old woman ;
and when some charitable person sent an experienced
physician to visit him, the physician declared that, in
the course of fifty years' practice, he had never seen
so severe a case. He was blind for five weeks. The
room in which he lay was so offensive, that those who
went out of it infected the streets as they past. He
was not able to rise, that his bed might be made,
till New Year's Day; yet, during the whole time, he
never uttered a groan or a single complaint; “thus
evincing,” as he says, “that no suffering is too great
26 * THOMAS OLIVERS.
for the grace of God to enable us to bear with re-
signation and quietness.”
This long illness increased the number of his debts,
which were numerous enough before his conversion.
As soon, therefore, as he had gained sufficient strength
for the journey, he set off for Montgomeryshire, to
receive his little property, which had hitherto re-
mained in Mr. Tudor's hands. The thorough change
which had been effected in so notorious a reprobate
astonished all who knew him: when they saw him
riding far and near, in search of all persons to whom
he was indebted, and faithfully making payment of
what the creditors never expected to recover, they
could not doubt the sincerity of his reformation, and
they ascribed it to the grace of God. Tudor explained
the matter in a way more satisfactory to himself, be-
cause he could comprehend it better: he said to
Olivers, “Thou hast been so wicked that thou hast
seen the Devil.”” Having paid his debts in his own
country, he returned by way of Bristol to Bradford,
discharged, in like manner, his accounts in both these
places, and being now clear of the world, and thereby
delivered from a burden which had cost him, as he
says, many prayers and tears, he set up business with
the small remains of his money, and with a little
credit; but, before he was half settled, Wesley ex-
horted him to free himself from all such engagements,
and make the work of the gospel his sole pursuit.
The advice of the master was a law to the obedient
disciple. Olivers disposed of his effects, wound up
his affairs, and prepared to itinerate in the west of
England. “But I was not able,” he says, “to buy
another horse; and therefore, with my boots on my
legs, my great coat on my back, and my saddle-bags,
* There is a sort of wild philosophy in this popular notion. See
Friend, vol. iii. p. 71. (p. 56. 3d edition.) What we have within, that
only can we see without. Aaiuovac etóel oideic si puff & Sapovosiónc.—
S. T. C. - * -
THOMAS OLIVERS. 27.
with my books and linen, across my shoulder, I set
out in October, 1753.”
Wesley, when he was not the dupe of his own
imagination, could read the characters of men with a
discriminating eye. He was not deceived in Olivers:
the daring disposition, the fiery temper, and the stub-
bornness of this Welshman, were now subdued and
disciplined into an intrepidity, an ardour, and a per-
severance, which were the best requisites for his
vocation. It was not long before one of his congre-
gation at Tiverton presented him with the price of a
horse, as well suited to him as Bucephalus to Alexan-
der; for he was as tough and as indefatigable as his
master. Indeed the beast, as if from sympathy, made
the first advances, by coming up to him in a field
where he was walking with the owner, and laying his
nose upon his shoulder. Pleased with this familiarity,
Olivers stroked the colt, which was then about two
years and a half old; and finding that the farmer
would sell him for five pounds, struck the bargain.
“I have kept him,” he says in his memoirs, “to this
day, which is about twenty-five years, and on him I
have travelled comfortably not less than an hundred
thousand miles.” On one occasion both he and his
horse were exposed to a service of some danger at
Yarmouth. The mob of that town had sworn, that if
any Methodist came there, he should never return
alive. Olivers, however, being then stationed at
Norwich, was resolved to try the experiment, and ac-
cordingly set out with a companion, who was in no
encouraging state of mind, but every now and then
exclaimed upon the road, “I shall be murdered, and
go to hell this day; for I know not the Lord.” With
this unhappy volunteer for martyrdom, Olivers entered
Yarmouth ; and having first attended service in the
church, went into the market-place and gave out a
hymn. The people collected, and listened with toler-
28 THOMAS OLIVERS.
able quietness while he sung and prayed; but, as soon
as he had taken his text, they began so rude a
comment upon the sermon, that one of his friends
prudently pulled him down from his perilous stand,
and retreated with him into a house, in one of those
remarkable streets which are peculiar to Yarmouth,
and are called rows; and which are so narrow, that
two long-armed persons may almost shake hands across
from the windows. Though Olivers had rashly thrust
himself into this adventure, he was prudent enough
now to withdraw from it, and accordingly he sent for
his horse. The mob recognised the animal, followed
him, and filled the row. To wait till they dispersed
might have been inconvenient; and perhaps they
might have attacked the house: so he came forth,
mounted resolutely, and making use of his faithful
roadster as a charger on this emergence, forced the
rabble before him through the row; but the women
on either side stood in the door-ways, some with bowls
of water, others with both hands full of dirt, to salute
him as he passed. Having rode the gauntlet here,
and got into the open street, a tremendous battery of
stones, sticks, apples, turnips, potatoes, and other such
varieties of mob ammunition, was opened upon him
and his poor comrade: the latter clapped spurs to his
horse, and galloped out of town: Olivers proceeded
more calmly; and watching the sticks and stones
which came near, so as to ward them off, and evade
the blow, preserved, as he says, a regular retreat.
Olivers was more likely led into this danger by a
point of honour, than by any natural rashness; for, that
he had acquired a considerable share of sound worldly
prudence, appears from the curious account which he
has given of his deliberation concerning marriage.
Setting out, he says, with a conviction that in this
important concern “young people did not consult
reason and the will of God, so much as their own
THOMAS OLIVERS. 29
foolish inclinations,” he inquired of himself, in the
first place, whether he was called to marry at that
time; and having settled that question in the affirma-
tive, the next inquiry was, what sort of a person ought
he to marry 2 The remainder is too extraordinary and
too characteristic to be given in any words but his
own : — “To this I answered in general, such a one as
Christ would choose for me, suppose he was on earth,
and was to undertake that business. I then asked,
“But what sort of a person have Ireason to believe he
would choose for me?” Here I fixed on the following
properties, and ranged them in the following order:
—The first was grace: I was quite certain that no
preacher of God’s word ought, on any consideration,
to marry one who is not eminently gracious. Secondly,
she ought to have tolerable good common sense: a
Methodist preacher, in particular, who travels into all
parts, and sees such a variety of company, Ought not
to take a fool with him. Thirdly, as I knew the
natural warmth of my own temper, I concluded that
a wise and gracious God would not choose a companion
for ME who would throw oil, but rather water, upon
the fire. Fourthly, I judged that, as I was connected
with a poor people, the will of God was, that whoever
I married should have a small competency, to prevent
her being chargeable to any.” He then proceeds to
say, that, upon the next step in the inquiry, “Who is
the person in whom these properties are found 2’’ he
immediately turned his eyes on Miss Green, “a person
of a good family, and noted through all the north of
England for her extraordinary piety.” He opened
his mind to her, consulted Mr. Wesley, married her;
and having, “in this affair, consulted reason and the
will of God so impartially, had abundant reason to
be thankful ever afterwards.”
The small-pox had shaken his constitution: for eight
years after that dreadful illness his health continually
30 .THOMAS OLIVERS.
declined; and he was thought to be far advanced in
consumption when he was appointed to the York cir-
cuit, where he had to take care of sixty societies, and
ride about three hundred miles every six weeks. Few
persons thought it possible that he could perform the
journey once; but he said, “I am determined to go as
far as I can, and when I can go no farther, I will turn
back.” By the time he had got half round, the ex-
ercise, and perhaps the frequent change of air, restored
in some degree his appetite, and improved his sleep;
and before he reached the end, he had begun to recover
flesh:” but it was twelve years before he felt himself a
hale man. The few fits of dejection with which he
was troubled, seem to have originated more in bodily
weakness than in the temper of his mind. One in-
stance is curious, for the way in which it affected
others. While he was dining one day about noon, a
thought came over him that he was not called to
preach: the food, therefore, with which he was then
served, did not belong to him, and he was a thief and
a robber in eating it. He burst into tears, and could
eat no more; and having to officiate at one o'clock,
went to the preaching-house, weeping all the way. He
went weeping into the pulpit, and wept sorely while
he gave out the hymn, and while he prayed, and
while he preached. A sympathetic emotion spread
through the congregation, which made them receive
the impression like melted wax: many of them “cried
aloud for the disquietness of their souls;” and Olivers,
who, looking as usual for supernatural agency in
every thing, had supposed the doubt of his own quali-
fications to be produced by the tempter, believed now
that the Lord had brought much good out of that
temptation. .
After serving many years as a travelling preacher,
he was fixed in London as the manager of Mr. Wes-
ley's printing; an occupation which did not interfere
THOMAS, OLIVERS. 31
with his preaching, but made him stationary. He
never laboured harder in his life, he says; and finding
it good both for body and soul, he hoped to be fully
employed as long as he lived. Well might this man,
upon reviewing his own eventful history, bless God
for the manifold mercies which he had experienced,
and look upon the Methodists as the instruments of
his deliverance from sin and death.
32
CHAPTER XVIII.
JOHN HAIME. — SAMPSON STANIFORTH. — GEORGE
STORY.
AMONG the memoirs of his more eminent preachers,
which Wesley published in his magazine, as written
by themselves for general edification, is “A short
Account of God's Dealings with Mr. John Haime.”
Satan has so much to do in the narrative, that this is
certainly a misnomer. It is accompanied by his por-
trait, taken when he was seventy years of age. What
organs a craniologist might have detected under his
brown wig, it is impossible to say; but Lavater him-
self would never have discovered, in those mean and
common features, the turbulent mind, and passionate
fancy, which belonged to them. Small inexpressive
eyes, scanty eye-brows, and a short, broad, vulgar
nose, in a face of Ordinary proportions, seem to mark
out a subject who would have been content to travel
a jog-trot along the high-road of mortality, and have
looked for no greater delight than that of smoking
and boozing in the chimney-corner. And yet John
Haime passed his whole life in a continued spiritual
ague.
He was born at Shaftesbury, in 1710, and bred up
to his father's employment, of gardening. Not liking
this, he tried button-making; but no occupation
pleased him : and indeed he appears, by his own
account, to have been in a state little differing from
insanity; or differing from it in this only, that he
had sufficient command of himself not to communi-
cate the miserable imaginations by which he was tor-
JOHN HAIME. 33
mented. He describes himself as undutiful to his
parents, addicted to cursing, swearing, lying, and Sab-
bath-breaking; tempted with blasphemous thoughts,
and perpetually in fear of the Devil, so that he could
find no comfort in working, eating, drinking, or even
in sleeping. “The Devil,” he says, “broke in upon
me with reasonings concerning the being of a God,
till my senses were almost gone. He then so strongly
tempted me to blaspheme, that I could not withstand.
He then told me, ‘Thou art inevitably damned; '
and I readily believed him. This made me sink into
despair, as a stone into the mighty water. I now
began to wander about by the river side, and through
Woods and solitary places; many times looking up to
heaven with a heart ready to break, thinking I had
no part there. I thought every one happy but my-
self, the Devil continually telling me there was no
mercy for me. I cried for help, but found no relief;
So I said, there is no hope, and gave the reins to my
evil desires, not caring which end went foremost, but
giving up myself to wicked company and all their
evil ways. And I was hastening on, when the great
tremendous God met me, as a lion in the way; and his
holy Spirit, whom I had been so long grieving, re-
turned with greater force than ever. I had no rest
day or night. I was afraid to go to bed, lest the
Devil should fetch me away before morning. I was
afraid to shut my eyes, lest I should awake in hell.
I was terrified when asleep; sometimes dreaming
that many devils were in the room ready to take me
away; sometimes that the world was at an end. At
other times I thought I saw the world on fire, and
the wicked left to burn therein, with myself amongst
them ; and when I awoke, my senses were almost
gone. I was often on the point of destroying myself,
and was stopped, I know not how. Then did I weep
VOL. II. * D
34 JOHN HAIME.
bitterly: I moaned like a dove, I chattered like a
swallow.”
He relates yet more violent paroxysms than these :
how, having risen from his knees, upon a sudden im-
pulse that he would not pray, nor be beholden to
God for mercy, he passed the whole night as if his
very body had been in a fire, and hell within him;
thoroughly persuaded that the Devil was in the room,
and fully expecting every moment that he would be
let loose upon him. He says, that in an excess of
blasphemous frenzy, having a stick in his hand, he
threw it towards heaven against God with the utmost
enmity; and, he says, that this act was followed by
what he supposed to be a supernatural appearance:
that immediately he saw, in the clear sky, a creature
like a Swan, but much larger, part black, part brown,
which flew at him, went just over his head, and light-
ing on the ground, at about forty yards' distance,
stood staring upon him. The reader must not sup-
pose this to be mere fiction; what he saw was cer-
tainly a bustard, whose nest was near; but Wesley
publishes the story as Haime wrote it, without any
qualifying word or observation, and doubtless be-
lieved it as it was written. Had this poor man been
a Romanist, he would have found beads and holy
water effectual amulets in such cases: anodynes
would have been the best palliatives in such a dis-
ease; and he might have been cured through the
imagination, when no remedy could be applied to the
understanding.
In this extraordinary state of mind he forsook his
wife and children, and enlisted in the Queen's regi-
ment of dragoons. The life which John Bunyan
wrote of himself, under the title of “Grace abound-
ing to the Chief of Sinners,” now fell into his hands.
He read it with the deepest attention, finding that
the case nearly resembled his own: he thought it the
JOHN HAIME. 35
best book he had ever seen ; and it gave him some
hope of mercy. “In every town where we staid,”
says he, “I went to church; but I did not hear what
I wanted: ‘Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away
the sins of the world!’ Being come to Alnwick, Satan
desired to have me, that he might sift me as wheat.
And the hand of the Lord came upon me with such
weight, as made me roar for very anguish of spirit.
Many times I stopt in the street, afraid to go one step
farther, lest I should step into hell. I now read and
fasted, and went to church, and prayed seven times a
day. One day, as I walked by the Tweed side, I
cried out aloud, being all athirst for God, “Oh that
thou wouldst hear my prayer, and let my cry come
up before thee!' The Lord heard: he sent a gracious
answer: he lifted me up out of the dungeon: he took
away all my sorrow and fear, and filled my soul with
peace and joy. The stream glided sweetly along, and
all nature seemed to rejoice with me.” But left, as
he was, wholly to his own diseased imagination, the
hot and cold fits succeeded each other with little in-
terval of rest. Being sent to London with the camp-
equipage, he went to hear one of Whitefield’spreachers;
and ventured, as he was coming back from the meet-
ing, to tell him the distress of his soul. The preacher,
whose charity seems to have been upon a par with
his wisdom, made answer, “The work of the Devil is
upon you,” and rode away. “It was of the tender
mercies of God,” says poor Haime, “that I did not
put an end to my life.” -
“Yet,” he says, “I thought if I must be damned
myself, I will do what I can that others may be saved;
so I began to reprove open sin wherever I saw or
heard it, and to warn the ungodly, that, if they did
not repent, they would surely perish : but, if I found
any that were weary and heavy laden, I told them
to wait upon the Lord, and he would renew their
D 2
36 JOHN HAIME.
strength; yet I found no strength myself.” He was,
however, lucky enough to hear Charles Wesley, at
Colchester, and to consult him when the service was
over. Wiser than the Calvinistic preacher, Charles
Wesley encouraged him, and bade him go on without
fear, and not be dismayed at any temptation. These
words sank deep, and were felt as a blessing to him
for many years. His regiment was now ordered to
Flanders; and writing from thence to Wesley for
comfort and counsel, he was exhorted to persevere in
his calling. “It is but a little thing,” said Wesley,
“ that man should be against you, while you know
God is on your side. If he give you any companion
in the narrow way, it is well; and it is well if he
does not : but by all means miss no opportunity—
speak and spare not: declare what God has done for
your soul: regard not worldly prudence. Be not
ashamed of Christ, or of his word, or of his work, or
of his servants. Speak the truth in love, even in
the midst of a crooked generation.”—“I did speak,”
he says, “and not spare.” He was in the battle of
Dettingen, and being then in a state of hope, he
describes himself as in the most exalted and enviable
state of mind, while, during seven hours, he stood
the fire of the enemy. He was in a new world, and
his heart was filled with love, peace, and joy more
than tongue could express. His faith, as well as his
courage, was put to the trial, and both were found
proof. - -
Returning into Flanders to take up their winter
quarters, as they marched beside the Maine, they
“saw the dead men lie in the river, and on the banks,
as dung for the earth : for many of the French, at-
tempting to pass the river after the bridge had been
broken, had been drowned, and cast ashore, where
there was none to bury them.” During the winter,
he found two soldiers who agreed to take a room
JOHN HAIME. 37
with him, and meet every night to pray and read
the Scriptures: others soon joined them: a society
was formed; and Methodism was organised in the
army with great success. There were three hundred
in the society, and six preachers beside Haime. As
soon as they were settled in a camp, they built a
tabernacle. He had generally a thousand hearers,
officers as well as common soldiers; and he found
means of hiring others to do his duty, that he might
have more leisure for carrying on the spiritual war.
He frequently walked between twenty and thirty
miles a-day, and preached five times a-day for a week
together. “I had three armies against me,” he says:
“the French army, the wicked English army, and an
army of devils; but I feared them not.” It was not,
indeed, likely that he should go on without some dif-
ficulties, his notions of duty not being always per-
fectly in accordance with the established rules of
military discipline. An officer one day asked him
what he preached; and as Haime mentioned certain
sins which he more particularly denounced, and
which perhaps touched the inquirer a little too
closely, the officer swore at him, and said, that, if it
were in his power, he would have him flogged to
death. “Sir,” replied Haime, “you have a commis-
sion over men; but I have a commission from God
to tell you, you must either repent of your sins, or
perish everlastingly.” His commanding officer asked
him how he came to preach; and being answered,
that the Spirit of God constrained him to call his
fellow-sinners to repentance, told him, that then he
must restrain that spirit. Haime replied, he would
die first. It is to the honour of his officers that they
manifested no serious displeasure at language like
this. His conduct toward one of his comrades might
have drawn upon him much more unpleasant conse-
quences. This was a reprobate fellow, who, finding
D 3
38 JOHN HAIME.
a piece of money, after some search, which he thought
he had lost, threw it on the table, and exclaimed,
“There is my ducat; but no thanks to God, any
more than to the Devil.” Haime wrote down the
words, and brought him to a court-martial. Being
then asked what he had to say against him, he pro-
duced the speech in writing; and the officer having
read it, demanded if he was not ashamed to take ac-
count of such matters. “No, Sir,” replied the en-
thusiast; “if I had heard such words spoken against
His Majesty King George, would not you have counted
me a villain if I had concealed them 7” The only
corporal pain to which officers were subjected by our
martial law, was for this offence. Till the reign of
Queen Anne, they were liable to have their tongues
bored with a hot iron; and, mitigated as the law now
was, it might still have exposed the culprit to serious
punishment, if the officer had not sought to end the
matter as easily as he could ; and therefore, after
telling the soldier that he was worthy of death, by
the laws of God and man, asked the prosecutor what
he wished to have done; giving him thus an oppor-
tunity of atoning, by a little discretion, for the excess
of his zeal. Haime answered, that he only desired to
be parted from him; and thus it terminated. It was
well for him that this man was not of a malicious
temper, or he might easily have made the zealot be
regarded by all his fellows in the odious light of a
persecutor and an informer.
While he was quartered at Bruges, General Pon-
sonby granted him the use of the English church,
and, by help of some good singing, they brought
together a large congregation. In the ensuing spring
the battle of Fontenoy was fought. The Methodist
soldiers were at this time wrought up to a high pitch
of fanaticism. One of them being fully prepossessed
with a belief that he should fall in the action, danced
JOHN HAIME. 39.
for joy before he went into it; exclaiming, that he was
going to rest in the bosom of Jesus. Others, when
mortally wounded, broke out into rapturous expres-
sions of hope and assured triumph, at the near prospect
of dissolution. Haime himself was under the not less
comfortable persuasion that the French had no ball
made which would kill him that day. His horse was
killed under him. “Where is your God now,
Haime?” said an officer, seeing him fall. “Sir, he
is here with me,” replied the soldier, “and he will
bring me out of the battle.” Before Haime could
extricate himself from the horse, which was lying upon
him, a cannon ball took off the officer's head. Three
of his fellow-preachers were killed in this battle, a
fourth went to the hospital, having both arms broken;
the other two began to preach the pleasant doctrine
of Antinomianism, and professed that they were
always happy; in which one of them, at least, was
sincere, being frequently drunk twice a-day. Many
months had not passed before Haime himself relapsed
into his old miserable state. “I was off my watch,”
he says, “and fell by a grievous temptation. It came
as quick as lightning. I knew not if I was in my
senses; but I fell, and the Spirit of God departed
from me. Satan was let loose, and followed me by
day and by night. The agony of my mind weighed
down my body, and threw me into a bloody flux. I
I was carried to a hospital, just dropping into hell:
but the Lord upheld me, with an unseen hand, qui-
vering over the great gulf. Before my fall, my sight
was so strong, that I could look steadfastly on the sun
at noon-day; but after it, I could not look a man in
the face, nor bear to be in any company. The roads,
the hedges, the trees, every thing seemed cursed of
God. Nature appeared void of God, and in the pos-
session of the Devil. The fowls of the air, and the
beasts of the field, all appeared in a league against me.
D 4
40 JOHN HAIME.
I was one day drawn out into the woods, lamenting
my forlorn state, and on a sudden I began to weep
bitterly: from weeping I fell to howling, like a wild
beast, so that the woods resounded ; yet could I say,
notwithstanding my bitter cry, my stroke is heavier
than my groaning; nevertheless, I could not say,
‘Lord, have mercy upon me!’ if I might have pur-
chased heaven thereby. Very frequently Judas was
represented to me as hanging just before me. So
great was the displeasure of God against me, that he,
in great measure, took away the sight of my eyes: I
could not see the sun for more than eight months:
even in the clearest summer day, it always appeared
to me like a mass of blood. At the same time I lost
the use of my knees. I could truly say, ‘Thou hast
sent fire into my bones.’ I was often as hot as if I
was burning to death: many times I looked to see if
my clothes were not on fire. I have gone into a river
to cool myself; but it was all the same; for what
could quench the wrath of his indignation that was
let loose upon me? At other times, in the midst of
summer, I have been so cold, that I knew not how to
bear it: all the clothes I could put on had no effect;
but my flesh shivered, and my very bones quaked.”
As a mere physical case, this would be very curious;
but, as a psychological one, it is of the highest in-
terest. For seven years he continued in this miserable
state, without one comfortable hope, “angry at God,
angry at himself, angry at the Devil,” and fancying
himself possessed with more devils than Mary Mag-
dalene. Only while he was preaching to others (for
he still continued to preach) his distress was a little
abated. “Some may inquire,” says he, “what could
move me to preach while I was in such a forlorn con-
dition? They must ask of God, for I cannot tell.
After some years I attempted again to pray. With
this Satan was not well pleased; for one day, as I was
JOHN HAIME. 41
walking alone, and faintly crying for mercy, suddenly
such a hot blast of brimstone flashed in my face, as
almost took away my breath ; and presently after an
invisible power struck up my heels, and threw me
violently upon my face. One Sunday I went to
church in Holland, when the Lord's supper was to be
administered. I had a great desire to partake of it ;
but the enemy came in like a flood to hinder me,
pouring in temptations of every kind. I resisted him
with my might, till, through the agony of my mind,
the blood gushed out at my mouth and npse. How-
ever, I was enabled to conquer, and to partake of the
blessed elements. I was much distressed with dreams
and visions of the night. I dreamt one night that I
was in hell ; another, that I was on Mount Etna ;
that, on a sudden, it shook and trembled exceedingly;
and that, at last, it split asunder in several places,
and sunk into the burning lake, all but that little
spot on which I stood. Oh how thankful was I for
my preservation 1—I thought that I was worse than
Cain. In rough weather it was often suggested to me,
‘This is on your account See, the earth is cursed for
your sake; and it will be no better till you are in
hell!” Often did I wish that I had never been con-
verted: often, that I had never been born. Yet I
preached every day, and endeavoured to appear open
and free to my brethren. I encouraged them that
were tempted. I thundered out the terrors of the law
against the ungodly. I was often violently tempted
to curse and swear, before and after, and even while I
was preaching. Sometimes, when I was in the midst
of the congregation, I could hardly refrain from
laughing aloud; yea, from uttering all kind of ribaldry
and filthy conversation. Frequently, as I was going
to preach, the Devil has set upon me as a lion, telling
me he would have me just then, so that it has thrown
me into a cold sweat. In this agony I have caught
42 JOHN HAIME.
hold of the Bible, and read, ‘If any man sin, we have an
advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous!”
I have said to the enemy, ‘This is the word of God,
and thou canst not deny it !” Thereat he would be
like a man that shrunk back from the thrust of a
sword. But he would be at me again. I again met
him in the same way; till at last, blessed be God! he
fled from me. And even in the midst of his sharpest
assaults, God gave me just strength enough to bear
them. When he has strongly suggested, just as I was
going to preach, “I will have thee at last,' I have an-
swered, (sometimes with too much anger,) “I will
have another out of thy hand first l’ And many, while
I was myself in the deep, were truly convinced and
converted to God.” -
Having returned to England, and obtained his dis-
charge from the army, he was admitted by Mr. Wesley
as a travelling preacher. This, however, did not
deliver him from his miserable disease of mind: he
could neither be satisfied with preaching nor with-
out it; wherever he went he was not able to remain,
but was continually wandering to and fro, seeking rest,
but finding none. “I thought,” he says, “if David or
Peter had been living, they would have pitied me.”
Wesley, after a while, took him as a companion in one
of his rounds, knowing his state of mind, and knowing
how to bear with it, and to manage it. “It was good
for him,” he said, “to be in the fiery furnace: he
should be purified therein, but not consumed.” Year
after year he continued in this extraordinary state,
till, in the year 1766, he was persuaded by Mr.
Wesley to go and dwell with a person at St. Ives, in
Cornwall, who wanted a worn-out preacher to live
with him, take care of his family, and pray with him
morning and evening. Here he was, if possible, ten
times worse than before; and it seemed to him, that,
unless he got some relief, he must die in despair.
JOHN HAIME. º 43
“One day,” he says, “I retired into the hall, fell on
my face, and cried for mercy; but got no answer. I
got up, and walked up and down the room, wringing
my hands, and crying like to break my heart; beg-
ging of God, for Christ's sake, if there was any mercy
for me, to help me; and, blessed be his name, all on a
sudden, I found such a change through my soul and
body, as is past description. I was afraid I should
alarm the whole house with the expressions of my joy.
I had a full witness from the Spirit of God that I
should not find that bondage any more. Glory be to
God for all his mercy!” Twenty years the disease
had continued upon him ; and it now left him, by his
own account, as instantaneously as it came : and his
account is credible; for he acknowledges that he had
not the same faith as in his former state: the age of
rapture was over, and the fierceness of his disposition
was spent, though its restlessness was unabated.
Though his chaplainship with Mr. Hoskins had every
thing which could render such a situation comfortable,
he could not be at ease till he was again in motion,
and had resumed his itinerant labours. He lived till
the great age of seventy-eight, and died of a fever,
which was more than twelve months consuming him,
and which wore him to the bone before he went to
rest. But though his latter days were pain, they
were not sorrow. “He preached as long as he was
able to speak, and longer than he could stand without
support.” Some of his last words were, “O Lord, in
thee have I trusted, and have not been confounded;”
and he expired in full confidence that a convoy of
angels were ready to conduct his soul to the paradise
of God.* -
* In this sorrowful case, it is difficult not to think, and even to hope,
that it is that of a patient so erroneously treated from the beginning as
to make the late and final recovery a work of Divine mercy, in spite of
the physician and his injudicious medicines ; which yet, in a different
44 SAMPSON STANIFORTH.
Whatever may be thought of John Haime's qualifi-
cations for preaching the gospel, there was one man,
at least, who had reason to bless him as his greatest
earthly benefactor: this was Sampson Staniforth,
who served at the same time as a private in the army.
He was the son of a cutler at Sheffield, and grew up
without any moral or religious instruction, so that he
had “no fear of God before his eyes, no thought of
his providence, of his saving mercy, nor indeed of his
having any thing to do with the world.” Why he
was born into the world, what was his business in it,
or where he was to go when this life was over, were
considerations, he says, which never entered into his
mind; and he grew up in a course of brutal vices,
being as utterly without God in the world as the
beasts that perish. He describes himself as not only
fierce and passionate, but also sullen and malicious,
without any feeling of humanity; and disposed, instead
of weeping with those who wept, to rejoice in their
sufferings. This hopeful subject enlisted as a soldier
at the age of nineteen, in spite of the tears and en-
treaties of his mother; and, after some hair-breadth
escapes from situations into which he was led by his
own rashness and profligacy, he joined the army in
Germany a few days after the battle of Dettingen.
While they were encamped at Worms, orders were
read at the head of every regiment, that no soldier
should go above a mile from the camp on pain of
death, which was to be executed immediately, without
the forms of a court-martial. This did not deter
case, might have been right ones. The Moravian doctrine, especially
that of imputed righteousness, would have suited this case. Haime
should have been led to fix his whole attention, and all the ardour of
his seeking, on that which he was sure to find ; and there, where he was
sure to find it — the righteousness of Christ in Christ — the infinite
love and loveliness of the redeeming God, the Son of Man ; in short,
he should have been drawn out of himself, or rather, out of the morbid
acts and products which he took for himself. — S. T. C.
SAMPSON STANIFORTH. 45
Staniforth from straggling; and he was drinking
with some of his comrades in a small town to the left
of the camp, when a captain, with a guard of horse,
came to take them up, being appointed to seize all he
could find out of the lines, and hang up the first man
without delay. The guard entered the town and
shut the gates. He saw them in time, ran to a wicket
in the great gate, which was only upon the latch, and
before the gate itself could be opened to let the horse-
men follow him, got into the vineyards, and there
concealed himself by lying down. He had a still
narrower escape not long afterwards: many com:
plaints had been made of the marauders in the English
army; and it was proclaimed that the guard would
be out every night, to hang up the first offenders who
were taken. This fellow listened to the proclamation,
and set out, as soon as the Officer who read it had
turned away, upon a plundering party, with two of
his companions. They stole four bullocks, and were
met by an officer driving them to the camp. Staniforth
said they had bought them, and the excuse passed.
On the next day the owners came to the camp to
make their complaint; and three of the beasts, which
had been sold, but not slaughtered, were identified.
Orders were, of course, given to arrest the thieves.
That very morning Staniforth had been sent to some
distance on an out-party, and thus Providence again
preserved him from a shameful death.
There was in the same company with him a native
of Barnard Castle, by name Mark Bond, a man of a
melancholy but religious disposition, who had enlisted
in the hope of being killed. “His ways,” says Stani-
forth, “were not like those of other men : out of his
little pay he saved money to send to his friends. We
could never get him to drink with us; but he was
always full of sorrow: he read much, and was much
in private prayer.” The state of his mind arose from
46 SAMPSON STANIFORTH.
having uttered blasphemy when he was a little boy,
and the thought of this kept him in a constant state
of wretchedness and despair. A Romanist might
here observe, that a distressing case like this could
not have occurred in one of his persuasion; and one
who knows that the practice of confession brings with
it evils tenfold greater than those which it palliates,
may be allowed to regret, that in our Church there
should be so little intercourse between the pastor and
the people. This poor man might have continued his
whole life in misery, if John Haime had not taken to
preaching in the army: he went to hear him, and
found what he wanted: his peace of mind was restored;
and wishing that others should partake in the hap-
piness which he experienced, he could think of no one
who stood more in need of the same spiritual medicine
than his comrade Staniforth. He, as might be ex-
pected, first wondered at his conversation, and after-
wards mocked at it. Bond, however, was not thus to
be discouraged; he met him one day when he was in
distress, having neither food, money, nor credit, and
asked him to go and hear the preaching. Staniforth
made answer, “You had better give me something to
eat and drink, for I am both hungry and dry.” Bond
did as he was requested; took him to a sutler's, and
treated him, and persuaded him afterwards, reluctant
as he was, to accompany him to the preaching. In-
coherent and rhapsodical as such preaching would be,
it was better suited to such auditors than any thing
more temperate would have been : it was level to
their capacities; and the passionate sincerity with
which it was delivered found the readiest way to their
feelings. Staniforth, who went with great unwilling-
ness, and who was apparently in no ways prepared
for such an effect, was, by that one sermon, suddenly
and effectually reclaimed from a state of habitual
brutality and vice. He returned to his tent full of
SAMPSON STANIE ORTH. 47
sorrow, thoroughly convinced of his miserable state,
and “seeing all his sins stand in battle-array against
him.” The next day he went early to the place of
meeting: some soldiers were reading there, some
singing hymns, and others were at prayer. One
came up to him, and after inquiring how long he had
attended the preachers, said to him, “Let us go to
prayer;” and Staniforth was obliged to confess that
he could not pray, for he had never prayed in his
life, neither had he ever read in any devotional book.
Bond had a piece of an old Bible, and gave it him,
saying, “I can do better without it than you.” This
was a true friend. He found that Staniforth was in
debt; and telling him that it became Christians to be
first just, and then charitable, said, “We will put
both our pays together, and live as hard as we can,
and what we spare will pay the debt.” Such practice
must have come strongly in aid of the preaching.
From that time Staniforth shook off all his evil
courses: though till then an habitual swearer, he
never afterwards swore an oath; though addicted to
drinking, he never was intoxicated again ; though a
gambler from his youth up, he left off gaming; and
having so often risked his neck for the sake of plunder,
he would not now gather an apple or a bunch of
grapes. Methodism had wrought in him a great and
salutary work; but it taught him to expect another
change not less palpable to himself: he was in bitter
distress under the weight of his sins, and he was
taught to look for a full and entire sense of deliver-
ance from the burden. His own efforts were not
wanting to bring on this spiritual crisis, and after
some months he was successful. The account which
he gives must be explained by supposing that strong
passion made the impression, of what was either a
sleeping or a waking dream, strong as reality; —a far
more probable solution than would be afforded by
48 SAMPSON STANLEORTH.
ascribing it to any wilful exaggeration or deliberate
falsehood. “From twelve at night till two,” he says,
“it was my turn to stand sentinel at a dangerous
post. I had a fellow-sentinel; but I desired him to go
away, which he willingly did. As soon as I was
alone, I knelt down, and determined not to rise, but
to continue crying and wrestling with God, till he
had mercy on me. How long I was in that agony I
cannot tell; but, as I looked up to heaven, I saw the
clouds open exceeding bright, and I saw Jesus hang-
ing on the cross. At the same moment these words
were applied to my heart, ‘Thy sins are forgiven
thee.' All guilt was gone, and my soul was filled
with unutterable peace: the fear of death and hell
was vanished away. I was filled with wonder and
astonishment. I closed my eyes, but the impression
was still the same ; and for about ten weeks, while I
was awake, let me be where I would, the same appear-
ance was still before my eyes, and the same impression
upon my heart, ‘Thy sins are forgiven thee.” It
may be believed that Staniforth felt what he describes,
and imagined what he appeared to see; but to publish
such an account as Wesley did, without one qualify-
ing remark, is obviously to encourage wild and dan-
gerous enthusiasm. . . ſº
Staniforth's mother had bought him off once when
he enlisted, and sent him from time to time money,
and such things as he wanted and she could provide
for him. He now wrote her a long letter, asking
pardon of her and his father for all his disobedience;
telling them that God, for Christ's sake, had forgiven
him his sins, and desiring her not to send him any
more supplies, which he knew must straiten her, and
which he no longer wanted, for he had learned to be
contented with his pay. This letter they could not
very well understand; it was handed about till it got
into the hands of a dissenting minister, and of one of
SAMPSON STANIFORTH. 49
the leading Methodists at Sheffield: the latter sent
Staniforth a “comfortable letter” and a hymn-book;
the former a letter also, and a Bible, which was more
precious to him than gold; as was a prayer-book also,
which his mother sent him. He, as well as Haime,
came safe out of the battle of Fontenoy, where Bond
was twice preserved in an extraordinary manner, one
musket-ball having struck some money in one of his
pockets, and another having been repelled by a knife.
Soon afterwards he was drafted into the artillery, and
ordered back to England on account of the rebellion
in 1745. He was now quartered at Deptford, and
from thence was able, twice a-week, to attend upon
Wesley's preaching at the Foundry, or at West-street
Chapel. At Deptford also there was a meeting, and
there he found a woman who, being of the same
society, was willing to take him for a husband if he
were out of the army. On his part, the match appears
to have been a good one as to worldly matters: she
was persuaded to marry him before his discharge was
obtained; and, on his wedding-day, he was ordered to
embark immediately for Holland.
The army which he joined in Holland was under
the command of Prince Charles of Lorrain; and as
they soon came within sight of the enemy, Staniforth
had too much spirit to apply for his discharge, “lest
he should seem afraid to fight, and so bring a disgrace
upon the Gospel.” Near Maestricht, two English re-
giments, of which his was one, with some Hanoverians
and Dutch, in all about 12,000 men, being advanced
in front of the army, had a sharp action. The Prince,
according to this account, forgot to send them orders
to retreat, “being busy with his cups and his ladies;”
and it appears, indeed, as he says, that many brave
lives were vilely thrown away that day by his gross
misconduct. Among them was poor Bond: a ball
went through his leg, and he fell at Staniforth's feet.
VOL. II. E
50 SAMIPSON STANIFORTH.
“I and another,” says he, “took him in our arms,
and carried him out of the ranks, while he was ex-
horting me to stand fast in the Lord. We laid him
down, took our leave of him, and fell into our ranks
again.” In their farther retreat, Staniforth again met
with him, when he had received another ball through
his thigh, and the French pressed upon them at that
time so closely, that he was compelled to leave him,
thus mortally wounded, “but with his heart full of
love, and his eyes full of Heaven.”—“There,” says
he, “fell a great Christian, a good soldier, and a faith-
ful friend.” . .
When the army went into winter quarters, Stani-
forth obtained his discharge for fifteen guineas, which
his wife remitted him. He now settled at Deptford,
became a leading man among the Methodists there,
and finally a preacher in his own neighbourhood, and
in and about London. And however little it was to be
expected from the early part of his life, and the school
in which he was trained, his life was honourable to him-
self, and beneficial to others. “I made it a rule,” he
says, “from the beginning, to bear my own expenses:
this cost me ten or twelve pounds a year; and I bless
God I can bear it. Besides visiting the class and band,
and visiting the sick, I preach five or six times in the
week. And the Lord gives me to rejoice in that I
can still say, these hands have ministered to my ne-
cessities.” His preaching was so well liked, that he
was more than once invited to leave the Connection,
and take care of a separate congregation, with a
salary of forty or fifty pounds a year: but he was
attached to Methodism; he saw that it was much in-
jured by such separations; he was not weary of his
labours; and as to pecuniary considerations, they had
no weight with him. The course of his life, and the
happy state of his mind, are thus described by himself:
“I pray with my wife before I go out in the morning,
GEORGE STORY. 51.
and at breakfast-time with my family and all who are
in the house. The former part of the day I spend in
my business; my spare hours in reading and private
exercise. Most evenings I preach, so that I am sel-
dom at home before nine o'clock; but, though I am so
much out at nights, and generally alone, God keeps
me both from evil men and evil spirits: and many
times I am as fresh when I come in at night, as I was
when I went out in the morning. I conclude the day
in reading the Scriptures, and in praying with my
family. I am now in the sixty-third year of my age,
and, glory be to God, I am not weary of well-doing. I
find my desires after God stronger than ever; my un-
derstanding is more clear in the things of God; and
my heart is united more than ever both to God and
his people. I know their religion and mine is the
gift of God through Christ, and the work of God by
his Spirit: it is revealed in Scripture, and is received
and retained by faith, in the use of all gospel ordi-
nances. It consists in an entire deadness to the world
and to our own will; and an entire devotedness of our
souls, bodies, time, and substance to God, through
Christ Jesus. In other words, it is the loving the
Lord our God with all our hearts, and all mankind
for God's sake. This arises from a knowledge of
his love to us: We love him, because we know he first
loved us ; a sense of which is shed abroad in our hearts
by the Holy Ghost, that is given to us. From the
little hereof that I have experienced, I know, he that
experiences this religion is a happy man.”
No man found his way into the Methodist connec-
tion in a quieter manner, nor brought with him a
finer and more reasonable mind, than GEORGE STORY,
a native of Harthill, in the West Riding of Yorkshire.
The circumstances of his boyhood were favourable to
his disposition: his parents taught him early the fear
E 2
52 GEORGE STORY.
of the Lord; and though their instructions, he says,
were tedious and irksome, yet the impression which
they made was never lost, and often recurred when
he was alone, or in places of temptation. The minister
of the parish also was a pious and venerable man: the
solemnity with which he performed his duty impressed
the boy with an awful sense of the Divine presence;
and, when he listened to the burial-service, he had a
distant prospect of judgement and eternity. Thun-
der and lightning filled him with a solemn delight,
as a manifestation of the majesty and power of the
Almighty. His heart, as well as his imagination, was
open to all wholesome influences; and having one day
killed a young bird by throwing a stone at it, grief
and remorse for the pain which he had inflicted kept
him waking during several nights; and tears and
prayers to God for pardon were the only means
wherein he could find relief. After a decent school
education, he was placed with a country bookseller.
Here, being surrounded with books, he read with in-
satiable and indiscriminate avidity: histories, novels,
plays, and romances, were perused by dozens. He
studied short-hand, and improved the knowledge which
he had learned at school of geometry and trigonome-
try; picked up something of geography, astronomy,
botany, anatomy, and other branches of physical sci-
ence; and tired himself with the Statutes at Large.
The lives of the heathen philosophers delighted him
so much, that at one time he resolved to take them
for his models; and Thomas Taylor or John Fran-
sham would then have found him in a fit state to
have received the mysteries of Paganism. He fre-
quently read till eleven at night, and began again at
four or five in the morning; and he always had a book
before him while he was at his meals.
From the shop he entered the printing-office, and,
applying himself sedulously to the business, learned
GEORGE STORY. 53.
to despatch it with much regularity, so that he had
plenty of time both for study and recreation. One
summer he was an angler, the next he was a florist,
and cultivated auriculas and polyanthuses. These
pursuits soon became insipid. He tried cards, and
found them only implements for unprofitably con-
suming time; and, when led into drinking, in the
midst of that folly he saw its madness, and turned
from it with abhorrence. He hoped that horse-racing
might be found a more manly and rational amuse-
ment; so he attended the races at Doncaster, with the
most flattering expectations of the happiness he should
find that week. “The first day,” says he, “vanished
away without any satisfaction: the second was still
worse. As I passed through the company, dejected
and disappointed, it occurred to my mind, What is
all this immense multitude assembled here for P To
See a few horses gallop two or three times round the
course as if the Devil were both in them and their
riders! Certainly, we are all mad, we are fit for Bed-
lam, if we imagine that the Almighty made us for no
other purpose but to seek happiness in such senseless
amusements. I was ashamed and confounded, and
determined never to be seen there any more.” -
At this time he had risen to the management of
the printing-office: he had to publish a weekly news-
paper, select the paragraphs from other papers, pre-
pare the advertisements, correct the press, and super-
intend the journeymen and apprentices; an employ-
ment, he says, which flattered his vanity, increased
his native pride, and consequently led him farther
from God. For now, in the course of his desultory
reading, he fell in with some of those pernicious
writers who have employed themselves in Sapping
the foundations of human happiness. “I read and
reasoned,” says he, “till the Bible grew not only dull,
but, I thought, full of contradictions. I staggered
E 3
54 GEORGE STORY.
first at the divinity of Christ, and at length gave up
the Bible altogether, and sunk into Fatalism and
Deism.” In this state of mind, and at the age of
twenty, he went to London, in full hope of there
finding the happiness of which he was in search.
But new things soon became old : they palled upon
him; and, instead of happiness, an unaccountable
anguish of spirit followed whenever his mind sunk
back upon itself. He would gladly have gone abroad,
for the sake of continual change, but it was a time of
war. He resolved to try if religion would afford him
relief, and went to several places of worship; “but
even this,” says he, “was in vain; there was some-
thing dull and disagreeable wherever I turned my
eyes, and I knew not that the malady was in myself.
At length I found Mr. Whitefield's chapel, in Totten-
ham-court-road, and was agreeably entertained with
his manner of preaching: his discourses were so en-
gaging, that, when I retired to my lodgings, I wrote
down the substance of them in my journal, and fre-
quently read them over with pleasure; but still
nothing reached my case, nor had I any light into
the state of my soul. Meantime, on the week nights,
I went to the theatres; nor could I discern any dif-
ference between Mr. Whitefield's preaching, and seeing
a good tragedy.”
Weary of every thing, and all places being alike to
him, he yielded to the persuasion of his friends, re-
turned into the country, and thinking himself too
young and inexperienced to enter into business for
himself, as they would fain have had him do, under-
took, once more, the management of a printing-office.
He wanted for nothing, he had more money than he
knew what to do with ; yet, in his own words, he was
as wretched as he could live, without knowing either
the cause of this misery, or any way to escape from
it. For some years he had attempted to regulate his
GEORGE | STORY. 55
conduct according to reason; but even at that bar he
stood condemned. His temper was passionate; he
struggled against this, having thus far profited by
the lessons of the Stoics; and greatly was he pleased
when he obtained a victory over his own anger; but,
upon sudden temptation, all his resolutions were “as
a thread of flax before the fire.” He mixed with
jovial company, and endeavoured to catch their spirit;
but, in the midst of levity, there was a weight and
hollowness within him: experience taught him that
this laughter was madness; and when he returned to
sober thoughts, he found into how deep a melancholy
a simulated mirth subsides. He wandered to different
places of worship, and found matter of disquiet at all;
at length he forsook them all, and shut himself up on
Sundays, or went into the solitude of a neighbouring
wood. “Here,” says he, “I considered, with the
closest attention I was able, the arguments for and
against Deism. I would gladly have given credit to
the Christian revelation, but could not. My reason
leaned on the wrong side, and involved me in endless
perplexities. I likewise endeavoured to fortify my-
self with stronger arguments and firmer resolutions
against my evil tempers; for, since I could not be a
Christian, I wished, however, to be a good moral
Heathen. Internal anguish frequently compelled me
to supplicate the Divine Being for mercy and truth.
I seldom gave over till my heart was melted, and I
felt something of God's presence; but I retained those
gracious impressions only for a short time.”
It so happened that he was employed to abridge
and print the life of Eugene Aram, a remarkable
man, who was executed for a case of murder, in a
strange manner brought to light long after the com-
mission of the crime. The account of this person's
extraordinary attainments kindled Story with emula-
tion, and he had determined to take as much pains
E 4
56 GEORGE STORY.
himself in the acquirement of knowledge, when some
thoughts fastened upon his mind, and broke in pieces
all his schemes. “The wisdom of this world,” said
he to himself, “is foolishness with God. What did
this man's wisdom profit him? It did not save him
from being a thief and a murderer; — no, nor from
attempting his own life. True wisdom is foolishness
with men. He that will be wise, must first become a
fool, that he may be wise. I was like a man awakened
out of sleep,” he continues: “I was astonished; I
felt myself wrong; I was conscious I had been pur-
suing a vain shadow, and that God only could direct
me into the right path. I therefore applied to him
with earnest importunity, entreating him to show me
the true way to happiness, which I was determined to
follow, however difficult or dangerous.” Just at this
time Methodism began to flourish in his native vil-
lage: his mother joined the Society, and sent him a
message, entreating him to converse with persons of
this description. To gratify her, being an obedient
son, he called accordingly at a Methodist’s house, and
the persons who were assembled there went to prayer
with him, and for him, a considerable time. The
result was, as might be expected, – he looked upon
them as well-meaning ignorant people, and thought
no more about the matter. After a few days they
desired he would come again; and he, considering
that it was his mother's request, went without hesi-
tation, though perhaps not very desirous of being
prayed for a second time. On this occasion, how-
ever, argument was tried; and he disputed with
them for some hours, till they were fairly wearied,
without having produced the slightest impression
upon him. To attack him on the side of his reason,
was not indeed the way by which such reasoners
were likely to prevail; such a proceeding would
serve only to stimulate his vanity, and provoke his
GEORGE STORY. 57
pride; and accordingly he was about to withdraw,
not a little elevated with the triumph which he had
obtained, when a woman of the company desired to
ask him a few questions. The first was, “Are you
happy P” His countenance instantly fell, and he
honestly answered, “No.”—“Are you not desirous
of finding happiness?” she pursued. He replied,
that he was desirous of obtaining it, on any terms,
and had long sought for it in every way, but in vain.
She then told him, that if he sought the Lord with
all his heart, he would certainly find in him that
peace and pleasure which the world could not bestow.
The right string had now been touched: every word
sunk deep into his mind; and he says, that from that
moment he never lost his resolution of being truly
devoted to God.
The books which had misled him he cast into the
fire; and willing as he now was to be led astray in a
different direction, by his new associates, his happy
disposition preserved him. Not having the horrible
fears, and terrors, and agonies which others declared
they had experienced in the new-birth, and of which
exhibitions were frequently occurring, he endeavoured
to bring himself into the same state, but never could
succeed in inducing these throes of spiritual labour.
Yet thinking it a necessary part of the process of
regeneration, and not feeling that consciousness of
sanctification which his fellows professed, doubts
came upon him thick and thronging. Sometimes he
fell back toward his old scepticism: sometimes in-
clined to the miserable notion of predestination;
plunging, as he himself expresses it, into the black-
ness of darkness. He found at length the folly of
reasoning himself into despair, and the unreasonable-
ness of expecting a miraculous manifestation in his
own bodily feelings; and he learned, in the true path
of Christian humility, to turn from all presumptuous
58 GEORGE STORY.
reasonings, and, staying his mind upon God, to repose
and trust in him with a child-like entireness of belief
and love. This was at first mortifying to his proud
reason and vain imagination; but it brought with it,
at length, “an ever-permanent peace, which kept his
heart in the knowledge and love of God; ” not the
overflowing joys which he expected, and had been
taught to expect, by enthusiastic men ; but that
peace which God himself hath assured to all who
seek him in humility and truth, and which passeth
all understanding. There is not, in the whole hagio-
graphy of Methodism, a more interesting or more
remarkable case than this: — living among the most
enthusiastic Methodists, enrolled among them, and
acting and preaching with them for more than fifty
years, George Story never became an enthusiast: his
nature seems not to have been susceptible of the con-
tagion.*
* The instance of George Story, and of many others, proves that
such joys, such sensible deliverances, such sudden openings of a before
unknown and glorious state of being, are no essential, nor even regular
marks, accompaniments, or results of a true conversion. It may be
admitted too, that in such extraordinary depths and heights, the body
and nervous system may co-operate — that the animal life may furnish
the matter of the sensations, and the copula connecting the soul and
the life may be the seat of these experiences. But does it follow that
they all originate in fanaticism, and are mere delusions P-that such
men as Story were alone in their sober senses; though one proof of
their sobriety was, that they did not doubt the different experiences of
other Christians, whose lives and tempers proved the reality of their
perávota at least P – and that Haliburton, nay, that Paul, were mad
or delirious P For whatever may be said of the circumstances of St.
Paul's conversion, yet his rapture, in which he knew not whether he
was taken up into the state of glory, or that state made present to him,
cannot, in Southey's sense of the word, be called a miracle.
- August, 1825.
I do not recollect the date of the above note : but I take no shame
to myself for the mood in which it must have been written For who,
that has a heart at all, has a heart of such strength as not at times to
sink down in weariness, and crave after a resting-place — a sensation of
present being, in lieu of the act and conflict of faith ? On this account
I am less disposed to think meanly of Wesley's judgement for his first
belief in the reality of these assurances, and their antecedent birth-
GEORGE STORY. 5
9
throes, while he held them to be the constant signs and proper conse-
quents of regeneration in each and every individual on the reception of
a new and divine life, as the nature or supposition of his spiritual
“I, " than to suspect his sincerity with his own heart, for professing
(and, no doubt, striving,) to retain his belief of the spirituality and
divine origin of these experiences in his first converts, after he had
abandoned, may reprobated, the supposition of their necessity and uni-
versality. This will appear evident on the first reflection. If the corpo-
real sensibility is as insusceptible of any excitement immediately from
the presence of the spiritual agent, as brass or iron is of vital stimuli,
the negative must be universally true: but if not, if there is nothing
in the transcendences of the spiritual life and power that prevents the
bodily organs from partaking in their operation, it is to the last degree
improbable that so stupendous an agency should take place without
affecting the body. It has not been noticed, I think, that this doctrine
of sensational assurances is closely linked with Wesley's pernicious doc-
trine of entire deliverance from sin. If the latter were true, the radical.
life of the body, and the body itself, in all its essential forms, must have
been acted on by the infused spiritual life, and consequently have re-
acted: therefore the former must likewise be true and universal. And
if the former were true, namely, that the higher and mightier power
did actually excite and act on the lower, it must have overcome it, and
either extruded or assimilated it. For such is of necessity the result,
where a weaker and a stronger power meet, both being ejusdem generis.
It follows, therefore, that the belief of these sensible assurances is not a
mere harmless fancy; but partakes of the mischievous nature of Wesley’s
heresy of sinless perfection in this life, in as far as the one implies
or presupposes the other, — S. T. C.
60
CHAPTER XIX.
PROVISION FOR THE LAY PREACHERS AND THEIR FAMILIES.
— KINGSWOOD SCHOOL. — THE CONFERENCE.
AT first there was no provision made for the lay
preachers. The enthusiasts who offered themselves
to the work literally took no thought for the morrow,
what they should eat, nor what they should drink,
nor yet for the body what they should put on. They
trusted in Him who feedeth the fowls of the air, and
who sent his ravens to Elijah in the wilderness. “He
who had a staff,” says one of these first itinerants,
“might take one; he who had none might go without.”
They were lodged and fed by some of the society
wherever they went ; and when they wanted clothes,
if they were not supplied by individual friends, they
represented their necessity to the stewards. St.
Francis and his followers did not commit themselves
with more confidence to the care of Providence, nor
with a more entire disregard of all human means.
But the Friars Minorite were marked by their habit
for privileged, as well as peculiar persons; and as
they professed poverty, the poorer and the more
miserable their appearance, the greater was the re-
spect which they obtained from the people. In Eng-
land, rags were no recommendation; and it was
found a great inconvenience that the popularitinerants
should be clothed in the best apparel, while the use-
fulness of their fellows, who were equally devoted to
the cause, was lessened by the shabbiness of their
appearance. To remedy this evil, it was at length
agreed that every circuit should allow its preacher
PROVISION FOR THE LAY PREACHERS, ETC. 61
three pounds per quarter, to provide himself with
clothing and books. Not long after this arrangement
had been made, Mr. Wesley proposed that Mather
should go with him into Ireland on one of his preach-
ing expeditions, and promised that his wife should be
supported during his absence. Mather cheerfully
consented ; but when he came to talk with his friends
upon the subject, they cautioned him to beware how
he relied for his wife's support upon a mere promise
of this kind; for, when Mr. Wesley was gone, the
matter would rest with the stewards. Upon this
Mather thought it necessary to talk with the stewards
himself: they asked him how much would be sufficient
for his wife; and when he said four shillings a week,
they thought it more than could be afforded; and
Mather therefore refused to undertake the journey.
However, in the course of the ensuing year, the
necessity of making some provision for the wives of
the itinerants was clearly perceived, and the reason-
ableness of Mather's demand was acknowledged. He
was called upon to travel accordingly; and from that
time the stated allowance was continued for very
many years at the sum which he had fixed. A farther
allowance was made, of twenty shillings a quarter, for
every child; and when a preacher was at home, the
wife was entitled to eighteen-pence a day for his
board ; the computation being fourpence for break-
fast, sixpence for dinner, and fourpence each for tea
and supper; with the condition, that whenever he
was invited out, a deduction was to be made for the
meal.
But farther relief was still necessary for those mar-
ried preachers who gave themselves up wholly to the
service of Methodism. Their boys, when they grew
too big to be under the mother's direction, were in a
worse state than other children, and were exposed to
a thousand temptations, having no father to control
62 - * KINGSWOOD SCHOOL.
and instruct them. “Was it fit,” said Wesley, “that
the children of those who leave wife, home, and all
that is dear, to save souls from death, should want
what is needful either for soul or body ? Ought not
the society to supply what the parent could not,
because of his labours in the Gospel? The preacher,
eased of this weight, would go on the more cheerfully,
and perhaps many of these children might, in time,
fill up the place of those who should have rested from
their labours.” The obvious remedy was to found a
school for the sons of the preachers; and thinking
that the wealthier members of the society would
rejoice if an opportunity were given them to separate
their children from the contagion of the world, he
seems to have hoped that the expenses of the eleemo-
synary part of the institution might in great measure
be defrayed by their means. - -
Some tracts upon education had led him to consider
the defects of English schools: the mode of teaching,
defective as that is, he did not regard; it was the
moral discipline which fixed his attention; and in
founding a seminary for his own people, whose steady
increase he now contemplated as no longer doubtful,
he resolved to provide, as far as possible, against all
the evils of the existing institutions. The first point
was to find a situation not too far from a great town,
which would be very inconvenient for so large a
household as he was about to establish, nor yet too
near, and much less in it. For in towns the boys,
whenever they went abroad, would have too many
things to engage their thoughts, which ought, he said,
to be diverted as little as possible from the objects of
their learning; and they would have too many other
children round about them, some of whom they were
liable to meet every day, whose example would neither
forward them in learning nor in religion. He chose
a spot, three miles from Bristol, in the middle of
KINGSWOOD SCHOOL. 63
Kingswood, on the side of a small hill, sloping to the
west, sheltered from the east and north, and affording
room for large gardens. At that time it was quite
private and remote from all highways: now the
turnpike road passes close beside it, and it is sur-
rounded by a filthy population. He built the house
of a size to contain fifty children, besides masters and
servants, reserving one room and a little study for
his own use.
In looking for masters he had the advantage of
being acquainted with every part of the nation: and
yet he found it no easy thing to procure such as
he desired, -men of competent acquirements, “who
were truly devoted to God, who sought nothing on
earth, neither pleasure, nor ease, nor profit, nor the
praise of men.” The first rule respecting scholars
was, that no child should be admitted after he was
twelve years old; before that age, it was thought he
could not well be rooted either in bad habits or ill
principles: he resolved also not to receive any that
came to hand; but, if possible, “only such as had
some thoughts of God, and some desire of saving their
souls; and such whose parents desired they should
not be almost, but altogether Christians.” The pro-
posed object was, “to answer the design of Christian
education, by framing their minds, through the help
of God, to wisdom and holiness, by instilling the
principles of true religion, speculative and practical,
and training them up in the ancient way, that they
might be rational, scriptural Christians.” Accord-
ingly he proclaimed, that the children of tender parents
had no business there, and that no child should be
received, unless his parents would agree that he
should observe all the rules of the house, and that
they would not take him from school, no, not for a
day, till they took him for good and all. “The rea-
sonableness of this uncommon rule,” says Wesley,
64. . RINGSWOOD SCHOOL.
“is shown by constant experience: for children may
unlearn as much in one week, as they have learned in
several; nay, and contract a prejudice to exact dis-
cipline, which never can be removed.” Had Wesley
been a father, he would have perceived that such a
rule is unreasonable, and felt that it is abominable:
uncommon, unhappily, it is not; for it makes a part
of the Jesuit establishments, and was adopted also by
Buonaparte, as part of his plan for training up an
army of Mamelukes in Europe. No rule could better
forward the purpose of those who desire to enslave
mankind. -
The children were to rise at four, winter and sum-
mer: this Wesley said he knew, by constant observa-
tion, and by long experience, to be of admirable use,
either for preserving a good or improving a bad con-
stitution; and he affirmed that it was of peculiar
service in almost all nervous complaints, both in pre-
venting and in removing them. They were to spend
the time till five in private, partly in reading, partly
in singing, partly in prayer, and in self-examination
and meditation, those that were capable of it. Poor
boys! they had better have spent it in sleep. From
five till seven they breakfasted and walked, or worked,
the master being with them; for the master was con-
stantly to be present; and there were no holidays,
and no play, on any day. Wesley had learnt a sour
German proverb, saying, “He that plays when he is
a child, will play when he is a man;” and he had for-
gotten an English one, proceeding from good nature
and good sense, which tells us by what kind of disci-
pline Jack may be made a dullboy: “Why,” he asks,
“should he learn, now, what he must unlearn by and
by ?” Why? for the same reason that he is fed with
milk when a suckling, because it is the food convenient
for him. They were to workin fair weather, according
to their strength, in the garden; on rainy days, in the
KINGSWOOD SCHOOL. 65
house, always in presence of a master; for they were
never, day or night, to be alone. This part of his
system Wesley adopted from the great school at Jena,
in Saxony: it is the practice of Catholic schools, and
may, perhaps, upon a comparison of evils, be better
than the opposite extreme, which leaves the boys,
during the greater part of their time, wholly without
superintendence. At a great expense of instinct and
enjoyment, and of that freedom of character, without
which the best character can only obtain from us a
cold esteem, it gets rid of much vice, much cruelty,
and much unhappiness. The school-hours were from
seven to eleven, and from one to five : eight was the
hour for going to bed; they slept in one dormitory,
each in a separate bed: a master lay in the same room,
and a lamp was kept burning there. Their food was
as simple as possible, and two days in the week no
meat was allowed.
The things to be taught there make a formidable
catalogue in the founder's plan : reading, writing,
arithmetic; English, French, Latin, Greek, Hebrew ;
history, geography, chronology, rhetoric, logic, ethics,
geometry, algebra ; natural philosophy, and metaphy-
sics. No Roman author was to be read, who had
lived later than the Augustan age, except certain
selections from Juvenal, Persius, and Martial. This
was carrying classical puritanism to an extreme; and
it indicates no very sound judgement that Wesley
should have preferred a few of the modern Latin
writers to supply the place of those whom he rejected.
The classics which were retained were to be carefully
expurgated: there had been a time when he was for
interdicting them altogether, as improper to be used
in the education of Christian youth, but this folly he
had long outgrown. -
He was enabled to establish the school by the
bounty of Lady Maxwell, one of his few converts in
VOL. II. F
66 KINGSWOOD SCHOOL.
high life. She was of the family of the Brisbanes, in
Ayrshire; was married to Sir Walter Maxwell at the
age of 17; at 19 was left a widow; and, six weeks
after the death of her husband, lost her son and only
child. From that hour she was never known to men-
tion either. Weaned from the world by these severe
dispensations, she looked for comfort to Him who
giveth and who taketh away; and what little of her
diary has appeared, shows more of high enthusiastic
devotion, unmingled and undebased, than is to be
found in any other composition of the kind. She used
to say, that, had it not been for the Methodists, she
should never have had those enjoyments in religion to
which she had attained; because it is seldom or never
that we go farther than our instructors teach us. It
was, however, many years before she formally joined
them, and she never forsook the Church of Scotland.
She lived to be the oldest member of the Society. The
school was founded long before she became a member;
but Wesley had no sooner mentioned his design to her,
than she presented him with bank notes to the amount
of 500l., and told him to begin immediately. After
some time she asked how the building was going on,
and whether he stood in need of farther assistance;
and hearing that a debt of 300l. had been incurred,
though he desired that she would not consider herself
under any obligation in the business, she immediately
ave him the whole sum.
The school was opened in 1748; in two or three
months there were twenty-eight scholars, notwith-
standing the strictness of the discipline; and so little
was economy in education understood in those days,
that there was an establishment of six masters for
them. “From the very beginning,” says Wesley, “I
met with all sorts of discouragements. Cavillers, and
prophets of evil, were on every side. An hundred
objections were made, both to the whole design and
RINGSWOOD SCHOOL. 67
every particular branch of it, especially by those from
whom I had reason to expect better things. Notwith-
standing which, through God's help, I went on ; wrote
an English, a Latin, a Greek, a Hebrew, and a French
grammar; and printed Praelectiones Pueriles, with
many other books, for the use of the school.” In
making his grammars, Wesley rejected much of the
rubbish with which such books are encumbered: they
might have been simplified still farther; but it was
reserved for Dr. Bell, the friend of children, to esta-
blish the principle in education, that every lesson
should be made perfectly intelligible to the child.
Upon visiting the school a year after its establish-
ment, he found that several rules had been habitually
neglected; and he judged it necessary to send away
some of the children, and suffer none to remain who
were not clearly satisfied with them, and determined
to observe them all. By the second year the scholars
had been reduced from twenty-eight to eighteen: it
is marvellous indeed that any but the sons of the
preachers should have remained; that any parents
should have suffered their children to be bred up in
a manner which would inevitably, in ninety-nine cases
out of an hundred, either disgust them with religion,
or make them hypocrites. “I wonder,’” says he,
“how I am withheld from dropping the whole design,
so many difficulties have continually attended it; yet
if this counsel is of God, it shall stand, and all hin-
drances shall turn into blessings.” The house was in
a state of complete anarchy. One of the masters was
so rough and disobliging, that the children were little
profited by him: a second, though honest and diligent,
was rendered contemptible by his person and manner:
the third had been useful, till the fourth set the boys
against him; and the two others were weighed down
by the rest, who neither observed the rules in the
school nor out of it. To crown all, the housekeeper
F 2
68 THE CONFERENCE.
neglected her duty, being taken up with thoughts of
another kind; and the four maids were divided into
two parties. This pitiful case he published for the
information of the Society, and cut down the esta-
blishment to two masters, a housekeeper, and a maid.
Two of the elder boys were dismissed as incorrigible,
out of four or five who were “very uncommonly
wicked,” (a very uncommon proportion of wicked
boys out of eighteen,) and five more soon went away.
Still it went on badly : four years afterwards he
speaks of endeavouring once more to bring it into
order. “Surely,” he says, “the importance of this
design is apparent, even from the difficulties that
attend it. I spent more money, and time, and care
on this than almost any design I ever had; and still
it exercises all the patience I have. But it is worth
all the labour.” - * - -
Provision had thus been made for the maintenance
of the preachers' families, and the education of their
sons. A Conference, to which Wesley, in the year
1744, invited his brother Charles, four other clergy-
men, who co-operated with him, and four of his lay
preachers, was from that time held annually, and be-
came the general assembly, in which the affairs of the
Society were examined and determined. They began
their first meeting by recording their desire, “that
all things might be considered as in the immediate
presence of God; that they might meet with a single
eye, and as little children who had every thing to
learn ; that every point which was proposed might be
examined to the foundation; that every person might
speak freely whatever was in his heart; and that every
question which might arise should be thoroughly de-
bated and settled.” There was no reason, they said,
to be afraid of doing this, lest they should overturn
their first principles: for if they were false, the sooner
they were overturned the better; if they were true,
TIIE, CONFERENCE. 69
they would bear the strictest examination. They
determined, in the intermediate hours of this Confer-
ence, to visit none but the sick, and to spend all the
time that remained in retirement; giving themselves
to prayer for one another, and for a blessing upon this
their labour. With regard to the judgement of the
majority, they agreed that, in speculative things, each
could only submit so far as his judgement should be
convinced; and that, in every practical point, each
would submit, so far as he could, without wounding
his conscience. Farther than this, they maintained, a
Christian could not submit to any man or number
of men upon earth; either to council, bishop, or con-
vocation. And this was that grand principle of
private judgement on which all the reformers pro-
ceeded. “Every man must judge for himself; because
every man must give an account for himself to God.”
But this principle, if followed to its full extent, is as
unsafe and as untenable as the opposite extreme of
the Romanists. The design of this meeting was to
consider what to teach, how to teach, and what to do;
in other words, how to regulate their doctrines, disci-
pline, and practice. Here, therefore, it will be con-
venient to present a connected account of each,
F 3
CHAPTER XX.
WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
WESLEY never departed willingly or knowingly from
the doctrines of the Church of England, in which he
had been trained up, and with which he was con-
scientiously satisfied, after full and free inquir
Upon points which have not been revealed, but are
within the scope of reason, he formed opinions for
himself, which were generally clear, consistent with
the Christian system, and creditable, for the most
part, both to his feelings and his judgement. But he
laid no stress upon them, and never proposed them
for more than they were worth. In the following
connected view of his scheme, care has been taken to
preserve his own words, as far as possible, for the
sake of fidelity.” º
* It is matter of earnest thought and deep concernment to me, –
and he little knows my heart who shall find the spirit of authorship in
what I am about to say, - to think that thousands will read this
chapter, or the substance of it, in the writings of Wesley himself, and
never complain of obscurity, or that it is, as Hone called my “Aids
to Reflection,” a proper brain-cracker. And why is this P. In the
words I use, or their collocation ? Not so : for no one has pointed out
any passage of importance, which he having at length understood, he
could propose other and more intelligible words that would have con-
veyed precisely the same meaning. No ! Wesley first relates his
theory as a history: the ideas were for him, and through him for his
readers, so many proper names, the substratum of meaning being sup-
plied by the general image and abstraction, of the human form with
the swarm of associations that cluster in it. Wesley takes for granted
that his readers will all understand it, all at once, and without effort.
The readers are far too well pleased with this, or rather, this proce-
dure is far too much in accord both with their mental indolence and
their self-complacency, that they should think of asking themselves
the question. Reflect on the simple fact of the state of a child's
mind while with great delight he reads or listens to the story of Jack
WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONs. 71
º
The moral, or, as he sometimes calls it the Adamic
law, he traced beyond the foundation of the world, to
and the Bean Stalk | How could this be, if in some sense he did not
understand it 2 Yea, the child does understand each part of it—A, and
B, and C ; but not A B C = X. He understands it as we all under-
stand our dreams, while we are dreaming, — each shape and incident, or
group of shapes and incidents, by itself—unconscious of, and therefore
unoffended at, the absence of the logical copula, or the absurdity of the
transitions. He understands it, in short, as the READING PUBLIC, un-
derstands this exposition of Wesley's theology. Now compare this with
the manner, and even obtruded purpose of the “ Friend,” or the “Aids
to Reflection,” in which the aim of every sentence is to solicit, nay, tease
the reader to ask himself, whether he actually does, or does not, under-
stand distinctly 2 — whether he has reflected on the precise meaning
of the word, however familiar it may be both to his ear and mouth P –
whether he has been hitherto aware of the mischief and folly of em-
ploying words on questions, to know the very truth of which is both
his interest and his duty, without fixing the one meaning which on
that question they are to represent P Page after page, for a reader
accustomed from childhood either to learn by rote, i. e. without under-
standing at all, as boys learn their Latin grammar, or to content him-
self with the popular use of words, always wide and general, and
expressing a whole county where perhaps the point in discussion con-
cerns the difference between two parishes of the same county (ew. gr.
MIND, which in the popular use means, sometimes memory, sometimes
reason, sometimes whderstanding, sometimes sense (atotºmouc), SOTY) 62-
times inclination, and sometimes all together, confusedly,)—for such a
reader, I repeat, page after page is a process of mortification and awk-
ward straining. Will any one instruct me how this is to be remedied ?
Will he refer me to any work, already published, which has achieved
the objects at which I aim, without exciting the same complaints P
But then I should wish my friendly monitor to show me, at the same
time, some one of these uncomplaining readers, and convince me that he
is actually master of the truth contained in that work — be it Plato's,
Bacon's, or Bull's, or Waterland's. Alas! alas ! with a poor illiterate,
but conscience-stricken, or soul-awakened Haime, or Pawson, I should
find few difficulties beyond those that are the price of all momentous
knowledge. For while I was demonstrating the inner structure of our
spiritual organisms, he would have his mental eye fixed on the same
subject, i.e. his own mind; even as an anatomist may be dissecting
a human eye, and the pupils too far off to see this, may yet be dissecting
another eye, closely following the instructions of the lecturer, and
comparing his words with the shapes and textures which the knife dis-
closes to them. But in the great majority of our gentry, and of our
classically educated clergy, there is a fearful combination of the sensuous
and the woreal. Whatever is subjective, the true and only proper
noumenon, or intelligibile, is unintelligible to them. But all substance
ipso nomine is necessarily subjective , and what these men call reality,
F 4
7 2 WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
that period, unknown indeed to men, but doubtless
enrolled in the annals of eternity, when the morning
stars first sang together, being newly called into ex-
istence. It pleased the Creator to make these His
first-born sons intelligent beings, that they might
know Him who created them. For this end he en-
dued them with understanding to discern truth from
falsehood, good from evil; and, as a necessary result
of this, with liberty, -a capacity of choosing the one,
and refusing the other.) By this they were likewise
enabled to offer Him a free and willing service; a
service rewardable in itself, as well as most acceptable
to their gracious Master. The law which He gave
them was a complete model of all truth, so far as was
intelligible to a finite being; and of all good, so far as
angelic natures were capable of embracing it. And
it was His design herein to make way for a continued
increase of their happiness, seeing every instance of
obedience to that law would both add to the perfec-
tion of their nature, and entitle them to a higher
is object unsouled of all subject; of course, an appearance only, which
becomes connected with the sense of reality by its being common to any
number of beholders present at the same moment; but an apparitio
communis is still but an apparition, and can be substantiated for each
individual only by his attributing a subject thereto, as its support and
causa sufficiens, even as the community of the appearance is the sign
and presumptive proof of its objectivity. In short, I would fain bring
the cause I am pleading to a short and simple, yet decisive test.
Consciousness, eipt, mind, life, will, body, organ 36 machine, nature,
spirit, sin, habit, sense, understanding, reason : here are fourteen
words. Have you ever reflectively and quietly asked yourself the
meaning of any one of these, and tasked yourself to return the answer
in distinct terms, not applicable to any one of the other words P Or
have you contented yourself with the vague floating meaning that will
just serve to save you from absurdity in the use of the word, just as the
clown's botany would do, who knew that potatoes were roots, and cab-
bages greens P Or, if you have the gift of wit, shelter yourself under
Augustine's equivocation, “I know it perfectly well till I am asked.”
Know P Ay, as an oyster knows its life. But do you know your know-
ledge P. If the latter be your case, can you wonder that the “Aids of
Reflection ” are clouds and darkness for you ? – S. T. C.
WESLEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONs. 73
reward, which the righteous Judge would give in its
season. (In like manner, when God, in His appointed
time, had created a new order of intelligent beings —
when He had raised man from the dust of the earth,
breathed into him the breath of life, and caused him
to become a living soul, He gave to this free intelli-
gent creature the same law as to his first-born chil-
dren) not written, indeed, upon tables of stone, or
any corruptible substance, but engraven on his heart
by the finger of God, written in the inmost spirit,
both of men and angels, to the intent it might never
be afar off, never hard to be understood, but always
at hand, and always shining with clear light, even as
the sun in the midst of heaven. (Such was the original
of the law of God.) With regard to man, it was
coeval with his nature; but with regard to the elder
sons of God, it shone in its full splendour, “ or ever
the mountains were brought forth, or the earth, and
the round world were made.” * .
(Man was made holy, as He that created him is holy:
perfect as his Father in heaven is perfect. As God
is love, so man, dwelling in love, dwelt in God, and
God in him. God made him to be an image of his
OWI). etermity). To man thus perfect, God gave a per-
fect law, to which He required full and perfect obe-
dience. He required full obedience in every point.
No allowance was made for any falling short: there
was no need of any, man being altogether equal to
the task assigned him. Man disobeyed this law, and
from that moment he died. God had told him, “In
the day that thou eatest of that fruit thou shalt surely
die.” Accordingly, on that day he did die: he died
to God, the most dreadful of all deaths. He lost the
life of God: he was separated from Him in union with
whom his spiritual life consisted. His soul died):
The body dies when it is separated from the soul;
74 WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
the soul, when it is separated from God: but this
separation Adam sustained in the day, the hour,
when he ate of the forbidden fruit. The threat can-
not be understood of temporal death, without im-
peaching the veracity of God. . It must therefore be
understood of spiritual death, the loss of the life and
image of God. His body likewise became corruptible
and mortal; and being already dead in the spirit,
dead to God, dead in sin, he hastened on to death
everlasting, to the destruction both of body and soul,
in the fire never to be quenched.
Why was this 2 Why are there sin and misery in
the world? Because man was created in the image
of God} because he is not mere matter, a clod of
earth, a lump of clay, without sense or understanding,
but a spirit, like his Creator; a being endued not
only with sense and understanding, but also with a
will. Because, to crown the rest, he was endued with
liberty, a power of directing his own affections and
actions, a capacity of determining for himself, or of
choosing good or evil. Had not man been endued
with this, all the rest would have been of no use. Had
he not been a free, as well as an intelligent being, his
understanding would have been as incapable of holi-
ness, or any kind of virtue, as a tree or a block of
marble. And having this power of choosing good or
evil, he chose evil. But in Adam all died, and this
was the natural consequence of his fall. He was
more than the representative, or federal head, of the
human race,—the seed and souls of all mankind were
contained in him, and therefore partook of the cor-
ruption of his nature. From that time every man
who is born into the world bears the image of the
Devil, in pride and self-will,—the image of the beast,
in sensual appetites and desires. All his posterity
were, by this act and deed, entitled to error, guilt,
WESLEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 75
Sorrow, fear, pain, disease, and death, and these they
have inherited for their portion. The cause has been
revealed to us, and the effects are seen over the whole
world, and felt in the heart of every individual. But
this is no ways inconsistent with the justice and
goodness of God, because all may recover, through the
second Adam, whatever they lost through the first.
Not one child of man finally loses thereby, unless by
his own choice. A remedy has been provided, which
is adequate to the disease. Yea, more than this,
mankind have gained, by the fall, a capacity, first, of
being more holy and happy on earth ; and, secondly,
of being more happy in heaven than otherwise they
could have been. For if man had not fallen, there
must have been a blank in our faith and in our love.
There could have been no such thing as faith in God
“so loving the world, that he gave his only Son for
us men, and for our salvation ; ” no faith in the Son of
God, as loving us, and giving himself for us; no faith
in the Spirit of God, as renewing the image of God in
our hearts, or raising us from the death of sin unto
the life of righteousness.) And the same blank must
likewise have been in our love. We could not have
loved the Father under the nearest and dearest rela-
tion, as delivering up his Son for us: we could not
have loved the Son, as bearing our sins in his own
body on the tree, and by that one oblation of himself,
once offered, making a full oblation, sacrifice, and
satisfaction for the sins of the whole world: we could
not have loved the Holy Ghost, as revealing to us the
Father and the Son, as opening the eyes of our under-
standings, bringing us out of darkness into his mar-
vellous light, renewing the image of God in our soul,
and sealing us unto the day of redemption. So that
what is now, in the sight of God, pure religion and
undefiled, would then have had no being.
(The fall of man is the very foundation of revealed
76 wesDEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
religion. If this be taken away, the Christian system
is subverted;) nor will it deserve so honourable an
appellation as that of a cunningly devised fable. (it is
a scriptural doctrine: many plain texts directly teach
it. It is a rational doctrine, thoroughly consistent
with sound reason, though there may be some circum-
stances relating to it which human reason cannot
fathom. It is a practical doctrine, having the closest
connection with the life, power, and practice of religion.
It leads man to the foundation of all Christian prac-
tice, the knowledge of himself, and thereby to the
knowledge of ; and of Christ crucified. (It is an
experimental doctrine. The sincere Christian carries
the proof of it in his own bosom. Thus Wesley rea-
soned; and, from the corruption of man's nature, or,
in his own view of the doctrine, from the death of the
soul, he inferred the necessity of a New º He had
made that expression obnoxious in the season of his
enthusiasm, and it was one of those things which em-
barrassed him in his sober and maturer years; but he
had committed himself too far to retract; and there-
fore when he saw, and in his own cool judgement
disapproved, the extravagances to which the abuse of
the term had led, he still continued to use it, and even
pursued the metaphor through all its bearings, with a
wantonness of ill-directed fancy, gºſ which this is the
only instance in all his writings. SAnd in attempting
to reconcile the opinion which he held with the doc-
trine of the Church, he entangled himself in contra-
dictions, like a man catching at all arguments, when
defending a cause which he knows to be weak and
untenable. .
&º with his doctrine of the New Birth was
that of Justification, which he affirmed to be insepa-
rable from it, yet easily to be distinguished, as being
not the same, but of a widely different nature. In
order of time, neither of these is before the other : in
WESLEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 77
the moment we are justified by the grace of God,
through the redemption that is in Jesus, we are also
born of the Spirit; but in order of thinking, as it is
termed, Justification precedes the New Birth) We
first conceive his wrath to be turned away, and then
his Spirit to work in our hearts. Justification implies
only a relative, the New Birth a real change. God in
justifying us, does something for us; in begetting us
again, He does the work in us. The former changes
our outward relation to God, so that of enemies we
become children. By the latter, our inmost souls are
changed, so that of sinners we become Saints. The
one restores us to the favour, the other to the image,
is the forgiveness of all our sins, and, what is neces-
sarily implied therein, our acceptance with God. The
immediate effects are, the peace of God, a peace that
passeth all understanding; and a “rejoicing in hope of
the glory of God, with joy unspeakable and full of
glory.” And at the same time that we are justified,
yea, in that very moment, sanctification begins. In
that instant we are born again; and when we are born
again, then our sanctification begins, and thencefor-
ward we are gradually to “grow up in Him who is
our head.” JThis expression, says Wesley, points out
the exact analogy there is between natural and
spiritual things. A child is born of a woman in a
moment, or, at least, in a very short time. After-
wards, he gradually and slowly grows till he attains
to the stature of a man. In like manner a person is
born of God in a short time, if not in a moment; but
it is by slow degrees that he afterwards grows up to
the measure of the full stature of Christ. The same
relation, therefore, which there is between our natural
birth and our growth, there is also between our New
Birth and our Sanctification. And sanctification,
though in some degree the immediate fruit of justi-
,” ºr
of God. Qustification is another word for pardon. It . *
78 wFSLEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONs.
fication, is a distinct gift of God, and of a totally
different nature. (The one implies what God does for
ws through his Son; the other, what he works in us by
his Spirit.) Men are no more able, of themselves, to
think one good thought, to speak one good word, or do
one good work, after justification, than before they
were justified. When the Lord speaks to our hearts
the second time, “Be clean,” then only the evil root,
the carnal mind, is destroyed, and sin subsists no more.
A deep conviction, that there is yet in us a carnal
mind, shows, beyond all possibility of doubt, the ab-
solute necessity of a farther change. If there be no
such second change, if there be no instantaneous deli-
verance after justification, if there be none but a
gradual work of God, then we must be content, as
well as we can, to remain full of sin till death; and if
so, we must remain guilty till death, continually de-
serving punishment. Thus Wesley explains a doc-
trine which, in his old age, he admitted that he did
not find a profitable subject for an unawakened con-
gregation.
º deliverance, he acknowledged, might be gra-
dually wrought in some. I mean, he says, in this
sense, they do not advert to the particular moment
wherein sin ceases to be. But it is infinitely desir-
able, were it the will of God, that it should be done
instantaneously; that the Lord should destroy sin in
a moment, in the twinkling of an eye. And so he
generally does. This, Wesley insisted, was a plain
fact, of which there was evidence enough to satisfy
any unprejudiced person. And why might it not be
instantaneous 2 he argued. A moment is to Him the
same as a thousand years. He cannot want more time
to accomplish whatever is his will: , and he cannot
wait or stay for more worthiness or fitness in the per-
sons he is pleased to honour. Whatever may be
thought of the doctrine and of its evidence, it was a
powerful one in Wesley's hands. To the confidence,
WESLEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 79
he says, that God is both able and willing to sanctify
us now, there needs to be added one thing more, a
divine evidence and conviction that he doth it. In
that hour it is done.) “Thou, therefore, look for it
every moment: you can be no worse, if you are no
better, for that expectation; for were you to be disap-
pointed of your hope, still you lose nothing. But you
shall not be disappointed of your hope : it will come,
it will not tarry. Look for it then every day, every
hour, every moment. Why not this hour 2 this
moment? Certainly you may look for it now, if you
believe it is by faith. And by this token you may
surely know whether you seek it by faith or works.”
If by works, you want something to be done first, be.
fore you are sanctified. You think I must first be, or
do, thus or thus. Then you are seeking it by works
unto this day. If you seek it by faith, you may
expect it as you are ; then expect it now. It is of
importance to observe, that there is an inseparable
connection between these three points — expect it
by faith, expect it as you are, and expect it now. To
deny one of them, is to deny them all: to allow one,
is to allow them all. Do you believe we are sanctified
by faith? Be true then to your principle, and look
for this blessing just as you are, neither better nor
worse; as a poor sinner, that has nothing to pay, no-
thing to plead, but “Christ died.’ And if you look for
it as you are, then expect it now. Stay for nothing !
Why should you? Christ is ready, and he is all you
want. He is waiting for you ! he is at the door.
Whosoever thou art who desirest to be forgiven, first
believe. Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and then
thou shalt do all things well. Say not, ‘I cannot be
accepted yet, because I am not good enough.' Who is
* This is shrewd logic; but it is mere logic. A month's meditation
on the being of sin, and not on the verbal definition of the word sin,
might perhaps have shown Wesley its futility. But life was always a
metaphor for him. He never got deeper than Bioc.—S. T. C.
.. *::
: '. &
80 WESLEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONs.
good enough, who ever was, to merit acceptance at
God's hands 2 Say not, “I am not contrite enough; I
am not sensible enough of my sins.' I know it. I
would to God thou wert more sensible of them, and
more contrite a thousand fold than thou art | But do
not stay for this. It may be God will make thee so;
not before thou believest, but by believing. It may
be thou wilt not weep much, till thou lovest much,
because thou hast had much forgiven.”
CUpon these fundamental doctrines of the New Birth,
and Justification by Faith, he exhorted his disciples
to insist with all boldness, at all times, and in all
places: in public, those who were-called thereto; .
at all opportunities in private) (i. what is Fº
“Not an opinion,” said Wesley, “nor any number of
opinions put together, be they ever so true. A string
of opinions is no more Christian faith, than a
string of beads is Christian holiness. It is not an
assent to any opinion, or any number of opinions.
A man may assent to three, or three-and-twenty
creeds: he mey assent to all the Old and New Testa-
ment, (at least as far as he understands them,) and
yet have no Christian faith at all. The faith by which
the promise is attained, is represented by Christianity
as a power wrought by the Almighty in an immortal
spirit, inhabiting a house of clay, to see through that
veil into the world of spirits, into things invisible and
eternal: a power to discern those things which, with
eyes of flesh and blood, no man hath seen, or can see;
either by reason of their nature, which (though they
surround us on every side) is not perceivable by these
gross senses; or by reason of their distance, as being
yet afar off in the bosom of eternity. It showeth
what eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither could
it before enter into our heart to conceive; and all this
in the clearest light, with the fullest certainty and
evidence. For it does not leave us to receiº our no-
tice by mgre reflection from the dull glass of sense,
... f. "
Jr.
ºzº AND OPINIONS. 81
but resolves a £housand enigº of the highest con-
cern, by giving faculties suited to things invisible.
It is the eye ºf the new born soul, whereby every true
believer “see?}r Him who is invisible.” It is the ear
of the soul, whereby the sinner “hears the voice of
the Son of God, and lives;” the pālate of the soul, (if
the expression may be allowed,) whereby a believer
“tastes the good word and the powers of the world to
come;” the feeling of the soul, whereby, “through
the power of the Highest overshadowing him,” he per-
ceives the presence; of Him in whom hººves, and
moves, and has his being, and feels thºſlove of God
shed abroad in his heart. It is the infernal evidence
of Christianity, a perpetual revelation, equally strong,
equally new, through all the centuries which have
elapsed since the incarnation, and passing now, even as
it has done from the beginning, directly from God into
the believing soul. Do you suppose time will ever dry "
up this stream? Oh no It shall never be cut off—
Iabitur et labetwº' in omne volubilis aevum.
It flows, and as it flows, for ever will flow on.
The historical evidence of revelation, strong and clear
as it is, is cognizable by men of learning alone; but
this is plain, simple, and level to the lowest capacity.
The sum is, “One thing I know : I was blind, but
now I see: ” an argument of which a peasant, a
woman, a child, may feel all the force. The tra-
ditional evidence gives an account of what was trans-
acted far away, and long ago. The inward evidence
is intimately present to all persons, at all times, and
in all places. “It is nigh thee, in thy mouth, and in
thy heart, if thou believest in the Lord Jesus Christ.”
This, then, is the record, this is the evidence, emphati-
cally so called, that God hath given unto us eternal life,
and this life is in his Son.
Why, then, have not all men this faith ? Because
WOL. II. G



82 WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND2OPINIONS.
. A
no man is able to work it in himself: it is a work
of Omnipotence. It requires no less power thus to
quicken a dead soul, than to raise a body that lies in
the grave. It is a new creation; and none can create
a soul anew, but He who at first created the heavens
and the earth. May nqf your own experience teach
you this 2 said Wesley. \Can you give yourself this
faith ?) Is it in your power to see, or hear, or taste,
or feeſ God?—to raise in yourself any perception of
God, or of an invisible world 2–to open an intercourse
between yourself and the world of spirits?—to discern
either them or Him that created them P – to burst the
veil that is on your heart, and let in the light of eter-
nity ? You know it is not. You not only do not, but
cannot (by your own strength), thus believe.” The
more you labour so to do more you will be con-
vinced it is the gift of či. is the free gift of God,
which he bestows not on those who are worthy of his
favour) not on such as are previously holy, and so fit
to be crowned with all the blessings of his goodness;
but on the ungodly and unholy; on those who, till
that hour, were fit only for everlasting destruction;
those in whom was no good thing, and whose only
plea was, God be merciful to me a sinner | No merit,
no goodness in man, precedes the forgiving love of
God. This pardoning mercy supposes nothing in us
but a sense of mere sin and misery; and to all who
See and feel, and own their wants, and their utter
inability to remove them, God freely gives faith, for
the sake of Him “in whom he is always well pleased.”
* I venture to avow it as my conviction, that either Christian faith is
what Wesley here describes, or there is no proper meaning in the word.
It is either the identity of the reason and the will (the proper spiritual
part of man), in the full energy of each, consequent on a divine re-
kindling, or it is not at all. Faith is as real as life; as actual as
force; as effectual as volition. It is the physics of the moral being,
no less than it is the physics or morale of the zoo-physical. —S. T. C.
May 1, 1820.
WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 83
Whosoever thou art, O man, who hast the sentence of
death in thyself, unto thee saith the Lord, not, “Do
this, perfectly obey all my commands, and live;” but,
“Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved.”
Without faith, a man cannot be justified, even
though he should have every thing else; with faith,
he cannot but be justified, though every thing else
should be wanting. This justifying faith implies not
only the personal revelation, the inward evidence of
Christianity, but likewise a sure and firm confidence
in the individual believer, that Christ died for his sins,
loved him, and gave his life for him. And at what
time soever a sinner thus believes, God justifieth him.
Repentance, indeed, must have been given him before;
but that repentance was neither more nor less than a
deep sense of the want of all good, and the presence
of all evil; and whatever good he hath or doth from
that hour when he first believes in God through
Christ, faith does not find, but bring. Both repent-
ance, and fruits meet for repentance, are in some
degree necessary to justification: but they are not
necessary in the same sense with faith, nor in the
same degree. Not in the same degree; for these fruits
are only necessary conditionally, if there be time and
opportunity for them. Not in the same sense; for
repentance and its fruits are only remotely necessary
– necessary in order to faith; whereas faith is im-
mediately and directly necessary to justification. In
like manner, faith is the only condition of sanctifica-
tion. Every one that believes is sanctified, whatever
else he has, or has not. In other words, no man can
be sanctified till he believes; every man when he
believes is sanctified.
Here Wesley came upon perilous ground. We
must be holy in heart and life, before we can be con-
scious that we are so. But we must love God before
G 2
84 WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
we can be holy at all. We cannot love Him till we
know that He loves us; and this we cannot know till
his Spirit witnesses it to our spirit. The testimony
of the Spirit of God must therefore, he argued, in the
very nature of things, be antecedent to the testimony
of our own spirit. But he perceived that many had
mistaken the voice of their own imagination for this
witness of the Spirit, and presumed that they were
children of God, while they were doing the works of
the Devil. And he was not surprised that many
sensible men, seeing the effects of this delusion,
should lean toward another extreme, and question
whether the witness of the Spirit whereof the apostle
speaks, is the privilege of ordinary Christians, and
not rather one of those extraordinary gifts which
they suppose belonged only to the apostle's age. Yet,
when he asks, “How may one, who has the real wit-
ness in himself, distinguish it from presumption?” he
evades the difficulty, and offers a declamatory reply,
“How, I pray, do you distinguish day from night?
How do you distinguish light from darkness? or
the light of a star, or of a glimmering taper, from
the light of the noonday Sun ?” This is the ready
answer of every one who has been crazed by enthu-
siasm. But Wesley regarded the doctrine as one of
the glories of his people, as one grand part of the
testimony which God, he said, had given them to
bear to all mankind. It was by this peculiar blessing
upon them, confirmed by the experience of his chil-
dren, that this great evangelical truth, he averred,
had been recovered, which had been for many years
wellnigh lost and forgotten.
These notions led to the doctrine of Assurance,
which he had defended so pertinaciously against his
brother Samuel. But upon this point his fervour
had abated, and he made a fairer retractation than
Was to be expected from the founder of a sect.
WESLEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONs. 85
“Some,” said he, “are fond of the expression; I am
not; I hardly ever use it. But I will simply declare
(having neither leisure nor inclination to draw the
sword of controversy concerning it) what are my
present sentiments with regard to the thing which is
usually meant thereby. 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 the plerophory, or 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, is what the apostle
means by the plerophory, or full assurance of faith.
I believe a consciousness of being in the favour of
God (which I do not term plerophory, or full as-
surance, since it is frequently weakened, nay, perhaps
interrupted, by returns of doubt or fear,) is the com-
mon privilege of Christians, fearing God, and work-
ing righteousness. Yet I do not affirm there are no
exceptions to this general rule. Possibly some may
be in the favour of God, and yet go mourning all the
day long. (But I believe this is usually owing either
to disorder of body, or ignorance of the gospel pro-
mises.) Therefore I have not, for many years,
thought a consciousness of acceptance to be essential
to justifying faith. And after I have thus explained
myself once for all, I think without any evasion or
ambiguity, I am sure without any self-contradiction,
I hope all reasonable men will be satisfied: and who-
ever will still dispute with me on this head, must do
it for disputing's sake.”
The doctrine of Perfection is not less perilous, sure
as the expression was to be mistaken by the ignorant
people to whom his discourses were addressed. This,
too, was a doctrine which he had preached with in-
considerate ardour at the commencement of his ca-
reer; and which, as he grew older, cooler, and wiser,
G 3
86 WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
he modified and softened down, so as almost to ex-
plain it away. He defined it to be a constant com-
munion with God, which fills the heart with humble
love; and to this, he insisted, that every believer
might attain : yet he admitted that it did not in-
clude a power never to think an useless thought,
nor speak an useless word. Such a perfection is in-
consistent with a corruptible body, which makes it
impossible always to think right: if, therefore, Chris-
tian perfection implies this, he admitted that we must
not expect it till after death. To one of his female
disciples, who seems to have written to him under a
desponding sense of her own imperfection, he replied
in these terms: “I want you,” he added, “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 judgement is, that (in this case particu-
larly) to overdo, is to undo ; and that to set perfec-
tion too high, is the most effectual way of driving it
out of the world.” In like manner he justified the
word to Bishop Gibson, by explaining it to mean less
than it expressed; so that the bishop replied to him,
“Why, Mr. Wesley, if this is what you mean by per-
fection, who can be against it?” “Man,” he says,
“in his present state, can no more attain Adamic
than angelic perfection. The perfection of which
man is capable, while he dwells in a corruptible body,
is the complying with that kind command, “My son,
give me thy heart 1' It is the loving the Lord his
God, with all his heart, and with all his soul, and
with all his mind.” But these occasional explana-
tions did not render the general use of the word less
mischievous, or less reprehensible. Ignorant hearers
took it for what it appeared to mean; and what, from
the mouths of ignorant instructors, it was intended
to mean. It flattered their vanity and their spiritual
WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 87
pride, and became one of the most popular tenets of
the Methodists, precisely because it is one of the most
objectionable. Wesley himself repeatedly finds fault
with his preachers if they neglected to enforce a doc-
trine so well adapted to gratify their hearers. In
one place he says, “The more I converse with the
believers in Cornwall, the more am I convinced that
they have sustained great loss for want of hearing the
doctrine of Christian Perfection clearly and strongly
enforced. I see wherever this is not done, the be-
lievers grow dead and cold. Nor can this be pre-
vented, but by keeping up in them an hourly ex-
pectation 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.”
And on another occasion he writes thus: “Here I
found the plain reason why the work of God had
gained no ground in this circuit all the year. The
preachers had given up the Methodist testimony.
Either they did not speak of perfection at all, (the
peculiar doctrine committed to our trust,) or they
spoke of it only in general terms, without urging the
believers to go on to perfection, and to expect it every
moment: and wherever this is not earnestly done, the
work of God does not prosper. As to the word per-
fection,” said he, “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.” Thus it was that
he attempted to justify to others, and to himself also,
the use of language, for persevering in which, after
the intemperance of his enthusiasm had abated, there
can be no excuse, seeing that all he intended to con-
vey by the obnoxious term might have been expressed
without offending the judicious, or deluding the igno-
rant and indiscreet.
Wesley was not blind to the tendency of these doc-
G 4
88 WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
trines. “The true gospel,” said he, “touches the
very edge both of Calvinism and Antinomianism, so
that nothing but the mighty power of God can pre-
vent our sliding either into the one or the other.”
Many of his associates and followers fell into both.
He always declared himself clearly and strongly
against both ; though at the expense of some incon-
sistency, when he preached of a sanctification which
left the subject liable to sin, of an assurance which
was not assured, and of an imperfect perfection. But
his real opinion could not be mistaken; and few men
have combated these pestilent errors with more earn-
estness or more success. He never willingly engaged
in those subtle and unprofitable discussions which
have occasioned so much dissension in the Christian
world; but upon those points in which speculation is
allowable, and error harmless, he freely indulged his
imagination.
It was his opinion that there is a chain of beings
advancing by degrees from the lowest to the highest
point — from an atom of unorganised matter, to the
highest of the archangels; an opinion consonant to
the philosophy of the bards, and confirmed by science,
as far as our physiological knowledge extends. He
believed in the ministry both of good and evil angels;
but whether every man had a guardian angel to pro-
tect him, as the Romanists hold, and a malignant
demon continually watching to seduce him into the
ways of sin and death, this he considered as undeter-
mined by revelation, and therefore doubtful. Evil
thoughts he held to be infused into the minds of men
by the evil principle; and that “as no good is done,
or spoken, or thought, by any man, without the assist-
ance of God working together in and with those that
believe in him; so there is no evil done, or spoken, or
thought, without the assistance of the Devil, “who
worketh with energy in the children of unbelief. And
WESLEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONs. 89
certainly,” said he, “it is as easy for a spirit to speak
to our heart, as for a man to speak to our ears. But
sometimes it is exceedingly difficult to distinguish the
thoughts which he infuses from our own thoughts,
those which he injects so exactly resembling those
which naturally arise in our own minds. Sometimes,
indeed, we may distinguish one from the other by this
circumstance : the thoughts which naturally arise in
our minds are generally, if not always, occasioned by,
or at least connected with, some inward or outward
circumstance that went before ; but those that are
preternaturally suggested, have frequently no rela-
tion to, or connection (at least, none that we are able
to discern,) with, anything which preceded. On the
contrary, they shoot in, as it were, across, and thereby
show that they are of a different growth.”
His notions of diabolical agency went farther than
this: he imputed to it many of the accidents and dis-
comforts of life, – disease, bodily hurts, storms and
earthquakes, and nightmare: he believed that epilepsy
was often or always the effect of possession, and that
most madmen were demoniacs. A belief in witchcraft
naturally followed from these premises; but after
satisfying his understanding that supernatural acts
and appearances are consistent with the order of the
universe, sanctioned by Scripture, and proved by
testimony too general and too strong to be resisted,
he invalidated his own authority, by listening to the
most absurd tales with implicit credulity, and record-
ing them as authenticated facts. He adhered to the
old opinion, that the devils were the gods of the hea-
then ; and he maintained, that the words in the Lord's
Prayer, which have been rendered evil, mean, in the
original, the wicked one, “emphatically so called, the
prince and god of this world, who works with mighty
power in the children of disobedience.”
One of his most singular notions was concerning
90 WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
the day of judgement. He thought it probable that
its duration would be severalthousand years, that the
place would be above the earth, and that the circum-
stances of every individual's life would then be brought
forth in full view, together with all their tempers,
and all the desires, thoughts, and intents of their
hearts. This he thought absolutely necessary for the
full display of the glory of God, for the clear and
perfect manifestation of his wisdom, justice, power,
and mercy. “Then only,” he argued, “when God
hath brought to light all the hidden things of dark-
ness, will it be seen that wise and good were all his
ways: that he saw through the thick cloud, and
governed all things by the wise counsel of his own
will; that nothing was left to chance or the caprice
of men, but God disposed all strongly, and wrought
all into one connected chain of justice, mercy, and
truth.” Whether the earth and the material heavens
would be consumed by the general conflagration, and
pass away, or be transmuted by the fire into that sea
of glass like unto crystal, which is described in the
Apocalypse as extending before the throne, we could
neither affirm nor deny, he said; but we should know
hereafter. He held the doctrine of the millennium
to be scriptural; but he never fell into those wild and
extravagant fancies, in which speculations of this
kind so frequently end. The Apocalypse is the
favourite study of crazy religionists; but Wesley says
of it, “Oh, how little do we know of this deep book!
at least, how little do I know ! I can barely con-
jecture, not affirm, any one point concerning that
part of it which is yet unfulfilled.” -
He entertained some interesting opinions concern-
ing the brute creation, and derived whatever evils
inferior creatures endure, or inflict upon each other,
from the consequence of the Fall. In Paradise they
existed in a state of happiness, enjoying will and
WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 91
liberty: their passions and affections were regular,
and their choice always guided by their understand-
ing, which was perfect in its kind. “What,” says he,
“is the barrier between men and brutes, –the line
which they cannot pass It is not reason. Set aside
that ambigious term ; exchange it for the plain word
understanding, and who can deny that brutes have
this 2 We may as well deny that they have sight or
hearing. But it is this: man is capable of God; the
inferior creatures are not. We have no ground to
believe that they are in any degree capable of knowing,
loving, or obeying God. This is the specific difference
between man and brute-the great gulf which they
cannot pass over. And as a loving obedience to God
was the perfection of man, so a loving obedience to
man was the perfection of brutes.” While this con-
tinued, they were happy after their kind, in the right
state and the right use of all their faculties. Evil
and pain had not entered into Paradise; and they
were immortal”; for “God made not death, neither
hath he pleasure in the death of any living.” How
true, then, is that word, “God saw every thing that
he had made, and behold it was very good.”
But as all the blessings of God flowed through man
to the inferior creatures, those blessings were cut off
when man made himself incapable of transmitting
* Wesley appears to have confounded the term immortal with im-
perishable. Life may be (and if life be ens rerum, must be,) imperish-
able ; but only reason is, or can render, immortal. An immortal brute
is a contradiction in terms. Without continued progression there is no
motive, - but without self-consciousness there is no subject, for immor-
tality. But self-consciousness (which I suspect Wesley confounded
with the copula of vital sensations in the successive unity of the multi-
tude of acts that constitute the life in each successive instant of time)—
self-consciousness is, or implies, reason : for it implies the power of
contemplating the self, as an IDEA loosened from the sensation of on E’s
own self, as the, I am 3é I James, or I John ; consequently the power
of determining an ultimate end — which if brutes possess, they are no
longer brutes. But this opinion affords a fresh proof that Wesley’s
intellect never rose above logic. — S. T. C. - -
92 wesDEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
them, and all creatures were then subjected to sorrow,
and pain, and evil of every kind. It is probable that
the meaner creatures sustained much loss, even in the
lower faculties of their corporeal powers: they suffered
more in their understanding, and still more in their
liberty, their passions, and their will. The very
foundations of their nature were turned upside down.
As man is deprived of his perfection, his loving
obedience to God, so brutes are deprived of their per-
fection, their loving obedience to man. The far
greater part flee from his hated presence; others set
him at defiance, and destroy him when they can; a
few only retain more or less of their original disposi-
tion, and, through the mercy of God, still love him
and obey him. And in consequence of the first
transgression, death came upon the whole creation;
and not death alone, but all its train of preparatory
evils, pain, and ten thousand sufferings; nor these
only, but likewise those irregular passions, all those
unlovely tempers, which in man are sins, and even in
brutes are sources of misery, passed upon all the in-
habitants of the earth, and remain in all, except the
children of God. Inferior creatures torment, per-
secute, and devour each other, and all are tormented
and persecuted by man. But, says Wesley, will the
creature, will even the brute creation always remain
in this deplorable condition? God forbid that we
should affirm this, yea, or even entertain such a
thought. While the whole creation groaneth to-
gether, whether men attend or not, their groans are
not dispersed in idle air, but enter into the ears of
him that made them. Away with vulgar prejudices,
and let the plain word of God take place “God
shall wipe away all tears: and there shall be no more
death, neither sorrow nor crying. Neither shall
there be any more pain; for the former things are
passed away.” This blessing shall take place; not
WESLEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 93
on men alone, (there is no such restriction in the
text,) but on every creature according to its capacity.
The whole brute creation will then undoubtedly be
restored to all that they have lost, and with a large
increase of faculties. They will be delivered from all
unruly passions, from all evil, and all suffering. And
what if it should then please the all-wise, the all-
gracious Creator, to raise them higher in the scale of
beings?” What if it should please Him, when he
makes us equal to angels, to make them what we are
now, creatures capable of God, capable of knowing,
and loving, and enjoying the author of their being 2"
Some teacher of materialism had asserted, that if
man had an immaterial soul, so had the brutes; as if
this conclusion reduced that opinion to a manifest
absurdity. “I will not quarrel,” said Wesley, “with
any that think they have. Nay, I wish he could
prove it ; and surely I would rather allow them souls,
than I would give up my own.” He cherished this
opinion, because it furnished a full answer to a plau-
sible objection against the justice of God. That jus-
tice might seem to be impugned by the sufferings to
which brute animals are subject; those, especially,
who are under the tyranny of brutal men. But the
objection vanishes, if we consider that something
better remains after death for these poor creatures
also. This good end, he argued, was answered by
thus speculating upon a subject which we so imper-
fectly understand; and such speculations might soften
and enlarge our hearts.
The kindness of Wesley's nature is apparent in this
opinion, and that same kindness produced in him a
degree of charity, which has seldom been found in
* How was it possible for Wesley not to see that there is no mean-
ing in the word them, as applied to flies, fish, worms, &c. * As
well, if I suffered a door to fall to pieces, and put a dog in the passage
instead, I might be said to have raised the door into a dog. — S. T. C.
94 WESLEY's DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
those who aspire to reform a church or to establish a
sect. “We may die,” he says, “without the know-
ledge of many truths, and yet be carried into Abra-
ham's bosom ; but if we die without love, what will
knowledge avail? Just as much as it avails the
devil and his angels! I will not quarrel with you
about my opinion; only see that your heart be right
towards God, that you know and love the Lord Jesus
Christ, that you love your neighbour, and walk as
your Master walked, and I desire no more. I am
sick of opinions: I am weary to bear them:
my soul loathes this frothy food. Give me solid
and substantial religion : give me an humble gentle
lover of God and man; a man full of mercy and
good faith, without partiality, and without hypo-
crisy; a man laying himself out in the work of
faith, the patience of hope, the labour of love. Let
my soul be with these Christians, wheresoever they
are, and whatsoever opinion they are of ‘Whosoever'
thus ‘doth the will of my Father which is in heaven,
the same is my brother, and sister, and mother.’
This temper of mind led him to judge kindly of
the Romanists”, and of hereticsi of every descrip-
* “I read the deaths of some of the order of La Trappe. I am
amazed at the allowance which God makes for invincible ignorance.
Notwithstanding the mixture of superstition which appears in every
one of these, yet what a strong vein of piety runs through all ! What
deep experience of the inward work of God, of righteousness, peace,
and joy in the Holy Ghost.”
“ In riding from Evesham to Bristol, I read over that surprising
book, the life of Ignatius Loyola ; surely one of the greatest men that
ever was engaged in the support of so bad a cause ! I wonder any man
should judge him to be an enthusiast. No ; but he knew the people
with whom he had to do ; and setting out, like Count Zinzendorf,
with a full persuasion that he might use guile to promote the glory of
God, or (which he thought the same thing) the interest of his church,
he acted in all things consistent with his principles.”
t Of Pelagius he says, “By all I can pick up from ancient authors,
I guess he was both a wise and a holy man ; that we know nothing but
his name, for his writings are all destroyed — not one line of them left.”
So, too, he says of some heretics of an earlier age, “By reflecting on
an odd book which I had read in this journey, ‘The general Delusion
WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 95
tion,” wherever a Christian disposition and a virtuous
life were found. He published the lives of several
Catholics, and of one Sociniani, for the edification of
of Christians with regard to Prophecy,” I was fully convinced of what
I had long suspected : first, that the Montanists, in the second and third
centuries, were real scriptural Christians ; and secondly, that the grand
reason why the miraculous gifts were so soon withdrawn, was not only
that faith and holiness were well nigh lost, but that dry, formal, or-
thodox men began, even then, to ridicule whatever gifts they had not
themselves, and to decry them all, as either madness or imposture.”
He vindicated Servetus also. “Being,” he says, “in the Bodleian
Library, I light on Mr. Calvin's account of the case of Michael Ser-
vetus, several of whose letters he occasionally inserts, wherein Servetus
often declares in terms, ‘ I believe the Father is God, the Son is God,
and the Holy Ghost is God.” Mr. Calvin, however, paints him such a
monster as never was : an Arian, a blaphemer, and what not ; besides
strewing over him his flowers of dog, devil, swine, and so on, which
are the usual appellations he gives to his opponents. But still he ut-
terly denies his being the cause of Servetus's death. ‘No,' says he,
* I only advised our magistrates, as having..a right, to restrain heretics
by the sword, to seize upon and try that arch-heretic ; but, after he
was condemned, I said not one word about his execution.’”
He reverts to this subject in his Remarks upon a Tract by Dr. Erskine.
“ That Michael Servetus was ‘ one of the wildest Anti-Trinitarians
that ever appeared,’ is by no means clear. I doubt of it, on the autho-
rity of Calvin himself, who certainly was not prejudiced in his favour.
For, if Calvin does not misquote his words, he was no Anti-Trinitarian
at all. Calvin himself gives a quotation from one of his letters, in
which he expressly declares, ‘I do believe the Father is God, the Son
is God, and the Holy Ghost is God ; but I dare not use the word
Trinity, or person.' I dare, and I think them very good words ; but I
should think it very hard to be burnt alive for not using them, espe-
cially with a slow fire, made of moist green wood. I believe Calvin
was a great instrument of God ; and that he was a wise and pious man ;
but I cannot but advise those who love his memory, to let Servetus
alone.”—R. S.
* I scarcely understand the interest of the question respecting the
Romish being a true church for an enlightened Protestant of the
present day. I know of no church, Jewish, Turkish, or Brahman, in
which, and in spite of which, a man may not possibly be saved. Who
dares limit the Spirit of God P But if such salvation taking place, not
by, or with the aid of, but in spite of the system, presumes an Anti-
Christian church — them. Rome is Anti-Christ, though the Pascals and
Fénélons had been ten times decupled. — S. T. C.
f Thomas Firmin. Wesley prefaces the life of this good man, in his
Magazine, with these words: “I was exceedingly struck at reading the
following life, having long settled it in my mind, that the entertaining
wrong notions concerning the Trinity was inconsistent with real piety.
96 west EY’s DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS.
his followers. He believed not only that heathens,
who did their duty according to their knowledge, were
capable of eternal life; but even that a communion
with the spiritual world had sometimes been vouch-
safed them. Thus, he affirmed, that the demon of
Socrates was a ministering angel, and that Marcus
Antoninus * received good inspirations, as he has
asserted of himself. And where there was no such
individual excellence, as in these signal instances, he
refused to believe that any man could be precluded
from salvation by the accident of his birth-place.
Upon this point he vindicated divine justice, by con-
sidering the different relation in which the Almighty
stands to his creatures, as a creator, and as a gover-
nor. As a creator, he acts in all things according to
his own sovereign will: in that exercise of his power,
justice can have no place; for nothing is due to what
has no being. According, therefore, to his own good
pleasure, he allots the time, the place, the circum-
stances for the birth of each individual, and gives them
various degrees of understanding and of knowledge,
diversified in numberless ways. “It is hard to say
how far this extends: what an amazing difference
there is between one born and bred up in a pious
English family, and one born and bred among the
Hottentots. Only we are sure the difference cannot be
so great, as to necessitate one to be good, or the other
to be evil; to force one into everlasting glory, or the
But I cannot argue against matter of fact. I dare not deny that Mr.
Firmin was a pious man, although his notions of the Trinity were quite
errone.0llS.
* “I read to-day part of the meditations of Marcus Antoninus.
What a strange emperor and what a strange heathen 1–giving thanks
to God for all the good things he enjoyed 1 — in particular for his good
inspirations, and for twice revealing to him in dreams things whereby
he was cured of otherwise incurable distempers. I make no doubt
but this is one of those many who shall come from the East and the West,
and sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, while the children of the
kingdom, nominal Christians, are shut out. -
WESLEY'S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 97
other into everlasting burnings. For, as a governor,
the Almighty cannot possibly act according to his
own mere sovereign will ; but, as he has expressly
told us, according to the invariable rules both of
justice and mercy. Whatsoever, therefore, it hath
pleased Him to do of his sovereign pleasure as
Creator, He will judge the world in righteousness,
and every man therein, according to the strictest
justice. He will punish no man for doing any
thing which he could not possibly avoid ; neither
for omitting any thing which he could not possibly
do.” .
Wesley was sometimes led to profess a different doc-
trine, in consequence of discussing questions which
serve rather to sharpen the disputatious faculties than
to improve a Christian disposition. Thus he has
affirmed, in the Minutes of Corference, that a Hea-
then, a Papist, or a Church-of-England man, if they
die without being sanctified, according to his notions
of sanctification, cannot see the Lord. And to the
question, Can an unbeliever, whatever he be in other
respects, challenge any thing of God’s justice Pº the
answer is, “absolutely nothing but hell.” But the
humaner opinion was more congenial to his temper,
and in that better opinion he rested.
* Wesley might, and probably would, have vindicated himself from
inconsistency, by laying the stress on the words “challenge” and
“justice.” Had the question been, Dare we hope aught from God’s
mercy for an unbeliever, in other respects unpolluted, and having a
heart of love P — the answer might have been: If such there be,
doubtless. We may hope, though we are not authorised to promise. —
S. T. C.
VOL. IIa H
98
CHAPTER XXI.
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS.
IT is less surprising that Wesley should have obtained
so many followers, than that he should have organised
them so skilfully, and preserved his power over them,
without diminution, to the end of his long life.
Francis of Assissi, and Ignatius Loyola, would have
produced little effect, marvellous enthusiasts as they
were, unless their enthusiasm had been assisted and
directed by wiser heads. Wesley, who in so many
other respects may be compared to these great agents
in the Catholic world, stands far above them in this.
He legislated for the sect which he raised, and exer-
cised an absolute supremacy over his people. “The
power I have,” says he, “I 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.” That time never arrived. It was con-
venient for the society that he should be really as well
as ostensibly their head; and, however he may have
deceived himself, the love of power was a ruling pas-
sion in his mind.
The question was asked, at one of the Conferences,
what the power was which he exercised over all the
Methodists in Great Britain and Ireland. It was
evidently proposed that he might have an opportunity
of defining and asserting it. He began his reply by
premising, that Count Zinzendorf loved to keep all
things closely, but that he loved to do all things
openly, and would therefore tell them all he knew of
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 99
the matter. A few persons, at the beginning, came to
him in London, and desired him to advise and pray
with them: others did the same in various parts of the
kingdom, and they increased every where. “The de-
sire,” said he, “was on their part, not on 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, where, and how they should
meet; and to remove those whose life showed that they
had no desire to flee from the wrath to come. And
this power remained the same, whether people meeting
together were twelve, twelve hundred, or twelve thou-
sand.” In a short time some of these persons said
they would not sit under him for nothing, but would
subscribe quarterly. He made answer, that he would
have nothing, because he wanted nothing; for his
fellowship supplied him with all, and more than all,
he wanted. But they represented that money was
wanted to pay for the lease of the Foundry, and
for putting it in repair. Upon that ground he suf-
fered them to subscribe. “Then I asked,” said he,
“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 the stewards, and appointed to each
the distinct work wherein he was to help me as long
as I chose.” The same prescription he pleaded with
regard to his authority over the lay preachers. The
first of these offered to serve him as sons, as he should
think proper to direct. “Observe,” said he, “these
likewise desired me, not I them. And here commenced
my power to appoint each of these, when, where, and
how to labour; that is, while he chose to continue
H 2
100 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS.
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 tellany,
if I saw cause, ‘I do not desire your help any longer.’
On these terms, and no other, we joined at first; on
these we continue joined. They do me no favour in
being directed by me. It is true my reward is with
the Lord; but at present I have nothing from it but
trouble and care, and often a burden I scarce know
how to bear.”
His power over the Conference he rested upon the
same plea of prescription ; but it had originated with
himself; not like his authority over the preachers and
the laity, in a voluntary offer of obedience. He, of
his own impulse, had invited several clergymen, who
acted with him, and all the lay preachers who at
that time served him as sons in the gospel, to meet
and advise with him. “ They did not desire the meet-
ing,” said he, “but I did, knowing that, in a multitude
of counsellors there is safety. And when their num-
ber 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 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 which the
providence of God had cast upon me, without any de-
sign 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
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 101
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 pro-
vidence of God, and for the good of the people, that I
at first accepted this power, which I never sought;
nay, a hundred times laboured to throw off; so it is
on the same considerations, not for profit, honour, or
pleasure, that I use it at this day.” -
In reference to himself, as the person in whom the
whole and sole authority was vested, Wesley called
his preachers by the name of helpers; and designated
as assistants those among them who, for the duties
which they discharge, have since been denominated
superintendents. It soon became expedient to divide
the country into circuits. There were, in the year
1749, twenty in England, two in Wales, two in Scot-
land, and seven in Ireland. In 1791, the year of Mr.
Wesley's death, they had increased to seventy-two in
England, three in Wales, seven in Scotland, and
twenty-eight in Ireland. Every circuit had a certain
number of preachers appointed to it, more or less,
according to its extent, under an assistant, whose
office it was to admit or expel members, take lists of
the societies at Easter, hold quarterly meetings, visit
the classes quarterly, keep watch-nights and love-
feasts, superintend the other preachers, and regulate
the whole business of the circuit, spiritual and tem-
poral. -
The helpers were not admitted indiscriminately:
gifts, as well as grace for the work, were required. An
aspirant was first examined concerning his theological
knowledge, that it might be seen whether his opinions
were sound: he was then to exhibit his gift of utter-
ance, by preaching before Mr. Wesley; and afterwards
to give, either orally or in writing, his reasons for
thinking that he was called of God to the ministry.
The best proof of this was, that some persons should
H 3
102 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS.
have been convinced of sin, and converted by his
preaching. If a right belief and a ready utterance
were found, and these fruits had followed, the concur-
rence of the three marks was deemed sufficient evi-
dence of a divine call: he was admitted on probation;
with a caution, that he was not to ramble up and
down, but to go where the assistant should direct, and
there only; and, at the ensuing conference, he might
be received into full connection. After a while the
time of probation was found too short, and was ex-
tended to four years.
The rules of a helper are strikingly characteristic of
Wesley, both in their manner and their spirit.
“1. 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.
2. Be serious. Let your motto be, Holiness to the
Lord. Avoid all lightness, jesting, and foolish talking.
3. Converse sparingly and cautiously with women;
particularly with young women in private.
4. Take no step towards marriage without first
acquainting us with your design.
5. Believe evil of no one ; unless you see it done,
take heed how you credit it. Put the best construc-
tion on every thing: you know the judge is always
supposed to be on the prisoner's side.
6. Speak evil of no one; else your word, especially,
would eat as doth a canker. Keep your thoughts
within your own breast, till you come to the person
concerned.
7. Tell every one what you think wrong in him,
and that plainly, and as soon as may be, else it will
fester in your heart. Make all haste to cast the fire
out of your bosom.
8. Do not affect the gentleman. You have no more
to do with this character than with that of a dancing-
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 103
master. A preacher of the gospel is the servant
of all.
9. Be ashamed of nothing but sin; not of fetching
wood (if time permit) or of drawing water; not of
cleaning your own shoes, or your neighbour's.”
10. Be punctual. Do every thing exactly at the
time: and, in general, do not mend our rules, but keep
them ; not for wrath, but for conscience sake.
11. You have nothing to do but to save souls.
Therefore spend and be spent in this work. And go
always, not only to those who want you, but to those
who want you most.
12. Act in all things, not according to your own
will, but as a son in the gospel. As such, it is your
part to employ your time in the manner which we
direct; partly in preaching and visiting the flock from
house to house ; partly in reading, meditation, and
prayer. Above all, if you labour with us in our Lord's
vineyard, it is needful that you should do that part
of the work which we advise, at those times and places
which we judge most for his glory.”
Thus did Wesley, who had set so bad an example
of obedience, exact it from his own followers as rigidly
as the founder of a monastic order. Like those
founders, also, he invited his disciples to enter upon
a course of life which it required no small degree of
* “Respecting these golden rules,” says Mr. Crowther, “it may be
proper to observe, ‘ affecting the gentleman’ was not designed to coun-
tenance clownishness, or any thing contrary to true Christian courtesy.
And when it is said, a preacher of the gospel is the servant of all, it
certainly was not meant to insinuate that a preacher was to be set to
do the lowest and most slavish drudgery which any person could find
for him to do. I presume, the servant of God is the servant of all in
gospel labours, and in nothing else. And though he may not be
ashamed of cleaning his own shoes, or the shoes of others, yet, I ap-
prehend, they ought to be ‘ashamed’ who would expect or suffer him
so to do, especially such as are instructed and profited by his ministerial
labours. And surely they ought to feel some shame also, who would
suffer the preacher to go from place to place, day after day, with his
shoes and boots uncleaned.”— Portraiture of Methodism, p. 277.
H 4
104 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS.
enthusiasm and of resolution to embrace. The labour
was hard, the provision scanty, and the prospect for
those who were superannuated, or worn out in the
service, was, on this side the grave, as cheerless as it
well could be. When a preacher was admitted into
full connection, he paid one guinea, and from that
time half-a-guinea annually, toward the preachers'
fund. If he withdrew from the connection, all that
he had subscribed was returned to him ; but if he
lived to be disabled, he received from the fund an an-
nuity, which should not be less than ten pounds; and
his widow was entitled to a sum, according to the
exigence of the case, but not exceeding forty.
Some of the itinerant preachers, at one time, entered
into trade: the propriety of this was discussed in Con-
ference: it was pronounced evil in itself, and in its
consequences, and they were advised to give up every
business, except the ministry, to which they were
pledged. There was another more easy and tempting
way of eking out their scanty stipends, by printing
their own spiritual effusions, and availing themselves
of the opportunities afforded, by the system of itiner-
ancy, for selling them. But Mr. Wesley was himself
a most voluminous author and compiler: the profits
arising from his publications were applied in aid of
the expenses of the society, which increased faster
than their means: the Methodists, for the most part,
had neither time to spare for reading, nor money for
books; and the preachers, who consulted their own
individual advantage, in this manner, injured the
general fund, in proportion as they were successful;
it was therefore determined, in Conference, that no
preacher should print any thing without Mr. Wesley's
consent, nor till it had been corrected by him. The
productions which some of them had set forth, both in
verse and prose, were censured as having brought a
great reproach upon the society, and “much hindered
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 105
the spreading of more profitable books;” and a regu-
lation was made, that the profits, even of those which
might be approved and licensed by the founder, should
go into the common stock. But with regard to those
which he himself had published for the benefit of the
society, and some of which, he said, ought to be in
every house, Wesley charged the preachers to exert
themselves in finding sale for them. “Carry them
with you,” said he, “through every round. Exert
yourselves in this: be not ashamed ; be not weary;
leave no stone unturned.” Being cut off from the re-
sources of authorship, some of them began to quack *
for the body as well as the soul; and this led to a de-
cision in Conference, that no preacher, who would not
relinquish his trade of making and vending pills,
drops, balsams, or medicines of any kind, should be
considered as a travelling preacher any longer. If
their wives sold these things at home, it was said to
be well; “but it is not proper for any preacher to
hawk them about. It has a bad appearance: it does
not well suit the dignity of his calling.”
They were restricted also from many indulgences.
It was not in Wesley's power, because of the age and
country in which he lived, to bind his preachers to a
prescribed mode of living by an absolute rule; but he
attempted to effect it, as far as circumstances would
allow. They were on no account to touch snuff, nor
to taste spirituous liquors on any pretence. “Do
you,” said he, “deny yourselves every useless pleasure
of sense, imagination, honour? Are you temperate in
all things? To take one instance, in food, - Do you
use only that kind, and that degree, which is best both
* The Baptists used to tolerate such quackery in their ministers.
Crosby, in his history of that sect, contrived to inform the reader, that
he continued to prepare and sell a certain wonderful tincture, and cer-
tain sugar-plumbs for children, “which have been found to bring from
them many strange and monstrous worms.”—Vol. iii. p. 147.
106 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTs.
for the body and soul? Do you see the necessity of
this? Do you eat no flesh suppers? no late suppers?
These naturally tend to destroy bodily health. Do you
eat only three meals a-day ? If four, are you not an
excellent pattern to the flock P Do you take no more
food than is necessary at each meal? You may know
if you do, by a load at your stomach; by drowsiness
or heaviness; and, in a while, by weak or bad nerves.
Do you use only that kind and that degree of drink
which is best both for your body and soul? Do you
drinkwater? Why not ? Did you ever? Why did you
leave it off, if not for health P When will you begin
again 2 to-day ? How often do you drink wine or ale?
Every day ? Do you want, or waste it 7” He de-
clared his own purpose, of eating only vegetables on
Fridays, and taking only toast and water in the
morning; and he expected the preachers to observe
the same kind of fast.
The course of life which was prescribed for the
preachers left them little opportunity for the enjoy-
ment of domestic life. Home could scarcely be re-
garded as a resting-place by men who were never
allowed to be at rest. Wesley insisted upon a frequent
and regular change of preachers, because he well
knew that the attention of the people was always
excited by a new performer in the pulpit. “I know,”
said he, “were I to preach one whole year in one
place, I should preach both myself and my congrega-
tion asleep. Nor can I believe it was ever the will of
the Lord that any congregation should have one
teacher only. We have found, by long and constant
experience, that a frequent change of teachers is best.
This preacher has one talent, that another. No one
whom I ever yet knew has all the talents which are
needful for beginning, continuing, and perfecting the
work of grace in a whole congregation.” The insti-
tutions of the Jesuits allowed an itinerant father of the
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 107
company to remain three months in a place, unless
any other term were specified in his instructions: but
Wesley went farther, and thought it injurious, both
to the preacher and people, if one of his itinerants
should stay six or eight weeks together in one place.
“Neither,” said he, “can he find matter for preaching
every morning and evening; nor will the people come
to hear him. Hence he grows cold by lying in bed,
and so do the people: whereas, if he never stays more
than a fortnight together in one place, he may find
matter enough, and the people will gladly hear him.”
These frequent changes were so gratifying to the
people, that the trustees of a meeting-house once ex-
pressed an apprehension lest the Conference should
impose one preacher on them for many years; and, to
guard against this, a provision was inserted in the
deed, that “the same preacher should not be sent,
ordinarily, above one, never above two years toge-
ther.” There may, perhaps, have been another mo-
tive in Wesley's mind: a preacher, who found himself
comfortably settled, with a congregation to whom he
had made himself agreeable, might be induced to take
root there, throw off his dependence upon the con-
nection, and set up a meeting of his own. Instances
of such defection were not wanting, and the frequent
change * of preachers was the likeliest means of pre-
venting them.
No preacher, according to a rule laid down by
Conference, was to preach oftener than twice on a
week-day, or three times on the Sabbath. One of
these sermons was always to be at five in the morning,
whenever twenty hearers could be brought together.
As the apostolic Eliot used to say to students, Look
to it that ye be morning birds! so Wesley continually
* “The people,” says Mr. Crowther, “ought to get great good from
the constant change of the preachers; for, to the preachers, it is pro-
ductive of many inconveniences and painful exercises.”
108 DISCIPLINE OF THE METRIODISTS.
inculcated the duty of early rising, as equally good
for body and soul. “It helps the nerves,” he said,
“better than a thousand medicines; and especially
preserves the sight, and prevents lowness of spirits.
Early preaching,” he said, “is the glory of the Metho-
dists. Whenever this is dropt, they will dwindle *
away into nothing.” He advised his preachers to be-
gin and end always precisely at the time appointed,
and always to conclude the service in about an hour;
to suit their subject to the audience, to choose the
plainest texts, and keep close to the text; neither
rambling from it, nor allegorising, nor spiritualising
too much. More than once, in his Journal, he has
recorded the death of men who were martyrs to long
and loud preaching, and he frequently cautioned his
followers against it. To one of them he says, in a
curious letter of advice, which he desired might be
taken as the surest mark of love, “Scream no more,
at the peril of your soul. God now warns you by me,
* The importance which he attached to this custom appears in his
Journal. “I was surprised when I came to Chester, to find that there
also morning preaching was quite left off; for this worthy reason, be-
cause the people will not come, or, at least not in the winter: if so, the
Methodists are a fallen people. Here is proof: they have lost their first
love ; and they never will or can recover it till they do their first works.
As soon as I set foot in Georgia, I began preaching at five in the
morning; and every communicant, that is, every serious person in the
town, constantly attended throughout the year: I mean, came every
morning, winter and summer, unless in the case of sickness. They did
so till I left the province. In the year 1738, when God began his great
work in England, I began preaching at the same hour, winter and
summer, and never wanted a congregation. If they will not attend
now, they have lost their zeal, and then, it cannot be denied, they are
a fallen people ; and, in the mean time, we are labouring to secure the
preaching-houses to the next generation In the name of God, let us,
if possible, secure the present generation from drawing back to per-
dition. Let all the preachers, that are still alive to God, join together
as one man, fast and pray, lift up their voice as a trumpet, be instant,
in season, out of season, to convince them they are fallen, and exhort
them instantly to repent and do the first works ; this in particular, rising
in the morning, without which neither their souls nor bodies can long
Temain in health.”
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 109
whom he has set over you. Speak as earnestly as you
can, but do not scream. Speak with all your heart,
but with a moderate voice. It was said of our Lord,
‘He shall not cry:’ the word properly means, “He
shall not scream.’ Herein be a follower of me, as I
am of Christ. I often speak loud, often vehemently;
but I never scream. I never strain myself: I dare not.
I know it would be a sin against God and my own
soul.” They were instructed also not to pray above
eight or ten minutes at most, without intermission,
unless for some pressing reason. - -
Before an aspirant was admitted upon trial as an
itinerant, he was exercised as a local preacher; and
many persons remained contentedly in this humbler
office, which neither took them from their families,
nor interfered with their worldly concerns. They
carried on their business, whatever that might be, six
days in the week, and preached on the seventh : but
no person was admitted to this rank, unless he were
thought competent by the preachers of the circuit.
The places which they were to visit were determined
by the assistant, and their conduct underwent an in-
quiry every quarter. Without their aid, Methodism
could not have been kept up over the whole country,
widely as it was diffused; and all that they received
from the society was a little refreshment, at the cost
of the people to whom they preached, and perhaps the
hire of a horse for the day.
A still more important part was performed by the
leaders, who are to Methodism what the non-com-
missioned officers are in an army. The leader was
appointed by the assistant: it was his business regu-
larly to meet his class, question them, in order, as to
their religious affections and practice, and advise,
caution, or reprove, as the case might require. If
any members absented themselves from the class-meet-
ing, he was to visit them, and inquire into the cause ;
110 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS.
and he was to render an account to the officiating
preacher, of those whose conduct appeared suspicious,
or was in any way reprehensible. By this means, and
by the class-paper for every week, which the leaders
were required to keep, and regularly produce, the
preachers obtained a knowledge of every individual
member within their circuit; and, by the class-tickets,
which were renewed every quarter, a regular census
of the society was effected. The leaders not only per-
formed the office of drilling the young recruits, they
acted also as the tax-gatherers, and received the
weekly contributions, of their class, which they paid
to the local stewards, and the local stewards to the
steward of the circuit.
Thus far the discipline of the Methodists was well
devised: if the system itself had been unexceptionable,
the spiritual police was perfect. But they were
divided into bands as well as classes; and this subdi-
vision, while it answered no one end of possible utility,
led to something worse than the worst practice of the
Romish church. The men and the women, and the
married and the single, met separately in these bands,
for the purpose of confessing to each other. They
engaged to meet once a-week at least, and to speak,
each in order, freely and plainly, the true state of their
souls, with the faults they had committed, in thought,
word, or deed, and the temptations they had felt
during the week. They were to be asked “as many
and as searching questions as may be, concerning their
state, sins, and temptations;” these four, in particu-
lar, at every meeting: What known sin have you
committed since our last meeting 2 What temptations
have you met with ? How was you delivered? What
have you thought, said, or done, of which you doubt
whether it be sin or not? And before any person en-
tered into one of these bands, a promise of the most
unreserved openness was required. “Consider, do
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 1 il
you desire we should tell you whatsoever we think,
whatsoever we fear, whatsoever we hear, concerning
you ? Do you desire that, in doing this, we should
come as close as possible, that we should cut to the
quick, and search your heart to the bottom ? Is it
your desire and design to be, on this and all other oc-
casions, entirely open, so as to speak every thing that
is in your heart, without exception, without disguise,
and without reserve?” The nature, and the inevitable
tendency of this mutual inquisition, must be obvious
to every reflecting mind: and it is marvellous, that
any man should have permitted his wife’ or his
daughter to enter into these bands, where it is not
possible for innocence to escape contamination.f
The institution of the select society or band was
not liable to the same objection. This was to consist
of persons who were earnestly athirst for the full
image of God, and of those who continually walked in
the light of God, having fellowship with the Father
and the Son: in other words, of those who had at-
tained to such a degree of spiritual pride, that they
* Wesley has himself recorded an instance of mischief arising from
these bands. “I searched to the bottom,” says he, “a story I had
heard in part, and found it another tale of real woe. Two of our
society had lived together in uncommon harmony, when one, who met
in band with E. F., to whom she had mentioned that she had found a
temptation toward Dr. F., went and told her husband she was in love
with him, and that she had it from her own mouth. The spirit of
jealousy seized him in a moment, and utterly took away his reason.
And some one telling him his wife was at Dr. F.’s, on whom she had
called that afternoon, he took a great stick, and ran away, and meeting
her in the street, called out, Strumpet ! strumpet ! and struck her twice
or thrice. He is now thoroughly convinced of her innocence ; but the
water cannot be gathered up again. He sticks there—‘I do thoroughly
forgive you, but I can never love you more.'” After such an example,
Wesley ought to have abolished this part of his institutions.
f In one of his letters, Wesley says, “I believe Miss F. thought she
felt evil before she did, and by that very thought, gave occasion to its
re-entrance.” And yet he did not perceive the danger of leading his
people into temptation, by making them recur to every latent thought
of evil; and compelling them to utter, with their lips, imaginations
which might otherwise have been suppressed within their hearts for ever !
112 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS.
professed to be in this state, – the adepts of Method-
ism, who were not ashamed to take their degree as
perfect. “I saw,” says Mr. Wesley, “it might be
useful to give some advice to those who thus continued
in the light of God's countenance, which the rest of
their brethren did not want, and probably could not
receive. My design was not only to direct them how
to press after perfection, to exercise their every grace,
and improve every talent they had received, and to
incite them to love one another more, and to watch
more carefully over each other; but also to have a
select company, to whom I might unbosom myself on
all occasions, without reserve; and whom I could pro-
pose, to all their brethren, as patterns of love, of
holiness, and of all good works. They had no need of
being encumbered with many rules, having the best
rule of all in their hearts.” Nevertheless, the judicious
injunction was given them, that nothing which was
spoken at their meetings should be spoken again.
Wesley says, he often felt the advantage of these
meetings, experienced there, that in the multitude of
counsellors there is safety. But they placed the un-
tenable doctrine of perfection in so obtrusive and
obnoxious a light, that he found it difficult to main-
tain them; and they seem not to have become a regu-
lar part of the system. g
The watch-night was another of Wesley's objec-
tionable institutions. It originated with some re-
claimed colliers of Kingswood, who, having been
accustomed to sit late on Saturday nights at the ale-
house, transferred their weekly meeting, after their
conversion, to the school-house, and continued there
praying and singing hymns far into the morning.
Wesley was advised to put an end to this: but,
“upon weighing the thing thoroughly, and com-
paring it with the practice of the ancient Christians,”
he could see no cause to forbid it; because he over-
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 113
looked the difference between their times and his
own, and shut his eyes to the obvious impropriety of
midnight meetings. So he appointed them to be
held once a month, near the time of full moon.
“Exceedingly great,” says he, “are the blessings we
have found therein; it has generally been an ex-
tremely solemn season, when the word of God sunk
deep into the hearts even of those who till then knew
him not. If it be said, this was only owing to the
novelty of the thing, (the circumstance which still
draws such multitudes together at those seasons,) or
perhaps to the aweful stillness of the night, I am not
careful to answer in this matter. Be it so : however,
the impression then made on many souls has never
since been effaced. Now, allowing that God did
make use either of the novelty, or any other indif.
ferent circumstance, in order to bring sinners to re-
pentance, yet they are brought, and herein let us
rejoice together. Now, may I not put the case far-
ther yet 2 If I can probably conjecture, that either
by the novelty of this ancient custom, or by any other
indifferent circumstance, it is in my power to save a
soul from death, and hide a multitude of sins, am I
clear before God if I do not ?—if I do not snatch that
brand out of the burning P’’
The practice which Wesley thus revived had been
discountenanced, even in the most superstitious Ca-
tholic countries, for its inconvenience, and its mani-
fest ill tendency; and therefore it had long been dis-
used. While the converts to his doctrine retained the
freshness of their first impression, watch-nights served
to keep up the feeling to the pitch at which he wished
to maintain it; and if any person, who was almost a
Methodist, attended one of these meetings, the cir-
cumstances were likely to complete his conversion.
For the sake of these advantages, Wesley disregarded
the scandal which this part of his institutions was
VOL. II. I
114 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTs.
sure to occasion ; and he seems not to have con-
sidered the effect among his own people, when their
first fervour should have abated, and the vigils be
attended as a mere formality. He also appointed
three love-feasts in a quarter: one for the men, a
second for the women, and the third for both together;
“that we might together eat bread,” he says, “as the
ancient Christians did, with gladness and singleness
of heart. At these love-feasts (so we termed them,
retaining the name, as well as the thing, which was
in use from the beginning,) our food is only a little
plain cake and water; but we seldom return from
them without being fed not only with the meat which
perisheth, but with that which endureth to everlasting
life.” A travelling preacher presides at these meet-
ings: any one who chooses may speak; and the time
is chiefly employed in relating what they call their
Christian experience. In this point, also, Mr. Wesley
disregarded the offence which he gave, by renewing
a practice that had notoriously been abolished, because
of the abuses to which it led.
It cannot be supposed that a man of his sagacity
should have overlooked the objections to which such
meetings as the watch-nights and the love-feasts were
obnoxious: his temper led him to despise and to defy
public opinion; and he saw how well these practices
accorded with the interests of Methodism as a sepa-
rate society. It is not sufficient for such a society
that its members should possess a calm, settled prin-
ciple of religion to be their rule of life and their sup-
port in trial: religion must be made a thing of sen-
sation and passion, craving perpetually for sympathy
and stimulants, instead of bringing with it peace and
contentment. The quiet regularity of domestic de-
votion must be exchanged for public performances;
the members are to be professors of religion ; they
must have a part to act, which will at once gratify
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 115
the sense of self-importance, and afford employment
for the uneasy and restless spirit with which they are
possessed. Wesley complained that family religion
was the grand desideratum among the Methodists;
but, in reality, his institutions were such as to leave
little time for it, and to take away the inclination, by
making it appear flat and unprofitable, after the ex-
citement of class-meetings, band-meetings, love-feasts,
and midnight assemblies.
Whenever a chapel was built, care was taken that
it should be settled on the Methodist plan; that is,
that the property should be vested, not in trustees,
but in Mr. Wesley and the Conference. The usual
form among the dissenters would have been fatal to
the general scheme of Methodism; “because,” said
Wesley, “wherever the trustees exert the power of
placing and displacing preachers, there itinerant
preaching is no more. When they have found a
preacher they like, the rotation is at an end; at least
till they are tired of him, and turn him out. While
he stays, the bridle is in his mouth. He would not
dare speak the full and the whole truth; since, if he
displeased the trustees, he would be liable to lose his
bread; nor would he dare expel a trustee, though
ever so ungodly, from the society. The power of the
trustees is greater than that of any patron, or of the
king himself, who could put in a preacher, but could
not put him out.” Thus he argued, when a chapel at
Birstall had been erroneously settled upon trustees;
and the importance of the point was felt so strongly
by the Conference, that it was determined, in case
these persons would not allow the deed to be can-
celled, and substitute one upon the Methodist plan,
to make a collection throughout the society, for the
purpose of purchasing ground, and building another
chapel, as near the one in question as possible.
Wesley never wished to have any chapel or burial-
I 2
116 IDISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS.
ground consecrated: such ceremonies he thought
relics of popery, and flatly superstitious. The im-
possibility of having them consecrated, led him, per-
haps, to consider the ceremony in this light, at a
time when he had not proceeded so far as to exercise
any ecclesiastical function for which he was not pro-
perly authorised. The buildings themselves were of
the plainest kind: it was difficult to raise money *
even for these; but Mr. Wesley had the happy art of
representing that as a matter of principle, which was
a matter of necessity; and, in the tastelessness of their
chapels, the Methodists were only upon a level with
the dissenters of every description. The octagoni,
which, of all architectural forms, is the ugliest, he
* The history of one of these chapels, at Sheerness, is curious. “It
is now finished,” says Wesley, in his Journal for 1786, “but by means
never heard of. The building was undertaken, a few months since, by
a little handful of men, without any probable means of finishing it:
but God so moved the hearts of the people in the dock, that even
those who did not pretend to any religion, carpenters, shipwrights,
labourers, ran up at all their vacant hours, and worked with all their
might, without any pay. By these means a large square house was
soon elegantly finished, both within and without. And it is the neatest
building, next to the new chapel in London, of any in the south of
England.”
A meeting-house at Haslinden, in Lancashire, was built for them on
speculation, by a person not connected with the society in any way.
He desired only three per cent. for what he laid out, (about 800l.) pro-
vided the seats let for so much ; of which, says Wesley, there is little
doubt. This was in 1788.
f His predilection for this form seems to have arisen from a sight of
the Unitarian meeting-house at Norwich, “perhaps,” he says, “ the
most elegant one in Europe. It is eight-square, built of the finest brick,
with sixteen sash windows below, as many above, and eight sky-lights
in the dome, which, indeed, are purely ornamental. The inside is
finished in the highest taste, and is as clean as any nobleman's saloon.
The communion-table is fine mahogany: the very latches of the pew
doors are polished brass. How can it be thought that the old coarse
Gospel should find admission here P” The sort of humility which is
implied in this sneer, is well charactered by Landor, when he calls it
“A tattered garb that pride wears when deform’d.”
It is no wonder that he was struck by the cleanness of the chapel.
This curious item occurs in the minutes of Conference for 1776.
“ Q. 23. Complaint is made that sluts spoil our houses. How can we
prevent this? A. Let no known slut live in any of them.”
IDISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 117
preferred to any other, and wished it to be used
wherever the ground would permit: but it has not
been generally followed. The directions were, that
the windows should be sashes, opening downwards;
that there should be no tub-pulpits, and no backs to
the seats; and that the men and women should sit
apart. A few years before his death, the committee
in London proposed to him that families should sit
together, and that private pews might be erected;
“thus,” he exclaims, “overthrowing, at one blow,
the discipline which I have been establishing for fifty
years!” But, upon farther consideration, they yielded
to his opinion.
He prided himself upon the singing in his meeting-
houses: there was a talent in his family both for
music and verse; and he availed himself, with great
judgement, of both. A collection of hymns was pub-
lished for the society, some few of which were selected
from various authors; some were his own composition;
but far the greater part were by his brother Charles.
Perhaps no poems have ever been so devoutly com-
mitted to memory as these, nor quoted so often upon
a death-bed. The manner in which they were sung
tended to impress them strongly on the mind: the
tune was made wholly subservient to the words, not
the words to the tune.
The Romanists are indebted for their church-music
to the Benedictines, an order to which all Europe is
so deeply indebted for many things. Our fine cathe-
dral service is derived from them: may it continue
for ever ! The psalmody of our churches was a po-
pular innovation, during the first years of the Re-
formation; and the psalms of Sternhold and Hopkins
were allowed" to be sung, not enjoined. The prac-
* “Those who have searched into the matter with the utmost care
and curiosity,” says Collier, (vol. ii. 326.) “ could never discover any
authority, either from the crown or the convocation.”
I 3
118 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS.
tice, however, obtained; and having contributed in
no slight measure to the religious revolution when
the passion wherein it originated was gone by, it
became a mere interlude in the service, serving no
other purpose than that of allowing a little breathing-
time to the minister; and the manner in which this
interval is filled, where there is no organ to supply
the want of singers, or cover their defects, is too often
irreverent and disgraceful. Aware of the great ad-
vantage to be derived from psalmody, and with an
ear, as well as an understanding, alive to its abuse,
Wesley made it an essential part of the devotional
service in his chapels; and he triumphantly con-
trasted the practice of his people, in this respect,
with that of the churches. “ Their solemn addresses
to God,” said he, “are not interrupted either by the
formal drawl of a parish-clerk, the screaming of boys,
who bawl out what they neither feel nor understand,
or the unseasonable and unmeaning impertinence of
a voluntary on the organ.* When it is seasonable to
sing praise to God, they do it with the spirit and the
understanding also ; not in the miserable, Scandalous
doggerell of Hopkins and Sternholdf, but in psalms
and hymns, which are both sense and poetry, such as
would sooner provoke a critic to turn Christian, than
a Christian to turn critic. What they sing is there-
fore a proper continuation of the spiritual and rea-
* Yet Wesley has noticed, that he once found at church an uncom-
mon blessing, when he least of all expected it ; namely, “while the
organist was playing a voluntary.”—R. S.
t I have lately looked into Hopkins and Sternhold ; and though I can-
not pretend that it is not “coarse frieze,” or that a more dignified metrical
version is not a desideratum ; yet I do say, that it does not merit the
harsh description of “miserable, scandalous doggerell,” and that Stern-
hold and Hopkins are David and Asoph themselves, compared with
Tate and Brady. There is assuredly a becoming dignity in the having
the Scripture itself sung, that fits a national church; but yet I cannot
blind myself to the superior edification and geneality of Christian hymns,
especially such as are David Evangilizans, i.e. the psalms interpreted.—
S. T. C
DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 119
sonable service, being selected for that end; not by a
poor hum-drum wretch, who can scarcely read what
he drones out with such an air of importance, but by
One who knows what he is about, and how to connect
the preceding with the following part of the service.
Nor does he take just “two staves;' but more or less,
as may best raise the soul to God; especially when
sung in well-composed and well-adapted tunes; not
by a handful of wild unawakened striplings, but by a
whole serious congregation; and these not lolling at
ease, or in the indecent posture of sitting, drawling
out one word after another; but all standing before
God, and praising him lustily, and with a good cou-
rage.” He especially enjoined that the whole con-
gregation should sing, that there should be no repe-
tition of words, no dwelling upon disjointed syllables,
and that they should not sing in parts, but with one
heart and voice, in One simultaneous and uninter-
rupted feeling.” §
The preachers were forbidden to introduce any
hymns of their own composing: in other respects
they had great latitude allowed them: they might
use the Liturgy, if they pleased, or an abridgement of
it, which Mr. Wesley had set forth; or they might
discard it altogether, and substitute an extempora-
neous service, according to their own taste and that
of the congregation. Like the Jesuits, in this respect,
they were to adapt themselves to all men. The ser-
vice was not long: Wesley generally concluded it
within the hour.
* This feeling, however, must have been disturbed in a strange
manner, if the preachers observed the directions of the first Conference,
to guard against formality in singing, by often stopping short, and ask-
ing the people, “Now, do you know what you said last? Did you
speak no more than you felt? Did you sing it as unto the Lord, with
the spirit and with the understanding also P”
I 4
120
CHAPTER XXII.
METHODISM IN WALES AND IN SCOTLAND.
UPON Wesley's first journey into Wales, he thought
that most of the inhabitants were indeed ripe for the
Gospel. “I mean,” says he, “if the expression ap-
pear strange, they are earnestly desirous of being
instructed in it; and as utterly ignorant of it they
are as any Creek or Cherokee Indian. I do not mean
they are ignorant of the name of Christ: many of
them can say both the Lord's Prayer and the Belief;
nay, and some all the Catechism: but take them out
of the road of what they have learned by rote, and
they know no more (nine in ten of those with whom
I conversed) either of Gospel salvation, or of that
faith whereby alone we can be saved, than Chicali or
Tomo Chachi.” This opinion was formed during a
journey through the most civilised part of South
Wales. He was not deceived in judging that the
Welsh were a people highly susceptible of such im-
pressions as he designed to make; but he found him-
self disabled in his progress, by his ignorance of their
language. “Oh,” he exclaims, “what a heavy curse
was the confusion of tongues, and how grievous are
the effects of it. All the birds of the air, all the
beasts of the field, understand the language of their
own species; man only is a barbarian to man, unin-
telligible to his own brethren l’’ This difficulty was
insuperable. He found, however, a few Welsh clergy-
men, who entered into his views with honest ardour,
and an extravagance of a new kind grew up in their
congregations. After the preaching was over, any
one who pleased gave out a verse of a hymn; and
METHODISM IN WALES AND SCOTLAND. 121
this they sung over and over again, with all their
might and main, thirty or forty times, till some of
them worked themselves into a sort of drunkenness
or madness: they were then violently agitated, and
leaped up and down, in all manner of postures, fre-
quently for hours together. “I think,” says Wesley,
“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 by their simplicity, in order to wear
them out, and to bring a discredit on the work of
God.” This was the beginning of the Jumpers.”
Ralph and Ebenezer Erskine, the remarkable men
who made the secession from the Scotch church, in-
vited Whitefield into Scotland, before his breach with
Wesley. Accordingly, in the year 1741, he accepted
the invitation; and thinking it proper that they
should have the first-fruits of his ministry in that
kingdom, preached his first sermon in the seceding
meeting-house belonging to Ralph Erskine, at Dun-
fermline. The room was thronged; and when he had
named his text, the rustling which was made by the
congregation opening their bibles all at Once surprised
him, who had never, till then, witnessed a similar
practice. A few days afterwards he met the Associate
Presbytery of the Seceders, by their own desire; a set
of grave, venerable men. They soon proposed to form
themselves into a presbytery, and were proceeding to
choose a moderator, when Mr. Whitefield asked them
for what purpose this was to be done : they made
answer, it was to discourse and set him right about
the matter of church government, and the solemn
* “At seven in the morning,” says Whitefield, “have I seen per-
haps ten thousand, from different parts, in the midst of a sermon,
crying, Gogunmiant bendyitti, ready to leap for joy.” Had they been
reprehended at that time, this extravagant folly might have been
prevented. -
122 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
league and covenant. Upon this Mr. Whitefield
observed, they might save themselves the trouble, for
he had no scruples about it; and that settling church
government, and preaching about the solemn league
and covenant, was not his plan. And then he gave
them some account of the history of his own mind,
and the course of action in which he was engaged.
This, however, was not satisfactory to the Associate
Presbytery, though one of the synod apologised for
him, urging that, as he had been born and bred in
England, and had never studied the point, he could
not be supposed to be perfectly acquainted with the
nature of their covenants, and therefore they ought
to have patience with him. This was of no avail: it
was answered, that no indulgence could be shown
him; for England had revolted most with respect to
church government, and that he could not but be ac-
quainted with the matter in debate. It was a new
thing for Whitefield, who had been accustomed to
receive homage wherever he went, to be schooled in
this manner; but he bore this arrogant behaviour with
great complacency, and replied, that indeed he never
yet had studied the solemn league and covenant, be-
cause he had been too busy about things which, in his
judgement, were of greater importance. Several of
them then cried out, that every pin of the tabernacle
was precious. Whitefield was ready in reply: he told
them that, in every building, there were outside and
inside workmen; that the latter was at that time his
province; and that, if they thought themselves called to
the former, they might proceed in their own way, as
he would do in his. The power of these persons,
happily, was not so inquisitorial as their disposition;
and when he seriously asked them what they wished
him to do, they answered, that they did not desire
him immediately to subscribe to the solemn league
and covenant, but that he would preach for them
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 123
exclusively till he had farther light. “And why for
them alone?” he inquired. Ralph Erskine made an-
swer, “They were the Lord's people.” “I then,” says
Whitefield, “asked, whether there were no other
Lord's people but themselves 2 and, supposing all
others were the Devil's people, they certainly, I told
them, had more need to be preached to ; and there-
fore I was more and more determined to go out into
the highways and hedges; and that if the Pope him-
self would lend me his pulpit, I would gladly proclaim
the righteousness of Jesus Christ therein. Soon after
this the company broke up ; and one of these other-
wise venerable men immediately went into the meet-
ing-house, and preached upon these words: “Watch-
man, what of the night P Watchman, what of the
night 2 The watchman said, The morning cometh,
and also the night; if ye will enquire, enquire ye;
return, come.’ I attended: but the good man so
spent himself, in the former part of his sermon, in
talking against prelacy, the common prayer-book,
the surplice, the rose in the hat, and such like
externals, that, when he came to the latter part of his
text, to invite poor sinners to Jesus Christ, his breath
was so gone, that he could scarce be heard. What a
pity that the last was not first, and the first last!
The consequence of all this was an open breach. I
retired, I wept, I prayed, and, after preaching in the
fields, sate down and dined with them, and then took
a final leave.* At table, a gentlewoman said she had
* In honour of Whitefield, I annex here part of a letter upon this
subject, written a few days after this curious scene, and addressed to a
son of one of the Erskines. “ The treatment I met with from the
Associate Presbytery was not altogether such as I expected. It grieved
me as much as it did you. - I could scarce refrain from bursting into
a flood of tears. I wish all were like-minded with your honoured father
and uncle ; matters then would not be carried on with so high an hand.
I fear they are led too much. Supposing the scheme of government
which the Associate Presbytery contend for to be scriptural, yet for-
bearance and long-suffering is to be exercised towards such as may
124 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
heard that I had told some people that the Associate
Presbytery were building a Babel. I said, ‘Madam,
it is quite true; and I believe the Babel will soon fall
down about their ears.' But enough of this. Lord,
what is man—what the best of men—but men at the
best!”
Coming as a stranger into Scotland, and being
free from all prejudice and passion upon the sub-
ject, Whitefield saw the folly and the mischief of
the schisms in which his new acquaintance were
engaged. They spared no pains to win him over
to their side. “I find,” said he, “Satan now turns
himself into an angel of light, and stirs up God's
children to tempt me to come over to some particular
party.” To one of his correspondents he replies: “I
wish you would not trouble yourself or me in writing
about the corruption of the Church of England. I
believe there is no church perfect under heaven; but
as God, by his providence, is pleased to send me forth
simply to preach the Gospel to all, I think there is no
need of casting myself out.” He was invited to
differ from them : and, I am verily persuaded, there is no such form of
government prescribed in the book of God, as excludes a toleration of
all other forms whatsoever. Was the New Testament outward taber-
nacle to be built as punctual as the Old, as punctual directions would
have been given about the building it: whereas it is only deduced by
inference; and thus we see Independents, Presbyterians, and Episco-
palians bring the same text to support their particular scheme: and I
believe Jesus Christ thereby would teach us to exercise forbearance and
long-suffering to each other. Was the Associate Presbytery scheme to
take effect, out of conscience, if they acted consistently, they must
restrain and grieve, if not persecute, many of God's children, who
could not possibly come into their measures: and I doubt not but
their present violent methods, together with the corruptions of that
assembly, will cause many to turn Independents, and set up particular
churches of their own. This was the effect of Archbishop Laud’s
acting with so high a hand; and whether it be presbytery, or episco-
pacy, if managed in the same manner, it will be productive of the
same effects. O, dear Sir, I love and honour your pious father. Re-
member me in the kindest manner to the good old man. I pray God
his last days may not be employed too much in the non-essentials of
religion.”
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 125
Aberdeen by the minister of one of the kirks in that
city; but the minister's co-pastor had prepossessed the
magistrates against him, so that when he arrived they
refused to let him preach in the kirk-yard. They
had, however, sufficient curiosity to attend when he
officiated in his friend's pulpit; the congregation was
very large, and, in Whitefield's own words, “light
and life fled all around.” In the afternoon it was the
other pastor's turn : he began his prayers as usual;
but, in the midst of them, he named Whitefield by
name, whom he knew to be then present, and entreated
the Lord to forgive the dishonour that had been put
upon him, when that man was suffered to preach in
that pulpit. Not satisfied with this, he renewed the
attack in his sermon, reminded his congregation that
this person was a curate of the Church of England,
and quoted some passages from his first printed dis-
courses, which he said were grossly Arminian. “Most
of the congregation,” says Whitefield, “seemed sur-
prised and chagrined ; especially his good-natured
colleague, who, immediately after sermon, without
consulting me in the least, stood up, and gave notice
that Mr. Whitefield would preach in about half an
hour. The interval being so short, the magistrates
returned into the sessions-house, and the congregation
patiently waited, big with expectation of hearing my
resentment. At the time appointed I went up, and
took no other notice of the good man's ill-timed zeal,
than to observe, in some part of my discourse, that if
the good old gentleman had seen some of my later
writings, wherein I had corrected several of my former
mistakes, he would not have expressed himself in such
strong terms. The people being thus diverted from
controversy with man, were deeply impressed with
what they heard from the word of God. All was
hushed, and more than solemn. And on the morrow
the magistrates sent for me, expressed themselves
126 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
quite concerned at the treatment I had met with,
and begged I would accept of the freedom of the
City.”
iii. triumph Whitefield obtained as much by that
perfect self-command which he always possessed in
public, as by his surpassing oratory. But wherever
he could obtain a hearing, his Oratory was triumphant,
and his success in Scotland was, in some respects,
greater than it had yet been in England. “Glory be
to God,” he says, “he is doing great things here. I
walk in the continual sunshine of his countenance.
Congregations consist of many thousands. Never did
I see so many bibles, nor people look into them, when
I am expounding, with such attention. Plenty of
tears flow from the hearers' eyes. I preach twice
daily, and expound at private houses at night; and
am employed in speaking to souls under distress great
part of the day. Every morning I have a constant
levee of wounded souls, many of whom are quite slain
by the law. At seven in the morning (this was at
Edinburgh) we have a lecture in the fields, attended
not only by the common people, but persons of great
rank. I have reason to think several of the latter
sort are coming to Jesus. I am only afraid lest
people should idolise the instrument, and not look
enough to the glorious Jesus, in whom alone I desire
to glory. I walk continually in the comforts of the
Holy Ghost. The love of Christ quite strikes me
dumb. O grace, grace I let that be my song.” In
Scotland it was that he first found access to people of
rank. “Saints,” says he, “have been stirred up and
edified; and many others, I believe, are translated
from darkness to light, and from the kingdom of Satan
to the kingdom of God. The good that has been done
is inexpressible. I am intimate with three noblemen,
and several ladies of quality, who have a great liking
for the things of God. I am now writing in an earl's
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 127
house, surrounded with fine furniture; but, glory be
to free grace, my soul is in love only with Jesus!”
His exertions increased with his success. “Yes-
terday,” he says, “I preached three times, and lectured
at night. This day Jesus has enabled me to preach
seven times; once in the church, twice at the girls'
hospital, once in the park, once at the old people's
hospital, and afterwards twice at a private house:
notwithstanding, I am now as fresh as when Iarose in
the morning : “They that wait upon the Lord shall
renew their strength; they shall mount on wings like
eagles.’ It would delight your soul to see the effects
of the power of God. Both in the church and park
the Lord was with us. The girls in the hospital
were exceedingly affected, and so were the standers-
by. One of the mistresses told me, she is now
awakened in the morning by the voice of prayer and
praise; and the master of the boys says, that they
meet together every night to sing and pray; and
when he goes to their rooms at night, to see if all be
Safe, he generally disturbs them at their devotions.
The presence of God at the old people's hospital was
really very wonderful. The Holy Spirit seemed to
come down like a mighty rushing wind. The mourn-
ing of the people was like the weeping in the valley
of Hadad-Rimmon. They appear more and more
hungry. Every day I hear of some fresh good
wrought by the power of God. I scarce know how to
leave Scotland.”
The representation thus given by this remarkable
man, of the effect which his preaching produced upon
all ranks and descriptions of people, is not exagger-
ated. Dr. Franklin has justly observed, that it would
have been fortunate for his reputation if he had left
no written works; his talents would then have been
estimated by the effect which they are known to have
produced; for, on this point, there is the evidence of
128 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
witnesses whose credibility cannot be disputed.
Whitefield's writings, of every kind, are certainly
below mediocrity. They afford the measure of his
knowledge and of his intellect, but not of his genius
as a preacher. His printed sermons, instead of being,
as is usual, the most elaborate and finished discourses
of their author, have indeed the disadvantage of being
precisely those upon which the least care had been
bestowed. This may be easily explained.
“By hearing him often,” says Franklin, “I came
to distinguish easily between sermons newly composed,
and those which he had often preached in the course
of his travels. His delivery of the latter was so im-
proved by frequent repetition, that every accent,
every emphasis, every modulation of voice, was so
perfectly well turned, and well placed, that, without
being interested in the subject, one could not help
being pleased with the discourse: a pleasure of much
the same kind with that received from an excellent
piece of music. This is an advantage itinerant
preachers have over those who are stationary, as the
latter cannot well improve their delivery of a sermon
by so many rehearsals.” It was a great advantage,
but it was not the only one, nor the greatest which
he derived from repeating his discourses, and reciting
instead of reading them. Had they been delivered
from a written copy, one delivery would have been
like the last ; the paper would have operated like a
spell, from which he could not depart — invention
sleeping, while the utterance followed the eye. But
when he had nothing before him except the audience
whom he was addressing, the judgement and the
imagination, as well as the memory, were called forth.
Those parts were omitted which had been felt to
come feebly from the tongue, and fall heavily upon
the ear; and their place was supplied by matter newly
laid-in in the course of his studies, or fresh from the
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 129
feeling of the moment. They who lived with him
could trace him in his sermons to the book which he
had last been reading, or the subject which had
recently taken his attention. But the salient points
of his oratory were not prepared passages, – they
were bursts of passion, like jets from a Geyser, when
the spring is in full play.
The theatrical talent which he displayed in boyhood
manifested itself strongly in his oratory. When he
was about to preach, whether it was from a pulpit, or
a table in the streets, or a rising ground, he appeared
with a solemnity of manner, and an anxious ex-
pression of countenance, that seemed to show how
deeply he was possessed with a sense of the importance
of what he was about to say. His elocution was
perfect. They who heard him most frequently could
not remember that he ever stumbled at a word, or
hesitated for want of one. He never faultered, unless
when the feeling to which he had wrought himself
overcame him, and then his speech was interrupted
by a flow of tears. Sometimes he would appear to
lose all self-command, and weep exceedingly, and
stamp loudly and passionately; and sometimes the
emotion of his mind exhausted him, and the beholders
felt a momentary apprehension even for his life. And,
indeed, it is said, that the effect of this vehemence
upon his bodily frame was tremendous; that he
usually vomited after he had preached, and sometimes
discharged, in this manner, a considerable quantity
of blood. But this was when the effort was over,
and nature was left at leisure to relieve herself.
While he was on duty, he controlled all sense of
infirmity or pain, and made his advantage of the
passion to which he had given way. “You blame
me for weeping,” he would say, “but how can I help
it, when you will not weep for yourselves, though
your immortal souls are upon the verge of destruc-
• VOL. II. . K -
130 METHODISM "IN SCOTLAND.
tion, and, for aught I know, you are hearing your
last sermon, and may never more have an opportunity
to have Christ offered to you!”
Sometimes he would set before his congregation
the agony of our Saviour, as though the scene was
actually before them. “Look yonder ” he would
say, stretching out his hand, and pointing while he
spake, “what is it that I see ? It is my agonising
Lord! Hark, harkſ do you not hear? – O my Father,
if it be possible, let this cup pass from me! Never-
theless, not my will, but thine be done !” This he
introduced frequently in his sermons; and one who
lived with him says, the effect was not destroyed by
repetition; even to those who knew what was coming,
it came as forcibly as if they had never heard it
before. In this respect it was like fine stage acting;
and indeed Whitefield indulged in an histrionic
manner of preaching, which would have been offensive
| if it had not been rendered admirable by his natural
gracefulness and inimitable power. Sometimes, at
the close of a sermon, he would personate a judge
about to perform the last awful part of his office.
With his eyes full of tears, and an emotion that made
his speech faulter, after a pause which kept the whole
audience in breathless expectation of what was to
come, he would say, “I am now going to put on my
condemning cap. Sinner, I must do it: I must
pronounce sentence upon you!” and then, in a tre-
mendous strain of eloquence, describing the eternal
punishment of the wicked, he recited the words of
Christ, “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting
fire, prepared for the Devil and his angels.” When
he spoke of St. Peter, how, after the cock crew, he
went out and wept bitterly, he had a fold of his gown
ready, in which he hid his face. -
Perfect as it was, histrionism like this would have
produced no lasting effect upon the mind, had it not
been for the unaffected earnestness and the indu-
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 131
bitable sincerity of the preacher, which equally
characterised his manner, whether he rose to the
height of passion in his discourse, or won the attention
of the motley crowd by the introduction of familiar
stories, and illustrations adapted to the meanest
capacity.” To such digressions his disposition led
him, which was naturally inclined to a comic play-
fulness. Minds of a certain power will sometimes
express their strongest feelings with a levity at which
formalists are shocked, and which dull men are wholly
unable to understand. But language which, when
coldly repeated, might seem to border upon irreve-
rence and burlesque, has its effect in popular preach-
ing, when the intention of the speaker is perfectly
understood: it is suited to the great mass of the
people; it is felt by them, when better things would
have produced no impression; and it is borne away,
when wiser arguments would have been forgotten.
There was another and more uncommon way in which
Whitefield's peculiar talent sometimes was indulged:
he could direct his discourse toward an individual so
skilfully, that the congregation had no suspicion of
any particular purport in that part of the sermon;
while the person at whom it was aimed felt it, as it
was directed, in its full force. There was sometimes
a degree of sportiveness almost akin to mischief in his
humour.f
* Wesley says of him, in his Journal, “How wise is God, in giving
different talents to different preachers | Even the little improprieties
both of his language and manner, were a means of profiting many, who
would not have been touched by a more correct discourse, or a more
calm and regular manner of speaking.” St. Augustine somewhere
says, that is the best key which opens the door: quid enim prodest clavis
aurea şi aperire Quod volumus non potest ? aut quod obest lignea, si hoc
potest, quando nihil quarimus nisi patere quod clausum est ?
f Mr. Winter relates a curious anecdote of his preaching at a maid-
servant who had displeased him by some negligence in the morning.
“In the evening,” says the writer, “before the family retired to rest,
I found her under great dejection, the reason of which I did not appre-
hend; for it did not strike me that, in exemplifying a conduct incon-
k 2
132 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
Remarkable instances are related of the manner in
which he impressed his hearers. A man at Exeter
stood with stones in his pocket, and one in his hand,
ready to throw at him ; but he dropped it before the
sermon was far advanced, and going up to him after
the preaching was over, he said, “Sir, I came to hear
you with an intention to break your head: but God,
through your ministry, has given me a broken heart.”
A ship-builder was once asked what he thought of
him. “Think!” he replied, “I tell you, Sir, every
Sunday that I go to my parish church, I can build a
ship from stem to stern under the sermon; but, were
it to save my soul, under Mr. Whitefield, I could not
lay a single plank.” . Hume pronounced him the most
ingenious preacher he had ever heard; and said, it was
worth while to go twenty miles to hear him.” But,
perhaps, the greatest proof of his persuasive powers
sistent with the Christian's professed fidelity to his Redeemer, he was
drawing it from remissness of duty in a living character ; but she felt
it so sensibly as to be greatly distressed by it, until he relieved her
mind by his usually amiable deportment. The next day, being about
to leave town, he called out to her ‘farewell:” she did not make her
appearance, which he remarked to a female friend at dinner, who replied,
‘Sir, you have exceedingly wounded poor Betty.” This excited in him
a hearty laugh ; and when I shut the coach-door upon him, he said,
* Be sure to remember me to Betty ; tell her the account is settled, and
that I have nothing more against her.’”
Mr. Thornton, in a letter to Mr. Powley, (Feb. 14. 1788,) speaking
of Mr. Winter as “one whose piety and judgement he had a great opinion
of,” says “he travelled with Mr. Whitefield, and was promised ordination;
but as they shuffled him off, he was necessitated to join the Dissenters.”
* One of his flights of oratory, not in the best taste, is related on
Hume's authority. “After a solemn pause, Mr. Whitefield thus ad-
dressed his audience : — The attendant angel is just about to leave the
threshold, and ascend to Heaven ; and shall he ascend and not bear with
him the news of one sinner, among all the multitude, reclaimed from
the error of his ways To give the greater effect to this exclamation,
he stamped with his foot, lifted up his hands and eyes to heaven, and
cried aloud, Stop, Gabriel ! stop, Gabriel ! stop, ere you enter the sacred
portals, and yet carry with you the news of one sinner converted to
God!” Hume said this address was accompanied with such animated,
yet natural action, that it surpassed any thing he ever saw or heard in
any other preacher.
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 133
was, when he drew from Franklin's pocket the money
which that clear cool reasoner had determined not to
give: it was for the orphan-house at Savannah. “I
did not,” says the American philosopher, “disapprove
of the design ; but as Georgia was then destitute of
materials and workmen, and it was proposed to send
them from Philadelphia at a great expense, I thought
it would have been better to have built the house at
Philadelphia, and brought the children to it. This I
advised; but he was resolute in his first project,
rejected my counsel, and T therefore refused to con-
tribute. I happened, soon after, to attend one of his
sermons, in the course of which I perceived he
intended to finish with a collection, and I silently
resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in
my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four
silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he pro-
ceeded I began to soften, and concluded to give the
copper; another stroke of his oratory made me
ashamed of that, and determined me to give the
silver; and he finished so admirably, that I emptied
my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold
and all.” ”
No wonder that such a preacher should be admired \
and followed in a country where the habits of the
people were devotional. On his second visit to
Scotland, he was met on the shore at Leith by mul-
titudes, weeping and blessing him, and they followed
* “At this sermon,” continues Franklin, “there was also one of our
club, who, being of my sentiments respecting the building in Georgia,
and suspecting a collection might be intended, had by precaution
emptied his pockets before he came from home: towards the conclusion
of the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and ap-
plied to a neighbour, who stood near him, to lend him some money for
the purpose. The request was fortunately made to perhaps the only
man in the company who had the firmness not to be affected by the
preacher. His answer was, ‘ At any other time, friend Hopkinson, I
would lend to thee freely, but not now ; for thee seems to me to be out
of thy right senses.’” - - -
K 3
134 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
his coach to Edinburgh, pressing to welcome him
when he alighted, and to hold him in their arms.
Seats, with awnings, were erected in the park, in the
form of an amphitheatre, for his preaching. . Several
youths left their parents and masters to follow him as
his servants and children in the Gospel; but he had
sense enough to show them their error, and send them
back. The effect which he produced was maddening.
At Cambuslang it exceeded any thing which he had
ever witnessed in his career. “I preached at two,”
he says, “to a vast body of people, and at six in the
evening, and again at nine. Such a commotion,
surely, never was heard of, especially at eleven at
night. For about an hour and a half there was such
weeping, so many falling into deep distress, and ex-
pressing it various ways, as is inexpressible. The
people seem to be slain by scores. They are carried
off, and come into the house, like soldiers wounded
in and carried off a field of battle. Their cries and
agonies are exceedingly affecting. Mr. M. preached,
after I had ended, till past one in the morning, and
then could scarce persuade them to depart. All
night, in the fields, might be heard the voice of
prayer and praise. Some young ladies were found by
a gentlewoman praising God at break of day: she
went and joined with them.” Soon afterwards he
returned there to assist at the sacrament. “Scarce
ever,” he says, “was such a sight seen in Scotland.
There were, undoubtedly, upwards of twenty thousand
persons. Two tents were set up, and the holy Sacra-
ment was administered in the fields. When I began
to serve a table, the power of God was felt by num-
bers; but the people crowded so upon me, that I was
obliged to desist, and go to preach at one of the tents,
whilst the ministers served the rest of the tables.
God was with them, and with his people. There was
preaching all day by one or another; and in the
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND: I 35
evening, when the sacrament was over, at the request
of the ministers, I preached to the whole congregation.
I preached about an hour and a half. Surely it was
a time much to be remembered. On Monday morning
I preached again to near as many; but such an
universal stir I never saw before. The motion fled
as swift as lightning from one end of the auditory to
another. You might have seen thousands bathed in
tears: some at the same time wringing their hands,
others almost swooning, and others crying out and
mourning over a pierced Saviour.” *
The Erskines were astonished at all this. One
of the Associated Presbytery published a pamphlet
against him, wherein, with the true virulence of
bigotry, he ascribed these things to the influence of
the Devil; and the heads of the Seceders appointed a
public fast, to humble themselves for his being in
Scotland, whither they themselves had invited him,
and for what they termed the delusion at Cambuslang.
They might have so called it, with more propriety, if
they had not been under a delusion themselves; for
Whitefield perfectly understood their feelings, when he
said, “all this, because I would not consent to preach
only for them till I had light into, and could take the
solemn league and covenant l” He made many other
visits to Scotland ; and there, indeed, he seems to
have obtained that introduction to persons of rank
which in its consequences led to the establishment of
a college for Calvinistic Methodism in England. But
he aimed at nothing more than could be produced by
his own preaching: it was neither congenial to his
talents nor his views to organise a body of followers;
and, in the intervals between his visits, the seed which
he had scattered was left to grow up, or to wither as
it might.
Wesley had other views: his aim, wherever he
went, was to form a society. It was not till ten
K 4
136 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
years after his former colleague had first visited
Scotland, that he resolved to go there. A reconcili-
ation had then taken place between them, - for en-
mity could not be lasting between two men who knew
each other's sincerity and good intentions so well, -
and Whitefield would have dissuaded him from going.
“You have no business there,” he said; “for your
principles are so well known, that, if you spoke like
an angel, none would hear you; and if they did, you
would have nothing to do but to dispute with one and
another from morning to night.” Wesley replied, “If
God sends me, people will hear. And I will give
them no provocation to dispute ; for I will studiously
avoid controverted points, and keep to the fundamental
truths of Christianity; and if any still begin to
dispute, they may, but I will not dispute with them.”
He was, however, so aware of the bitter hostility with
which Arminian principles would be received in
Scotland, that, he says, when he went into that
kingdom, he had no intention of preaching there;
nor did he imagine that any person would desire him
so to do. He might have reckoned with more con-
fidence upon the curiosity of the people. He was
invited to preach at Musselborough : the audience
remained like statues from the beginning of the
sermon till the end, and he flattered himself that “the
prejudice which the Devil had been several years
planting, was torn up by the roots in one hour.”
From this time Scotland was made a part of his
regular rounds. “Surely,” says he, “with God
nothing is impossible ! Who would have believed,
five-and-twenty years ago, either that the minister
would have desired it, or that I should have consented
to preach in a Scotch kirk l’’
He flattered himself egregiously when he accepted
these beginnings as Omens of good success, and when
he supposed that the prejudice against him was era-
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 137
dicated. An old Burgher minister at Dalkeith
preached against him, affirming that, if he died in
his present sentiments, he would be damned; and the
famatic declared that he would stake his own salvation
upon it. It was well for him that these people were
not armed with temporal authority. “The Seceders,”
says Wesley, “who have fallen in my way, are more
uncharitable than the Papists themselves. I never
yet met a Papist who avowed the principle of mur-
dering heretics. But a Seceding minister being
asked, ‘Would not you, if it was in your power, cut
the throats of all the Methodists 2' replied directly,
“Why, did not Samuel hew Agag in pieces before the
Lord?' I have not yet met a Papist in this kingdom
who would tell me to my face, all but themselves
must be damned; but I have seen Seceders enough
who make no scruple to affirm, none but themselves
could be saved. And this is the natural consequence
of their doctrine; for, as they hold that we are saved
by faith alone, and that faith is the holding such and
such opinions, it follows, all who do not hold those
opinions have no faith, and therefore cannot be saved.”
Even Whitefield, predestinarian as he was, was re-
garded as an abomination by the Seceders: how,
then, was it possible that they should tolerate Wesley,
who taught that redemption was offered to all man-
kind ** A Methodist one day comforted a poor
woman, whose child appeared to be dying, by as-
suring her that, for an infant, death would only be
the exchange of this miserable life for a happy
eternity; and the Seceder, to whose flock she belonged,
was so shocked at this doctrine, that the deep-dyed
Calvinist devoted the next Sabbath to the task of con-
* Not only Wesley, but his biographer, seems to make a difference
where. I can find none. Surely Whitefield thought it his duty to offer
the Gospel to all, though he believed it foreseen by God that only a
certain number would receive it.—S. T. C.
138 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
|
vincing his people, that the souls of non-elect infants
were doomed to certain and inevitable damnation.
But it was Wesley's fortune to meet with an
obstacle in Scotland more fatal to Methodism than
the fiercest opposition would have been. Had his
followers been more generally opposed, they would
have multiplied faster: opposition would have in-
flamed their zeal; it was neglected, and died away.
From time to time he complains, in his Journal, of
the cold insensibility of the people. “O what a
difference is there between the living stones,” he
says, speaking of the Northumbrians, “and the dead
unfeeling multitudes in Scotland. At Dundee,” he
observes, “I admire the people; so decent, so serious,
and so perfectly unconcerned ” “At Glasgow I
preached on the Old Green to a people, the greatest
part of whom hear much, know every thing, and feel
nothing.” They had been startled by the thunder
and lightning of Whitefield's oratory; but they were
as unmoved by the soft persuasive rhetoric of Wesley,
as by one of their own Scotch mists. -
Wesley endeavoured to account for this mortifying
failure, and to discover “what could be the reason
why the hand of the Lord (who does nothing without
a cause) was almost entirely stayed in Scotland.”
He imputed it to the unwillingness of those, who
were otherwise favourably inclined, to admit the
preaching of illiterate men; and to the rude bitterness
and bigotry of those who regarded an Arminian as an
Infidel, and the Church of England as bad as the
Church of Rome. The Scotch bigots, he said, were
beyond all others. He answered, before a large con-
gregation at Dundee, most of the objections which
had been made to him. He was a member of the
Church of England, he said, but he loved good men
of every church. He always used a short private
prayer when he attended the public service of God:
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 139
why did not they do the same 2 Was it not according
to the Bible? He stood whenever he was singing the
praises of God in public: were there not plain pre-
cedents for this in Scripture? He always knelt
before the Lord when he prayed in public; and
generally, in public, he used the Lord's Prayer,
because Christ has taught us, when we pray, to say,
Our Father, which art in heaven. But it was not by
such frivolous objections as these that the success of
Methodism in Scotland was impeded. The real cause
of its failure was, that it was not wanted — that
there was no place for it: the discipline of the kirk
was not relaxed; the clergy possessed great influence
over their parishioners; the children were piously
brought up; the population had not outgrown the
church establishment; and the Scotch, above all other
people, deserved the praise of being a frugal, indus-
trious, and religious nation. -
Obvious as this is, Wesley seems not to have
perceived it: and it is evident that he regarded both
the forms and discipline of the church of Scotland,
with a disposition rather to detect what was ob-
jectionable, than to acknowledge what was good.*
“Lodging with a sensible man,” he writes, “I in-
quired particularly into the present discipline of the
Scotch parishes. In one parish, it seems, there are
twelve ruling elders; in another, there are fourteen.
* One of his charges against the Scotch clergy was, that “with pride,
bitterness, and bigotry, self-indulgence was joined ; self-denial was little
taught and practised. It is well if some of them did not despise, or
even condemn, all self-denial in things indifferent, as in apparel or food,
as nearly allied to popery.” (Journal x. p. 20.) And in one of his
sermons he says, “There is always a fast-day in the week preceding the
administration of the Lord's Supper (in Scotland). But occasionally
looking into a book of accounts, in one of their vestries, I observed so
much set down for the dinners of the ministers on the fast day: and I
am informed there is the same article in them all. And is there any
doubt but that the people fast just as their ministers do 2 But what a
farce is this what a miserable burlesque upon a plain Christian duty ".
(Works, vol. x. p. 419.) - • * * * * * * *
140 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
And what are these?—men of great sense and deep
experience? Neither one nor the other: but they are
the richest men in the parish. And are the richest,
of course, the best and the wisest men 2 Does the
Bible teach this 2 I fear not. What manner of go-
vernors, then, will these be Why, they are generally
just as capable of governing a parish as of com-
manding an army l’’ Had he been free from prejudice,
instead of being led away by an abuse of words, he
would have perceived how the fact stood, - that the
elders were required to be respectable in their circum-
stances, as well as in character; and that, without
that respectability, they could not have obtained re-
spect. That the forms of the kirk, or, rather, its want
of forms, should offend him, is not surprising. “O,”
he cries, “what a difference is there between the
English and the Scotch mode of burial. The English
does honour to human mature, and even to the poor
remains that were once a temple of the Holy Ghost:
but when I see in Scotland a coffin put into the earth,
and covered up without a word spoken, it reminds me
of what was spoken concerning Jehoiakim, He shall be
buried with the burial of an ass.” It was, indeed, no
proof of judgement, or of feeling, to reject the finest
and most affecting ritual that was ever composed – a
service that finds its way to the heart, when the heart
stands most in need of such consolation, and is open
to receive it. Yet Wesley might have known, that
the silent interment of the Scotch is not without
solemnity; and in their lonely burial-grounds, and
family burial-places, he might have seen something
worthy of imitation in England. - -
Writing at Glasgow, he says, “My spirit was moved
within me at the sermons I heard, both morning and
afternoon. They contained much truth, but were no
more likely to awaken one soul than an Italian opera.”
The truth was, that he did not understand the Scotch
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 141
character, and therefore condemned the practice of
those preachers who did. “I spoke as closely as I
could,” he says of his own sermons, “and made a
pointed application to the hearts of all that were
present. I am convinced this is the only way
whereby we can do any good in Scotland. This very
day I heard many excellent truths delivered in the
kirk; but as there was no application, it was likely to
do as much good as the singing of a lark. I wonder
the pious ministers in Scotland are not sensible of
this: they cannot but see that no sinners are con-
vinced of sin–none converted to God, by this way of
preaching. How strange is it, then, that neither reason
nor experience teaches them to take a better way !”
They aimed at no such effect.* The new-birth of the
Methodists, their instantaneous conversions, their
assurance, their sanctification, and their perfection,
were justly regarded as extravagances by the Scotch
as well as by the English clergy.
It was with more reason that Wesley groaned over
the manner in which the Reformation had been
effected in Scotland; and, when he stood amid the
ruins of Aberbrothock, exclaimed, “God deliver us
from reforming mobs ſ” Nor would he admit of the
apology that is offered for such havoc, and for the
character of John Knox. “I know,” he says, “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. And 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, sour, overbearing, pas-
sionate 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
* No? What?—not to convince any sinner of his sins 2 – S. T. C.
142 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
more, had they been of a humbler and milder spirit.”
On the other hand, he bore testimony to the remarkable
decorum with which public worship was conducted by
the Episcopalians in Scotland: it exceeded any thing
which he had seen in England: and he admitted, that
even his own congregations did not come up to it.
He did, however, this justice to the Scotch, that
he acknowledged they were never offended at plain
dealing; and that, in this respect, they were a pattern
to all mankind. Nor did he ever meet with the
slightest molestation from mobs, or the slightest in-
'sult. One day, however, a warrant was issued against
him at Edinburgh, by the sheriff, and he was carried
to a house adjoining the Tolbooth. A certain George
Sutherland, who, to his own mishap, had at one time
been a member of the society, had deposed, that Hugh
Sanderson, one of John Wesley's preachers, had taken
from his wife one hundred pounds in money, and
upwards of thirty pounds in goods; and had, besides
that, terrified her into madness; so that, through the
want of her help, and the loss of business, he was
damaged five hundred pounds. He had deposed also,
that the said John Wesley and Hugh Sanderson, to
evade his pursuit, were preparing to fly the country;
and upon these grounds had obtained a warrant to
search for, seize, and incarcerate them in the Tolbooth,
till they should find security for their appearance.
The sheriff, with great indiscretion, granted this
warrant against Wesley, who could in no way be
held legally responsible for the conduct of any of his
preachers; but when the affair was tried, the accusa-
tion was proved to be so false and calumnious, that
the prosecutor was heavily fined.* -
Looking for any cause of failure, rather than the
* One thousand pounds, says Wesley, in his Journal; and omits to
add, that it was one thousand pounds Scotch, Anglice, a thousand
shillings. -
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 143
real one, Wesley imputed the want of success in Scot-
land to the disposition which his preachers manifested
to remain stationary there. “We are not called,” he
says, “to sit still in one place: it is neither for the
health of our souls nor bodies: we will have travel-
ling preachers in Scotland, or none. I will serve thel
Scotch as we do the English, or leave them. While
I live, itinerant preachers shall be itinerants, if they
choose to remain in connection with us. The thing is
fixed: the manner of effecting it, is to be considered.”
But here lay the difficulty: for the spiritual warfare
of Methodism was carried on upon the principle of
deriving means from its conquests; and the errant-
preacher who failed of success in his expeditions,
oftentimes fasted, when there was no virtue of self-
denial in the compulsory abstinence.
A curious instance of this occurred in the case of
Thomas Taylor, one of those preachers who tempered
zeal with judgement, and who found means, during
his itinerancy, by the strictest economy of time, to
acquire both the Greek and Hebrew languages. This
person was appointed to Glasgow. He had gone
through hard service in Wales and in Ireland, in
wild countries, and among wild men: but this popu-
lous city presented a new scene, and offered some-
thing more discouraging than either bodily fatigue
or bodily danger. There were no Methodists here,
no place of entertainment, no place to preach in, no
friend with whom to communicate : it was a hard
winter, and he was in a strange land. Having, how-
ever, taken a lodging, he gave out that he should
preach on the Green: a table was carried to the place,
and going there at the appointed time, he found —
two barbers' boys and two old women waiting. “My
very soul,” he says, “ sunk within me. I had tra-
velled by land and by water near six hundred miles
to this place, and behold my congregation l None
144 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
but they who have experienced it, can tell what a task
it is to stand out in the open air to preach to nobody,
especially in such a place as Glasgow !” Never-
theless, he mounted his table, and began to sing: the
singing he had entirely to himself; but perseverance
brought about him some two hundred poor people ;
and continuing, day after day, he collected at last
large audiences. One evening, the largest congrega-
tion that he had ever seen was assembled. His table
was too low; and even when a chair was placed upon
it, the rostrum was still not sufficiently elevated for
the multitudes who surrounded him : so he mounted
upon a high wall, and cried aloud, “The hour is
coming, and now is, when the dead shall hear the
voice of the Son of God, and they that hear shall
live l’’ They were still as the dead; and he con-
ceived great hope, from the profound attention with
which they listened: but when he had done, he says,
“ they made a lane for me to walk through the huge
multitude, while they stood staring at me, but no one
said, Where dwellest thou!”
This reception brought with it double mortifica-
tion, — to the body, as well as the mind. An itine-
rant always counted upon the hospitality of his flock,
and stood, indeed, in need of it. Taylor had every
thing to pay for: his room, fire, and attendance cost
him three shillings per week; his fare was poor in
proportion to his lodging: and to keep up his credit
with his landlady, he often committed the pious fraud
of dressing himself as if he were going out to dinner,
and, after a dry walk, returned home hungry. He
never, in all the rest of his life, kept so many fast
days. He sold his horse: this resource, however,
could not maintain him long; and, in the midst of
his distress, a demand was made upon him by one of
his hearers, which was not likely to give him a fa-
vourable opinion of the national character. This
METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 145
man, perceiving that Taylor was a bad singer, and
frequently embarrassed by being obliged to sing the
Scotch version, (because the people knew nothing of
the Methodist hymns,) offered his services to act as
precentor, and lead off the psalms. This did excel-
lently well, till he brought in a bill of thirteen and
fourpence for his work, which was just fourpence a
time : the poor preacher paid the demand, and dis-
missed him and the Scotch psalms together. Taylor's
perseverance was not, however, wholly lost. Some
dissenters from the kirk were then building what is
called in Glasgow a Kirk of Relief, for the purpose of
choosing their own minister. One of the leading men
had become intimate with him, and offered to secure
him a majority of the voters. This was no ordinary
temptation: comfort, honour, and credit, with 140l.
a year, in exchange for hunger and contempt: but
there was honour also on the other side. The preacher,
though he was alone in Glasgow, belonged to a well-
organised and increasing society, where he had all
the encouragement of co-operation, friendship, sym-
pathy, and applause. He rejected the offer: and,
before the spring, he formed a regular society, of about"
c-
forty persons, who procured a place to meet in, and
furnished it with a pulpit and seats. When they had
thus housed him, they began to inquire how he was
maintained: if he had an estate; or what supplies
from England. He then explained to them his own
circumstances, and the manner in which the preachers
were supported, by small contributions. This neces-
sary part of the Methodist economy was cheerfully
established among them; and when he departed, he
left a certain provision for his successor, and a flock \
of seventy souls. But even in this populous city,
Wesley, upon his last visit to Scotland, when his
venerable age alone might have made him an object
of curiosity and reasonable wonder, attracted few
VOL. II. L
h
146 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND.
hearers. “The congregation,” he says, “was miser-
ably small, verifying what I had often heard before,
that the Scotch dearly love the word of the Lord —
on the Lord's day. If I live to come again, I will
take care to spend only the Lord's day at Glasgow.”
147
CHAPTER XXIII.
METHODISM IN IRELAND.
MELANCHOLY and anomalous as the civil history of
Ireland is, its religious history is equally mournful,
and not less strange. Even at the time when it was
called the Island of Saints, and men went forth from
its monasteries to be the missionaries, not of mo-
machism alone, but of literature and civilisation, the
mass of the people continued savage, and was some-
thing worse than heathen. They accommodated their
new religion to their own propensities, with a per-
verted ingenuity, at once humorous and detestable,
and altogether peculiar to themselves. Thus, when a
child was immersed at baptism, it was customary not
to dip the right arm, to the intent that he might strike
a more deadly and ungracious blow there with ; and
under an opinion, no doubt, that the rest of the body
would not be responsible at the resurrection, for any
thing which had been committed by the unbaptized
hand. Thus, too, at the baptism, the father took the
wolves for his gossips; and thought that, by this
profanation, he was forming an alliance, both for
himself and the boy, with the fiercest beasts of the
woods. The son of a chief was baptized in milk;
water was not thought good enough, and whiskey had
not then been invented. They used to rob in the
beginning of the year as a point of devotion, for the
purpose of laying up a good stock of plunder against
Easter; and he whose spoils enabled him to furnish
the best entertainment at that time, was looked upon
as the best Christian, – so they robbed in emulation
L 2
148 METHODISM IN ITELAND,
of each other; and reconciling their habits to their
conscience, with a hardihood beyond that of the boldest
casuists, they persuaded themselves, that if robbery,
murder, and rape had been sins, Providence would
never put such temptations in their way; nay, that
the sin would be, if they were so ungrateful as not to
take advantage of a good opportunity when it was
offered them. -
These things would appear incredible, if they were
not conformable to the spirit of Irish history, fabu-
lous and authentic. Yet were the Irish, beyond
all other people, passionately attached to the reli-
gion wherein they were so miserably ill instructed.
Whether they were distinguished by this peculiar
attachment to their church, when the supremacy of
the Pope was acknowledged throughout Europe, can-
not be known, and may with much probability be
doubted: this is evident, that it must have acquired
strength and inveteracy when it became a principle
of opposition to their rulers, and was blended with
their hatred of the English, who so little understood
their duty and their policy as conquerors, that they
neither made themselves loved, nor feared, nor re-
spected. -
Ireland is the only country in which the Reforma-
tion produced nothing but evil. Protestant Europe
has been richly repaid for the long calamities of that
great revolution, by the permanent blessings which it
left behind; and even among those nations where the
papal superstition maintained its dominion by fire
and sword, an important change was effected in the
lives and conduct of the Romish clergy. Ireland
alone was so circumstanced as to be incapable of
deriving any advantage, while it was exposed to all
the evils of the change. The work of sacrilege and
plunder went on there as it did in England and Scot-
land; but the language of the people, and their savage
METHODISM IN IRELAND. 149
state, precluded all possibility of religious improve-
ment. It was not till nearly the middle of the seven-
teenth century that the Bible was translated into
Irish, by means of Bishop Bedell, a man worthy to
have Sir Henry Wotton for his patron, and Father
Paolo Sarpi for his friend. The church property had
been so scandalously plundered, that few parishes *
could afford even a bare subsistence to a Protestant
minister, and therefore few ministers were to be found.
Meantime the Romish clergy were on the alert, and
they were powerfully aided by a continued supply of
fellow-labourers from the seminaries established in
the Spanish dominions; men who, by their temper
and education, were fitted for any work in which
policy might think proper to employ fanaticism. The
Franciscans have made it their boast, that at the time
of the Irish massacre there appeared among the rebels
more than six hundred Friars Minorite, who had
been instigating them to that accursed rebellion while
living among them in disguise.
Charles II. restored to the Irish Church all the impro-
priations and portions of tithes which had been vested
in the crown; removing, by this wise and meritorious
measure, one cause of its inefficiency. When, in the
succeeding reign, the civil liberties of England were
preserved by the Church of England, the burthen of
the Revolution again fell upon Ireland. That un-
happy country became the seat of war; and from that
time the Irish Catholics stood, as a political party, in
the same relation to the French as they had done dur-
ing Elizabeth's reign to the Spaniards. The history
of Ireland is little else but a history of crimes and of
misgovernment. A system of half-persecution was
pursued, at once odious for its injustice, and contempt-
* The best living in Connaught was not worth more than forty shil-
lings a-year; and some were as low as sixteen.
L 3
150 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
ible for its inefficacy. Good principles and generous
feelings were thereby provoked into an alliance with
superstition and priestcraft; and the priests, whom
the law recognised only for the purpose of punishing
them if they discharged the forms of their office, esta-
blished a more absolute dominion over the minds of
the Irish people than was possessed by the clergy in
any other part of the world.
Half a century of peace and comparative tran-
quillity, during which great advances were made in
trade, produced little or no melioration in the religious
state of the country. Sectarians of every kind, de-
script and non-descript, had been introduced in Crom-
well's time; and what proselytes they obtained were
won from the Established Church, not from the
Catholics, whom both the Dissenters and the clergy
seem to have considered as inconvertible. In truth,
the higher orders were armed against all conviction
by family pride, and old resentment, and the sense of
their wrongs; while the great body of the native Irish
were effectually secured by their language and their
ignorance, even if the priests had been less vigilant in
their duty, and the Protestants more active in theirs.
Bishop Berkeley (one of the best, wisest, and greatest
men whom Ireland, with all its fertility of genius, has
produced,) saw the evil, and perceived what ought to
be the remedy. In that admirable little book, the
Querist, from which, even at this day, men of all ranks,
from the manufacturer to the statesman, may derive
instruction, it is asked by this sagacious writer,
“Whether there be an instance of a people's being
converted, in a Christian sense, otherwise than by
preaching to them, and instructing them in their own
language? Whether catechists, in the Irish tongue,
may not easily be procured and subsisted? and whe-
ther this would not be the most practicable means for
converting the natives? Whether it be not of great
METHODISM IN IFELANID. 151
advantage to the Church of Rome, that she hath
clergy suited to all ranks of men, in gradual subordi-
nation, from cardinals down to mendicants 2 Whether
her numerous poor clergy are not very useful in
missions, and of much influence with the people 2
Whether, in defect of able missionaries, persons con-
versant in low life, and speaking the Irish tongue, if
well instructed in the first principles of religion, and
in the Popish controversy, though, for the rest, on a
level with the parish clerks, or the schoolmasters of
charity-schools, may not be fit to mix with, and bring
over our poor illiterate natives to the Established
Church? Whether it is not to be wished that some
parts of our liturgy and homilies were publicly read in
the Irish language 2 and whether, in these views, it
may not be right to breed up some of the better sort
of children in the charity-schools, and qualify them
for missionaries, catechists, and readers ?” What
Berkeley desired to see, Methodism would exactly
have supplied, could it have been taken into the ser-
vice of the Church ; and this might have been done in
Ireland, had it not been for the follies and extrava-
gances by which it had rendered itself obnoxious in
England at its commencement.
Twelve years after the publication of the Querist,
John Wesley landed in Dublin, where one of his
preachers, by name Williams, had formed a small
society. The curate of St. Mary's lent him his pulpit,
and his first essay was not very promising; for he
preached from it, he says, to as gay and senseless a
congregation as he had ever seen. The clergyman
who gave this proof of his good will disapproved,
however, of his employing lay preachers, and of his
preaching any where but in a church; and told him,
that the Archbishop of Dublin was resolved to suffer
no such irregularities in his diocese. Wesley therefore
called on the archbishop, and says, that, in the course
L 4
152 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
of a long conversation, he answered abundance of ob-
jections; some, perhaps, he removed; and if he did
not succeed in persuading the prelate of the utility of
Methodism, he must certainly have satisfied him that
he was not to be prevented from pursuing his own
COUll’S62.
Wesley's first impressions of the Irish were very
favourable: a people so generally civil he had never
seen, either in Europe or America. Even when he
failed to impress them, they listened respectfully.
“Mockery,” said he, “is not the custom here: all
attend to what is spoken in the name of God. They
do not understand the making sport with sacred
things; so that, whether they approve or not, they be-
have with seriousness.” He even thought that, if he
or his brother could have remained a few months at
Dublin, they might have formed a larger society than
in London, the people in general being of a more
teachable spirit than in most parts of England; but, on
that very account, he observed, they must be watched
over with the more care, being equally susceptible
of good or ill impressions. “What a nation,” he says,
“is this every man, woman, and child, except a few
of the great vulgar, not only patiently, but gladly,
suffer the work of exhortation l’” And he called them
an immeasurably loving people. There was, indeed,
no cause to complain of insensibility in his hearers, as
in Scotland. He excited as much curiosity and atten-
tion as he could desire ; but if Methodism had been
opposed by popular outcry, and by mobs, in England,
it was not to be expected that it could proceed without
molestation in Ireland. In Wesley's own words, “the
roaring lion began to shake himself here also.”
The Romish priests were the first persons to take
the alarm. One of them would sometimes come, when
a Methodist was preaching, and drive away his hearers
like a flock of sheep. A Catholic mob broke into their
-METHODISM IN IRELAND. 153
room at Dublin, and destroyed every thing: several
of the rioters were apprehended, but the grand jury
threw out the bills against them; for there were but
too many of the Protestants who thought the Method-
ists fair game. It happened that Cennick, preaching
on Christmas-day, took for his text these words from
St. Luke's Gospel: “And this shall be a sign unto
you: ye shall find the babe, wrapped in swaddling
clothes, lying in a manger.” A Catholic who was
present, and to whom the language of Scripture was
a novelty, thought this so ludicrous, that he called the
preacher a Swaddler, in derision; and this unmeaning
word became the nickname of the Methodists, and had
all the effect of the most opprobrious appellation. At
length, when Charles Wesley was at Cork, a mob was
raised against him and his followers in that city, under
the guidance of one Nicholas Butler, who went about
the streets dressed in a clergyman's gown and band,
with a Bible in one hand, and a bundle of ballads for
sale in the other. Strange as it may appear, this
blackguard relied upon the approbation and encourage-
ment of the mayor; and when that magistrate was
asked whether he gave Butler leave to beset the houses
of the Methodists with a mob, and was required to
put a stop to the riots, he replied, that he neither gave
him leave nor hindered him : and when, with much
importunity, a man, whose house was attacked, pre-
vailed upon him to repair to the spot, and, as he
supposed, afford him some protection, the mayor said
aloud, in the midst of the rabble, “It is your own
fault, for entertaining these preachers. If you will
turn them out of your house, I will engage there shall
be no more harm done; but if you will not turn them
out, you must take what you will get.” Upon this
the mob set up a huzza, and threw stones faster than
before. The poor man exclaimed, “This is fine usage
under a Protestant government If I had a priest
154 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
saying mass in every room of it, my house would not
be touched:” to which the mayor made answer, that
“the priests were tolerated, but he was not.”
These riots continued many days. The mob
paraded the streets, armed with swords, staves, and
pistols, crying out, “Five pounds for a Swaddler's
head!” Many persons, women as well as men, were
bruised and wounded, to the imminent danger of their
lives. Depositions of these outrages were taken and
laid before the grand jury; but they threw out all the
bills; and, instead of affording relief or justice to the
injured persons, preferred bills against Charles Wesley
and nine of the Methodists, as persons of ill fame, vaga-
bonds, and common disturbers of His Majesty's peace,
praying that they might be transported. Butler was
now in high glory, and declared that he had full
liberty to do whatever he would, even to murder, if
he pleased. The prejudice against the Methodists
must have been very general, as well as strong, before
a Protestant magistrate, and a Protestant grand jury,
in Ireland, would thus abet a Catholic rabble in their
excesses; especially when the Romans, as they called
themselves, designated the Methodists as often by the
title of heretic dogs, as by any less comprehensive
appellation. The cause must be found partly in the
doctrines of the Methodists, and partly in their con-
duct. Their notions of perfection and assurance
might well seem fanatical, in the highest degree, if
brought forward, as they mostly were, by ignorant
and ardent men, who were not, like the Wesleys,
careful to explain and qualify the rash and indefen-
sible expressions. The watch-nights gave reasonable
ground for scandal; and the zeal of the preachers was
not tempered with discretion, or softened by humanity.
One of them asked a young woman whether she had
a mind to go to hell with her father; and Mr. Wesley
himself, in a letter upon the proceedings at Cork,
METHODISM IN IRELAND. 155
justified this brutality so far as to declare, that, un-
less he knew the circumstances of the case, he could
not say whether it was right or wrong!”
Several of the persons, whom the grand jury had
presented as vagabonds, appeared at the next assizes.
Butler was the first witness against them. Upon
being asked what his calling might be, he replied, “I
sing ballads.” Upon which the Judge lifted up his
hands, and said, “Here are six gentlemen indicted as
vagabonds, and the first accuser is a vagabond by
* This person, whose name was Jonathan Reeves, only acted upon a
principle which had been established at the third Conference. The
following part of the minutes upon that subject is characteristic:—
Q. 1. Can an unbeliever (whatever he be in other respects) challenge
any thing of God’s justice P
A. Absolutely nothing but hell. And this is a point which we cannot
too much insist on.
Q. 2. Do we empty men of their own righteousness, as we did at first P
Do we sufficiently labour, when they begin to be convinced of sin, to
take away all they lean upon P Should we not then endeavour, with all
our might, to overturn their false foundations P
A. This was at first one of our principal points; and it ought to be
so still ; for, till all other foundations are overturned, they cannot build
upon Christ.
Q. 3. Did we not then purposely throw them into convictions; into
strong sorrow and fear P Nay, did we not strive to make them incon-
solable ; refusing to be comforted P
A. We did ; and so we should do still ; for the stronger the convic-
tion, the speedier is the deliverance: and none so soon receive the peace
of God as those who steadily refuse all other comfort.
Q. 4. Let us consider a particular case. Were you, Jonathan
Reeves, before you received the peace of God, convinced that, notwith-
standing all you did, or could do, you were in a state of damnation ?
J. R. I was convinced of it, as fully as that I am now alive.
Q. 5. Are you sure that conviction was from God P
J. R. I can have no doubt but that it was.
Q. 6. What do you mean by a state of damnation ?
J. R. A state wherein if a man dies he perishes for ever.t
+ If for justice we put holiness, what is there in this series of Q. and
A. to which a scriptural Christian can positively object P Is it not most :
true that we must be bottomed in Christ alone P And if so, must we
not be unbottomed of all else. —S. T. C. — 27th August, 1832.
156 .METHODISM IN IRELAND.
profession "... The next witness, in reply to the same
question, replied, “I am an Anti-swaddler, my Lord ;”
and the examination ended in his being ordered out
of court for contempt. The Judge delivered such an
opinion as became him, upon the encouragement which
had been given to the rioters. In the ensuing year
Wesley himself visited Cork, and preached in a place
called Hammond's Marsh, to a numerous but quiet
assembly. As there was a report that the mayor in-
tended to prevent him from preaching at that place
again, Wesley, with more deference to authority than
he had shown in England, desired two of his friends
to wait upon him, and say, that if his preaching there
would be offensive, he would give up the intention.
The mayor did not receive this concession graciously:
he replied, in anger, that there were churches and
meetings enough; he would have no more mobs and
riots—no more preaching; and if Mr. Wesley at-
tempted to preach, he was prepared for him. Some
person had said, in reply to one who observed that the
Methodists were tolerated by the king, they should find
that the mayor was king of Cork; and Mr. Wesley
now found, that there was more meaning in this
than he had been disposed to allow. When next he
began preaching in the Methodist room, the mayor
sent the drummers to drum before the door. A great
mob was by this means collected; and when Wesley
came out of the house, they closed him in. He
appealed to one of the serjeants to protect him ; but
the man replied, he had no orders to do so; and the
rabble began to pelt him : by pushing on, however,
and looking them fairly in the face, with his wonted
composure, he made way, and they opened to let him
pass. But a cry was set up, “Hey for the Romans !”
The congregation did not escape so well as the leader:
many of them were roughly handled, and covered
with mud; the house was presently gutted, the floors
METHODISM IN IRELAND. 157
were torn up, and, with the window-frames and doors,
carried into the street and burnt: and the next day
the mob made a grand procession, and burnt Mr.
Wesley in effigy. The house was a second time at-
tacked, and the boards demolished which had been
nailed against the windows; and a fellow posted up a
Inotice at the public exchange, with his name affixed,
that he was ready to head any mob, in order to pull
down any house that should harbour a Swaddler.
The press also was employed against the Methodists,
but with little judgement, and less honesty. One
writer accused Mr. Wesley of “robbing and plun-
dering the poor, so as to leave them neither bread to
eat, nor raiment to put on.” He replied victoriously
to this accusation: “A heavy charge,” said he, “but
without all colour of truth; yea, just the reverse is
true. Abundance of those in Cork, Bandon, Limerick,
and Dublin, as well as in all parts of England, who,
a few years ago, either through sloth or profaneness,
had not bread to eat, or raiment to put on, have now,
by means of the preachers called Methodists, a suf-
ficiency of both. Since, by hearing these, they have
learned to fear God, they have learned also to work
with their hands, as well as to cut off every needless
expense, and to be good stewards of the mammon of
unrighteousness.” He averred also, that the effect of
his preaching had reconciled disaffected persons to the
government; and that they who became Methodists
were, at the same time, made loyal subjects. He
reminded his antagonists, that when one of the
English bishops had been asked what could be done
to stop these new preachers, the prelate had replied,
“If they preach contrary to Scripture, confute them
by Scripture; if contrary to reason, confute them by
reason. But beware you use no other weapons than
these, either in opposing error or defending the
158 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
truth.” He complained that, instead of fair and
honourable argument, he had been assailed at Cork
with gross falsehoods, mean abuse, and base scur-
rility. He challenged any of his antagonists, or any
who would come forward to meet him on even
ground, writing as a gentleman to a gentleman, a
scholar to a scholar, a clergyman to a clergyman.
“Let them,” said he, “thus show me wherein I have
preached or written amiss, and I will stand reproved
before all the world; but let them not continue to put
persecution in the place of reason: either private per-
secution, stirring up husbands to threaten or beat their
wives, parents their children, masters their servants;
gentlemen to ruin their tenants, labourers, or trades-
men, by turning them out of their favour or cottages;
employing or buying of them no more, because they
worship God according to their own conscience: or
open, bare-faced, noon-day Cork persecution, breaking
open the houses of His Majesty's Protestant subjects,
destroying their goods, spoiling or tearing the very
clothes from their backs; striking, bruising, wound-
ing, murdering them in the streets; dragging them
through the mire, without any regard to age or sex,
not sparing even those of tender years; no, nor
women, though great with child; but, with more than
Pagan or Mahometan barbarity, destroying infants
that were yet unborn.” He insisted, truly, that this
was a common cause; for, if the Methodists were not
protected, what protection would any men have 2
what security for their goods or lives, if a mob were
to be both judge, jury, and executioner? “I fear
God, and honour the King,” said he. “I earnestly
desire to be at peace with all men. I have not,
willingly, given any offence, either to the magistrates,
the clergy, or any of the inhabitants of the city of
Cork; neither do I desire any thing of them, but to
|METHODISM IN IRELAND. 159
be treated (I will not say as a clergyman, a gentle-
man, or a Christian,) with such justice and humanity
as are due to a Jew, a Turk, or a Pagan.”
Whitefield visited Ireland, for the first time, in the
ensuing year, and found himself the safer for the late
transactions. Such outrages had compelled the higher
powers to interfere; and when he arrived at Cork, the
populace was in a state of due subordination. He
seems to have regarded the conduct of Wesley and his
lay preachers with no favourable eye: some dreadful
offences, he said, had been given; and he condemned
all politics, as below the children of God; alluding,
apparently, to the decided manner in which Wesley
always inculcated obedience to government as one of
the duties of a Christian ; making it his boast, that
whoever became a Methodist, became at the same
time a good subject. Though his success was not so
brilliant as in Scotland, it was still sufficient to en-
courage and cheer him. “Providence,” says he,
“has wonderfully prepared my way, and overruled
every thing for my greater acceptance. Every where
there seems to be a stirring among the dry bones;
and the trembling lamps of God’s people have been
supplied with fresh oil. The word ran, and was
glorified.” Hundreds prayed for him when he left
Cork; and many of the Catholics said that, if he
would stay, they would leave their priests; but on a
second expedition to Ireland, Whitefield narrowly
escaped with his life. He had been well received,
and had preached once or twice, on week days, in
Oxminton Green; a place which he describes as the
Moorfields of Dublin. The Ormond Boys, and the
Liberty Boys (these were the current denominations
of the mob-factions at that time) generally assembled
there every Sunday—to fight; and Whitefield, mind-
ful, no doubt, of his success in a former enterprise
under like circumstances, determined to take the field
160 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
on that day, relying on the interference of the officers
and soldiers, whose barracks were close by, if he
should stand in need of protection. The singing,
praying, and preaching went on without much in-
terruption; only, now and then, a few stones, and a
few clods of dirt, were thrown. After the sermon,
he prayed for success to the Prussian arms, it being
in time of war. Whether this prayer offended the
party-spirit of his hearers, – or whether the mere fact
of his being a heretic, who went about seeking to
make proselytes, had excited in the Catholic part of the
mob a determined spirit of vengeance, — or whether,
without any principle of hatred or personal dislike,
they considered him as a bear, bull, or badger, whom
they had an opportunity of tormenting, —the barracks,
through which he intended to return, as he had come,
were closed against him; and when he endeavoured
to make his way across the green, the rabble assailed
him. “Many attacks,” says he, “have I had from
Satan's children, but now you would have thought he
had been permitted to have given me an effectual
parting blow.” Volleys of stones came from all
quarters, while he reeled to and fro under the blows,
till he was almost breathless, and covered with blood.
A strong beaver hat, which served him for a while as
a Scull-cap, was knocked off at last, and he then re-
ceived many blows and wounds on the head, and one
large one near the temple. “I thought of Stephen,”
says he, “and was in great hopes that, like him, I
should be despatched, and go off, in this bloody
triumph, to the immediate presence of my Master.”
The door of a minister's house was opened for him in
time, and he staggered in, and was sheltered there,
till a coach could be brought, and he was conveyed
safely away. -
The bitter spirit of the more ignorant Catholics
was often exemplified. The itinerants were frequently
THOMAS WALSHI. 16I
told, that it would be doing both God and the Church
service to burn all such as them in one fire; and One
of them, when he first went into the county of Kerry,
was received with the threat that they would kill him,
and make whistles of his bones. Another was nearly
murdered by a ferocious mob, one of whom set his
foot upon his face, swearing that he would tread the
Holy Ghost out of him. At Kilkenny, where the
Catholics were not strong enough to make a riot with
much hope of success, they gnashed at Wesley with
their teeth, after he had been preaching in an old
bowling-green, near the Castle; and one of them cried,
“Och what is Kilkenny come to l’ But it was from
among the Irish Catholics that Wesley obtained one
of the most interesting of his coadjutors, and one of
the most efficient also during his short life.
THOMAS WALSH, whom the Methodists justly reckon
among their most distinguished members, was the
son of a carpenter at Bally Lynn, in the county of
Limerick. His parents were strong Romanists: they
taught him the Lord's Prayer and the Ave Maria in
Irish, which was his mother tongue, and the Hundred-
and-thirtieth Psalm in Latin; and he was taught also,
that all who differ from the Church of Rome are in a
state of damnation. At eight years old he went to
school to learn English; and was afterwards placed
with one of his brothers, who was a schoolmaster, to
learn Latin and mathematics. At nineteen he opened
a school for himself. The brother, by whom he was
instructed, had been intended for the priesthood: he
was a man of tolerable learning, and of an inquiring
mind, and seeing the errors of the Romish Church, he
renounced it. This occasioned frequent disputes with
Thomas Walsh, who was a strict Catholic; the one
alleging the traditions and canons of the Church, the
other appealing to the law and to the testimony,
VOL. II. M.
162 METIIODISM IN IRELAND.
“My brother, why do you not read God's word?”
the elder would say. “Lay aside prejudice, and let
us reason together.” After many struggles between
the misgivings of his mind, and the attachment to the
opinions in which he had been bred up, and the
thought of his parents, and shame, and the fear of
man, this state of suspense became intolerable, and he
prayed to God in his trouble. “All things are known
to Thee,” he said, in his prayer; “and Thou seest
that I want to worship Thee aright ! Show me the
way wherein I ought to go, nor suffer me to be de-
ceived by men l’”
He then went to his brother, determined either to
convince him, or to be convinced. Some other persons
of the Protestant persuasion were present: they
brought a Bible, and with it Nelson’s “Festivals and
Fasts of the Church of England;” and, with these
books before them, they discussed the subject till
midnight. It ended in his fair and complete con-
version. “I was constrained,” said he, “to give place
to the light of truth: it was so convincing, that I had
nothing more to say. I was judged of all; and at
length confessed the weakness of my former reason-
ings, and the strength of those which were opposed
to me. About one o'clock in the morning I retired
to my lodging, and, according to my usual custom,
went to prayer; but now only to the God of heaven.
I no longer prayed to any angel or spirit; for I was
deeply persuaded, that “there is but one God, and one
Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus.’
Therefore I resolved no longer to suffer any man to
beguile me into a voluntary humility, in worshipping
either saints or angels. These latter I considered as
‘ministering spirits, sent to minister to them who
shall be heirs of salvation.' But with regard to any
worship being paid them, one of themselves said,
‘See thou do it not; worship God, God only.’ All
THOMAS WALSII. 163
my sophisms on this head were entirely overthrown
by a few hours candid reading the Holy Scriptures,
which were become as a lantern to my feet, and a
lamp to my paths, directing me in the way wherein I
should go.” Soon afterwards he publicly abjured the
errors of the Church of Rome.*
* His disposition would have made him a saint in that church, but
his principles were truly catholic, in the proper sense of that abused
word. “I bear them witness,” says he, speaking of the Romanists,
“ that they have a zeal for God, though not according unto knowledge.
Many of them love justice, mercy, and truth; and may, notwithstanding
many errors in sentiment, and therefore in practice, (since, as is God’s
majesty, so is his mercy,) be dealt with accordingly. There have been,
doubtless, and still are, amongst them, some burning and shining lights;
persons who (whatever their particular sentiments may be) are devoted
to the service of Jesus Christ, according as their light and opportunities
admit. And, in reality, whatever opinions people may hold, they are
most approved of God whose temper and behaviour correspond with
the model of his holy word. This, however, can be no justification of
general and public unscriptural tenets, such as are many of those of the
Church of Rome. It may be asked, then, why did I leave their com-
munion, since I thought so favourably of them P I answer, Because I
was abundantly convinced that, as a church, they have erred from the
right way, and adulterated the truths of God with the inventions and
traditions of men ; which the Scriptures, and even celebrated writers of
themselves, abundantly testify. God is my witness, that the sole motive
which induced me to leave them, was an unfeigned desire to know the
way of God more perfectly, in order to the salvation of my soul. For
although I them felt, and do yet feel, my heart to be, as the prophet
speaks, deceitful and desperately wicked, with regard to God; yet I
was sincere in my reformation, having from the Holy Spirit an earnest
desire to save my soul. If it should still be asked, But could I not be
saved P I answer, If I had never known the truth of the Scriptures
concerning the way of salvation, nor been convinced that their principles
were anti-scriptural, then I might possibly have been saved in her com-
munion, the merciful God making allowance for my invincible igno-
rance. But I freely profess, that now, since God hath enlightened my
mind, and given me to see the truth, as it is in Jesus, if I had still com-
tinued a member of the Church of Rome, I could not have been saved.
With regard to others, I say nothing: I know that every man must
bear his own burden, and give an account of himself to God. To
our own Master, both they or I must stand or fall, for ever. But love,
however, and tender compassion for their souls, constrained me to pour
out a prayer to God in their behalf: — All souls are thine, O Lord God;
and Thou willest all to come to the knowledge of the truth, and be saved.
For this end Thou didst give thy only-begotten Son, that whosoever
believeth in Him might not perish, but have everlasting life. I beseech
M 2
164 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
This had been a sore struggle: a more painful part
of his progress was yet to come. He read the Scrip-
tures diligently, and the works of some of the most
eminent Protestant divines: his conviction was con-
firmed by this course of study; and, from perceiving
clearly the fallacious nature and evil consequences of
the doctrine of merits, as held by the Romanists, a
dismal view of human nature opened upon him. His
Soul was not at rest: it was no longer harassed by
doubts; but the peace of God was wanting. In this
state of mind, he happened one evening to be passing
along the main street in Limerick, when he saw a
great crowd on the Parade, and turning aside to know
for what they were assembled, found that Robert
Swindells, one of the first itinerants in Ireland, was
then delivering a sermon in the open air. The
preacher was earnestly enforcing the words of our
Redeemer — words which are worth more than all
the volumes of philosophy: “Come unto me, all ye
that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you
rest Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me;
for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find
rest unto your souls For my yoke is easy, and my
burden is light.” Walsh was precisely in that state
which rendered him a fit recipient for the doctrines
which he now first heard. He caught the fever of
Methodism, and it went through its regular course
with all the accustomed symptoms.” Some weeks
he remained in a miserable condition: he could find
no rest, either by night or day. “When I prayed,”
thee, O etermal God, show thy tender mercies upon those poor souls who
have been long deluded by the god of this world, the Pope, and his
clergy. Jesus, thou lover of souls, and friend of sinners, send to them
thy light and thy truth, that they may lead them. Oh let thy bowels
yearn over them, and call those straying sheep, now perishing for the
lack of knowledge, to the light of thy word, which is able to make them
wise to salvation, through faith which is in Thee.”
THOMAS WALSH. 1.65
says he, “I was troubled; when I heard a sermon, I
was pierced as with darts and arrows.” He could
neither sleep nor eat : his body gave way under this
mental suffering, and at length he took to his bed.
After a while the reaction began: fear and wretch-
edness gradually gave place to the love of God, and
the strong desire for salvation : and the crisis was
brought on at a meeting, where, he says, “the power
of the Lord came down in the midst of them : the
windows of heaven were opened, and the skies poured
down righteousness, and his heart melted like wax
before the fire.” To the psychologist it may be
* Alas ! What more or worse could a young infidel spitaller, fresh
from the lectures of some facetious infidel anatomist or physiologist,
have wished, than to have the sense of the utter vileness and helpless-
ness of man left to himself, gradually followed by the conviction of an
Almighty Helper — than to have “THE LovE of GoD AND THE
STRONG DESIRE FOR SALVATION,” represented as so many regular symp-
toms and crises of a bodily disease 8 Oh I am almost inclined to send
this my copy of his work to R. Southey, with the notes, for my heart
bears him witness that he offendeth not willingly.
P.S. (three years at least later than the above). — And I, who had
forgotten and was unconscious that I had written the preceding note,
had, but a few days ago, and but a few pages back, written one to the
very purpose, and in the very same spirit, which I had condemned in
Southey. “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” But as to the point itself,
verily I know not what to say more than this, – that if I decide in
favour of the opinion that these experiences have their proper seat and
origin in the nervous system, and are to be solved pathologically, it is
not for want of a strong inclination to believe the contrary. But the
descriptions, even of such men as Haliburton and Walsh, are so vague,
so entirely sensational 1–nothing in the mind that was not there before;
only a glow, a vividness over all, as in dreams after I have taken a
dose of calomel, or as I have described the fishermen with their nets
on the ice, in the blaze of a winter sunset on the Lake of Ratzeburg.
Combine the state of mind and body that follows the sudden re-
moval of violent pain, with the freshness and delicious tenderness of
convalescence, and add to these the elevation of religious hopes and calls
to duties aweful as the immortal soul—and nothing, it seems to me,
remains unsolved but the sudden outcry, the birth-throe. Nothing P
But is not this (Zinzendorf might reply) only not all However
essentially insensible the prevenient and coincident operation of the
Divine Spirit on the will, yet the will cannot be denied to exert
an action on the body; which action is itself indeed likewise insen-
M 3
166 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
interesting to know by what words this state of mind
was induced. It was by the exclamation of the
prophet, “Who is this that cometh from Edom, with
dyed garments from Bozrah; this that is glorious in
his apparel, travelling in the greatness of his strength?’”
a passage which, with that that follows, is in the
highest strain of lyric sublimity: it might seem little
likely to convey comfort to a spirit which had long
been inconsolable ; but its effect was like that of a
spark of fire upon materials which are ready to burst
into combustion. He cried aloud in the congregation;
and, when the throe was past, declared that he had
now found rest, and was filled with joy and peace in
believing. - -
“And now,” says he, “I felt of a truth, that faith
is the substance, or subsistence, of things hoped for,
and the evidence of things not seen. God, and the
things of the invisible world, of which I had only
heard before, by the hearing of the ear, appeared now
in their true light, as substantial realities. Faith
gave me to see a reconciled God, and an all-sufficient
Saviour. The kingdom of God was within me. I
drew water out of the wells of salvation. I walked
and talked with God all the day long: whatsoever I
believed to be his will, I did with my whole heart.
I could unfeignedly love them that hated me, and
pray for them that despitefully used and persecuted
me. The commandments of God were my delight:
I not only rejoiced evermore, but prayed without
ceasing, and in every thing gave thanks: whether I
sible (inasmuch as the will too is spiritual); but the consequent of
which, viz. the act or reaction of the body, must be sensible. Be it so Yet
in what would this differ (except in the manner of expression) from the
former hypothesis, that the experience in question consists of a nervous
explosion occasioned by mental efforts P. If Southey were by, he would
perhaps inform me, up to what age he had been able to trace the Mora-
vian notion of a Durchbruch, Diarrhexis, or thorough-break of the new
life — whether any thing like it is to be found in the Fathers, or in
Epiphanias's account of the heretical sects 1—S. T. C.
THOMAS WALSH. 167
ate or drank, or whatever I did, it was in the name
of the Lord Jesus, and to the glory of God.” This
case is the more remarkable, because the subject was
of a calm and thoughtful mind, a steady and well-
regulated temper, and a melancholy temperament.
He had now to undergo more obloquy and ill-will
than had been brought upon him by his renunciation
of the errors of the Romish Church. That change his
relations thought was bad enough ; but, to become a
Methodist, was worse, and they gave him up as
undone for ever: and not his relations only, nor the
Romanists. “Acquaintances and neighbours,” says
he, “ rich and poor, old and young, clergy and laity,
were all against me. Some said I was an hypocrite;
others, that I was mad; others, judging more fa-
vourably, that I was deceived. Reformed and unre-
formed I found to be just alike ; and that many who
spoke against the Pope and the Inquisition were
themselves in reality of the same disposition.”
Convinced that it was his duty now to become a
minister of that Gospel which he had received, he
offered his services to Mr. Wesley, as one who be-
lieved, and that not hastily or lightly, but after
ardent aspirations, and continued prayer and study
of the Scriptures, that he was inwardly moved by
the Holy Spirit to take upon himself that office. He
had prepared himself by diligent study of the Scrip-
tures, which he read often upon his knees: and the
prayer which he was accustomed to use at such
times, may excite the admiration of those even in
whom it shall fail to find sympathy: “Lord Jesus, I
lay my soul at thy feet, to be taught and governed
by Thee. Take the veil from the mystery, and show
me the truth as it is in Thyself. Be Thou my sun
and star, by day and by night !” Wesley told him it
was hard to judge what God had called him to, till
trial had been made. He encouraged him to make
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168 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
the trial, and desired him to preach in Irish. The
command of that language gave him a great advan-
tage. It was long ago said in Ireland, “When you
plead for your life, plead in Irish.” Even the poor
Catholics listened willingly, when they were addressed
in their mother tongue: his hearers frequently shed
silent tears, and frequently sobbed aloud, and cried
for mercy; and in country towns the peasantry, who,
going there upon market-day, had stopt to hear the
preacher, from mere wonder and curiosity, were
oftentimes melted into tears, and declared that they
could follow him all over the world. One, who had
laid aside some money, which he intended to be-
queath, for the good of his soul, to some priest or
friar, offered to bequeath it to him if he would accept
it. In conversation, too, and upon all the occasions
which occurred in daily life — at inns, and upon the
highway, and in the streets — this remarkable man
omitted no opportunity of giving religious exhortation
to those who needed it; taking care always not to
shock the prejudices of those whom he addressed, and
to adapt his speech to their capacity. Points of dis-
pute, whether they regarded the difference of churches,
or of doctrines, he wisely avoided : sin, and death,
and judgement, and redemption, were his themes;
and upon these themes he enforced so powerfully, at
such times, that the beggars, to whom he frequently
addressed himself in the streets, would fall on their
knees, and beat their breasts, weeping, and crying
for mercy.
Many calumnies were invented to counteract the
effect which this zealous labourer produced wherever
he went. It was spread abroad that he had been a
servant boy to a Romish priest; and having stolen his
master's books, he learned by that means to preach.
But it was not from the Catholics alone that he met
with opposition. He was once waylaid near the town
THOMAS WALSHI. 169
of Rosgrea, by about fourscore men, armed with
sticks, and bound by oath in a confederacy against
him: they were so liberal a mob, that, provided they
could reclaim him from Methodism, they appeared not
to care what they made of him; and they insisted
upon bringing a Romish priest, and a minister of the
Church of England, to talk with him. Walsh, with
great calmness, explained to them, that he contended
with no man concerning opinions, nor preached
against particular churches, but against sin and
wickedness in all. And he so far succeeded in
mitigating their disposition toward him, that they
offered to let him go, provided he would swear never
again to come to Rosgrea. Walsh would rather have
suffered martyrdom than have submitted to such an
oath; and martyrdom was the alternative which they
proposed; for they carried him into the town, where
the whole rabble surrounded him ; and it was deter-
mined that he should either swear, or be put into
a well. The courage with which he refused to bind
himself by any oath or promise, made him friends
even among so strange an assembly: Some cried out
vehemently that he should go into the well; others
took his part: in the midst of the uproar, the parish
minister came up, and, by his interference, Walsh.
was permitted to depart. At another country town,
about twenty miles from Cork, the magistrate, who
was the rector of the place, declared he would commit
him to prison, if he did not promise to preach no
more in those parts. Walsh replied, by asking if
there were no swearers, drunkards, Sabbath-breakers,
and the like, in those parts; adding that, if, after he
should have preached there a few times, there
appeared no reformation among them, he would never
come there again. Not satisfied with such a proposal,
the magistrate committed him to prison: but Walsh
was popular in that town ; the people manifested
170 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
a great interest in his behalf; he preached to them
from the prison-window, and it was soon thought
advisable to release him. He was more cruelly
handled by the Presbyterians in the north of Ireland:
the usage which he received from a mob of that per-
suasion, and the exertions which he made to escape
from them, threw him into a fever, which confined
him for some time to his bed : and he professed that,
in all his journeyings, and in his intercourse among
people of many or most denominations, he had met
with no such treatment ; no, not even from the most
enraged of the Romanists themselves.
The life of Thomas Walsh might almost convince
a Catholic that saints are to be found in other
communions, as well as in the Church of Rome.
Theopathy was, in him, not merely the ruling, it was
the only passion: his intellect was of no common
order; but this passion, in its excess, acted like a
disease upon a mind that was by constitution melan-
choly. To whatever church he had belonged, the
elements of his character would have been the same :
the only difference would have been in its manifest-
ation. As a Romanist, he might have retired to a
cell or an hermitage, contented with securing his own
salvation, by perpetual austerity and prayer, and a
course of continual self-tormenting. But he could
not have been more dead to the world, nor more
entirely possessed by a devotional spirit. His friends
described him as appearing like one who had returned
from the other world: and perhaps it was this un-
earthly manner which induced a Romish priest to
assure his flock that the Walsh who had turned
heretic, and went about preaching, was dead long
since ; and that he who preached under that name,
was the Devil, in his shape. It is said that he walked
through the streets of London with as little attention
to all things around him, as if he had been in a
THOMAS WALSHI. 171
wilderness, unobservant of whatever would have
attracted the sight of others, and as indifferent to all
sounds of excitement, uproar, and exultation, as to
the passing wind. He showed the same insensibility
to the influence of fine scenery and sunshine: the
only natural object, of which he spoke with feeling,
was the starry firmament, — for there he beheld
infinity.
With all this, the zeal of this extraordinary man
was such, that, as he truly said of himself, the sword
was too sharp for the scabbard. At five-and-twenty
he might have been taken for forty years of age; and
he literally wore himself out before he attained the
age of thirty, by the most unremitting and unmerciful
labour, both of body and mind. His sermons were
seldom less than an hour long, and they were loud
as well as long. Mr. Wesley always warned his
preachers against both these errors, and considered
Walsh as in some degree guilty of his own death,
by the excessive exertion which he made at such
times, notwithstanding frequent advice, and frequent
resolutions, to restrain the vehemence of his spirit.
He was not less intemperate in study. Wesley ac-
Knowledged him to be the best biblical scholar whom
he had ever known : if he were questioned concern-
ing any Hebrew word in the Old, or any Greek one in
the New Testament, he would tell, after a pause, how
often it occurred in the Bible, and what it meant in
every place. Hebrew was his favourite study: he
regarded it as a language of divine origin, and there-
fore perfect: “O truly laudable and worthy study 1"
he exclaims concerning it: “O industry above all
praise ! whereby a man is enabled to converse with
God, with holy angels, with patriarchs, and with pro-
phets, and clearly to unfold to men the mind of God
from the language of God l’ And he was persuaded
that he had not attained the full and familiar know-
172 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
ledge of it, which he believed that he possessed, with-
out special assistance from Heaven. At this study
he frequently sate up late; and his general time of
rising was at four. When he was entreated to allow
himself more sleep, by one who saw that he was
wasting away to death, his reply was, “Should a
man rob God?” His friends related things of him
which would have been good evidence in a suit for
canonisation. Sometimes he was lost, they say, in
glorious absence, on his knees, with his face heaven-
ward, and arms clasped round his breast, in such
composure, that scarcely could he be perceived to
breathe. His soul seemed absorbed in God; and
from the serenity, and “ something resembling splen-
dour, which appeared on his countenance, and in all
his gestures afterwards, it might easily be discovered
what he had been about.” Even in sleep, the devo-
tional habit still predominated, and “his soul went
out in groans, and sighs, and tears to God.” They
bear witness to his rapts and ecstasies, and record
circumstances which they themselves believed to be
proofs of his communion with the invisible world.
With all this intense devotion, the melancholy of his
disposition always predominated: and though he
held the doctrines of sanctification and assurance,
and doubted not but that his pardon was sealed by
the blood of the covenant, no man was ever more
distressed in mind, nor laboured under a greater
dread of death. Even when he was enforcing the
vital truths of religion, with the whole force of his
intellect, and with all his heart, and soul, and strength,
thoughts would come across him which he considered
as diabolical suggestions; and he speaks with horror
of the agony which he endured in resisting them.
Indeed he was thoroughly persuaded that he was an
especial object of hatred to the Devil. This per-
suasion supplied a ready solution for the nervous
THOMAS WALSH. 173
affections to which he was subject, and, in all like-
lihood, frequently produced those abhorred thoughts,
which were to him a confirmation of that miserable
belief. Romish superstition affords a remedy for this
disease; for, if relics and images fail to avert the fit,
the cilice and the scourge amuse the patient with the
belief that he is adding to his stock of merits, and
distress of mind is commuted for the more tolerable
sense of bodily pain.
For many years Mr. Wesley kept up an interchange
of preachers between England and Ireland; and when
Walsh was in London, he preached in Irish at a place
called Short's Garden, and in Moorfields. Many of
his poor countrymen were attracted by the desire of
hearing their native tongue; and as others also
gathered round, wondering at the novelty, he ad-
dressed them afterwards in English. But, on such
Occasions, mere sound and sympathy will sometimes
do the work, without the aid of intelligible words.”
It is related in Walsh's Life, that once, in Dublin,
when he was preaching in Irish, among those who
were affected by the discourse, there was one man
“cut to the heart,” though he did not understand
the language. Whatever language he used, he was a
powerful preacher; and contributed more than any
other man to the diffusion of Methodism in Ireland.
All circumstances were as favourable for the progress
* The most extraordinary convert that ever was made, was a certain
William Heazley, in the county of Antrim, a man who was deaf and
dumb from his birth. By mere imitation, and the desire of being like
his neighbours, he was converted, in the 25th year of his age, from a
profligate life; for his delight had been in drinking, cock-fighting, and
other brutal amusements. On the days when the leader of the Society
was expected, he used to watch for him, and run from house to house to
assemble the people ; and he would appear exceedingly mortified if the
leader did not address him as he did the others. This man followed
the occupation of weaving linen, and occasionally shaving, which was
chiefly a Sunday’s work; but after his conversion he never would shave
any person on the Sabbath. -
174 METHODISM IN IIRELAND.
of Methodism in that country, as they were adverse
to it in Scotland: the inefficiency of the Established
Church; the total want, not of discipline alone, but of
order; and the ardour of the Irish character, of all
people the most quick and lively in their affections.
And as his opposition to the Calvinistic notions made
Wesley unpopular among the Scotch, in Ireland he
obtained a certain degree of favour for his decided
opposition to the Romish Church; while he was too
wise a man ever to provoke hostility, by introducing
any disputatious matter in his sermons. After a few
years he speaks of himself as having, he knew not
how, become an honourable man there : “The scan-
dal of the cross,” says he, “is ceased, and all the
kingdom, rich and poor, Papists and Protestants,
behave with courtesy, nay, and seeming good-will.”
Perhaps he was hardly sensible how much of this
was owing to the change which had imperceptibly
been wrought in his own conduct, by the sobering
influence of time. The ferment of his spirit had
abated, and his language had become far less indis-
creet; nor indeed had he ever, in Ireland, provoked
the indignation of good men, by the extravagances
which gave such just offence in England at the be-
ginning of his career. Some of the higher clergy,
therefore, approved and countenanced his labours;
and it would not have been difficult, in that country,
to have made the Methodists as subservient to the
interests of the Established Church, as the Regulars
are to the Church of Rome.
Among so susceptible a people, it might be ex-
pected that curious effects would frequently be pro-
duced by the application of so strong a stimulant. A
lady wrote from Dublin to Mr. Wesley in the follow-
ing remarkable words: “Reverend Sir, The most
miserable and guilty of all the human race, who
knew you when she thought herself one of the hap-
METHODISM IN ITRELAND. 175
piest, may be ashamed to write, or speak to you, in
her present condition ; but the desperate misery of
my state makes me attempt any thing that may be a
means of removing it. My request is, that you, dear
Sir, and such of your happy people who meet in band,
and ever heard the name of that miserable wretch P.T.,
would join in fasting and prayer on a Tuesday, the day
on which I was born, that the Lord would have mercy
on me, and deliver me from the power of the Devil,
from the most uncommon blasphemies, and the ex-
pectation of hell, which I labour under, without power
to pray, or hope for mercy. May be the Lord may
change my state, and have mercy on me, for the sake
of his people's prayer. Indeed I cannot pray for my-
self; and, if I could, I have no hopes of being heard.
Nevertheless, He, seeing his people afflicted for me,
may, on that account, deliver me from the power of
the Devil. Oh, what a hell have I upon earth ! I
would not charge God foolishly, for he has been very
merciful to me; but I brought all this evil on myself
by sin, and by not making a right use of his mercy.
Pray continually for me; for the prayer of faith will
shut and open heaven. It may be a means of my
deliverance, which will be one of the greatest miracles
of mercy ever known.” -
If Mr. Wesley received this letter in time, it cannot
be doubted but that he would have complied with the
request. The unhappy writer was in Swift's Hos-
pital; and, perhaps, in consequence of not receiving
an answer to her letter, she got her mother to address
a similar one to the preacher at Cork, and he ap-
pointed two Tuesdays to be observed, as she had
requested, both in that city and at Limerick. There
may be ground for reasonable suspicion that Me-
thodism had caused the disease. The Cork preacher
was apprised, by a brother at Dublin, of the manner
in which it operated the cure : “I have to inform
176 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
you of the mercy of God to Miss T. She was brought
from Swift's Hospital on Sunday evening; and on
Tuesday night, about ten o'clock, she was in the
utmost distress. She thought, she saw Christ and
Satan fighting for her; and that she heard Christ
say, ‘I will have her l’ In a moment, hope sprung
up in her heart; the promises of God flowed in upon
her: she cried out, I am taken from hell to heaven
She now declares she could not tell whether she was
in the body or out of it. She is much tempted, but
in her right mind, enjoying a sense of the mercy of
God. She remembers all that is past, and knows it
was a punishment for her sins.” As nearly twenty
years elapsed before Wesley published these letters,
it may be inferred that the cure was permanent.
“Are there any drunkards here P’’ said a preacher
one day in his sermon, applying his discourse in that
manner which the Methodists have found so effectual.
A poor Irishman looked up, and replied, “Yes, I am
one !” And the impression which he then received,
enabled him to throw off his evil habits, and become,
from that day forward, a reclaimed man. The Me-
thodists at Wexford met in a long barn, and used to
fasten the door, because they were annoyed by a Ca-
tholic mob. Being thus excluded from the meeting,
the mob became curious to know what was done there:
and taking counsel together, they agreed that a fellow
should get in and secrete himself before the congrega-
tion assembled, so that he might see all that was going
on, and, at a proper time, let in his companions. The
adventurer could find no better means of concealment
than by getting into a sack which he found there, and
lying down in a situation near the entrance. The
people collected, secured the door as usual, and, as
usual, began their service by singing. The mob col-
lected also, and, growing impatient, called repeatedly
upon their friend Patrick to open the door; but Pat
METHODISM IN IRELAND. 177
happened to have a taste for music, and he liked the
singing so well, that he thought, as he afterwards
said, it would be a thousand pities to disturb it. And
when the hymn was done, and the itinerant began to
pray, in spite of all the vociferation of his comrades,
he thought that, as he had been so well pleased with
the singing, he would see how he liked the prayer;
but, when the prayer proceeded, “the power of God,”
says the relater, “did so confound him, that he roared
out with might and main; and not having power to
get out of the sack, lay bawling and screaming, to
the astonishment and dismay of the congregation,
who probably supposed that Satan himself was in the
barn. Somebody, at last, ventured to see what was
in the sack; and helping him out, brought him up,
confessing his sins, and crying for mercy.” This is
the most comical case of instantaneous conversion
that ever was recorded, and yet the man is said to
have been thoroughly converted.
A memorable instance of the good effects produced
by Methodism was shown, in a case of shipwreck upon
the Isle of Cale, off the coast of the county of Down.
There were several Methodist societies in that neigh-
bourhood, and some of the members went wrecking
with the rest of the people, and others bought, or
received presents of the plundered goods. As soon
as John Prickard, who was at that time travelling in
the Lisburn circuit, heard of this, he hastened to in-
quire into it, and found that all the societies, except
one, had, more or less, “been partakers of the accursed
thing.” Upon this he preached repentance and resti-
tution; and, with an almost broken heart, read out
sixty-three members on the following Sunday, in
Downpatrick; giving notice, that those who would
make restitution should be restored, at a proper time;
but that for those who would not, their names should
WOL, II. N
178 METHODISM IN IRELAND.
be recorded in the general steward's book, with an
account of their crime and obstinacy. This severity
produced much of its desired effect, and removed the
reproach which would otherwise have attached to the
Methodists. Some persons, who did not belong to
the Society, but had merely attended as hearers, were
so much affected by the exhortation and the example,
that they desired to make restitution with them. The
owners of the vessel empowered Prickard to allow
salvage; but, with a proper degree of austerity, he
refused to do this, because the people, in the first
instance, had been guilty of a crime. This affair
deservedly raised the character of the Methodists in
those parts; and it was observed, by the gentry in the
neighbourhood, that if the ministers of every other
persuasion had acted as John Prickard did, most of
the goods might have been saved.
“Although I had many an aching head and pained
breast,” says one of the itinerants, speaking of his
campaigns in Ireland, “yet it was delightful to see
hundreds attending to my blundering preaching, with
streaming eyes, and attention still as night.” “The
damp, dirty, smoky cabins” of Ulster,” says another,
* There is a letter of advice from Mr. Wesley to one of his Irish
preachers (written in 1769), which gives a curious picture of the people
for whom such adviee could be needful.—“Dear brother,” he says, “I
shall now tell you the things which have been more or less upon
my mind ever since I was in the North of Ireland. If you forget
them, you will be a sufferer, and so will the people ; if you observe
them, it will be good for both. Be steadily serious. There is no
eountry upon earth where this is more necessary than Ireland, as you
are generally encompassed with those who, with a little encouragement,
would laugh or trifle from morning till night. In every town, visit all
you can, from house to house; but on this, and every other occasion,
avoid all familiarity with women : this is deadly poison, both to them
and to you. You cannot be too wary in this respeet. Be active, be
diligent ; avoid all laziness, sloth, indolence ; fly from every degree,
every appearance of it, else you will never be more than half a Christian.
Be cleanly : in this let the Methodists take pattern by the Quakers.
METHODISM IN IRELAND. 179
“were a good trial; but what makes a double amends
for all these inconveniences, to any preacher who
loves the word of God, is, that our people here are in
general the most zealous, lively, affectionate Christians
we have in the kingdom.” Wesley himself, while he
shuddered at the ferocious character of Irish history,
loved the people; and said he had seen as real cour-
tesy in their cabins as could be found at St. James's
or the Louvre. He found them more liberal than
the English Methodists *, and he lived to see a larger
society at Dublin than any in England, except that in
the metropolis.
Avoid all nastiness, dirt, slovenliness, both in your person, clothes, house,
and all about you. Do not stink above ground !
* Let thy mind's sweetness have its operation
Upon thy person, clothes, and habitation.” – HERBERT.
Whatever clothes you have, let them be whole: no rents, no tatters,
no rags; these are a scandal to either man or woman, being another
fruit of vile laziness. Mend your clothes, or I shall never expect to see
you mend your lives. Let none ever see a ragged Methodist. Clean
yourselves of lice: take pains in this. Do not cut off your hair; but
clean it, and keep it clean, Cure yourself and your family of the itch :
a spoonful of brimstone will cure you. To let this run from year to
year, proves both sloth and uncleanness: away with it at once; let not
the North be any longer a proverb of reproach to all the nation. Use
no snuff, unless prescribed by a physician. I suppose no other nation
in Europe is in such vile bondage to this silly, nasty, dirty custom, as
the Irish are. Touch no dram: it is liquid fire; it is a sure, though
slow poison ; it saps the very springs of life. In Ireland, above all
countries in the world, I would sacredly abstain from this, because
the evil is so general; and to this, and snuff, and smoky cabins, I
impute the blindness which is so exceeding common throughout the
nation. I particularly desire, wherever you have preaching, that there
may be a little house. Let this be got without delay. Wherever it
is not, let none expect to see me.”
* “The meeting-house at Athlone was built and given, with the
ground on which it stood, by a single gentleman. In Cork, one person,
Mr. Thomas Jones, gave between three and four hundred pounds to—
wards the preaching-house. Towards that in Dublin, Mr. Lunell gave
four hundred pounds. I know no such benefactors among the Metho-
dists in England.”— Journal xvi. p. 23.
N 2
180
CHAPTER XXIV.
WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE.
IT is with the minds of men as with fermented
liquors; they are long in ripening, in proportion to
their strength. Both the Wesleys had much to work
off; and the process, therefore, was of long continu-
ance. In Charles it was perfected about middle life.
His enthusiasm had spent itself, and his opinions were
modified by time, as well as sobered by experience.
In the forty-first year of his age, he was married by
his brother, at Garth, in Brecknockshire, to Miss Sarah
Gwynne. “It was a solemn day,” says John, “such
as became the dignity of a Christian marriage.” For
a while he continued to itinerate, as he had been wont;
but, after a few years, he became a settled man, and
was contented to perform the duties and enjoy the
comforts of domestic life.
John also began to think of marriage, after his
brother's example, though he had published “Thoughts
on a Single Life,” wherein he advised all unmarried
persons, who were able to receive it, to follow the
counsel of our Lord and of St. Paul, and “remain
single for the kingdom of heaven's sake.” He did not,
indeed, suppose that such a precept could have been
intended for the many, and assented fully to the sen-
tence of the apostle, who pronounced the “forbidding
to marry to be a doctrine of devils.” Some notion,
however, that the marriage state was incompatible
with holiness, seems, in consequence perhaps of this
treatise, to have obtained ground among some of his
followers at one time; for it was asked, at the Confer-
ence of 1745, whether a sanctified believer could be
WESLEY IN MIDIDLE A.G.E. 181
capable of marriage. The answer was, “Why should
he not ?” And probably the question was asked for the
purpose of thus condemning a preposterous opinion.
When he himself resolved to marry, it appears that he
made both his determination and his choice without
the knowledge of Charles; and that Charles, when he
discovered the affair, found means, for reasons which
undoubtedly he must have thought sufficient, to break
off the match. But John was offended, and for a time
there was a breach of that union between them which
had never before been disturbed. It was not long
before he made a second choice, and, unfortunately
for himself, no one then interfered.
The treatise which he had written in recommenda-
tion of celibacy, placed him in an unfortunate situa-
tion; and, for the sake of appearances, he consulted
certain religious friends, that they might advise him
to follow his own inclination. His chief counsellor.
was Mr. Perronet, vicar of Shoreham. “Having re-
ceived a full answer from Mr. Perronet,” he says, “I
was clearly convinced that I ought to marry. For
many years I remained single, because I believed I
could be more useful in a single than in a married
state; and I praised God who enabled me so to do. I
now as fully believed, that, in my present circum-
stances, I might be more useful in a married state;
into which, upon this clear conviction, and by the
advice of my friends, I entered a few days after.” He
thought it expedient, too, to meet the single men of
the Society in London, and show them “on how many
accounts it was good for those who had received that
gift from God, to remain single for the kingdom of
heaven's sake, unless when a particular case might be
an exception to the general rule !” To those who pro-
perly respected Mr. Wesley, this must have been a
painful scene: to his blind admirers, no doubt, comic
as the situation was, it was an edifying one.
N 3
182 WESLEY IN MIDIOLE AGE.
The lady whom he married was a widow, by name
Vizelle, with four children “, and an independent for-
tune; but he took care that this should be settled upon
herself, and refused to have any command over it. It
was agreed also, before their marriage, that he should
Inot preach one sermon, nor travel one mile the less
on that account: “if I thought I should,” said he, “as
well as I love you, I would never see your face more.”
And in his Journal at this time he says, “I cannot
understand how a Methodist preacher can answer it
to God, to preach one sermon, or travel one day less,
in a married than in a single state. In this respect,
surely, it remaineth, that they who have wives, be as
though they had none.” For a little while she tra-
velled with him ; but that mode of life, and perhaps
the sort of company to which, in the course of their
journeys, she was introduced, soon became intolerable
—as it must necessarily have been to any woman who
did not enter wholly into his views, and partake of
his enthusiasm. But, of all women, she is said to have
been the most unsuited to him. Fain would she have
made him, like Marc Antony, give up all for love;
and being disappointed in that hope, she tormented
him in such a manner, by her outrageous jealousy,
and abominable temper, that she deserves to be classed
in a triad with Xantippe and the wife of Job, as one
of the three bad wives. Wesley, indeed, was neither
So submissive as Socrates, nor so patient as the man
* One of them quitted the profession of surgery, because, he said,
“it made him less sensible of human pain.” Wesley says, when he
relates this, “I do not know (unless it unfits us for the duties of life)
that we can have too great a sensibility of human pain. Methinks I
should be afraid of losing any degree of this sensibility. And I have
known exceeding few persons who have carried this tenderness of
spirit to excess.” He appears to have mentioned the conduct of his
son-in-law as to his honour ; but he relates elsewhere the saying of
another surgeon in a right manly spirit:-‘‘ Mr. Wesley, you know I
would not hurt a fly ; I would not give pain to any living thing ; but
if it were necessary, I would scrape all the flesh off a man's bones, and
never turn my head aside.”
WESLEY IN MIDIDLE A.G.E. 183
of Uz. He knew that he was by nature the stronger
vessel, of the more worthy gender, and lord and
master by law; and that the words, honour and obey,
were in the bond. “I now me,” said he, in one of his
letters to her, “and know yourself. Suspect me no
more, asperse me no more, provoke me no more : do
not any longer contend for mastery, for power, money,
or praise; be content to be a private insignificant per-
son, known and loved by God and me. Attempt no
more to abridge me of my liberty, which I claim by
the laws of God and man: leave me to be governed by
God and my own conscience; then shall I govern you
with gentle sway, even as Christ the Church.” He
reminded her that she had laid to his charge things
that he knew not, robbed him, betrayed his confidence,
revealed his secrets, given him a thousand treacherous
wounds, and made it her business so to do, under the
pretence of vindicating her own character; “whereas,”
said he, “of what importance is your character to
mankind 2 If you was buried just now, or if you had
never lived, what loss would it be to the cause of
God?” This was very true, but not very conciliating;
and there are few stomachs which could bear to have
humility administered in such doses.
“God,” said he, in this same letter, “has used
many means to curb your stubborn will, and break
the impetuosity of your temper. He has given you
a dutiful, but sickly, daughter. He has taken away
One of your sons; another has been a grievous cross,
as the third probably will be. He has suffered you
to be defrauded of much money; He has chastened
you with strong pain; and still He may say, How long
liftest thou up thyself against me? Are you more
humble, more gentle, more patient, more placable than
you was 7 I fear, quite the reverse: I fear your
natural tempers are rather increased than diminished.
Under all these conflicts, it might be an unspeakable
N 4
184 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE.
blessing that you have a husband who knows your
temper, and can bear with it; who is still willing to
forgive you all, to overlook what is past, as if it had
Inot been, and to receive you with open arms; only
not while you have a sword in your hand, with which
you are continually striking at me, though you cannot
hurt me. If, notwithstanding, you continue striking,
what can I, what can all reasonable men think, but
that either you are utterly out of your senses, or your
eye is not single; that you married me only for my
money; that, being disappointed, you was almost
always out of humour: that this laid you open to a
thousand suspicions, which, Once awakened, could
sleep no more. My dear Molly, let the time past
suffice. If you have not (to prevent my giving it to
bad women) robbed me of my substance too; if you
do not blacken me, on purpose that, when this causes
a breach between us, no one may believe it to be your
fault; stop, and consider what you do. As yet the
breach may be repaired: you have wronged me much,
but not beyond forgiveness. I love you still, and am
as clear from all other women as the day I was born.”
Had Mrs. Wesley been capable of understanding her
husband's character, she could not possibly have been
jealous; but the spirit of jealousy possessed her, and
drove her to the most unwarrantable actions. It is
said that she frequently travelled a hundred miles, for
the purpose of watching, from a window, who was in
the carriage with him when he entered a town. She
searched his pockets, opened his letters”, put his letters
* There is no allusion in Wesley's Journal to his domestic unhap-
piness, unless it be in Journal xi. p. 9. ; where, after noticing some
difficulties upon the road, he says, “Between nine and ten, came to
|Bristol. Here I met with a trial of another kind ; but this also shall
be for good.” His letters throw some light upon this part of his his-
tory, which would not be worth elucidating, if it did not at the same
time elucidate his character. Writing to Mrs. S. R. (Sarah Ryan, a
most enthusiastic woman), he says, “Last Friday, after many severe
words, my wife left me, vowing she would see me no more. As I had
WESILEY IN MIDIDLE AGE. 185
and papers into the hands of his enemies, in hopes
that they might be made use of to blast his character;
wrote to you the same morning, I began to reason with myself, till I
almost doubted whether I had done well in writing, or whether I ought
to write to you at all. After prayer, that doubt was taken away; yet
I was almost sorry that I had written that morning. In the evening,
while I was preaching at the chapel, she came into the chamber where
I had left my clothes, searched my pockets, and found the letter there
which I had finished, but had not sealed. While she read it, God
broke her heart ; and I afterwards found her in such a temper as I
have not seen her in for several years. She has continued in the same
ever since. So I think God has given a sufficient answer with regard
to our writing to each other.” But he says to the same person, eight
years afterwards, “ It has frequently been said, and with some appear-
ance of truth, that you' endeavour to monopolise 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. I do not at all speak on my own ac-
count; I set myself out of the question: but, if there be any thing of
the kind with regard to other people, I should be sorry both for them
and you.”
There is an unction about his correspondence with this person, which
must have appeared like strong confirmation to so jealous a woman as
Mrs. Wesley. He says to her, “the conversing with you, either by
speaking or writing, is an unspeakable blessing to me. I cannot think
of you without thinking of God. Others often lead me to him ; but
it is as it were going round about ; you bring me straight into his
presence. You have refreshed my bowels in the Lord. (Wesley is
very seldom guilty of this sort of canting and offensive language.) I
not only excuse, but love your simplicity ; and whatever freedom you
use, it will be welcome. I can hardly avoid trembling for you ! Upon
what a pinnacle do you stand 1 Perhaps few persons in England have
been in so dangerous a situation as you are now. I know not whether
any other was ever so regarded, both by my brother and me, at the
same time.” He questions her, not only about her thoughts, her ima-
ginations, and her reasonings, but even about her dreams : “Is there
no vanity or folly in your dreams ?—no temptation, that almost over-
comes you? And are you then as sensible of the presence of God, and
as full of prayer, as when you are waking P” She replies to this cu-
rious interrogation, “As to my dreams, I seldom remember them ;
but when I do, I find in general they are harmless.” This Sarah
Ryan was at one time housekeeper at the School at Kingswood. Her
account of herself, which is printed in the second volume of the Armi-
nian Magazine, is highly enthusiastic, and shows her to have been a
woman of heated fancy and strong natural talents. It appears, how-
ever, incidentally, in Wesley's letter, that though she professed to
have “a direct witness” of being saved from sin, she afterwards “fell
from that salvation.” And in another place be notices her “littleness
of understanding.”
186 WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE.
and sometimes laid violent hands upon him, and tore
his hair. She frequently left his house, and, upon his
earnest entreaties, returned again; till, after having
thus disquieted twenty years of his life, as far as it
was possible for any domestic vexations to disquiet a
man whose life was passed in locomotion, she seized
on part of his Journals, and many other papers, which
were never restored, and departed, leaving word that
she never intended to return. He simply states the
fact in his Journal, saying, that he knew not what the
cause had been ; and he briefly adds, Non eam reliqui,
mon dimisi, non revocabo; I did not forsake her, I did
not dismiss her, I will not recall her. Thus, sum-
marily, was a most injudicious marriage dissolved.
Mrs. Wesley lived ten years after the separation, and
is described in her epitaph as a woman of exemplary
piety, a tender parent, and a sincere friend: the tomb-
stone says nothing of her conjugal virtues.
But even if John Wesley's marriage had proved as
happy in all other respects as Charles's, it would not
have produced upon him the same sedative effect.
Entirely as these two brothers agreed in opinions and
principles, and cordially as they had acted together
during so many years, there was a radical difference
in their dispositions. Of Charles it has been said, by
those who knew him best, that if ever there was a
human being who disliked power, avoided pre-emi-
nence, and shrunk from praise, it was he: whereas no
conqueror or poet was ever more ambitious than
John Wesley. Charles could forgive an injury; but
never again trusted one whom he had found treache-
rous. John could take men a second time to his
confidence, after the greatest wrongs and the basest
usage: perhaps, because he had not so keen an insight
into the characters of men as his brother; perhaps,
because he regarded them as his instruments, and
thought that all other considerations must give way
WESLEY IN MIDIDLE A.G.E. 187
to the interests of the spiritual dominion which he had
acquired. It may be suspected that Charles, when he
saw the mischief and the villainy, as well as the follies,
to which Methodism gave occasion; and when he
perceived its tendency to a separation from the Church,
thought that he had gone too far, and looked with
sorrow to the consequences which he foresaw. John's
was an aspiring and a joyous spirit, free from all regret
for the past, or apprehension for the future: his anti-
cipations were always hopeful; and, if circumstances
arose contrary to his wishes, which he was unable to
control, he accommodated himself to them, made what
advantage of them he could, and insensibly learnt to
expect with complacency, as the inevitable end of his
career, a schism which at the commencement he
would have regarded with horror, as a dutiful and
conscientious minister of the Church of England.
In the first Conference it was asked, “Do you not
entail a schism on the Church? Is it not probable
that your hearers, after your death, will be scattered
into all sects and parties? or that they will form them-
selves into a distinct sect 7” The answer was, “We
are persuaded the body of our hearers will, even after
our death, remain in the Church, unless they be thrust
out. We believe, notwithstanding, either that they
will be thrust out, or that they will leaven the whole
Church. We do, and will do, all we can to prevent
those consequences which are supposed likely to happen
after our death; but we cannot, with a good conscience,
neglect the present opportunity of saving souls while
we live, for fear of consequences which may possibly
or probably happen after we are dead.” Five years
afterwards the assistants were charged to exhort all
those who had been brought up in the Church, con-
stantly to attend its service, to question them indivi-
dually concerning this, to set the example themselves,
and to alter every plan which interfered with it. “Is
188. WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE.
there not,” it was said, “a cause for this 2 Are we
not, unawares, by little and little, tending to a sepa-
ration from the Church? Oh, remove every tendency
thereto with all diligence | Let all our preachers go
to Church. Let all our people go constantly. Receive
the sacrament at every opportunity. Warn all against
niceness in hearing, — a great and prevailing evil:
warn them likewise against despising the prayers of
the Church; against calling our Society a church, or
the Church; against calling our preachers ministers,
our houses meeting-houses: call them plain preaching-
houses. Do not license them as such. The proper
form of a petition to the Judges is, “A. B. desires to
have his house in C. licensed for public worship.' 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.”
The leaven of ill-will towards the Church was
introduced among the Methodists by those dissenters
who joined them. Wesley saw whence it proceeded,
and was prepared to resist its effect by the feelings
which he had imbibed from his father”, as well as by
his sense of duty. But there were other causes which
increased and strengthened the tendency that had
thus been given. It is likely that, when the Nonju-
rors disappeared as a separate party, many of them
would unite with the Methodists, being a middle
course between the Church and the dissenters, which
required no sacrifice either of principle or of pride.
Having joined them, their leaning would naturally be
toward a separation from the Establishment. But the
main cause is to be found in the temper of the lay
* “ A thousand times,” says he, “ have I found my father's words
true: ‘You may have peace with the Dissenters, if you do not so
humour them as to dispute with them. But if you do, they will out-
face and out-lung you ; and, at the end, you will be where you were
at the beginning.’” - -
WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE. 189
preachers, who, by an easy and obvious process, were
led to conclude, that they were as much authorised to
exercise one part of the ministerial functions as an-
other. They had been taught to consider, and were
accustomed to represent the clergy in the most unfa-
vourable light. Wesley sometimes reprehended this
in strong terms: but, upon this point, he was not
consistent; and whenever he had to justify the appoint-
ment of lay preachers, he was apt, in self-defence, to
commit the fault which, at other times, he condemned.
“I am far,” says he, in one of his sermons, “from
desiring to aggravate the defects of my brethren, or
to paint them in the strongest colours. Far be it
from me to treat others as I have been treated myself;
to return evil for evil, or railing for railing. But, to
speak the naked truth, not with anger or contempt,
as too many have done, I acknowledge that many, if
not most of those that were appointed to minister in
holy things, with whom it has been my lot to con-
verse, in almost every part of England or Ireland, for
forty or fifty years last past, have not been eminent
either for knowledge or piety. It has been loudly
affirmed, that most of those persons now in connection
with me, who believe it their duty to call sinners to
repentance, having been taken immediately from low
trades—tailors, shoemakers, and the like, are a set of
poor, stupid, illiterate men, that scarcely know their
right hand from their left; yet I cannot but say, that
I would sooner cut off my right hand than suffer one
of them to speak a word in any of our chapels, if I
had not reasonable proof that he had more knowledge
in the Holy Scriptures, more knowledge of himself,
more knowledge of God, and of the things of God,
than nine in ten of the clergymen I have conversed
with, either at the universities or elsewhere.”
The situation in which Wesley stood led him to
make this comparison, and not to make it fairly. It
190 WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE.
induced him also to listen to those who argued in
favour of a separation from the Church, and to sum
up their reasonings, with a bias in their favour.
“They who plead for it,” said he, “have weighed the
point long and deeply, and considered it with earnest
and continued prayer. They admit, if it be lawful to
abide therein, then it is not lawful to separate : but
they aver it is not lawful to abide therein; for, though
they allow the Liturgy to be, in general, one of the
most excellent of all human compositions, they yet
think it both absurd and sinful to declare such an
assent and consent as is required, to any merely human
composition. Though they do not object to the use
of forms, they dare not confine themselves to them;.
and, in this form, there are several things which they
apprehend to be contrary to Scripture. As to the .
laws of the Church, if they include the canons and
decretals, (both which are received as such in our
courts,) they think the latter are the very dregs of
popery, and that many of the former (the canons of
1603) are as grossly wicked as absurd; that the spirit
which they breathe is, throughout, truly popish and
anti-christian ; that nothing can be more diabolical
than the ipso facto excommunication so often de-
nounced therein; and that the whole method of
executing these canons, the process used in our
spiritual courts, is too bad to be tolerated, not in a
Christian, but in a Mahommedan or Pagan nation.
With regard to the ministers, they doubt whether
there are not many of them whom God hath not sent,
inasmuch as they neither live the Gospel, nor teach it;
neither, indeed, can they, since they do not know it.
They doubt the more, because these ministers them-
selves disclaim that inward call to the ministry, which
is at least as necessary as the outward; and they are
not clear whether it be lawful to attend the ministra-
tions of those whom God has not sent to minister.
WESLEY IN MIDIDIE A.G.E. 191
They think also, that the doctrines actually taught,
by a great majority of the church ministers, are not
only wrong, but fundamentally so, and subversive of
the whole Gospel: therefore, they doubt whether it
be lawful to bid them God speed, or to have any
fellowship with them. I will freely acknowledge,”
he adds, “that I cannot answer these arguments to
my own satisfaction. As yet,” he pursued, “we
have not taken one step farther than we were convinced
was our bounden duty. It is from a full conviction
of this that we have preached abroad, prayed eastem-
pore, formed societies, and permitted preachers who
were not episcopally ordained. And were we pushed on
this side, were there no alternative allowed, we should
judge it our bounden duty, rather wholly to sepa-
rate from the Church, than to give up any one of these
points; therefore, if we cannot stop a separation
without stopping lay preachers, the case is clear, we
cannot stop it at all. But, if we permit them, should
we not do more ?—should we not appoint them,
rather ? since the bare permission puts the matter
quite out of our hands, and deprives us of all our
influence. In great measure, it does: therefore, to
appoint them is far more expedient, if it be lawful:
but is it lawful for presbyters, circumstanced as we
are, to appoint other ministers ? This is the very
point wherein we desire advice, being afraid of leaning
to our own understanding.”
An inclination to episcopise was evidently shown
in this language; but Wesley did not yet venture
upon the act, in deference, perhaps, to his brother's
determined and principled opposition. Many of his
preachers, however, were discontented with the rank
which they held in public opinion, thinking that they
were esteemed inferior to the dissenting ministers,
because they did not assume so much : they there-
fore urged him to take upon himself the episcopal
192 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE.
office, and ordain them, that they might administer
the ordinances; and, as he could not be persuaded to
this, they charged him with inconsistency, for tole-
rating lay preaching, and not lay administering. This
charge he repelled: “My principle,” said he, “is
this: I submit to every ordinance of man, wherever I
do not conceive there is an absolute necessity for
acting contrary to it. Consistently with this, I do
tolerate lay preaching, because I conceive there is an
absolute necessity for it, inasmuch as were it not,
thousands of souls would perish everlastingly. Yet
I do not tolerate lay administering ; because I do not
conceive there is any such necessity for it, seeing it
does not appear that one soul will perish for want of
it.” This was, of course, called persecution, by those
whom his determination disappointed; and they
accused him of injustice in denying them the liberty
of acting according to their own conscience. They
thought it quite right that they should administer the
Lord's Supper, and believed it would do much good :
he thought it quite wrong, and believed it would do
much hurt. “I have no right over your consciences,”
he said, “nor you over mine: therefore, both you
and I must follow our own conscience. You believe
it is a duty to administer: do so, and therein follow
your own conscience. I verily believe it is a sin,
which, consequently, I dare not tolerate; and herein I
follow mine.” And he argued, that it was no perse-
cution to separate from his society those who prac-
tised what he believed was contrary to the will and
destructive of the word of God.
It does not appear that any of his preachers with-
drew from him on this account: the question was not
one upon which, at that time, a discontented man
could hope to divide the society; and, if they did not
assent to Mr. Wesley's arguments, they acquiesced in
his will. Secessions, however, and expulsions, from
WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 193
other causes, not unfrequently took place: and once
he found it necessary to institute an examination of
his preachers, because of certain scandals which had
arisen. The person with whom the offence began was
one James Wheatley. At first he made himself
remarkable, by introducing a luscious manner of
preaching, which, as it was new among the Metho-
dists, and at once stimulant and flattering, soon
became popular, and obtained imitators. They who
adopted it assumed to themselves the appellation of
Gospel preachers, and called their brethren, in con-
tempt, legalists, legal wretches, and doctors in
divinity. Wesley presently perceived the mischief
that was done by these men, whose secret was, to
speak much of the promises, and little of the com-
mands: “They corrupt their hearers,” said he: “they
feed them with sweetmeats, till the genuine wine
of the kingdom seems quite insipid to them. They
give them cordial upon cordial, which makes them all
life and spirits for the present: but, meantime, their
appetite is destroyed, so that they can neither retain
nor digest the pure milk of the word. As soon
as that flow of spirits goes off, they are without life,
without power, without any strength or vigour of
soul; and it is extremely difficult to recover them,
because they still cry out, Cordials | Cordials of which
they have had too much already, and have no taste
for the food which is convenient for them. Nay, they
have an utter aversion to it, and this confirmed by
principle, having been taught to call it husks, if not
poison. How much more to those bitters, which are
previously needful to restore their decayed appetite l’’
Wheatley was a quack in physic, as well as in
divinity, and he was soon detected in fouler practices.
Complaint being at length made of his infamous li-
centiousness, the two brothers inquired into it, and
obtained complete proof of his guilt. Upon this they
WOL. II. - ()
194 WEST,EY IN MIDIDLE AGE.
delivered into his hands a written sentence of sus-
pension, in these terms: “Because you have wrought
folly in Israel, grieved the Holy Spirit of God,
betrayed your own soul into temptation and sin,
and the souls of many others, whom you ought, even
at the peril of your own life, to have guarded against
all sin; because you have given occasion to the
enemies of God, wherever they shall know these
things, to blaspheme the ways and truth of God; we
can in no wise receive you as a fellow-labourer, till we
see clear proofs of your real and deep repentance. The
least and lowest proof of such repentance which we
can receive is this, – that, till our next Conference,
you abstain both from preaching and from practising
physic. If you do not, we are clear: we cannot
answer for the consequences.” They were not aware
at the time of the extent of this hypocrite's crimi-
nality; but enough was soon discovered to make it
necessary for them to disclaim him by public adver-
tisements. The matter became so notorious at
Norwich, that the affidavits of the women whom he
had endeavoured to corrupt, were printed and hawked
about the streets. The people were ready to tear
him to pieces, as he deserved; and the cry against
the Methodists was such, in consequence, that Charles
Wesley said, Satan or his apostles could not have
done more to shut the door against the Gospel in that
place for ever. -
This was a case of individual villainy, and produced
no other injury to Methodism than an immediate
scandal, which was soon blown over. But it is the
nature of mental, as well as of corporeal diseases, to
propagate themselves, and schism is one of the most
prolific of all errors. One separation had already
taken place between the Methodists and the Mora-
vians; the Calvinistic question had made a second.
A minor schism was now made, by a certain James
Relly, who, having commenced his career under the
WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 195
patronage of Whitefield, ended in forming a heresy of
his own, which had the merit, at least, of being a
humaner scheme than that of his master, however un-
tenable in other respects. Shocked at the intolerable
notion of reprobation, and yet desirous of holding the
tenet of election, he fancied that sin was to be consi-
dered as a disease, for which the death of our Redeemer
was the remedy; and that, as evil had been introduced
into human nature by the first Adam, who was of the
earth, earthly, so must it be expelled by the second,
who is from heaven, and therefore heavenly. Pursu-
ing this motion, he taught that Christ, as a Mediator,
was united to mankind, and, by his obedience and
sufferings, had as fully restored the whole human race
to the Divine favour, as if all had obeyed or suffered
in their own persons. So he preached a finished sal-
vation, which included the final restitution of all fallen
intelligences. Sin being only a disease *, could not
deserve punishment: it was in itself, and in its conse-
quences, a sufficient evil; for while it existed, dark-
ness and unbelief accompanied it, and occasioned a
privation of that happiness which the Almighty de-
signed for all his creatures; but, in the end, all would
be delivered, and the elect were only chosen to be the
first fruits—the pledges and earnest of the general
harvest. Relly had for his co-adjutor one William
Cudworth, of whom Wesley observed, after an inter-
view with him, “that his opinions were all his own,
quite new, and his phrases as new as his opinions, yea,
and phrases too, he affirmed to be necessary to Salva-
tion; maintaining, that all who did not receive them
worshipped another God ; and that he was as incapa-
ble as a brute beast of being convinced, even in the
* James Relly should have read an old treatise upon the Sinfulness
of Sim, which, notwithstanding its odd title, is the work of a sound and
powerful intellect. If I remember rightly, it is by Bishop Reynolds. .
O 2
196 WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE.,
smallest point.” On another occasion he remarks,
that Cudworth, Relly, and their associates abhorred
him as much as they did the pope, and ten times more
than they did the Devil. The Devil, indeed, was no
object of abhorrence with them: like Uncle Toby,
they were sorry for him; and, like Origen, they ex-
pected his reformation. They formed a sect, which
continues to exist in America, as well as in England,
by the name of the Rellyan Universalists; and it is
said that Washington's chaplain was a preacher of
this denomination. -
The tendency of these opinions was to an easy and
quiet latitudinarianism. Antinomianism, with which
they were connected, was far more mischievous, when
combined with enthusiasm; and this was the evil to
which Methodism always perilously inclined. There
is in the Antinomian scheme, and indeed in all pre-
destinarian schemes, an audacity which is congenial
to certain minds. They feel a pride in daring to pro-
fess doctrines which are so revolting to the common
sense and feelings of mankind. Minds of a similar
temper, but in a far worse state, maintain the notion
of the necessity of human actions *, but reject a first
cause. It is from a like effrontery of spirit that this
last and worst corruption proceeds; and as the causes
are alike, so also the practical consequences of anti-
nomianism and atheism would be the same, if men
were always as bad as their opinions; for the professors
of both have emancipated themselves from any other
restraint than what may be imposed by the fear of
human laws.
Wesley was mistaken in supposing the doctrine,
that there is no sin in believers, was never heard of
* Archbishop Sancroft says well of the fatalist: “He uses necessity
as the old philosophers did an occult quality, though to a different
purpose : that was their refuge for ignorance; this is his sanctuary for
sin.”
WESLEY IN MIDI)LE AGE. 197
till the time of Count Zinzendorf. It is as old in
England as the Reformation *, and might undoubt-
edly be traced in many an early heresy. The Mora-
vians had the rare merit of sometimes acknowledging
their errors, and correcting them : on this point, they
modified their language till it became reasonable;
but the Methodists had caught the error, and did
not so easily rid themselves of it. “God thrust
us out,” says Wesley, speaking of himself and his
brother, “utterly against our will, to raise a holy
people. When Satan could no otherwise prevent this,
he threw Calvinism in our way, and then Antino-
mianism, which struck at the root both of inward and
outward holiness.”f He acknowledged that they had;
unawares, leaned too much toward both ; and that the
truth of the Gospel lies within a hair's breadth of
them: “So,” said he, “that it is altogether foolish
and sinful, because we do not quite agree either with
One or the other, to run from them as far as ever we
can.” The question, “Wherein may we come to the
very edge of Calvinism 7” was proposed in the second
Conference; and the answer was, “In ascribing all
good to the free grace of God; in denying all natural
* Burnet speaks of certain “corrupt Gospellers, who thought, if
they magnified Christ much, and depended on his merits and interces-
sion, they could not perish, which way soever they led their lives. And
special care was taken in the homilies to rectify this error.”
t This pernicious doctrine was well explained in the first Conference:
“ Q. What is Antinomianism?
A. The doctrine which makes void the law through faith.
Q. What are the main pillars thereof P -
A. 1. That Christ abolished the moral law.
2. That therefore Christians are not obliged to observe it.
3. That one branch of Christian liberty, is liberty from obeying
the commandments of God.
. That it is bondage to do a thing, because it is commanded ;
or forbear it, because it is forbidden.
That a believer is not obliged to use the ordinances of God, or
to do good works.
That a preacher ought not to exhort to good works: not un-
believers, because it is hurtful ; not believers, because it is.
useless.”
.
6.
O 3
198 WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE.
free-will, and all power antecedent to grace; and in
excluding all merit from man, even for what he has
or does by the grace of God.” This was endeavour-
ing to split the hair. “Wherein may we come to
the edge of Antinomianism 7” was asked likewise;
and the answer was less objectionable: “In exalting
the merits and love of Christ; in rejoicing evermore.”
In endeavouring to approach the edge of this peril-
ous notion, Wesley went sometimes too near. But his
general opinion could not be mistaken; and when any
of his followers fell into the error, he contended
against it zealously. It was a greater hindrance, he
said, to the word of God, than any, or all others put
together: and he sometimes complains, that most of
the seed which had been sown during so many years,
had been rooted up and destroyed by “the wild
boars, the fierce, unclean, brutish, blasphemous Anti-
nomians.”f From this reproach, indeed, which attaches
* If we substitute “actual,” for “natural,” in the preceding sen-
tence, the error is confined to the words, “and in excluding all merit
from man, even for what he has or does by the grace of God,” in-
stead of which, we might safely put the following: “ and by including
all merit of man, for what he has or does by the grace of God, in the
merits of the Mediator, perfect God, and perfect man ; by which, and
by the imputation of which, all human merit is, and is possible. But
I dare not condemn those of the early Reformers who looked with
suspicion on the application of the word to individuals, even so ex-
plained, and thus cautiously guarded. For if that popular and com-
mon-sense view of men as individuals other than the Son of Man be
meant, which view alone the generality of Christians can understand,
—or if any view but that of the transcendent union, in which we have
our being, personality, and freedom in the being, person, and will of
God, -then it is clear that the term merit is used in two diverse
senses, as applied to Christ, and applied to man. — S. T. C. -
t The annexed extract from Wesley's Journal will show that this
language is not too strong : “I came to Wensbury. The Antinomian
teachers had laboured hard to destroy this poor people. I talked an
hour with the chief of them, Stephen Timmins. I was in doubt
whether pride had not made him mad. An uncommon wildness and
fierceness in his air, his words, and the whole manner of his behaviour,
almost induced me to think God had, for a season, given him up
into the hands of Satan. In the evening I preached at Birmingham.
WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 199
to many of his Calvinistic opponents, he was entirely
clear, and the great body of his society has continued
so. But his disposition to believe in miraculous mani-
festations of divine favours, led him sometimes to
encourage an enthusiasm which impeached his own
judgement, and brought a scandal upon Methodism.
Among the converts to Methodism at this time
were Mr. Berridge, vicar of Everton, in Bedfordshire,
and Mr. Hickes, vicar of Wrestlingworth, in the same
neighbourhood. These persons, by their preaching,
produced the same contagious convulsions in their
hearers, as had formerly prevailed at Bristol; and
though time had sobered Mr. Wesley's feelings, and
matured his judgement, he was so far deceived, that
he recorded the things which occurred, not as psy-
chological, but as religious cases. They were of the
most frightful and extraordinary kind. An eye
witness described the church at Everton as crowded
with persons from all the country round; “the
windows,” he says, “being filled, within and without,
and even the outside of the pulpit, to the very top, so
that Mr. Berridge seemed almost stified with their
breath; yet,” the relator continues, “feeble and sickly
Here another of their pillars, J — W , came to me, and looking
over his shoulder, said, ‘Don’t think I want to be in your society;
but if you are free to speak to me, you may.' I will set down the con-
versation, dreadful as it was, in the very manner wherein it passed,
that every serious person may see the true picture of Antinomianism
full grown ; and may know what these men mean by their favourite
phrase of being perfect in Christ, not in themselves. “Do you believe
you have nothing to do with the law of God?’ ‘ I have not. I am
not under the law. I live by faith.”—“Have you, as living by faith,
a right to every thing in the world 2’ ‘I have. All is mine, since
Christ is mine.”—“ May you then take any thing you will, any where P
suppose, out of a shop, without the consent or knowledge of the
owner P” ‘ I may, if I want it ; for it is mine; only I will not give
offence.”—“Have you also a right to all the women in the world P’
* Yes, if they consent.' -– ‘And is that not a sin P’ ‘Yes, to him
that thinks it a sin; but not to those whose hearts are free.' . The
same thing that wretch Roger Ball affirmed in Dublin. Surely these
are the first-born children of Satan l’’ -
o 4
200 WESLEY IN MIDDIE AGE.
as he is, he was continually strengthened, and his
voice, for the most part, distinguishable in the midst
of all the outcries. When the power of religion begun
to be spoke of, the presence of God really filled the
place; and while poor sinners felt the sentence of
death in their souls, what sounds of distress did I
hear ! The greatest number of them who cried, or
fell, were men; but some women, and several chil-
dren, felt the power of the same Almighty Spirit, and
seemed just sinking into hell. This occasioned a
mixture of various sounds; some shrieking, some
roaring aloud. The most general was a loud
breathing, like that of people half-strangled, and
gasping for life ; and, indeed, almost all the cries
were like those of human creatures dying in bitter
anguish. Great numbers wept without any noise;
others fell down as dead ; some sinking in silence,
some with extreme noise and violent agitation. I
stood on the pew seat, as did a young man in the
opposite pew, an able-bodied, fresh, healthy country-
man; but, in a moment, while he seemed to think of
nothing less, down he dropt, with a violence incon-
ceivable. The adjoining pews seemed shook with
his fall: I heard afterwards the stamping of his feet,
ready to break the boards, as he lay in strong con-
vulsions at the bottom of the pew. When he fell,
Mr. B–ll and I felt our souls thrilled with a
momentary dread ; as, when one man is killed by
a cannon-ball, another often feels the wind of it.
Among the children who felt the arrows of the
Almighty, I saw a sturdy boy, about eight years old,
who roared above his fellows, and seemed, in his
agony, to struggle with the strength of a grown man.
His face was red as scarlet; and almost all on whom
God laid his hand, turned either very red, or almost
black.”
The congregation adjourned to Mr. Berridge's
WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE. 201
house, whither those who were still in the fit were
carried: the maddened people were eager for more
stimulants, and the insane vicar was as willing to ad-
minister more, as they were to receive it. “I stayed
in the next room,” says the relator, “and saw a girl,
whom I had observed peculiarly distressed in the
church, lying on the floor as one dead, but without
any ghastliness in her face. In a few minutes we
were informed of a woman filled with peace and joy,
who was crying out just before. She had come
thirteen miles, and is the same person who dreamed
Mr. Berridge would come to his village on that very
day whereon he did come, though without either
knowing the place or the way to it. She was con-
vinced at that time. Just as we heard of her de-
liverance, the girl on the floor began to stir. She
was then set in a chair, and, after sighing a while,
suddenly rose up, rejoicing in God. Her face was
covered with the most beautiful smile I ever saw.
She frequently fell on her knees, but was generally
running to and fro, speaking these and the like words:
“Oh, what can Jesus do for lost sinners | He has
forgiven all my sins! I am in Heaven! I am in
Heaven Oh, how he loves me, and how I love
him 1" Meantime I saw a thin pale girl weep-
ing with sorrow for herself, and joy for her
companion. Quickly the smiles of Heaven came
likewise on her, and her praises joined with those of
the other. I also then laughed with extreme joy;
so did Mr. B ll, who said it was more than he
could well bear; so did all who knew the Lord, and
some of those who were waiting for salvation, till the
cries of them who were struck with the arrows of
conviction were almost lost in the sounds of joy.
Mr. Berridge about this time retired : we continued
praising God with all our might, and his work went
on. I had for some time observed a young woman
202 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE.
all in tears, but now her countenance changed: the
unspeakable joy appeared in her face, which, quick as
lightning, was filled with smiles, and became a
crimson colour. About the same time John Keeling,
of Potton, fell into an agony; but he grew calm in
about a quarter of an hour, though without a clear
sense of pardon. Immediately after, a stranger, well
dressed, who stood facing me, fell backward to the
wall, then forward on his knees, wringing his hands,
and roaring like a bull. His face at first turned
quite red, then almost black. He rose and ran
against the wall, till Mr. Keeling and another held
him. He screamed out, ‘Oh, what shall I do' what
shall I do | Oh, for one drop of the blood of Christ l’
As he spoke, God set his soul at liberty: he knew his
sins were blotted out; and the rapture he was in
seemed too great for human nature to bear. He had
come forty miles to hear Mr. Berridge.
“I observed, about the time that Mr. Coe (that was
his name) began to rejoice, a girl eleven or twelve
years old, exceedingly poorly dressed, who appeared
to be as deeply wounded, and as desirous of salvation,
as any. But I lost sight of her, till I heard the joyful
sound of another born in Sion, and found, upon
inquiry, it was her —the poor, disconsolate, gipsy-
looking child. And now did I see such a sight as I
do not expect again on this side eternity. The faces
of the three justified children, and, I think, of all the
believers present, did really shine; and such a beauty,
such a look of extreme happiness, and, at the same
time, of divine love and simplicity, did I never see in
human faces till now. The newly justified eagerly
embraced one another, weeping on each other's necks
for joy, and besought both men and women to help
them in praising God.” The same fits were produced
by Mr. Hickes's preaching at Wrestlingworth,
whither this relator proceeded: and there also the
WESLEY IN MIDIDLE A.G.E. 203
poor creatures who were under the paroxysm were
carried into the parsonage, where some lay as if they
were dead, and others lay struggling. In both
churches several pews and benches were broken by
the violent struggling of the sufferers; “yet,” says the
narrator, “it is common for people to remain un-
affected there, and afterward drop down in their way
home. Some have been found lying as dead in the
road; others in Mr. Berridge's garden, not being
able to walk from the church to his house, though it
is not two hundred yards.” The person who thus
minutely described the progress of this powerful con-
tagion, observes, that few old people experienced any
thing of what he called the work of God, and scarce
any of the rich; and, with that uncharitable spirit,
which is one of the surest and worst effects of such
superstition, he remarks, that three farmers, in three
several villages, who set themselves to oppose it, all
died within a month.
Such success made Berridge glorious in his own
eyes, as well as in those of all the fanatics round
about. He travelled about the country, making
Everton still the centre of his excursions; and he
confesses that, on one occasion, when he mounted a
table upon a common near Cambridge, and saw nearly
ten thousand people assembled, and many gownsmen
among them, he paused after he had given out his
text, thinking of “something pretty to set off with ;
but,” says he, “the Lord so confounded me (as in-
deed it was meet, for I was seeking not his glory, but
my Own), that I was in a perfect labyrinth, and found
that, if I did not begin immediately, I must go down
without speaking; so I broke out with the first word
that occurred, not knowing whether I should be able
to add any more. Then the Lord opened my mouth,
enabling me to speak near an hour, without any kind
of perplexity, and so loud, that every one might hear.”
204 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE.
For a season this man produced a more violent influ-
enza of fanaticism than had ever followed upon either
Whitefield's or Wesley's preaching. The people flocked
to hear him in such numbers, that his church could
not contain them, and they adjourned into a field.
“Some of them,” says an eye-witness, “who were here
pricked to the heart, were affected in an astonishing
manner. The first man I saw wounded would have
dropped, but others, catching him in their arms, did
indeed prop him up ; but were so far from keeping
him still, that he caused all of them to totter and
tremble. His own shaking exceeded that of a cloth
in the wind. It seemed as if the Lord came upon
him like a giant, taking him by the neck, and shaking
all his bones in pieces. One woman tore up the
ground with her hands, filling them with dust, and
with the hard-trodden grass, on which I saw her lie
with her hands clinched, as one dead, when the mul-
titude dispersed: another roared and screamed in a
more dreadful agony than ever I heard before. I
omit the rejoicing of believers, because of their number,
and the frequency thereof; though the manner was
strange, some of them being quite overpowered with
divine love, and only showing enough of natural life
to let us know they were overwhelmed with joy and
life eternal. Some continued long as if they were
dead, but with a calm Sweetness in their looks. I saw
one who lay two or three hours in the open air, and
being then carried into the house, continued insensible
another hour, as if actually dead. The first sign of
life she showed was a rapture of praise, intermixed
with a small joyous laughter.” It may excite asto-
nishment in other countries, and reasonable regret in
this, that there should be no authority capable of
restraining extravagances and indecencies like these.
Berridge had been curate of Stapleford, near Cam-
bridge, several years; and now, after what he called
WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 205
his conversion, his heart was set upon preaching a
“Gospel-sermon” there, which, he said, he had never
done before. Some fifteen hundred persons assembled
in a field to hear him. The contagion soon began to
show itself among those who were predisposed for it:
others, of a different temper, mocked and mimicked
these poor creatures in their convulsions; and some
persons, who were in a better state of mind than either,
indignant at the extravagance and indecency of the
scene, called aloud to have those wretches horse-
whipped out of the field. “Well (says the fanatical
writer) may Satan be enraged at the cries of the
people, and the prayers they make in the bitterness
of their souls, seeing we know these are the chief
times at which Satan is cast out.”—“I heard a
dreadful noise, on the farther side of the congrega-
tion (says this writer), and turning thither, saw one
Thomas Skinner coming forward, the most horrible
human figure I ever saw. His large wig and hair were
coal-black; his face distorted beyond all description.
He roared incessantly, throwing and clapping his
hands together with his whole force. Several were
terrified, and hastened out of his way. I was glad to
hear him, after a while, pray aloud. Not a few of
the triflers grew serious, while his kindred and ac-
quaintance were very unwilling to believe even their
own eyes and ears. They would fain have got him
away; but he fell to the earth, crying, “My burden
my burden I cannot bear it !” Some of his brother
scoffers were calling for horsewhips, till they saw him
extended on his back at full length : they then said
he was dead; and indeed the Only sign of life was the
working of his breast, and the distortions of his face,
while the veins of his neck were swelled as if ready
to burst. He was, just before, the chief captain of
Satan's forces: none was by nature more fitted for
mockery; none could swear more heroically to whip
206 WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE.
out of the close all who were affected by the preach-
ing.” Berridge bade the people take warning by
him, while he lay roaring and tormented on the
ground. “His agonies lasted some hours; then his
body and soul were eased.” -
It is to be regretted that, of the many persons who
have gone through this disease, no one should have
recorded his case who was capable of describing his
sensations accurately, if not of analysing them.
Berridge and Hickes are said to have “awakened ”
about four thousand souls in the course of twelve
months. Imposture in all degrees, from the first
natural exaggeration to downright fraud, kept pace
with enthusiasm. A child, seven years old, saw
visions, and “astonished the neighbours with her in-
nocent and aweful manner of relating them.” A young
man, whose mother affirmed that he had had fits, once
a-day, at least, for the last two years, began to pray
in those fits; protesting afterwards, that he knew not
a word of what he had spoken, but was as ignorant of
the matter as if he had been dead all the while. This
impostor, when he was about to exhibit, stiffened
himself like a statue; “his very neck seemed made
of iron.” After he had finished, his body grew flex-
ible by degrees, but seemed to be convulsed from
head to foot; and when he thought proper to recover,
he said, “he was quite resigned to the will of God,
who gave him such strength in the inner man, that
he did not find it grievous, neither could ask to be
delivered from it.” “I discoursed,” says the credu-
lous relator of these things, “with Anne Thorn, who
told me of much heaviness following the visions with
which she had been favoured; but said she was, at
intervals, visited still with so much overpowering love
and joy, especially at the Lord's Supper, that she often
lay in a trance for many hours. She is twenty-one
WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 207.
years old. We were soon after called into the garden,
where Patty Jenkins, one of the same age, was so
overwhelmed with the love of God, that she sunk
down, and appeared as one in a pleasant sleep, only
with her eyes open. Yet she had often just strength
to utter, with a low voice, ejaculations of joy and
praise; but no words coming up to what she felt, she
frequently laughed while she saw his glory. This is
quite unintelligible to many, for a stranger intermed-
dleth not with our joy. So it was to Mr. M., who
doubted whether God or the Devil had filled her with
love and praise. Oh, the depth of human wisdom
Mr. R., in the mean time, was filled with a solemn
awe. I no sooner sate down by her, than the Spirit of
God poured the same blessedness into my soul.”
Whether this were folly or fraud, the consequences
that were likely to result did not escape the appre-
hension of persons who, though themselves affected
strongly by the disease, still retained some command
of reason. They began to doubt whether such trances
were not the work of Satan: with the majority, how-
ever, they passed for effects of grace. Wesley, who
believed and recorded them as such, inquired of the
patients, when he came to Everton, concerning their
state of feeling in these trances. The persons, who
appear to have been all young women and girls, agreed,
“that when they went away, as they termed it, it was
always at the time they were fullest of the love of
God: that it came upon them in a moment, without
any previous notice, and took away all their senses
and strength: that there were some exceptions, but,
generally, from that moment, they were in another
world, knowing nothing of what was done or said by
all that were round about them.”* He had now an
* I regret that Southey is acquainted only with the magnetic cases
of Mesmer and his immediate followers, and not with the incomparably
more interesting ones of Gmelin, Weinholt, Eschemmeyer, Wohlfast,
208 WESLEY IN MIDIDLE A.G.E.
opportunity of observing a case. Some persons were
singing hymns in Berridge's house, about five in the
afternoon, and presently Wesley was summoned by
Berridge himself, with information that one of them, a
girl of fifteen, was fallen into a trance. “I went down
immediately,” says Mr. Wesley, “and found her sitting
on a stool, and leaning against the wall, with her eyes
open, and fixed upward. I made a motion, as if going
to strike; but they continued immoveable. Her face
showed an unspeakable mixture of reverence and love,
while silent tears stole down her cheek. Her lips
were a little open, and sometimes moved, but not
enough to cause any sound. I do not know whether
I ever saw a human face look so beautiful. Sometimes
it was covered with a smile, as from joy mixing with
love and reverence; but the tears fell still, though not
so fast. Her pulse was quite regular. In about half
an hour, I observed her countenance change into the
form of fear, pity, and distress. Then she burst into
a flood of tears, and cried out, ‘Dear Lord they will
be dammed ! they will all be damned l’ But, in about
five minutes, her Smiles returned, and only love and
joy appeared in her face. About half an hour after
six, I observed distress take place again, and soon
after she wept bitterly, and cried ‘Dear Lord, they
will go to hell! the world will go to hell!” Soon after
&c. — men whose acknowledged merits as naturalists and physicians,
with their rank and unimpeached integrity, raise their testimony above
suspicion, in point of veracity at least, and of any ordinary delusion.
The case Wesley saw, is in all its features identical with that of the
Khamerin, and with a dozen others in the seventh or ecstatic grade.
The facts it would be now quite absurd to question ; , but their direct
relation to the magnetic treatment, as effect to cause, remains as doubt-
ful as at the beginning. And these cases of the Methodists tend strongly
to support the negative. And yet it is singular, that of the very many
well-educated men who have produced effects of this kind, or under
whose treatment such phenomena have taken place, not one should have
withstood the conviction of their having exerted a direct causative
agency: though several have earnestly recommended the suppression
of the practice altogether, as rarely beneficial, and often injurious, nay,
calamitous. – S.T.C.
WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE. 209
she said, “Cry aloud! spare not l’ and in a few mo-
ments her look was composed again, and spoke a
mixture of reverence, joy, and love. Then she said
aloud, ‘Give God the glory !’ About seven her senses
returned. I asked, ‘Where have you been 2'- ‘I
have been with my Saviour.” – “In heaven or on
earth P’ – ‘I cannot tell; but I was in glory !’—
‘Why, then, did you cry?”—“Not for myself, but
for the world; for I saw they were on the brink of
hell.’ — ‘Whom did you desire to give the glory to
God?’ — ‘Ministers that cry aloud to the world; else
they will be proud; and then God will leave them,
and they will lose their own souls.’” - - -
With all his knowledge of the human heart, (and
few persons have had such opportunities of extensive
and intimate observation,) Wesley had not discovered,
that when occasion is afforded for imposture of this
kind, the propensity to it is a vice to which children
and young persons are especially addicted. If there
be any natural obliquity of mind, sufficient motives
are found in the pride of deceiving their elders, and
the pleasure which they feel in exercising the monkey-
like instinct of imitation.* This is abundantly proved
by the recorded tales of witchcraft in this country, in
New England, and in Sweden; and it is from subjects
like this girl, whose acting Wesley beheld with reve-
rential credulity, instead of reasonable suspicion, that
the friars have made regular-bred saints, such as
Rosa of Peru, and Catharine of Sienna. With regard
to the bodily effects that ensued, whenever the
spiritual influenza began, there could be no doubt of
their reality; but it had so much the appearance of
an influenza, raging for a while, affecting those within
* This is a just and happy remark; but in cases like this of Wesley's,
no one ever saw it, who did not instantly see that it was an actual product
of some strange state of the nervous system, utterly unimitable by voli-
tion. —S. T. C. - r .
WOL. II, P
210 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE.
its sphere, and then dying away, that Wesley could
not be so fully satisfied concerning the divine and
supernatural exciting cause, as he had been when
first the disease manifested itself at Bristol, and as he
still desired to be. “I have generally observed,”
said he, “more or less of these outward symptoms to
attend the beginning of a general work of God. So
it was in New England, Scotland, Holland, Ireland,
and many parts of England; but, after a time, they
gradually decrease, and the work goes on more quietly
and silently. Those whom it pleases God to employ
in his work, ought to be quite passive in this respect:
they should choose nothing, but leave entirely to him
all the circumstances of his own work.”
Returning to Everton, about four months after-
wards, he found “a remarkable difference as to the
manner of the work. None now were in trances,
none cried out, none fell down, or were convulsed.
Only some trembled exceedingly; a low murmur was
heard, and many were refreshed with the multitude of
peace.” The disease had spent itself, and the reflec-
tions which he makes upon this change, show that
others had begun to suspect its real nature, and that
he himself was endeavouring to quiet his own sus-
picions. “The danger was,” says he, “to regard
extraordinary circumstances too much, – such as
outcries, convulsions, visions, trances; as if these were
essential to the inward work, so that it could not go
on without them. Perhaps the danger is, to regard
them too little; to condemn them altogether; to
imagine they had nothing of God in them, and were a
hindrance to his work; whereas the truth is, 1. God
suddenly and strongly convinced many that they were
lost sinners, the natural consequences whereof were
sudden outcries, and strong bodily convulsions. 2.
To strengthen and encourage them that believed, and
to make his work more apparent, he favoured several
WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE. 211
of them with divine dreams; others with trances and
visions. 3. In some of these instances, after a time,
nature mixed with grace. 4. Satan likewise mimicked
this work of God, in order to discredit the whole work;
and yet it is not wise to give up this part, any more
than to give up the whole. At first it was, doubtless,
wholly from God: it is partly so at this day; and He
will enable us to discern how far, in every case, the
work is pure, and when it mixes or degenerates. Let
us even suppose that, in some few cases, there was a
mixture of dissimulation; that persons pretended to
see or feel what they did not, and imitated the cries
or convulsive motions of those who were really over-
powered by the Spirit of God; yet even this should
not make us either deny or undervalue the real work
of the Spirit. The shadow is no disparagement of
the substance, nor the counterfeit of the real dia-
mond.”
His tone, perhaps, was thus moderated, because,
by recording former extravagances of this kind in
full triumph, he had laid himself open to attacks
which he had not been able to repel. Warburton
had censured these things with his strong sense and
powers of indignant sarcasm; and they had been ex-
posed still more effectually by Bishop Lavington, of
Exeter, in “A Comparison between the Enthusiasm
of Methodists and of Papists.” Here Wesley, who
was armed and proof at other points, was vulnerable.
He could advance plausible arguments, even for the
least defensible of his doctrines; and for his irregu-
larities, some that were valid and incontestable. On
that score he was justified by the positive good which
Methodism had done, and was doing; but here he
stood convicted of a credulity discreditable to himself,
and dangerous in its consequences; the whole evil of
scenes so disorderly, so scandalous, and so frightful,
was distinctly seen by his opponents; and perhaps
P 2
212 WESLEY IN MIDI) LE AGE.
they did not make a sufficient allowance for the phe-
nomena of actual disease, and the manner in which,
upon their first appearance, they were likely to affect
a mind, heated as his had been at the commencement
of his career. In all his other controversies, Wesley
preserved that urbane and gentle tone, which arose
from the genuine benignity of his disposition and
manners; but he replied to Bishop Lavington with
asperity: the attack had galled him; he could not
but feel that his opponent stood upon the vantage
ground; and, evading the main charge, he contented
himself in his reply * with explaining away certain
passages, which were less obnoxious than they had
been made to appear, and disproving some personal
charges f which the Bishop had repeated upon evi-
dence that appeared, upon inquiry, not worthy of the
credit he had given to it. But Wesley's resentments
were never lasting: of this, a passage in his Journal,
written a few years afterwards, affords a pleasing
proof. Having attended service at Exeter Cathedral,
he says, “I was well pleased to partake of the Lord's
Supper with my old opponent, Bishop Lavington.
Oh, may we sit down together in the kingdom of our
Father l’” He understood the happiness of his tem-
per in this respect, and says of it, “I cannot but
stand amazed at the goodness of God. Others are
most assaulted on the weak side of their soul; but
* His Journal shows that he undertook the task with no alacrity.
“I began writing a letter to the Comparer of the Papists and Method-
ists. Heavy work; such as I should never choose; but sometimes
it must be done. Well might the ancient say, ‘God made practical
divinity necessary ; the Devil, controversial.” But it is necessary. We
must resist the Devil, or he will not flee from us.” -
+ On this point it is proper to state, that he does justice to the
Bishop in his Journal. For when he notices that, calling upon the
person who was named as the accuser, she told him readily and re-
peatedly, that she “never saw or knew any harm by him,” he adds,
“yet I am not sure that she has not said just the contrary to others.
If so, she, not I, must give account for it to God.” - - -
WESLEY IN MIDI) LE AGE. 213
with me it is quite otherwise. If I have any strength
at all, (and I have none but what I received,) it is
in forgiving injuries; and on this very side am I
assaulted more frequently than on any other. Yet
leave me not here one hour to myself, or I shall
betray myself and Thee!”
Warburton, though a more powerful opponent, as-
sailed him with less effect. Wesley replied to him in
a respectful tone, and met the attack fairly. He
entered upon the question of Grace, maintained his
own view of that subject, and repeated, in the most
explicit terms, his full belief, that the course which
he and his coadjutors had taken was approved by
miracles. “I have seen with my eyes,” said he, “and
heard with my ears, several things which, to the best
of my judgement, cannot be accounted for by the
ordinary course of natural causes, and which I there-
fore believe ought to be ascribed to the extraordinary
interposition of God. If any man choose to call these
miracles, I reclaim not. I have weighed the pre-
ceding and following circumstances; I have strove to
account for them in a natural way; but could not,
without doing violence to my reason.” He instanced
the case of John Haydon, and the manner in which
he himself, by an effort of faith, had thrown off a
fever. The truth of these facts, he said, was sup-
ported by the testimony of competent witnesses, in
as high a degree as any reasonable man could desire:
the witnesses were many in number, and could not
be deceived themselves; for they saw with their own
eyes, and heard with their own ears. He disclaimed
for himself any part in these and the other cases,
which might appear to redound to his praise: his
will, or choice, or desire, he said, had no place in
them; and this, he argued, had always been the case
with true miracles; for God interposed his mira-
culous powers always according to his own sovereign
P 3
214 WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE.
will; not according to the will of man; neither of him.
by whom he wrought, nor of any other man whatso-
ever. So many such interpositions, he affirmed, had
taken place, as would soon leave no excuse either for
denying or despising them. “We desire no favour,”
said he, “but the justice, that diligent inquiry may be
made concerning them. We are ready to name the
persons on whom the power was shown, which be-
longeth to none but God, (not one or two, or ten or
twelve, only,) — to point out their places of abode;
and we engage they shall answer every pertinent
question fairly and directly; and, if required, shall
give all their answers upon oath, before any who are
empowered to receive them. It is our particular
request, that the circumstances which went before,
which accompanied, and which followed after the
facts under consideration, may be thoroughly exa-
mined, and punctually noted down. Let but this be
done, (and is it not highly needful it should, at least
by those who would form an exact judgement?) and
we have no fear that any reasonable man should
scruple to say, “This hath God wrought.”
It had never entered into Wesley's thoughts, when
he thus appealed to what were called the outward
signs, as certainly miraculous, that they were the
manifestations of a violent and specific disease, pro-
duced by excessive excitement of the mind, commu-
nicable by sympathy, and highly contagious. We
are yet far from understanding the whole power of
the mind over the body; nor, perhaps, will it ever be
fully understood. It was very little regarded in
Wesley's time: these phenomena therefore were con-
sidered by the Methodists, and by those who beheld
them, as wholly miraculous; by all other persons, as
mere exhibitions of imposture. Even Charles Wesley,
when he discovered that much was voluntary, had no
suspicion that the rest might be natural; and John,
WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 215
in all cases where any thing supernatural was pre-
tended, was, of all men, the most credulous. In the
excesses at Everton he had, however reluctantly,
perceived something which savoured of fraud; and,
a few years afterward, circumstances of much greater
notoriety occurred, when, from the weakness of his
mind, he encouraged at first a dangerous enthusiasm,
which soon broke out into open madness.
Among his lay preachers, there was a certain George
Bell, who had formerly been a life-guardsman. Mr.
Wesley published, as plainly miraculous, an account
of an instantaneous cure wrought by this man: it
was a surgical case”, and must therefore either have
* “ Dec. 26. 1760. I made a particular inquiry into the case of
Mary Special, a young woman then in Tottenham-court-road. She
said, ‘Four years since, I found much pain in my breasts, and after-
wards hard lumps. Four months ago my left breast broke, and kept
running continually. Growing worse and worse, after some time I
was recommended to St. George's Hospital. I was let blood many
times, and took hemlock thrice a day; but I was no better, the pain
and the lumps were the same, and both my breasts were quite hard, and
black as soot ; when, yesterday se’nnight, I went to Mr. Owen’s, where
there was a meeting for prayer. Mr. Bell saw me and asked, Have
you faith to be healed P I said, yes. He prayed for me, and in a
moment, all my pain was gone. But the next day I felt a little pain
again : I clapped my hands on my breasts, and cried out, Lord, if thou
wilt, thou canst make me whole ! It was gone ; and, from that hour I
have had no pain, no soreness, no lumps or swelling, but both my breasts
were perfectly well, and I have been so ever since.” Now,” says Mr.
Wesley, “here are plain facts: 1. she was ill ; 2. she is well ; 3. she
became so in a moment.” Which of these can, with any modesty, be de-
nied ?” It is not a little remarkable, that after Bell had become de-
cidedly crazy, recovered his wits, forsaken the Methodists, and professed
himself a thorough unbeliever, Mr. Wesley should still have believed
this story, and have persisted in asking the same question, without sus-
pecting any deceit in either party. The fraud lay in the woman, Bell
being a thorough enthusiast at that time.*
* Is it ascertained that Wesley did not make inquiry at St. George's
Hospital 2 Wesley published it immediately. It would be odd that
neither physician, surgeon, apothecary, sister, or student should have
come forward to undeceive the public, or Wesley at least. As to the fact
itself, Southey’s “must — either ——or ” is grounded on imper-
fect knowledge of the complaint here described. It was not a surgical (i. e.
not medical) case, though one that by courtesy surgeons in London may
take in hand. Nay, it is of that class which have been found most
P 4
216. WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE.
been miracle or fraud. A judicious inquiry would
have shown that Bell, who was not in a sane mind,
had been a dupe in this business; but Wesley con-
tented himself with the patient's own relation, accre-
dited it without scruple, and recorded it in a tone of
exultation. Bell was at that time crazy, and any
doubt which he might have entertained of his own
supernatural gifts, was removed by this apparent
miracle, the truth of which was thus attested. Others
who listened to him became as crazy as himself; and
Wesley was persuaded that, “being full of love,” they
were actually “favoured with extraordinary revela-
tions and manifestations from God. But by this very
thing,” says he, “Satan beguiled them from the sim-
plicity that is in Christ. By insensible degrees, they
were led to value these extraordinary gifts more than
the ordinary grace of God; and I could not convince
them, that a grain of humble love was better than all
these gifts put together.”
In the height of George Bell's extravagance, he at-
tempted to restore a blind man to sight, touched his
eyes with spittle, and pronounced the word Ephphatha.
The ecclesiastical authorities ought to have a power
of sending such persons to Bedlam, for the sake of
religion and of decency, and for the general good;
but such madmen in England are suffered to go
abroad, and bite whom they please with impunity.
The failure of the blasphemous experiment neither
undeceived him nor his believers; and they accounted
for it by saying, that the patient had not faith to be
healed. Wesley had begun to suspect the sanity of
these enthusiasts, because they had taken up a notion,
often and most influenced by stimulants of imagination, sudden acts of
active and passive volition, and (next akin to these) by regulated friction
—touching, or breathing, and the like. Had the second case, that of
the blind man, been amaurotic, or a case of disordered function, not or—
ganic disease or defect, in all probability the enthusiastic sturdy life-
guards-man would have cured it. —S. T. C.
WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGF. 217
from a text in the Revelations, that they should live
for ever. As, however, one of the most enthusiastic
happened to go raving mad, and die, he thought the
delusion would be checked ; as if a disease of the
reason could be cured by the right exercise of the
diseased faculty itself! Moreover, with their enthu-
siasm personal feelings were mixed up, of dislike to-
wards him and his brother, arising from an impatience
of their superiority; and this feeling induced Max-
field to stand forward as the leader of the innovators,
though he was not the dupe of their delusions. Mr.
Wesley desired the parties to meet him, that all mis-
understandings might be removed. Maxfield alone
refused to come. “Is this,” said Wesley, “the first
step towards a separation 1 Alas for the man, alas
for the people !” It is said that no other event ever
grieved him so deeply as the conduct of Maxfield;
for it at Once impeached his judgement, and wounded
him as an act of ingratitude. Maxfield was the first
person whom he had consented to hear as a lay
preacher, and the first whom he authorised to co-
operate with him in that character: and so highly
did he value him, that he had obtained ordination for
him from the Bishop of Londonderry. This prelate
was one of the clergy who encouraged Mr. Wesley in
Ireland; and when he performed the ceremony, he
said to Maxfield, “Sir, I ordain you to assist that
good man, that he may not work himself to death !”
But of all the lessons which he learnt from Wesley,
it now appeared that that of insubordination was the
one in which he was most perfect.
The breach, however, was not immediate: some
concessions were made by Maxfield; and Wesley, after
a while, addressed a letter to him and his associates,
especially George Bell, telling them what he disliked
in their doctrines, spirit, and outward behaviour. He
objected to their teaching that man might be as per-
218 - WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE.
fect 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. To this, however, his own language had
given occasion; for the doctrine which he taught, of
“a free, full, and present salvation, from all the guilt,
all the power, and all the in-being of sin,” differs but
a hair's breadth from the tenet which he now justly
condemned. He objected to their saying, “that one
saved from sin needs nothing more than looking to
Jesus, -needs not to hear or think of any thing else;
believe, believe, is enough : that he needs no self-exa-
mination, no times of private prayer; needs not mind
little or outward things; and that he cannot be taught
by any person who is not in the same state.” He dis-
liked, he said, “something that had the appearance of
enthusiasm — overvaluing feelings and inward impres-
sions; mistaking the mere work of imagination for the
voice of the Spirit; expecting the end without the
means; and undervaluing reason, knowledge, and
wisdom in general.” He disliked “something that had
the appearance of Antinomianism ; not magnifying
the law, and making it honourable; not enough valuing
tenderness of conscience, and exact watchfulness in
order thereto; and using faith rather as contradistin-
guished from holiness, than as productive of it.” He
blamed them for slighting any, the very least, rules of
the Bands, or Society; for the disorder and extrava-
gances which they introduced in their public meetings;
and, above all, for the bitter and uncharitable spirit
which they manifested toward all who differed from
them. And he bade them read this letter of mild
reproof, calmly and impartially, before the Lord in
prayer; so, he said, should the evil cease, and the
good remain, and they would then be more than ever
united to him.
Wesley was not then aware of Maxfield's intention
WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 219
to set up for himself, and hardly yet suspected the
insanity of Bell, his colleague. Upon hearing the
latter hold forth, he believed that part of what he said
was from God, (so willing was Wesley to be deceived
in such things l) and part from an heated imagination;
and seeing, he says, nothing dangerously wrong, he
did not think it necessary to hinder him. The next
trial, however, convinced him that Bell must not be
suffered to pray at the Foundry: “the reproach of
Christ,” said he, “I am willing to bear, but not the
reproach of enthusiasm, if I can help it.” That no-
thing might be done hastily, he suffered him to speak,
twice more; “but,” says he, “it was worse and worse.
He now spoke, as from God, what I knew God had not
spoken; I therefore desired that he would come thither
no more.” The excommunication, indeed, could no
longer be delayed”, for George Bell had commenced
prophet, and proclaimed every where that the world
was to be at an end on the 28th of February following.
This, however, was the signal for separation: several
hundreds of the Society in London threw up their
tickets, and withdrew from their connection with
Wesley, saying, “Blind John is not capable of teach-
ing us, we will keep to Mr. Maxfield !” for Maxfield
was the leader of the separatists; and Bell, notwith-
* Wesley was evidently conscious that he had delayed it too long,
and that he had lost credit, by being, or appearing to be, for a time
deceived by this madman. The apology which he makes is any thing
but ingenuous. “Perhaps,” he says, “reason (unenlightened) makes
me simple. If I knew less of human nature, I should be more apt to
stumble at the weakness of it; and if I had not too, by nature or by
grace, some clearness of apprehension. It is owing to this (under God)
that I never staggered at all at the reveries of George Bell. I saw in-
stantly, from the beginning, and at the beginning, what was right, and
what was wrong; but I saw, withal, “I have many things to speak, but
ye cannot bear them now.’ Hence many imagine I was imposed upon,
and applauded themselves on their own greater perspicuity, as they do at
this day. But if you knew it, said his friend to Gregorio Lopez,
why did you not tell me? I answer with him, ‘ I do not speak all I
know, but what I judge needful.’” -
220 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE.
standing his prophetic pretensions, appeared only as
one of his followers. He, indeed, was at this time a
downright honest madman. The part which Maxfield
acted was more suspicious: he neither declared a
belief or disbelief in the prediction; but he took advan-
tage of the prophet's popularity, to collect a flock
among his believers, and form an establishment for
himself. -
Often as the end of the world has been prophesied
by madmen, such a prediction has never failed to ex-
cite considerable agitation. Wesley exerted himself
to counteract the panic which had been raised; and,
on the day appointed, he exposed, in a sermon, the
utter absurdity of the supposition that the world
would be at an end that night. But he says that, not-
withstanding all he could say, many were afraid to go
to bed, and some wandered about the fields, being
persuaded that, if the world did not end, at least
London would be swallowed up by an earthquake.
He had the prudence, before the day arrived, to insert
an advertisement in the provincial newspapers, dis-
claiming all connection with the prophet or the pro-
phecy; a precaution which was of great service to poor
George Story; for, in the course of itinerating, he ar-
rived at Darlington on the day appointed. The people
in that neighbourhood had been sorely frightened; but
fear had given place to indignation, and, in their wrath,
they threatened to pull down the Methodist preaching-
house, and burn the first preacher who should dare to
show his face among them. Little as Story was of
an enthusiast, he told the mistress of the house, if
she would venture the house, he would venture him-
self; and, upon producing the advertisement in the
Newcastle paper, and reading it to the people, they
were satisfied, and made no further disturbance.
George Bell recovered his senses, to make a deplorable
use of them : passing from one extreme to another, the
WESLEY IN MIDI) LE AGE. 22}
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.
This affair, if it made Wesley more cautious for
awhile, did not lessen his habitual credulity. His dis-
position to believe whatever he was told, however
improbable the fact, or insufficient the evidence, was
not confined to preternatural tales. He listened to
every old woman's nostrum for a disease, and col-
lected so many of them, that he thought himself
qualified at last to commence practitioner in medicine.
Accordingly he announced in London his intention of
giving physic to the poor, and they came for many
years in great numbers, till the expense of distributing
medicines to them was greater than the Society could
support. At the same time, for the purpose of enabling
people to cure themselves, he published his collection
of receipts, under the title of “Primitive Physic; or, an
easy and natural Method of curing most Diseases.” In
his preface he showed, that the art of healing was
originally founded on experiments, and so became
traditional: inquiring men, in process of time, began
to reason upon the facts which they knew, and formed
theories of physic, which, when thus made theoretical,
was soon converted into a mystery and a craft. Some
lovers of mankind, however, had still from time to
time endeavoured to bring it back to its ancient footing,
and make it, as it was at the beginning, a plain intelli-
gible thing; professing to know nothing more than that
certain maladies might be removed by certain medi-
cines; and his mean hand, he said, had made a like
attempt, in which he had only consulted experience,
common sense, and the common interest of mankind.
The previous directions which he gave for prevent-
ing diseases, were in general judicious. He advised
early hours, regular exercise, plain diet, and temper-
222 WESLEY IN MIDIDLE AGE.
ance; and he pointed out, not without effect, the
physical benefits which resulted from a moral and
religious life. “All violent and sudden passions,” he
said, “dispose to, or actually throw people into, acute
diseases. The slow and lasting passions, such as grief,
and hopeless love, bring on chronical diseases. Till
the passion which caused the disease is calmed, medi-
cine is applied in vain. The love of God, as it is the
sovereign remedy of all miseries, so, in particular, it
effectually prevents all the bodily disorders the pas-
sions introduce, by keeping the passions themselves
within due bounds; and, by the unspeakable joy, and
perfect calm serenity and tranquillity it gives the
mind, it becomes the most powerful of all the means
of health and long life.” In his directions to the sick,
he recommends them to “add to the rest (for it is not
labour lost) that old unfashionable medicine, prayer;
and to have faith in God, who “killeth and maketh
alive, who bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth
up.'” The book itself must have done great mischief,
and probably may still continue so to do; for it has
been most extensively circulated *, and it evinces
throughout a lamentable want of judgement, and a
perilous rashness, advising sometimes means of ridi-
culous inefficacy in the most dangerous cases, and
sometimes remedies so rude, that it would be mar-
vellous if they did not destroy the patient. He
believed, however, that he had cured himself of what
* The current edition, which is now before me, is the twenty-eighth.
The cold bath is prescribed for ague, just before the cold fit; for pre-
venting apoplexy ; for weak infants, every day ; and for cancer. For
films in the sight, the eyes are to be touched with lunar caustic every
day ; or zibethum occidentale, dried slowly, and finely pulverised, is to
be blown into them. For siphylis, an ounce of quicksilver every morn-
ing ; and for the twisting of the intestimes, quicksilver, ounce by ounce,
to the amount of one, two, or three pounds ! Toasted cheese is recom-
mended for a cut ; and, for a rupture in children, “boil a spoonful of
egg-shells, dried in an oven, and powdered, in a pint of milk, and feed
the child constantly with bread boiled in this milk 1"
WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 223
was pronounced to be a confirmed consumption, and
had every symptom of it, by his favourite prescription
for pleurisy, a plaster of brimstone and white of egg,
spread upon brown paper. Upon applying this, the
pain in his side, he says, was removed in a few
minutes, the fever in half an hour ; and from that
hour he began to recover strength. His death had
been so fully expected, that Whitefield wrote him a
farewell letter, in the most affectionate terms, and a
consolatory one to his brother Charles. And he him-
self, not knowing, he says, how it might please God
to dispose of him, and to prevent vile panegyric, wrote
his own epitaph, in these words:
EIERE LIETEI
THE BODY OF JOHN WESLEY,
A BRAND PLUCKED OUT OF TEIF BURNING :
WHO DIED OF A CONSUMPTION, IN THE FIFTY-FIRST YEAR OF
HIS AGE,
NOT LEAVING, AFTER HIS DEBTS ARE PAID, TEN POUNDS
BEHIND HIM ;
PRAYING
GOD BE MERCIFUL TO ME AN UNPROFITABLE SERVANT |
“He ordered that this (if any) inscription should be placed on his
tombstone.”
224 .
CHAPTER XXV.
PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. — DEATH OF
WHITEFIELD. — FINAL BREACH BETWEEN WESLEY
AND THE CALVINISTS. *
WHITEFIELD had not continued long at enmity with
Wesley. He was sensible that he had given him
great and just offence by publishing the story of the
lots, and he acknowledged this, and asked his pardon.
Wesley's was a heart in which resentment never could
strike root: the difference between them, therefore,
as far as it was personal, was made up; but, upon
the doctrines in dispute, they remained as widely
separate as ever, and their respective followers were
less charitable than themselves.
Whitefield also had become a married man. He
had determined upon this in America, and opened his
intentions in a characteristic letter to the parents of
the lady whom he was disposed to choose. He told
them, that he found a mistress was necessary for the
management of his increasing family at the Orphan
House; and it had therefore been much impressed
upon his heart that he should marry, in order to have
a help meet for him in the work whereunto he was
called. “This,” he proceeded, “comes (like Abra-
ham's servant to Rebekah's relations) to know
whether you think your daughter, Miss E., is a proper
person to engage in such an undertaking 2 If so,
whether you will be pleased to give me leave to
propose marriage unto her ? You need not be afraid
of sending me a refusal; for, I bless God, if I know
any thing of my own heart, I am free from that
PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM, 225
foolish passion which the world calls love. I write,
only because I believe it is the will of God that I
should alter my state; but your denial will fully con-
vince me, that your daughter is not the person
appointed by God for me. But I have sometimes
thought Miss E. would be my helpmate, for she has
often been impressed upon my heart. After strong
crying and tears at the Throne of Grace for direction,
and after unspeakable trouble with my own heart, I
write this. Be pleased to spread the letter before the
Lord; and if you think this motion to be of Him, be
pleased to deliver the enclosed to your daughter. If
not, say nothing; only let me know you disapprove of
it, and that shall satisfy your obliged friend and
servant in Christ.” The letter to the lady was
written in the same temper. It invited her to partake
of a way of life which nothing but devotion and en-
thusiasm like his could render endurable. He told
her he had great reason to believe it was the Divine
will that he should alter his condition, and had often
thought she was the person appointed for him ; but
he should still wait on the Lord for direction, and
heartily entreat him, that if this motion were not of
Him, it might come to nought. “I much like,” said
he, “the manner of Isaac's marrying with Rebekah;
and think no marriage can succeed well, unless both
parties concerned are like-minded with Tobias and
his wife. I make no great profession to you, because
I believe you think me sincere. The passionate
expressions which carnal courtiers use, I think, ought
to be avoided by those that would marry in the Lord.
I can only promise, by the help of God, to keep my
matrimonial vow, and to do what I can towards
helping you forward in the great work of your sal-
vation. If you think marriage will be any way
prejudicial to your better part, be so kind as to send
me a denial.” The Moravian arrangement for pairing
WOL. II. Q
226 |PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM.
their members would have been very convenient for a
person of this temper.
The reply which he received informed him, that the
lady was in a seeking state only, and surely, he said,
that would not do: he must have one that was full
of faith and the Holy Ghost. Such an one he thought
he had found in a widow at Abergavenny, by name
James, who was between thirty and forty, and, by his
own account, neither rich nor beautiful, but having
once been gay, was now “a despised follower of the
Lamb.” He spoke of his marriage in language which
would seem profane, unless large allowances were
made for the indiscreet and offensive phraseology of
those who call themselves religious professors. The
success of his preaching appears at this time to have
intoxicated him : he fancied that something like a
gift of prophecy had been imparted to him ; and
when his wife became pregnant, he announced that
the child would be a boy, and become a preacher of
the Gospel. It proved a boy, and the father publicly
baptized him in the Tabernacle, and, in the presence
of a crowded congregation, solemnly devoted him to
the service of God. At the end of four months the
child died; and Whitefield then acknowledged that he
had been under a delusion : “Satan,” he said, “had
been permitted to give him some wrong impressions,
whereby he had misapplied several texts of Scripture.”
The lesson was severe, but not in vain, for it saved
him from any future extravagances of that kind. His
marriage was not a happy one *; and the death of his
wife is said, by one of his friends, to have “set his
mind much at liberty.” It is asserted that she did
* It is not likely to be so, as may be judged from what he says to
one of his married friends: “I hope you are not mimis wavorius. Take
heed, my dear B., take heed Time is short. It remains that those
who have wives, be as though they had none. Let nothing intercept
or interrupt your communion with the Bridegroom of the Church.”
PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. 227
not behave in all respects as she ought; but it is
admitted, that their disagreement was increased by
Some persons who made pretensions to more holiness
than they possessed. Whitefield was irritable, and
impatient of contradiction; and, even if his temper
had been as happily constituted as Wesley's, his habits
of life must have made him, like Wesley, a most
uncomfortable husband.
His popularity, however, was greatly on the in-
crease. So great, indeed, was his confidence in his
powers over the rudest of mankind, that he ventured
upon preaching to the rabble in Moorfields during
the Whitsun holidays, when, as he said, Satan's
children kept up their annual rendezvous there. This
was a sort of pitched battle with Satan, and White-
field displayed some generalship upon the occasion.
He took the field betimes, with a large congregation
of “praying people” to attend him, and began at six
in the morning, before the enemy had mustered in
strength. Not above ten thousand persons were
assembled waiting for the sports; and, having nothing
else to do, they, for mere pastime, presently flocked
round his field-pulpit. “ Glad was I to find,” says
he, “that I had for once as it were got the start of
the Devil.” Encouraged by the success of his morn-
ing preaching, he ventured there again at noon, when,
in his own words, “the fields, the whole fields,
seemed, in a bad sense of the word, all white, ready,
not for the Redeemer's, but Beelzebub's harvest. All
his agents were in full motion ; drummers, trum-
peters, merry-andrews, masters of puppet-shows,
exhibitors of wild beasts, players, &c. &c., all busy in
entertaining their respective auditories.” He esti-
mated the crowd to consist of from twenty to thirty
thousand persons; and thinking that, like St. Paul,
he should now, in a metaphorical sense, be called to
fight with wild beasts, he took for his text, “Great is
Q 2
228 PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM.
Diana of the Ephesians.” “You may easily guess,”
says he, “that there was some noise among the crafts-
men, and that I was honoured with having a few
stones, dirt, rotten eggs, and pieces of dead cats
thrown at me, while engaged in calling them from
their favourite but lying vanities. My soul was,
indeed, among lions; but far the greatest part of my
congregation, which was very large, seemed for a
while to be turned into lambs.” He then gave notice
that he would preach again at six in the evening. “I
came,” he says, “I saw, - but what ? Thousands
and thousands more than before, if possible, still more
deeply engaged in their unhappy diversions, but some
thousands amongst them waiting as earnestly to hear
the Gospel. This Satan could not brook. One of his
choicest servants was exhibiting, trumpeting on a
large stage; but, as soon as the people saw me in my
black robes, and my pulpit, I think all, to a man, left
him and ran to me. For a while I was enabled to lift
up my voice like a trumpet, and many heard the
joyful sound. God's people kept praying, and the
enemy's agents made a kind of roaring at some dis-
tance from our camp. At length they approached
nearer, and the merry-andrew (attended by others,
who complained that they had taken many pounds
less that day, on account of my preaching,) got upon
a man's shoulders, and advancing near the pulpit,
attempted to slash me with a long heavy whip several
times, but always, with the violence of his motion,
tumbled down.” Soon afterwards, they got a re-
cruiting sergeant, with his drums, fifes, and followers,
to pass through the congregation. But Whitefield,
by his tactics, baffled this manoeuvre: he ordered
them to make way for the king's officers: the ranks
opened, and when the party had marched through,
closed again. When the uproar became, as it some-
times did, such as to overpower his single voice,
PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. 229
he called the voices of all his people to his aid, and
began singing; and thus, what with singing, praying,
and preaching, he continued, by his own account,
three hours upon the ground, till the darkness made
it time to break up. So great was the impression
which this wonderful man produced in this extra-
ordinary scene, that more than a thousand notes were
handed up to him, from persons who, as the phrase
is, were brought under concern by his preaching that
day, and three hundred and fifty persons joined his
congregation.
On the Tuesday he removed to Mary-le-bone fields,
a place of similar resort. Here a Quaker had pre-
pared a very high pulpit for him, but not having fixed
the supports well in the ground, the preacher found
himself in some jeopardy, especially when the mob
endeavoured to push the circle of his friends against
it, and so to throw it down. But he had a narrower
escape after he had descended; “for as I was passing,”
says he, “from the pulpit to the coach, I felt my wig
and hat to be almost off: I turned about, and observed
a sword just touching my temples. A young rake,
as I afterwards found, was determined to stab me;
but a gentleman, seeing the sword thrusting near me,
struck it up with his cane, and so the destined victim
providentially escaped.” The man who made this
atrocious attempt, probably in a fit of drunken fury,
was seized by the people, and would have been handled
as severely as he deserved, if one of Whitefield's friends
had not sheltered him. The following day Whitefield
returned to the attack in Moorfields: and here he
gave a striking example of that ready talent which
turns every thing to its purpose. A merry-andrew,
finding that no common acts of buffoonery were of any
avail, got into a tree near the pulpit, and, as much
perhaps in despite as in insult, exposed his bare
posteriors to the preacher, in the sight of all the
Q 3
230 PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM.
people. The more brutal mob applauded him with
loud laughter, while decent persons were abashed;
and Whitefield himself was for a moment confounded;
but instantly recovering himself, he appealed to all,
since now they had such a spectacle before them,
whether he had wronged human nature in saying,
with Bishop Hall, that man, when left to himself, is
half a fiend and half a brute; or, in calling him, with
William Law, a motley mixture of the beast and
devil! The appeal was not lost upon the crowd,
whatever it might be upon the wretch by whom it was
occasioned. A circumstance at these adventurous
preachings is mentioned, which affected Whitefield
himself, and must have produced considerable effect
upon others: – several children, of both sexes, used
to sit round him, on the pulpit, while he preached,
for the purpose of handing to him the notes, which
were delivered by persons upon whom his exhortations
had acted as he desired. These poor children were
exposed to all the missiles with which he was assailed:
however much they were terrified or hurt, they never
shrunk; “but, on the contrary,” says he, “every
time I was struck, they turned up their little weeping
eyes, and seemed to wish they could receive the blows
for me.”
Shortly after his separation from Wesley, some
Calvinist dissenters built a large shed for him, near
the Foundry, upon a piece of ground which was lent
for the purpose, till he should return to America.
From the temporary nature of the structure, they
called it a Tabernacle, in allusion to the moveable
place of worship of the Israelites during their journey
in the wilderness; and the name being in puritanical
taste, became the designation of all the chapels of the
Calvinistic Methodists. In this place Whitefield was
assisted by Cennick and others, who sided with him
at the division; and he employed lay preachers with
PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. 231
less reluctance than Wesley had done; because the
liking which he had acquired in America for the old
Puritans had in some degree alienated his feelings
from the Church, and his predestinarian opinions
brought him in contact with the Dissenters. But
Whitefield had neither the ambition of founding a
separate community, nor the talent for it; he would
have contented himself with being the founder of the
Orphan House at Savannah, and with the effect which
he produced as a roving preacher; and Calvinistic
Methodism, perhaps, might never have been embodied
into a separate sect, if it had not found a patroness in
Selina Countess of Huntingdon.
This “noble and elect lady,” as her followers have
called her, was daughter of Washington Earl of
Ferrers, and widow of Theophilus Earl of Hunting-
don. There was a decided insanity in her family.
Her sisters-in-law, Lady Betty and Lady Margaret
Hastings, were of a religious temper: the former had
been the patroness of the first Methodists at Oxford;
the latter had become a disciple, and at length married
Wesley's old pupil and fellow-missionary Ingham.
Lady Margaret communicated her opinions to the
Countess: the Wesleys were called in to her, after a
dangerous illness, which had been terminated by the
new birth ; and her husband's tutor, Bishop Benson,
who was sent for afterwards, in hopes that he might
restore her to a saner sense of devotion, found all his
arguments ineffectual: instead of receiving instruc-
tions from him, she was disposed to be the teacher,
quoted the Homilies against him, insisted upon her
own interpretation of the Articles, and attacked him
upon the aweful responsibility of his station. All this
is said to have irritated him : the emotion which he
must needs have felt, might have been more truly, as
well as more charitably, interpreted: and when he
left her, he lamented that he had ever laid his hands
& 4
232. PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM.
upon George Whitefield. “My lord,” she replied,
“mark, my words! when you come upon your dying
bed, that will be one of the few ordinations you will
reflect upon with complacence.”
“During the Earl's life she restrained herself, in
deference to his wishes; but, becoming mistress of
herself, and of a liberal income, at his death, she took
a more decided and public part, and, had means per-
mitted, would have done as much for Methodism as
the Countess Matilda did for the Papacy. Upon
Whitefield's return from America, in 1748, he was
invited to her house at Chelsea, as soon as he landed.
And after he had officiated there twice, she wrote to
him, inviting him again, that some of the nobility
might hear him. “Blessed be God,” he says, in his
reply, “that the rich and great begin to have an
hearing ear: I think it is a good sign that our Lord
intends to give, to some at least, an obedient heart.
How wonderfully does our Redeemer deal with souls |
If they will hear the Gospel only under a ceiled roof,
ministers shall be sent to them there; if only in a
church or a field, they shall have it there. A word
in the lesson, when I was last with your ladyship,
struck me, - Paul preached privately to those that were
of reputation. This must be the way, I presume, of
dealing with the nobility, who yet know not the
Lord.” This is characteristic; and his answer to a
a second note, respecting the time, is still more so:
“Ever since the reading your ladyship's condescending
letter, my soul has been overpowered with His pre-
sence who is all in all. When your ladyship styled
me your friend, I was amazed at your condescension;
but when I thought that Jesus was my friend, it quite
overcame me, and made me to lie prostrate before
him, crying, Why me?—why me? I just now rose
from the ground, after praying the Lord of all lords
to water your soul, honoured madam, every moment.
PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. 233
As there seems to be a door opening for the nobility
to hear the Gospel, I will defer my journey, and, God
willing, preach at your ladyship's. Oh that God may
be with me, and make me humble ! I am ashamed to
think your ladyship will admit me under your roof;
much more am I amazed that the Lord Jesus will
make use of such a creature as I am ; – quite asto-
nished at your ladyship's condescension, and the
unmerited superabounding grace and goodness of Him
who has loved me, and given Himself for me.” Wes-
ley would not have written in this strain, which, for
its servile adulation, and its canting vanity, might
well provoke disgust and indignation, were not the
real genius and piety of the writer beyond all doubt.
Such, however, as the language is, it was natural in
Whitefield, and not ill suited for the person to whom
it was addressed.
Lord Chesterfield and Bolingbroke were among his
auditors at Chelsea: the Countess had done well in
inviting those persons who stood most in need of
repentance. The former complimented the preacher
with his usual courtliness; the latter is said to have
been much moved at the discourse: he invited White-
field to visit him, and seems to have endeavoured to
pass from infidelity to Calvinism, if he could. Lady
Huntingdon, flattered, perhaps, by the applause which
was bestowed upon the performance, appointed White-
field one of her chaplains. He, at this time, writing
to Mr. Wesley, says, “What have you thought about
an union ? I am afraid an external one is impracti-
cable. I find, by your sermons, that we differ in
principles more than I thought, and I believe we are
upon two different plans. My attachment to America
will not permit me to abide very long in England;
consequently I should but weave a Penelope's web if
I formed societies; and, if I should form them, I have
not proper assistants to take care of them. I intend,
234 PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM.
therefore, to go about preaching the Gospel to every
creature.” In saying that he had “no party to be at
the head of,” and that, through God's grace, he would
have none, Whitefield only disclaimed the desire of
placing himself in a situation which he was not com-
petent to fill: at this very time he was sufficientl
willing that a party should be formed, of which he
might be the honorary head, while the management
was in other hands: for he told the elect lady that
a leader was wanting; and that that honour had been
put on her ladyship by the great Head of the Church,
—an honour which had been conferred on few, but
which was an earnest of what she was to receive, before
men and angels, when time should be no more. That
honour Lady Huntingdon accepted. She built cha-
pels in various places, which were called hers, and
procured Calvinistic clergymen to officiate in them.
After a time, a sufficient supply of Ordained ministers
could not be found, and some began to draw back,
when they perceived that the course of action in
which they were engaged tended manifestly to schism.
This, however, did not deter her ladyship from pro-
ceeding: she followed the example of Mr. Wesley, and
employed laymen without scruple; and as the chapels
were called Lady Huntingdon's chapels, the persons who
officiated were called Lady Huntingdon's preachers.
At length she set up a seminary for such preachers, at
Trevecca, in South Wales; and this was called Lady
Huntingdon's College, and the Calvinist Methodists
went by the name of Lady Huntingdon's connection.
The terms of admission were, that the students should
be truly converted to God, and resolved to dedicate
themselves to his service. During three years they
were to be boarded and instructed gratuitously, at her
ladyship's cost, and supplied every year with a suit
of clothes: at the end of that time they were either to
PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. 235
take orders, or enter the ministry among dissenters
of any denomination. - -
Sincere devotee as the Countess was, she retained
much of the pride of birth. For this reason White-
field, who talked of her amazing condescension in
patronising him, would have been more acceptable to
her than Wesley, even if he had not obtained a pre-
ference in her esteem because of his Calvinism; and
perhaps this disposition inclined her, unconsciously,
to favour a doctrine which makes a privileged order
of souls. Wesley, therefore, who neither wanted, nor
would have admitted, patron or patroness to be the
temporal head of the societies which he had formed,
and was as little likely to act a subordinate part under
Lady Huntingdon as under Count Zinzendorf, seems
never to have been cordially liked by her, and gra-
dually grew into disfavour. The reconciliation with
Whitefield was, perhaps, produced more by a regard
to appearances on both sides, than by any feeling on
either. Such a wound as had been made in their
friendship always leaves a scar, however well it may
have healed. They interchanged letters, not very
frequently; and they preached occasionally in each
other's pulpits; but there was no cordial intercourse,
no hearty co-operation. Whitefield saw, and disap-
proved, in Wesley, that ambition of which the other
was not conscious in himself, largely as it entered
into the elements of his character: and Wesley, on
the other hand, who felt his own superiority in intel-
lect and knowledge, regarded probably as a weak-
ness the homage which was paid by Whitefield to
persons in high life. Yet they did justice to each
other's intentions and virtues: and old feelings some-
times rose again, as from the dead; like the blossomin
of spring flowers in autumn, which remind us that the
season of hope and of joyance is gone by. It is plea-
236 PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM.
sant to observe, that this tenderness increased as they
advanced toward the decline of life. When Whitefield
returned from America to England for the last time,
Wesley was struck with the change in his appearance:
“he seemed,” says he, in his Journal, “to be an 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 dif-
ference from what I was at five-and-twenty; only that
I have fewer teeth, and more grey hairs.”
Lady Huntingdon had collected about her a knot
of Calvinistic clergy, some of them of high birth, and
abounding as much with bigotry and intolerance as
with zeal. Whitefield, however, at this time, to use
Wesley's language, breathed nothing but peace and
love. “Bigotry,” said he, “cannot stand before him,
but hides its head wherever he comes. 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.” Accordingly Wesley preached
in the Countess's chapel, where, he says, many were
not a little surprised at seeing him, and where it ap-
pears that he did not expect to be often invited; for
he adds, that he was in no concern whether he preached
there again or not. Whitefield and Howel Harris (a
man whose genuine charity was no ways corrupted by
his opinions) attended at the next Conference.
This union continued till Whitefield returned to
America, in 1769, and died there in the following
year. A fear of outliving his usefulness had often
depressed him : and one day, when, giving way to an
irritable temper, he brought tears from one who had
not deserved such treatment, he burst into tears him-
self, and exclaimed, “I shall live to be a poor peevish
old man, and every body will be tired of me!” He
IDEATH OF WHITEFIELD, . 237
wished for a sudden death; and that blessing was so
far vouchsafed him, that the illness which proved fatal
was only of a few hours' continuance. It was a fit
of asthma : when it seized him first, one of his friends
expressed a wish that he would not preach so often ;
and his reply was, “I had rather wear out, than rust
out.” He died at Newbury Port, in New England;
and, according to his own desire, was buried before
the pulpit, in the Presbyterian Church of that town.
Every mark of respect was shown to his remains: all
the bells in the town tolled, and the ships in the har-
bour fired mourning guns, and hung their flags half.
mast high. In Georgia, all the black cloth in the
stores was bought up, and the church was hung with
black: the governor and council met at the state-house
in deep mourning, and went in procession to hear a
funeral sermon. Funeral honours also were performed
throughout the tabernacles in England. He had been
asked who should preach his funeral sermon, in case
of his dying abroad; whether it should be his old
friend Mr. Wesley; and had always replied, He is the
man. Mr. Wesley, therefore, by desire of the execu-
tors, preached at the Tabernacle in Tottenham-court-
road (the high-church of the sect); and in many
other places did the same, wishing, he said, to show
all possible respect to the memory of so great and good
a man. Upon this occasion he expresses a hope, in his
Journal, that God had now given a blow to that
bigotry which had prevailed for many years: but it
broke out, ere long, with more virulence than ever.
Notwithstanding Mr. Wesley's endeavours to guard
his followers against the Antinomian errors, the
stream of Methodism had set in that way. It is a
course which enthusiasm naturally takes, wherever,
from a blind spirit of antipathy to the Romanists,
solifidianism is preached. To correct this perilous
tendency, (for, of all doctrinal errors, there is none of
238 BREACH WITH THE CALVINISTS.
which the practical consequences are so pernicious,)
Wesley said, in the Conference of 1771, “ Take heed
to your doctrine ! we have leaned too much toward
Calvinism. 1. With regard to man's faithfulness: Our
Lord himself taught us to use the expression, and We
ought never to be ashamed of it. , 2. With regard to
working for life: this also the Lord has expressly com-
manded us. Labour, soyoºsós, literally, work for the
meat that endureth to everlasting life. 3. We have re-
ceived it as a maxim, that a man is to do nothing in
order to justification. Nothing can be more false.
Whoever desires to find favour with God, should cease
from evil, and learn to do well. Whoever repents,
should do works meet for repentance. And if this is
not in order to find favour, what does he do them
for? Is not this salvation by works Not by the
merit of works, but by works as a condition. What
have we then been disputing about for these thirty
years? I am afraid, about words. As to merit itself,
of which we have been so dreadfully afraid, we are
rewarded according to our works, yea, because of our
works. How does this differ from for the sake of our
works 2 And how differs this from secundum merita
operum, as our works deserve? Can you split this
hair? I doubt I cannot. Does not talking of a justi-
fied or sanctified State tend to mislead men P – almost
naturally leading them to trust in what was done in
one moment; whereas we are every hour, and every
moment, pleasing or displeasing to God, according to
our works ; according to the whole of our inward tem-
pers, and our outward behaviour.” -
This language — candid, frank, and reasonable as it
is—in every way honourable to Mr. Wesley, shocked
the high-flying Calvinists. The alarm was taken at
Trevecca; and, notwithstanding the specious liberality
which had been professed, Lady Huntingdon declared,
that whoever did not fully disavow these minutes,
MR. FLETCHER. 239
must quit the college. The students and masters were
called upon to deliver their sentiments in writing,
without reserve. The superintendent, in so doing,
explained, vindicated, and approved the doctrine of
Mr. Wesley, though he considered the wording as un-
guarded, and not sufficiently explicit; and he resigned
his appointment accordingly, wishing that the Countess
might find a minister to preside there less insufficient
than himself, and more willing to go certain lengths
in party spirit. -
JEAN GUILLAUME DE LA FLECHERE, who thus with-
drew from Trevecca, was a man of rare talents, and
rarer virtue. No age or country has ever produced a
man of more fervent piety, or more perfect charity; no
church has ever possessed a more apostolic minister.
He was born at Nyon, in the Pays de Vaud, of a
respectable Bernese family, descended from a noble
house in Savoy. Having been educated for the
ministry at Geneva, he found himself unable to sub-
scribe to the doctrine of predestination, and resolved
to seek preferment as a soldier of fortune. Accor-
dingly he went to Lisbon, obtained a commission in
the Portuguese service, and was ordered to Brazil.
A lucky accident, which confined him to his bed when
the ship sailed, saved him from a situation where his
fine intellect would have been lost, and his philan-
thropic piety would have had no room to display
itself. He left Portugal for the prospect of active
service in the Low Countries; and that prospect also
being disappointed by peace, he came over to England,
improved himself in the language, and became tutor
in the family of Mr. Hill, of Fern Hall in Shropshire.
The love of God and of man abounded in his heart;
and finding among the Methodists that sympathy
which he desired, he joined them, and for a time took
to ascetic courses, of which he afterwards acknow-
240 MR. FLETCHER.
ledged the error. He lived on vegetables, and for
some time on milk and water, and bread: he sat up
two whole nights in every week, for the purpose of
praying, and reading and meditating on religious
things; and on the other nights never allowed
himself to sleep, as long as he could keep his attention
to the book before him. At length, by the advice of
his friends, Mr. Hill, and of Mr. Wesley, whom he
consulted, he took orders in the English Church.
The ordination took place in the Chapel Royal, St.
James's, and, as soon as it was over, he went to the
Methodist Chapel in West-street, where he assisted
in administering the Lord's Supper. Wesley had
never received so seasonable an assistance. “How
wonderful are the ways of God!” said he, in his
Journal. When my bodily strength failed, and none
in England were able and willing to assist me, He sent
me help from the mountains of Switzerland, and an
help meet for me in every respect. Where could I
have found such another l’ It proved a more efficient
and important help than Mr. Wesley could then have
anticipated. g
Mr. Fletcher (for so he now called himself, being
completely anglicised,) incurred some displeasure by
the decided manner in which he connected himself
with the Methodists. Neither his talents nor his vir-
tues were yet understood beyond the circle of his
friends. By Mr. Hill's means, however, he was pre-
sented to the vicarage of Madely, in Shropshire, about
three years after his ordination. It is a populous vil-
lage, in which there were extensive collieries and iron-
works; and the character of the inhabitants was, in
consequence, what, to the reproach and curse of Eng-
land, it generally is, wherever mines or manufactures
of any kind have brought together a crowded popula-
tion. Mr. Fletcher had at one time officiated there
as curate: he now entered upon his duty with zeal
MR. FLETCHER. 241
proportioned to the arduous nature of the service
which he had pledged himself to perform. That zeal
made him equally disregardful of appearances and of
danger. The whole rents of his small patrimonial
estate in the Pays de Vaud were set apart for charitable
uses, and he drew so liberally from his other funds for
the same purpose, that his furniture and wardrobe
were not spared. Because some of his remoter pa-
rishioners excused themselves for not attending the
morning service, by pleading that they did not awake
early enough to get their families ready, for some
months he set out every Sunday at five o'clock, with
a bell in his hand, and went round the most distant
parts of the parish, to call up the people. And
wherever hearers could be collected in the surrounding
country, within ten or fifteen miles, thither he went
to preach to them on week days, though he seldom
got home before one or two in the morning. At first,
the rabble of his parishioners resented the manner in
which he ventured to reprove and exhort them in the
midst of their lewd revels and riotous meetings; for
he would frequently burst in upon them, without any
fear of the consequence to himself. The publicans and
maltmen were his especial enemies. A mob of colliers,
who were one day baiting a bull, determined to pull
him off his horse as he went to preach, set the dogs
upon him, and, in their own phrase, bait the parson;
but the bull broke loose, and dispersed them before
he arrived. In spite, however, of the opposition which
his eccentricities excited, not from the ignorant only,
but from some of the neighbouring clergy and magis-
trates, he won upon the people, rude and brutal as
they were, by the invincible benevolence which was
manifested in his whole manner of life; till at length
his church, which at first had been so scantily attended
that he was discouraged as well as mortified by the
smallness of the congregation, began to overflow.
WOL. II. R.
242 FINAL BREACH BETWEEN
Such was the person who, without any emolument,
had undertaken the charge of superintending, in Oc-
casional visits, the college at Trevecca, and who with-
drew from that charge when Lady Huntingdon called
upon all persons in that seminary to disavow the
doctrines of Mr. Wesley's minutes, or leave the place.
He had at that time no intention or apprehension of
taking any farther part in the dispute. Shortly after-
wards the Honourable Walter Shirley, one of her
ladyship's chaplains, and of the Calvinistic clergy
who had formed a party under her patronage, sent
forth a circular letter, stating, that whereas Mr.
Wesley's next Conference was to be held at Bristol, it
was proposed by Lady Huntingdon, and many other
Christian friends, to have a meeting in that city at the
same time, of such principal persons, both clergy and
laity, who disapproved of the obnoxious minutes; and
as the doctrines therein avowed were thought injuri-
ous to the very fundamental principles of Christianity,
it was farther proposed, that these persons should go
in a body to the Conference, and insist upon a formal
recantation of the said minutes; and in case of a
refusal, sign and publish their protest against them.
“Your presence, Sir,” the letter proceeded, “is parti-
cularly requested; but if it should not suit your
convenience to be there, it is desired that you will
transmit your sentiments on the subject to such
person as you think proper to produce them. It is
submitted to you, whether it would not be right, in
the opposition to be made to such a dreadful heresy,
to recommend it to as many of your Christian friends,
as well of the Dissenters as of the Established Church,
as you can prevail on to be there, the cause being of
so public a nature.” Lodgings were to be provided for
the persons who attended.
The proceedings were not so furious as might have
been expected from a declaration of war like this.
WESLEY AND THE CALVINISTS. 243
The heat of the Calvinistic party seemed to have spent
itself in the first explosion. Mr. Wesley was truly a
man of peace; and when the Conference and the anti-
council met, the result, unlike that of most other
pitched disputations upon points of theology, was
something like an accommodation. The meeting was
managed with perfect temper on both sides, and with
a conciliatory spirit on the part of Shirley himself; a
man whose intentions were better than his judgement.
Mr. Wesley and the Conference declared, that, in
framing the obnoxious minutes, no such meaning was
intended as was imputed to them. “We abhor,” they
said, “the doctrine of justification by works, as a
most perilous and abominable doctrine; and as the
minutes are not sufficiently guarded in the way they
are expressed, we hereby solemnly declare, in the
sight of God, that we have no trust or confidence but
in the alone merits of our Lord Jesus Christ, for justi-
fication or salvation, either in life, death, or the day
of judgement ; and though no one is a real Christian
believer (and consequently cannot be saved) who doth
not good works, where there is time and opportunity,
yet our works have no part in meriting or purchasing
our justification, either in whole or in part.” Mr.
Shirley declared himself satisfied with this declaration,
and the interview was concluded with prayer, and
professions of peace and love.
These were but fallacious appearances: the old
question had been mooted, and the dispute broke out
with greater violence than ever.” On the part of the
* The sort of recantation which was made in this declaration gave
occasion to the following verses by one of the hostile party :
Whereas the religion and fate of three nations
Depend on the importance of our conversations ;
Whereas some objections are thrown in our way,
And words have been construed to mean what they say ;
Be it known, from henceforth, to each friend and each brother,
Whene'er we say one thing, we mean quite another.
R 2
244 FINAL BREACH BETWEEN
Arminians it was carried on by Walter Sellon, who
was originally a baker, then one of Wesley's lay
preachers, and had afterwards, by means of Lady
Huntingdon's influence, obtained orders; by Thomas
Olivers, who, like a sturdy and honest Welshman as
he was, refused, at the Conference, to subscribe the
declaration ; and by Mr. Fletcher. On the part of
the Calvinists, the most conspicuous writers were the
brothers Richard (afterwards Sir Richard) and Rowland
Hill, and Augustus Montague Toplady, vicar of Broad
Hembury in Devonshire. Never were any writings
more thoroughly saturated with the essential acid of
Calvinism than those of the predestinarian champions.
It would scarcely be credible that three persons, of
good birth and education, and of unquestionable good-
ness and piety, should have carried on controversy in
so vile a manner, and with so detestable a spirit, — if
the hatred of theologians had not, unhappily, become
proverbial. Berridge of Everton also, who was buffoon
as well as fanatic, engaged on their side; and even
Harvey's nature was so far soured by his opinions,
that he wrote in an acrimonious style against Mr.
Wesley, whose real piety he knew, and whom he had
once regarded as his spiritual father. * -
The ever-memorable Toplady, as his admirers call
him, and who, they say, “stands paramount in the ple-
nitude of dignity above most of his contemporaries,”
was bred at Westminster, and, according to his own
account, converted at the age of sixteen, by the sermon
of an ignorant lay preacher, in a barn in Ireland. He
was an injudicious man, hasty in forming conclusions,
and intemperate in advancing them : but his intellect
was quick and lively, and his manner of writing,
though coarse, was always vigorous, and sometimes
fortunate. A little before that Conference which
brought out the whole Calvinistic force against Wesley,
Mr. Toplady published a Treatise upon absolute
WESLEY AND THE CALVINISTs. 245
Predestination, chiefly translated from the Latin of
Zanchius. Mr. Wesley set forth an analysis of this
treatise, for the purpose of exposing its monstrous
doctrine, and concluded in these words: “The sum of
all this: —One in twenty (suppose) of mankind are
elected; nineteen in twenty are reprobated. The elect
shall be saved, do what they will; the reprobate shall
be damned, do what they can. Reader, believe this,
or be damned. Witness my hand, A T .”
Toplady denied the consequences, and accused Mr.
Wesley of intending to palm the paragraph on the
world as his. “In almost any other case,” said he,
“a similar forgery would transmit the criminal to
Virginia or Maryland, if not to Tyburn. The satanic
guilt of the person who could excogitate and publish
to the world a position like that, baffles all power of
description, and is only to be exceeded (if exceedable)
by the Satanic shamelessness which dares to lay the
black position at the door of other men.”
Most certainly Mr. Wesley had no intention that
this passage should pass for Mr. Toplady's writing.
He gave it as the sum of his doctrine; and, stripping
that doctrine of all disguise, exposed it thus in its
naked monstrosity. After vindicating himself by
stating this, he left Olivers to carry on the contest
with his incensed antagonist. This provoked Toplady
the more. “Let Mr. Wesley,” said he, “fight his
own battles. I am as ready as ever to meet him,
with the sling of reason and the stone of God’s word
in my hand. But let him not fight by proxy; let his
cobblers keep to their stalls; let his tinkers mend their
brazen vessels; let his barbers confine themselves to
their blocks and basins; let his blacksmiths blow
more suitable coals than those of nice controversy;
every man in his own order.” And, because Olivers
had been a shoemaker, he attacked him on that score
R 3
246 FINAL BREACH BETWEEN
with abusive ridicule, both in prose and in rhyme.*
But when he spoke of Wesley himself, and Wesley's
doctrines, it was with a bitterer temper. The very titles
which he affixed to his writings were in the manner
of Martin Marprelate, – “More Work for Mr. John
Wesley;” – “An Old Fox tarred and feathered:” it
seemed as if he had imbibed the spirit of sectarian
Scurrility from the truculent libellers of the puritanical
age, with whom he sympathised almost as much in
opinions as in temper. Blunders and blasphemies, he
said, were two species of commodities in which Mr.
* He makes Wesley speak of him thus, in a doggerel dialogue:
I’ve Thomas Oliver, the cobler,
(No stall in England holds a nobler,)
A wight of talents universal,
Whereof I’ll give a brief rehearsal :
He wields, beyond most other men,
His awl, his razor, and his pen ;
My beard he shaves, repairs my shoe,
And writes my panegyric too ;
He, with one brandish of his quill,
Can knock down Toplady and Hill ;
With equal ease, whene'er there's need,
Can darn my stockings and my creed ;
Can drive a nail, or ply the needle,
Hem handkerchief, and scrape the fiddle !
Chop logic as an ass chews thistle,
More skilfully than you can whistle ;
And then, when he philosophises,
No son of Crispin half so wise is.
Of all my ragged regiment,
This cobler gives me most content:
My forgeries and faith's defender,
My barber, champion, and shoe-mender.
In private, however, Toplady did justice to this antagonist. After
a chance interview with him, which, for its good humour, was credit-
able to both parties, he says, to a correspondent, “To say the truth,
I am glad I saw Mr. Olivers, for he appears to be a person of stronger
sense, and better behaviour, than I imagined. Had his understanding
been cultivated by a liberal education, I believe he would have made
some figure in life.” I have never seen Oliver's pamphlet, but he had
the right side of the argument; and if he had not maintained his cause
with respectable ability, his treatise would not have been sanctioned (on
such an occasion) by Wesley, and praised by Fletcher.
WESLEY AND THE CALVINISTS. 247
Wesley had driven a larger traffic than any other
blunder-merchant this country had produced. Con-
sidered as a reasoner, he called him one of the most
contemptible writers that ever set pen to paper.
And, “abstracted from all warmth, and from all pre-
judices,” says he, “I believe him to be the most
rancorous hater of the Gospel system that ever ap-
peared in this island.” The same degree of coolness
and impartiality appeared when he spoke of the doc-
trines which he opposed. He insisted that Socinus
and Arminius were the two necessary supporters of a
free-willer's coat of arms; “for,” said he, in his
vigorous manner, “Arminianism is the head, and
Socinianism the tail, of one and the selfsame serpent;
and, when the head works itself in, it will soon draw
the tail after it.” A tract of Wesley's, in which the
fatal doctrine of Necessity is controverted and ex-
posed, he calls “the famous Moorfields powder,
whose chief ingredients are an equal portion of gross
Heathenism, Pelagianism, Mahometanism, Popery,
Manichæism, Ranterism, and Antinomianism, culled,
dried, and pulverised, and mingled with as much
palpable Atheism as you can scrape together.” And
he asserted, and attempted to prove, that Arminianism
and Atheism came to the same thing. A more unfair
reasoner has seldom entered the lists of theological
controversy; and yet he was not so uncharitable as his
writings, nor by any means so bad as his opinions
might easily have made him. He much questioned
whether an Arminian could go to heaven; and, of
course, must have supposed that Wesley, as the arch-
Arminian of the age, bore about him the stamp of
reprobation. Nevertheless, in one of his letters, he
says, “God is witness how earnestly I wish it may
consist with the Divine will to touch the heart, and
open the eyes, of that unhappy man! I hold it as
much my duty to pray for his conversion, as to ex-
R 4
248 - FINAL BREACH BETWEEN
pose the futility of his railings against the truths of
the Gospel.” And, upon a report of Wesley's death,
he would have stopped the publication of one of his
bitter diatribes, for the purpose of expunging what-
ever reflected with asperity upon the dead. There
was no affectation in this: the letters in which these
redeeming feelings appear, were not intended, or ex-
pected, to go abroad into the world. The wise and
gentle Tillotson has observed, that we shall have two
wonders in heaven: the one, how many come to be
absent, whom we expected to find there; the other,
how many are there, whom we had no hope of
meeting. -
Toplady said of Mr. Fletcher's works, that, in the
very few pages which he had perused, the serious
passages were dulness double-condensed, and the
lighter passages impudence double-distilled: “so
hardened was " his own “front,” to use one of his
own expressions, “and so thoroughly was he drenched
in the petrifying water of a party.” If ever true
Christian charity was manifested in polemical writing,
it was by Fletcher of Madely. Even theological
controversy never in the slightest degree irritated
his heavenly temper. On sending the manuscript of
his first “Check to Antinomianism” to a friend, much
younger than himself, he says, “I beg, as upon my
bended knees, you would revise and correct it, and
take off quod durius Sonat in point of works, reproof,
and style. I have followed my light, which is but
that of Smoking flax; put yours to rhine. I am
charged hereabouts with scattering firebrands, ar-
rows, and death. Quench some of my brands; blunt
some of my arrows; and take off all my deaths, ex-
cept that which I design for Antinomianism.” “For
the sake of candour,” he says, in One of his prefaces,
“of truth, of peace, — for the reader's sake, and,
above all, for the sake of Christ, and the honour of
WESLEY AND THE CALVINISTs. 249
Christianity, whoever ye are that shall next enter the
lists against us, do not wiredraw the controversy, by
uncharitably attacking our persons, and absurdly
judging our spirits, instead of weighing our argu-
ments, and considering the Scriptures which we pro-
duce; nor pass over fifty solid reasons, and a hundred
plain passages, to cavil about non-essentials, and to
lay the stress of your answer upon mistakes which
do not affect the strength of the cause, and which we
are ready to correct as soon as they shall be pointed
out. I take the Searcher of Hearts, and my judicious,
unprejudiced readers to witness, that, through the
whole of this controversy, far from concealing the
most plausible objections, or avoiding the strongest
arguments which are or may be advanced against our
reconciling doctrine, I have carefully searched them
out, and endeavoured to encounter them as openly as
David did Goliah. Had our opponents followed this
method, I doubt not but the controversy would have
ended, long ago, in the destruction of our prejudices,
and in the rectifying of our mistakes. Oh! if we
preferred the unspeakable pleasure of finding out the
truth, to the pitiful honour of pleasing a party, or of
vindicating our own mistakes, how soon would the
useful fan of scriptural, logical, and brotherly contro-
versy purge the floor of the Church 1 – how soon
would the light of truth, and the flame of love, burn
the chaff of error, and the thorns of prejudice, with
fire unquenchable !”
In such a temper did this saintly man address
himself to the work of controversy; and he carried it
on with correspondent candour, and with distinguished
ability. His manner is diffuse, and the florid parts,
and the unction, betray their French origin; but the
reasoning is acute and clear; the spirit of his writings
is beautiful, and he was master of the subject in all
its bearings. His great object was to conciliate the
250 FINAL BREACH BETWEEN
two parties, and to draw the line between the solifidian
and Pelagian errors. For this purpose he composed
a treatise, which he called an “Equal Check to Pha-
risaism and Antinomianism; or, Scripture Scales to
weigh the Gold of Gospel Truth, and to balance a
Multitude of opposite Scriptures.” Herein he brought
together, side by side, the opposite texts, and showed
how they qualified each other: the opinion which he
inferred seems to correspond more nearly with that of
Baxter than of any other divine. He traced, histori-
cally, the growth of both the extremes against which
he contended. Luther, being an Augustinian monk,
brought with him, from his convent, the favourite
opinions of Augustine, to which he became the more
attached, because of the value which the Romanists
affixed to their superstitious works, and the fooleries
and abominations which had sprung from this cause.*
Most of the Reformers, and more especially Calvin,
took the same ground. The Jesuits, seeing their
error, inclined the Romish Church to the opposite ex-
treme; and after a while, Jansenius formed a Cal-
vinistic party among the Catholics, while Arminius
tempered the doctrine of the reformed churches.
Antinomianism was the legitimate consequence on the
one part, and Mr. Fletcher thought that the English
clergy were tending toward Pelagianism on the other.
His great object was to trim the balance, and above
all, to promote Christian charity and Christian union.
“My regard for unity,” said he, “recovers my droop-
ing spirits, and adds new strength to my wasted
body (he was believed, at that time, to be in the last
stage of a consumption); I stop at the brink of the
* Thus the old author of Neonomianism Unmasked, places “ the
Calvinian Society in Gracious-street, at the sign of the Geneva Arms,
just opposite to the sign of Cardinal Bellarmine's Head, at the foot of
the bridge that crosses Reformation River, that divides between the
Protestant and Popish cantons.” -
WESLEY AND THE CALVINISTs. 251
grave, over which I bend; and as the blood oozing
from my decayed lungs does not permit me vocally to
address my contending brethren, by means of my pen
I will ask them, if they can properly receive the holy
communion, while they wilfully remain in disunion
with their brethren, from whom controversy has
needlessly parted them l’” He was then about to leave
England, for what appeared to be a forlorn hope of
deriving benefit from his native air; but, before his
departure, he expressed a desire of seeing those
persons with whom he had been engaged in this con-
troversy, that, “all doctrinal differences apart, he
might testify his sincere regret for having given them
the least displeasure, and received from them some
condescending assurance of reconciliation and good
will. All of them had not generosity enough to ac-
cept the invitation: they who did, were edified, as
well as affected, by the interview; and some of them,
who had had no personal acquaintance with him be-
fore, “expressed the highest satisfaction,” says his
biographer, “at being introduced to the company of
one whose air and countenance bespoke him fitted
rather for the society of angels than the conversation
of men.” Upon the score of controversial offences,
few men have ever had so little need to ask for-
giveness.
When Mr. Fletcher offended his antagonists, it was
not by any personalities, or the slightest breathing
of a malicious spirit, but by the ironical manner in
which he displayed the real nature of their monstrous
doctrine. For his talents were of the quick mercurial
kind; his fancy was always active, and he might
have held no inconsiderable rank, both as a humorous
and as an empassioned writer, if he had not confined
himself wholly to devotional subjects. But his happy
illustrations had the effect of provoking his opponents.
Mr. Wesley also, by the unanswerable manner in which
252 FINAL BREACH BETWEEN
he treated the Calvinistic question, drew upon himself
the fierce resentment of a host of enemies. They were
confounded; but they would not be convinced; and
they assailed him with a degree of rancorous hatred,
which, even in theological controversy, has never been
exceeded. “He was as weak as he was vicious,” they
said: “he was like a monkey, an eel, or a squirrel,
perpetually twisting and twining all manner of ways.
There was little probity, or common honesty, disco-
verable in that man — that Arminian priest: he
was incapable of appreciating real merit; and his
blasphemous productions were horror to the soul, and
torture to the ear. And for his doctrine — the
cursed doctrine of free-will, it was the most God-
dishonouring and soul-distressing doctrine of the day;
it was one of the prominent features of the Beast; it
was the enemy of God, and the offspring of the wicked
one; the insolent brat of hell. Arminianism was the
spiritual pestilence which had given the Protestant
churches the plague: like a mortal scorpion, it carries
a sting in its tail, that affects with stupefaction, in-
sensibility, and death, all whom it strikes.”
The unforgivable offence which drew upon Wesley
and his doctrine this sort of obloquy, with which
volumes have been filled, was the sermon upon Free
Grace, that had been the occasion of the breach with
Whitefield. It is one of the most able and eloquent
of all his discourses; a triumphant specimen of em-
passioned argument. “Call it by whatever name you
please,” said he, attacking the Calvinistic doctrine,
“Election, Preterition, Predestination, or Repro-
bation, it comes to the same thing. The sense is
plainly this: By virtue of an eternal, unchangeable,
irresistible decree of God, one part of mankind are
infallibly saved, and the rest infallibly damned; it
being impossible that any of the former should be
damned, or that any of the latter should be saved.”
WESLEY AND THE CALVINISTS, 253
He proceeded to show, that it made all preaching
vain”, as needless to the elect, and useless to the
reprobate; and therefore that it could not be a
doctrine of God, because it makes void his ordinance :
that it tended to produce spiritual pride in some,
absolute despair in others, and to destroy our zeal for
good works: that it made revelation contradictory
and useless; and that it was full of blasphemy, -
“of such blasphemy,” said he, “as I should dread to
mention, but that the honour of our gracious God,
and the cause of truth, will not suffer me to be silent.
In the cause of God,” he pursues, “and from a sincere
concern for the glory of his great name, I will men-
tion a few of the horrible blasphemies contained in
this horrible doctrine. But first I must warn every
one of you that hears, as ye will answer it at the great
day, not to charge me, as some have done, with
blaspheming, because I mention the blasphemy of
others. And the more you are grieved with them that
do thus blaspheme, see that ye ‘confirm your love
towards them' the more, and that your heart's desire,
and continual prayer to God, be, ‘Father, forgive
them, for they know not what they do!”
“This premised, let it be observed, that this
doctrine represents our blessed Lord, “Jesus Christ,
the righteous, the only-begotten son of the Father,
full of grace and truth,’ as an hypocrite, a deceiver
of the people, a man void of common sincerity. For
it cannot be denied that he every where speaks as if
he were willing that all men should be saved; there-
fore, to say he was not willing that all men should be
* But why so P If the end be necessary, must not the means be so
likewise P Does God think by abstractions, generalisations, and logical
antitheses, as we do P (Yet even we, not conclusively—except where
we have taken the mechanism of our finite understanding (ppóvmpa
oapkóc) as our master, instead of using it as our instrument.) In
the eye of God, are not all things means, in relation to himself, and all
things ends, relatively to the agent and creature ? — S. T. C.
254 FINAL BREACH BETWEEN
saved, is to represent him as a mere hypocrite and
dissembler. It cannot be denied, that the gracious
words which came out of his mouth are full of
invitations to all sinners: to say, then, He did not
Žntend to save all sinners, is to represent him as a
gross deceiver of the people. You cannot deny that
he says, “Come unto me, all ye that are weary and
heavy laden l’ If, then, you say He calls those that
cannot come, those whom he knows to be unable to
come, those whom he can make able to come, but will
not, how is it possible to describe greater insincerity ?
You represent him as mocking his helpless creatures,
by offering what he never intends to give. You
describe him as saying one thing, and meaning an-
other; as pretending the love which he had not. Him,
in whose mouth was no guile, you make full of deceit,
void of common sincerity: then, especially when
drawing nigh the city, he wept over it, and said, ‘O
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets,
, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often
would I have gathered thy children together, and ye
would not l’ (ºfféAngo, xoi oix ºffexía-ots.) Now, if
you say they would, but he would not, you represent him
(which who could hear !) as weeping crocodile tears
over the prey which he had doomed to destruction
“Such blasphemy this, as, one would think, might
make the ears of a Christian to tingle! But there is
yet more behind; for, just as it honours the Son, so
doth this doctrine honour the Father. It destroys
all his attributes at once : it overturns both his
justice, mercy, and truth. Yes, it represents the
Most Holy God as worse than the devil; as more
false, more cruel, and more unjust. More false,
because the devil, liar as he is, hath never said he
willeth all mankind to be saved : more unjust, because
the devil cannot, if he would, be guilty of such
injustice as you ascribe to God, when you say, that
*A
WESLEY AND THE CALVINISTS. 255
God condemned millions of souls to everlasting fire,
prepared for the devil and his angels, for continuing
in sin, which, for want of that grace he will not give
them, they cannot avoid; and more cruel, because
that unhappy spirit ‘seeketh rest, and findeth none,’
so that his own restless misery is a kind of temptation
to him to tempt others. But God “resteth in his
high and holy place;” so that to suppose him, out of
his mere motion, of his pure will and pleasure, happy
as he is, to doom his creatures, whether they will or
not, to endless misery, is to impute such cruelty to
him, as we cannot impute even to the great enemy of
God and man. It is to represent the Most High God
(he that hath ears to hear, let him hear !) as more
cruel, false, and unjust than the devil!
“This is the blasphemy clearly contained in the
horrible decree of Predestination. And here I fix my
foot. On this I join issue with every assertor of it.
You represent God as worse than the devil; more
false, more cruel, more unjust. But you say you will
prove it by Scripture. Hold! What will you prove
by Scripture? that God is worse than the devil? It
cannot be. Whatever that Scripture proves, it never
proves this: whatever be its true meaning, it cannot
mean this. Do you ask what is its true meaning,
then? If I say, I know not, you have gained nothing;
for there are many Scriptures, the true sense whereof
neither you nor I shall know, till death is swallowed
up in victory. But this I know, better it were to say
it had no sense at all, than to say it had such a sense
as this. It cannot mean, whatever it mean beside,
that the God of truth is a liar. Let it mean what it
will, it cannot mean that the Judge of all the world
is unjust. No Scripture can mean that God is not
love, or that his mercy is not over all his works: that
is, whatever it prove beside, no Scripture can prove
Predestination.
256 FINAL BREACH BETWEEN
“This is the blasphemy for which I abhor the
doctrine of Predestination; a doctrine, upon the
supposition of which, if one could possibly suppose
it for a moment, — call it election, reprobation, or what
you please, (for all comes to the same thing,) — one
might say to our adversary the devil, ‘Thou fool,
why dost thou roar about any longer? Thy lying in
wait for souls is as needless and useless as our
preaching. Hearest thou not, that God hath taken
thy work out of thy hands, and that he doth it more
effectually? Thou, with all thy principalities and
powers, camst only so assault that we may resist thee;
but He can irresistibly destroy both body and soul in
hell! Thou canst only entice; but His unchangeable
decree, to leave thousands of souls in death, compels
them to continue in sin till they drop into everlasting
burnings. Thou temptest; He forceth us to be
damned, for we cannot resist his will. Thou fool!
why goest thou about any longer, seeking whom thou
mayest devour? Hearest thou not that God is the
devouring lion, the destroyer of souls, the murderer
of men 2 Moloch caused only children to pass through
the fire, and that fire was soon quenched; or, the
corruptible body being consumed, its torments were
at an end; but God, thou art told, by his eternal
decree, fixed before they had done good or evil,
causes not only children of a span long, but the
parents also, to pass through the fire of hell; that
fire which never shall be quenched; and the body
which is cast thereinto, being now incorruptible and
immortal, will be ever consuming and never con-
sumed; but the Smoke of their torment, because it is
God’s good pleasure, ascendeth up for ever.’
“Oh, how would the enemy of God and man rejoice
to hear these things were so! How would he cry
aloud, and spare not How would he lift up his
voice, and say, To your tents, O Israel! Flee from the
WESLEY AND THE CALVINISTS. 257
face of this God, or ye shall utterly perish. But
whither will ye flee? Into heaven He is there.
Down to hell? He is there also. Ye cannot flee from
an omnipresent, almighty tyrant. And whether ye
flee or stay, I call Heaven, his throne, and Earth, his
footstool, to witness against you: ye shall perish, ye
shall die eternally Sing, O Hell, and rejoiceye that
are under the earth ! for God, even the mighty God,
hath spoken, and devoted to death thousands of souls,
from the rising of the sun, unto the going down
thereof. Here, O Death, is thy sting ! They shall
not, cannot escape, for the mouth of the Lord hath
spoken it. Here, O Grave, is thy victory ! Nations
yet unborn, or ever they have done good or evil, are
doomed never to see the light of life; but thou shalt
gnaw upon them for ever and ever. Let all those
morning stars sing together, who fell with Lucifer,
son of the morning ! Let all the sons of hell shout
for joy; for the decree is past, and who shall annul it 2
“Yes! the decree is past; and so it was before the
foundation of the world. But what decree ? Even
this: ‘I will set before the sons of men life and death,
blessing and cursing;' and ‘the soul that chooseth
life shall live, as the soul that chooseth death shall
die.’ This decree, whereby whom God “did foreknow,
he did predestinate,’ was indeed from everlasting:
this, whereby all who suffer Christ to make them
alive, are ‘elect according to the foreknowledge of
God,' now standeth fast, even as the moon, and the
faithful witness in heaven; and when heaven and
earth shall pass away, yet this shall not pass away,
for it is as unchangeable and eternal as the being of
God—that gave it. This decree yields the strongest
encouragement to abound in all good works, and in
all holiness; and it is a well-spring of joy, of happi-
ness also, to Our great and endless comfort. This is
worthy of God. It is every way consistent with the
VOL. II. S
258 FINAL BREACH BETWEEN
perfection of his nature. It gives us the noblest view
both of his justice, mercy, and truth. To this agrees
the whole scope of the Christian Revelation, as well
as all the parts thereof. To this Moses and all the
prophets bear witness; and our blessed Lord, and all
his apostles. Thus Moses, in the name of his Lord,
‘I call heaven and earth to record against you this
day, that I have set before you life and death, blessing
and cursing: therefore choose life, that thou and thy
seed may live.' Thus Ezekiel (to cite one prophet
for all): ‘The soul that sinneth, it shall die; the son
shall not bear (eternally) the iniquity of the father.
The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him,
and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him.’
Thus our blessed Lord: ‘If any man thirst, let him
come to me and drink ' Thus his great apostle St.
Paul : “God commandeth all men, every where, to
repent.' All men, every where; every man, in every
place, without any exception, either of place or person.
Thus St. James: ‘If any of you lack wisdom, let him
ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and
upbraideth not, and it shall be given him l’ Thus
St. Peter: ‘The Lord is not willing that any should
perish, but that all should come to repentance.’ And
thus St. John : ‘If any man sin, we have an advocate
with the Father; and he is the propitiation for our
sins; and not for ours only, but for the sins of the
whole world.’
“O hear ye this, ye that forget God! ye cannot
charge your death upon him. ‘Have I any pleasure
at all that the wicked should die º saith the Lord
God. Repent and turn from all your transgressions,
so iniquity shall not be your ruin. Cast away from
you all your transgressions, whereby ye have trans-
gressed; for why will ye die, O house of Israel? For
I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth,
saith the Lord God. Wherefore, turn yourselves,
WESLEY AND THE CALVINISTs. 259
and live ye.”—“As I live, saith the Lord God, I have
no pleasure in the death of the wicked. Turn ye,
turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die, O
house of Israel ?’”*
A history of Wesley's life would be imperfect,
unless it contained this memorable passage, – the
most remarkable and the most powerful in all his
works. It exasperated beyond measure those who,
in their own conceit, had taken out their patent of
election, and considered themselves, in Mr. Toplady's
language, (himself one of the number,) as “kings f
Żncog., travelling, disguised like pilgrims, to their
dominions above.” Even temperate Calvinists were
shocked, and have said, that Mr. Wesley’s “horrid
appeal to all the devils in hell gave a sort of infernal
tone to the controversy.” It is, indeed, in a tremen-
dous strain of eloquence, and shows with what indig-
nation the preacher, in his zeal for God, and in his
love for his fellow-creatures, regarded a doctrine so
injurious to both. In an evil hour did the restless
mind of man devise for itself the perilous question of
fatalism; and, in a more unhappy one, was it intro-
duced into Christian theology. The Fathers of our
Church perceived the danger on both sides, and en-
* The preceding page is truly excellent; but still it does not lay the axe
to the root of the mischief. Still the Predestinarian will urge — Is God’s
knowledge and prescience confined to abstract positions P — to words and
generalised synopses, blind to the individual realities from which they
were generalised? I am convinced that the only effective way of
dealing with the Predestinarians is that which I have stated in the “Aids
to Reflection,” and still more precisely and perspicuously in a MS. note in
an earlier part of this work, (viz.) by demonstrating the inherent un-
reality and inconsequence of all logic and all logical conclusion.—S.T.C.
t The expression, however, was adopted from Timothy Rogers, in
whose Discourse concerning Trouble of Mind and the Disease of
Melancholy, it thus occurs: “A Christian in this world is like a king
that travels incognito in a strange land: he is coarsely treated by men
that do not know the greatness of his birth and quality ; he travels but
in the habit of a pilgrim, and cloaked with heaviness, and hath tears for
his meat and drink.” — p. 384.
S 2
260 |FINAL BREACH BETWEEN
deavoured to keep the golden mean. “All men,”
said they, “be to be monished, and chiefly preachers,
that, in this high matter, they, looking on both sides,
so attemper and moderate themselves, that neither
they so preach the grace of God, that they take away
thereby free-will, nor, on the other side, so extol free-
will, that injury be done to the grace of God.” And
in the directions for preachers, which were set forth
in the latter years of James I., it was enjoined, “that
no preacher, of what title soever, under the degree of
a bishop, or dean at the least, should, from thence-
forth, presume to preach, in any popular auditory,
deep points of predestination, election, reprobation, or
of the universality, efficacy, resistibility, or irresisti-
bility of God's grace; but leave those themes rather
to be handled by learned men, and that moderately
and modestly, by way of use and application, rather
than by way of positive doctrines, being fitter for the
schools than for simple auditories.” The puritans
exclaimed against this prohibition, whereby, they
said, man made that the forbidden fruit, which God
appointed for the tree of life. But, upon this point,
even the popes themselves, in the plenitude of their
power, were not able to impose silence.
Wesley had once a whimsical proof of the horror
with which the high-flying Calvinists regarded him.
One afternoon, on the road from Newport Pagnel to
Northampton, “I overtook,” says he, “a serious man,
with whom I immediately fell into conversation. He
presently gave me to know what his opinions were;
therefore I said nothing to contradict them. But
that did not content him; he was quite uneasy to
know whether I held the doctrine of the decrees as
he did : but I told him, over and over, we had better
keep to practical things, lest we should be angry at
one another. And so we did for two miles, till he
caught me unawares, and dragged me into the dis-
WESLEY AND THE CALVINISTS. 261
pute before I knew where I was. He then grew
warmer and warmer, told me I was rotten at heart,
and supposed I was one of John Wesley's followers.
I told him, ‘No, I am John Wesley himself!' Upon
which,
Improvisum aspris veluti qui sentibus anguem
Pressit, - t
he would gladly have run away outright; but being
the better mounted of the two, I kept close to his side,
and endeavoured to show him his heart, till we came
into the street of Northampton.”
S 3
262
CHAPTER XXVI.
WESLEY'S CLERICAL COADJUTORS. — M.R. GRIMSHAW.
— DR. COKE. — THE GREEK BISHOP. —WESLEY'S
CREDULITY. -
A FEw years before this final and irreparable breach
with the Calvinists, Wesley had attempted to form an
open and active union between all such clergymen as
have more recently arrogated to themselves the ap-
pellation of Evangelical, or Gospel ministers. With
this hope he sent round a circular letter, to some fifty
ministers of the Church of England, wherein he pro-
posed that, leaving free disputable points of predes-
tination on one side, and perfection on the other;
laying no stress upon expressions, and binding them-
selves to no peculiar discipline; but some remaining
quite regular, others quite irregular; and others, again,
partly the one and partly the other, — they should
think and speak kindly of each other, form as it were
a defensive league, and each help the other on in his
work, and enlarge his influence by all rightful means.
If any thing more were meant by this than that each
should occasionally accommodate the others with his
pulpit, and that they should countenance his itinerant
lay preachers, the meaning is not obvious. On this
occasion, also, Mr. Wesley looked for an omen; and
relates, with evident complacency, at the end of the
letter, that one of his friends having objected to him
the impossibility of effecting such an union, he went
up stairs, and, after a little prayer, opened Kempis
on these words: Eapecta Dominum; viriliter age; mol;
diffidere; noli discedere; sed corpus et animam eapone
constanter pro gloria Dei.
WESLEY's CLERICAL COADJUTORS. 263
The greater part of the methodising clergy adhered
to Lady Huntingdon's party in the dispute. Among
those who remained attached to Mr. Wesley, Vincent
Perronet, the vicar of Shoreham, was one, who was,
either by birth or extraction, a Swiss, and who, in the
Romish Church, would have been beatified or canon-
ised, for what, in mystical language, would be called
his rapts, as well as for the uniform piety of his life.
WILLIAM GRIMSHAw, who held the perpetual curacy
of Haworth, in one of the wildest parts of the West
Riding, was a more active associate. In his uncon-
verted state, this person was certainly insane; and,
had he given utterance at that time to the monstrous
and horrible imaginations which he afterwards re-
vealed to his spiritual friends, he would deservedly
have been sent to Bedlam. His change of mind, which
was not till he had been ten years in holy orders,
was preceded by what he supposed to be a miraculous
impression upon his senses, and which may possibly
have been an electrical or galvanic effect *: and in
the course of his ministry, he was favoured with a
vision in a trance; that is to say, he mistook delirium
for reality. f. He became, however, a very zealous
parish priest; and his oddities, which procured him
the name of Mad Grimshaw, did not prevent him from
being very useful among a set of parishioners who are
said to have been as wild as the bleak barren country
* Mr. Joseph Williams, of Kidderminster, relates the fact from
Grimshaw's own testimony: “At last the time of his deliverance
came. At the house of one of his friends he lays his hand on a book,
and opens it with his face towards a pewter shelf. Instantly his face
is saluted with an uncommon flash of heat. He turns to the title-page,
and finds it to be Dr. Owen on Justification. Immediately he is sur-
prised with such another flash. He borrows the book, studies it, is led
into God’s method of justifying the ungodly, hath a new heart given
him, and now, behold, he prayeth !” -
f The case seems to have been an apoplectic affection of the slightest
kind: the detail may be seen in his life by Mr. Myles (p. 14.), as given
by himself to Mr. Williams of Kidderminster. A more remarkable case
of the same kind is noticed in the Quarterly Review, vol. X. pp. 117. 118.
S 4
264 WESLEY'S CLERICAL COADJUTORS.
which they inhabited, and to have had little more
sense of religion than their cattle.
The parish contained four hamlets, in each of which
he made it a rule to preach three times a month,
partly for the sake of the old and infirm, but chiefly
for those who scarcely ever attended the church, be-
cause of the distance. As he found that people were
willing to hear him, he extended his preaching into his
neighbours' parishes, without troubling himself to ask
the consent of the minister, or caring whether he
liked it or not. In this way he established two circuits
of his own, which he went round every fortnight: in
the more populous, he preached from four-and-twenty
to thirty times in the week; and, in the other, about half
as often ; wherefore he called this his idle week. While
he was at home, he had a morning meeting for prayer
and exhortation at his own house, at five o'clock in
the summer, and at six in winter. At church he
would stop in the midst of the prayers, if he saw any
person inattentive, and rebuke the offender; and,
while the psalms were singing before sermon, he
would go out to see if any persons were idling in
the churchyard, or in the street, or in the alehouses,
and drive as many as he could find into the church
before him. These were not the only means which he
used for bringing his parishioners into order. Having
taken up the dismal puritanical notion, that it is sinful
to walk in the fields for recreation on the Sabbath
day, he would set out himself, in order to reprove
such persons as he detected in the fact. This odd
humour led him also, like the Caliph Haroun Alras-
chid, in the Arabian Tales, to go out in disguise, and
see in what manner his instructions were observed,
and how far the people were in reality what they
made themselves appear to him. Thus he went to the
door of a great professor of charity, and begged a
night's lodging, in the character of a poor man, and
MR. GRIMSHAW. 265
was turned away with abuse. And he teased a pur-
blind woman, by touching her repeatedly with a stick,
like a mischievous boy, till, taking him for one, and
finding threats insufficient, she gave her tongue the
reins, and began to swear. Neither of these were
fair trials: but discretion was no part of his character.
Such, however, was the effect which he produced by
his zeal, his vigilance, and his real worth, that a man
who, being on his way for a midwife one Sunday,
wanted his horse shod in the village, could not prevail
upon the blacksmith to do the job, till they had gone
together to Mr. Grimshaw, and he had granted per-
mission, being satisfied of the necessity of the case.
And it was believed, long after his death, that he had
put a stop to the races at Haworth by his prayers,
because, when he had often and vainly attempted to
dissuade the people from subscribing and promoting
these meetings, for the benefit of the publicans, he
prayed at length that the Lord would be pleased to
put a stop to the evil proceedings in his own way, a
heavy rain during the whole three days spoiled the
sport, and, after that time, the mischievous custom
was not revived. -
Grimshaw entered entirely into Mr. Wesley's views,
acted as assistant in the circuit wherein he resided,
and attended the Conference every third year, when
it was held at Leeds. When Whitefield or Wesley
came to visit him, a scaffold was erected for them in
the churchyard, the church not being large enough
to hold the concourse that assembled. Prayers, there-
fore, were read in the church, the preaching was in
the open air, and the sacrament was afterwards ad-
ministered to successive congregations, one church-full
after another. Whitefield happened, in one of his
sermons, to speak as if he believed his hearers had pro-
fited much by the exertions of the faithful pastor who
had so long laboured among them: but Grimshaw
266 WESLEY'S CLERICAL COADJUTORS.
stood up, and interrupted him immediately, saying,
with a loud voice, “Oh, Sir, for God's sake do not
speak so | I pray you, do not flatter them: I fear the
greater part of them are going to hell with their eyes
open.” His admiration of the itinerants was very
great: his house was their home; they preached in his
kitchen, and he always gave notice at church when
this was to be; and, that their flock might not be scat-
tered after his death, when a more regular and less
zealous minister should succeed him, he built a chapel
and dwelling-house at his own expense, and settled it
upon the Methodist plan. He not only received the
preachers as his guests, but as many visitors as his
house would hold; giving up his own bed, and sleep-
ing, unknown to them, in the hayloft. No office
appeared to him too humble on such occasions — no
mark of respect too great for a successful preacher of
the Gospel. He was once found cleaning the boots of
an itinerant: once he embraced a preacher after his
sermon, and said, “The Lord bless thee, Ben ; this is
worth a hundred of my sermons !” and he fell down
before another, saying, he was not worthy to stand in
his presence. The only son of this singular man was
educated at Kingswood, and became a drunkard,
“notwithstanding he had been favoured with a reli-
gious education,” says his father's biographer, “and
had been prayed for by some of the holiest men in the
land.” The severe and injudicious system under which
he had suffered at school, and the eccentricities which
he had seen at home, may easily explain the wonder.
The poor fellow, however, had a sense of his own
worthlessness and degeneracy; and when he was riding
home, in a state of intoxication, would sometimes say
to his horse, the one which Grimshaw had ridden upon
his circuits, “Once thou carried a saint, but now thou
carriest a devil.” Disease and strong pain, the bitter
consequences of his course of life, brought him to re-
DR. COKE. - 267
pentance and to the grave; and some of his last words
were, “What will my father say, when he sees that I
am got to heaven l’’ -
Of the few clergymen who entered into Mr. Wesley's
views, and heartily co-operated with him, Mr. Grim-
shaw was the most eccentric ; Mr. Fletcher the most
remarkable for intellectual powers: the one who
entered most entirely into the affairs of the Society
was THOMAS CORE. This person, who held so dis-
tinguished a place among the Methodists, and by
whose unwearied zeal, and indefatigable exertions,
that spirit which Mr. Wesley had kindled in England
was extended to the remotest parts of the world, was
born at Brecknock, in the year 1747, the only child
of respectable and wealthy parents. The father died
during his childhood, and the youth, in his seven-
teenth year, was entered as a gentleman commoner
at Jesus College, Oxford. He escaped from the
university with fewer vices than in those days were
generally contracted there; but he brought away a
taint of that philosophistical infidelity which was then
beginning to infect half-learned men. The works of
Bishop Sherlock reclaimed him: he entered into holy
orders, and being in expectation of some considerable
preferment, took out his degree of doctor of laws.
The disappointment which he experienced from cer-
tain persons in power, to whom he had looked as
patrons, was of little consequence to him, being
possessed of a fair patrimony. He accepted the
curacy of South Petherton, in Somersetshire, and
entered upon the duties of his office with more than
ordinary zeal. His preaching soon filled the church:
more room was wanting for the congregation; and
as the vestry would not be persuaded to erect a
gallery, he built one at his own expense. This, and
the style of his discourses, raised a suspicion that he
was inclined to Methodism. The growing inclination
268 WESLEY's CLERICAL COADJUTORs.
was strengthened by conversation with Maxfield, who
happened then to be residing in the neighbourhood,
and confirmed by the perusal of Alleine's Alarum to
the Unconverted.” He now preached extempora-
neously, established evening lectures, and introduced
hymns into the Church; but, by thus going on faster
than the parishioners were prepared to follow, he
excited a strong spirit of opposition; complaints
against him were preferred to the bishop, and to the
rector: the former merely admonished him; by the
latter he was dismissed, in a manner which seems to
have been studiously disrespectful, before the people
publicly, on the Sabbath day: and his enemies had
the indecency to chime him out of the church. These
insults roused his Welsh blood; and he determined,
with more spirit than prudence, to take his stand near
the church on the two following Sundays, and preach
to the people when they came out, for the purpose of
vindicating himself, gratifying his adherents, and ex-
horting his opponents to repentance. These, who
were probably the more numerous, were so provoked
at this, that they collected stones, for the purpose of
pelting him, on his second exhibition ; and the Doctor
would hardly have escaped without some serious
injury, if a young lady and her brother, whom the
people knew and respected, had not placed themselves
one on each side of him. He now took the earliest
opportunity of being introduced to Wesley. The
latter soon came into Somersetshire in his rounds,
and thus notices the meeting in his Journal: “Here
* “ A book which multitudes will have cause for ever to be thank-
ful for,” says Calamy. No book in the English tongue (the Bible ex-
cepted) can equal it for the number that hath been dispersed; for there
have been 20,000 of them printed and sold under the title of the Call,
or Alarum to the Unconverted, in 8vo. or 12mo. ; and 50,000 of the
same book have been sold under the title of the Sure Guide to Heaven,
30,000 of which were at one impression.”— Account of the Ejected
Ministers, vol. ii. p. 577. - -
IDR, COKE. 269
I found a clergyman, Dr. Coke, late a gentleman
commoner of Jesus College in Oxford, who came
twenty miles on purpose to meet me. I had much
conversation with him; and an union then began,
which I trust shall never end.”
This was in the year 1776. Dr. Coke immediately
became a member of the Methodist Society, and was
soon regarded as the most efficient of all Mr. Wesley's
fellow-labourers. Having wholly given himself up to
the Connection, the second place in it was naturally
assigned to him. No other of its active members was
possessed of equal fortune and rank in society; and
all that he had, his fortune, to every shilling, and his
life, to every minute that could be employed in active
exertions, were devoted to its interests. He was
now considered as Mr. Wesley's more immediate re-
presentative; and, instead of being stationed, like the
other preachers, in a circuit, he travelled, like Mr.
Wesley, as a general inspector, wherever his presence
was thought needful. In Ireland, more particularly,
he visited the Societies alternately with Mr. Wesley,
so that an annual visitation was always made. Before
Mr. Wesley became acquainted with Dr. Coke, Mr.
Fletcher had been looked to as the fittest person
to act as his coadjutor, and succeed to as much of his
authority as could be deputed to any successor. But
Mr. Fletcher shrunk from the invidious distinction,
and from the difficulties of the task: he had found
his place, and knew where he could be most usefully
employed for others, and most happily for himself.
The want of clerical assistants had been severely
felt by Wesley. Notwithstanding his attachment to
the Church of England, and his desire not only to
continue in union with it himself, but to preserve his
people from forming a schism, the tendency to sepa-
ration became every year more apparent, from various
causes, of which some were incidental; but others
270 TENDENCY To SCHISM.
arose inevitably from the system which he had es-
tablished. A hostile feeling toward the Church was
retained by the dissenters who united themselves to
the Methodists: these proselytes were not numerous,
but they leavened the Society. It is likely too, that,
as Methodism began to assume consistency and im-
portance, just at the time when the Non-jurors were
on the point of dissolution, a considerable proportion
of that party would rather ally themselves with it,
than with the sectarians or the Establishment; and
these persons also would bring with them an un-
favourable disposition toward the Church. But the
main cause is obviously to be found in the growing
influence of the lay preachers, their jealousy of the
few clergymen who acted with them, their natural
desire of placing themselves upon a level with the
ministers of other denominations, and the disrespect
with which the Establishment began to be regarded
by most of those persons who preferred the preaching
at the Chapel to that in the Church. And though
Wesley often and earnestly warned them against this,
neither his language nor his conduct were at all times
consistent. In controversy, and in self-defence, he
was sometimes led to speak of the unworthy ministers
of the Establishment in terms of indignation, not
considering that his remarks would be generally
applied by many of his followers.
The growing desire of the itinerants to raise them-
selves in rank, and of the societies to have the Sacra-
ment administered by their own preachers, induced
Wesley, who, in the continual bustle of his life, some-
times acted without due consideration, to take the
strange means of obtaining orders for some of his lay
assistants from a Greek, who called himself ERASMUs,
and appeared in London with the title of Bishop of
Arcadia. This measure was, in every point of view,
injudicious. Charles was decidedly hostile to it, and
THE GREEK BISEIOP. 271
would never allow the preachers who had been thus
ordained to assist him at the communion table. Sta-
niforth was one; and he found it so invidious among
his colleagues, that he never thought proper to exer-
cise the ministerial functions. On the other hand,
some, both of the local and itinerant preachers, co-
veted the distinction, and prevailed upon the obliging
bishop to lay his hands upon them, without Mr. Wes-
ley's consent. Displeased at this disregard of his
authority, he acted with his wonted decision, and at
once excluded from the Connection those who would
not forego the powers with which they supposed
themselves to be invested. It was doubtful whether
this Erasmus * was what he prétended to be; and
the whole transaction gave Wesley's enemies an op-
portunity of attacking him, which they did not fail to
use. They charged him with having violated the oath
of supremacy, by thus inducing a foreign prelate to
exercise acts of ecclesiastical jurisdiction within this
realm; and they alleged that he had even pressed the
* Toplady saw a certificate given by this vagrant, as he calls him, to
the persons whom he pretended to ordain. It confirmed him in his
opinion that the man was an impostor, because it was written, not in
the modern Greek, but in the ancient, and of a very mean sort. This
is the 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 sub-deacons and deacons,
and also to advance to the dignity of a priest | Of this grace, which
hath descended to our humility, I have ordained sub-deacon and
deacon, at Snow-fields Chapel, on the 19th day of Nov. 1764, and at
West-street Chapel, on the 24th of the same month, priest, the
Rev. Mr. W. C., 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, Nov. 24. 1764.
“ ERASMUs, Bishop of Arcadia.”
Mr. Nightingale says, that inquiry concerning him was made of the
patriarch of Smyrna, and that it appeared he really was Bishop of Ar-
cadia, in Crete.
272 THE GREEK BISHOP.
Greek to consecrate him a bishop also, that he might
then ordain what ministers he pleased. Erasmus was
said to have refused, because, according to the canons
of the Greek Church, more than one bishop must be
present to assist at the consecration of a new one.
Charles Wesley was even accused, in the Gospel Ma-
gazine, of having offered the Greek forty guineas, if
he would perform the ceremony. This is palpably
false: nothing can be so incredible as that Charles
Wesley would have made such an offer, except that a
bishop of Arcadia in London should have refused it.
The charge of simony is, beyond all doubt, purely
calumnious — in the spirit of that slander which the
Gospel Magazine breathed in all its numbers. But
there seems reason to believe that Wesley was willing
to have been episcopised upon this occasion.
Both brothers retained the fancy of baptizing by
immersion, after they had outgrown many other
eccentricities; and Wesley followed this mode some-
times in condescension to the whims of others, when
he had ceased to attach any importance to it, and
must have perceived the exceeding inconvenience of
the practice. One of the charges which the virulent
Toplady brought against him was, that of having im-
mersed a certain Lydia. Sheppard in a bathing-tub, in
a cheesemonger's cellar in Spitalfields, and holding
her so long under water, while he deliberately pro-
nounced the words of administration, that she was
almost insensible when she was taken out. The story
was related on her own authority, which probably was
not the best in the world. But Wesley's course of life
brought him into contact with persons under every
disease of mind, and in all the intermediate stages
between madness and roguery. Crazy people, indeed,
found their way to him as commonly as they used to
do to court, though with less mischievous intentions.
CRAZY ENTHUSIASTS. 273
They generally went in a spirit of pure kindness, to
enlighten him, and correct his errors.
Two ignorant dreamers, while the French prophets
had a party in this country, called upon him at the
Foundry, saying, they were sent from God to inform
him, that very shortly he should be born’d again; and
they added, that they would stay in the house till it
was done, unless he turned them out. Wesley knew
how to deal with such prophets as these: he assured
them that he would not turn them out, showed them
into the Society room, and left them to themselves.
“It was tolerably cold,” he says, “ and they had
neither meat nor drink.” There, however, they sate
from morning till evening, then quietly walked off,
and troubled him with their company no more.
A woman came to him, one day, with a message
from the Lord, she said, to tell him he was laying up
treasures on earth, taking his ease, and minding only
eating and drinking. “I told her,” says he, “God
knew me better; and, if he had sent her, it would
have been with a more proper message.” The idle
notion, that he was enriching himself, prevailed among
persons who might easily have known better. He re-
ceived a letter from the Board of Excise, telling him
the commissioners could not doubt but that he had
plate, for which he had neglected to make an entry,
and requiring him immediately to make a proper re-
turn. His answer was, “Sir, I have two silver tea-
spoons at London, and two at Bristol: this is all the
plate which I have at present; and I shall not buy
any more, while so many round me want bread.”
In the beginning of his career, Wesley perceived
that there was more danger of the growth of infidelity
than of superstition; and this opinion was confirmed
by his after-experience. He discovered, in the beau-
tiful vale of Lorton, that Deism had found its way
into the heart of the Cumbrian mountains; and near
"VOL. II. T
274 INFIDELS.
Manchester he found, what he had never heard of in
England, a whole clan of infidel peasants, who had
been scoffed and argued out of their belief by the
vulgar ribaldry and impudent ignorance of an ale-
house-keeper. Of the persons whom he met with in
this unhappy state of mind, some were contented to
live without God in the world, and be as the beasts
that perish, as if they had succeeded in annihilating
their diviner part. But others confessed the misery of
wandering in doubt and darkness. One who, having
been a zealous Romanist, had cast off Popery and
Christianity together, said to him, “I know there is
a God, and I believe him to be the soul of all, the
anima mundi; if he be not rather, as I sometimes think,
the Tö IIów, the whole compages of body and spirit
every where diffused. But farther than this I know
not : all is dark; my thought is lost. Whence I
came, I know not; nor what, nor why, I am; nor
whither I am going. But this I know, I am unhappy;
I am weary of life; I wish it were at an end.”
For men in this pitiable state Wesley was an excel-
lent physician, and he had not unfrequently the satis-
faction of knowing that his advice was not given in
vain. He himself had gone through this stage of
doubt in early life, and has described the perplexity
of his mind with great force and feeling. “After
carefully heaping up,” he says, “the strongest argu-
ments which I could find, either in ancient or modern
authors, for the very being of a God, and (which is
nearly connected with it) the existence of an invisible
world, I have wandered up and down musing with
myself, what if all these things which I see around
me, this earth and heaven, this universal frame, have
existed from eternity? What if that melancholy sup-
position of the old poet be the real case?
Otm Trép púAAwy yewsi) rouñóe kai ävöpóv.
What if the generation of men be exactly parallel
WESLEY'S STATE OF DOUBT. 275
with the generation of leaves—if the earth drop its
successive inhabitants just as the tree drops its
leaves 2 What if that saying of a great man be really
true, Post mortem nihil est, et psa mors nihil, Death
is nothing, and nothing is after death. How am I
sure that this is not the case ?– that I have not ‘fol-
lowed cunningly-devised fables?’” And I have pur-
sued the thought till there was no spirit in me, and I
was ready to choose strangling rather than life.”f
On the other hand, there could not be a more
dangerous counsellor for persons with a certain tend-
ency to derangement, for he seems always to have
delighted to believe extraordinary things which he
ought to have doubted, and to have encouraged Sallies
of enthusiasm which he ought to have repressed.
Thus, speaking of a lady who exhibited before him
her gift of extempore prayer, he says, “Such a prayer
I never heard before; it was perfectly an original;
odd and unconnected, made up of disjointed frag-
ments, and yet like a flame of fire: every sentence
went through my heart, and, I believe, the heart of
* I too (but indeed what mind of any common sensibility has not P)
have been whirled round in the same eddy : but I used to find relief in
the reflection, that were it so, I should not be putting the question, or
capable of doubting it sufficiently even to be conscious of it. I should
drop as the leaves; for my impulse to ask respecting it must have a
source, and, according to the hypothesis, this source must be God.—
S. T. C. -
t Wesley introduced a remarkable passage of this kind in one of his
sermons. “ The Devil,” said he, “once infused into my mind a
temptation, that perhaps I did not believe what I was preaching. ‘Well
then,’ said I, ‘ I will preach it till I do.’ But, the Devil suggested,
‘What if it should not be true?’ ‘Still,” I replied, I will preach it,
because, whether true or not, it must be pleasing to God, by preparing
men better for another world.” “But what if there should be no other
world P’ rejoined the enemy. “I will go on preaching it,” said I, ‘be-
cause it is the way to make them better and happier in this.’” This
passage is not in Mr. Wesley's works; but I relate it, with perfect con-
fidence, on the authority of the late Dr. Estlin, of Bristol, who heard
him preach the sermon, and whom I will not thus cursorily mention
without an expression of respectful remembrance.
T 2
276 WESLEY'S CREDULITY.
every one present. For many months I have found
nothing like it. It was good for me to be here.” And
again, after a second performance, he reasons upon
the case: “Is not this an instance of ten thousand, of
God's choosing the foolish things of the world to con-
found the wise ? Here is one that has only a weak
inatural understanding, but an impetuosity of temper
bordering upon madness. And hence both her sen-
timents are confused, and her expressions odd and
indigested; and yet, notwithstanding this, more of
the real power of God attends these uncouth expres-
sions, than the sensible discourses of even good men,
who have twenty times her understanding.” The
wonder would have ceased if he had reflected upon
the state of mind in the recipients.
Here he was the dupe of his own devout emotions,
which, in a certain mood, might as well have been
excited by the music of an organ, or the warbling of
a sky-lark. But he was sometimes imposed upon by
relations which were worthy to have figured in the
Acta Sanctorum. One of his preachers pretended to
go through the whole service of the meeting in his
sleep, — exhorting, singing, and preaching, and even
discoursing with a clergyman who came in and rea-
soned with him during his exhibition, and affecting
in the morning to know nothing of what he had done
during the night. And Wesley could believe this, and
ask seriously by what principle of philosophy it was to
be explaimed ! He believed also that a young woman,
having received a strong impulse to call sinners to
repentance, was inwardly told, that if she would not
do it willingly, she should do it whether she would or
not : that from that time she became subject to fits,
in which she always imagined herself to be preaching;
and that having cried out at last, “Lord, I will obey
thee, I will call sinners to repentance,” and begun to
preach in consequence, the fits left her. In the history
WESLEY’s CREDULITY. 277
of this remarkable man, nothing is more remarkable
than his voracious credulity. He accredited and re-
peated stories of apparitions, and witchcraft, and pos-
session, so silly, as well as monstrous, that they might
have nauseated the coarsest appetite for wonder; this,
too, when the belief on his part was purely gratuitous,
and no motive can be assigned for it, except the pleasure
of believing. The state of mind is more intelligible
which made him ascribe a supernatural importance to
the incidents that befel him, whether merely accidental
or produced by any effort of his own. Strong fancy,
and strong prepossession, may explain this, without
ascribing too much to the sense of his own importance.
If he escaped from storms at sea, it appeared to him
that the tempest abated, and the waves fell, because
his prayers were heard. If he was endangered in
travelling, he was persuaded that angels, both evil
and good, had a large share in the transaction. “The
old murderer,” he says, “is restrained from hurting
me, but he has power over my horses.” A panic
seized the people, in a crowded meeting, while he was
preaching upon the slave trade: it could not be ac-
counted for, he thought, without supposing some pre-
ternatural influence: “Satan fought, lest his kingdom
should be delivered up.” If, in riding over the moun-
tains in Westmorland, he sees rain behind him and
before, and yet escapes between the showers, the
natural circumstance appears to him to be an especial
interference in his favour. Preaching in the open
air, he is chilled, and the sun suddenly comes forth to
warm him: the heat becomes too powerful, and
forthwith a cloud is interposed. So, too, at Durham,
when the sun shone with such force upon his head,
that he was scarcely able to speak, “I paused a
little,” he says, “and desired God would provide me
a covering, if it was for his glory. In a moment it
was done; a cloud covered the sun, which troubled
T 3
278 WESLEY'S CREDULITY.
me no more. Ought voluntary humility to conceal
this palpable proof, that God still heareth the prayer 2"
At another time the sun, while he was officiating,
shone full in his face, but it was no inconvenience;
nor were his eyes more dazzled than if it had been
under the earth. Labouring under indisposition,
when he was about to administer the sacrament, the
thought, he says, came into his mind, “Why should
he not apply to God at the beginning, rather than the
end of an illness P’’ He did so, and found immediate
relief. By an effort of faith, he could rid himself
of the tooth-ache: and more than once, when his
horse fell lame, and there was no other remedy, the
same application was found effectual, “Some,” he
observes, “will esteem this a most notable instance
of enthusiasm: be it so or not, I aver the plain fact.”
This was Wesley's peculiar weakness, and he re-
tained it to the last. Time and experience taught
him to correct some of his opinions, and to moderate
others, but this was rooted in his nature. In the
year 1780, he began to publish the Arminian Maga-
zine, for the double purpose of maintaining and
defending those doctrines which were reviled with
such abominable scurrility by the Calvinists, in their
monthly journal *, and of supplying his followers,
* In the preface to the first volume he says, “Amidst the multitude
of magazines which now swarm in the world, there was one, a few
years ago, termed The Christian Magazine, which was of great use to
mankind, and did, honour to the publishers; but it was soon discon-
tinued to the regret of many serious and sensible persons. In the
room of it started up a miscreated phantom, called The Spiritual Ma-
gazine ; and not long after it, its twin sister, oddly called The Gospel
Magazine. Both of these are intended to show, that God is not loving
to every man ; that his mercy is not over all his works; and, conse-
quently, that Christ did not die for us all, but for one in ten, for the
elect only.
“This comfortable doctrine, the sum of which, proposed in plain
English, is, God, before the foundation of the world, absolutely and
irrevocably decreed, that ‘some men shall be saved, do what they will,
and the rest damned, do what they can,’ has, by these tracts, been
spread throughout the land with the utmost diligence. And these
WESLEY'S CREDULITY. 279
who were not in the habit of reading much, with an
entertaining and useful miscellany. Both purposes
were well answered: but having this means at his
command, he indulged his indiscriminate credulity,
and inserted, without scruple, and without reflection,
any marvellous tale that came to his hands.
champions of it have, from the beginning, proceeded in a manner
worthy of their cause. They have paid no more regard to goodnature,
decency, or good manners, than to reason or truth: all these they set
utterly at defiance. Without any deviation from their plan, they have
defended their dear decrees, with arguments worthy of Bedlam, and
with language worthy of Billingsgate.”
These were the first religious journals which were published in Eng-
land. Since that time every denomination of dissenters, down to the
most insignificant subdivisions of schism, has had its magazine.
280
CHAPTER XXVII.
METHODISM IN AMERICA. — WESLEY's POLITICAL
CONDUCT.
A LITTLE modification might have rendered Methodism
a most useful auxiliary to the English Church. But
if some such auxiliary power was needed in this
country, much more was it necessary in British
America, where the scattered state of the population
was as little favourable to the interests of religion as
of government. -
In the New-England States, the Puritans had
established a dismal tyranny of the priesthood: time
and circumstances had mitigated it; and ecclesiastical
discipline, in those provinces, seems nearly to have
reached its desirable mean about the middle of the
eighteenth century: the elders no longer exercised
an impertinent and vexatious control over their
countrymen : they retained, however, a wholesome
influence; the means of religious instruction were
carefully provided, and the people were well trained
up in regular and pious habits. Too little attention
had been paid to this point in the other States: indeed
it may be said, that the mother country, in this re-
spect, had grossly neglected one of its first and most
important duties towards the colonies.* There were
* Franklin gives a curious anecdote upon this subject, in one of his
letters. “The reverend commissary Blair, who projected the college in
the province of Virginia, and was in England to solicit benefactions and
a charter, relates that the Queen (Mary), in the King's absence, having
ordered the Attorney-General (Seymour) to draw up the charter which
was to be given, with 2000l. in money, he opposed the grant, saying,
that the nation was engaged in an expensive war, that the money was
wanted for better purposes, and he did not see the least occasion for a
college in Virginia. Blair represented to him, that its intention was to
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 281
many parts in the Southern States, of which the
frightful picture given of them by Secker, when
Bishop of Oxford, was not overcharged. “The first
European inhabitants,” said that prelate, “too many
of them carried but little sense of Christianity abroad
with them. A great part of the rest suffered it to
wear out gradually, and their children grew, of course,
to have yet less than they, till, in some countries,
there were scarce any footsteps of it left beyond the
mere name. No teacher was known, no religious as-
sembly was held; the sacrament of baptism not ad-
ministered for near twenty years together, nor that
of the Lord's Supper for near sixty, amongst many
thousands of people, who did not deny the obligation
of these duties, but lived, nevertheless, in a stupid
neglect of them.” To remedy this, the Society for
the Propagation of the Gospel sent out missionaries
from time to time; but, misdirecting their exertions,
for want of proper inquiry, or proper information,
they employed most of the few labourers whom they
could find in the States where they were least wanted,
and in places where they did little more than interfere
with what was the established system.
Whitefield had contented himself with the immediate
impression which he produced. The person who first
began to organise Methodism in America was an
Irishman, by name Philip Embury, who had been a
local preacher in his own country. Having removed
to New York, he collected a few hearers, first in his
own house, and when their number increased, in a
large room, which they rented for the purpose. Captain
Webb happened at this time to be in America. This
educate and qualify young men to be ministers of the Gospel, much
wanted there; and begged Mr. Attorney would consider that the people
of Virginia had souls to be saved, as well as the people of England.
Souls / said he, damn your souls / Make tobacco /’— Correspondence,
vol. i. p. 158.
282 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
officer, who had lost an eye in the battle of Quebec,
had been converted, not long after that event, by
Mr. Wesley's preaching at Bristol, and had tried his
own talents as a preacher at Bath, when some ac-
cident prevented the itinerant from arriving, whom
the congregation had assembled to hear. Webb,
hearing of Embury's beginning, paid him a visit
from Albany, where he then held the appointment of
barrack-master, preached in his uniform, attracted
auditors by the novelty of such an exhibition, and
made proselytes by his zeal. A regular society was
formed in the year 1768, and they resolved to build
a preaching-house.
Wesley's attention had already been invited to
America. He met with a Swedish chaplain, who had
spent several years in Pennsylvania, and who entreated
that he would send out preachers to help him, repre-
senting what multitudes in that country were as sheep
without a shepherd. Soon afterwards Captain Webb
and his associates wrote to Mr. Wesley, informing him
that a beginning had been made, and requesting that
he would, at the ensuing Conference, appoint some
persons to come over, and prosecute the work which
was so providentially begun. About the same time
there came a letter from a certain Thomas Bell, at
Charlestown, saying, “Mr. Wesley says, the first
message of the preachers is to the lost sheep of
England. And are there none in America 2 They
have strayed from England into the wild woods here,
and they are running wild after this world. They
are drinking their wine in bowls, and are jumping
and dancing, and serving the Devil, in the groves,
and under the green trees. And are not these lost
sheep 2 And will none of the preachers come here?
Where is Mr. Brownfield 2 Where is John Pawson 2
Where is Nicholas Manners? Are they living, and
will they not come 2"
METHODISM IN AMERICA. - 283
Pawson would not go; because, he said, he did not
see that it could be his duty to leave his parents, who
were then on the brink of the grave. He followed
his heart in this, and was right. Pawson, indeed,
was in his proper sphere: the fire of enthusiasm in
him had settled into a steady vital heat, and there
were younger men for the work. Richard Boardman
and Joseph Pillmoor volunteered, at the next Confer-
ence, for the service ; and as the New-York Metho-
dists had contracted a debt by their building, the
Connection sent them fifty pounds by these preachers,
as a token of brotherly love. They landed at Phila-
delphia, where Captain Webb had already formed a
society of about an hundred members. Pillmoor
proceeded to Maryland and Virginia, Boardman to
New York: both sent home flattering accounts of
their success, and of the prospect before them; so
that Wesley himself began to think of following them:
“but,” said he “the way is not plain; I wait till
Providence shall speak more clearly, on One side or the
other.” In 1771, he says, “My call to America is not
yet clear. I have no business there, as long as they
can do without me: at present I am a debtor to the
people of England and Ireland, and especially to them
that believe.” That year, therefore, he sent over
Richard Wright and Francis Asbury, the latter of
whom proved not inferior to himself in zeal, activity,
and perseverance. Asbury perceived that his ministry
was more needed in the villages and scattered planta-
tions than in large towns; and he therefore devoted
himself to country service. In 1773, Thomas Rankin
and George Shadford were sent to assist their bre-
thren: by this time they had raised a few recruits
among the Americans; and holding a Conference at
Philadelphia, it appeared, by their muster-rolls, that
there were about a thousand members in the different
Societies.
284 WESLEY’s POLITICAL CONDUCT.
&
These preachers produced a considerable effect; and
Methodism would have increased even more rapidly
than in England, if its progress had not been inter-
rupted by the rebellion. At the commencement of
the disputes which led to that unhappy and ill-
managed contest, Mr. Wesley was disposed to doubt
whether the measures of government were defensible:
but when the conduct of the revolutionists became
more violent, and their intentions were unmasked, he
saw good cause for altering his opinion, and published
“A Calm. Address to the Americans,” examining the
question, whether the English Parliament had power
to tax the colonies. In this little pamphlet he pur-
sued the same chain of reasoning as Dr. Johnson had
done, and maintained that the supreme power in
Fngland had a legal right of laying any tax upon
them, for any end beneficial to the whole empire.
The right of taxation, he argued, rested upon the
same ground as the right of legislation: and the
popular argument, that every freeman consented to
the laws by which he was governed, was a mere
fallacy. A very small part of the people were con-
cerned in making laws; that business could only be
done by delegation: those who were not electors had
manifestly no part; and of those who were, when their
votes were nearly equally divided, the minority were
governed, not only without, but against their own
consent. So much with regard to the laws which
were enacted in their own times: and how could it
be said that any man had consented to those which
were made before he was born ? In fact, consent to
the laws was purely passive, and no other kind of
consent was allowed by the condition of civil life.
The Americans had not forfeited the rights of their
forefathers, but they could no longer exercise them.
They were the descendants of men who either had no
votes, or who had resigned them by emigration. They
WESLEY’s POLITICAL CONDUCT. 285
had, therefore, exactly what their ancestors left them;
not a vote in making laws, nor in choosing legislators;
but the happiness of being protected by laws, and the
duty of obeying them. During the last war, they
had been attacked by enemies, whom they were not
able to resist: they had been largely assisted, and, by
that means, wholly delivered: the mother country,
desiring to be reimbursed for some part of the great
expense she had incurred, laid on a small tax, and
this reasonable and legal measure had set all America
in a flame. How was it possible that such a cause
should have produced such an effect 2 - -
“I will tell you,” said Wesley. “I speak the more
freely, because I am unbiassed. I have nothing to
hope or fear on either side. I gain nothing, either by
the government or by the Americans, and probably
never shall; and I have no prejudice to any man in
America: I love you as my brethren and countrymen.
My opinion is this: we have a few men in England
who are determined enemies to monarchy. Whether
they hate his present Majesty on any other ground
than because he is a king, I know not ; but they cor-
dially hate his office, and have for some years been
undermining it with all diligence, in hopes of erecting
their grand idol, their dear commonwealth, upon its
ruins. I believe they have let very few into their
design (although many forward it, without knowing
any thing of the matter); but they are steadily pur-
suing it, as by various other means, so, in particular,
by inflammatory papers, which are industriously and
continually dispersed throughout the towns and coun-
try. By this method they have already wrought
thousands of the people even to the pitch of madness.
By the same, only varied according to your circum-
stances, they have likewise inflamed America. I make
no doubt but these very men are the original cause of
the present breach between England and her colonies.
286 WESLEY'S POLITICAL CONDUCT.
And they are still pouring oil into the flame, studiously
incensing each against the other, and opposing, under
a variety of pretences, all measures of accommodation.
So that although the Americans, in general, love the
English, and the English, in general, love the Ameri-
cans, (all, I mean, that are not yet cheated and
exasperated by these artful men,) yet the rupture is
growing wider every day, and none can tell where it
can end. These good men hope it will end in the
total defection of North America from England. If
this were effected, they trust the English in general
would be so irreconcileably disgusted, that they should
be able, with or without foreign assistance, entirely to
overturn the government.”
Mr. Wesley afterwards perceived, that the class of
persons whom he had here supposed to be the prime
movers of this unhappy contest, were only aiders and
abettors, and that the crisis had come on from natural
causes. “I allow,” said he, “that the Americans
were strongly exhorted, by letters from England,
“never to yield, or lay down their arms, till they had
their own terms, which the government would be
constrained to give them in a short time.' But those
measures were concerted long before this, – long
before either the Tea Act or the Stamp Act existed,
only they were not digested into form. Forty years
ago, when my brother was in Boston, it was the
general language there, ‘We must shake off the yoke;
we never shall be a free people till we shake off the
English yoke: ' and the late acts of parliament were
not the cause of what they have since done, but barely
the occasion they laid hold on.” That the American
revolution must in great part be traced to the puri-
tanical origin of the New-England States, is indeed
certain: but colonies are naturally republican; and
when they are far distant, and upon a large scale, they
tend necessarily, as well as naturally, to separation.
WESLEY’s POLITICAL CONDUCT. 287
Colonies will be formed with a view to this, when
colonial policy shall be better understood. It will be
acknowledged, that when protection is no longer
needed, dependence ceases to be desirable; and that
when a people can maintain and defend themselves,
they are past their pupilage.
This address excited no little indignation among
some of the English partisans of the Americans; and
it produced a letter to Mr. Wesley from Mr. Caleb
Evans, a Baptist minister at Bristol, of considerable
reputation in his own community. Wesley, who had
neither leisure nor inclination for controversy, left the
field to Mr. Fletcher, who again, on this occasion, .
seconded his friend with great ability, as well as zeal.
“My reverence for God’s word,” said this good man,—
“my duty to the king, and regard for my friend,-my
love to injured truth, and the consciousness of the
sweet liberty which I enjoy under the government,
call for this little tribute of my pen; and I pay it so
much the more cheerfully, as few men in the kingdom
have had a better opportunity of trying which is most
eligible, a republican government, or the mild tem-
pered monarchy of England. I lived more than
twenty years the subject of two of the mildest repub-
lics of Europe: I have been for above that number of
years the subject of your sovereign; and, from sweet
experience, I can set my seal to this clause of the
king's speech, at the opening of this session of parlia-
ment, ‘To be a subject of Great Britain, with all its
consequences, is to be the happiest subject of any civil
government in the world.”
Mr. Fletcher was no common controversialist : .
earnest sincerity, and devout ardour, were not more
conspicuous in his writings, than the benevolence
which appeared when he argued with most force and
warmth, and the pure candour and religious charity
which even his theological opponents felt and ac-
288 WESLEY’s POLITICAL CONDUCT.
knowledged. He, as well as Mr. Wesley, saw distinctly
in what the principles of the American contest began,
and in what they were likely to end. “If once legis-
lation,” he said, with Baxter, “(the chief act of
government) be denied to be any part of government
at all, and affirmed to belong to the people as such,
who are no governors, all government will thereby be
overthrown. Give me,” he truly said, “Dr. Price's
political principles, and I will move all kings out of
their thrones, and all subjection out of the world.”
He rested the question upon religious grounds, and,
on those grounds, argued against civil, as he had
formerly done against ecclesiastical Antinomianism. .
The transition from one to the other, he said, was
easy and obvious; for as he that reverences the law
of God will naturally reverence the just commands
of the king, so he that thinks himself free from the law
of the Lord will hardly think himself bound by the
statutes of his sovereign. He traced the pestilent
errors which were now again beginning to prevail,
after having for more than a century been subdued,
to those seeds which had sprung up with the
Lollards, and brought forth their full harvest at
Munster.” He prest upon his opponent, as a Chris-
* “All our danger at present,” says he, “is from King Mob ; and
(pursuing Mr. Wesley's view of the subject) this danger is so much the
greater, as some dissenters among us, who were quiet in the late reign,
and thought themselves happy under the protection of the Toleration
Act, grow restless, begin openly to countenance their dissatisfied bre-
thren in America, and make it a point of conscience to foment divi-
sions in the kingdom. Whether they do it merely from a brotherly
regard to the colonists, who chiefly worship God according to the dis-
senting plan, or whether they hope that a revolution on the Continent
would be naturally productive of a revolution in England; that a re-
volution in the State, here, would draw after it a revolution in the
Church ; and that if the Church of England were once shaken, the dis-
senting churches among us might raise themselves upon her ruins ; –
whether, I say, there is something of this under the cry of slavery and
robbery, which you set up, is a question (addressing himself to Mr.
Caleb Evans) which I said, in the preceding editions, you could deter-
WESLEY'S POLITICAL CONDUCT. 289
tian, those texts of Scripture which enjoin the duty
of submission to established authorities; and, as a
Calvinist, the articles of Calvin's confession of faith,
wherein that duty is expressly recognised. “We
believe that God will have the world to be governed
by laws and civil powers, that the lawless inclinations
of men may be curbed; and therefore he has esta-
blished kingdoms and republics, and other sorts of
governments, (some hereditary, and some otherwise,)
together with whatsoever belongs to judicature; and
He will be acknowledged the author of government.
We ought, then, not only to bear, for his sake, that
rulers should have dominion over us; but it is also
our bounden duty to honour them, and to esteem
them worthy of all reverence, considering them as
God’s lieutenants and officers, which He has com-
missioned to execute a lawful and holy commission.
We maintain, therefore, that we are bound to obey
their laws and statutes, to pay tribute, taxes, and
other duties, and to bear the yoke of subjection freely
and with good will; and therefore we detest the men
who reject superiorities, introduce community and
confusion of property, and overthrow the order of
justice. Sir,” he continued, applying the argu-
mentum ad hominem to his opponent, “you are a
Calvinist; you follow the French reformer, when he
teaches the absolute reprobation, and unavoidable
damnation, of myriads of poor creatures yet unborn.
Oh, forsake him not, when he follows Christ, and
teaches that God (not the people) is to be acknow-
ledged the author of power and government, and that
we are bound to bear cheerfully, for his sake, the yoke
of scriptural subjection to our governors | Be en-
treated, Sir, to rectify your false notions of liberty.
mine far better than I : but now I recall it ; because, though I may con-
sider that part of the controversy in that unfavourable light as a politi-
cian, yet, as a Christian, I ought to think and hope the best.”
VOL. II. U
29() WESLEY’s POLITICAL CONDUCT.
The liberty of Christians and Britons does not consist
in bearing no yoke, but in bearing a yoke made easy
by a gracious Saviour and a gracious sovereign. A
John of Leyden may promise to make us first law-
less, then legislators and kings; and, by his delusive
promises, he may raise us to — a fool's paradise, if
not to — the gallows. But a true deliverer, and a
good governor, says to our restless Antinomian
spirits, Come unto me, and I will give you rest ! For
my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. We can have
no rest in the Church, but under Christ's easy yoke ;
no rest in the state, but under the easy yoke of our
rightful sovereign.”
The political part which Wesley took at this time
made him as many enemies as his decided opposition
to Calvinism had done: and even some of his ad-
herents and admirers, who in all other things have
justified him through thick and thin, have censured
him, as if he had gone out of the line of his duty,
acted unwisely in meddling with political disputes,
and taken the wrong side. To the question, why he
had written upon such subjects, he made answer,
“Not to get money: not to get preferment for myself
or my brother's children: not to please any man
living, high or low. I know mankind too well. I
know they that love you for political service, love you
less than their dinners; and they who hate you, hate
you worse than the Devil.” It was from the clear and
strong sense of duty that he acted; and it is not
the least of his merits, that he was one of the first
persons to expose the fallacy, and foresee the conse-
quences, of those political principles which were then
beginning to convulse the world. Their natural
tendency, he said, was to unhinge all government,
and to plunge every nation into total anarchy. In
his Observations on Liberty, addressed to Dr. Price,
in answer to a pamphlet of the Doctor's, which did its
WESLEY’s POLITICAL CONDUCT. 291
share of mischief in its day, he contradicted, upon his
own sure observation, the Doctor's absurd assertion,
that the population of the country had greatly de-
creased.*: he commented upon the encouragement
which was held out to the Americans in that pam-
phlet, and upon the accusations which were there ad-
vanced, that the British government had secured to
the Canadians the enjoyment of their own laws, and
their own religion, for the purpose of bringing up
from thence an army of French Papists, – for
Dr. Price had not been ashamed to bring this charge
against his country ! In opposition to the Doctor's
position, that liberty is more or less complete, ac-
cording as the people have more or less share in the
government, he contended, and appealed to history
for the fact, that the greater share the people have
in the government, the less liberty, either civil or
religious, does the nation in general enjoy. “Ac-
cordingly,” said he, “there is most liberty of all, civil
* “I knew the contrary,” said Wesley, “ having an opportunity of
seeing ten times more of England every year than most men in the
nation. All our manufacturing towns, as Birmingham, Sheffield, Man-
chester, Liverpool, increase daily. So do very many villages all over
the kingdom, even in the mountains of Derbyshire; and, in the mean
time, exceeding few, either towns or villages, decrease.”
“Dr. Price,” says Mr. Coleridge, in his Friend, “ almost succeeded
in persuading the English nation—(for it is a curious fact, that the
fancy of our calamitous situation is a sort of necessary sauce, without
which our real prosperity would become insipid to us)—Dr. Price, I
say, alarmed the country with pretended proofs that the island was in
a rapid state of depopulation ; that England at the Revolution had been
Heaven knows how much more populous ; and that, in Queen Elizabeth's
time, or about the Reformation ( !!), the number of inhabitants in
England might have been greater than even at the Revolution, My old
mathematical master, a man of an uncommonly clear head, answered
this blundering book of the worthy Doctor's, and left not a stone un-
turned of the pompous cenotaph, in which the effigy of the still living
and bustling English prosperity lay interred. And yet so much more
suitable was the Doctor's book to the purposes of faction, and to the
November mood of (what is called) the PUBLIC, that Mr. Wales's
pamphlet, though a masterpiece of perspicacity, as well as perspicuity,
was scarcely heard of.”—Vol. ii. p. 72.
U 2.
292 WESLEY’s POLITICAL CONDUCT.
and religious, under a limited monarchy; there is
usually less under an aristocracy; and least of all
under a democracy. The plain melancholy truth,”
said he, “is this; there is a general infatuation,
which spreads, like an overflowing stream, from one
end of the land to the other. The people of England
have, for some years past, been continually fed with
poison: dose after dose has been administered to
them—for fear the first, or second, or tenth should not
suffice — of a poison, whose natural effect is to drive
men out of their senses. Is the Centaur not fabulous 7
Neither is Circe's cup. Papers and pamphlets, repre-
senting one of the best of princes as if he had been
One of the worst, — and all aiming at the same point,
to make the king appear odious, as well as contempti-
ble, in the eyes of his subjects, – are conveyed, week
after week, through all London, and all the nation.
Can any man wonder at the effect 2 What can be ex-
pected, but that they who drink in these papers and
letters with all greediness, will be thoroughly
embittered and inflamed thereby; will first despise,
and then abhor the king 2 What can be expected,
but that, by the repeated doses of this poison, they
will be perfectly intoxicated, and only wait for a
convenient season to tear in pieces the royal monster,
as they think him, and all his adherents Can any
thing be done to open the eyes, to restore the senses,
of an infatuated nation ? Not unless the still re-
newed, still operating cause of that infatuation can be
removed. But how is it possible to be removed,
unless by restraining the licentiousness of the press?”
“I am in great earnest,” he says, in another place:
“so I have need to be ; for I am pleading the cause of
my king and country; yea, of every country under
heaven, where there is any regular government. I am
pleading against those principles that naturally tend
to anarchy and confusion, that directly tend to
WESLEY’s POLITICAL CONDUCT. 293
unhinge all government, and overturn it from the
foundation.”
Forty thousand copies of the Calm. Address were
printed in three weeks: it was written before the war
had actually begun; and excited so much anger among
the English friends of the American cause, that, as
he said, they would willingly have burnt him and it
together. But though Wesley maintained that, when
the principles of order and legitimate government
were seditiously attacked, it was the duty of every
Christian minister to exert himself in opposing the
evil spirit of the times, he saw how imprudent it
would be for his preachers in America to engage in
political matters. “It is your part,” said he, “to be
peacemakers; to be loving and tender to all, but to
addict yourselves to no party. In spite of all solicita-
tions, of rough or smooth words, say not one word
against one or the other side; keep yourselves pure;
do all you can to help and soften all; but ‘beware how
you adopt another's jar.” In the same spirit Charles
Wesley wrote to them, saying, “As to the public
affairs, I wish you to be like-minded with me. I am
of neither side, and yet of both : on the one side of
New England, and of Old. Private Christians are
excused, exempted, privileged to take no part in civil
troubles. We love all, and pray for all, with a sincere
and impartial love. Faults there may be on both sides,
but such as neither you nor I can remedy: therefore
let us, and all our children, give ourselves unto prayer,
and so stand still and see the salvation of God.” It
was scarcely possible for the preachers to follow this
advice; it was scarcely possible that they could refrain
from expressing their opinions upon the one subject
by which all minds were possessed and inflamed, ex-
cited, as they constantly were, by sympathy or provo-
cation. Such, indeed, was the temper of the Americans,
that a friend to the Methodists got possession of all
U 3
294 WESLEY'S POLITICAL CONDUCT.
the copies of the Calm. Address which were sent to
New York, and destroyed them, foreseeing the im-
minent danger to which the preachers would be ex-
posed, if a pamphlet so unpopular in its doctrines
should get abroad. But the part which Wesley had
taken could not be kept secret: the Methodists, in con-
sequence, became objects of suspicion, and the personal
safety of the preachers was oftentimes endangered.
Tarring and feathering was not the only cruelty to
which they were exposed in those days of brutal
violence. The English missionaries were at length
glad to escape as they could: Asbury alone remained:
he was less obnoxious than his colleagues, because,
having chosen the less frequented parts of the country
for the scene of his exertions, he had been less con-
spicuous, and less exposed to provocation and to
danger. Yet even he found it necessary to withdraw
from public view, and conceal himself in the house of
a friend, till, after two years of this confinement, he
obtained credentials from the governor of Pennsyl-
vania, which enabled him to appear abroad again with
safety.
Methodism, meantime, had been kept alive by a
few native preachers, of whom Freeborn Garretson,
and Benjamin Abbot, a strange half-madman, were
two of the most remarkable. It even increased, not-
withstanding all difficulties, and something much
more like persecution than it had ever undergone in
England. In the year 1777, there were forty preachers,
and about 7000 members, exclusive of negroes. The
Society, however, as the war continued, was in danger
of being broken up, by a curious species of intolerance,
which could not have been foreseen. The prevailing
religion in the Southern States had been that of the
Church of England; but the clergy were driven away
during the troubles; the whole of the Church property
was confiscated; and, when affairs were settled, none of
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 295
it was restored, and no attempt made, either by the
general or provincial governments, to substitute any
kind of religious instruction in place of the Establish-
ment, which had been destroyed! The Methodists had
hitherto been members of the English Church; but
upon the compulsory emigration of the clergy, they
found themselves deprived of the sacraments, and
could obtain no baptism for their children; for neither
the Presbyterians, the Independents, or Baptists
would administer these ordinances to them, unless
they would renounce their connection with Mr. Wesley,
and join with their respective sects.
Before the dispute between the mother country and
the colonies assumed a serious character, and before
any apprehension of separation was entertained on the
one side, or any intention to that effect was avowed
on the other, the heads of the Church in England had
represented to government, how greatly it would
conduce to the interest of religion in America, if a
bishop were appointed there. This judicious repre-
sentation was unsuccessful; for the ministers, who
were but too bold in trying experiments of another
kind with the colonists, thought it better to let reli-
gious affairs remain as they were, than to introduce
any innovation. If this had been done half a century
earlier, as soon as the population of the country
required it, it would have been highly beneficial to
America; part of the hierarchy would have submitted
to, or taken part in the revolution, and thus a religious
establishment might have been preserved in those parts
of the United States where the want of religious
instruction is severely felt.* The ill consequences of
* I have somewhere seen it stated, that in the large town of Rich-
mond there was no place of worship till the theatre took fire, and
some fourscore persons perished in the flames. Then the people took
fright, and built a church upon the ruins. A lady, who published an
account, in verse, of her residence in the Southern States, describes,
U 4
296 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
an omission, which, whether morally or politically
considered, is equally to be condemned, were now
experienced. Two American youths, after the peace,
came to England, for the purpose of obtaining epis-
copal ordination: but the Archbishop of Canterbury
was of opinion, that no English bishop could ordain
them, unless they took the oath of allegiance, which
it was impossible for them to do. They then applied
for advice and assistance to Dr. Franklin, who was at
that time in France. Upon consulting a French
clergyman, he found that they could not be ordained
in France, unless they vowed obedience to the Arch-
bishop of Paris; and the nuncio, whom he consulted
also, informed him that the Romish bishop in America
could not lay hands on them unless they turned
Catholics. The advice, therefore, which they received
from a man like Franklin may easily be conjectured;
—it was, that the Episcopalian clergy in America
should become Presbyterians; or, if they would not
consent to this, that they should elect a bishop for
themselves.
This latter course some of the American Methodists
had already adopted. Finding themselves deprived
of communion, and their children of baptism, they
applied to Asbury, whom they regarded as their head,
to adopt some means of providing for these ordinances.
Asbury knew not how to act, and advised them to
wait till circumstances should prepare the way for
what they wished. It was not likely that they should
follow this advice. Breaking off their connection with
him, and thereby with Mr. Wesley, they elected three
of their elder brethren to ordain others by imposition
of hands. Asbury, however, retained so much influ-
ence, that, at a subsequent conference, this ordination
with much feeling her emotion at hearing a church clock when she
returned to her own country : “a sound,” she says, “I had not heard
for years.”
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 297
was declared to be unscriptural. The schism was
healed just as the peace was made; and, as soon as a
communication was opened with England, he sent a
representation of the case to Wesley. Mr. Wesley
had been convinced, by the perusal of Lord King's
Account of the Primitive Church, that bishops and
presbyters are the same order. Men are sometimes
easily convinced of what they find it convenient or
agreeable to believe. Regarding the apostolical suc-
cession as a fable, he thought, when this application
from America arrived, that the best thing which he
could do, would be to secure the Wesleyan succession
for the United States. -
This step, however, was not taken without some
demur, and a feeling that it required some justifica-
tion to himself, as well as to the world. It appears
that some of his friends advised an application to the
bishops, requesting them to ordain preachers for
America. Wesley was not aware of the legal impedi-
ment to this: but he replied, that, on a former appli-
cation to the Bishop of London, his request had been
unsuccessful; that if the bishops would consent, their
proceedings were notoriously slow, and this matter
admitted of no delay. “If they would ordain them
now,” he continued, “they would expect to govern
them; and how grievously would this entangle us!
As our American brethren are now totally disen-
tangled, both from the state and the English hierarchy,
we dare not entangle them again, either with the one
or the other. They are now at full liberty simply to
follow the Scriptures and the primitive Church; and
we judge it best that they should stand fast in that
liberty wherewith God has so strangely made them
free.” Having, therefore, determined how to act, he
communicated his determination to Dr. Coke, and
proposed, in his character of presbyter, which, he said,
was the same as bishop, to invest him with the same
298 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
presbytero-episcopal powers, that, in that character,
he might proceed to America, and superintend the
societies in the United States. The doubts which
Dr. Coke entertained as to the validity of Mr. Wesley's .
authority, were removed by the same treatise which
had convinced Mr. Wesley; and it seems not to have
occurred to either the one or the other, that, if pres-
byter and bishop were the same order, the proposed
consecration was useless; for Dr. Coke, having been
regularly ordained, was as good a bishop as Mr.
Wesley himself. -
Having, however, taken his part, he stated the
reasons upon which he had acted, with his wonted
perspicuity. “By a very uncommon train of provi-
dences,” he said, “many of the provinces of North
America are totally disjoined from the mother coun-
try, and erected into independent States. The English
government has no authority over them, either civil
or ecclesiastical, any more than over the States of
Holland. A civil authority is exercised over them,
partly by the congress, partly by the provincial as-
semblies; but no one either exercises or claims any
ecclesiastical authority at all. In this peculiar situa-
tion, some thousands of the inhabitants of these States
desire my advice.” Then asserting his opinion, that
bishops and presbyters were the same order, and con-
sequently had the same right to ordain, he said that
for many years he had been importuned from time
to time to exercise this right, by ordaining part of
the travelling preachers, and that he had still re-
fused, for peace sake, and because he was determined
as little as possible to violate the established order of
the National Church, to which he belonged. “But
the case,” he pursued, “is widely different between
England and North America. Here there are bishops,
who have a legal jurisdiction. In America there are
none, neither any parish ministers; so that, for some
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 299
hundreds of miles together, there is none either to
baptize, or to administer the Lord's Supper. Here,
therefore, my scruples are at an end: and I conceive
myself at full liberty, as I violate no order, and
invade no man's right, by appointing and sending
labourers into the harvest.”
Accordingly, he summoned Dr. Coke to Bristol,
and Mr. Creighton with him, a clergyman who had
become a regular member of the Methodist Connec-
tion. With their assistance he ordained Richard
Whatcoat and Thomas Vasey presbyters for America;
and afterwards he ordained Dr. Coke Superintendent.
Some reason might have been expected why he thought
this second ordination necessary, superintendent being
but another word for bishop ; and why he thus prac-
tically contradicted the very principle upon which he
professed to act. Not stopping to discuss such nice-
ties, he gave the Doctor letters of ordination, under
his hand and seal, in these words: “To all to whom
these presents shall come, John Wesley, late Fellow
of Lincoln College in Oxford, Presbyter of the Church
of England, sendeth greeting: Whereas many of the
people in the southern provinces of North America,
who desire to continue under my care, and still adhere
to the doctrine and discipline of the Church of England,
are greatly distressed for want of ministers to admi-
nister the sacraments of Baptism and the Lord's Sup-
per, according to the usage of the same Church; and
whereas there does not appear to be any other way of
supplying them with ministers, – Know all men, that
I, John Wesley, think myself to be providentially
called, at this time, to set apart some persons for the
work of the ministry in America. And therefore,
under the protection of Almighty God, and with a
single eye to his glory, I have this day set apart, as a
Superintendent, by the imposition of my hands and
prayer, (being assisted by other ordained ministers,)
300 METHODISMI IN AMERICA.
Thomas Coke, Doctor of Civil Law, a Presbyter of
the Church of England, and a man whom I judge to
be well qualified for that great work: and I do hereby
recommend him, to all whom it may concern, as a fit
person to preside over the flock of Christ. — In testi-
mony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal,
this second day of September, in the year of our Lord
One thousand seven hundred and eighty-four. JoHN
WESLEY.” -
Wesley had long deceived himself respecting the
part which he was acting toward the Church of
England. At the outset of his career he had no in-
tention of setting himself up in opposition to it; and
when, in his progress towards schism, he disregarded
its forms, and set its discipline at nought, he still re-
peatedly disclaimed all views of separation. Nor did
he ever avow the wish, or refer to it as a likely event,
with complacency, even when he must have perceived
that the course of his conduct, and the temper of his
followers, rendered it inevitable. On this occasion
his actions spoke for him : by arrogating the epis-
copal authority, he took the only step which was
wanting to form the Methodists into a distinct body
of separatists from the Church. Nevertheless, this
was not done without reluctance, arising from old
and rooted feelings; nor without some degree of
shame, perhaps, for the inconsistencies in which he
had involved himself. From the part which he now
took, and the manner in which he attempted to justify
it, it may be presumed that the story of his applying
to the Greek bishop for consecration is well founded,
notwithstanding the falsehoods which his enemies had
added to the simple fact. Mr. Wesley's declared
opinion respecting the identity of the episcopal and
priestly orders, was contradicted by his own conduct;
and it may be suspected that his opinion upon the
apostolical succession rested on no better ground than
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 301
its convenience to his immediate purpose. Undoubt-
edly, as he says, it is not possible to prove the apos-
tolical succession; but, short of that absolute proof,
which, in this case, cannot be obtained, and therefore
ought not to be demanded, there is every reason for
believing it. No person who fairly considers the
question can doubt this, whatever value he may at-
tach to it. But Wesley knew its value. He was
neither so deficient in feeling, or in sagacity, as not
to know that the sentiment which connects us with
other ages, and by which we are carried back, is
scarcely less useful in its influences than the hopes
by which we are carried forward. He would rather
have been a link of the golden chain, than the ring
from whence a new one of inferior metal was to
proceed. -
Charles Wesley disapproved his brother's conduct
On this occasion, as an unwarrantable assumption of
authority, and as inconsistent with his professed ad-
herence to the Church of England. His approbation
could never be indifferent to John, whose fortunes he
had during so many years faithfully shared, for
honour and for dishonour, for better, for worse. But
Dr. Coke had now succeeded to the place in Me-
thodism from which Charles had retired; and in him
Mr. Wesley found that willing and implicit obedience .
which is the first qualification that the founders of a
sect, an order, or a religion, require from their imme-
diate disciples. The new superintendent, with his
companions, sailed from Bristol for New York.
Among the books which he read on the voyage, was
the Life of St. Francis Xavier. Through all the ex-
aggerations and fables with which that life is larded,
Coke perceived the spirit of the man, and exclaimed
with kindred feeling, “Oh for a soul like his But,
glory be to God, there is nothing impossible with
Him. I seem to want the wings of an eagle, and the
302 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
voice of a trumpet, that I may proclaim the Gospel
through the east and the west, and the north and the
south.” -
Asbury was not at New York when they arrived.
Dr. Coke explained the plan which had been arranged
in England, to the travelling preachers who were
stationed in that city, and had the satisfaction of
hearing, not only that such a plan would be highly
approved by all the preachers, but of being desired to
make it public at once; “because Mr. Wesley had de-
termined the point; and therefore it was not to be
investigated, but complied with.” This, however, was
not done, because it would have been disrespectful to
Mr. Asbury, with whom he was instructed to consult,
and act in concert. On his way southward, to meet
him, Dr. Coke found that Methodism was in good
odour in America. He was introduced to the governor
of Pennsylvania; and, at an inn in the State of Dela-
ware, the landlady, though not a Methodist herself,
entertained him and his companion sumptuously, and
would not receive their money; esteeming it an honour
to have harboured such guests. When he had finished
preaching one day, at a chapel in the State, in the
midst of the woods, to a large congregation, a plain
robust man came up to him in the pulpit, and kissed
him, pronouncing, at the same time, a primitive salu-
tation. This person, as he readily supposed, proved
to be his colleague. Dr. Coke was prepared to esteem
him, and a personal acquaintance confirmed this
opinion. “I exceedingly reverence Mr. Asbury,” he
says, “he has so much wisdom and consideration, so
much meekness and love, and, under all this, though
hardly to be perceived, so much command and au-
thority.
Asbury, expecting to meet Dr. Coke in this part
of the country, had collected as many preachers as he
could, to hold a council. They agreed to convoke a Con-
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 303
ference of all the preachers at Baltimore, on Christmas
eve, and Freeborn Garretson was sent off on this
errand, “like an arrow, from north to south,” with
directions to send messengers to the right and left.
This was in the middle of November; and, that Coke
might not be idle in the mean time, Asbury drew up
for him a route of about a thousand miles, borrowed
a good horse, and gave him, for a guide and assistant,
his black, Harry, of whom the Doctor says, “I really
believe he is one of the best preachers in the world,
there is such an amazing power attends his preaching,
though he cannot read; and he is one of the hum-
blest creatures I ever saw.” Of eighty-one American
preachers, sixty assembled at the Conference; and, at
their meeting, the form of church government, and
the manner of worship for the Methodists in America,
which Mr. Wesley had arranged, was accepted and
established. The name of Superintendent, and the
notion that bishops and presbyters were the same
order, were now laid aside; they were mere pretexts,
and had served the purpose for which they were in-
tended. Methodism was constituted in America as an
Episcopal Church. The clergy were to consist of
three orders, – bishops, elders, and deacons. The dea-
cons were to be ordained by a bishop, after a proba-
tion similar to that of the travelling preachers in
England. The elders were of two orders: the pre-
siding elders were to be unanimously elected by the
General Conference: they were to be assistants to the
bishops, to represent them in their absence, and to act
under their direction. The travelling elders were to
administer the ordinances, and to perform the office of
marrying: they were to be elected by a majority of
the Annual Conference, and ordained by a bishop and
the elders present, by imposition of hands. A deacon
might not be chosen elder, till he had officiated two
years in his inferior degree. A bishop was to be
304 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
elected by the General Conference, and consecrated
by two or three bishops: but in case the whole order
should be extinct, the ceremony might then be per-
formed by three elders. The business of the bishop was,
to preside in the Conferences, station the preachers,
admit or suspend them during the interval of the
Conferences, travel through the Connection at large,
and inspect the concerns, temporal and spiritual, of
the societies. Besides the General Conference, in
which the supreme authority was lodged, and which
had power of suspending, judging, and expelling the
bishops, as well as electing them, there were to be six
yearly Conferences, – the extent of the country ren-
dered this necessary. The circuits, during the time
of the Conference, were to be supplied by local
preachers, engaged for the purpose, and paid in the
same proportion and manner as the travelling
preachers for whom they acted. A local preacher
was not eligible to the office of deacon till after four
years' probation; nor might he preach till he had ob-
tained a certificate of approbation from his quarterly
meeting. The discipline differed little from that of
the English Methodists; the ritual more. In con-
descension to the puritanic notions which might be
expected among the old Americans, the Sacrament
might be administered to communicants sitting or
standing, if they objected to kneel; and baptism might
be performed either by sprinkling, affusion, or immer-
sion, at the option of the parents, Or, in adult cases,
of the person.
At this Conference, in pursuance of Mr. Wesley's
instructions, and by virtue of the authority derived
from him, Dr. Coke consecrated Mr. Asbury bishop
of the Methodist Episcopal Church in America. In the
name of that Church, an address to General Washing-
ton was drawn up, congratulating him on his appoint-
ment to the office of president, and professing the
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 305.
loyalty of the members, and their readiness, on all
lawful occasions, to support the government then esta-
blished. This was signed by Coke and Asbury, as heads
of the Connection: the former, upon this occasion,
in his capacity of American bishop, performing an act
inconsistent with his allegiance as a British subject.
He, who was always more ready to act than to think,
did not, perhaps, at the time, perceive the dilemma
in which he was placed; mor, if he had, would he have
acted otherwise ; for whenever a national and a secta-
rian duty come in competition with each other, the
national one is that which goes to the wall. It exposed
him to some severe animadversion in England, and to
a semblance of displeasure from Mr. Wesley, which
was merely intended to save appearances. General
Washington returned a written reply, addressed to
the Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the
United States. – “It should be his endeavour,” he
said, “to manifest the purity of his inclinations for
promoting the happiness of mankind, as well as the
sincerity of his desires to contribute whatever might
be in his power towards the civil and religious liberties
of the American people. It always afforded him satis-
faction, when he found a concurrence and practice
between all conscientious men, in acknowledgments
of homage to the Great Governor of the Universe, and
in professions of support to a just civil government.
He would always strive to prove a faithful and impar-
tial patron of genuine vital religion ; and he assured
them in particular, that he took in the kindest part
their promise of presenting their prayers for him at
the throne of heaven; and that he likewise implored
the Divine benediction on them, and their religious
community.”
At their first interview, the two bishops agreed to
use their joint endeavours for establishing a school, or
college, on the plan of Kingswood; and, before they
VOT. II. X.
306 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
met at the Conference, they had got above a thousand
pounds subscribed for it. Relying, therefore, upon
that bank of faith, which, when religious interests,
real or imaginary, are concerned, may safely be drawn
upon to a surprising amount, Dr. Coke gave orders to
begin the work. Four acres of ground were pur-
chased, at the price of sixty pounds sterling, eight-
and-twenty miles from Baltimore: the spot commanded
a view of the Chesapeak and of the Susquehanna
flowing towards it, through a great extent of country,
the sight extending from twenty to fifty miles in
different parts of the splendid panorama. The stu-
dents were to rise at five, summer and winter: upon
this rule the masters were to insist inflexibly, the
founders being convinced, they said, by constant
observation and experience, that it was of vast im-
portance, both to body and mind; for it was of admir-
able use in preserving a good, or improving a bad
constitution; and by thus strengthening the various
organs of the body, it enabled the mind to put forth
its utmost energies. At six they were to assemble to
prayer, and the interval, till seven, was allowed for
recreation; the recreations being gardening, walking,
riding, and bathing; and, within doors, the carpen-
ter's, joiner's, cabinet-maker's, and turner's business.
Nothing which the world calls play was to be per-
mitted. Dr. Coke had brought with him Wesley's
sour precept, that those who play when they are
young, will play when they are old; and he supported
it by the authority of Locke and Rousseau, saying,
“ that though the latter was essentially mistaken
in his religious system, yet his wisdom in other
respects was indisputably acknowledged!” He judged
well, however, in recommending agriculture and archi-
tecture as studies especially useful in a new country,
and therefore to be preferred for the recreation of the
students. The permission of bathing was restricted,
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 307
to a plunge into a cold bath : bathing in the river
was forbidden; a prohibition apparently so absurd,
that some valid local reason for it must be presumed.
The hours of study were from eight till twelve, and
from three till six; breakfast at eight, dinner at One,
supper at six, prayers at seven, and bed at nine. The
punishments were, private reproof for a first offence,
public reproof for a second, and, for the third, confine-
ment in a room set apart for the purpose.
The establishment was named Cokesbury College”,
after its two founders. An able president was found,
a good master, and, in the course of a few years, the
institution acquired so much repute, that young men
from the Southern States came there to finish their
education ; and the founders were apprised that the
legislature was willing to grant them an act of incor-
poration, and enable them to confer degrees. The
reputation of this college gratified the American
Methodists, and disposed them to found others. The
people in Kentucky requested to have one in their
* In the year 1792 the college was set on fire, and burnt to the
ground, the whole of its apparatus and library being destroyed. The
State offered a reward of one thousand dollars for the discovery of the
incendiary, but without effect. Dr. Coke was not deterred from a se-
cond attempt; and seventeen of his friends, in the Baltimore Society,
immediately subscribed among themselves more than one thousand
pounds towards the establishment of another college. A large building,
in the city of Baltimore, which had been intended for balls and assem-
blies, was purchased, with all the premises belonging to it, for five
thousand three hundred pounds. The Society subscribed seven hundred
of this, and collected six hundred more from house to house : the seventeen
original subscribers made themselves responsible for the rest. There
was room for a church upon the ground, and a church accordingly was
built. This college was even more successful than Cokesbury, while
it lasted; but it came to the same fate, in 1797. Some boys made a
bonfire in an adjoining house ; and college, church, and several dwellings
and warehouses were consumed. By the two fires the Methodists
sustained a loss of ten thousand pounds. Dr. Coke then agreed with
Asbury, who, after the first catastrophe, was convinced “ that it was not
the will of God for them to undertake such expensive buildings, nor to
attempt such popular establishments.” As these events did not occur
till after the death of Mr. Wesley, they are noticed here, rather than in
the text. “
X 2
308 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
country, and offered to give three or four thousand
acres of good land for its support. The reply to this
application was, that Conference would undertake to
complete one within ten years, if the people would
provide five thousand acres of fertile ground, and
settle it on trustees under its direction. In Georgia,
a few leading persons engaged to give two thousand
acres; and one congregation subscribed twelve thou-
sand five hundred pounds weight of tobacco towards
the building. Institutions of this kind are endowed
at so small a cost in new countries, that, with a little
foresight on the part of government, provision might
easily be made for the wants, and palliatives prepared
for the evils, of advanced Society.
Had the institution in Georgia been effected, it was
to have been called Wesley College, in reference to
Mr. Wesley's early labours in that country. At this
time he was so popular in America, that Some hun-
dreds of children were baptized by his name. This
was in great measure owing to the choice which he
had made of Dr. Coke, whose liberal manners, and
rank of life, obtained him access among the higher
classes upon equal terms, and flattered those in a
lower station with whom he made himself familiar.
The good opinion, however, which his representative
had obtained among all ranks was lessened, and for
a time well nigh destroyed, by the indiscretion with
which he exerted himself in behalf of a good cause.
Wesley had borne an early testimony against the
system of negro slavery: on this point his conduct is
curiously contrasted with Whitefield's, who exerted
himself in obtaining a repeal of that part of the
charter granted to the colony in Georgia whereby
slavery was prohibited.” Dr. Coke, feeling like Mr.
* “As for the lawfulness of keeping slaves,” he says, “I have no
doubt, since I hear of some that were bought with Abraham’s money,
and some that were born in his house. And I cannot help thinking
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 309
Wesley, took up the subject with his usual ardour,
preached upon it with great vehemence, and prepared
a petition to Congress for the emancipation of the
negroes. With this petition he and Asbury went to
General Washington at Mount Vernon, and solicited
him to sign it. Washington received them courteously
and hospitably: he declined signing the petition, that
being inconsistent with the rank which he held; but
he assured them that he agreed with them, and that,
if the Assembly should take their petition into consi-
deration, he would signify his sentiments by a letter.
They proceeded so far themselves, that they required
the members of the Society to set their slaves free ;
and several persons were found who made this sacri-
fice, from a sense of duty. One planter in Virginia
emancipated twenty-two, who were at that time worth
from thirty to forty pounds each. His name was
Kennon, and it deserves to be honourably recorded.
But such instances were rare; and Dr. Coke, who had
much of the national ardour in his character, pro-
ceeded in such an intolerant spirit of philanthropy”,
that some of those servants mentioned by the Apostles, in their epistles,
were or had been slaves. It is plain that the Gibeonites were doomed
to perpetual slavery; and, though liberty is a sweet thing to such as are
born free, yet, to those who never knew the sweets of it, slavery per-
haps may not be so irksome. However this be, it is plain to a demon-
stration, that hot countries cannot be cultivated without negroes.” So
miserably could Whitefield reason He flattered, however, his better
feelings, by supposing that the slaves who should be brought into
Georgia would be placed in the way of conversion.
* These extracts from his journal will exemplify.that spirit; “ At
night I lodged at the house of Captain Dillard, a most hospitable man,
and as kind to his negroes as if they were white servants. It was quite
pleasing to see them so decently and comfortably clothed. And yet I
could not beat into the head of that poor man the evil of keeping them
in slavery, although he had read Mr. Wesley's Thoughts on Slavery
(I think he said) three times over. But his good wife is strongly on
our side.”—“I preached the late Colonel Bedford's funeral sermon.
But I said nothing good of him, for he was a violent friend of slavery ;
and his interest being great among the Methodists in these parts, he
would have been a dreadful thorn in our sides, if the Lord had not in
mercy taken him away.” 2/ - - • 4 . . . ;
x 3
310 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
that he soon provoked a violent opposition, and in-
curred no small degree of personal danger. One of his
sermons upon this topic incensed some of his hearers
so much, that they withdrew for the purpose of way-
laying him ; and a lady negro-owner promised them
fifty pounds, if they would give “that little Doctor”
an hundred lashes. But the better part of his con-
gregation protected him, and that same sermon
produced the emancipation of twenty-four slaves. In
one county the slave-owners presented a bill against
him, which was found by the grand jury, and no less
than ninety persons set out in pursuit of him; but he
was got beyond their reach. A more ferocious enemy
followed him, with an intention of shooting him: this
the man himself confessed, when, some time after-
wards, he became a member of the Methodist Society.
On his second visit to America, Coke was convinced
that he had acted indiscreetly, and he consented to let
the question of emancipation rest, rather than stir up
an opposition which so greatly impeded the progress
of Methodism.
If a course of itinerancy in England led the errant
preacher into picturesque scenes and wild situations,
much more might this be expected in America. Coke
was delighted with the romantic way of life in which
he found himself engaged; — preaching in the midst
of ancient forests, “with scores, and sometimes hun-
dreds, of horses tied to the trees.” – “Sometimes,” he
says, “a most noble vista, of half a mile or a mile in
length, would open between the lofty pines; sometimes
the tender fawns and hinds would suddenly appear,
and, on seeing or hearing us, would glance through
the woods, or vanish away.” The spring scenery
of these woods filled him with delight. “The oaks,”
says he, “have spread out their leaves, and the dog-
wood, whose bark is medicinal, and whose innumer-
able white flowers form one of the finest ornaments
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 311
of the forests, is in full blossom. The deep green of
the pines, the bright transparent green of the oaks,
and the fine white of the dogwood flowers, with other
trees and shrubs, form such a complication of beauties
as is indescribable to those who have only lived in
countries that are almost entirely cultivated.” – “It
is one of my most delicate entertainments to embrace
every opportunity of engulfing myself (if I may so
express it) in the woods: I seem then to be detached
from every thing but the quiet vegetable creation and
my God.” A person always went before him to
make his publications; by which strange phrase is
implied a notice to all the country round, in what
place, and at what times, the itinerant was to be
expected. Their mark for finding the way in these
wide wildernesses was the split bush. When a new
circuit in the woods was formed, at every turning of
the road or path, the preacher split two or three
bushes beside the right way, as a direction for those
who came after him.* They had no cause to repent of
their labour in travelling; for numerous hearers were
collected, insomuch that Dr. Coke was astonished at
the pains which the people took to hear the Gospel.
Idleness and curiosity brought many, and many came
for the pleasure of being in a crowd; but numbers
were undoubtedly drawn together by that desire of
religious instruction which is the noblest character-
istic of man, and for which, by the greatest of all
political errors, the American government has ne-
glected to provide. “I am daily filled with surprise,”
he says, “in meeting with such large congregations
as I am favoured with, in the midst of vast wilder-
nesses, and wonder from whence they come !” It
appears that the spirit of riotous devotion, which
afterwards produced the fanatical extravagances of
* “In one of the circuits the wicked discovered the secret, and split
bushes in wrong places, on purpose to deceive the preachers.”
x 4
312. METHODISM IN AMERICA.
the camp-meetings, began to manifest itself in the
early days of American Methodism, and that it was
encouraged by the Superiors, when it might have been
repressed. “At Annapolis,” says Dr. Coke, “after
my last prayer, the congregation began to pray and
praise aloud in a most astonishing manner. At first
I found some reluctance to enter into the business;
but soon the tears began to flow, and I think I have
seldom found a more comforting or strengthening
time. This praying and praising aloud is a common
thing throughout Virginia and Maryland. What
shall we say? Souls are awakened and converted by
multitudes; and the work is surely a genuine work,
if there be a genuine work of God upon earth.
Whether there be wildfire in it, or not, I do most
ardently wish that there was such a work at this
present time in England.” At Baltimore, after the
evening service was concluded, “the congregation
began to pray and praise aloud, and continued so to
do, till two o'clock in the morning. Out of a con-
gregation of two thousand people, two or three
hundred were engaged at the same time in praising
God, praying for the conviction and conversion of
sinners, or exhorting those around them with the ut-
most vehemence; and hundreds more were engaged in
wrestling prayer, either for their own conversion, or
sanctification. The first noise of the people soon
brought a multitude to see what was going on. One
of our elders was the means that night of the con-
version of seven poor penitents within his little circle
in less than fifteen minutes. Such was the zeal of
many, that a tolerable company attended the preach-
ing at five the next morning, notwithstanding the late
hour at which they parted.” The next evening the
same uproar was renewed, and the maddened con-
gregation continued in their excesses as long and as
loud as before. The practice became common in
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 313
Baltimore, though that city had been one of the
“calmest and most critical” upon the continent. —
“Many of our elders,” says Coke, “who were the
softest, most connected, and most sedate of our
preachers, have entered with all their hearts into this
work. And gracious and wonderful has been the
change, our greatest enemies themselves being the
judges, that has been wrought on multitudes, on whom
the work began at those wonderful seasons.” - -
Blainly as it had been shown among the Methodists
themselves, that emotions of this kind were like a fire
of straw, soon kindled and soon spent, the disposition,
whenever it manifested itself, was encouraged rather
than checked; so strong is the tendency towards en-
thusiasm. But if Dr. Coke, with the advantages of
education, rank in life, and of the lessons which he
derived from Mr. Wesley, when age and long ex-
perience had cooled him, could be so led away by
sympathy as to give his sanction to these proceedings,
it might be expected that preachers who had grown
up in a state of semi-civilisation, and were in the first
effervescence of their devotional feelings, would go
beyond all bounds in their zeal. They used their
utmost endeavours, (as had been advised in the third
Conference) “to throw men into convictions, into
strong sorrow, and fear, – to make them inconsolable,
refusing to be comforted; ” believing that the stronger
was the conviction, the speedier was the deliverance.
“The darkest time in the night,” said one, “is just
before the dawning of the day: so it is with a soul
groaning for redemption.” They used, therefore, to
address the unawakened in the most alarming strain,
teaching them that “God out of Christ is a consuming
fire!”* and to address the most enthusiastic language
* In what sense the Methodist divines employed or applied these
words, I know not : but that the words express a most aweful truth,
314 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
to those who were in what they called a seeking state,
in order to keep them “on the full stretch for sanctifi-
cation.” Benjamin Abbott not only threw his hearers
into fits, but often fainted himself through the ve-
hemence of his own prayers and preachments. He
relates such exploits with great Satisfaction, — how
one person could neither eat nor drink for three days
after one of his drastic sermons; and how another
was, for the same length of time, totally deprived of
the use of her limbs. A youth who was standing on
the hearth beside a blazing fire, in the room where
Abbott was holding forth, overcome by the contagious
emotion which was excited, tottered and fell into the
flames. He was instantly rescued, “providentially,”
says the preacher, “ or he would have been beyond
the reach of mercy: his body would have been burned
to death, and what would have become of his soul | *
When they preached within the house, and with closed
doors, the contaminated air may have contributed to
these deleterious effects; for he himself notices one
instance, where, from the exceeding closeness of the
room, and the number of persons crowded together
there, the candles gradually went out. But the mad-
dening spirit of the man excited his hearers almost to
frenzy.
• One day this itinerant went to a funeral, where
many hundreds were collected. “The minister,” he
says, “being of the Church form, went through the
ceremonies, and then preached a short, easy, smooth,
soft sermon, which amounted to almost nothing. By
this time a gust was rising, and the firmament was
covered with blackness. Two clouds appeared to come
from different quarters, and to meet over the house,
and are capable of a most terrific application, I am deeply assured.—
S. T. C. . - - -
What mean the royal Psalmist's words, “If I descend into hell,
‘thou art there also P”—S. T. C. - - . -
METHODISM IN AMERICA. - 315
which caused the people to crowd into the house, up
stairs and down, to screen themselves from the storm.
When the minister had done, he asked me if I would
say something to the people. I arose, and with some
difficulty got on one of the benches, the house was so
greatly crowded; and almost as soon as I began, the
Lord out of heaven began also. The tremendous
claps of thunder exceeded any thing I ever had heard,
and the streams of lightning flashed through the house
in a most aweful manner. It shook the very foundation
of the house: the windows shook with the violence
thereof. I lost no time, but set before them the aweful
coming of Christ in all his splendour, with all the
armies of heaven, to judge the world, and to take
vehgeance on the ungodly. It may be, cried I, that
he will descend in the next clap of thunder The
people screamed, screeched, and fell, all through the
house. The lightning, thunder, and rain, continued
for about the space of one hour, in the most aweful
manner ever known in that country; during which
time I continued to set before them the coming of
Christ to judge the world, warning and inviting
sinners to flee to Christ.” He declares that, fourteen
years afterwards, when he rode that circuit, he con-
versed with twelve living witnesses who told him they
were all converted at that sermon.
One day, when Abbott was exhorting a class to
Sanctification, and a young Quakeress was “screaming
and screeching, and crying for purity of heart,” her
father, hearing her outcries, came into the room, and
with a mild reproof to this director of consciences,
reminded him that the Lord is not in the earthquake,
nor in the whirlwind, but in the still small voice.
The passionate enthusiast readily replied *, “Do you
* And pertinently: though it would perhaps have been a reply bet-
ter suited to the reprover, had Abbott said, “True, Friend but yet it
316 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
know what the earthquake means ? It is the mighty
thunder of God's voice from Mount Sinai ; it is
the Divine law to drive us to Christ. And the
whirlwind is the power of conviction, like the rushing
of a mighty wind, tearing away every false hope, and
stripping us of every plea, but — Give me Christ, or
else I die!” On another occasion, when a young
Quakeress was present at a meeting, and retained a
proper command of herself while others were fainting
and falling round about her, Abbott regarding this as
a proof of insensibility to the state of her own soul,
looked her full in the face, and began to pray for her
as an infidel, and called upon all his hearers to do the
same. The young woman was abashed, and retired;
but as she made her way slowly through the crowded
room, “I cried to God,” says the fiery fanatic,” “to
pursue her by the energy of his Spirit through the
streets; to pursue her in the parlour, in the kitchen,
and in the garden ; to pursue her in the silent watches
of the night, and to show her the state of the damned
in hell; to give her no rest day nor night, until she
found rest in the wounds of a blessed Redeemer.” He
relates this himself, and adds, that in consequence of
this appeal she soon afterwards joined the Methodists,
in opposition to the will of her parents.
“Oh,” said Wesley, in one of his sermons, “the
depth both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
causing a total disregard of all religion to pave the
way for the revival of the only religion which was
worthy of God! The total indifference of the govern-
ment in North America, whether there be any religion
was by God’s ordinance that the earthquake and the whirlwind should
go before the still small voice ſ” — S. T. C.
* His journal is among the books “ sold at the Primitive Methodist
Book-room, and by the Preachers;” and in the list of those books he is
designated as the “Great American Preacher and Revivalist.” -
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 317
or none, leaves room for the propagation of true scrip-
tural religion, without the least let or hindrance.”
He overlooked another consequence, which the ex-
travagance of his own preachers might have taught
him. Wherever the prime duty of providing religious
instruction for the people is neglected, the greater part
become altogether careless of their eternal interests,
and the rest are ready to imbibe the rankest fanaticism,
or embrace any superstition that may be promulgated
among them. A field is open for impostors as well as
fanatics; some are duped and plundered, and others
are driven mad. Benjamin Abbott seems to have
been a sincere and well-meaning enthusiast, upon the
very verge of madness himself. From the preaching
of such men an increase of insanity might well be
expected; and accordingly it is asserted, that a fourth
part of the cases of this malady in Philadelphia arise
from enthusiastic devotion, and that this and the
abuse of ardent spirits are principal causes of the same
disease in Virginia. But the fermentation of Method-
ism will cease in America, as it has ceased in England;
and even during its effervescence, the good which it
produces is greater than the evil. For though there
must be many such fierce fanatics as Abbott, there
will be others of a gentler nature: as the general
state of the country may improve, the preachers will
partake of the improvement; and, meantime, they con-
tribute to that improvement in no slight degree, by
correcting the brutal vices, and keeping up a sense of
religion in regions where it might otherwise be ex-
tinct. At their first general Conference, the American
preachers made a rule respecting spirituous liquors,
the common use of which has greatly tended to
brutalise the people in that country. They decreed,
that if any thing disorderly happened under the roof
of a member, who either sold ardent spirits or gave
them to his guests, “the preacher who had the over-
3.18 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
sight of the circuit should proceed against him, as in
the case of other immoralities,” and he should be cen-
sured, suspended, or excluded, according to the cir-
cumstances. The zeal with which they made war
against the pomps and vanities of society was less
usefully directed. “Such days and nights as those
were !” says one of the early preachers. “The fine,
the gay, threw off their ruffles, their rings, their ear-
rings, their powder, their feathers. Opposition, indeed,
there was ; for the Devil would not be still. My life
was threatened; but my friends were abundantly
more in number than my enemies.” In attacking
these things, the preacher acted in entire conformity
with the spirit of Wesley's institutions: but in
America, Wesley would perhaps have modified the
rigour of his own rules; for even Franklin, who long
maintained opinions as rigorous upon this point as
Wesley himself, at length discovered that vanities like
these have their use, in giving a spur to industry, and
accelerating the progress of civilisation.
There were parts of the country where the people
must have remained altogether without the ordinances
of religion, had it not been for the Methodists. Dr.
Coke observes that in his first tour in America, he
baptized more children and adults than he should
have done in his whole life if stationed in an English
parish. The people of Delaware had scarcely ever
heard preaching of any kind, when Freeborn Garret-
son entered that country in one of his circuits. Meet-
ing a man there one day, he asked him in a metho-
distical manner, if he knew Jesus Christ; , and the
man answered, that he did not know where he lived.
Garretson repeated the question, supposing that it
had not been distinctly heard; and the reply then
was, that he knew no such person. Before the
Methodists had built chapels for themselves, they
officiated sometimes in curious situations, either be-
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 319
cause there was no place of worship, or none to which
they had access. The church-doors at Cambridge, in
Maryland, were locked upon Dr. Coke, though there
had been no service there for some years, and though
it had often been left open for dogs, and pigs, and
cattle. At another place, the church was in so filthy
a condition, that, at the people's desire, he held forth
in the court-house instead. At Raleigh, the seat of
government for North Carolina, he obtained the use of
the House of Commons: the members of both houses
attended, and the speaker's seat served for a pulpit.
At Annapolis, they lent him the theatre. “Pit,
boxes, and gallery,” says he, “were filled with people,
according to their ranks in life; and I stood upon the
stage, and preached to them, though at first, I con-
fess, I felt it a little awkward.”
Itinerants in America were liable to discomforts
and dangers which are unknown in England. There
were perilous swamps to cross ; rivers to ford; the
risk of going astray in the wilderness”; and the
plague of ticks in the forests, which are so great a
torment, that Dr. Coke was almost laid up by their
bites. To these difficulties, and to the inconveniences
of sometimes sleeping on the floor, sometimes three
in a bed, and sometimes bivouacking in the woods,
the native preachers were less sensible than those
who came from Europe; but a great proportion of
the itinerants settled when they became fathers of
families. “It is most lamentable,” says Coke, “to
* Brother Ignatius Pigman was lost for sixteen days in the woods on
the way to Kentucky. This inhuman name reminds me of a contro-
versialist, who advanced the notion of the pre-existence of the human
soul of Christ, and fiercely supported his notion, which he called Pre-
existarianism, in the last series of the Gospel Magazine. His name
being Newcomb, he signed himself Peigneneuve, to show his knowledge
of the French tongue; and one of his adversaries, who, if peradven-
ture less accomplished in languages, was not less witty than himself,
“wickedly distorted ” this word, and called him Mr. Pig-enough. . .
320 METHODISM IN AMERICA.
see so many of our able married preachers (or rather,
I might say, almost all of them,) become located
merely for want of support for their families. I am
conscious it is not the fault of the people: it is the
fault of the preachers, who, through a false and most
unfortunate delicacy, have not pressed the important
subject as they ought upon the consciences of the
people. I am truly astonished that the work has risen
to its present height on this continent, when so much
of the spirit of prophecy, of the gifts of preaching, yea,
of the most precious gifts which God bestows on mor-
tals, should thus miserably be thrown away. I could,
methinks, enter into my closet, and weep tears of
blood upon the occasion.” At another time he says,
“The location of so many scores of our most able
and experienced preachers tears my very heart in
pieces. Methinks, almost the whole continent would
have fallen before the power of God, had it not been
for this enormous evil.” Dr. Coke himself had the
true spirit of an errant preacher, and therefore did
not consider how natural it is that men should desire
to settle quietly in domestic life, and how just and
reasonable it is that they should be enabled and en-
couraged to do so after a certain length of service.
Mr. Wesley's original intention was, that the Method-
ist preachers should be auxiliaries to the Church of
England, as the friars and the Jesuits are to the
Church of Rome. In America, where there is no
church, it would be consistent with this intention,
that the Methodists should have an order of settled
pastors in place of the clergy. -
But though the American itinerants withdrew from
their labours earlier than their brethren in the mother
country, new adventurers were continually offering
themselves to supply their place, and the increase of
Methodism was far more rapid than in England. In
the year 1786, two-and-twenty chapels were built in
METHODISM IN AMERICA. 321
a single circuit within the State of South Carolina,
and the Society in that same year had added to its
numbers in the United States more than 6600 mem-
bers. In 1789, when the census of the Methodists in
Great Britain amounted to 70,305, that in America
was 43,265. In less than twenty years afterwards
they doubled their numbers at home; but the Ameri-
cans had then become the more numerous body, and
their comparative increase was much greater than
this statement would imply, because it was made upon
a much smaller population,
WOL. II. Y
322
CHAPTER XXVIII.
METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES.
IN the year 1758, Wesley baptized some negroes at
Wandsworth, who were in the service of Nathaniel
Gilbert, Speaker of the House of Assembly in Antigua.
Mr. Gilbert was a man of ardent piety, and being
desirous of promoting religion in a part of the world
where slavery had produced the greatest possible
degradation of the moral feeling, he invited Mr.
Fletcher to return with him. Mr. Fletcher hesitated,
and consulted Charles Wesley: “I have weighed the
matter,” said he ; “but, on one hand, I feel that I
have neither sufficient zeal, nor grace, nor talents, to
expose myself to the temptations and labours of a
mission to the West Indies; and, on the other, I be-
lieve that if God call me thither, the time is not yet
come. I wish to be certain that I am converted my-
self, before I leave my converted brethren, to convert
heathens. Pray let me know what you think of this
business. If you condemn me to put the sea between
us, the command would be a hard one; but I might
possibly prevail on myself to give you that proof of
the deference I pay to your judicious advice.” That
proof was not exacted. Fletcher remained in Eng-
land, where he rendered more essential service to
Methodism, by his writings, than he could have done
as a missionary; and Mr. Gilbert returned to Antigua
without any minister or preacher in his company.
Being, however, enthusiastic by constitution, as well
as devout by principle, he prayed and preached in his
own house to such persons as would assemble to hear
METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES. 323
him on Sundays; and, encouraged by the facility of
which he found himself possessed, and the success
with which these beginnings were attended, he went
forth and preached to the negroes. This conduct
drew upon him contempt, or compassion, according
as it was imputed to folly or to insanity.” But he
had his reward: the poor negroes listened willingly
to the consolations of Christianity, and he lived to
form some two hundred persons into a Methodist
Society, according to Mr. Wesley's rules.
After Mr. Gilbert's death the black people were
kept together by two negresses, who prayed to them
when they assembled, and preserved among them the
forms of the Society as far as they could, and the
spirit of devotion. In the year 1778, a shipwright,
by name John Baxter, who was in the king's service,
removed from the royal docks at Chatham to English
Harbour in Antigua, and, happily for himself and the
poor negroes, he survived his removal to one of the
most fatal places in all those islands. He had been
for some years a leader among the Methodists, and
upon his arrival, he took upon himself immediately,
as far as his occupation would allow, the management
of the Society. His Sundays he devoted entirely
to them; and on the other days of the week, after
his day's work was done, he rode about to the differ-
ent plantations, to instruct and exhort the slaves,
* A son of Mr. Gilbert published, in the year 1796, “The Hurri-
cane, a Theosophical and Western Eclogue,” and shortly afterwards
placarded the walls in London with the largest bills that had at that
time been seen, announcing the “The Law of Fire.” I knew him
well, and look back with a melancholy pleasure to the hours which I
have past in his society, when his mind was in ruins. His madness
was of the most incomprehensible kind, as may be seem in the notes to
the Hurricane; but the poem contains passages of exquisite beauty. I
have among my papers some curious memorials of this interesting man.
They who remember him (as some of my readers will) will not be dis-
pleased at seeing him thus mentioned with the respect and regret which
are due to the wreck of a noble mind. º -
Y 2
324 METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES.
when they also were at rest from their labour. Some
of them would come three or four miles to hear him.
He found it hard to flesh and blood, he said, to work
all day, and then ride ten miles at night to preach ;
but the motive supported him, and he was probably
the happiest man upon the island. He married, and
thereby established himself there. The contributions
of his hearers, though he was the only white man in
the Society, enabled him to build a chapel. He wrote
to Mr. Wesley from time to time, requested his di-
rections, and expressed a hope that some one would
come to his assistance. “The old standers,” said
he, “desire me to inform you that you have many
children in Antigua, whom you never saw.”
Baxter was, after a while, assisted by an English
woman, who having an annuity charged upon an
estate in the island, had found it necessary to reside
there. She opened her house for prayers every day,
and set apart one evening every week for reading the
Scriptures, to all who would hear. These meetings
were much frequented; “for the English,” says this
lady, “can scarcely conceive the hunger and thirst
expressed by a poor negro, when he has learned that
the soul is immortal, and is under the operation of
awakening influences.” Further assistance arrived in
a manner remarkable enough to deserve relation. An
old man and his wife at Waterford, being past their
labour, were supported by two of their sons. They
were Methodists: the children had been religiously
brought up, and in their old age the parents found
the benefit of having trained them in the way they
should go. At the close of the American war, America
was represented to the two sons as a land flowing
with milk and honey, and they were advised to
emigrate. Go they would not, without the consent of
their parents; and the old people entreated them to
wait a little, till they should be in the grave: the
METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES. 325
youths, however, unwilling to wait, and incapable of
forsaking their parents, proposed that they should go
together, and succeeded in persuading them. Having
no means of paying for their passage, the poor lads
indented themselves to the captain of a ship, who was
collecting white slaves for the Virginia market; and
as the old people could be of no use as bond-servants,
the boys were bound for a double term on their ac-
count. How the parents, incapable as they were of
supporting themselves, were to be supported in a
strange land, when their children were in bondage,
was a question which never occurred to any one of
the family. A married son and his wife came on
board to take leave, and they were persuaded by their
relations and by the crimping skipper to join the
party upon the same terms. No sooner had they
sailed than they were made to feel the bitterness of
their condition: slaves they had made themselves,
and like slaves they were treated by the white slave-
monger who had entrapped them. Happily for them,
after a miserable voyage, the ship was driven to the
West Indies, and put into Antigua like a floating
wreck, almost by miracle. The old Irishman, hear-
ing that there were Methodists on the island, inquired
for the preaching-house, and Methodism proved more
advantageous to him than free-masonry would have
done. It procured him real and active friends, who
ransomed the whole family. Good situations were
procured for the three sons: the old man acted under
Baxter; being well acquainted with the routine of
the society, he was of great use; and by the year
1786 the persons under their spiritul care amounted
to nearly two thousand, chiefly negroes.
In that year Dr. Coke embarked upon his second
voyage to America. The season was stormy, and the
captain being one of those persons who have a great
deal of superstition without the slightest piety, con-
Y 3
326 METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES.
ceived that the continuance of bad weather was
brought on by the praying and preaching of the
Doctor and his companions. One day, therefore, in
the force of the tempest, while these passengers were
fervently praying for the preservation of the ship
and of the lives of all on board, the skipper paraded
the deck in great agitation, muttering to himself, but
so as to be distinctly heard, “We have a Jonah on
board | We have a Jonah on board l’” — till, having
worked himself almost into a state of madness, he
burst into Coke's cabin, seized his books and writings,
and tossed them into the sea; and, griping the Doctor
himself, who was a man of diminutive stature, swore
that if ever he made another prayer on board that
ship he would throw him overboard, after his papers.
At length the vessel, after imminent danger, succeeded
in reaching Antigua. It was on Christmas-day. Dr.
Coke went in search of Mr. Baxter, and met him on
the way to officiate at the chapel. To the latter this
event was as joyful as it was unexpected: the former
performed the service for him, and administered the
sacrament. He was delighted with the appearance
of the congregation, one of the cleanest, he said, that
he had ever seen. The negresses were dressed in
white linen gowns, petticoats, handkerchiefs, and
caps; and their whole dress, which was beautifully
clean, appeared the whiter from the contrast of their
skins.
Dr. Coke's arrival occasioned a considerable stir in
the capital of this little island. He preached twice
a-day, and curiosity brought such numbers to hear
him, that in the evenings the poor negroes, who by
their savings had built the chapel, could find no room
in it. The good effect of Methodism upon the slaves
had been so apparent, that it was no longer necessary,
as it formerly had been, to enforce military law during
the holidays which were allowed them at Christmas.
METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES. 327
They were made better servants, as they were in-
structed in their moral and religious duties. Me-
thodism, therefore, was in high favour there; and Dr.
Coke was informed, that if five hundred a-year would
detain him in Antigua, it should be forthcoming.
“God be praised,” he says, “five hundred thousand
a-year would be to me a feather, when opposed to my
usefulness in the Church of Christ.” He and his com-
panions were hospitably entertained and treated, he
says, rather like princes than subjects; and the com-
pany of merchants invited them to a dinner which
was given to Prince William Henry. -
Here Dr. Coke held what he calls an Infant Confer-
ence. Invitations for the preachers came from St.
Vincent's ; and recommendatory letters were given
them to the islands of St. Eustatius and St. Kitt's.
“All is of God,” said Coke; “I have no doubt but it
would be an open resistance to the clear providences
of the Almighty to remove any one of the missionaries
at present from this country.” Of the three who had
embarked with him from England for America, it was
determined that one should remain in Antigua; and
Baxter gave up the place which he held under govern-
ment, and which was worth 400l. a-year currency, that
he might devote his whole strength and time to the
spiritual service of his fellow-creatures. His wife,
though a creole, well born, and delicately brought up,
readily consented to this sacrifice, and cheerfully sub-
mitted to her part of the discomforts and privations
inseparable from an itinerant life; for even among the
islands itinerancy was considered as an essential part
of the Methodist economy. Leaving, therefore, Mr.
Warrenner in Antigua, Coke departed, with Baxter
and the other two brothers, to reconnoitre the neigh-
bouring islands. They were hospitably entertained at
Dominica, at St. Vincent's, Nevis, and St. Kitt's; and
though the commanding officer would not give per-
Y 4
328 METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES.
mission for preaching in the barracks at St. Vincent's,
where some religious soldiers would soon have formed
a society, Dr. Coke thought the general prospect so
encouraging that he said the will of God, in respect
to the appointment of a Missionary there, was as clear
as if it had been written with a sunbeam. Mr. Clarke
accordingly was stationed there, and Mr. Hammet at
St. Kitt's. - -
When they arrived at St. Eustatius, they found that
a slave, by name Harry, who had been a member of
the Methodist Society in America, had taken to ex-
horting in that island, and had been silenced by the
governor, because the slaves were so affected at hearing
him, that “many fell down as if they were dead, and
some remained in a state of stupor during several
hours.” Sixteen persons had been thrown into these
fits in one night. This was a case in which the gover-
nor's interference was perfectly justifiable and right.”
The day after this event, Coke and his companions
landed, and waited upon the persons in authority.
They soon found that the degree of freedom which is
every where enjoyed under the British government,
is not to be found in the dominions of any other Eu-
ropean power. They were ordered to prepare their con-
fession of faith and credentials, and to present them
to the court, and to be private in their devotions, till
the court had considered whether their religion should
be tolerated or not. The council were satisfied with
the confession, and Dr. Coke was desired to preach
before them. But it was evident that the government
would not permit the establishment of an English
mission upon that island, though the inhabitants were
* I should not have dared assert this so positively. I rather think
it might have been wiser in the governor to have waited for the result
at the end of a week. Should the poor negroes have become quiet,
industrious servants, the fits would have been a cheap purchase. —
S. T. C. - - - - - -
METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES. 329
exceedingly desirous of it. Dr. Coke, during a fort-
night's stay, did what he could towards forming such
as were willing into classes, and instructing them in
the forms of Methodism, and was laden with presents
of sea-stores and other refreshments, when he em-
barked from thence to pursue his voyage to America.
So fair a beginning was thus made, that from that
time it became as regular a part of business for the
Conference to provide for the West Indies, as for any
part of Great Britain in which societies had been raised.
In the autumn of 1788, the indefatigable Coke (who
may properly be called the Xavier of Methodism)
sailed a third time for the Western World, taking with
him three missionaries intended for the Columbian
Islands. They were embarked in that unfortunate
ship the Hankey, which has been accused of importing,
in a subsequent voyage, the yellow fever from Bulama
to the West Indies, as if that pestilence were not the
growth of those countries. Every thing was favour-
able now, and the missionaries succeeded so well in
conciliating the good will of the crew, that when they
took leave of them at Barbadoes, many of the men
were in tears, and the sailors bade them farewell with
three hearty cheers as the boat dropped astern. Coke
with his companions landed at Bridgetown, as adven-
turously as ever knight-errant set foot upon an island
with his squire and his dwarf. None of the party
supposed that they had a single acquaintance in Bar-
badoes. There were, however, some soldiers there,
who had been quartered at Kinsale in Ireland, where
Mr. Pearce, one of the missionaries, had preached: he
was presently recognised by a serjeant, who embraced
him without ceremony; and it appeared that this
serjeant and some of his comrades had kept up the
forms of Methodism, and were in the habit of exhorting
the people in a warehouse which a friendly merchant
had lent them for that purpose. Before Dr. Coke
330 METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES,
could wait upon this merchant, he received an invita-
tion to breakfast with him: he proved to have been
one of his hearers in America, where four of his negroes
had been baptized by the Doctor. The missionaries
were immediately received into his house: they were
encouraged by the governor, and by the merchants
and planters to whom they were introduced. Pearce
was left upon the island; and Coke, having placed
everything in as favourable a train as could be wished,
proceeded to St. Vincent's, whither the other two mis-
sionaries had preceded him, and where he was joined
by Baxter. One of the party was stationed there, to
assist the former preacher; and Baxter and his wife
willingly consented to take up their abode among the
Caribs, and endeavour at the same time to civilise and
to convert them. -
Continuing his circuit, Dr. Coke formed a society
at Dominica, and finding all prosperous at Antigua
and St. Kitt's, visited St. Eustatius. Here he found
that the aspects were different. The black Harry,
after the Doctor's departure from his former visit, in-
terpreting the governor's prohibition according to the
letter rather than the spirit, abstained indeed from
preaching to his fellow-slaves, but ventured to pray
with them. For this offence he was publicly whipped
and imprisoned, and then banished from the island.
And an edict was issued, declaring, that if any white
person should be found praying with others who were
not of his family, he should be fined fifty pieces of
eight for the first offence, a hundred for the second,
and for the third offence he should be whipped, his
goods confiscated, and himself banished the island.
A free man of colour was to receive thirty-nine stripes
for the first offence, and for the second to be flogged
and banished; and a slave was to be flogged every
time he was found offending. “This, I think,” says
Dr. Coke, “is the first instance, known among man-
METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES. 331
kind, of a persecution openly avowed against religion
itself. The persecutions among the heathens were
supported under the pretence that the Christians
brought in strange gods; those among the Roman
Catholics were under the pretext of the Protestants
introducing heresies into the Church; but this is openly
and avowedly against prayer, the great key to every
blessing.” Notwithstanding this edict, and the rigour
with which this edict was enforced, so strong was the
desire of the poor people on this island for religious
instruction and religious sympathy, that Dr. Coke
found above two hundred and fifty persons there
classed as Methodists, and baptized a hundred and
forty of them. He remained there only one night;
but the sloop which he had hired to carry him and his
companions to St. Kitt's, having received much da-
mage by striking against a ship, they were obliged to
return; and Coke, who interpreted this accident as a
plain declaration of Providence, whereby he was called
on to bear a public testimony for Christ, immediately
hired a large room for a month. Whatever danger
might be incurred would fall upon himself, he thought,
by this proceeding; whereas his friends would have
been amenable to the laws if he had preached in their
houses. The next day, therefore, he boldly performed
service, and gave notice that he intended to officiate
again on the morrow. But Dutch governors are not
persons who will suffer their authority to be set at
nought with impunity; and on the ensuing morning
the Doctor received a message from the governor, re-
quiring him, and two of his companions, who were
specified by name, to engage that they would not,
publicly or privately, by day or by night, preach either
to whites or blacks, during their stay in that island,
on pain of prosecution, arbitrary punishment, and
banishment. “We withdrew to consult,” says he:
“and after considering that we were favoured by
332 METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES.
Providence with an open door in other islands for as
many missionaries as we could spare; and that God
was carrying on his blessed work even in this island
by means of secret class-meetings; and that Divine
Providence may in future redress these grievances by
a change of the governor, or by the interference of the
superior powers in Holland in some other way, we
gave for answer, that we would obey the government;
and, having nothing more at present to do in that
place of tyranny, oppression, and wrong, we returned
to St. Kitt's, blessing God for a British constitution
and a British government.”
There was in Dr. Coke's company a third missionary,
by name Brazier, whom the governor had not heard
of, and who therefore was not included in the mandate.
He thought himself perfectly justified in leaving this
missionary upon the island. There were times in
which such an experiment might have cost the con-
traband preacher his life; and if the governor had
been as eager to persecute as Coke supposed him to
be, Brazier would certainly not have got off with a
whole skin. The truth seems to be, that the governor's
interference had in the first instance been necessary.
Harry's preaching was of that kind which ought not
to be tolerated, because it threw his hearers into fits.
If Dr. Coke, on his first landing, had distinctly ex-
pressed his disapprobation of such excesses, things
might possibly have taken a different turn. But he
had learned to regard them as the outward signs and
manifestations of inward grace; and the governor,
seeing that the black preacher was acknowledged by
him as a fellow-labourer, regarded him and his com-
panions as troublesome fanatics, and treated them ac-
cordingly. And when he discovered that Brazier had
been clandestinely left behind, he behaved with more
temper than might have been expected, in merely or-
dering him to leave the island. A man in power, who
METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES. 333
retained something of the religious part of the old
Dutch character, removed the banished missionary to
the little island of Saba, a dependency upon St. Eus-
tatius, containing about three thousand inhabitants, of
whom one third were whites. There was a respect-
able church there; but the people had been seventeen
years without a minister. They received Brazier with
the greatest joy; and governor, council, and people
entreated him to take up his abode among them, offer-
ing him the church, the parsonage, and a sufficient
maintenance. Coke went there, and was delighted
with the kindness and simplicity of the people. He
informed them what the economy of the Methodists
was, and particularly explained to them what he called
the “grand and indispensable custom of changing their
ministers.” They were willing to comply with every
thing; and though Brazier had been ordered by the
Conference to Jamaica, Dr. Coke consented to leave
him at Saba. But when the governor of St. Eustatius
knew where he was, he compelled the government to
dismiss him, though with sorrow and reluctance on
their part. • * • * -
Two missionaries had been appointed to Jamaica;
but Coke having thus disposed of the one, left the
other to divide his labours between Tortola and Santa
Cruz (on which little island the Danish governor
promised him all the encouragement in his power),
and proceeded to Jamaica alone, merely to prepare
the way. Some of the higher orders, being drunk at
the time, insulted him while he was preaching at
Kingston, and would have offered some personal in-
dignities to him, if they had not been controlled by
the great majority of the congregation: but on the
whole he was so well received and hospitably enter-
tained, that he says, in honour of the island, he never
visited any place, either in Europe or America, where
Methodism had not taken root, in which he received
334 METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES.
so many civilities as in Jamaica. He went therefrom
to America, and from thence returned to England, in
full persuasion that the prospects of the Society, both
in Jamaica and the Leeward Islands, were as favour-
able as could be desired.
The cost of this spiritual colonisation now became
serious; for the resources of the Connection did not
keep pace with its progress and its necessarily in-
creased expenditure. The missions could not be
supported unless separate funds were raised for the
purpose; and those funds could only be drawn from
voluntary contributions. By the request of the Con-
ference, Dr. Coke (never so happy as when he was
most actively employed in such service) made a tour
of sixteen months in the United Kingdom, preaching
in behalf of the negroes, for whom these missions
were especially designed ; and collecting money by
these means, and by personal application to such as
were likely to contribute; going himself from door
to door.” The rebuffs which he frequently met with,
did not deter him from the work which he had
undertaken ; and he obtained enough to discharge
the whole debt which had been contracted on this
account, and to proceed with the missions upon an
extended scale. In the autumn of 1790, he made a
third voyage to the Columbian Islands. A chapel
had been built at Barbadoes, during his absence,
capable of holding some seven hundred persons ; but
the hopes of those by whom this building had been
directed, had been greater than their foresight.
* A captain in the navy, from whom he obtained a subscription,
calling upon an acquaintance of Coke's the same morning, said: “Do
you know any thing of a little fellow who calls himself Dr. Coke, and
who is going about begging money for missionaries to be sent among
the slaves P’ “I know him well,” was the reply. “He seems,” re-
joined the captain, “to be a heavenly-minded little devil. He coaxed
me out of two guineas this morning.”— Drew's Life of Dr. Coke,
p. 388.
METHOIDISM IN THE WEST INDIES. 335
Though the curate at Bridgetown, Mr. Dent, was the
only clergyman in all the islands who countenanced
the Methodists, and was heartily glad at receiving
from them the assistance which he wanted; though
the governor was not unfavourable to them, and they
had begun under such favourable appearances, the
preacher had become obnoxious; the nickname of
Hallelujahs had been fixed upon his followers, and
they had undergone that sort of opposition which
they dignify by the name of persecution. Persecu-
tion, in the true sense of the word, they have since
that time suffered in some of the islands; but in these
instances the missionary seems to have been protected
by the magistrates when he appealed for redress. At
St. Vincent's, the attempt to civilise the Caribs had
altogether failed. This was owing to the French
priests at Martinico. The French missionaries have
rendered themselves liable to the heavy accusation of
sacrificing the interests of Christianity to the political
views of their country. Of this their conduct in
Canada affords scandalous proofs; and on the present
occasion they acted in the same manner. They per-
suaded the Caribs, who went to Martinico on one of
their trading visits, that the Methodists were spies,
whom the king of England had sent to explore their
land ; and as soon as they had finished their errand,
they would retire, and an army would be sent to con-
quer the country. The Caribs had regarded Baxter
as their father, till they were deceived by this vil-
lainous artifice. They then behaved so sullenly to-
wards him, that he thought it advisable to hasten
with his wife out of their power. When Mrs. Baxter
took leave of these poor Savages, to whose instruction
she had vainly devoted herself, she wept bitterly, and
prayed that they might have another call, and might
not reject it as they had done this. But among the
other casts upon the island the preachers were well
336 METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES.
received. The negroes, who in Barbadoes were
remarkably indifferent to religious instruction, here
were exceedingly desirous of it; and even the Catholic
families showed favour to the missionaries, and sent
for Baxter to baptize their children. The prospect
was still more favourable at Grenada. Mr. Dent had
recently been presented to the living of St. George's
in that island: and the governor, General Matthews,
requested Dr. Coke to send missionaries there, saying
it was his wish that the negroes should be fully in-
structed, and there would be work enough for their
preachers and for the clergy of the island too. .
The Methodists were increasing in Antigua: but
here a symptom appeared of that enthusiasm of which
it is so difficult for Methodism to clear itself, sanc-
tioned as it has been by Wesley. At the baptism of
some adults, one of them was so overcome by her
feelings that she fell into a swoon ; and Dr. Coke,
instead of regarding this as a disorder, and impressing
upon his disciples the duty of controlling their emo-
tions, spoke of it as a memorable thing, and with
evident satisfaction related that, as she lay entranced
with an enraptured countenance, all she said for some
time was, Heaven Heaven Come ! Come! It re-
quires more charity and more discrimination than
the majority of men possess, not to suspect either the
sincerity or the sanity of persons who aim at pro-
ducing effects like this by their ministry, or exult in
them when they are produced. Not deterred by his
former ill success at St. Eustatius, Coke, with the
perseverance that characterised him in all his under-
takings, made a third visit there, and waited upon
the new governor, who had recently arrived from
Holland. The Dutchman, he says, received him with
very great rudeness indeed; but he ought to have
considered it as an act of courtesy that he was not
immediately sent off the island. The Methodists
METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES. 337
there were in the habit of regularly holding their
class-meetings; and notwithstanding the edict, there
were no fewer than eight eahorters among them. One
of these persons called upon the Doctor, requested
him to correspond with them, and promised, in the
name of his fellows, punctually to obey all the direc-
tions which should be given them concerning the
management of the Society. He told him also that
many of the free blacks of both sexes intended going
to St. Kitt's to receive the sacrament, at Christmas,
from one of the missionaries. Here Dr. Coke met
with another instance, which, if he had been capable
of learning that lesson, might have taught him how
dangerous it is to excite an enthusiastic spirit of
religion. The person who, on his former visits, had
entertained him with true hospitality, was in the very
depth of despair. “The only reason he gave for his
deplorable situation was, that the Lord had very
powerfully called him, time after time, to preach,
and he had as often resisted the call, till at last he
entirely lost a sense of the favour of God. He seemed
to have no hope left. We endeavoured,” the Doctor
adds, “to raise his drooping head, but all in vain.”
If this case were known to the persons in office, as in
all likelihood it must have been, it would satisfy them
that they had done wisely in proscribing a system
which produced effects like this. The person in
question conceived himself to be in a state of repro-
bation, because he had not broken the laws of the
place wherein he lived.
By this time the alloy of Methodism had shown
itself in the islands. Dr. Coke commanded respect
there by his manners, his education, and his station
in life. The missionaries who followed him had none
of these advantages: their poverty and their pecu-
liarities provoked contempt in those who had no
respect for their zeal, and who perceived all that was
WOL. II. Z
338 METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES.
offensive in their conduct, and all that was indiscreet,
but were insensible of the good which these instru-
ments were producing. Indispensable as religion is
to the well-being of every society, its salutary influ-
ences are more especially required in countries where
the system of slavery is established. If the planters
understood their own interest, they would see that
the missionaries might be made their best friends;
that by their means the evils of slavery might be
mitigated; and that, in proportion as the slave was
made a religious being, he became resigned to his lot
and contented. But one sure effect of that abominable
system is, that it demoralises the masters as much as
it brutalises the slaves. Men whose lives are evil
willingly disbelieve the Gospel if they can ; and, with
the greater part of mankind, belief and disbelief
depend upon volition far more than is generally
understood. But if they cannot succeed in this, they
naturally hate those who preach zealously against
their habitual vices. Among the causes, therefore,
which soon made the Methodists unpopular in all or
most of the Columbian islands, the first place must
be assigned to that hateful licentiousness which pre-
vails wherever slavery exists: something is to be
allowed to a contempt for the preachers; something
to the objectionable practices of Methodism, and to a
just dislike of what was offensive in its language;
and perhaps not a little to the meritorious zeal which
the Society had shown in England in favour of the
abolition of the slave trade, when that great question
was first agitated with such ardent benevolence on
one side, and such fierce repugnance on the other.
While Dr. Coke was in Antigua, Baxter was as-
saulted at the door of his chapel by some drunken
persons of the higher order, who threatened to murder
him. His wife and the negroes believed them to be
in earnest: the cry which they raised was mistaken
METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES. 339
for a cry of fire, and the whole town was presently in
an uproar. Baxter was informed by the magistrates
that the offenders should be punished as they deserved,
if he would lodge an information against them. But
it was thought best to acknowledge a grateful sense
of their protection, and to decline the prosecution.
Shortly afterwards, the chapel at St. Vincent's was
broken open by night, not by robbers, but by mis-
chievous and probably drunken persons, who did what
mischief they could, and, carrying away the Bible,
suspended it from the gallows; a flagitious act, which
caused the magistrates to offer a large reward for
discovering the perpetrators. This growing ill-will
was more openly displayed at Jamaica, where a mis-
sionary had been appointed, and a chapel erected in
Kingston. The preacher's life had been frequently
endangered here by an outrageous rabble; and a
person who was considered to be the chief of the
Methodists narrowly escaped being stoned to death, and
was once obliged to disguise himself in regimentals.
Attempts were made to pull down the chapel; and
when some of the rioters were prosecuted, they were
acquitted, Coke says, against the clearest evidence.
The most abominable reports were raised against
Hammet, the preacher; and as for Dr. Coke, he, they
said, had been tried in England for horse-stealing,
and had fled the country in order to escape from
justice.
Such was the temper of the Jamaica people, when
the Doctor, with another missionary in his company,
landed at Montego Bay, in the beginning of 1791. A
recommendatory letter to a gentleman in the neigh-
bourhood procured them an excellent dinner, but no
help in their main design; and they walked the
streets, “peeping and inquiring for a place wherein
to preach, in vain.” To preach out of doors in that
climate, while the sun is up, is almost impracticable;
Z 2
340 METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES.
and at evening, the only time when the slaves can
attend, the heavy dews render it imprudent and
dangerous. Dining, however, at an ordinary the
next day, and stating his sorrow that he was pre-
vented from preaching for want of a place, one of the
company advised him to apply for a large room, which
had originally been the church, served now for assem-
blies, and was frequently used as a theatre. Here he
preached every evening during a short stay; and
though a few bucks clapped and encored him, he was
on the whole well satisfied with the attention of the
congregation *, and the respect with which he was
treated. But at Spanish Town and at Kingston he
was grossly insulted by a set of profligate young men:
their conduct roused in him an emotion which he had
never felt in the same degree before, and which, he
says, he believed was a spark of the proper spirit of
martyrdom; and, addressing himself to these rioters
in terms of just reproof, he told them that he was
willing — yea, desirous to suffer martyrdom, if the
kingdom of Christ might be promoted thereby. The
effect which he says that this produced, was un-
doubtedly assisted by his station in life, which enabled
him to appear upon equal terms with the proudest of
his assailants. On another occasion, when he had
ended his sermon, he told these persons that he and
his brethren were determined to proceed, and to apply
to the legal authorities for justice, if such insults and
outrages were continued ; and if justice were not to
3.
* “On the Sunday morning,” says Dr. Coke (Journal, page 130.),
“we went to church; but a little rain falling, the congregation consisted
only of half a dozen, or thereabouts, at the exact time of beginning, on
which the minister walked out. If he had condescended to have waited
ten minutes longer, we should have been, I believe, about twenty. The
Sunday before, also, there had been no service. In some of the parishes
of this island there is no church, nor any divine service performed,
except the burial of the dead, and christenings and weddings, in private
houses, though the livings are very lucrative. But I will write no
more on this subject, lest I should grow indignant.”
METHODISM IN THE WEST INDIES. 341
be found in Jamaica, they were sure, he said, of
obtaining it at home.
The affairs of Methodism in the West Indies were
in this state at the time of Mr. Wesley's death. Four-
teen preachers were stationed there, of whom two came
from the American branch. The number of persons
enrolled in the Connection then amounted to about six
thousand, of whom two thirds were negroes, and the
number of white persons did not exceed two hundred.
A more determined spirit of opposition was arising
than they had ever experienced in Europe; but they
were sure of protection from the home government,
and knew that by perseverance they should make
their cause good.
z 3
3
4
2
CHAPTER XXIX.
SETTLEMENT OF THE CONFERENCE. — MANNERS AND
EFFECTS OF METHODISM.
THE year 1784 has been called the grand climacterical
year of Methodism, because Wesley then first ar-
rogated to himself an episcopal power ; and because
in that year the legal settlement of the Conference
was effected, whereby provision was made for the
government of the Society after his death, as long as
it should continue.
The Methodist chapels, with the preachers' houses
annexed to them, had all been conveyed to trustees
for the use of such persons as should be appointed
from time to time by John or Charles Wesley, during
their lives; by the survivor, and after the death of
both, by the yearly Conference of the people called
Methodists, in London, Bristol, or Leeds. A legal
opinion was taken, whether the law would recognise
the Conference, unless the precise meaning of the
word were defined: the lawyers were of opinion that
it would not; and therefore, at the next meeting of that
body, Mr. Wesley was unanimously desired to draw
up a deed which should give a legal specification of
the term; the mode of doing it being left entirely to
his discretion. The necessity for this was obvious.
“Without some authentic deed fixing the meaning of
the term, the moment I died, says he, the Conference
had been nothing : therefore any of the proprietors of
land on which our preaching-houses had been built
might have seized them for their own use, and there
would have been none to hinder them; for the Con-
SETTLEMENT OF THE CONFERENCE. 343
ference would have been nobody – a mere empty
name.”
His first thought was to name some ten or twelve
persons. On further consideration, he appointed one
hundred, believing, he says, “there would be more
safety in a greater number of counsellors;” and judg-
ing these were as many as could meet without too
great an expense, and without leaving any circuit
deprived of preachers while the Conference was
assembled. The hundred persons thus nominated,
“being preachers and expounders of God's holy
Word, under the care of, and in connection with, the
said John Wesley,” were declared to constitute the
Conference, according to the true intent and meaning
of the various deeds in which that term was used ;
and provision was now made for continuing the suc-
cession and identity of this body, wherein the admi-
nistration of the Methodist Connection was to be
vested after the founder's death. They were to
assemble yearly at London, Bristol, or Leeds, or any
other place which they might think proper to appoint;
and their first act was to be to fill up all vacancies
occasioned by death or other circumstances. No act
was to be valid unless forty members were present,
provided the whole body had not been reduced below
that number by death or other causes. The duration
of the assembly should not be less than five days, nor
more than three weeks, but any time between those
limits at their discretion. They were to elect a pre-
sident and secretary from their own number, and the
president should have a double vote. Any member
absenting himself without leave from two successive
conferences, and not appearing on the first day of the
third, forfeited his seat by that absence. They had
power to admit preachers and expounders upon trial,
to receive them into full connection, and to expel any
person for sufficient cause ; but no person might be
z 4
344 SETTLEMENT OF THE CONFERENCE.
elected a member of their body till he had been
twelve months in full connection as a preacher. They
might not appoint any one to preach in any of their
chapels who was not a member of the Connection, nor
might they appoint any preacher for more than three
years to one place, except ordained ministers of the
Church of England. They might delegate any mem-
ber or members of their own body to act with full
power in Ireland, or any other parts out of the king-
dom of Great Britain. Whenever the Conference
should be reduced below the number of forty mem-
bers, and continue so reduced for three years, or
whenever it should neglect to meet for three successive
years, in either of such cases the Conference should
be extinguished; and the chapels and other premises
should vest in the trustees for the time being, in trust
that they should appoint persons to preach therein.
The deed concluded with a provision that nothing
which it contained should be construed so as to ex-
tinguish, lessen, or abridge the life estate of John and
Charles Wesley in any of the chapels and premises.
At the time when this settlement was made, there
were one hundred and ninety-one preachers in full
connection; they who were omitted in the list of the
hundred were offended as well as disappointed; and
they imputed their exclusion to Dr. Coke, whom many
of them regarded with jealousy, because of the place
which he deservedly held in Mr. Wesley's opinion,
and the conspicuous rank which he filled in the
Society. He was grievously wronged by this suspi-
cion; for he has declared, and there can be no pos-
sible grounds for doubting his veracity, that his
opinion at the time was, that every preacher in full
connection should be a member of the Conference.
Wesley acted upon his own judgement; and the rea-
sons which he assigned for determining the number
were satisfactory. Five of the excluded preachers,
SETTLEMENT OF THE CONFERENCE. 345
who thought themselves most aggrieved, sent circu-
lar letters to those who were in the same case with
themselves, inviting them to canvass the business in
the ensuing Conference, and, in fact, to form a regu-
lar opposition to Mr. Wesley. They had reason to
expect that they should be powerfully supported; but
when the assembly met, Wesley explained his motives
in a manner that carried conviction with it, reproved
the persons who had issued the circular letters with
great severity, and called upon all those who agreed
with him in opinion to stand up ; upon which the
whole Conference rose, with the exception of the five
malcontents. Mr. Fletcher interfered in their behalf,
and by his means they were induced to acknowledge
that they had sinned; and a verbal promise, according
to their own account, was given them, that Mr. Wes-
ley would take measures for putting them on a foot-
ing with the rest. He could only mean that they
would be appointed members of the Conference as
vacancies occurred; and it appears by their own
statement also, that they had not patience to wait for
this, but, in the course of the year, withdrew from
the Connection, complaining of their wrongs, talking
of their indisputable rights, and appealing to an
original compact which had no existence. On the
contrary, Wesley had always taken especial care to
assert, as well as to exercise, his authority over the
Society which he had raised, and the preachers, whom
he received as his assistants, not his equals; still less
as persons who might oppose and control him.
Wesley prided himself upon the economy of his
Society, and upon his management of it. It was the
peculiar talent, he said, which God had given him.
He possessed that talent, beyond all doubt, in a re-
markable degree. The constitution of Methodism,
like most forms of government, had arisen out of
accidents and circumstances: but Wesley had availed
346 - MANNERS AND EFFECTS
himself of these with great skill, and made them sub-
servient to his views and purposes as they arose :
whatever power of mind was displayed in the forma-
tion of Methodism was his own. In this respect he
differs from those monastic patriarchs with whom he
may most obviously be compared. St. Benedict com-
piled his rule from elder statutes, modifying them,
and adapting them to his own time and country. St.
Francis seems to have become the tool of his artful
and ambitious disciples; and Loyola was not the
architect of the admirable structure which he founded.
But the system of Methodism was Wesley's own work.
The task of directing it was not so difficult as might
at first appear. His rank, his attainments, his abili-
ties, and his reputation, secured for him so decided a
superiority, that no person in his own community
eould, with the slightest prospect of success, dispute
it; and in the latter years of his life, that superiority
was still farther increased by his venerable age, and
the respect which he had then obtained even among
strangers. Those who were weary of acting under
his direction as preachers, or of observing his rules as
members, either withdrew, or were easily dismissed.
This is the great advantage which all sects enjoy.
They get rid of troublesome spirits and bad subjects;
and general Society is ready to receive the outcasts.
The quarterly renewal of the band and class tickets
afforded a ready means of ejecting unworthy and dis-
obedient members. The terms of admission, there-
fore, might well be made comprehensive; while these
means of cutting short all discordance were in the
preacher's hands. Upon this facility of admission
Wesley prided himself. “One circumstance,” says
he, “is quite peculiar to the Methodists: the terms
upon which any person may be admitted into their
society. They do not impose, in order to their ad-
mission, any opinions whatever. Let them hold par-
OF METHODISM. 347
ticular or general redemption, absolute or conditional
decrees; let them be Churchmen or Dissenters, Pres-
byterians or Independents, it is no obstacle. Let
them choose one mode of worship or another, it is no
bar to their admission. The Presbyterian may be a
Presbyterian still ; the Independent or Anabaptist
use his own mode of worship; so may the Quaker,
and none will contend with him about it. They think,
and let think. One condition, and one only, is re-
quired,— a real desire to save their souls. Where
this is, it is enough ; they desire no more. They lay
stress upon nothing else. They ask only, Is thy heart
herein as my heart 2 If it be, give me thy hand. Is
there any other society in Great Britain or Ireland
that is so remote from bigotry” — that is so truly of
a Catholic spirit 2– so ready to admit all serious per-
sons without distinction ? Where, then, is there such
another society? In Europe 2 in the habitable world?
I know none. Let any man show it me that can.
Till then, let no one talk of the bigotry of the Me-
thodists.” The propriety of thus admitting persons
of opposite persuasions, and of bearing with the oppo-
sition which they might raise, was once debated in
Conference. Mr. Wesley listened patiently to the dis-
cussion, and concluded it by saying, “I have no more
right to object to a man for holding a different opin-
ion from me, than I have to differ with a man because
he wears a wig, and I wear my own hair; but if he
takes his wig off, and begins to shake the powder
about my eyes, I shall consider it my duty to get quit
of him as soon as possible.”
Wesley, indeed, well understood the importance of
unanimity in his Connection; and even before he had
taken those decided steps which prepared the way for
a separation from the Church, aimed, in many of his
regulations, at making the Methodists a peculiar
people. For this reason, he required them, like the
348 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
Quakers, to intermarry among themselves. This
point was determined in the first Conference, the
want of such a regulation having been experienced.
“Many of our members,” it was said, “have lately
married with unbelievers, even with such as were
wholly unawakened; and this has been attended with
fatal consequences. Few of these have gained the
unbelieving wife or husband. Generally, they have
themselves either had a heavy cross for life, or
entirely fallen back into the world.” In order to
prevent such marriages, it was decreed that every
preacher should enforce the apostolic caution, “Be ye
not unequally yoked with unbelievers;” that whoever
acted contrary to it should be expelled the Society ;
and that all persons should be exhorted “to take no
step in so weighty a matter without consulting the
most serious of their brethren.” The rule was well
designed for the preservation and increase of Method-
ism ; but the language savours strongly of that
spiritual pride which sectarism of every kind tends to
excite and foster. -
This was not the only point in which Wesley
imitated the Quakers. He has himself said, that, having
remarked among them several parts of Christian
practice, he had willingly adopted, with some restric-
tions, plainness of speech and plainness of dress. In
their barbarisms of language, and their superstitious
rejection of common forms of speech, he was too well
educated and too sensible to follow them ; neither did
he recommend his followers to imitate them in those
little particularities of dress which could answer no
end but that of distinguishing them from other people.
“To be singular,” he said, “merely for singularity's
sake, is not the part of a Christian. I do not, there-
fore, advise you to wear a hat of such dimensions, or
a coat of a particular form. Rather, in things that
are absolutely indifferent, humility and courtesy
OF METHODISM. 349
require you to conform to the customs of your
country; but I advise you to imitate them in the
neatness and in the plainness of their apparel. In
this are implied two things: that your apparel be
cheap, far cheaper than others in your circumstances
wear, or than you would wear if you knew not God;
that it be grave, not gay, airy, or showy — not in the
point of the fashion.”—“Shall Ibe more particular ’’’
he pursues. “Then ſeahort all those who desire me to
watch over their souls, wear no gold, no pearls or
precious stones; use no curling of hair or costly
apparel, how grave soever. I advise those who are
able to receive this saying, buy no velvet, no silks, no
fine linen, no superfluities, no mere ornaments, though
ever so much in fashion. Wear nothing, though you
have it already, which is of a glaring colour, or which
is in any kind gay, glistering, or showy ; nothing
made in the very height of the fashion; nothing apt
to attract the eyes of the bystanders. I do not advise
women to wear rings, ear-rings, necklaces, laces (of
whatever kind or colour), or ruffles, which, by little
and little, may shoot easily from one to twelve inches
deep. Neither do I advise men to wear coloured
waistcoats, shining stockings, glittering or costly
buckles or buttons, either on their coats or in their
sleeves, any more than gay, fashionable, or expensive
perukes. It is true, these are little, very little things,
which are not worth defending: therefore give them
up, let them drop ; throw them away, without another
word.” - t
It was one of the band-rules, that rings, ear-rings,
necklaces, lace and ruffles were not to be worn ; and
this rule was ordered by the first Conference to be
enforced, particularly with regard to ruffles: band-
tickets were not to be given to any persons who had
not left them off; and no exempt case was to be
allowed, not even of a married woman: “Better one
350 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
suffer than many,” was Mr. Wesley's language at that
time. This injunction was afterwards withdrawn;
because it was found impracticable, as interfering in a
manner not to be borne with domestic affairs. He
admitted, therefore, that “women under the yoke of
unbelieving parents or husbands (as well as men in
office) might be constrained to put on gold or costly
apparel; and in cases of this kind,” says he, “plain
experience shows, that the baneful influence is sus-
pended; so that, wherever it is not our choice, but
our cross, it may consist with godliness, with a meek
and quiet spirit, with lowliness of heart, with Christian
seriousness.” Women, therefore, who were con-
strained by “self-willed, unreasonable husbands or
parents,” to do in this respect what otherwise they
would not, were held blameless, provided they used
“all possible means, arguments, and entreaties to be
excused,” and complied just “so far as they were con-
strained, and no farther.” Even in this concession,
the intolerant spirit of a reformer is betrayed; and no
scruple was made at introducing discord into private
families, for the sake of an idle fancy which Wesley
had taken up in the days of his enthusiasm. He
maintained, that curling the hair, and wearing gold,
precious stones, and costly apparel, were expressly
forbidden in Scripture; and that whoever said there
is no harm in these things, might as well say there is
no harm in stealing or adultery; a mode of reasoning,
which would produce no effect so surely as that of
confounding all notions of right and wrong.
In spite, however, of his exhortations, those of his
own people who could afford it, “the very people
that sate under the pulpit, or by the side of it,” were
as fashionably adorned as others of their own rank.
“This,” said Wesley, “is a melancholy truth: I am
ashamed of it; but I know not how to help it. I call
heaven and earth to witness this day, that it is not my
. OF METHODISM. 351
fault. The trumpet has not given an uncertain sound
for near fifty years last past, O God, thou knowest
I have borne a clear and a faithful testimony. In
print, in preaching, in meeting the Society, I have not
shunned to declare the whole counsel of God: I am
therefore clear of the blood of those that will not hear:
it lies upon their own heads. I conjure you all who
have any regard for me, show me, before I go hence,
that I have not laboured, even in this respect, in vain,
for near half a century. Let me see, before I die, a
Methodist congregation full as plain dressed as a
Quaker congregation. Only be more consistent with
yourselves: let your dress be cheap as well as plain,
otherwise you do but trifle with God, and me, and
your own souls. I pray let there be no costly silks
among you, how grave soever they may be: let there
be no Quaker linen, proverbially so called for its ex-
quisite fineness; no Brussels lace; no elephantine
hats or bonnets — those scandals of female modesty.
Be all of a piece, dressed from head to foot as persons
professing godliness; professing to do every thing,
small and great, with the single view of pleasing
God.”
Whitefield, in the early part of his course, had
fallen into an error of this kind ; and, for about a
year, he says, thought that “Christianity required
him to go nasty.” But Wesley was always scru-
pulously neat in his person, and enforced upon his
followers the necessity of personal neatness. Toward
the end of his life, he publicly declared his regret
that he had not made the Methodists distinguish
themselves by a peculiar costume. “I might have
been as firm,” he says, “(and I now see it would have
been far better,) as either the people called Quakers
or the Moravian Brethren : I might have said, ‘This
is our manner of dress, which we know is both scrip-
tural and rational. If you join with us, you are to
352 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
dress as we do; but you need not join us unless you
please.” But, alas ! the time is now past.” Perhaps,
if he had attempted this early in his career, he might
have succeeded, as well as George Fox ; but if, like
George Fox, he had taken for his standard the com-
mon dress of grave persons, in the middle rank of life,
he would have perpetuated a fashion more graceless
than that of Quakerism in its rigour. The Quakers
are not desirous of increasing their numbers by
proselytes; if they were, they would find an incon-
venience in their costume: instead of making the
entrance easy and imperceptible, so that he who enters
scarcely knows when he has passed the line, it places
a Rubicon in the way. It has the farther incon-
venience, and this they feel and lament, that the
desire of getting rid of so peculiar a garb, is one in-
ducement for young members to withdraw from the
sect. The latter objection Wesley might have
avoided, by choosing a habitat once graceful and con-
venient: but the former would have greatly impeded
his success; and he himself, who compassed sea and
land to gain proselytes, would soon have been im-
atient of such an impediment. Upon his wealthier
followers, his exhortations upon this subject produced
little or no effect; but, in the middle and lower classes,
of which the great majority consisted, the women took
to a mode of dress less formal than that of the
Quakers, but almost as plain, and by which they were
easily distinguished.* With the men he was less
* In one of his Magazines, Wesley published an extract from a tract
called the Refined Courtier; and the following passage was loudly com-
plained of, as inconsistent with the opinions upon this subject which he
had repeatedly professed: “Let every one, when he appears in public,
be decently clothed, according to his age, and the custom of the place
where he lives: he that does otherwise seems to affect singularity. Nor
is it sufficient that our garment be made of good cloth, but we should
constrain ourselves to follow the garb where we reside, seeing custom
is the law and standard of decency in all things of this nature.” He
paraphrases this in a subsequent number, in order to vindicate it; says
OF METHODISM. 353
Successful: it was asked, in the Conference of 1782,
if it were well for the preachers to powder their hair,
and to wear artificial curls 2 and the answer merely
said, that “to abstain from both is the more excellent
way.” A direct prohibition was not thought ad-
visable, because it would not have been willingly
obeyed. .'
Cards, dancing, and the theatres were, of course,
forbidden to his disciples. Not contented with such
reasons as are valid or plausible for the prohibition,
they have collected superstitious anecdotes upon these
subjects; and, in a spirit as presumptuous as it is
uncharitable, have recorded tales of sudden death, as
instances of God's judgement upon card-players and
dancing-masters Innocent was a word which Wesley
would never suffer to be applied to any kind of pas-
time; for he had set his face against all diversions of
any kind, and would not even allow the children at
School to play. “Those things we have falsely called
innocent,” says one of his correspondents, “are the
right eye to be plucked out. If you were besieging
strong enemies, and had no hope of conquering but
by starving them, would it be innocent now and then
to throw them a little bread P” Wesley was in
nothing more erroneous than in judging of others by
himself, and requiring from them a constant attention
to spiritual things, and that unremitting stretch of
the faculties which to him was become habitual. If
he never flagged, it was because he was blessed above
all men with a continual elasticity of spirits; because
the strong motive of ambition was always acting upon
him; because perpetual change of place kept his mind
that the author is speaking of people of rank; and, that he may get rid
of the accusation with a jest, exhorts all lords of the bedchamber and
maids of honour to follow the advice. “The whole,” says he, “may
bear a sound construction, nor does it contradict any thing which I have
said or written.” -
VOI, II. A A
354 MANNERS ANI) lºFFECTS
and body for ever on the alert; and because, wherever
he went, his presence excited a stir among strangers,
and made a festival among his friends. Daily change
of scene and of society, with a life of activity and
exertion, kept him in hilarity as well as health. But
it was unreasonable to expect that his followers should
have the same happy temperament.
Bishop Hacket's happy motto was, “Serve God,
and be cheerful.” – “Be serious,” was one of Wes-
ley's favourite injunctions. “Be serious;” it was
said in the first Conference. “Let your motto be,
‘Holiness to the Lord.’ Avoid all lightness, as you
would avoid hell-fire; and trifling, as you would
cursing and swearing. Touch no woman : be as
loving as you will; but the custom of the country is
nothing to us.”” When the two brothers, John and
Charles, were in the first stage of their enthusiasm,
they used to spend part of the Sabbath in walking
in the fields, and singing psalms. One Sunday, when
they were beginning to set the stave, a sense of the
ridiculous situation came upon Charles, and he burst
into a loud laughter. “I asked him,” says John, “if
he was distracted, and began to be very angry, and
presently after to laugh as loud as he. Nor could we
possibly refrain, though we were ready to tear our-
selves in pieces, but were forced to go home, without
singing another line.” Hysterical laughter, and that
laughter which is as contagious as the act of yawning,
when the company are in tune for it, Wesley believed
to be the work of the Devil, - one of the many points
in which the parallel holds good between the en-
thusiasm of the Methodists and of the Papists.f
* This passage will not be found in the minutes of the Conference.
It is given by Mr. Myles, in his Chronological History of the Methodists,
(p. 31. 3d edition,) as a minute relative to practice. This authority will
not be questioned, Mr. Myles being a travelling preacher himself, and a
distinguished member of the Conference.
f There is a grand diatribe of St. Pachomius against laughing. The
beatified Jordan, second general of the Dominicans, treated an hysterical
OF METHODISM.' 355
He advised his preachers not to converse with any
person more than an hour at a time; in general to
fix the end of every conversation before they began;
to plan it beforehand; to pray before and after it,
and to watch and pray during the time. In the same
spirit of a monastic legislator also, but to a more
practicable and useful end, he exhorted them to
watch against what he called the lust of finishing; to
mortify which, he and his companions at Oxford, he
said, frequently broke off writing in the middle of a
sentence, if not in the middle of a word, especially
the moment they heard the chapel bell ring.” “If
nature,” said he, “reclaimed, we remembered the
affection of this kind with a degree of prudence and practical wisdom
not often to be found in the life of a Romish saint. “Cum idem ma-
gister duceret Secwm multos movitios, quos receperat in quodam loco, ubi
mon erat conventus ; accidit quod in quodam hospitio cum Completorium
cum eis et aliis Swis diceret, unus capit 7"idere ; et alii hoc videntes
similiter fortiter inceperunt ridere. Quidam autem de sociis magistri
incepit eos per sigma compescere ; at illi magis ac magis ridebant. Tune
dimisso Completorio, et dicto bemedicite, incepit magister dicere illi socio
Swo, Frater, quis fecit v0s magistrum movition wºm mostrorum ? Quid
pertimet ad vos eos corrigere? Et conversus ad movitios diarit, carissimi
widete fortiter, et mom dimittatis propter fratrem istum : ego do vobis
licentiam. Et vere debetis gaudere et ridere, quia eacivistis de carcere
diaboli et fracta sunt dura vimculi illius, quibus multis annis temwit v0s
ligatos. Ridete ergo, carissimi, ridete. At illi in his verbis consolati
Sunt in animo 5 et post ridere dissoluté nom potwerunt.”—Acta Sanc-
torum, 13 Feb. p. 734.
* St. David accustomed his monks to the same kind of alert disci-
pline. If any one heard the bell ring while he was engaged in writing,
he instantly left off, though it might be in the middle of a letter. Ve-
niente autem vesperó molae somitus audiebatu)', et quisque studium suum
deserebat, et ad communitatem veniebat. Si vero in auribus alicuffus
Yesonabat scripta tune literac apice vel etiam dimidiá literá eam incom-
pletam dimittebat, et ad communem locum conveniebat cwm silentio.—
Acta Sanctorum, March 1st, vol. i. p. 46.
Stanihurst, in his description of Ireland, relates an instance of this in
“an holie and learned abbot called Kanicus,” who “was wholly wedded
to his book and to devotion ; wherein he continued so painful and
diligent, as being on a certain time penning a serious matter, and having
not fully drawn the fourth vocal, the abbey-bell ting’d to assemble the
convent to some spiritual exercise ; to which he so hastened as he left
the letter in semi-circle-wise unfinished, until he returned back to his
book.” -
A A 2
356 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
word of the heathen — ejicienda est hac mollities
animi.” Could his rules have been enforced like
those of his kindred spirits in the days of papal
dominion, he also would have had his followers regu-
lar as clock-work, and as obedient, as uniform, and as
artificial as they could have been made by the insti-
tutions of the Chinese empire, or the monastery of La
Trappe. This was not possible, because obedience
was a matter of choice: his disciples conformed no
farther than they thought good; dismissal was the
only punishment which he could inflict, and it was
always in their power to withdraw from the Con-
nection. Even his establishment at Kingswood failed
of the effect which he had expected from it, though
authority was not wanting there; because the system
was too rigorous and too monastic for the age and
country. The plan of making it a general school for
the society was relinquished; but it was continued
for the sons of the preachers, and became one of those
objects for which the Conference regularly provided
at their annual meeting. In the year 1766 he de-
livered over the management of it to stewards on
whom he could depend: “So I have cast,” said he,
“a heavy load off my shoulders; blessed be God for
able and faithful men who will do his work without
any temporal reward.” The superintendence he still
retained; and it was a frequent cause of vexation to
him. Maids, masters, and boys, were refractory,
sometimes the one, sometimes the other, sometimes
all together, so that he talked of letting the bur-
den drop. On one occasion, he says, “Having
stold my whole mind to the masters and servants, I
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.”
But the necessity of such an asylum induced him to
persevere in it; and it was evidently, with all the
gross errors of its plan, and all the trouble and
OF METHODISM. 357.
chagrin which it occasioned, a favourite institution
with the founder. “Trevecca,” said he, “is much
more to Lady Huntingdon than Kingswood is to me.
I mixes with every thing. It is my college, my
masters, my students. I do not speak so of this
school. It is not mine, but the Lord’s.” Looking
upon himself, however, as the vicegerent, the com-
placency with which he regarded the design, made
amends to him for the frequent disappointment of his
hopes. “Every man of sense,” he said, “who read
the rules, might conclude that a school so conducted
by men of piety and understanding would exceed
any other school or academy in Great Britain or
Ireland.” And his amazing credulity whenever a
work of grace was announced among the boys, was
proof against repeated experience, as well as common
sense. The boys were taken to see a corpse one day,
and, while the impression was fresh upon them, they
were lectured upon the occasion, and made to join in
a hymn upon death. Some of them being very much
affected, they were told that those who were resolved
to serve God might go and pray together; and, accord-
ingly, fifteen of them went, and, in Wesley's language,
“continued wrestling with God, with strong cries and
tears,” till their bedtime. Wesley happened to be
upon the spot. The excitement was kept up day
after day, by what he calls “strong exhortations,”
and many gave in their names to him, being resolved,
they said, to serve God. It was a wonder that the
boys were not driven mad by the conduct of their
instructors. These insane persons urged them never
to rest till they had obtained a clear sense of the
pardoning love of God. This advice they gave them
severally, as well as collectively; and some of the
poor children actually agreed that they would not
sleep till God revealed himself to them, and they had
found peace! The scene which ensued was worthy
A A 3
358 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
of Bedlam, and might fairly have entitled the pro-
moters to a place there. One of the masters, finding
that they had risen from bed, and were hard at prayer,
some half-dressed, and some almost naked, went and
prayed and sung with them, and then ordered them
to bed. It was impossible that they could sleep in
such a state of delirium: they rose again, and went
to the same work; and being again ordered to bed,
again stole out, one after another, till, when it was
near midnight, they were all at prayer again. The
maids caught the madness, and were upon their knees
with the children. This continued all night; and
maids and boys went on raving and praying through
the next day, till, one after another, they every one
fancied, at last, that they felt their justification “In
the evening all the maids, and many of the boys, not
having been used to so long and violent speaking,
(for this had lasted from Tuesday till Saturday !)
were worn out as to bodily strength, and so hoarse,
that they were scarce able to speak.” But it was
added that they were “strong in the Spirit, full of
love, and of joy and peace in believing.” Most of
them were admitted to the Lord's Supper the next
day, for the first time: and Wesley inserted the whole
monstrous account, with all its details, in his Journal;
and, in a letter written at the time, affirms that God
had sent a shower of grace upon the children
“Thirteen,” he says, “found peace with God, and
four or five of them were some of the smallest there,
not above seven or eight years old !” Twelve months
afterwards, there is this notable entry in his Journal:
“I spent an hour among our children at Kingswood.
It is strange! How long shall we be constrained
to weave Penelope's web 2 What is become of the
wonderful work of grace which God wrought in them
last September? It is gone! It is lost It is
vanished away ! There is scarce any trace of it
OF METHODISMI, 359
remaining !—Then we must begin again; and, in
due time, we shall reap, if we faint not.” On this
subject he was incapable of deriving instruction from
experience.
Neither did Wesley ever discover the extreme
danger of exciting an inflammatory state of devotional
feeling. His system, on the contrary, enjoined a per-
petual course of stimulants, and lest the watch-nights
and the love-feasts, with the ordinary means of class-
meetings and band-meetings, should be insufficient,
he borrowed from the Puritans one of the most
perilous practices that ever was devised by enthu-
siasm; the entering into a covenant, in which the
devotee promises and vows to the “most dreadful
God,” (beginning the address with that dreadful
appellation I) to become his covenant servant; and,
giving up himself, body and soul, to his service, to
observe all his laws, and obey him before all others,
“and this to the death !” Mr. Wesley may perhaps
have been prejudiced in favour of this practice, be-
cause he found it recommended by the non-conformist
Richard Allein, whose works had been published by
his maternal grandfather, Dr. Annesley; so that he
had probably been taught to respect the author in his
youth. In the year 1755, he first recommended this
covenant; and, after explaining the subject to his
London congregation during several successive days,
he assembled as many as were willing to enter into
the engagement, at the French Church in Spitalfields,
and read to them the tremendous formula, to which
eighteen hundred persons signified their assent by
standing up. “Such a night,” he says, “I scarce
ever saw before: surely the fruit of it shall remain
for ever !” From that time it has been the practice
among the Methodists to renew the covenant annually,
generally on the first night of the new year, or of the
Sunday following. They are exhorted to make it not
A A 4
360 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
only in heart, but in word; not only in word, but in
writing; and to spread the writing with all possible
reverence before the Lord, as if they would present
it to him as their act and deed, and then to set their
hands to it. It is said, that some persons, from a
fanatical and frightful motion of making the covenant
perfect on their part, have signed it with their own
blood | ...) -
A practice like this, highly reprehensible as it
would always be, might be comparatively harmless,
if absolution were a part of the methodistic economy,
as well as confession; and if the distinction between
venial and deadly sins were admitted, or if things,
innocent in themselves, were not considered sinful in
their morality. The rules of a monastic order, how-
ever austere, are observed in the convent, because
there exists an authority which can compel the ob-
servance, and punish any disobedience; moreover, all
opportunities of infraction or of temptation are, as
much as possible, precluded there, and the discipline
is regularly and constantly enforced. But they who
take the methodistic covenant, have no keeper except
their own conscience; that, too, in a state of diseased
irritability, often unable to prevent them from lapsing
into offences, but sure to exaggerate the most trifling
fault, and to avenge even imaginary guilt with real
anguish. The struggle which such an engagement is
but too likely to produce, may well be imagined ; nor
can its consequences be doubtful: some would have
strength of nerves enough to succeed in stifling their
conscience, or, at least, in keeping it down; and they
would throw off all religion as burdensome, because
they had taken upon themselves a yoke too heavy to
be borne: others would lose their senses.
Methodism has sometimes been the cure of mad-
ness, and has frequently changed the type of the dis-
ease, and mitigated its evils, Sometimes it has ob-
OF METHODISM. - 361
tained credit by curing the malady which it caused ;
but its remedial powers are not always able to restore
the patient, and overstrained feelings have ended in
confirmed insanity or in death. When Wesley in.
structed his preachers that they should throw men
into strong terror and fear, and strive to make them
inconsolable, he did not consider that all constitutions
were not strong enough to stand this moral saliva-
tion. The language of his own sermons was some-
times well calculated to produce this effect. “Mine
and your desert,” said he to his hearers, “is hell”: and
* For desert I should have said tendency; or rather, I should have
suppressed the whole period, as deeming that whatever of truth it con-
tains might be more profitably taught in a different form. But with
regard to the fourteen lines that follow, to the word “pit,” I dissent
from my honoured friend so widely, that I profess myself unable to cou-
ceive how the truth of the Gospel can be brought home to, or laid hold
of, by a sinner, without something more than a vague w y 2. — without
some realising apprehension of that from which we are to be rescued.
This seems indispensable to the intelligibility of Christianity. Without
it, the Gospel is the fragment of a sentence. God in Christ, by the
effect of the incarnation of the Co-eternal Word, has provided salvation
from (hiatus in the MS.) The lake, the brimstone, &c. are indeed
much to be regretted; because they counteract the very object in view,
that of drawing the soul inward in its own state and essence. And still
more objectionable are the questions that follow, all tending to deceive
the mind into that most pernicious notion of the evil to come being a
something arbitrarily superinduced on the soul ; inflicted by a power
from without, who needed only have remained passive, and the soul
would have ailed nothing. This is the quenching error, that strikes the
whole body of religion with the shaking palsy of superstition, or the
lethargy of false assurance. But this was the defect of Wesley's intel-
lect. He could discover and denounce the poison in the stem, but not
recognise it in its taproot. Who more vehement than he in opposing
Antinomian frenzies P But yet the ground and “ conditio sine qua
mon ’’ of Antinomianism, viz. the conception of the soul as a mere pas-
sive subject-matter, on which woe and weal, good and evil, were im-
pressed by a hand and a choice from without, this all Wesley's figures
of rhetoric encourage. And the only effective antidote to this sad
delusion I believe to be afforded by an insight into the true action and
direction of the redeeming power; and that its immediate object is the
nature, the generic life, and not the individual will, or eipt : on this
too, indeed, but yet mediately and morally, Christ being from the be-
ginning the Light, that lighteth every man that cometh into the world.
Here, and here only, is the narrow isthmus between superstition on one
side, and enthusiasm, or sensational idolatry, on the other. It grieves
362 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
it is mere mercy, free undeserved mercy, that we are
not now in unquenchable fire.”—“The natural man,”
said he, “lies in the valley of the shadow of death.
Having no inlets for the knowledge of spiritual things,
all the avenues of his soul being shut up, he is in gross
stupid ignorance of whatever he is most concerned to
know. He sees not that he stands on the edge of the
pit ; therefore he fears it not: he has not understand-
ing enough to fear. He satisfies himself by saying,
God is merciful; confounding and swallowing up at
once, in that unwieldy idea of mercy, all his holiness
and essential hatred of sin—all his justice, wisdom,
and truth. God touches him, and now first he dis-
covers his real state. Horrid light breaks in upon his
soul—such light as may be conceived to gleam from
the bottomless pit, from the lowest deep, from a lake
of fire burning with brimstone.” The effect of such
sulphurous language may be easily conceived, espe-
cially when it was enforced by his manner of address-
ing himself personally to every individual who chose
to apply it to himself: “Art thou thoroughly con-
me more than a worldling would believe, if I expressed the degree, that
the incaution in not distinguishing, in the quotations from Wesley, the
precise points which Southey meant to condemn, and thus separating the
error, in kind or degree, from what Southey would himself admit as im-
portant truths, prevents me from urging the perusal and purchase of
these volumes as universally and promiscuously as I would fain do.
Where it is a safe work, I have no hesitation in pronouncing it among
the most instructive and interesting ones in our language. I am well —
alas ! for my own peace of mind, only too well — acquainted with the
difficulties that weigh on the negative of salvation — on the lot of those
who are not Christians in the New Testament determination of a Chris-
tian. But yet I must ask Southey, whether the Scriptures would lead
him to suppose, that the state of the many who have just steered clear
of the law of the land, and maintained a decent character, is the state
to which eternal life and an ascent into glory are promised ? I could
not in my own person utter the passage in pp. 363, 364, ; but neither
dare I uphold the contrary declarations of Drs. Mant and D'Oyley.
N.B. I speak exclusively of pp. 363, 364, ; what follows in p. 364.
I give up to Southey's just reprehension, as so much presumptuous
logic, čivev \óyov.–S. T. C.
OF METH ()]) ISM. . 363
vinced that thou deservest everlasting damnation ?
Would God do thee any wrong if he commanded the
earth to open and swallow thee up 7–if thou wert
now to go down into the pit — into the fire that ne-
ver shall be quenched ”
The manner in which he insisted upon the necessity
of the new birth, was especially dangerous : without
this he affirmed that there could be no salvation.
“To say that ye cannot be born again,” said he, “that
there is no new birth but in baptism, is to seal you
all under damnation—to consign you to hell, without
help, without hope. Thousands do really believe that
they have found a broad way which leadeth not to
destruction. “What danger (say they) can a woman
be in, that is so harmless and so virtuous * What fear
is there that so honest a man, one of so strict morality,
should miss of heaven º Especially if, over and above
all this, they constantly attend on the Church and
sacrament.’ One of these will ask with all assurance,
‘What I shall I not do as well as my neighbours ?”
Yes; as well as your unholy neighbours; as well as
your neighbours that die in their sins; for you will
all drop into the pit together, into the nethermost
hell. You will all lie together in the lake of fire,
‘the lake of fire burning with brimstone.’ Then at
length you will see (but God grant you may see it
before 1) the necessity of holiness in order to glory,
and, consequently, of the new birth ; since none can
be holy, except he be born again.” And he inveighed
bitterly against all who preached any doctrine short
of this. “Where lies the uncharitableness,” he asked;
“on my side, or on yours ? I say he may be born
again, and so become an heir of Salvation : you say he
cannot be born again; and, if so, he must inevitably
perish : so you utterly block up his way to Salvation,
and send him to hell, out of mere charity.”—“They
who do not teach men to walk in the narrow way, -
364 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
who encourage the easy, careless, harmless, useless
creature, the man who suffers no reproach for right-
eousness' sake, to imagine he is in the way to heaven;
these are false prophets in the highest sense of the
word ; these are traitors both to God and man; these
are no other than the first-born of Satan, and the eld-
est sons of Apollyon the destroyer. These are above
the rank of ordinary cut-throats, for they murder the
souls of men. They are continually peopling the
realms of night; and, whenever they follow the poor
souls whom they have destroyed, hell shall be moved
from beneath to meet them at their coming.”
The effect of these violent discourses was aided by
the injudicious language concerning good works, into
which Wesley was sometimes hurried, in opposition
even to his own calmer judgement upon that contested
point. “If you had done no harm to any man,” said
he, “if you had abstained from all wilful sin, if you
had done all the good you possibly could to all men,
and constantly attended all the ordinances of God, all
this will not keep you from hell, except you be born
again.” And he attempted to prove, by a syllogism,
that no works done before justification are good, be-
cause they are not done as God hath willed and com-
manded them to be done. “Where withal,” said he,
“shall a sinful man atone for any the least of his sins?
With his own works 2 Were they ever so many or
holy, they are not his own, but God's. But indeed
they are all unholy and sinful themselves; so that
every one of them needs a fresh atonement.”—“If
thou couldst do all things well; if from this very hour
till death thou couldst perform perfect uninterrupted
obedience, even this would not atone for what is past.
Yea, the present and the future obedience of all the
men upon earth, and all the angels in heaven, would
never make satisfaction to the justice of God for one
single sin.” Wesley has censured the error of re-
OF METHODISM. 365
posing in what he calls the unwieldy idea of God's
mercy. Is such an idea of his justice more tenable 2
If such notions were well founded, wherein would the
value of a good conscience consist P – or why should
we have been taught and commanded, when we pray,
to say, -“Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive
them that trespass against us.”
These were not Wesley's deliberate opinions. He
held a saner doctrine”, and the avowal of that doc-
trine was what drew upon him such loads of slander-
ous abuse from the Ultra-Calvinists. Yet he was led
to these inconsistencies by the course of his preaching,
and the desire of emptying men of their righteousness,
as he called it. And if he were thus indiscreet, what
was to be expected from his lay preachers, especially
from those who were at the same time in the heat of
their enthusiasm, and the plenitude of their igno-
rance 2 The overstrained feelings which were thus
excited, and the rigid doctrine which was preached,
tended to produce two opposite extremes of evil.
Many would become what, in puritanical language, is
* It was asked in the second Conference — Q. 9. “How can we main-
tain, that all works done before we have a sense of the pardoning love of
God, are sin ; and as such, an abomination to him 2 A. The works of
him who has heard the Gospel, and does not believe, are not done as
God hath willed and commanded them to be done. And yet we know
not how to say, that they are an abomination to the Lord, in him who
feareth God, and from that principle does the best he can. — Q. 10.
Seeing there is so much difficulty in this subject, can we deal too ten-
derly with them that oppose us? A. We cannot.”
Dr. Hales, rector of Killasandra, in Ireland, happened to tell Mr.
Wesley, that when Bishop Chevenix (of Waterford), in his old age,
was congratulated on recovering from a fever, the Bishop replied, “I
believe I am not long for this world. I have lost all relish for what
formerly gave me pleasure ; even my books no longer entertain me.
There is nothing sticks by me but the recollection of what little good I
may have done.” One of Mr. Wesley's preachers, who was present,
exclaimed at this, “Oh the vain man, boasting of his good works l’”
Dr. Hales vindicated the good old bishop, and Mr. Wesley silenced the
preacher by saying, “’Yes, Dr. Hales is right: there is indeed great
comfort in the calm remembrance of a life well spent.”
366 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
called backsliders, and still more would settle into all
the hypocritical formalities of puritanism. “Despise
not a profession of holiness,” says Osborn, “because
it may be true; but have a care how you trust it, for
fear it should be false!” -
The tendency to produce mock humility and
spiritual pride, is one of the evil effects of Methodism.
It is chargeable also with leading to bigotry, illiberal
manners, confined knowledge, and uncharitable super-
stition. In its insolent language, all unawakened
persons, that is to say, all except themselves, or such
graduated professors in other evangelical sects as
they are pleased to admit ad eundem, are con-
temptuously styled unbelievers. Wesley could not
communicate to his followers his own catholic charity;
indeed, the doctrine which he held forth was not
always consistent with his own better feelings. Still
less was he able to impart that winning deportment,
which arose, in him, from the benignity of his dis-
position, and which no Jesuit ever possessed in so
consummate a degree by art, as he by nature. The
circle to which he would have confined their reading
was narrow enough : his own works, and his own
series of abridgements, would have constituted the
main part of a Methodist’s library. But in this
respect the zeal of the pupils exceeded that of the
master; and Wesley actually gave offence by printing
Prior's Henry and Emma, in his Magazine. So many
remonstrances were made to him upon this occasion,
that he found it necessary, in a subsequent number,
to vindicate himself, by urging that there was nothing
in the poem contrary to religion, nothing which could
offend the chastest ear; that many truly religious
men and women had read it, and profited thereby;
that it was one of the finest poems in the language,
both for expression and sentiment; and that whoever
could read it without tears must have a stupid un-
OF METHODISMI, 367
feeling heart. However, he concluded, “I do not know
that any thing of the same kind will appear in any of
the following Magazines.”
In proportion as Methodism obtained ground among
the educated classes, its direct effects were evil. It
narrowed their views and feelings; burdened them
with forms; restricted them from recreations which
keep the mind in health ; discouraged, if it did not
absolutely prohibit, accomplishments that give a
grace to life; separated them from general society;
substituted a sectarian in the place of a catholic spirit;
and, by alienating them from the national Church,
weakened the strongest cement of social order, and
loosened the ties whereby men are bound to their
native land. It carried disunion and discord into
private life, breaking up families and friendships.
The sooner you weaned your affections from those
who, not being awakened, were of course in the way
to perdition — the sooner the sheep withdrew from
the goats, the better. Upon this head the monks have
not been more remorseless than the Methodists.”
Wesley has said, in one of his sermons, that, how fre-
quently parents should converse with their children
when they are grown up, is to be determined by
Christian prudence. “This also,” says he, “will de-
termine how long it is expedient for children, if it be
at their own choice, to remain with their parents. In
general, if they do not feat God, you should leave
them as soon as is convenient. But, wherever you are,
take care (if it be in your power) that they do not
4.-->
* What an old writer says of the Independents in the time of the
Commonwealth, is perfectly applicable to this worst part of Methodism.
“They take all other Christians to be heathems. These are those great
pretenders to the Spirit, into whose party does the vilest person living
mo sooner adscribe himself but he is ipso facto dubbed a saint, hallowed
and dear to God. These are the confidents who can design the minute,
the place, and the means of their conversion :-a schism full of spiritual
disdain, incharity, and high imposture, if any such there be on earth.”
—A Character of England. Scott's Somers's Tracts, vol. vii. p. 180.
368 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
want the necessaries or conveniences of life. As for
all other relations, even brothers or sisters, if they are
of the world, you are under no obligation to be in-
timate with them : you may be civil and friendly at a
distance.” What infinite domestic unhappiness must
, this abominable spirit have occasioned
Mr. Wesley's notions concerning education must
also have done great evil. No man was ever more
thoroughly ignorant of the nature of children, “Break
their wills betimes,” he says: “begin this work before
they can run alone, before they can speak plain,
perhaps before they can speak at all. Whatever pains
it costs, break the will, if you would not damn the
child. Let a child from a year old be taught to fear
the rod and to cry softly; from that age make him
do as he is bid, if you whip him ten times running to
effect it. If you spare the rod, you spoil the child:
if you do not conquer, you ruin him. Break his will
now, and his soul shall live, and he will probably bless
you to all eternity.” He exhorts parents never to
commend their children for any thing; and says,
“that in particular they should labour to convince
them of atheism, and show them that they do not
know God, love him, delight in him, or enjoy him,
any more than do the beasts that perish ' " If Wesley
had been a father himself, he would have known that
children are more easily governed by love than by
fear. There is no subject, that of government ex-
cepted, upon which so many impracticable or injurious
systems have been sent into the world, as that of
education ; and, among bad systems, that of Wesley
is one of the very worst.
The rigid doctrine which he preached concerning
riches, being only one degree more reasonable than
that of St. Francis, prevented Methodism from ex-
tending itself as it otherwise might have done, among,
those classes where these notions would have been
OF METHODISM. 369
acted upon by zealous mothers. When Wesley con-
sidered the prodigious increase of his Society, “from
two or three poor people, to hundreds, to thousands,
to myriads,” he affirmed that such an event, considered
in all its circumstances, had not been seen upon
earth since the time that St. John went to Abraham's
bosom. But he perceived where the principle of
decay was to be found. “Methodism,” says he, “is
only plain scriptural religion guarded by a few pru-
dential regulations. The essence of it is holiness of
heart and life : the circumstantials all point to this;
and, as long as they are joined together in the people
called Methodists, no weapon formed against them
shall prosper. But if ever the circumstantial parts
are despised, the essential will soon be lost; and if
ever the essential parts should evaporate, what remains
will be dung and dross. I fear, wherever riches have
increased, the essence of religion has decreased in the
same proportion. Therefore I do not see how it is
possible, in the nature of things, for any revival of
true religion to continue long. For religion must
necessarily produce both industry and frugality, and
these cannot but produce riches. But as riches in-
crease, so will pride, anger, and love of the world in
all its branches. How then is it possible that
Methodism, that is, a religion of the heart, though it
flourishes now as a green bay-tree, should continue
in this state 2 For the Methodists in every place
grow diligent and frugal; consequently they increase
in goods. Hence they proportionably increase in
pride, in anger, in the desire of the flesh, the desire of
the eyes, and the pride of life. So, although the form
of religion remains, the spirit is swiftly vanishing
away. Is there no way to prevent this — this con-
tinual decay of pure religion ? We ought not to pre-
vent people from being diligent and frugal; we must
exhort all Christians to gain all they can, and to save
WOL. II. B B
370 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
all they can ; that is, in effect, to grow rich. What
way, then, can we take, that our money may not sink
us to the nethermost hell? There is one way, and
there is no other under heaven. If those who gain
all they can, and save all they can, will likewise give
all they can, then the more they gain the more they
will grow in grace, and the more treasure they will
lay up in heaven.”
Upon this subject Wesley's opinions were incon-
sistent with the existing order of society. “Every
man,” he said, “ought to provide the plain necessaries
of life for his wife and children, and to put them into
a capacity of providing these for themselves when he is
gone: I say, these — the plain necessaries of life, not
delicacies, not superfluities; for it is no man's duty to
furnish them with the means either of luxury or
idleness. The designedly procuring more of this
world's goods than will answer the foregoing pur-
poses; the labouring after a larger measure of worldly
substance; a larger increase of gold and silver; the
laying up any more than these ends require, is ex-
pressly and absolutely forbidden.” And he main-
tained, that whoever did this practically denied the
faith, was worse than an African infidel, became an
abomination in the sight of God, and purchased for
himself hell-fire. How injurious, if such opinions were
reduced to practice, they would prove to general in-
dustry, and how incompatible they were with the
general welfare of the world, Wesley seems not to have
regarded. Not less enthusiastic in this respect than
Francis or Loyola, and not less sincere also, he ex-
claimed: “I call God to record upon my soul, that
I advise no more than I practise. I do, blessed be
God, gain, and Save, and give all I can ; and, I trust
in God, I shall do, while the breath of life is in my
nostrils.”
This was strictly true: Wesley had at heart the
OF METHODISM. . 37 |
advice which he gave.” He dwelt upon it with great
earnestness in One of his last sermons, a few months
only before his death. “After you have gained all you
can,” said he, “and saved all you can, wanting for no-
thing, spend not one pound, one shilling, or one penny,
to gratify either the desire of the flesh, the desire of
the eyes, or the pride of life, or for any other end than
to please and glorify God. Having avoided this rock
on the right hand, beware of that on the left. Hoard
nothing. Lay up no treasure on earth, but give all
$you can, that is, all you have. I defy all the men upon
earth, yea, all the angels in heaven, to find any other
way of extracting the poison from riches. After
having served you between sixty and seventy years,
with dim eyes, shaking hands, and tottering feet, I
give you this advice, before I sink into the dust.
I am pained for you that you are rich in this world.
You who receive five hundred pounds a year, and
spend only two hundred, do you give three hundred
back to God? If not, you certainly rob God of that
three hundred. You who receive two hundred, and
spend but one, do you give God the other hundred 2
If not, you rob him of just so much. “Nay, may I
not do what I will with my own?' Here lies the
ground of your mistake. It is not your own. It
* Upon this principle he began in his youth, and acted upon it
throughout his long life. “This,” said he, in a sermon, “ was the
practice of all the young men at Oxford who were called Methodists.
For example: one of them had thirty pounds a year; he lived upon
twenty-eight, and gave away forty shillings. The next year, receiving
sixty pounds, he still lived on twenty-eight, and gave away two-and-
thirty. The third year he received ninety pounds, and gave away sixty-
two. The fourth year he received an hundred and twenty pounds;
still he lived as before on twenty-eight, and gave to the poor ninety-
two.” It was of himself he spoke. It is affirmed that, in the course
of his life, he gave away not less than thirty thousand pounds; and the
assertion is probably well founded. “All the profit of his literary
labours, all that he received or could collect (and it amounted, says Mr.
Nichols, to an immense sum, for he was his own printer and bookseller),
was devoted to charitable purposes.”
B B 2
372 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
cannot be, unless you are lord of heaven and earth.
‘However, I must provide for my children.” Certainly:
but how 2 By making them rich Then you will
probably make them heathens, as some of you have
done already. Secure them enough to live on ; not in
idleness and luxury, but by honest industry, And if
you have not children, upon what scriptural or rational
principle can you leave a groat behind you more than
will bury you ? Oh! leave nothing behind you !
Send all you have before you into a better world !
Lend it, lend it all unto the Lord, and it shall be paid
you again. Haste, haste, my brethren, haste, lest you
be called away before you have settled what you have
on this security. When this is done, you may boldly
say, ‘Now I have nothing to do but to die Father,
into thy hands I commend my spirit ! Come, Lord
Jesus! come quickly l’”
There were times when Wesley perceived and
acknowledged how little real reformation had been
effected in the great body of his followers: “Might
I not have expected,” said he, “a general increase of
faith and love, of righteousness and true holiness;
yea, and of the fruits of the Spirit—love, joy, peace,
longsuffering, meekness, gentleness, fidelity, goodness,
temperance 2 Truly, when I saw what God had done
among his people between forty and fifty years ago,
when I saw them warm in their first love, magnifying
the Lord, and rejoicing in God their Saviour, I could
expect nothing less than that all these would have
lived like angels here below; that they would have
walked as continually seeing Him that is invisible,
having constant communion with the Father and the
Son, living in eternity, and walking in eternity. I
looked to see “a chosen generation, a royal priesthood,
a holy nation, a peculiar people;’ in the whole tenor
of their conversation ‘showing forth His praise who
had called them into his marvellous light.” But,
OF METHOIDISM. 373
instead of this, it brought forth error in ten thousand
shapes. It brought forth enthusiasm, imaginary in-
spiration, ascribing to the all-wise God all the wild, ab-
surd, self-inconsistent dreams of a heated imagination.
It brought forth pride. It brought forth prejudice,
evil-surmising, censoriousness, judging and condemn-
ing one another; all totally subversive of that brotherly
love which is the very badge of the Christian profes-
sion, without which whosoever liveth is counted dead
before God. It brought forth anger, hatred, malice,
revenge, and every evil word and work; all direful
fruits, not of the Holy Spirit, but of the bottomless
pit. It brought forth such base grovelling affections,
such deep earthly-mindedness as that of the poor hea-
thens, which occasioned the lamentation of their own
poet over them: O curvae in terras anima et coelestium
inames / “O souls bowed down to earth, and void of
God!” And he repeated, from the pulpit, a remark
which had been made upon the Methodists by one
whom he calls a holy man, that “never was there be-
fore a people in the Christian Church who had so
much of the power of God among them, with so little
self-denial.
Mr. Fletcher also confirms this unfavourable repre-
sentation, and indicates one of its causes. There were
members of the Society, he said, who spoke in the
most glorious manner of Christ, and of their interest
in his complete salvation, and yet were indulging the
most unchristian tempers, and living in the greatest
immoralities: “For some years,” said he, “I have
suspected there is more imaginary than unfeigned
faith in most of those who pass for believers. With
a mixture of indignation and grief have I seen them
carelessly follow the stream of corrupt nature, against
which they should have manfully wrestled; and when
they should have exclaimed against their antino-
mianism, I have heard them cry out against the
B B 3
374 • MANNERS AND EFFECTS
legality of their wicked hearts, which, they said, still
suggested they were to do something in order to sal-
vation.” Antinomianism, he said, was, in general,
“a motto better adapted to the state of professing
congregations, societies, families, and individuals, than
holiness unto the Lord, the inscription that should be
even upon our horses' bells.” He saw what evil had
been done by “making much ado about finished
Salvation.” “The smoothness of our doctrine,” said
he, “will atone for our most glaring inconsistencies.
We have so whetted the antinomian appetite of our
hearers, that they swallow down almost any thing.”
Against this error, to which the professors of sanc-
tity so easily incline, Wesley earnestly endeavoured
to guard his followers. But if on this point he was,
during the latter, and indeed the greater part of his
life, blameless, it cannot be denied that his system
tended to produce more of the appearance than of the
reality of religion. It dealt too much in sensations,
and in outward manifestations of theopathy; it made
religion too much a thing of display, an affair of
sympathy and confederation; it led persons too much
from their homes and their closets; it imposed too
many forms; it required too many professions; it
exacted too many exposures. And the necessary
consequence was, that many, when their enthusiasm
abated, became mere formalists, and kept up a Phari-
saical appearance of holiness, when the whole feeling
had evaporated.
It was among those classes of society whose moral
and religious education had been blindly and culpably
neglected, that Methodism produced an immediate
beneficial effect; and, in cases of brutal depravity
and habitual vice, it often produced a thorough re-
formation, which could not have been brought about
by any less powerful agency than that of religious
zeal. “Sinners of every other sort,” said a good old
OF METHODISM. 375
clergyman, “have I frequently known converted to
God: but an habitual drunkard I have never known
converted.” “But I,” said Wesley, “have known five
hundred, perhaps five thousand.”* To these moral
miracles he appealed in triumph, as undeniable proofs
that Methodism was an extraordinary work of God.
“I appeal,” said he, “to every candid unprejudiced
person, whether we may not at this day discern all
those signs (understanding the words in a spiritual
sense) to which our Lord referred John's disciples:
‘The blind receive their sight.' Those who were
blind from their birth, unable to see their own deplor-
able state, and much more to see God, and the remedy
he has prepared for them, in the Son of his love, now
see themselves, yea, and ‘the light of the glory of
God, in the face of Jesus Christ.’ The eyes of their
understanding being now opened, they see all things
clearly. ‘The deaf hear.’ Those that were before
utterly deaf to all the outward and inward calls of
God, now hear not only his providential calls, but
also the whispers of his grace. ‘The lame walk.’
Those who never before arose from the earth, or
moved one step toward heaven, are now walking in
all the ways of God; yea, running the race that is
set before them. ‘The lepers are cleansed.’ The
deadly leprosy of sin, which they brought with them
* I am afraid that Wesley did not refer to the same calamitous vice as
the good old clergyman meant. Wesley may have known 500 or 5000
work-people who got drunk whenever they had money to procure liquor:
this might occur twice a week, so as to fasten on the man the name of
habitual drunkard, when, in fact, a frequent drunkard was the truer
description. But the old clergyman probably meant a daily, periodical
sot, in whom the obscure will, which is the radical of his plastic life, is
infected. And here a true reformation would be a true miracle, equiva-
lent to re-creation. To such a fact, if I could ascertain it, I should
appeal with more confidence than to the sudden removal of disease from
a whole ward of an hospital. To God all things are possible; and
Christian faith is the strongest means by which he manifests his power:
I dare not, therefore, believe it impossible.—S. T. C. -
B B 4
376 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
into the world, and which no art of man could ever
cure, is now clean departed from them. And surely,
never, in any age or nation since the Apostles, have
those words been so eminently fulfilled—‘the poor
have the Gospel preached unto them'—as they are at
this day. At this day, the Gospel leaven, faith work-
ing by love, inward and outward holiness, or (to use
the terms of St. Paul) righteousness and peace, and
joy in the Holy Ghost, hath so spread in various parts
of Europe, particularly in England, Scotland, Ireland,
in the Islands, in the north and south from Georgia
to New England and Newfoundland, that sinners
have been truly converted to God, thoroughly changed
both in heart and in life, not by tens, or by hundreds
only, but by thousands, yea, by myriads. The fact
cannot be denied: we can point out the persons, with
their names and places of abode: and yet the wise
men of the world, the men of eminence, the men of
learning and renown, cannot imagine what we mean
by talking of any extraordinary work of God.”
Forcible examples are to be found of this true con-
version, this real regeneration; as well as many affect-
ing instances of the support which religion, through
the means of Methodism, has given in the severest
afflictions*, and of the peace and contentmentſ which
* In Dr. Coke's History of the West Indies there is one remarkable
instance, but it is too painful to be repeated.
t Of this there is a beautiful example in a letter written to Mr.
Wesley by one of his female disciples, who was employed in the
Orphan House at Newcastle. “I know not,” she says, “how to agree
to the not working. I am still unwilling to take any thing from any
body. I work out of choice, having never yet learned how a woman
can be idle and innocent. I have had as blessed times in my soul
sitting at work as ever I had in my life; especially in the night-time,
when I see nothing but the light of a candle and a white cloth, hear
nothing but the sound of my own breath, with God in my sight and
heaven in my soul, I think myself one of the happiest creatures below
the skies. I do not complain that God has not made me some fine
thing, to be set up to be gazed at ; but I can heartily bless him that he has
made me just what I am, a creature capable of the enjoyment of him.
OF METHODISM. 377
it has afforded to those who without it would have
been forlorn and hopeless. Many, perhaps most of
these conversions, were produced by field-preaching;
and it is probable, therefore, that Methodism did more
good in its earlier than in its latter days, when preach-
ing in the open air was gradually disused, as chapels
were multiplied. The two brothers, and the more
zealous of their followers, used at first also to fre-
quent Bedlam and the prisons, for the purpose of
administering consolation to those who stood most in
need of it. When Methodism was most unpopular,
admission at these places was refused them, which
occasioned Wesley to exclaim, “So we are forbid to
go to Newgate for fear of making them wicked, and
to Bedlam for fear of driving them mad!” In both
places, and in hospitals also, great good might be
effected by that zeal which the Methodists possess,
were it tempered with discretion. If they had insti-
tuted societies to discharge such painful offices of
humanity as are performed by the Saeurs de la
Charité in France, and by the Beguines of Bra-
bant and Flanders, the good which they might have
affected would have been duly appreciated and re-
warded by public opinion. It is remarkable, that
none of their abundant enthusiasm should have taken
this direction, and that so little use should have been
made of the opportunity when the prisons were again
self. If I go to the window and look out, I see the moon and stars:
I meditate a while on the silence of the night, consider this world as a
beautiful structure, and the work of an almighty hand; then I sit down
to work again, and think myself one of the happiest of beings in it.”
Both the feeling and the expression in this letter are so sweet, that
the reader will probably be as sorry as I was to discover that this happy
state of mind was not permanent. In a letter of Wesley's, written
three years afterwards, he says, “I know not what to do more for poor
Jenny Keith (that was her name). Alas! from what a height is she
fallen | What a burning and shining light was she six or seven years
ago But thus it ever was. Many of the first shall be last, and many
of the last first.” • ,
378 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
opened to them. The Wesleys appear not to have
repeated their visits after the exclusion. One of their
followers, by name Silas Told, a weak, credulous,
and, notwithstanding his honest zeal, not always a
credible man, attended at Newgate for more than
twenty years: his charity was bestowed almost
exclusively upon condemned criminals. After his
death he had no successor in this dismal vocation; and
the honour of having shown in what manner a prison
may be made a school of reformation, was reserved
for Mrs. Fry and the Quakers.
In estimating the effects of Methodism, the good
which it has done indirectly must not be overlooked.
As the Reformation produced a visible reform in those
parts of Christendom where the Romish Church main-
tained its supremacy, so, though in a less degree, the
progress of Wesley's disciples has been beneficial to
our Establishment, exciting in many of the parochial
clergy the zeal which was wanting. Where the
clergy exert themselves, the growth of Methodism is
checked ; and perhaps it may be said to be most useful
where it is least successful. To the impulse, also,
which was given by Methodism, that missionary spirit
may be ascribed, which is now carrying the light of
the Gospel to the uttermost parts of the earth. In no
way can religious zeal be so beneficially directed as
in this.
Some evil also, as well as some good, the Methodists
have indirectly caused. Though they became careful
in admitting lay preachers themselves, the bad example
of suffering any ignorant enthusiast to proclaim him-
self a minister of the Gospel, found numerous imitators.
The number of roving adventurers”, in all the inter-
* One magistrate in the county of Middlesex licensed fourteen hun-
dred preachers in the course of five years. Of six-and-thirty persons
who obtained licences at one sessions, six spelled “ ministers of the
Gospel” in six different ways, and seven signed their mark | One
fellow, who applied for a licence, being asked if he could read, replied,
“Mother reads, and I 'spounds and 'splains.”
OF METHODISM. 379
mediate grades between knavery and madness, who
took to preaching as a thriving trade, brought an op-
probrium upon religion itself; and when an attempt
was made at last to put an end to this scandal, a most
outrageous and unreasonable cry was raised, as if the
rights of conscience were invaded.* | Perhaps the
manner in which Methodism has familiarised the
lower classes to the work of combining in associations,
making rules for their own governance, raising funds,
and communicating from one part of the kingdom to
another, may be reckoned among the incidental evils
which have resulted from it; but in this respect it
has only facilitated a process to which other causes
had given birth. The principles of Methodism are
strictly loyal; and the language which has been held
by the Conference in all times of political disturbance,
has been highly honourable to the Society, and in
strict conformity to the intentions of the founder. On
the other hand, the good which it has done, by ren-
dering men good civil subjects, is counteracted by
separating them from the Church. This tendency
Wesley did not foresee; and when he perceived it, he
could not prevent it. But his conduct upon this
point was neither consistent nor ingenuous. Soon
after he had taken the memorable step of consecrating
* A writer in the Gospel Magazine says, concerning Lord Sidmouth's
well-meant bill, “By the grace of God I can speak for one. If in any
place I am called to preach, and cannot obtain a licence, I shall feel
myself called upon to break through all restrictions, even if death be
the consequence; for I know that God will avenge his own elect against
their persecutors, let them be who they may. The men that are sent
of God must deliver their message, whether men will hear, or whether
they will forbear; whether they can obtain a licence or not. If God
opens their mouths, none can shut them.” Every man his own pope,
and his own lawgiver ! These are days in which authority may safely
be defied in such cases: but there is no reason to doubt that the man
who speaks thus plainly would not have been so ready to break the laws
as to defy them. Had he been born in the right place and time, he
would have enjoyed a glorification in the Grass-market.
380 MANNERS AND EFFECTS
Dr. Coke as an American bishop, he arrogated to
himself the same authority for Scotland as for
America; and this, he maintained, was not a sepa-
ration from the Church ; “not from the Church of
Scotland,” said he, “for we were never connected
therewith ; not from the Church of England, for this
is not concerned in the steps which are taken in
Scotland. Whatever, then, is done, either in America
or Scotland, is no separation from the Church of
England. I have no thought of this: I have many
objections against it.” He had been led toward a se-
paration imperceptibly, step by step; but it is not to
his honour that he affected to deprecate it to the last,
while he was evidently bringing it about by the
measures which he pursued.
In the latter end of his life, the tendency to
separation was increased by the vexatious manner in
which some Lincolnshire magistrates enforced the let-
ter of the Toleration Act. They insisted, that as the
Methodists professed themselves members of the
Church, they were not within the intention of the Act:
they refused to license their chapels therefore, unless
they declared themselves dissenters: and when some
of the trustees were ready to do this, they were told
that this was not sufficient by itself; they must de-
clare also, that they scrupled to attend the service and
sacrament of the Church, the Act in question having
been made for those only who entertained such scru-
ples. This system of injurious severity did not stop
here. Understanding in what manner these magis-
trates interpreted the law, some informers took
advantage of the opportunity, and enforced the Con-
venticle Act against those who had preaching or
prayer-meetings in their houses: the persons thus
aggrieved were mostly in humble circumstances, so
that they were distressed to pay the fine; and when
they appealed to the quarter sessions, it was in vain ;
OF METHODISM. 381
the magistrates had no power to relieve them. Mr.
Wesley was irritated at this, and wrote to the Bishop
of the diocese in a tone which he had never before
assumed. “My Lord,” said he, in his letter, “I am
a dying man, having already one foot in the grave.
Humanly speaking, I cannot long creep upon the
earth, being now nearer ninety than eighty years of
age. But I cannot die in peace before I have dis-
charged this office of Christian love to your Lordship.
I write without ceremony, as neither hoping nor
fearing any thing from your Lordship, or from any
man living. And I ask, in the name and in the
presence of Him, to whom both you and I are shortly
to give an account, why do you trouble those that are
quiet in the land, - those that fear God and work
righteousness? Does your Lordship know what the
Methodists are 2 – that many thousands of them are
zealous members of the Church of England, and
strongly attached, not only to His Majesty, but to
his present ministry? Why should your Lordship,
setting religion out of the question, throw away such
a body of respectable friends? Is it for their religious
sentiments 2 Alas! my Lord, is this a time to persecute
any man for conscience sake 2 I beseech you, my
Lord, do as you would be done to. You are a man of
sense; you are a man of learning; nay, I verily
believe (what is of infinitely more value) you are a
man of piety. Then think, and let think. I pray
God to bless you with the choicest of his blessings.””
These circumstances occurred a few months only
before his death. His friends advised that an applica-
* In the life of Wesley by Dr. Coke and Mr. Moore, there is a
letter upon this occasion in a more angry strain. Probably Mr. Wesley
upon reflection saw that he had written in an unbecoming manner, and
substituted in its place that which I have copied from the life by Dr.
Whitehead. The official biographers indeed had in their hands such
private documents only as had not been entrusted to the Doctor.
382 MANNERS AND EFFECTS OF METHODISM.
tion should be made to Parliament for the repeal of
the Conventicle Act. In some shape, it cannot be
doubted but that relief would have been afforded, and
several members of the House of Commons, who re-
spected Mr. Wesley, would have stirred in his behalf.
But his growing infirmities prevented him from
exerting himself, upon this business as he would
otherwise have done.
383
CHAPTER XXX.
WESIEY IN OLD AGE.
“LEISURE and I,” said Wesley, “have taken leave of
one another. I propose to be busy as long as I live,
if my health is so long indulged to me.” This reso-
lution was made in the prime of life, and never was
resolution more punctually observed. “Lord, let me
not live to be useless l’’ was the prayer which he ut-
tered after seeing one, whom he had long known as
an active and useful magistrate, reduced by age to be
“a picture of human nature in disgrace, feeble in body
and mind, slow of speech and understanding.” He was
favoured with a constitution vigorous beyond that of
ordinary men, and with an activity of spirit which is even
rarer than his singular felicity of health and strength.
Ten thousand cares of various kinds, he said, were no
more weight or burden to his mind than ten thousand
hairs were to his head. But, in truth, his only cares
were those of superintending the work of his ambition,
which continually prospered under his hands. Real
cares he had none: no anxieties, no sorrows, no griefs
which touched him to the quick. His manner of life
was the most favourable that could have been devised
for longevity. He rose early, and lay down at night
with nothing to keep him waking, or trouble him in
sleep. His mind was always in a pleasurable and
wholesome state of activity; he was temperate in his
diet, and lived in perpetual locomotion: and frequent
change of air is perhaps of all things that which most
conduces to joyous health and long life.
The time which Mr. Wesley spent in travelling was
384 WESLEY IN OTLD AGE.
not lost. “History, poetry, and philosophy,” said he,
“I commonly read on horseback, having other em-
ployment at other times.” He used to throw the
reins on his horse's neck; and in this way he rode, in
the course of his life, above a hundred thousand miles,
without any accident of sufficient magnitude to make
him sensible of the danger which he incurred. His
friends, however, saw the danger; and in the sixty-
ninth year of his age, they prevailed upon him to
travel in a carriage, in consequence of a hurt which
had produced a hydrocele. The ablest practitioners
in Edinburgh were consulted upon his case, and as-
sured him there was but one method of cure. “Per-
haps but one natural one,” says he, “but I think God
has more than one method of healing either the soul
or the body.” He read, upon the subject, a treatise
which recommends a seton or a caustic; “but I am
not inclined,” said he, “to try either of them: I know
a physician that has a shorter cure than either one or
the other.” After two years, however, he submitted
to an operation, and obtained a cure.* A little before
this, he notices in his Journal the first night that he
had ever lain awake : “I believe,” he adds, “few can
say this; in seventy years I never lost one night's
sleep.”
He lived to preach at Kingswood under the shade
of trees which he had planted; and he outlived the
lease of the Foundryi, the place which had been the
* “Mr. Wathen performed the operation, and drew off something
more than half a pint of a thin, yellow, transparent water ; with this
came out (to his no small surprise) a pearl of the size of a small shot,
which he supposed might be one cause of the disorder, by occasioning,
a conflux of humours to the part.” — Journal xvii. p. 8. What an
extraordinary relic would this pearl have been, had it been extracted
from a Romish saint I know not whether there be any other case
recorded of physical oystracism.
f Silas Told describes this, in the year 1740, as “a ruinous place,
with an old pantile covering, a few rough deal boards put together to
constitute a temporary pulpit, and several other decayed timbers, which
WESLEY IN OLD AGE. 385
cradle of Methodism. In 1778, the head-quarters of
the Society were removed to the City-road, where a
new chapel was built upon ground leased by the City.
Great multitudes assembled to see the ceremony of
laying the foundation, so that Wesley could not, with-
out much difficulty, get through the press to lay the
first stone, in which his name and the date were in-
serted upon a plate of brass: “This was laid by John
Wesley, on April 1. 1777.” “Probably,” says he,
“this will be seen no more by any human eye, but
will remain there till the earth and the works thereof
are burnt up.” Charles, having long ceased to itine-
rate, used to officiate here; and the lay preachers,
who were always jealous of him, were greatly offended,
because he excluded them from the pulpit by serving the
chapel twice on Sundays, when John was not in town.
They complained of this, as invidious and derogatory to
themselves; and Wesley so far yielded to their impor-
tunities as to promise that one of their body should
preach when Charles could not, an arrangement which
preferred them to the clergymen in the Connection.
Charles was hurt at this concession of his brother's,
and with good reason. He represented that many
persons, who had subscribed towards the building of
the chapel, and were friends to Methodism, were yet
not members of the Society, but true Churchmen; and
that, from regard to them and to the Church, not out
of ill will to the preachers, he wished the Church service
to be continued there; for this also was made a matter
of complaint against him. Next to his brother, he
affirmed, he had the best right to preach there ; and
he used it because he had so short a time to preach
composed the whole structure.” No doubt it was improved afterwards.
Mr. Wesley's preaching hours, when he began there, were five in the
morning and seven in the evening, for the convenience of the labouring
part of the congregation. The men and women sate apart, and there
were no pews, or difference of benches, or appointed place for any
person.
VOI, II. C C
386 &O
WESLEY IN OLD AGE.
any where. “I am sorry,” said he, “you yielded to
the lay preachers: I think them in the greatest dam-
ger through pride. They affect to believe that I act
as a clergyman in opposition to them. If there was
no man above them, what would become of them 1–
how would they tear one another in pieces! Con-
vince them, if you can, that they want a clergyman
over them to keep them and the flock together. But
rather persuade them, if you can, to be the least, not
the greatest, and then all will be right again. You
have no alternative but to conquer that spirit, or be
conquered by it. The preachers do not love the
Church of England. What must be the consequence
when we are gone? A separation is inevitable. Do
you not wish to keep as many good people in the
Church as you can 2 Something might be done to
save the remainder, if you had resolution, and would
stand by me as firmly as I will by you.”
This ill-temper in the preachers produced a schism
in the Connection. An Irish clergyman, being at
Bath on account of his wife's health, was desired by
Mr. Wesley to preach every Sunday evening in the
Methodist Chapel, as long as he remained there. As
soon as Wesley had left that city, a lay preacher, by
name M'Nab, raised a sort of rebellion upon this
ground, saying it was the common cause of all the
lay preachers, for they were appointed by the Con-
ference, not by Mr. Wesley, and they would not suffer
the clergy to ride over their heads. This touched
Mr. Wesley where he was most sensitive. He set out
for Bath, summoned the Society, and read to them a
paper which he had drawn up many years before,
upon a somewhat similar occasion, and which had
been read to the Conference of 1766.* He observed
that the rules of the preachers were fixed by him
* The substance of this paper has been previously given, Vol. II.
pp. 98—101.
WESLEY IN OLD AGE. 387
before any Conference existed, and that the twelfth
rule stated, “above all, you are to preach when and
where I appoint.” This fundamental rule M'Nab had
opposed, and therefore he expelled him. But the
mutinous preacher had “thrown wildfire among the
people; and occasioned anger, jealousies, judging each
other, backbiting, and tale-bearing without end:”
strange weeds to spring up in the garden of Christian
perfection
On this occasion, as on all others, when his autho-
rity was invaded, Wesley acted with promptitude and
decision. He had great talents for government; and
even when it was necessary to conform to circum-
stances which he could not control, he understood
how important it was that he should never appear to
yield. But though, by his presence of mind, and
skill in directing the minds of men, he contrived in
difficult circumstances to save himself from any sacri-
fice of pride, he was not always so successful on the
score of principle; for his attachment to the Church
was sacrificed to the desire of extending and pre-
serving his power. Contented if he could stave off
the separation as long as he lived, he took measures
which prepared for it, just as he provided a system
by which the constitution of his Society should be-
come republican after his death, satisfied with main-
taining his authority over it as a monarch during his
life.
The remarkable talents with which the Wesley
family were endowed, manifested themselves in the
third generation as strikingly as in the second. The
two sons of Charles were among the most distin-
guished musicians of their age. Their father, per-
ceiving the decided bent of their genius, very properly
permitted them to follow it, and make the science of
music their profession. In a letter to his brother, he
said, “I am clear, without doubt, that my sons' con-
C C 2
388 WESLEY IN () LID AGE.
cert is after the will and order of Providence.” When
John printed this letter, after his brother's death, he
added, in a note, “I am clear of another mind.” Dr.
Coke also looked upon the concerts which were per-
formed in Charles Wesley's own house as being highly
dishonourable to God, and considered him as criminal,
“by reason of his situation in the Church of Christ.”
But upon mature consideration the Doctor saw reason
to alter this severe opinion. “It has established
them,” said Charles, “as musicians, in a safe and
honourable way. We do not repent that we did not
make a show or advantage of our Swans. They may
still make their fortunes, if I will venture them into
the world; but I never wish them rich : you also
agree with me in this. Our good old father neglected
every opportunity of selling our souls to the Devil.”
One of these brothers became a papist, to the sore
grief of his parents. Upon this occasion John ad-
dressed a letter to them, saying, he doubted not that
they were in great trouble, because their son had
“changed his religion; ” and, deducing a topic of
consolation from the inaccuracy of that expression,
“Nay,” said he, “he has changed his opinions and
mode of worship, but that is not religion ; it is quite
another thing. Has he then, you may ask, sustained
no loss by the change 2 Yes, unspeakable loss; be-
cause his new opinions and mode of worship are so
unfavourable to religion, that they make it, if not
impossible to one that knew better, yet extremely
difficult. What, then, is religion ? It is happiness
in God, or in the knowledge and love of God. It is
“faith working by love ; ' producing ‘righteousness,
and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.’ In other
words, it is a heart and life devoted to God; or com-
munion with God the Father and the Son ; or the
mind which was in Christ Jesus, enabling us to walk
as he walked. Now, either he has this religion, or
WESLEY IN OLD AGE. 389
he has not : if he has, he will not finally perish, not-
withstanding the absurd unscriptural opinions he has
embraced, and the superstitious and idolatrous modes
of worship. But these are so many shackles which
will greatly retard him in running the race that is
set before him. If he has not this religion — if he has
not given God his heart, the case is unspeakably
worse: I doubt if he ever will; for his new friends
will continually endeavour to hinder him, by putting
something else in its place, by encouraging him to
rest in the form, notions, or externals, without being
born again ; without having Christ in him, the hope
of glory; without being renewed in the image of
Him that created him. This is the deadly evil. I
have often lamented that he had not this holiness,
without which no man can see the Lord. But though
he had it not, yet, in his hours of cool reflection, he
did not hope to go to heaven without it; but now he
is or will be taught, that, let him only have a right
faith (that is, such and such notions), and add there-
unto such and such eaternals, and he is quite safe.
He may indeed roll a few years in purging fire, but
he will surely go to heaven at last.”
The father felt this evil so deeply, that, it is as-
serted, one of the last things he said upon his death-
bed was to declare his forgiveness of the person by
whose means his son had been perverted. To Mr.
Wesley it was a mortification as well as a grief; for
he had exposed the errors of the Romanists in some
controversial writings, perspicuously and forcibly.
One of those writings gave the Catholics an advan-
tage, because it defended the Protestant Association
of 1780; and the events which speedily followed,
were turned against him. But, upon the great points
in dispute, he was clear and cogent; and the temper
of this, as of his other controversial tracts, was such,
that, some years afterwards, when a common friend
C C 3
390 WESLEY IN OLD AGE.
invited him to meet his antagonist, Father O'Leary,
it was gratifying to both parties to meet upon terms
of courtesy and mutual good will.
Before Mr. Wesley submitted to the operation, he
considered himself as almost a disabled soldier; so
little could he reconcile himself to the restriction
from horse-exercise. So perfectly, however, was he
re-established in health, that, a few months after-
wards, upon entering his seventy-second year, he
asked, “How is this, that I find just the same
strength as I did thirty years ago; that my sight is
considerably better now, and my nerves firmer than
they were then *; that I have none of the infirmities
of old age, and have lost several I had in my youth 2
The grand cause is the good pleasure of God, who
doth whatsoever pleaseth him. The chief means are,
my constantly rising at four for about fifty years;
my generally preaching at five in the morning—one
of the most healthy exercises in the world; my never
travelling less, by sea or land, than four thousand
five hundred miles in a year.” Repeating the same
question after another year had elapsed, he added to
this list of natural means, “the ability, if ever I
want, to sleep immediately; the never losing a night's
sleep in my life; two violent fevers, and two deep
consumptions; these, it is true, were rough medi-
cines; but they were of admirable service, causing
my flesh to come again as the flesh of a little child.
May I add, lastly, evenness of temper : I feel and
grieve ; but, by the grace of God, I fret at nothing.
But still, the help that is done upon earth, He doth it
* Mr. Wesley believed that the use of tea made his hand shake so
before he was twenty years old, that he could hardly write. He pub-
lished an essay against tea-drinking, and left it off during twelve years;
then, “at the close of a consumption,” by Dr. Fothergill's directions,
he used it again, and probably learnt how much he had been mistaken
in attributing ill effects to so refreshing and innocent a beverage.
WESLEY IN OLD AGE. 39 |
himself; and this he doth in answer to many
prayers.”
He himself had prayed that he might not live to
be useless ; and the extraordinary vigour which he
preserved to extreme old age, might well make him
believe, that, in this instance, his heart's desire had
been granted. The seventy-eighth year of his age
found him, he says, “by the blessing of God,” just the
same as when he entered the twenty-eighth *; and,
upon entering his eightieth, he blessed God that his
time was not labour and sorrow, and that he found
no more infirmities than when he was in the flower
of manhood. But though this uncommon exemption
from the burden of age was vouchsafed him, it was
not in the nature of things that he should be spared
from its feelings and regrets. The days of his child-
hood returned upon him when he visited Epworth ;
and, taking a solitary walk in the churchyard of that
place, he says, “I felt the truth of ‘one generation
goeth, and another cometh.’ See how the earth drops
its inhabitants, as the tree drops its leaves!” Where-
ever he went, his old disciples had past away, and
other generations had succeeded in their stead; and
at the houses to which he looked on with pleasure in
the course of his yearly rounds, he found more and
more frequently, in every succeeding year, that death
had been before him. Whole families dropt off, one
by one, while he continued still in his green old age,
full of life, and activity, and strength, and hope, and
ardour. Such griefs were felt by him less keenly
than by other men; because every day brought with
it to him change of scene and of persons; and be.
cause, busy as he was on earth, his desires were in
*
heaven. “I had hopes,” says he, in his Journal, “of
* “In the year 1769,” he says, “I weighed a hundred and twenty-
two pounds. In 1783, I weighed not a pound more or less.”.
C C 4
392 WWESLEY IN OLD AG E.
seeing a friend at Lewisham in my way: and so I
did ; but it was in her coffin. It is well, since she
finished her course with joy. In due time I shall see
her in glory.” To one of his young female corre-
spondents he says, with melancholy anticipation, “I
sometimes fear lest you also, as those I tenderly love
generally have been, should be snatched away. But
let us live to-day !” Many of his most ardent and
most amiable disciples seem to have been cut off, in
the flower of their youth, by consumption—a disease
too frequently connected with what is beautiful in
form, and intellect, and disposition.
Mr. Fletcher, though a much younger man, was
summoned to his reward before him. That excellent
person left England, under all the symptoms of
advanced consumption, to try the effect of his native
air; and, in the expectation of death, addressed a
pastoral letter at that time to his parishioners.” “I
* In the year 1788, Mr. Wesley printed a letter written to him from
France in 1770, by Mr. Fletcher, in which the following remarkable
passage occurs: “A set of Free-thinkers (great admirers of Voltaire
and Rousseau, Bayle, and Mirabeau,) seem bent upon destroying Chris-
tianity and government. With one hand, says a lawyer, who has written
against them, they shake the throne, and with the other they throw down.
the altar. If we believe them, the world is the dupe of kings and
priests; religion is fanaticism and superstition ; subordination is slavery
and tyranny ; Christian morality is absurd, unnatural, and impractica-
ble ; and Christianity is the most bloody religion that ever was. And
here it is certain that, by the example of Christians, so called, and by
our continual disputes, they have a great advantage. Popery will cer-
tainly fall in France in this or the next century; and God will use these
vain men to bring about a reformation here, as he used Henry VIII.
to do that great work in England: so the madness of his enemies shall turn
at last to his praise, and to the furtherance of his kingdom. If you ask
what system these men adopt, I answer, that some build, upon Deism,
a morality founded upon self-preservation, self-interest, and self-honour.
Others laugh at all morality, except that which violently disturbs society;
and external order is the decent cover of fatalism ; while materialism is
their system.” He invites all Christians “to do what the herds do on the
Swiss mountains, when the wolves make an attack upon them : instead
of goring one another, they unite, form a close battalion, and face the
enemy on all sides.”
MR. FLETCHER. 393
sometimes,” said he, “feel a desire of being buried
where you are buried, and having my bones lie in a
common earthen bed with yours. But I soon resign
that wish; and, leaving that particular to Providence,
exult in thinking, that neither life nor death shall
ever be able (while we hang on the Crucified, as He
hung on the cross,) to separate us from Christ our
head, nor from the love of each other, his members.”
His recovery, which appears almost miraculous, was
ascribed by himself more to eating plentifully of
cherries and grapes, than to any other remedies. His
friends wished him to remain among them at Nyon:
“they urged my being born here,” said he, “and I
reply, that I was born again in England, and there-
fore that is, of course, the country which to me is the
dearer of the two.” He returned to his parish, and
married Miss Bosanquet; a woman perfectly suited
to him in age, temper, piety, and talents. “We are
two poor invalids,” said he, “who, between us, make
half a labourer. She sweetly helps me to drink the
dregs of life, and to carry with ease the daily cross.”
His account of himself, after this time, is so beautiful,
that its insertion might be pardoned here, even if Mr.
Fletcher were a less important personage in the his-
tory of Methodism. “I keep in my sentry-box,” says
he, “till Providence removeme: my situation is quite
suited to my little strength. I may do as much or
as little as I please, according to my weakness; and
I have an advantage, which I can have no where else
in such a degree: my little field of action is just at
my door, so that, if I happen to overdo myself, I
have but a step from my pulpit to my bed, and from
my bed to my grave. If I had a body full of vigour,
and a purse full of money, I should like well enough
to travel about as Mr. Wesley does; but, as Provi-
dence does not call me to it, I readily submit. The
snail does best in its shell.”
394 WESLEY IN OLD AGE.
This good man died in 1785, and in the 56th year
of his age. Volumes have been filled, and are per-
petually being filled, by sectarians of every description,
with accounts of the behaviour and triumphant hopes
of the dying, all resembling each other; but the cir-
cumstances of Mr. Fletcher's death were as peculiar
as those of his life. He had taken cold, and a con-
siderable degree of fever had been induced; but no
persuasion could prevail upon him to stay from
church on the Sunday, nor even to permit that any
part of the service should be performed for him. It
was the will of the Lord, he said, that he should go;
and he assured his wife and his friends that God
would strengthen him to go through the duties of
the day. Before he had proceeded far in the service,
he grew pale, and faltered in his speech, and could
scarcely keep himself from fainting. The congre-
gation were greatly affected and alarmed; and Mrs.
Fletcher, pressing through the crowd, earnestly
entreated him not to persevere in what was so evi-
dently beyond his strength. He recovered, however,
when the windows were opened, exerted himself
against the mortal illness which he felt, went through
the service, and preached with remarkable earnest-
ness, and with not less effect, for his parishioners
plainly saw that the hand of death was upon him.
After the sermon, he walked to the communion-table,
saying, “I am going to throw myself under the wings
of the Cherubim, before the Mercy-seat l” “Here”
(it is his widow who describes this last extraordinary
effort of enthusiastic devotion) “the same distressing
scene was renewed, with additional solemnity. The
people were deeply affected while they beheld him
offering up the last languid remains of a life that had
been lavishly spent in their service. Groans and
tears were on every side. In going through this last
part of his duty, he was exhausted again and again;
DEATH OF MIR. FLETCHER 395
but his spiritual vigour triumphed over his bodily
weakness. After several times sinking on the Sacra-
mental table, he still resumed his sacred work, and
cheerfully distributed, with his dying hand, the love-
memorials of his dying Lord. In the course of this
concluding office, which he performed by means of
the most astonishing exertions, he gave out several
verses of hymns, and delivered many affectionate
exhortations to his people, calling upon them, at
intervals, to celebrate the mercy of God in short
songs of adoration and praise. And now, having
struggled through a service of near four hours' con-
tinuance, he was supported, with blessings in his
mouth, from the altar to his chamber, where he lay
for some time in a swoon, and from whence he never
walked into the world again.” Mr. Fletcher's nearest
and dearest friends sympathised entirely with him in
his devotional feelings, and therefore they seem never
to have entertained a thought that this tragedy may
have exasperated his disease, and proved the direct
occasion of his death. “I besought the Lord,” says
Mrs. Fletcher, “if it were his good pleasure, to spare
him to me a little longer. But my prayer seemed to
have no wings; and I could not help mingling con-
tinually there with, Lord, give me perfect resignation!”
On the Sunday following he died; and that day
also was distinguished by circumstances not less
remarkable. A supplicatory hymn for his recovery
was sung in the church; and one who was present
says, it is impossible to convey an idea of the burst
of sorrow that accompanied it. “The whole village,”
says his friend Mr. Gilpin, “wore an air of conster-
nation and sadness. Hasty messengers were passing
to and fro, with anxious inquiries and confused
reports; and the members of every family sate to-
gether in silence that day, awaiting with trembling
expectation the issue of every hour.” After the
396 WESLEY IN OLD AGE.
evening service, several of the poor, who came from
a distance, and who were usually entertained under
his roof, lingered about the house, and expressed an
earnest wish that they might see their expiring pastor.
Their desire was granted. The door of his chamber
was set open; directly opposite to which, he was
sitting upright in his bed, with the curtains undrawn,
“unaltered in his usual venerable appearance;” and
they passed along the gallery one by one, pausing as
they passed by the door, to look upon him for the
last time. A few hours after this extraordinary
scene he breathed his last, without a struggle or a
groan, in perfect peace, and in the fulness of faith
and of hope. Such was the death of Jean Guillaume
de la Flechere, or as he may more properly be desig-
nated, in this his adopted country, Fletcher of Made-
ley, a man of whom Methodism may well be proud,
as the most able of its defenders; and whom the
Church of England may hold in honourable remem-
brance, as one of the most pious and excellent of her
sons. “I was intimately acquainted with him,” says
Mr. Wesley, “for above thirty years. I conversed
with him morning, noon, and night, without the least
reserve, during a journey of many hundred miles;
and in all that time I never heard him speak one
improper word, nor saw him do an improper action.
Many exemplary men have I known, holy in heart
and life, within fourscore years; but one equal to
him I have not known: one so inwardly and out-
wardly devoted to God, so unblameable a character
in every respect, I have not found, either in Europe
or America. Nor do I expect to find another such
on this side of eternity.” .
Wesley thought, that if Mr. Fletcher's friends had
not dissuaded him from continuing that course of
itinerancy which he began in his company, it would
have made him a strong man. And that, after his
WESLEY IN OLD AGE. 397
health was restored by his native air, and confirmed
by his wife's constant care, if “he had used this
health in travelling all over the kingdom five, or six,
or seven months every year, (for which never was
man more eminently qualified, no, not Mr. Whitefield
himself,) he would have done more good than any
other man in England. I cannot doubt,” he adds,
“but this would have been the more excellent way.”
It had been Mr. Wesley's hope, at one time, that after
his death, Mr. Fletcher would succeed to the supre-
macy of the spiritual dominion which he had esta-
blished. Mr. Fletcher was qualified for the succession
by his thorough disregard of worldly advantages, his
perfect piety, his devotedness to the people among
whom he ministered, his affable manner, and his
popular and persuasive Oratory, - qualifications in
which he was not inferior to Wesley himself. But
he had neither the ambition nor the flexibility of Mr.
Wesley; he would not have known how to rule or
how to yield as he did : holiness with him was all in
all. Wesley had the temper and talents of a states-
man: in the Romish Church he would have been the
general, if not the founder, of an order; or might
have held a distinguished place in history, as a cardi-
nal or a pope. Fletcher, in any communion, would
have been a saint. .
Mr. Wesley still continued to be the same marvel-
lous old man. No one who saw him, even casually,
in his old age, can have forgotten his venerable ap-
pearance. His face was remarkably fine; his com-
plexion fresh to the last week of his life; his eye
quick, and keen, and active. When you met him in
the street of a crowded city, he attracted notice, not
only by his band and cassock, and his long hair,
white and bright as silver, but by his pace and man-
ner, both indicating that all his minutes were num-
bered, and that not one was to be lost. “Though I
398 WESLEY IN OLD AGE.
am always in haste,” he says of himself, “I am never
in a hurry; because I never undertake any more work
than I can go through with perfect calmness of spirit.
It is true, I travel four or five thousand miles in a
year; but I generally travel alone in my carriage,
and, consequently, am as retired ten hours a day as if
I were in a wilderness. On other days, I never spend
less than three hours (frequently ten or twelve) in
the day alone. So there are few persons who spend
so many hours secluded from all company.” Thus it
was that he found time to read much, and write
voluminously. After his eightieth year, he went
twice to Holland, a country in which Methodism, as
Quakerism had done before it, met with a certain
degree of success. Upon completing his eighty-
second year, he says, “Is anything too hard for God?
It is now eleven years since I have felt any such
thing as weariness. Many times I speak till my voice
fails, and I can speak no longer. Frequently I walk
till my strength fails, and I can walk no farther; yet,
even then, I feel no sensation of weariness, but am
perfectly easy from head to foot. I dare not impute
this to natural causes. It is the will of God.” A
year afterwards he says, “I am a wonder to myself!
I am never tired (such is the goodness of God), either
with writing, preaching, or travelling. One natural
cause, undoubtedly, is, my continual exercise, and
change of air. How the latter contributes to health
I know not; but certainly it does.” In his eighty-
fourth year, he first began to feel decay; and, upon
commencing his eighty-fifth, he observes, “I am not
so agile as I was in times past; I do not run or walk
so fast as I did. My sight is a little decayed. My
left eye is grown dim, and hardly serves me to read.
I have daily some pain in the ball of my right eye, as
also in my right temple (occasioned by a blow re-
ceived some months since), and in my right shoulder
WESLEY IN OLD AGE. 399
and arm, which I impute partly to a sprain, and
partly to the rheumatism. I find, likewise, some de-
cay in my memory with regard to names and things
lately past; but not at all with regard to what I have
read or heard twenty, forty, or sixty years ago.
Neither do I find any decay in my hearing, smell,
taste, or appetite, (though I want but a third part of
the food I did once,) nor do I feel any such thing as
weariness, either in travelling or preaching. And I
am not conscious of any decay in writing sermons,
which I do as readily, and, I believe, as correctly, as
ever.” He acknowledged, therefore, that he had
cause to praise God for bodily as well as spiritual
blessings; and that he had suffered little, as yet, by
“the rush of numerous years.” -
Other persons perceived his growing weakness, be-
fore he was thus aware of it himself: the most marked
symptom was that of a frequent disposition to sleep
during the day. He had always been able to lie down
and sleep almost at will, like a mere animal, or a man
in little better than an animal state, – a consequence,
probably, of the incessant activity of his life: this he
himself rightly accounted one of the causes of his ex-
cellent health, and it was, doubtless, a consequence
of it also. But the involuntary slumbers which came
upon him in the latter years of his life, were indica-
tions that the machine was wearing out, and would
soon come to a stop. In 1788, he lost his brother
Charles, who, during many years, had been his zealous
coadjutor, and, through life, his faithful and affec-
tionate friend. Latterly their opinions had differed.
Charles saw the evil tendency of some part of the dis.
cipline, and did not hesitate to say that he abomi-
nated the band-meetings, which he had formerly
approved; and, adhering faithfully himself to the
Church, he regretted the separation which he foresaw,
and disapproved of John's conduct, in taking steps
400 DEATH OF CHARLES WESLEY.
which manifestly tended to facilitate it. Indeed, Mr.
Wesley laid aside, at last, all those pretensions by
which he had formerly excused himself; and, in the
year 1787, with the assistance of two of his clerical
coadjutors, Mr. Creighton and Mr. Peard Dickinson,
he ordained two of his preachers, and consecrated
Mather a bishop or superintendent. But this decided
difference of opinion produced no diminution of love
between the two brothers. They had agreed to dif.
fer; and, to the last, John was not more jealous of
his own authority, than Charles was solicitous that
he should preserve it. “Keep it while you live,” he
said, “and after your death, detur digniori, or rather,
dignioribus. You cannot settle the succession: you
cannot divine how God will settle it.” Charles,
though he attained to his eightieth year, was a vale-
tudinarian through the greatest part of his life, in
consequence, it is believed, of having injured his con-
stitution by close application and excessive abstinence
at Oxford. He had always dreaded the act of dying;
and his prayer was, that God would grant him pa-
tience and an easy death. A calmer frame of mind,
and an easier passage, could not have been granted
him; the powers of life were fairly worn out, and,
without any disease, he fell asleep. By his own de-
sire he was buried, not in his brother's burying-
ground, because it was not consecrated, but in the
churchyard of Mary-le-bone, the parish in which he
resided; and his pall was supported by eight clergy-
men of the Church of England.
It was reported that Charles had said, his brother
would not outlive him more than a year. The pre-
diction might have been hazarded with sufficient like-
lihood of its fulfilment; for John was then drawing
near the grave. Upon his eighty-sixth birthday, he
says, “I now find I grow old. My sight is decayed,
so that I cannot read a small print, unless in a strong
WESLEY, IN OLD AGE. 401
light. My strength is decayed; so that I walk much
slower than I did some years since. My memory of
names, whether of persons or places, is decayed, till I
stop a little to recollect them. What I should be
afraid of is, if I took thought for the morrow, that my
body should weigh down my mind, and create either
stubbornness, by the decrease of my understanding,
or peevishness, by the increase of bodily infirmities.
But thou shalt answer for me, O Lord, my God l’”
His strength now diminished so much, that he found
it difficult to preach more than twice a day; and for
many weeks he abstained from his five o'clock morning
sermons, because a slow and settled fever parched his
mouth. Finding himself a little better, he resumed
the practice, and hoped to hold on a little longer; but,
at the beginning of the year 1790, he writes, “I am
now an old man, decayed from head to foot. My eyes
are dim; my right hand shakes much ; my mouth is
hot and dry every morning; I have a lingering fever
almost every day; my motion is weak and slow. How-
ever, blessed be God! I do not slack my labours: I
can preach and write still.” In the middle of the same
year, he closed his cash account-book with the follow-
ing words, written with a tremulous hand, so as to be
scarcely legible: “For upwards of eighty-six years I
have kept my accounts exactly: I will not attempt it
any longer, being satisfied with the continual convic-
tion, that I save all I can, and give all I can ; that is,
all I have.” His strength was now quite gone, and
no glasses would help his sight. “But I feel no pain,”
he says, “from head to foot; only, it seems, nature is
exhausted, and, humanly speaking, will sink more and
more, till
The weary springs of life stand still at last.”
On the 1st of February, 1791, he wrote his last
letter to America. It shows how anxious he was that
VOL. II. ID T)
402 DEATH OF WESLEY.
his followers should consider themselves as one united
body. “See,” said he, “that you never give place to
one thought of separating from your brethren in Eu-
rope. Lose no opportunity of declaring to all men,
that the Methodists are one people in all the world,
and that it is their full determination so to continue.”
He expressed also a sense that his hour was almost
come. “Those that desire to write,” said he, “ or say
any thing to me, have no time to lose; for time has
shaken me by the hand, and death is not far behind:”
—words which his father had used in one of the last
letters that he addressed to his sons at Oxford. On
the 17th of that month, he took cold after preaching
at Lambeth. For some days he struggled against an
increasing fever, and continued to preach till the
Wednesday following, when he delivered his last ser-
mon. From that time he became daily weaker and
more lethargic, and on the 2d of March he died in
peace; being in the eighty-eighth year of his age, and
the sixty-fifth of his ministry.
During his illness he said, “Let me be buried in
nothing but what is woollen; and let my corpse be
carried in my coffin into the chapel.” Some years
before, he had prepared a vault for himself, and for
those itinerant preachers who might die in London.
In his will he directed, that six poor men should have
twenty shillings each for carrying his body to the
grave; “for I particularly desire,” said he, “that there
may be no hearse, no coach, no escutcheon, no pomp
except the tears of them that loved me, and are fol-
lowing me to Abraham's bosom. I solemnly adjure
my executors, in the name of God, punctually to ob-
serve this.” At the desire of many of his friends, his
body was carried into the chapel the day preceding the
interment, and there lay in a kind of state becoming
the person, dressed in his clerical habit, with gown,
cassock, and band; the old clerical cap. On his head; a
WESLEY'S FUNERAL. 403
Bible in one hand, and a white handkerchief in the
other. The face was placid, and the expression which
death had fixed upon his venerable features, was that
of a serene and heavenly smile. The crowds who
flocked to see him were so great, that it was thought
prudent, for fear of accidents, to accelerate the funeral,
and perform it between five and six in the morning.
The intelligence, however, could not be kept entirely
secret, and several hundred persons attended at that
unusual hour. Mr. Richardson, who performed the
service, had been one of his preachers almost thirty
years. When he came to that part of the service,
“Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God to take
unto himself the Soul of our dear brother,” his voice
changed, and he substituted the word father; and the
feeling with which he did this was such, that the con-
gregation, who were shedding silent tears, burst at
Once into loud weeping.
Mr. Wesley left no other property behind him than
the copyright and current editions of his works, and
this he bequeathed to the use of the Connection after
his debts should have been paid. There was a debt
of one thousand six hundred pounds to the family of
his brother Charles; and he had drawn also for some
years upon the fund for superannuated preachers, to
support those who were in full employment. When
he was told that some persons murmured at this, he
used to answer, “What can I do º Must the work
stand still 2 The men and their families cannot starve.
I have no money. Here it is : we must use it ; it is
for the Lord's work.” The money thus appropriated,
and the interest due upon it, amounted to a con-
siderable sum. In building chapels, also, the expenses
of the Connection outran its means, so that its finances
were left in an embarrassed state. The number of
his preachers at the time of his death amounted in the
British dominions to 313, in the United States to
D D 2
404 CONCLUSION.
198; the number of members in the British dominions
was 76,968, in the United States 57,621.
Such was the life, and such the labours of John
Wesley; a man of great views, great energy, and great
virtues. “That he awakened a zealous spirit, not only
in his own community, but in a Church which needed
something to quicken it, is acknowledged by the
mémbers of that Church itself; that he encouraged
enthusiasm and extravagance, lent a ready ear to false
and impossible relations, and spread superstition as
well as piety, would hardly be denied by the candid
and judicious among his own people.” In its immediate
effects, the powerful principle of religion which he and
his preachers diffused, has reclaimed many from a
course of sin, has supported many in poverty, sickness,
and affliction, and has imparted to many a triumphant
joy in death. What Wesley says of the miracles
wrought at the tomb of the Abbé Paris, may fitly be
applied here : “In many of these instances, I see
great superstition, as well as strong faith: but God
makes allowance for invincible ignorance, and blesses
the faith, notwithstanding the Superstition.” Con-
cerning the general and remoter consequences of
Methodism, opinions will differ. They who consider
the wide-spreading schism to which it has led, and
who know that the welfare of the country is vitally
connected with its Church Establishment, may think
that the evil overbalances the good. But the good
may endure, and the evil be only for a time. In
every other sect there is an inherent spirit of hostility
to the Church of England, too often and too naturally
connected with diseased political opinions. So it was
in the beginning, and so it will continue to be, as long
as those sects endure. But Methodism is free from
this. The extravagances which accompanied its
growth are no longer encouraged, and will altogether
CONCLUSION. 405
be discountenanced, as their real nature is under-
stood. This cannot be doubted. It is in the natural
course of things that it should purify itself gradually
from whatever is objectionable in its institutions.
Nor is it beyond the bounds of reasonable hope, that,
conforming itself to the original intention of its
founders, it may again draw towards the Establish-
ment, from which it has seceded, and deserve to be
recognised as an auxiliary institution, its ministers
being analogous to the regulars, and its members to
the tertiaries and various confraternities of the Romish
Church. The obstacles to this are surely not in-
superable, perhaps not so difficult as they may appear.
And were this effected, John Wesley would then be
ranked, not only among the most remarkable and
influential men of his age, but among the great
benefactors of his country and his kind.
D ID 3
R.E.M.A.R. KS
ON
T H E L I FE AND C H A R A C T E R.
JOHN WESLEY,
BY THE LATE
ALEXANDER. KNOX, ESQ.
REMARKS
THE LIFE AND CHARACTER
OF
JOHN WESLEY.
To
Bellevue, Delganny, March 4th, 1828.
MY DEAR SIR,
At length I commit my papers for Mr.
Southey into your hands. I regret that I do not send
them in a fairer form; but I have been delayed so
long, that I prefer giving them as they are, to the
procrastination which would be unavoidable, were I
to have attempted a more sightly transcript.
As to this matter, the fault I feel chiefly in them,
is redundance, but I wished to submit to Mr. Southey
all my thoughts on the subject, though at the expense
of prolixity, and, possibly, unnecessary amplification.
When you have read them, your opinion of them
will be gratifying to me. You will perceive that in
giving my view of John Wesley's religious principles,
I have pretty largely developed my own. These will
not be new to you, and I earnestly hope that Mr.
Southey may not find any thing in them from which
his good feelings will recoil, or of which his sound
judgement will disapprove. -
I sincerely thank you for the kind interest you
take in my health (of which I can neither boast nor
410 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
complain), and I beg that when you write to Mr.
Southey, you will assure him, that among those who
have not the happiness of personal acquaintance with
him, he cannot have a more cordial friend than
myself.
Believe me, always,
- - My dear Sir,
Your most faithful and deeply obliged Friend,
ALEXANDER. KNOX.
P. S. I too have my political feelings about the
political state of things; and though I am, and ever
have been, a determined disapprover of the Corporation
and Test Laws, yet there is something in the aspect of
that debate, and the course in which it is proceeding,
that makes methink with awe, and almost terror (were
it not that unerring Wisdom rules), at the times on
which Britain may be entering.
To
MY DEAR SIR, -
It has not been from want of interest
in your wish to have what information I could give
respecting Mr. Wesley, that I have so long delayed to
say something to you on the subject. I wished in
the first place to consider what kind of matter I could
furnish, which would not be unworthy of Mr. Southey's
attention, and have some satisfactory bearing on the
particular point about which he was anxious. Having
thought on this subject, I would fain have proceeded
to execute my purpose; but I have happened to have
so little command of time, during the last four or five
months, that it was impossible for me to accomplish
sooner what I can truly say was very near my heart.
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 411
I do not think that the letters of Mr. Wesley which I
possess, have any thing in them that could strengthen
the mass of similar evidence already before the
public. I have between forty and fifty letters, the last.
written about nine months before his death. I myself
account them invaluable; as they still, in the most
forcible and interesting way, bring the good old man
before me; but they do not (and, indeed, I think, could
not,) bear any fuller testimony to his character and
feelings than is borne in the collection of letters
published with Mr. Wesley's other works, in the year
1809.
I would also say, that on the particular subject,
which has been brought before Mr. Southey, while my
letters would afford no specific evidence, much of a
very powerful kind seems to me to be furnished by
some of those which have been published. Mr. Southey
has doubtless observed that the greater part of them
are addressed to female correspondents; and I think
he will agree with me, that the characteristic openness
which marks all Mr. Wesley's letters, and makes them
be felt as a disclosure of his very mind and heart, is
never more conspicuous than when he is writing to
his friends of the female sex.
It is certain that Mr. Wesley had a predilection
for the female character; partly, because he had a
mind ever alive to amiability, and partly, from his
generally finding in females a quicker and fuller re-
sponsiveness to his own ideas of interior piety and
affectionate devotion. To his female correspondents,
therefore, (as it strikes me,) he writes with peculiar
effluence of thought and frankness of communication.
He, in fact, unbosoms himself on every topic which
occurs to him, as to kindred spirits, in whose sympathies
he confided, and from whose re-communications he
hoped for additional light on those internal concerns
412 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
which were ever uppermost in his mind, and nearest
to his heart.
Accordingly, in those prompt effusions, all Mr.
Wesley's peculiarities are in fullest display: his con-
fident conclusions, from scanty or fallacious premises;
his unwarrantable value for sudden revolutions of the
mind; his proneness to attribute to the Spirit of God
what might more reasonably be resolved into natural
emotions, or illusive impressions: these and such like
evidences of his intellectual frailty, are poured forth
without reserve; in strange union, however, with ob-
servations on persons and things, replete with
acuteness and Sagacity.
But amid this anomaly of mind, there is no anomaly
of heart. On the closest examination, no sentiment,
no inclination, will be found to reflect the slightest
shade on Mr. Wesley's moral principles or feelings.
Whatever mixtures there may be of speculative error
or injudicious guidance, the ultimate object is uni-
formly pure and excellent; be the prescribed means
of advancement what they may, the point aimed at, is
consummate virtue, in every temper, and in every
action.
I must add, that the character of these letters is
uniform: they are in the strictest harmony with each
other, and indeed with everything else which proceeded
from him. It is the same John Wesley, whether he
addresses individuals or addresses thousands; ex-
pressing his quick conceptions with an unsuspecting
frankness; as if there were not a thought in his mind
which he wished to conceal ; and as if he had no wish
whatever except for the spiritual good of those who
sought his instruction. *
I would further remark, that to read John Wesley's
letters, is to feel that he wrote as he spoke. Their
unstudied simplicity must give this impression; and
I myself, who so often heard him speak, can attest its
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 413
justness. It will hence follow, that in these letters we
have an authentic exemplification not only of Mr.
Wesley's epistolary correspondence, but of his col-
loquial intercourse with his female friends. He so
literally talks upon paper, as to make it inconceivable
that he should have conversed with them in any
other style than that in which he wrote to them ; and
while he is unreservedly and ardently the friend of
all to whom he writes, the flow of his affection is so
pure, and so paternal, as to exclude the possibility of
imagining that its simplicity could ever have been
marred by the shadow of an opposite mixture. Such
I think would be the impression on my mind, solely
from the letters themselves: but when I read them
with that decisive comment which my own recol-
lections afford, I feel with a certainty, which
mathematical demonstration could not exceed, that
never, for one moment, was the evidence of those
letters falsified, or their spirit departed from, in the
actual intercourse of Mr. Wesley's life, in whatever
circumstances he might have been placed, or into
whatever society he might have been thrown.
The indirect testimony which Mr. Wesley's letters
to his female correspondents afford, is also worthy of
attention. While they manifest the inmost feelings
of the writer, they little less clearly evince the esti-
mation in which he was held by those to whom he
writes. It continually appears, from Mr. Wesley's
mode of writing, that his female disciples consulted
him as one to whom they ascribed the spirit as well
as the wisdom of an Apostle. The subjects treated
of, establish this fact ; and present, as it were, the
reflected image of as unqualified a confidence as
could be placed in a human being. We have, then,
virtually, in those letters, the great body of Mr.
Wesley's female friends bearing to his character the
most unimpeachable as well as the most concordant
414 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND.
witness. And let it be remembered, that this evidence
is given on the fullest knowledge; as, from Mr.
Wesley's constant itinerancy, his friends had ever-re-
curring opportunities of observing him, in every point
of view, and in all possible conjunctures. It is also
obvious that Mr. Wesley's female correspondents were
sincerely pious; and that the species of piety which
influenced them, however chargeable with weakness,
is perfectly opposite to every kind of moral laxity.
Their respect and veneration, therefore, for Mr.
Wesley, is a conclusive evidence of his uniform rec-
titude of conduct; for had there been any variation
in this respect, it must have been observed by some
or other of those intimate female friends; and had
such a discovery at any time, or in any instance, been
made, esteem and veneration would instantly have
been changed into horror and detestation.
I can, besides, say from my own knowledge, that
some of Mr. Wesley's female friends possessed acute
discernment and solid understanding. I have been
acquainted with two gentlewomen, to whom several
of the published letters were addressed; and in whom,
in a peculiar degree, Mr. Wesley reposed confidence.
In my judgment, those two persons were as little
likely to be deceived as most women with whom I
have conversed; and I am assured it would scarcely
have been more foreign from their minds to suspect
St. Paul of latent vice, than to have harboured such
a thought of John Wesley. On the whole, is it not
obvious, that in the intimate intercourse which Mr.
Wesley had for so many years with them, and countless
other females, of similar character, continued, uniform
imposition was impossible; and that the argument
hence arising in support of Mr. Wesley's perfect
moral consistency is irrefragable.
After all, Mr. Wesley's published letters are but a
specimen of the kind of communication in which he
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESILEY. 415
was engaged for more than half a century, with num-
berless individuals, of all ages and sexes, in every part
of the British Isles. All these persons had oppor-
tunities of being accurately acquainted with his
habits and course of life; and they were interested
by a common feeling in that perfect consistºney of
his character which was indispensable to sustain his
system of discipline, and his lessons of devotion. Had,
therefore, a shadow of ground for jealousy in this
respect been at any time, or in any instance afforded,
I can say with confidence, it neither could nor would
have been concealed. Whatever may have been the
defects or excesses of Wesleyan Methodism, it has
certainly been the most moral of all similar as-
sociations; and the ruling claim which held so many
thousands in adherence to a standard so much above
their original frame of mind and habits of life, was
the exemplary virtue of their leader. Any deviation,
therefore, from that standard in Mr. Wesley, would
have been as astounding, to his followers, as the fall
from heaven of a star of the first magnitude. But I
can assert, from my own knowledge, that the minds of
Mr. Wesley's people never were disturbed by such a
thought. For the last five-and-twenty years of his
life, I was acquainted with every thing material which
concerned him or them; and nothing, which was or
had been reported respecting him, could have escaped
my cognizance. Yet never, I can aver, was his fair
fame sullied by the slightest breath of suspicion; and
no intimation ever reached my ears, which did not
either give witness to, or accord with, his immaculate
integrity. X-
Mr. Southey is fully aware of the severe ordeal
through which Mr. Wesley passed, on account of his
supposed errors in doctrine. Never, perhaps, did the
odium theologicum more amply vent itself than in the
libels of Mr. Wesley's Calvinistic antagonists. Their
416 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND .
efforts to distort or magnify the merest trifles into
serious charges, show how eagerly they would have
availed themselves of any dark whisper or ambiguous
insinuation. Their great quarrel with Mr. Wesley
was on account of the supposed self-righteous stress
which he laid on moral qualifications. How decided
would have been their victory, could they, on any
producible ground, have made a charge of immorality
against himself An unfortunate mistake, in a book
of medical prescriptions, which he published, under
the title of Primitive Physic, was at one time brought
against him, as involving virtual guilt of homicide.
When such crimination was resorted to, would any
matter of substantial attack on his character have
escaped the perspicacity of his vigilant and widely-
spread assailants 2
To these prominent evidences of Mr. Wesley's uni-
form integrity, I must presume to add what has par-
ticularly come within my own immediate observation,
and state the impression made upon my mind by that
long acquaintance with him, which I soberly regard
as one of the chief providential blessings of my life.
During the period of my occasional intercourse
with Mr. Wesley, I passed from childhood to youth,
and from youth to manhood; not without some ma-
terial changes in my mind and habits. At an early
age I was a member of Mr. Wesley's Society, but my
connection with it was not of long duration. Having
a growing disposition to think for myself, I could not
adopt the opinions which were current among his fol-
lowers; and before I was twenty years of age my
relish for their religious practices had abated. Still
my veneration for Mr. Wesley himself suffered no
diminution; rather, as I became more capable of
estimating him without prejudice, my conviction of
his excellence, and my attachment to his goodness,
gained fresh strength and deeper cordiality.
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 4.17
It will hardly be denied that, even in this frail and
corrupted world, we sometimes meet persons who, in
their very mien and aspect, as well as in the whole
habit of life, manifest such a stamp and signature of
virtue as to make our judgement of them a matter of
intuition, rather than a result of continued examina-
tion. I never met a human being who came more
perfectly within this description than John Wesley.
It was impossible to converse with him, I might say,
to look at him, without being persuaded, not only
that his heart and mind were animated with the
purest and most exalted goodness, but that the in-
stinctive bent of his nature accorded so congenially
with his Christian principles, as to give a pledge for
his practical consistency in which it was impossible
not to place confidence.
It would be far too little to say, that it was impos-
sible to suspect him of any moral taint; for it was
obvious that every movement bespoke as perfect a
contrariety to all that was earthly or animal as could
be imagined in a mortal being. His countenance, as well
as conversation, expressed an habitual gaiety of heart,
which nothing but conscious virtue and innocence
could have bestowed. He was, in truth, the most
perfect specimen of moral happiness which I ever
saw ; and my acquaintance with him has done more to
teach me what a heaven upon earth is implied in the
maturity of Christian piety, than all I have elsewhere
seen, or heard, or read, except in the sacred volume.
I thus express, not merely what I felt at the time,
but what has been confirmed by deep reflection during
thirty-six subsequent years. John Wesley was not a
man to be forgotten; and various events, which have
occurred both among his professed followers and
generally in what is called the religious world, have
tended to prevent my recollection of him from losing
any portion of its original interest. The puritanic
VOL. II. E E
4.18 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
theology which was revived by his fellow-labourer
Whitefield, and which has latterly become prevalent
even within the pale of the Established Church, makes
the contrasted principles of John Wesley a more en-
gaging subject of thought; and the result, to my
mind, has been, not only an increased value for those
principles, but a sincere admiration of the simplicity,
purity, and moral height by which they are distin-
guished from the dogmas of all other active religionists,
contemporary or subsequent.
I need scarcely observe, that although this praise
could never be withheld from Mr. Wesley, it pecu-
liarly belongs to the last twenty years of his life.
The period, therefore, of my acquaintance with him
was that also of his improved views. Of these, I
consider his second set of published sermons to afford
the best exemplification; and one of their most re-
markable features is the ingenuous frankness with
which former excesses in opinion are acknowledged .
and rejected. Though little can be said for those
discourses as compositions (except that they show
what their author could have done, had composi-
tion been his object), I can venture to assert that, as
much as is possible, they bear the impress, and
breathe the spirit, of John Wesley in the most mel-
lowed season of his life. I do not mean to say
that they evince any very solid increase of wisdom;
but they manifest an enlarged range of Christian
philanthropy, unfettered by any harsh dogma, and
unclouded by any gloomy feeling. They have, be-
sides, every where, that transparency of character
which makes us see, as it were, the very mind and
heart of the writer, and leaves no possibility of ques,
tioning his “simplicity and godly sincerity.”
In estimating John Wesley, I am not conscious of
partiality. For his singularities, as a public teacher,
I had no predilection. I loved and revered him for
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 419
his cheerful piety, his resistless amiability, and his
perfect superiority to every vulgar feeling and selfish
motive. But I was not blind to his weaknesses, nor
to the important defects and liabilities of his religious
system. Still, the more deeply I have reflected, the
more disposed have I been to regard him as an in-
strument of Providence for most valuable purposes;
and, whatever may have been his misconceptions in
intellect, or his errors in conduct, my conviction is
that he never consciously swerved from what he con-
sidered his “heavenly calling.”
In fact, Mr. Wesley's practical principles had ever
been such as to ensure perfect moral consistency.
From his first years of serious reflection, his standard
of Christian virtue was pure and exalted. He formed
his views in the school of the Greek fathers, and in
that of their closest modern followers, the Platonic
divines of the Church of England. These studies
did not rest in speculation: it was impossible that
such studies should be merely speculative. The
ardour of Mr. Wesley's soul was fired by the spirit
which he thus inhaled: and to realise in himself the
perfect Christian of Clemens Alexandrinus was the
object of his heart. The attachment which he then
conceived to Taylor, Smith, Cudworth, Worthing-
ton, and Lucas retained all its cordiality to the last
hour of his life.
The subsequent singularities of his course implied
no kind of departure from those high aspirings. The
former, on the contrary, were the result of the latter,
in a mind peculiarly eager and impatient of delay. It
was in the hope of raising himself to that coveted
pitch of Christian rectitude, that he adopted the as-
cetic rigidness of Mr. Law, and that he devoted him-
self to General Oglethorpe's projected Indian mission.
His ill success in self-discipline, during that season of
trial, humbled him almost to despondency, and pre-
E E 2
420 REMAIRKS ON THE LIFE AND
disposed him for listening to the new lessons of Peter
Boehler. Then, for the first time, the dogma, com-
mon to Lutherans and Calvinists, respecting justifica-
tion by faith, took hold of his mind. But it is to be
remarked that he embraced this tenet in a way of his
own. In the usual representations of modern theo-
logy, justification means a change in external relation
to God, rather than in moral dispositions and feelings.
It is stated to be acceptance with God, for the sake of
his Son, independent of moral qualification in the
subject. John Wesley also maintained, that the bless-
ing of justification was strictly gratuitous; and that
it was conferred in answer to earnest and persevering
prayer: but his notion of the thing conferred was
modified by his own antecedent and still predominant
views. He regarded justification neither merely nor
chiefly as a forensic acquittal in the court of heaven;
but as implying also a conscious liberation from moral
thraldom. It will, in fact, be seen, in all Mr. Wesley's
statements on the subject, that it was the moral
liberation on which he relied as the true criterion of the
justified state. “Herein,” said he, as Mr. Southey has
quoted him, “I found the difference between this and
my former state chiefly consisted: I was striving, yea
fighting, with all my might under the law, as well
as under grace; but then, I was sometimes, if not
often, conquered; now, I was always conqueror.”
Thus in the very moment of his highest excitation,
Mr. Wesley estimates evangelic blessings on moral
grounds, and tries himself exclusively by a moral
standard. I confidently add, that in all the pecu-
liarities of his subsequent course, he never swerved
from this principle ; but, on the contrary, became
more and more jealous of every opinion which could
be thought to favour religious confidence, without
the constant testimony of a good conscience. The
doctrinal theories which he had embraced, and which
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 421
he, at length, began to suspect of an “antinomian
leaning,” were either renounced or corrected; and
purity of heart and life, through the grace of Christ
and the influence of the Holy Spirit, as it had been
ever his ruling object, became at length the single
matter to which he attached vital importance.
But, as I said, at no period was there an abatement
of Mr. Wesley's original moral intensity. In his
Appeal we find him rejecting “the vulgar motion of
Salvation being barely deliverance from hell, or going
to heaven;” and maintaining that it is “a present
deliverance from sin; a restoration of the soul to its
primitive health, its original purity; a recovery of
the Divine nature; the renewal of our souls after the
image of God. This implies,” he adds, “all holy and
heavenly tempers; and, by consequence, all holiness
of conversation.” And, in one of his earlier sermons,
he exhorts his disciples to “abhor sin far more than
death or hell;” to “abhor sin itself far more than the
punishment of it.”
The truth is, that John Wesley considered the ex-
cellency of Christianity to consist in its delivering the
human spirit from the dominion and the pollution of
moral evil; and thus qualifying and disposing it for
the moral enjoyment of God. This central principle
of Christian philosophy he embraced for himself, and
urged upon others, as essentially and infinitely the
one thing needful. His moral creed was comprehended
in that weightiest and most profound oracle, “Blessed
are the pure in heart; for they shall see God.” St.
Augustine's pregnant aphorism, “Fecisti nos tibi; et
cor semper irrequietum, donec requiescat in te,” was
adopted by him in all its fulness; nor do the winged
words of St. Chrysostom express this supreme truth
with deeper feeling, or more strongly attest the pious
ardour of him who uttered them, than passages of
frequent occurrence in Mr. Wesley's later sermons.
422 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
It is this moral radiance, that so often breaks forth
in Mr. Wesley's writings, which could alone compen-
sate an unprejudiced reader for the shallow reason-
ings, and unsupported conclusions, into which his
natural temperament, his favourite theories, and his
peculiar circumstances, conspired to betray him.
Still, in spite of these repulsive features, I must con-
fess for myself that I feel inexpressible satisfaction in
recurring to those warm and bright effusions of moral
taste and spiritual affection. But I could not do so,
if my recollections of John Wesley himself were not
in complete accordance with the pure practice which
he inculcates, and “the holy loftiness of heart” (to
use an expression of Archbishop Leighton's) which
he is ever solicitous to inspire.
I am well aware that the history of what is called
the religious world leaves little room for concluding
that eminently zealous men must therefore be imma-
culate. Yet, even had I no personal knowledge of
Mr. Wesley's character, the practical principles to
which I have been adverting would, to my mind,
raise him far above the reach of any discreditable
suspicion. It is in religionists of another cast that
moral inconsistencies have shown themselves. A faith
which does not regard everlasting safety as vitally
depending on present purity, though in general its
practice may be much better than its theory, is little
likely to lay the axe to the root of human corruption;
and may not always be sufficiently on the alert to
repel and subdue the first motions of moral evil.
But that one, whose entire principles indispensably
bound him to pursue purity of heart and life, and
made the substantive possession of that purity essen-
tial to his daily and hourly comfort, —that such an
one, I say, after years of devotedness, and in the midst
of what might most truly be called a life of sacrifice,
should, in one particular instance, depart wickedly
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 423
from his course, and, on one single occasion, give the
lie to all the other actions of his life, all the words of
his mouth, and all the vivid issues of his ever-pro-
fluent heart, would be against all example, and be-
yond all credibility. I rest assured that any such
moral anomaly would be sought for in vain in the
annals of the Christian world.
But something much stronger than any general
argument settles my conviction of John Wesley's
perfect integrity: I mean the tranquil and satisfied
mind with which I saw him resign himself to the
rapid sinking of his frame, and the certain approach
of his dissolution. Mr. Southey has remarked, with
his usual discernment and good feeling, on the evi-
dences of this fact which have come before him. Had
he personally witnessed what he so justly conceived,
he would have needed no additional proof that Mr.
Wesley enjoyed as cloudless a mental retrospect as
could consist with mortality.
I had an opportunity of closely observing him for
some days together, in the last year but one of his
life. He was, just then, after a wonderful continu-
ance of natural strength, beginning to “find that he
grew old.” His sight was much decayed, and he
himself was conscious that his memory was weak-
ened, though it did not yet appear in his conversation.
Of his own actual feelings under these increasing
infirmities, I have an interesting record, in a letter
dated Dublin, April 11th, 1789, written soon after his
last arrival in Ireland, and notifying his intended
visit to the place where I resided, and where he was
to be my guest. “You see in the public papers,” he
says, “that I shall be with you, if God permit, on the
30th of next month. If I should be called to go a
longer journey before that time, I hope you would be
able to say, ‘Good is the will of the Lord.' Every
time we meet, it is less and less probable that we
E E 4
424 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
should meet again in this world; but it is enough if we
are counted worthy to obtain that world, and the
resurrection of the dead.”
After receiving such an intimation of conscious
decline, I was delighted to find his cheerfulness in no
respect abated. It was too obvious that his bodily
frame was sinking; but his spirit was as alert as ever;
and he was little less the life of the company he hap-
pened to be in, than he had been three-and-twenty
years before, when I first knew him. I had some
motive at that time for stating, in a newspaper pub-
lication, the impression which his manner and con-
versation then particularly made upon me. This
sketch of Mr. Wesley, Mr. Henry Moore, his first
biographer, inserted, with the alteration of one unim-
portant word, in his volume; and it was copied both
by Mr. Hampson and Dr. Whitehead. Of what I
then said, I do not, after the reflection of so many
years, retract an iota. Now, as then, I feel it to be
a case in which there was no room for delusion.
Such unclouded sunshine of the breast, in the deepest
winter of age, and on the felt verge of eternity, be-
spoke a mind whose recollections were as unsullied
as its present sensations were serene. It seemed to
verify to the letter those weighty words of the
Psalmist, “Keep innocency, and take heed unto the
thing that is right, for that shall bring a man peace
at the last.” -
With this latest image of John Wesley my mind
could not but associate all that I had seen in him, or
heard from him, on former occasions; as well as those
perpetual effusions of purest and simplest virtue in
his writings, which, like streams from a fountain,
prove the nature of their source. And in this united
view, I seem to myself to possess as indisputable evi-
dence of Mr. Wesley's undeviating moral consistency,
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 425
as if my eye had followed him through every stage
and every step of his earthly pilgrimage.
And let it not be forgotten that he has himself
enabled us virtually to exercise this very kind of
inspection. His Journal affords such an entire and
unreserved memorial, not only of his indefatigable
labours, but of the disposition and temper with which
he pursued them, as makes John Wesley one of the
best known individuals that ever acted on the stage
of human life. While I, therefore, from my own per-
sonal knowledge of him, feel the conviction I have
expressed, I would send others to that animated but
most artless registry, to try if they can find a point
of time in which his Christian vigilance appears to
relax, or his love of virtue to become less intense or
less practical. I would ask, is there one darkened
hour, which might be thought to indicate some secret
self-reproach ; or an intimation, for the last fifty
years, (to say nothing of his earlier strictness,) that
he did not live in daily peace with himself, and with
his God 2 Is he not uniformly the same man, - de-
voted to what he deemed his duty: alike regardless
of privation or endurance, and yet beaming with
happy cheerfulness, and glowing with unbounded
philanthropy Ž I would say, in a word, let a single
spot be shown in the singularly-recorded course of
John Wesley's thoughts and feelings, as well as of
his actions and habits, where suspicion could find
footing, or calumny insert a sting.
I have thus obliged my conscience, and gratified
my deepest feelings, in bearing my feeble testimony
to my ever loved and venerated friend. I could will-
ingly have gone farther, and submitted some remarks
to Mr. Southey, on particulars respecting which, I
think, had he known Mr. Wesley as I knew him, he
would have written somewhat differently from what
426 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
he has done; and have, by that means, more fully
accomplished his own kind and liberal intentions. I
cannot express the value which I attach to Mr.
Southey's Life of John Wesley; but, in certain in-
stances, I could wish him to have the means of can-
did reconsideration. I refer merely to matters re-
specting Mr. Wesley's personal character, moral and
religious. But I could not presume to state what
has occurred to me, without Mr. Southey's permis-
sion; I would even say, his desire that I should do so.
I am, my dear Sir, most faithfully yours,
ALEXANDER. KNOX.
Bellevue, Delganny, Oct. 8, 1825.
As Mr. Southey has been so good as to express a
wish that I should offer such remarks as have occurred
to me, in reading his Life of John Wesley, I gladly
avail myself of the opportunity thus afforded me, not
only of bearing testimony to the virtues of my old
excellent friend, but also of evincing my entire con-
fidence in Mr. Southey's candour, and in his cordial
value for worth of character, by whatever human
infirmities it may be accompanied.
I could not enumerate the instances in which I was
gratified, and sometimes even delighted, at the justice
done by Mr. Southey to the character of Mr. Wesley's
mind, and to the motives of his singular course of
life. But I have often felt the strongest persuasion
that if Mr. Southey had known Mr. Wesley as I knew
him, his estimate of the feelings which actuated and
modified Mr. Wesley's extraordinary career, would
have somewhat differed from that which Mr. Southey's
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 427
more remote view of his subject led him naturally, or
rather necessarily, to form. - -
Mr. Southey, not having had an opportunity of
personally knowing and observing Mr. Wesley, could
judge of him only by general rules, and according to
the common movements of human nature: and I
freely confess that, according to this standard, it was
next to impossible that Mr. Wesley's peculiarities
should be resolved into any other sources than those
which the history of human nature shows to have
so often produced results of an apparently similar
kind. -
I accordingly do not wonder that Mr. Southey
should have ascribed Mr. Wesley's conduct, in certain
remarkable conjunctures of his life, to a restless spirit,
“an ambitious temper, and a pride of heart, which
could not have been contented with holding a second-
ary place;” nor, indeed, do I see how a distant
observer could otherwise account for Mr. Wesley's
apparent choice of enterprise, his uncompromising
resistance of his antagonists, and his unyielding re-
tention of the power which he had acquired, until the
last moment of his life.
I may venture to say that neither these, nor any
other particulars in Mr. Wesley's character and con-
duct, on which Mr. Southey animadverts, escaped
my attention; and not even at the time, much less at
this distant period, could I suspect myself of regard-
ing them with undue partiality. Having no more
sympathy with Mr. Wesley in his decided peculiarities
than (I might almost say) Mr. Southey himself, I was
not liable to be seduced into an over favourable judge-
ment of the motives, for the sake of the consequences.
Still, however, I must declare, that the slightest sus-
picion of pride, ambition, selfishness, in any shape or
form, or personal gratification of whatever kind,
stimulating Mr. Wesley in any instance, or mixing
428 REMARKS ON THE LIEE AND
in any measure with the movements of his life, never
once entered into my mind. That such charges were
made by his opponents, I could not be ignorant. But
my deep impression was, and it certainly remains
unimpaired, that since the days of the Apostles there
has not been a human being more thoroughly exempt
from all those frailties of human nature than John
Wesley. -
In fact it has been my settled conviction that Mr.
Wesley was intentionally solicitous for nothing but
the Bonum and the Verum, in the highest sense of
these terms; and had his conceptions of the latter
been as sober as his apprehensions of the former were
sublime, he would have ranked with the first names
in the modern history of the Church. But with a
heart as upright as mere mortal could possess, he had
an intellectual frame of singular construction. Hence,
and not in any measure from his moral nature, pro-
ceeded the fervour, the energy, the prompt decision,
with which he resisted an adversary, surmounted an
obstacle, or accomplished an object. And hence, too,
arose several weaknesses which have thrown a shade
over his better qualities. Thus his habits of reflection
bore no proportion to his quickness of apprehension;
nor could he endure delay either in reasoning or in
acting. From uncertain and scanty premises, he
rapidly formed the most confident and comprehensive
conclusions, mistaking logic for philosophy in matters
of theory, and appearances for realities in matters of
fact and experience.
But, it may be asked, if such was the character of
John Wesley's mind, how was he competent to form
a religious polity so compact, effective, and perma-
ment 2 I can only express my firm conviction that
he was totally incapable of preconceiving such a
scheme. This would have implied an exercise of
forethought and politic contrivance, than which
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 429
nothing could be more opposite to his whole mental
constitution. Besides, from the specimens which I
myself have had of his proceedings, I can even stake
my veracity, that the account which he gives, on
different occasions, of his adopting measures simply
as they were required by successive emergencies, is
unqualified and unimpeachable truth.
That, he had uncommon acuteness in fitting ex-
pedients to conjunctures, is most certain : this, in fact,
was his great talent. But in exerting this faculty,
he was unspeakably aided by the intentional rectitude
of his leading purpose. To train as many persons as
he could influence to habitual and elevated piety, by
a settled plan of methodical, social, and anti-secular
devotion, was his uniform and exclusive object. In
this pursuit, none other than morally innocent means
could be thought of ; and while he chose them not
only with that honesty which is the best policy, but
with uncommon instinctive sagacity, his constitutional
energy supported his religious zeal in carrying them
into steady and systematical practice.
Thus it is that my personal acquaintance with Mr.
Wesley's mind and habits obliges me to account for
the origin and growth of the religious society which
bears his name: but it must be added, as Mr.
Southey has not failed to remark, that Mr. Wesley
was much aided by his previous acquaintance with
the religious practices of the Unitas Fratrum ; and
also, that which appeared opportune accident, led
sometimes to the adoption of his more successful
measures. It is no less certain, that when Mr. Wes-
ley's system had grown into form, his mind was as
much fitted to sustain it, as it would have been in-
capable of previously devising it. Steadiness to his
purpose marked all his movements: nor could prac-
tical eccentricity ever be imputed to him.
That Mr. Wesley's natural feelings were gratified
430 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
by the progress of his Society cannot be questioned;
nor that, with the partiality of a parent, he was liable
to palliate its imperfections, and to over-estimate its
good effects. I grant, too, that in governing the
body which he had formed, he experienced much of
that pleasure which every one feels in exercising
those talents wherein he excels. But I am persuaded
that these necessary and useful movements, of our
nature never existed in any mere human being with
less alloy of selfishness than in John Wesley. It is
true that he appeared unwilling, even to the last, to
part with the power which had grown up in his
hands, or to suffer others to share in it. But I affirm
with confidence, that it was not love of power which
made him thus tenacious of it. I am assured that,
for his own sake, he no more valued it than the earth
on which he trod. But he regarded it as a provi-
dential deposit, which he had not a right to part with.
He knew that none of those around him were fit to
be his coadjutors, and that so long as he could hold
his place, the welfare of his Society required that he
should hold it alone. Could he have adhered to this
principle as much in reality as in profession, it might
have been happier for his people, as well as for him-
self. But that he was not actuated by any vulgar
ambition, is evinced by a fact which has not escaped
Mr. Southey's observation; namely, that when the
state of Methodism was such as to have afforded most
gratification to selfish feelings, then it was that its
founder felt deepest dissatisfaction, and complained
in the bitterness of his soul, that the results which
he had fondly reckoned on, were lamentably unaccom-
plished. -
I am sure I need not point out the passages in Mr.
Wesley's latest sermons which contain those com-
plaints, and which sometimes bespeak an anguish of
heart too intense for utterance. I have always felt
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 431
their importance, as Mr. Wesley's own deliberate tes-
timony to the imperfectness of his system; but I can-
not help also inferring from them the simplicity of his
own heart, and the unmixt integrity of all his purposes.
His success in forming a religious body, taken in all
its circumstances, had scarcely a parallel in the Chris-
tian world; yet he grieves inexpressibly on this single
account, that when he expected the “vineyard to
bring forth grapes, it brought forth wild grapes.”
He well knew also, that, in uttering and recording
these feelings, he was putting the candour of his peo-
ple to the severest test, and, of course, hazarding his
influence over them; yet no such apprehension is
allowed even to soften his deep-toned expostulations.
I ask, would this have been the case if the pleasure of
dominion, or if selfish gratification in any shape or
form had mingled, however partially, with his motives,
or possessed any place whatever in his heart 2
I may farther remark, that the prevalent tempers
and habits of Mr. Wesley's mind appear to have been
perfectly inconsistent with ambitious feelings. It is
inconceivable that a man who aimed at self-aggran-
disement should not be sometimes chagrined; that he
should not be disturbed by opposition, annoyed by
disappointments, or occasionally feel anxiety for the
success of measures. But, probably, there never was
a human being less accessible to care, of whatever
kind, than John Wesley: sensible as he was both to
pleasure and pain, and intensely as he desired the
happiness of his disciples, still the impression made
on him by adverse occurrences, though no doubt often
sharp, was always transient. Be the exigence what
it might, after adopting what appeared the best mea-
sures, he dismissed it from his thoughts. This happy
faculty secured to him, through his long life, unbroken
rest by night, and unclouded cheerfulness in the day:
but it was a faculty which, I conceive, he could not
432 IREMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
have possessed, had not his views been perfectly pure
and disinterested. The emotions of a generous and
upright heart, however strong, imply no thraldom ;
but as soon as the feeling becomes selfish, the power
of surmounting it is proportionally lost. I should
think this is a fair test; and if so, the mind of John
Wesley stands acquitted from every suspicion of self-
ishness: for certain it is, that as far as could consist
with mortality, his life was a course of constant self-
possession, and uninterrupted self-enjoyment; the past
being unreservedly committed to God's gracious
reckoning, and the future no less simply left to his
unerring providence.
Another charge against Mr. Wesley, I cannot equally
dispute, namely, that of enthusiasm. Still he was an
enthusiast of no vulgar kind: as Nelson was an enthu-
siast for his country, so was John Wesley for religion.
& Where the highest interests of man were concerned,
: Mr. Wesley made no account of precedent, or public
opinion, or maxims of human or even of ecclesiastical
prudence.) The Church of England appeared to him
to have fallen into a state of stupor like that of the
ancient Jewish Church; and it was his persuasion that
a kind of second John the Baptist, a “voice of one
crying in the wilderness,” was necessary to awaken it:
to this duty he conceived himself providentially called,
and he engaged in it with as firm a purpose, as if he
had been commissioned by a voice from heaven. But
in this material respect John Wesley differed from all
vulgar enthusiasts—that he did not imagine any such
voice, nor had he the slightest thought of either im-
pulse or intimation from above. Singular as his course
was, he no more supposed himself raised above the
guidance of his reason than of his conscience; but the
premises from which he reasoned frequently derived
so much of their shape and colour from the abstracted
view which he took of them, and the sanguine spirit
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 433
in which he regarded them, as to produce results dif-
fering perhaps little, in appearance, from those of
strict and proper fanaticism; while, in reality, they
were only the regular workings of his peculiarly
formed and, at the same time, religiously devoted
mind. As this remark applies especially to the earlier
stages of his career, so, I conceive, its truth is sup-
ported by the manner in which experience and reflec-
tion led him, in some important instances, to acknow-
ledge the excess, and to correct the severity, of his for-
mer doctrinal conceptions.
It may, perhaps, be asked, whether the revolution
which Mr. Wesley describes as having taken place in
his mind at the Society in Aldersgate-street, on the
24th of May, 1738, does not fix a charge of enthu-
siasm both on his mental character and on all his
subsequent plans of conduct 2 I should be obliged to
answer, that if that occurrence justified such a charge,
several of the most eminent persons in the Christian
world must equally be deemed enthusiasts: for exam-
ple, St. Cyprian and St. Augustin, in former times, and
in times nearer our own, George Herbert, Robert
Boyle, and Bishop Ken. This last-mentioned orna-
ment of our Church has told his own story, in a poem
on the Divine Attribute of Truth: I could wish Mr.
Southey to turn to it, and to judge whether it is not
in substance the very counterpart of John Wesley's
statement. I must repeat, however, that I dispute
the enthusiasm of John Wesley's mind only in the
gross and palpable sense of the term : nor can I say,
that it was through dislike of strict and proper enthu-
siasm, that he escaped its influence: I even think he
would have been an enthusiast if he could. He was
always gratified by hearing or reading of illapses, or
raptures, or supposed extraordinary manifestations,
when he was assured of the moral rectitude of the
party; and, in his letters to his female correspondents,
WOL. II. F F
434 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
we find him sometimes as anxious to know all the
particulars of what passed in their minds, as if each
daily or hourly vicissitude of feeling bore a stamp of
divine operation. But while he thus delighted in the
soarings of others, he himself could not follow them
in their flights: there was a firmness in his intellectual
texture which would not bend to illusion. It was
easy to deceive his reasoning faculty, but there was a
soundness in his imagination which preserved him,
personally, from all contagion of actual fanaticism.
His zealous maintenance of what he called “the
witness of the Spirit,” especially in the former part of
his course, is notorious; and yet it appears he did not
himself profess to have attained it. “By your own
confession,” says Whitefield, in a letter quoted by Mr.
Southey, “you have not the witness of the Spirit within
yourself. I am assured God has given me that living
witness in my soul.” But why had not John Wesley
that inward impression as well as Whitefield, when
he equally believed it to be attainable? Was it not
simply because, from the native tone of his mind, he
was less susceptible of illusive persuasions 2
It is remarkable that others, beside John Wesley,
have had a value for those seemingly extraordinary
sensations in the minds of others of which they had
no consciousness in their own. Nicole says, on this
subject : “J’estime beaucoup ces sortes d’histoires,
quand elles viennent par le canal d’un homme sincere
et intelligent, et quine fait pas unevertu d'une credu-
lité indiscrète. Il me semble que ce sont des nouvelles
de l'autre monde qui servent à détacher de celui-ci.”
The same estimation of those mental phenomena,
without the same guards, rather indeed with as much
credulity as could occupy a mind not physically in-
sane, betrayed Mr. Wesley, I conceive, into some of
the weakest parts of his conduct.
Respecting those instances which are chargeable
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 435
with inconsistency, it will be necessary to advert to
another of Mr. Wesley's liabilities; namely, his
tendency to yield himself to those who, with or with-
out just claims, had obtained his confidence. He was
apt to conceive strong attachments; and they who
were thus distinguished by him did not always appear
to impartial persons as worthy of that preference.
To Mr. C. Wesley those predilections of his brother
were often annoying. “Are you one of my brother's fa-
vourites?” said he to a worthy person who was at that
time Mr. Wesley's travelling companion; and, on his
frankly confessing that he was not, Mr. C. Wesley
replied, “I do not like you the worse for that.” There
was, in fact, no concealment on this point between
the brothers. In a letter to me, in 1780, Mr. Wesley
refers to those differences of liking: “My brother,”
says he, “laughs at me, and says, “Nay, it signifies
nothing to tell you any thing, for whomever you once
love, you will love on through thick and thin.'” This
habit, however, was of much less consequence while
Mr. Wesley's natural strength of mind remained unim-
paired; but when advancing years made him not less
infirm of purpose than of frame, the ascendancy of
those to whom he was partial could not fail to mislead
him, when they were induced by their own views to
exert a warping influence.
Mr. Southey well knows that, during the last seven
years of Mr. Wesley's life, several circumstances con-
curred to favour the attempts which were made by
some of his preachers to draw him from his allegiance
to the Established Church; and I presume it can
hardly be matter of question that strong urgency
must have been used to effect that purpose in the
particular instance of ordination. Still, however,
Mr. Southey seems to suppose (and I do not by any
means wonder at such an impression being made)
F P 2
436 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
that Mr. Wesley's own inclination seconded the views
of his advisers; and that, on the whole, his measures
had at least as much in them of premeditated design
as of misled imbecility. I, however, who attended to
those occurrences at the time with painful interest,
and who have had some opportunity of informing
myself respecting the secret springs of action, cannot
but express my conviction that in those last trans-
actions of Mr. Wesley's life he was infinitely more
“sinned against than sinning;” and that while it is
impossible to acquit him of lamentable inconsistency,
he was utterly unconscious of artifice or duplicity.
Nothing, surely, could have evinced pure weakness of
mind more clearly than the strange business of making
Dr. Coke a bishop. That Dr. C. urged Mr. Wesley to
this proceeding, I know with certainty from the Doctor
himself; and full acquaintance with this well-meaning
but very inconsiderate man, makes me feel that Mr.
Wesley could scarcely have had a more unfortunate
adviser. The argument by which Mr. Wesley brought
himself to comply with Dr. C.’s wish, is itself an
evidence that his reasoning faculty had greatly failed.
I need not point out his childish misapprehension of
the case in question, as it has been noticed and justly
remarked upon by Mr. Southey. At the same time,
I do not wonder that Mr. Wesley's conduct in this
instance should be thought to bespeak the duplicity
rather than the infirmity of his mind, and that Mr.
Southey should accordingly suppose Dr. Coke's express
assumption of the episcopate in America to have called
forth only “a semblance of displeasure from Mr.
Wesley, merely intended to save appearances;” and
yet would fain hope that, if Mr. Southey will take the
trouble of referring to the lately published edition of
Moore's Life of Wesley, from the 335th to the 345th
page of the second volume, and particularly the letter
to Mr. Asbury, he will see that Mr. Wesley's dis-
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 437
pleasure, however inconsistent, was not feigned, but
actually and strongly felt by him. -
It would be impossible for Mr. Southey to condemn
the measures into which Mr. Wesley was betrayed
more cordially than I did at the time, and continue
to do to the present moment. But the question most
important to Mr. Wesley's moral character is, whether
he was led captive by the solicitations of others, acting
upon the assailable points of his then debilitated
mind, or whether, from an ambitious desire to con-
solidate his community, and perpetuate his name, he
was induced to sink the long-maintained character of
an evangelist in that of a wily and sinuous politician.
This latter supposition Mr. Southey has felt himself
obliged, I am sure most reluctantly, to entertain. In
addition to the semblance of displeasure already
referred to, Mr. Southey remarks that Mr. Wesley's
“conduct upon this point was neither consistent nor
ingenuous ;” and he says still more strongly that,
however dexterous he had been in saving “himself
from any sacrifice of pride, he was not always so suc-
cessful on the score of principle; for his attachment
to the Church was sacrificed to the desire of extend-
ing and preserving his power.”
That such, to every appearance, is the natural con-
struction of Mr. Wesley's conduct, I regret to acknow-
ledge; and nothing short of my personal acquaintance
with Mr. Wesley, and my actual attention at the time
to the transactions in question, would authorise me
to dispute its justness. Mr. Southey has fully shown
his disposition to judge of Mr. Wesley not only can-
didly, but kindly; I therefore venture to submit to
Mr. Southey, whether the allegations just quoted can,
in the nature of things, be imputable, if the testimony
I have borne to John Wesley's general character in
the preceding paragraphs be founded. But I am glad
to think that I am not obliged to rest my vindication
I F 3
4.38 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
of his intentional rectitude merely on probable
evidence. There are circumstances connected with
the case itself which may, and in some instances,
I think, must, have escaped Mr. Southey's observation,
but which, I trust, when considered, will be found to
dispel every suspicion of duplicity, as implying a
mode of conduct which could not consist with artifice,
and only bespoke the most painful and pitiable
vacillation.
Before adverting to those particulars, I would
observe, that in one of my first interviews with Mr.
Wesley, after the occurrences in question, I thought
it right to disclose to him my whole mind upon the
subject; and from the manner in which he heard me,
and from what he said in reply, I saw clearly that he
felt himself in a vortex of difficulties, and that, in the
steps he had taken, the yielding to what he thought
pressing exigencies, he nevertheless had done violence
to undissembled and rooted feeling. I had been long
aware that two dissonant principles wrought in Mr.
Wesley's mind; that he was unfeignedly attached to
the Church of England, but that he was more sensi-
tively and practically united to his own Society; not,
I was persuaded, because it was his own Society, but
because he overrated its value, and had an extrava-
gant notion of its providential destination. Accord-
ingly, in his well-known “Reasons against Separation,”
though they were stated with clearness, and urged
with all his accustomed energy, he concludes with
asserting only the inea pediency of such a measure;
while Mr. Charles Wesley, in adding his signature,
recorded also his conviction that a separation of the
Methodists from the Church of England was unlawful
as well as inexpedient. Mr. Southey is well acquainted
with Mr. Charles Wesley's unshaken consistency. But
this early difference between the brothers seems
somewhat to qualify Mr. John Wesley's eventual in-
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 439
consistency, and, in point of fact, to shelter him from
the charge of dissimulation. -
I need scarcely say that it is only in what regards
moral feeling that I am anxious John Wesley should
stand acquitted. His affection for the Church of
England, I have every reason to know, was unfeigned
and cordial; and yet I believe that if, at any time
after the formation of his Society, he had been
reduced to the alternative of being expelled from the
Church, or of relinquishing his system, he would have
suffered the former, rather than resolve upon the
latter; simply because he conceived that the spiritual
benefits conferred on individuals, by means of his
Society, were too deep and too extensive to allow
that he should abandon it. And yet so much did he
deprecate a gratuitous separation, that when, some
years before his death, I asked him, in a private con-
versation, how he should wish his friends to act in
case of the Methodists withdrawing from the Esta-
blished Church, his answer was, I would have them
adhere to the Church, and leave the Methodists.
It is on the proofs which Mr. Wesley gave to the
last of this same feeling every now and then recover-
ing its ascendency, even after he had yielded, and,
strange to think, was occasionally still yielding, to
contrarious counsels, that I ground my exculpation
of him from intentional duplicity. I submit the par-
ticular instances to Mr. Southey's consideration: he
will judge whether they do not give evidence of a
mind at distressing variance with itself, and as inca-
pable of forming any politic design for its own pur-
pose, as of detecting the representations of interested
or prejudiced advisers.
The first remarkable instance of the kind to which
I allude, occurred more than two years after his first
ordination for America. A spirit of decided dissent
broke out at Deptford, and Mr. Wesley was urged to
F F 4
440 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
allow the Methodists there to hold their Sunday ser-
vice at Church hours. But he refused compliance,
on the ground (Journal, 1st edit., Sept. 24. 1786)
that “this would be a formal separation from the
Church.” “To fix,” (our service) he adds, “at the
same hour, is obliging them to separate, either from
the Church or us; and this I judge to be not only
inexpedient, but totally unlawful for me to do.”
. This remonstrance, however, had but a transient
effect; for, on the 2nd of January following, his
words are: “I went over to Deptford; but it seemed
I was got into a den of lions: most of the leading
men in the Society were mad for separating from the
Church. I endeavoured to reason with them, but in
vain; they had neither sense nor even good manners
left. At length, after meeting the whole Society, I
told them, “If you are resolved, you may have your
service in the Church hours: but, remember, from
that time you will see my face no more! This struck
deep, and from that hour I have heard no more of
separation from the Church.”
How Mr. Wesley could overlook the encouragement
which he himself had given to such movements of
dissent, I acknowledge I do not comprehend. But
these expressions not only bear an indubitable stamp
of feeling, but it is impossible to conceive why, in
that instance, he should have spoken otherwise than
he felt, and still more, that he should have made such
a record without a conscious sense of sincerity. Com-
mon policy would have especially forbidden its pub-
lication, had he been in a state of mind duly to weigh
either his own recent measures, or the consequences
morally certain to ensue from them.
When those, however, whom we may suppose to
have advised those measures, came themselves into
power, they did their utmost to suppress this unques-
tionable evidence of Mr. Wesley's variance with
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 441
himself, or rather of what were still the unbiassed
workings of his heart. In every edition of Mr. Wes-
ley's Journal, subsequent to his death, the former
passage (Sept. 24th, 1786) is mutilated, and the
latter passage (Jan. 2nd, 1787) wholly cancelled.
They, doubtless, hoped to consign this virtual protest
against their meditated plan to everlasting oblivion.
But I happened to procure the original edition, and
thereby had it in my power to quote both passages
in a small pamphlet which I published in England in
the year 1794, against the then commencing sepa-
ration, and from that pamphlet I have now tran-
scribed them. Their suppression is remarkable not
only for the wily policy of the act itself, but also as
it serves to illustrate the kind of influence under
which Mr. Wesley was placed during the last years
of his life. -
Some other evidences of his radically unchanged
principles (however he might have been seduced to
depart from them in those strange instances of prac-
tice) could not be similarly put out of view, though
no endeavour of this kind was wanting. Thus, when
Mr. Wesley was in Ireland, in the year 1789, at a
distance from prejudiced advisers, and amongst per-
sons cordially attached to the Church of England, he
composed a sermon on Hebrews, v. 4., which he pub-
lished, twelve months after, in the Arminian Magazine,
containing as energetic a testimony as could be ex-
pressed in language against separation from the
Church, and assumption by his preachers of the
priestly office. That even in this sermon there are
gross inconsistencies and self-impositions, I must
allow ; but where he urges what he considered the
main point, the expressions are self-evidently the
language of his heart. Fully aware that there was
an ambition amongst his preachers to assume the
ministerial office, he tells them : “Ye never dreamed
442 REMAIRKS ON THE LIFE AND
of this for ten or twenty years after ye began to
preach. Ye did not then, like Korah, Dathan, and
Abiram, seek the priesthood also. Ye knew, no man
taketh this honour to himself, but he that is called of
God, as was Aaron.” He then proceeds: “O! contain
yourselves within your own bounds. Be content
with preaching the Gospel. I earnestly advise you,
abide in your place; keep your own station. Ye
were fifty years ago, those of you who were then
Methodist preachers, extraordinary messengers of
God, not going in your own will, but thrust out, not
to supersede, but to provoke to jealousy the ordinary
messengers. In God's name stop there. Ye your-
selves were at first called in the Church of England;
and though ye have, and will have, a thousand tempt-
ations to leave it, and set up for yourselves, regard
them not. Be Church-of-England men still. Do not
cast away the peculiar glory which God hath put
upon you, and frustrate the design of Providence,
the very end for which God raised you up.”
How very unpalatable this language was, to those
whose counsels had already made the evil too strong
for repression, appears from their omission of this ser-
mon in the volume of Mr. Wesley's yet uncollected
discourses, published after his death. He had himself
collected into four volumes the sermons he had written
for the Arminian Magazine; but as he persevered
in this labour until within the last three months of his
life, enough remained at the time of his death to form
an additional volume. But the sermon from which I
have transcribed the above passage was suppressed,
and has never since appeared in any edition of Mr.
Wesley's sermons. It follows that if Mr. Wesley had
been wholly guided by those persons who occasionally,
toward the close of his life, had influence upon him,
and who came into full power at his death, that dis-
course never would have appeared, nor, indeed, ever
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 443
would have been written. Although, therefore, this
sermon affords little evidence of Mr. Wesley's firmness
or consistency, since, in the former part of it, he gives
up the principle which he had so strenuously main-
tained in September, 1786, and January, 1787, yet
the case altogether clearly shows, that there was no
community either of counsels or of feelings between
Mr. Wesley and that separating faction to which, not-
withstanding, in spite of himself, he was gradually
giving way. Hence then, I conceive, all that I am
anxious to prove necessarily follows; I mean, that
John Wesley's share in those separating movements
had nothing in it of artful contrivance, or of system-
atical design, but that it was a reluctant yielding to
circumstances which had become embarrassing in pro-
portion as he became incapable of managing them;
while, at the same time, he foresaw results which he
would fain have palliated, but which he could not
anticipate without unfeigned anguish of heart.
That such strictly were Mr. Wesley's feelings within
the last twelve months of his life, appears from a paper
which he published in the Arminian Magazine for
April, 1790. It is his object to defend himself against
the charge of being a separatist; but his arguments
are better fitted to excite pity than to produce con-
viction. Every thing he says bespeaks present per-
plexity, and apprehension for the future: the last
paragraph in particular expresses, in language beyond
all deceit, the painful forebodings of an afflicted heart.
“I never,” he says, “ had any design of separating
from the Church; I have no such design now : I do
not believe the Methodists in general design it. I do,
and will do, all that is in my power to prevent such
an event: nevertheless, in spite of all I can do, many
will separate from it; although I am inclined to think
not one half, perhaps not a third of them. These will
be so bold and injudicious as to form a separate party,
444 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
which, consequently, will dwindle into a dry, dull,
separate party. In flat opposition to these, I declare,
once more, that I live and die a member of the Church
of England, and that none who regard my judgement
or advice will ever separate from it.”
The false reckonings which Mr. Wesley still enter-
tained, when he wrote this paragraph, neither affect its
import nor abate its force. It is neither more nor
less than John Wesley's own final deep-toned manifesto
against that very thing which his people became, as
soon as it was in their power, after his death. It is
needless to say, that he never could have thus ex-
pressed himself, had he in any degree consciously
symbolized with them, or even if he had been half-
hearted upon the subject.
Still, however, it may be objected, that soon after
the publication of that paper, the conclusion of which
I have just transcribed, Mr. Wesley, according to Mr.
Moore (Life of Wesley, vol. ii. p. 386.), added one
more to the number of those who had been ordained
by him and his two associates. But on full consider-
ation, I cannot see that even this strange act would
warrant the suspicion that, in deprecating secession
from the Church, he had not spoken from his heart.
On the contrary, I can conceive that, partly from the
general illusiveness of his views, and partly from the
increased weakness of all his mental powers, he might
have persuaded himself that, by giving the best ordi-
nation he could, to a few of his preachers, on whose
discretion and steadiness he thought he might rely,
he would not further, but impede a general separation.
I grant, on the first view, it must appear unreason-
able that even the imbecility of old age could have
formed such a thought ; but that it might not be
wholly without plausibility to John Wesley's per-
plexed and boding mind, is countenanced by this
remarkable fact, that in the actual event of separation,
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 445
the orders conferred by Mr. Wesley were treated with
jealousy and neglect, if not with absolute scorn. It
was determined that the few preachers who had re-
ceived those orders, instead of communicating them
to the rest, (which would of course have been the case
On the supposition of a concerted plan,) should, on the
contrary, be allowed no kind of pre-eminence; but that
the preachers generally, in proportion as Societies
might wish for it, should, without any previous cere-
mony, exercise every ministerial function, that is,
should literally realise what Mr. Wesley had repro-
bated as the crime of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram.
The absurdity of Mr. Wesley's conduct, as well as of
his calculations, is one thing, but the duplicity of it is
quite another thing; and I submit whether the actual
event (proving, as it does, a complete dissonance of
design between him and the leading preachers,) must
not be held to acquit him of prevarication or collusion,
as much as it convicts him of practical vacillation
and palpable self-deception ? I should certainly feel
it much more difficult to understand Mr. Wesley's
conduct, if I were not previously acquainted with the
peculiar anomalies of his mind. As I have already inti-
mated, there were two sets of affections, of which each
had a real place in his heart. In his prevalent tastes and
likings, as an individual, he was a Church-of-England
man of the highest tone: not only did he value and love
that pure spirit of faith and piety which the Church of
England inherits from Catholic antiquity; but even
in the more circumstantial part, there was not a ser-
vice or a ceremony, a gesture or a habit, for which he
had not an unfeigned predilection. He was not only
free from every puritanical leaning, but the aversion
for those early enemies of the Established Church which
he had imbibed in his youth, though repressed and
counteracted, was by no means wholly subdued, even in
the last stage of his life. His own ecclesiastical irregu-
446 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
larities had arisen, not from choice, but solely from what
he himself had considered an imperative call of duty.
By obeying this call, he conceived he had been an in-
strument of inestimable good to many thousands of
human beings; and to sustain that good in its ex-
tension, or even existence, he regarded his Society as
indispensable. Here, therefore, (as I have already,
more than once, intimated,) was the single consider-
ation to which he was prepared to sacrifice, in case of
absolute necessity, those original attachments which,
I am certain, notwithstanding, existed to the last hour
in his heart. It appears, however, to have been his
wish and hope to avert any such necessity, and by
partial compliances, like many another mistaken poli-
tician, to arrest a revolutionary progress, which, when
completed, he had still judgement enough to foresee
would effect what he accounted the ruin of his insti-
tution.
Were I called upon to express my sense of Mr.
Wesley's conduct in those unfortunate conjunctures,
under the most solemn sanction, and with all my
own recollections before me, I could not deviate from
the view I have now given; and, with respect to his
general character, from all I perceived in him, or have
known concerning him, I must deliberately express
my conviction, that Mr. Wesley “prided himself” in
nothing, and that he was not more devoid of the love
of money than of the love of power; that while he
certainly had some of “the talents,” he had not a par-
ticle of what could be called “the temper, of a states-
man ; ” that Mr. Fletcher himself was not more
devoid of ambition than Mr. Wesley; and, in one word,
that while he possessed every amiable, and excellent,
and saintlike quality, which Mr. Southey has so elo-
quently and so cordially ascribed to him, there never
was a mere human being more completely free from
those very frailties of temper and heart, to which Mr.
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 447
Southey has, with so much apparent reason, been led
to impute Mr. Wesley's concluding inconsistencies.
I even again express my entire persuasion, that had
Mr. Southey personally known Mr. Wesley, as I knew
him, he would have borne substantially the same testi-
mony as I am now bearing. He would have equall
condemned the inconsistency into which Mr. Wesley
was betrayed; but, I rest confident, he would have
acquitted him of every thing which could imply arti-
fice or duplicity, or which in any respect impeached
the humility of his mind, or the purity of his heart.
In that case, I strongly think Mr. Southey would have
judged more favourably of Mr. Wesley's conduct on a
particular occasion in the earlier part of his course,
the external circumstances of which Mr. Southey has
very exactly detailed; I mean Mr. Wesley's difference
with Count Zinzendorf and his people.
That, in this instance, Mr. Wesley never acted or
spoke indiscreetly, is more than I could assert: he
had, in fact, so intimately connected himself with the
Moravian Brethren, as to make a subsequent separation
peculiarly painful and embarrassing. Mr. Southey
seems to be of opinion that this disagreement was, on
Mr. Wesley's side, a result of ambitious jealousy, rather
than of conscientious principle; and, considering the
light in which Mr. Southey has been led to view Mr.
Wesley's general character, I do not wonder that he
should put this construction on that particular trans-
action. But to me, who from close and often-repeated
inspection of Mr. Wesley, am convinced of his free-
dom from every selfish frailty, his proceedings in
separating from the Moravians appear to involve no-
thing, in substance, which was not enjoined by Mr.
Wesley's views of duty, and the circumstances of the
case. I must even acknowledge, that had he acted ma-
terially otherwise with respect to Count Zinzerdorf and
his missionaries, after becoming acquainted with their
448 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
real character, I could not have regarded him in the
same morally pure and spotless light in which he has
always appeared to me; nor could I, by any means,
equally esteem him an important instrument of mys-
terious Providence.
I mentioned, in my former communication, that the
feature in Mr. Wesley's character which chiefly ex-
cited my esteem, and which seemed to me to cast a
softening light over even his errors and excesses, was
his ardent and uniform zeal for the moral spirit of
Christianity. This I deliberately think it was which
alone animated him in all his conflicts with con-
temporary religionists. Hence, exclusively, arose that
remarkable controversy, in the later part of Mr.
Wesley's life, wherein the pure-minded Mr. Fletcher
had so distinguished a share. The native tone of
Mr. Wesley's moral nature, heightened, as I have said,
by his close and cordial study of the ancient Fathers,
and the Anti-Calvinist divines of the Church of
England, made it impossible for him to endure the
solifidian system in any shape or form, and, least of
all, in that gross modification of it, which the disciples
of Zinzendorf were anxious to promulgate.
Mr. Wesley had evidently found nothing of this
kind in his communications with Peter Boehler. In
his visit to the Moravian settlements of Marienborn and
Hernhuth, he met several matters which, whether with
or withoutreason, he was inclined to question; butgross
unsoundness of doctrine did not yet present itself.
That a limited confidence was placed in Mr. Wesley, as
being not fully prepared for initiation, may beinferred
from what Count Zinzendorf said in the subsequent
conversation at Gray's Inn Walks. It would seem,
however, that the doctrinal views of the Moravians
themselves had assumed somewhat of a new form
during the years 1739 and 1740, and that the principles
which called forth Mr. Wesley's strenuous opposition,
in the year 1741, had been scarcely suspected by him,
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 449
until they were actually promulgated. Even then, I
should suppose, the more gross extravagances of the
Count were, at least, but in embryo; at any rate (as
Mr. Southey observes),they “had not been transplanted
into England;” otherwise Mr. Wesley's resistance
would have been far more emergetic, and his secession
immediate.
Mr. Southey has attentively noted the particulars
of this remarkable event in Mr. Wesley's course. But
I am obliged to take a very different view of the
motives and feelings from which it proceeded. I see
Mr. Wesley, as I myself knew him, working his
painful but most upright way, through those per-
plexing circumstances; I discover no movement which
was not dictated by his regard for evangelical truth,
or suggested by his gratitude for what he esteemed
spiritual benefit. The latter sentiment accounts to
me for every instance of caution or hesitation ; the
former, for his practical decisiveness, in the issue.
I allow that Mr. Wesley “was not born to hold a
secondary place; ” but I most conscientiously and
Solemnly maintain that it was exclusively from his
firmness of principle, and independence of spirit, and
in no respect from an overbearing temper, or an
arrogant mind. Besides, it seems to me that no two
human minds could have been more opposed to each
other, in spirit and habits, than the mind of Count
Zinzendorf and that of John Wesley. Count
Zinzendorf was specious, artful, and insinuating; and,
it would appear, could make out by contrivance what
was wanting in fact. John Wesley, on the contrary,
wore no disguise; he disdained every shape and form
of artifice; and perhaps never was as attentive as he
should have been to unite the wisdom of the Serpent
with the harmlessness of the dove. They could not,
therefore, have gone on together, had their doctrinal
disagreement been less essential. But, things being
VOL. II. G. G.
450 REMARKS ()N THE LIFE AND
as they were, the concentrated pointing of John
Wesley's sternly moral mind, and religiously devoted
heart, led him irresistibly to that uncompromising
course which he actually pursued.
Mr. Southey remarks, that after the formal breach,
“the Moravians forbore from all controversy on the
subject: but Wesley did not continue the tone of
charity and candour in which he had addressed them
upon the separation.” As to the silence of the
Moravians, I apprehend, it was only an instance of
their general determination. At no time, perhaps,
could Count Zinzendorf have satisfactorily explained
his measures; and the more his system advanced,
the necessity seems to have become greater, for avoid-
ing development. Mr. Wesley, I am persuaded,
would have still continued his tone of charity and
candour, if fresh grounds of animadversion had not
come before him. Mr. Wesley's former intimacy with
the Moravians made it impossible for him to escape
entire knowledge of those enormities in sentiment,
if not in practice, by which Count Zinzendorf scan-
dalised Christianity, and outraged common decency.
Mr. Southey, with the most obvious wish not to be
unduly severe, justly describes the Count's offensive
language and conduct as “loathsome and impious
extravagances.” If the “perilous error” of this in-
fatuated man be thus revolting to Mr. Southey,
in the distant retrospect, with what feelings could
Mr. Wesley have regarded it, at the moment, but those
of indignation and horror
I would also observe, that the instances of dis-
continued “charity and candour” which Mr. Southey
has adverted to, occurred more than ten years after
the formal separation. During that interval the
Count had been playing “such fantastic tricks before
high heaven” as astounded all sober-minded Christians
throughout Protestant Europe. And though I think
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESIDEY. 451
Mr. Wesley would have done much better, had he
passed over the Ostentatious parade of titles, where
there were such weightier matters of censure, and
though I by no means question that it was very
injudicious to found general charges on private com-
munications to himself, when so many particulars of
a gross and flagrant kind were authentically before
the public ; yet, considering the general strain of Mr.
Wesley's Journal (how far, in itself, allowable or ex-
ceptionable, I am not inquiring) and the habitual
freedom with which he gives his thoughts of men and
things, it would be to me, knowing Mr. Wesley as I
did, a matter of wonder, if his strictures on Count
Zinzendorf had been less explicit or less emphatical.
I have not a doubt that his hatred of the Count's
character and conduct was as intense as his own love
of purity, “simplicity, and godly sincerity;” and, cir-
cumstanced as he was, and had been, he must have
felt and resented, perhaps more than any other of his
contemporaries, the depth and virulence of the
scandal. I plead, however, for Mr. Wesley's correct-
ness of judgement in few things, either actual or
verbal; but I unfeignedly and cordially offer myself
as an evidence (perhaps the only impartial one now
living) to his utter incapacity of every thing “dis-
ingenuous; ” to his childlike “candour,” and to his
invincible “charity.”
Mr. Southey says, most justly, of Mr. Wesley, that
he “never returned railing for railing,” and that he
was “always calm and decorous in controversy.” But
I venture to assert that this was not merely, or chiefly,
because “he had his temper entirely under command,”
but rather, because he had no unkindly temper to
control. I repeat what Ihave said in effect already, that
I never knew a man who seemed to me more deeply
imbued with that heavenly principle of which St. Paul
says, “Oi pugioſtol, oùx &g Xmpowsi, od śºrsi Tà éo.97%ig,
G G 2
452 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
où Topoćveral.” The ascribing the illness of his chief
antagonist to the “arm of the Lord,” bespoke that
want, which often shewed itself; I mean, of Sober
judgement; but, prone as he was to resolve everything
into particular Providence, it was a natural result of
this persuasion to put that construction on the
seemingly opportune fettering of one whom he con-
sidered, as “not ceasing” (like Elymas of old) to
“pervert the right ways of the Lord.” It has been a
common error of Reformers to suppose themselves
standing on the same ground as the Apostles; and
though in John Wesley this persuasion was qualified
by a generous temper, a cultivated mind, and an
understanding as clear, in some instances, as it was
obscured and limited in others, he nevertheless felt an
habitual confidence, that, in his conflicts for “pure
and undefiled religion” (that “holiness, without which
no man shall see the Lord,”) the hand of God was
with him. Such a contention strictly he considered
that with Mr. Molther. He was not supporting one
opinion against another. He conceived himself
resisting the grossest adulteration possible of evan-
gelical morality. On his own principles, therefore, he
was likely to suppose a providential interference,
though he was as charitable as a ministering angel.
The weakness and precipitancy of such a reckoning I
entirely allow; but as I can conceive St. Paul to have
struck Elymas with blindness, and yet have no
particle of uncharitable feeling toward the unhappy
victim, so can I similarly suppose John Wesley to
have been as devoid of malevolence as the Apostle
himself; the delusiveness of the one case, as opposed
to the reality of the other, implying the greatest
difference in what concerns the understanding; but, as
it seems to me, no difference necessarily in what con-
cerns the heart. Still, had I not personally known
Mr. Wesley, and been thereby entitled to judge more
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 453
exactly respecting his dispute with the Moravians, I
might possibly have felt, with Mr. Southey, that Mr.
Wesley's justification of himself against Mr. Church's
charge of imagining “immediate punishments” from
heaven “on those who opposed ” him, was “very
discreditable.” I canwell understand that Mr. Wesley's
limitation of his assertion, as not having said that it
was “a judgement of God for opposing” him, should
appear, even to the most candid reader, little better
than an unworthy quibble. But, from my nearer
acquaintance with Mr. Wesley's character, I feel
entire conviction, that he meant honestly to express
what was really in his heart. The opposition of Mr.
Molther to himself, I am infinitely assured, never cost
him a thought. Even as a man, he rose above selfish
passions, and as a Christian he abhorred them. But his
zeal for evangelical virtue was uncompromising and
intense; and where this best of interests appeared to
him to be either outrageously or insidiously opposed,
his over ardent imagination was too apt to mistake
common casualties for special interferences of heaven.
I am well aware that this was one of his very weakest
points; but I most deliberately avouch, once more,
that his own honour, or his own consequence, was to
him as the small dust of the balance; and that he
cared for nothing on this earth, but that which he
conceived vitally connected with the practical religion
of the heart. And he too well knew the nature of this
heavenly principle, and was himself much too deeply
imbued and animated with its influence, to conceive
for a moment that “the wrath of man” could work, in
any instance or manner, “the righteousness of God.”
Mr. Southey remarks that John Wesley's doctrine
of perfection was at least as objectionable to the
Moravians as their mysticism to him; and gives his
own judgement, that assuredly it was more dan-
gerous.
G G 3
454 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
I can venture to say, from my knowledge of Mr.
Wesley, that if mysticism alone had been chargeable
on the Moravians, his objections would have been
much more easily obviated. He certainly considered
the supposed self-annihilation of mysticism to be in
opposition to the tenor of Holy Scripture, which
uniformly addresses itself to man's natural thirst for
happiness; but still, he thought, that whatever per-
nicious consequences were to be feared from the
mystical illusion, itself might coexist with the deepest
piety. In those Moravians, however, he saw it
strangely associated with principles leading directly
to laxity of practice; and on this account he seems to
have animadverted on mysticism with more severity
than was his usual custom. In fact, had he not
regarded mystics generally with liberal indulgence,
he would hardly have abridged Law's later works,
and Madame Guion's Life of Herself, for circulation
amongst his people.
But Mr. Southey expresses a strong opinion that
John Wesley's doctrine of perfection was more dan-
gerous than the Moravian mysticism. On this point
it is my wish merely to state facts, in order to enable
Mr. Southey, after hearing evidence, to fix the extent
of Mr. Wesley's liability to censure.
It is a fact, then, that in one stage of Mr. Wesley's
course, he carried the doctrine of religious perfection
to such an extreme as to call forth his own subse-
quent censure and retractation. In a preface to a
volume of hymns, published in the year 1741, he
made those excessive statements; and to a republica-
tion of that preface, in 1777, he appended notes for
the purpose of disavowing several of his former posi-
tions. Still, however, he retained his persuasion, that
that maturity of Christian virtue for which he con-
tended was, though not always, yet in general, Sud-
denly acquired, and that there was a special witness
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 455
of the Holy Spirit, by which those who attained it
were inwardly and immediately assured of its posses-
sion. In both which instances, Mr. Wesley appears
to have relied exclusively on what he conceived him-
self to have seen and heard within his own Society.
How much he was exposed to delusion by relying on
this standard, I have already remarked. But it was
a necessary result of that credulity of which Mr.
Southey most justly says, that it “was Wesley's
peculiar weakness, and he retained it to the last.”
It is, however, not the less true, that “as he grew
older, cooler, and wiser, he modified and softened
down" the doctrine of perfection; but I confess he
does not appear to me to have “almost explained it
away,” but rather to have returned to that notion of
it which he could not but know was alone counte-
nanced by the consent of the ancient Fathers, and the
most eminent anti-Calvinistic divines of the Church
of England. I do not mean that his return was full
and perfect; I speak only of the substance of what
he taught, as Mr. Southey has quoted it. He thinks
that Mr. Wesley, having thus moderated the doctrine,
should also have abandoned the term. That he made
an injudicious use of it, so that the word became
hackneyed, and the idea which it conveys permiciously
misconceived, I freely allow ; but I would submit to
Mr. Southey some of the authorities which counte-
nanced the term itself substantially in the same sense
in which Mr. Wesley applied it. .
Mr. Southey is not to be told that Peter Lombard,
in his Book of Sentences, aims at giving a digested
compendium of the theology taught by the Fathers.
In correcting the excess of some innovators, who main-
tained that the grace of charity, once really possessed, is
never lost, and who thought to support that position
by St. Paul's declaration, that “charity never faileth,”
he says: “Potest tamen hoc, et cætera quae de cari-
G G 4
456 . REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
tate dicta sunt, de perfectá caritate intelligi, quam
soli perfect; habent. Sunt enim virtutis exordia, et
profectus, et perfectio.” He even goes so far as to
say, (quoting St. Augustin to bear him out,) that
while not only caritas incipiens, but even caritas
“provecta amitti potest, et Sape amittitur, perfecta
caritas sic radicata est, ut amitti nequeat.” In which
position, by the way, “the Master” is not followed
by later Roman Catholic divines; and accordingly,
Istius, in his work on the Book of Sentences, enters a
caveat against it; while, on the contrary, the learned
and judicious Bishop Overall (Appendix to Ford, De
Articulis) quotes this very passage from Lombard, as
in unison with the doctrines of the English Church.
A much earlier writer than Lombard, but who,
like him, strictly formed himself on the model of the
ancients, has also made deliberate and deep use of the
term in question. I the more readily refer to him,
because I perceive that he does not stand higher in
my estimation than in that of Mr. Southey ; I mean
the truly venerable Bede. The passage from which
I mean to quote is too long to be transcribed, which
it would well deserve, notwithstanding its fancifully
allegorical form. His subject is, the two altars in
the Jewish temple; the altar of burnt-offerings, and
the altar of incense. These he ingeniously (however
gratuitously) supposes to be emblematic of two de-
grees of practical Christianity; that in which it is
substantially commenced and established in the mind
and heart, and that in which it has advanced to ma-
turity. Those who belong to the lower state of grace,
he says, “walk not after the desires of the flesh ; but
having sacrificed their desires to God, they dedicate
to His will, through the fire of the Holy Spirit, all
their bodily senses.” In these he thinks he finds
various points of resemblance to the brazen altar on
which the sacrifices were consumed. Those, on the
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 457
other hand, whom he conceives represented by the
altar of incense, are they, “qui, majori mentis per-
fectione, extinctis prorsus et sopitis illecebris omnibus
carnis, sola, Domino, orationum vota offerunt.” He
adds, that in Christians of this high character there
remains, “nil quidem de carne, quod Se impugnet;
nil de conscientiã peccati, unde conturbentur ac
paveant.”
Were my books just now within my reach, I dare
say I might produce several other similar instances.
But I had happened to make extracts from both
Lombard and Bede, and to have them at hand. I
might also produce several divines of the Church of
England; but I believe it will be sufficient to quote
Bishop Taylor and Dr. Lucas, both of whom John
Wesley had peculiarly made “guides of his youth ;”
and as he appears to have been, under Providence, in
debted to them for some of his best principles, it is
at least not to be wondered at that he should have
adopted and retained, not only the matter of their
sentiments, but their modes of expression.* -
Mr. Southey has recorded the deep impression on
Mr. Wesley's yet unestablished mind, from reading
Jeremy Taylor's Holy Living ; and he himself is
doubtless well acquainted with the works of an
author whose spirit was so congenial to his own.
But probably he never happened on the following
passage, in one of Taylor's latest discourses, which
was preached before the University of Dublin in
1662.
* Mr. Southey may reasonably ask, on what ground I have thus
associated Lucas with Taylor in John Wesley's early institution. My
answer is, that a hymn, which manifests J. W.’s peculiar manner,
entitled Zeal, is to be found in his first volume of Hymns, which, while it
expresses the highest soarings of a morally ambitious mind, is, from
beginning to end, a close versification of a passage in Lucas, in which,
under the term of 2eal, the highest supposable state of grace on earth
is vividly, and I might say sublimely, delineated. -
458 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
“Lastly, there is a sort of God's dear servants who
walk in perfectness ; who perfect holiness in the fear
of God; and they have a degree of charity and divine
knowledge more than we can discourse of, and more
certain than the demonstrations of geometry, brighter
than the sun, and indeficient as the light of heaven.
But I shall say no more of this at this time; for this
is to be felt, and not to be talked of; and they who
never touched it with their fingers may secretly,
perhaps, laugh at it in their hearts, and be never the
wiser. All that I shall now say of it is, that a good
man is united unto God, xévrpov xévtpºp a ſºvo. Jog. As
a flame touches a flame, and combines into splendour
and glory, so is the spirit of a man united unto Christ
by the Spirit of God. These are the friends of God,
and they best know God's mind; and they only that
are so, know how much such men do know. They
have a special unction from above.”
Mr. Wesley would be the more likely to catch the
spirit, and even the expression, of such a glowing
passage as this, because the tenor of Bishop Taylor's
former writings give evidence that it was no mere
burst of eloquence, or flight of imagination, but that
it spoke the language of his uniform persuasion and
settled judgement. Thus, in the dedication to Lord
Carbery, of that very work by which Mr. Wesley had
been so remarkably impressed, the Holy Living, he
could not have failed to notice an observation, which
in different words conveyed substantially the same
notion: “There are some persons,” he says, “in whom
the Spirit of God hath breathed so bright a flame of
love, that they do all their acts of virtue by perfect
choice, and without objection; and their zeal is
warmer than that it will be allayed by temptation;
and to such persons mortification by philosophical
instruments, as fasting, sackcloth, and other rude-
nesses, is wholly useless. If love hath filled all the
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 459
corners of our soul, he alone is able to do all the work
of God.”
I must not omit to mention, that in Mr. Wesley's
own “account” of his doctrine “of Christian per-
fection,” he states that his feelings on that subject
were first excited in reading the last-mentioned work
of Bishop Taylor; “that part, in particular, which
relates to purity of intention.”
Dr. Lucas is much less known in the present day
than he ought to be. I can only account for it by
supposing that his views of Christian piety are too
moral and practical for those who belong to the
“Evangelical” party, and too affectionate and spiritual
for most of those who are adverse to it. In what
estimation he was formerly held, may be seen in the
sixty-third number of the Guardian.
“An Enquiry after Happiness,” in two volumes,
8vo, is his principal work; the third part of which
fills the second volume, and is entitled Religious
Perfection. I have already mentioned one evidence
of Mr. Wesley's esteem for this treatise: another is,
that he inserted it, with little abridgement, in his
Christian Library. A single passage will enable Mr.
Southey to judge whether Mr. Wesley's language,
as well as his practical view of the subject, is not
countenanced by this wise and excellent divine.
“Religious perfection,” he says, “is nothing else
but the moral accomplishment of human nature,
such a maturity of virtue as man in this life is capable
of. Conversion begins, perfection consummates, the
habit of righteousness: in the one, religion is as it
were in its infancy; in the other, in its strength and
manhood; so that perfection, in short, is nothing else
but a ripe and settled habit of true holiness. Accord-
ing to this notion of religious perfection, he is a
perfect man whose mind is pure and vigorous, and
his body tame and obsequious; whose faith is firm
460 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
and steady, his love ardent and exalted, and his hope
full of assurance; whose religion has in it that ardour
and constancy, and his soul that tranquillity and
pleasure, which bespeaks him a child of the light and
of the day, a partaker of the Divine nature, and
raised above the corruption which is in this world
through lust.” -
Such is Dr. Lucas's statement of that full grown
Christian piety which he denominates religious per-
fection, and which, under this notion, he proceeds to
expand and enforce. After having completed his
design, in his conclusion he thus expresses himself:
“An opinion of the impossibility of perfection has
both been begot and cherished by those bold schemes
of it which have been drawn by the hands of a flaming,
indeed, but an indiscreet zeal. But I have here
recommended to the world no fantastic or enthusiastic
perfection: I have advanced no heights of virtue,
but what many do, I hope, actually feel and expe-
rience in themselves; none but what I am sure the
followers of the blessed Jesus actually attained and
practised. Be ye followers of us, said the Apostles,
as we are of Christ.” --
That Mr. Wesley had not always followed Dr.
Lucas in his discretion (while he used his language),
I have already quoted him as virtually acknowledging.
But it appears that even that excess was not his own
fanatical conception, but arose from following too
implicitly the overcharged, though still beautiful,
draught of a perfect Christian by Clemens Alexan-
drinus. He says, in one of his letters (xxx"), “I do
not admire that description now as I did formerly;
I now see a stoic and a Christian are different cha-
racters.” In the moderated view here referred to, and
stated more fully in the letter which Mr. Southey has
quoted, I would beg to submit whether Mr. Wesley
has done more than come down from the height
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 461
which he at length saw to be imaginary, to Dr.
Lucas's sounder and more intelligible level; I would
venture to ask whether he can be fairly censured for
retaining the eaſpressions, while soberly reducing his
doctrine to the notion of perhaps the soundest mind
which had thought upon the subject.
“Soberly,” I mean, as to the substance of the doc-
trine; but I must again confess, not as to all its
circumstances. I most sincerely regard as untenable
and perilous the “urging” of “believers,” (as he
understood the term,) or any persons whatever, so to
“go on to perfection,” as “to expect it every moment.”
I believe scarcely any thing tended so much to the
detriment and discredit of Wesleyan Methodism as
the prevalence (so far as it did prevail) of that very
wrgency for present effect, which Mr. Wesley insisted
on. At the same time, I must freely own, that had
not Mr. Wesley retained Lucas's term, when he so
far “softened down” his doctrine into Lucas's sanity,
I could not regard him in exactly the same interesting
light in which he now appears to me. My meaning
is, that if he had not retained the exact language of
the ancient divines, and those in the Church of Eng-
land, who have followed them, he would not have
been an equally fit instrument of Providence for
counteracting the adulterating influence and aggres-
sive spirit of the contemporary religious agency
which was at Once, in some respects, so similar to his
own, and in others so discordant. Mr. Southey knows
well, that there was not a more perpetual bone of
contention between John Wesley and the whole
phalanx of Calvinistic religionists, than the single
word perfection. Could he have been induced to
relinquish this one obnoxious term, I am not sure
that the other more speculative differences would”
have long prevented coalition. But the point-blank
contrariety of the notion conveyed by the word per-
462 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
fection, to every shape or form of solifidianism, I
conceive to be such as to have made its retention a
certain pledge of interminable disagreement and
opposition to each other. - -
Had this term been of Mr. Wesley's own manufac-
ture, the question respecting it would have a very
different aspect: nor could I then have presumed to
dispute the justness of Mr. Southey's objection to its
use. But fully as I acknowledge, and sincerely as I
dissent from, the crude coingrediency to which the
principles of those great men (who are in truth but
the specimen of “a cloud of witnesses”) were sub-
jected, in the hand of so precipitate and indiscrimi-
nating a propounder, still I conceive it of infinite
importance that, notwithstanding all his circum-
stantial extravagances, the agreement of heart and
spirit which he maintained to the end, with the pure
spiritual moralists of the Christian Church, both
ancient and modern, has served, and will yet serve,
to direct attention to those luminaries, and bring
under their safe and happy guidance, those sounder
understandings, and more exalted minds, which would
fain be devotedly religious, and yet can find, in those
theories which pass for evangelical, nothing with
which they are satisfied, and much with which they
are disgusted.
I would here take the liberty of observing, that
there is nothing in Mr. Southey's work which has
interested me more than the view which he appears
to me to take of God's providential government; and
I have read with sincere pleasure, in a very recent
publication, the strong avowal of his “persuasion,
that all things upon the great scale have tended to
the general good, and the development of the great
scheme of Providence.” The frequent application of
this principle to Mr. Wesley's commencement and
career, has always gratified and sometimes surprised
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 463
me; I mean, because I found in some instances such
a concurrence with preconceptions of my own. The
necessity which Mr. Southey has so luminously shown
(in his ninth chapter) for some interposition of Pro-
vidence to resuscitate the practical sense of religion
in the English mind, at the period when Messrs. Wes-
ley and Whitefield began to sound their alarm, has
always appeared to me to invest the phenomenon of
Methodism with a character wholly remote from
mere contingency. I must not now, however, digress
into the particular line of thought to which I have
been led respecting such movements; but I confess
I have been disposed to conclude, not merely that
Wesley and Whitefield were raised to supply a defect
for which the Church of England had not provided,
but rather to serve a purpose to which such an esta-
blishment as ours was perfectly inadequate.
The strict canonical order of our Church, which at
once furnishes aliment for the most advanced piety,
and preserves that piety, however elevated, from every
alloy of fanaticism, afforded no proportioned means
of awakening an entire people from a moral sleep,
which was consanguineus lethi. Had even any number
of the established clergy felt the exigence of the case,
and set themselves to remedy it by their exertions,
the effect at best would have been local, and most
probably transient; while, perhaps, the regularity of
the Church might have been disturbed, and its spirit,
if not vitiated, at least diluted, by the adoption of
measures which honest zeal might have inspired, and
without which it might have been, perhaps justly,
thought that little or nothing was to be accomplished.
An agency, therefore, was called forth, which might
go every length that was thought expedient, without
blemishing the character of the Established Church,
or deranging its machinery. And the two extraor-
dinary persons who were to serve this providential
464 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
purpose seemed so selected, that their exertions,
jointly and severally, might be sufficient to diffuse a
..,new religious feeling through the multitude, and to
effect, eventually, a kind of moral revolution in the
most intelligent and enlightened of nations. I do
not now rate the work which has been done by its
intrinsic qualities (the crudeness of which might be
fitted for an immature state of the public mind), but
by its magnitude, and by the contrast now apparent
with that prevalent indifference to religion which I
myself remember.
In this view, then, it appears to me, that had my
good old friend possessed a sounder understanding, and
more cautious disposition, he might have been pro-
portionably disqualified for his special destination;
and, much as I disapprove and dislike the tem-
pestuous ardour of his first addresses, and still more
the astounding effects produced by them, I am not
sure that a more sober commencement might not
have failed in bringing an individual into such uni-
versal notoriety. I am, therefore, disposed to apply
to those very revolting phenomena which attended
Mr. Wesley's earlier labours, that same notion of pro-
vidential permission, and mysterious adjustment, by
which weakness of mind and faultiness of conduct
have been so often and so variously made to subserve
the purposes of Omniscient goodness. -
I do not, however, confine this remark to the first
stage of Mr. Wesley's course; for it would seem that
his actual destination, however valuable in its essential
principles, and important in its ultimate results, was
never to emerge from circumstantial extravagance.
While in certain respects he was susceptible of mental
improvement, and by that means may have infinitely
risen in value, as an instrument of Providence, for
eventual benefit, such I conceive was the native
character of his intellectual machinery, that he was
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 465
to be always liable to fallacious apprehension, false
calculation, and disproportioned energy both of design
and execution. He was (if I mistake not) to furnish
invaluable matter for discriminative extraction, and
skilful defecation; but never, even to the last, to in-
duce any discerning mind, indiscriminately, to take
him for an example, or to rely on him as a guide.
Mr. Southey has remarked, that notwithstanding
Mr. Whitefield's singular powers of excitation, his
discourses did not produce the same violent emotions
as those of Mr. Wesley. Whatever might have been
the reason of this difference, it remarkably accorded
with the dissimilar results of their respective exer-
tions. Though Mr. Wesley was in every respect the
more accomplished person; far excelling his fellow-
labourer as a scholar, a man of mental talent, and a
gentleman; still, it was his lot to work, with few
exceptions comparatively, on the lower, if not the
lowest, classes; out of which, almost exclusively, his
Society was collected. It was not, therefore, wholly
unsuitable that, in the first instance, the feelings of
that class should be roused by gross and palpable
means; and, however incongruously those agitations
and swoonings were associated with any kind of
Christian preaching, it may be questioned whether,
all things considered, the primary nucleus of Wes-
leyan Methodism would have been formed either so
speedily or so fermentingly, if the first impression on
its component members had been more rational or
less sensitive.
Mr. Whitefield (as Mr. Southey has noticed) did
not, like Mr. Wesley, aim at forming regular and ex-
tended societies; and, however powerfully he seemed
at first to impress the colliers of Kingswood, his per-
manent disciples belonged generally to the more
decent classes; and, at length, became conspicuous
among the higher ranks of the community. What-
VOL. II. H H
466 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
ever, therefore, was the cause of Mr. Whitefield's
attractive addresses being received with less impas-
sioned emotion, there seems to have been a striking
suitableness in this circumstance to the particular
Kind of effect which was to follow from his labours.
His disciples were not, as in the case of Wesleyan
Methodism, to be subjugated to an organised system
of practical discipline, by which the entire course of
life was not only morally but circumstantially to be
controlled and moulded. He obviously had neither
talents nor inclination for embarking in such an un-
dertaking; and, in point of fact, he looked solely to
the decisive influence of his preaching on the dis-
positions and principles of his hearers. He was satis-
fied with producing lasting effects in their minds
and hearts, without trenching farther on the common
habits of life than seemed to him to be required by
religious consistency.
But the difference of manner in which the hearers
of those two remarkable persons were affected was,
perhaps, not more correspondent to their different
plans of discipleship, than it was a natural conse-
quence of the dissimilarity which existed in their sys-
tems of instruction.
Though Mr. Whitefield, after his second visit to
America, diverged from Mr. Wesley more professedly
than before, their lines of public teaching were never
exactly concordant. The most obvious difference lay in
this particular, that, from the beginning, Mr. White-
field's preaching had a doctrinal cast, which never
similarly appeared in that of Mr. Wesley's; and those
primary tendencies became fixed and systematised by
his intercourse with American Calvinists. Hence, the
religious consolation which Mr. Whitefield urged his
hearers to look for, was to consist in speculation, as
well as in sensation; in supposed truth, to be received
and rested in by their understandings, as really as in
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 4.67
perceptible influences animating their minds and en-
gaging their affections.
John Wesley, on the other hand, however at his
commencement he appeared to adopt certain resem-
bling phrases, confined his idea of spiritual consola-
tion to sensation alone. He protested against resting
the hope of salvation on any speculative ground; and
he urged on his disciples the pursuit and expectation
of an internal revolution, which was to endue them
with spiritual power over sin, and consequent peace
of conscience. Thus, and thus only, were they to be
assured of the forgiveness of their sins; their practical
preservation from new guilt being, in Mr. Wesley's
judgement, the only certain evidence that their former
guilt was effectually cancelled.
Whatever comparative estimate is to be made of
the two different methods of teaching, one thing seems
probable, that where the two different faculties of im-
passioned feeling and notional apprehension were con-
jointly engaged, the force of the former would be, in
some measure, abated by the intermingled action of
the Iatter, and the consequent emotions would be less
violent than where the discourse was directed solely
to the feelings.
It appears indisputable that a certain fuel of re-
ligious sensation is deeply lodged in man's natural
constitution. It may not be equal, even originally,
in all; but, as a native property, it seems never to be
wholly wanting. It is, of course, variously modified
by education; and is liable to be repressed, if not de-
stroyed, by worldly engagements, and the multiplied
seductions of common life. It is, accordingly, most
observable in early years; though it may be hoped
that, in numberless instances, it grows with growth,
and making alliance with reason, through the con-
current blessing of Heaven, goes on through life,
adding animation to principle, and giving wing to
II H 2
468 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
devotion. Considered, however, merely as a natural
instinct, it is most likely to retain its original sim-
plicity without improvement, yet still without abate-
ment, in the least cultivated classes of society; and in
these, particularly, it may be expected to show itself
in those mixed emotions of mental and animal nature
which are conjointly excitable by any strong impres-
sion on the imagination, or on the senses. It would
seem that, however barbarous the habits, or incon-
siderate the conduct, this moral tinder of the soul
may remain in unsuspected readiness to rise into a
flame, when such a lighted match is applied to it as
was peculiarly exemplified in the instance of John
Wesley. 3.
I need say nothing of the dangers to which this
process was exposed, or of the excesses which, in the
case before us, it actually involved; but I doubt if, in
point of fact, religious emotions were ever before, in
modern times, so widely extended through the rude
multitude as by Mr. Wesley's labours. And yet I
must express my conviction, that this result owed
nothing to premeditated adaptation. Mr. Wesley,
beyond doubt, deemed himself specially called to
“preach the Gospel to the poor;” yet it was only by
terse simplicity of diction, and lucid arrangement of
matter, that he sought to accommodate himself to his
illiterate hearers. The views which he pressed upon
them, and the solicitude he wished to excite in them,
were strictly those of his own mind and heart. His
own religious conceptions were simply affectionate
and practical; and he honestly thought that he could
do nothing better for others, than by bringing them
to the same frame of mind of which he himself was
conscious.
It is also to be remarked, that when Mr. Wesley
formed a Society, he proceeded exactly on the same
principle of sensible excitement which characterised
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 469
his public addresses; and, accordingly, from its origin
to the death of its founder, Wesleyan Methodism was
no other than an apparatus for cherishing and deep-
ening religious sensation. And though Mr. Wesley's
commencing ardours were soon in some measure cor-
rected, he retained to the last the same Supreme and,
in some sort, exclusive solicitude for maintaining in
his disciples those affections and tempers in which,
from the first, with a singular independence on doc-
trinal theory, he had placed the essence of genuine
and vital religion. .
When Mr. Wesley entered on his course, he neither
understood the energies he was exerting, nor the
effects he was producing. He was not aware of the
aptitude of his addresses to work upon the natural
feelings of the human mind; nor had he a just notion
of that inflammability which he seemed earnest to
raise to a conflagration. He therefore did not duly
estimate the too probable fallacy of those emotions,
whose very violence seemed to portend their speedy
termination; nor fully apprehend the danger that,
where there was constitutional unsoundness of mind,
the result might be, not piety, but insanity. Pro-
bably, what he soon witnessed in both respects had
its share in bringing him to less sanguine reckonings,
and a more temperate style of exhortation.
From this important amendment it followed that
the natural attractiveness of Mr. Wesley's radical
principles came more fully into operation. His ad-
dresses were directed as much as ever to the innate
sensibilities of the soul, but far less to the natural
dread of misery, and, in fact, prevalently to the natu-
ral desire of happiness. Regarding this inextinguish-
able appetite of the inner man as no other than an
instinctive propension toward the supreme good, he
made it his object to urge vital Christianity as that
Divine provision in which alone this ceaseless craving
H. H. 3
470 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
of the heart could find satisfaction and repose. I am
far from meaning to say that this central character
of John Wesley's teaching was not obscured by many
of its accompaniments; but such assuredly was the
point at which he sincerely and uniformly aimed: and
I must add, that I have always considered his cordial
pursuance of this course as constituting, above every
other discernible circumstance, the remarkable mag-
netism by which both his public and more private
labours were so lastingly distinguished.
However impressive Mr. Whitefield might have
been in his manner, or however popular in his elocu-
tion, his discourses had no tendency whatever to
excite the same natural interest in the minds of his
hearers. The Calvinistic principles which he had
embraced, made him contemplate mankind as under
a universal curse, and condemned to everlasting
misery; and as having no means of escape but
through accepting those offers of Divine mercy which
he deemed himself commissioned, as a minister of the
Gospel, to proclaim. He, doubtless, urged the neces-
sity of Divine grace, both to produce that faith in
God's mercy through Christ, on which he insisted,
and to create a disposition to obey the Divine com-
mandments. But notwithstanding this honest concern
for the moral purposes of the Gospel, the benefit
which he propounded, was much rather escape from
misery, than acquisition of positive happiness. Nor
was the misery on which he chiefly dwelt of that
moral kind, for the reality of which an appeal might
be made to the inward feelings of every rational man;
but it was rather such a misery as, itself, depended
little less on doctrinal belief than the propounded
remedy. The universal corruption flowing from the
first transgression, he doubtless took for granted and
assented to; but it was the imputation of that trans-
gression to every descendant of Adam which, in Mr.
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. - 471
Whitefield's view, constituted the height of human
wretchedness; and, by parity of reason, the imputed
righteousness of the Redeemer appeared to him the
primary blessing of the Gospel. In fact, he conceived
that in this one blessing every other was insured, for
time and for eternity. -
It is likely that Mr. Wesley was not at first fully
aware of the dissonance between Mr. Whitefield's doc-
trines and his own. He saw what he regarded as
most desirable results; and he would therefore be
less disposed to animadvert even on what might have
appeared to him verbal improprieties or speculative
exaggerations. Besides, it was only when he began
to correct his own excesses that he would have been
disposed to notice those of his fellow-labourer, whose
differences, as I said, were less substantial until after
his second visit to America. The impression then
made on Mr. Wesley by Mr. Whitefield's predestina-
rian zeal, not only led him to condemn, in that re-
spect, the preaching of his colleague, but probably
served to incline him to a more decided adoption of
that attractive method which, henceforth at least,
formed the distinguishing character of his exhorta-
tions. **
Contemplating, probably more than ever (from that
controversy), the infinite philanthropy of God, he be-
came more than ever directly intent on the happiness
for which such a creature as man must have been
destined by such a Creator. He accordingly gave
himself to what was, in truth, the native propension
of his mind; and, like Dryden's priest, - -
* He taught the Gospel, rather than the Law ;
He forced himself to drive, but lov'd to draw:
For fear but freezes minds; but love, like heat,
Exhorts the soul sublime to seek her native seat.”
Mr. Whitefield himself was not more convinced of
the moral morbidness of man's natural state, nor
H H 4
472 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
urged with greater earnestness the necessity of super-
natural grace, to deliver the soul from its native and
too generally deepened enthralment, and to reanimate
it with a new and heavenly life. But Mr. Wesley
mingled with these truths nothing which was to be
taken on trust; nor, in fact, urged any thing which
he did not think was, or ought to be, matter of actual
experience. -
I must also remark, that while thus averse from
the gloom of the Calvinist, Mr. Wesley stood little
less aloof from the haze of the mystic. He conceived,
not that the conscious spirit of man was to be lost,
and, as it were, annihilated in the immensity of God,
but that it was to be so united to Him in love as to
be not less rationally than morally satisfied with His
infinite fulness. It was, in truth, this moral enjoy-
ment of God, and the moral assimilation essential to
such beatitude, which held the supreme place in all
Mr. Wesley's aspirations for others, or for himself;
and while I freely acknowledge the nebulous accom-
paniments of his brightest radiations, I cannot but
attach inexpressible value and importance to such a
testimony, from such a personage.
I already remarked that Mr. Wesley had been
originally trained in the school of our most illustrious
Church-of-England divines ; and doubtless it was
from them that he imbibed those pure principles of
Christian morality which subsequent impressions, for
a time, might have somewhat concealed, but would in
no wise impair, and which, as if from their own in-
trinsic force, so very soon regained their due ascen-
dency in his own breast, and in all his public
addresses.
That this rationality of religion should so signally
keep its hold, through such seemingly contrarious
movements, and amid so many hostile influences, is
probably as strong an exemplification of its own
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 473
essential soundness as human experience could afford.
The fact was, that this paramount principle had, in
the first instance, attracted the heart of John Wesley;
and as the strength of his moral nature lay there, far
more than in his understanding or his imagination,
the enshrined treasure was both too solid in itself,
and too firmly fixed, to be either injured or disturbed
by the errors of the one or the illusions of the other.
The consequence has been, that by whatever im-
perfections or hallucinations his writings may be ble-
mished, the most genuine elements of pure and unde-
filed religion are to be found in them, not only in an
easily separable form, but, as it has appeared to me,
when separated and systematised, possessing a con-
sistency and plenitude of practical Christian truth,
not, as far as I know, equally furnished by any other
modern writer. The same principles have, I confess,
been repeatedly maintained. They are (as I have
intimated above, and more than once ventured to
assert,) in substance those of our most celebrated
Church-of-England divines. But in these latter there
is generally some questionable admixture, which
either obscures the brightness or abates the energy
of the truths which they are solicitous to maintain.
If the dogmas of Calvin are ever so completely re-
jected, there is seldom an equal exemption from the
opposite excesses of Pelagius in earlier, or of Epis-
copius in later times. It would appear, perhaps, to
have been reserved for John Wesley to draw a strictly
definitive line between the One class of misconceptions
and the other. -
The desideratum, I should think, was a precise
distinction between the supposed irresistibility of
Divine grace, maintained by Augustin and Calvin,
and that effective energy which is so clearly asserted
throughout the New Testament, and so evidently
accordant to man's moral exigencies. This latter, it
474 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
was far from the purpose of the excellent writers
whom I have in view to dispute. Doubtless they
regarded the assurance of Divine influence as a most
consolatory feature in the Christian dispensation, and
have spoken largely of the grace of God as certainly
co-operating with all sincere efforts of self-correction.
But in comparatively few instances (though, happily,
such are to be named,) have they adverted explicitly
to those cheering and strengthening communications
which are to be obtained by fervent prayer; and by
which, when consciously felt, the devout person may
know, not enthusiastically, but with moral certainty,
that he has not prayed in vain. It was their dwelling
so much on internal consolations which gave their
chief charm to Calvinistic authors, in so many serious
minds. In John Wesley's scheme of practical re-
ligion — I will not say for the very first time, but, I
am inclined to think, in a degree and manner not
equalled before—the same demand of the heart is pro-
vided for, on principles not less consonant to Sound
philosophy than to sacred Scripture; nor to the feel-
ings of human nature, than to the solicitudes of
awakened conscience.
This remarkable separation of Christian and catholic
truth from dogmatical envelopments, appears to me
as at least one great object of John Wesley's provi-
dential mission. Though he himself had uniformly
rejected the peculiarities of Calvin, he for a time was
imbued with the doctrines of Luther, on those points
in which especially the German and Swiss reformers
were agreed: but Mr. Wesley came at length to see,
that the view of justification maintained by the one,
was as unessential, as that of predestination, contended
for by the other, was inadmissible. Being thus
liberated from all fetters of mere human theology,
he delighted to contemplate practical Christianity as
consisting solely of powerful principles and purified
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 475
affections; while, by his exact and cordial retention
of every Catholic verity, no shadow of risk was in-
curred, that those principles should want adequate"
sustenance, or those affections be without the means
of safe and genuine devotional elevation.
Such a service, therefore, to the cause of Christian
faith and piety, as I already intimated, I must
regard as inestimable. In Christianity thus repre-
sented, there is nothing whatever to perplex the
weak, to afford matter of cavil to the sceptic, or of
apparent triumph to the infidel. Whatever mysteries
may be necessarily inherent in the comprehensiveness
of the Christian dispensation, nothing, in John Wes-
ley's view, is demanded from our understandings, or
our hearts, but what corresponds to our moral cir-
cumstances, and is conducive to our moral happiness.
It is, in a word, the strict proportion (as it seems to
me, without excess or defect,) of the provisions of
Christianity to man's exigencies and capacities, as
an intelligent and immortal, but diseased and cor-
rupted creature, that I so much admire in my old
friend's most matured theology. • -
Still, however, it is not merely, or even chiefly, to
the matter of this testimony that I attach the im-
portance of John Wesley's providential agency. The
same discriminative line which he drew in his later
scheme of doctrine, had been drawn by some before
him, as I have intimated, however few in number.
But there was nothing in the case of those wise and
excellent persons to make the temperament which
they maintained a matter of necessary impressive-
ness, and of wide and lasting notoriety ; whereas, in
the instance of Mr. Wesley, these results appear to
have been as infallibly secured as was possible in
the course of human events.
His commencing ardour (and, indeed, the whole
career of his subsequent life,) could not fail to draw
476. REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
*
upon him the charge of enthusiastic zeal from the
astonished public ; while, from the fact of his first
labours as a field and street preacher being in close
conjunction with those of Mr. Whitefield, it was
natural to conclude that Mr. Wesley was as much
agreed with his colleague in theological principles as
in the singularity of their joint exertions.
It must therefore, I conceive, have excited un-
speakable surprise that the Calvinism of Mr. White-
field should have found in his devoted fellow-labourer
an equally determined and powerful antagonist.
From no other quarter, assuredly, could so singular
a promulgation of that gloomy and repulsive scheme
have met so opportune and efficient an opposition :
nor was it possible that so weighty a protest could
be made against it, as by one who was as zealous as
Mr. Whitefield himself in pursuing the conversion of
his fellow-creatures; and whose success in that pur-
suit was at least as signal, and evidently much more
extensive.
It had been in its supposed connection with exactly
such results, that probably the chief practical strength
of Calvinism consisted. It had been the persuasion
of its disciples, that their peculiar principles were
those alone by which the stubborn heart of man could
be effectually subdued, and brought unreservedly to
submit itself to the grace of the Gospel. This pre-
possession was not to be confuted by mere argument.
As long as it kept its footing, the question could not
be regarded as theoretical, but as affecting the great
concern of Salvation. How, then, was such a rooted
prejudice to be dislodged, except by such a force as
John Wesley, above all who before had made a like
attack, was qualified to bring against it He could
foil its champions with their own weapons, and com-
bat them on their own ground ; since the facts sub-
stantiated in the course of his labours afforded irre-
CHARACTER OF JOHN weSLEY. 477
fragable evidence that what had been looked for, from
Calvinistic doctrines alone, could be as fully attained,
not only where those doctrines were omitted, but
where they were opposed and rejected.
The dogmas of Luther, and the more deeply con-
structed theories of Calvin, had probably been per-
mitted to connect themselves with the pure doctrines
of the Gospel, in order the better to accommodate
those doctrines to the apprehension of obscure and
narrow minds; just as Christianity itself, in its whole
external exhibition, had been permitted to assume a
corporeal character, and to merge into a sort of re-
newed Judaism, as if in condescension to the gross
perceptions and barbarous habits of the Northern
invaders, and their long-uncultivated posterity. But
it was not unreasonable to expect, that when a fit
time should arrive, providential means would be
afforded for disencumbering evangelical faith and
piety of their metaphysical, no less than of their phy-
sical envelopments. Am I then very extravagant
in supposing that as Luther seems to have been
raised in Germany, three hundred years ago, for the
purpose of commencing that earlier service; so John
Wesley may, in like manner, have been an instrument
of Providence, employed at the proper season, and
under most wisely-adjusted circumstances, for sever-
ing, by successive strokes, the strongest ligatures of
the metaphysical veil, in order that our holy religion
might at length be contemplated in all its unblemished
and undisguised loveliness 2
From the first softening of Mr. Wesley's tone, he
cannot be charged with relapsing into his commencing
severity. Yet it was not until after six-and-twenty
years that, as it should seem, in somewhat of a revo-
lutionary way, he threw off all the trammels of dog-
matical theology, and rose to that cloudless expansion
of Christian liberality from which he never afterward
478 IREMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
consciously receded. I more particularly advert to
the crisis in Mr. Wesley's course which thus finally
settled his theological creed, because it may possibly
have escaped Mr. Southey's special notice; and yet,
when led to revert to it, he may deem it not unworthy
of his attention. I copy the passage verbatim from
his Journal.
“December 1. (1767). Being alone in the coach,
I was considering several points of importance; and
thus much appeared clear as the day.
“That a man may be saved who cannot express
himself properly concerning imputed righteousness;
therefore to do this is not necessary to salvation.
“That a man may be saved who has not clear con-
ceptions of it, yea, that never heard the phrase;
therefore clear conceptions of it are not necessary to
salvation; yea, it is not necessary to use the phrase
at all.
“That a pious Churchman, who has not clear con-
ceptions even of justification by faith, may be saved ;
therefore clear conceptions even of this are not neces
sary to salvation.
“That a mystic, who denies justification by faith
(Mr. Law, for instance), may be saved. But if so,
what becomes of Articulus stantis vel cadentis Eccle-
siae 2 If so, is it not high time for us—
Projicere ampullas, et sesquipedalia verba.
And to return to the plain word, He that feareth God
and worketh righteousness is accepted with Him.”
I have transcribed the whole of this remarkable
record, as it so distinctly marks the course of thought
through which Mr. Wesley arrived at a conclusion,
not more satisfactory at the time to his understanding,
than ever afterward predominant in his preaching and
writing. Its most signal result was that of the cele-
brated Minutes of Conference, in 1770, which power-
fully proved that Mr. Wesley's enlarged views tended
CHIARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 479
as much to increase the exactness of his practical prin-
ciples, as to enlarge the range of his Christian philan-
thropy. The assistance which he received in the
warfare, excited by the frank disclosure of his views,
from his wonderful auxiliary Mr. Fletcher, certainly
appeared to himself, and doubtless to many besides
him, as the very stamp and signature of Divine Pro-
vidence on the course which he had seen it his duty to
pursue. By the extraordinary aid thus afforded him,
he was, if that were possible, more than ever confirmed
in the conclusions he had formed; and, in fact, such
additional light was thrown upon his path as pre-
cluded all liability to subsequent vacillation.
From this conjoint testimony against Calvinistic
excesses, an effect of some importance seems already
to have arisen in what is called the religious world.
The class which accounts itself evangelical has, for
Some length of time, generally shrunk back from ex-
plicitly propounding the more revolting features of
their system; and most of those persons seem ashamed
to admit what, nevertheless, their received system
does not allow them to deny. While they maintain
the sovereign exercise of distinguishing grace in all
who are saved, they seem desirous to shut their eyes
against the equally sovereign dereliction of all besides.
But this is a point at which common sense cannot long
suffer them to stop, and the speculative antinomianism
which begins to prevail among warmer dogmatists will
probably compel their more sober brethren to trace to
the true cause those evils which, however sincerely
deplored by them, they must at length discover to be
invincible on Calvinistic principles. When upright
Christians become convinced of this fact, they will
not be long in determining whether they are to
relinquish Calvinism or practical Christianity.
For such a conjuncture, I cannot conceive a more
suitable provision than that which has been furnished
480 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
by the joint labours of Messrs. Wesley and Fletcher.
To the zealous Calvinists of their own days they were
no doubt very obnoxious: but their personal charac-
ters, which some continued to revere even in the heat
of theological contest, seem to be held, by later evan-
gelics, in high estimation. Hence their doctrines will
more readily engage the attention of such persons, in
proportion as they become suspicious of their own.
Whether something of this kind may not have been
proceeding already in many individual minds, I can-
not venture to decide; but neither can I account it
by any means improbable.
Certain it is, that the present soi-disant evangelic
system having itself grown out of Mr. Whitefield's
Methodism, is still, in spite of doctrinal differences, a
species of the same genus with the Methodism of Mr.
Wesley; and hence it follows, that, in a remarkable
manner, the extraordinary movement distinguished
by that general appellation has had within itself a
twofold provision;–one, for reviving the very same
religious spirit which had so powerfully operated in
England a hundred years before ; the other, for
opposing to that spirit a corrective and, in some
sort, antagonistic principle, fitted the more to its
specific purpose by possessing so much of apparent
congeniality. -
How much the entire apparatus has served to rouse
the religious feelings of the British public, is at this
day matter of notoriety, not to England only, but to
every observant portion of Europe and of the world.
When, therefore, it is considered, in the light of former
events, to what hazards the rational and moral cha-
racter of our holy religion might have been exposed,
through the unrestrained ascendency of Calvinistic
theology, I conceive it must appear, to serious and
unbiassed minds, as an admirable order of Providence,
that a counterpoise to that ascendency, so propor-
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 481
tioned to the occasion, and notwithstanding its cir-
cumstantial blemishes, so possessed of intrinsic excel.
lence, should have been concurrently afforded.
In thus estimating the importance of John Wesley's
services, I think I see much reason why the particular
course which he pursued, marked as it was with
strange peculiarities, should have been providentially
permitted. Had, as I before observed, his prudence
been greater, or his ardour less, he would not have
accomplished the same work, nor risen to the same
eminence. Yet, had he been less distinguished in
these respects, there would have been a proportional
want of force in that anti-Calvinistic testimony, the
braving of which, as he actually bore it, seems to have
been his peculiar destination, it might almost be said,
from his very birth, there being even in his parentage
and earliest training a concurrence of circumstances
singularly fitted to predispose him for such an ultimate
purpose. -
I must once more observe, that in thus appreciating
the happier features of Mr. Wesley's character, I
always have before me those exceptionable concomi-
tants, which, though no longer urged by him, were
never substantially relinquished. I will mention two,
which have appeared to me the most material.
The first is, his notion of the witness of the Spirit;
for which, however, he has produced but one single
verse of the Epistle to the Romans (viii. 16.), the con-
struction of which he has really, though, I am certain,
unconsciously, forced to his purpose.* At the same
* Mr. Wesley, in commenting on Romans, viii. 16., ventures to assert
that the preposition at v in the compounded verb avppaptupsi merely
denotes sameness of time; and he accordingly translates Tø Tveipuart
jiptºv, not as in our authorised version, with, but to, our spirit. But
had he allowed himself to examine those other numerous instances in
which the same preposition similarly occurs, he would at least have
found the balance so clearly against him, as to discountenance his change
of translation. -
VOIL. II. I I
482 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
time, he propounds his sentiment with diffidence,
probably because, as appears from Mr. Whitefield's
letter already referred to, it was not supported by his
own actual feeling. His words are: “Perhaps one
might say (desiring any who are taught of God to
correct, to soften, or strengthen the expression,) the
testimony of the Spirit is an inward impression on
the soul, whereby the Spirit of God directly witnesses
to my spirit that I am a child of God.”
It has always been my persuasion, that, by admit-
ting this definition of the popropio, v šourº, which
the faithful Christian is encouraged to expect, Mr.
Wesley opened a door for self-delusion, and even for
practical deficiency, against which his utmost moral
zeal could afford no adequate security. It was, I think,
one of the strongest instances of his limited perception,
not to see that there was no criterion by which such
“an inward impression on the soul” could be infallibly
proved, even to its possessor, to come “directly” from
the Spirit of God; and that no impressions on the
soul, except those which are essentially moral, can,
with either certainty or sobriety, be ascribed to that
adorable agency, the moral part of our nature being
that alone with the laws of which we can become
competently acquainted.
No part of Mr. Wesley's doctrine, however, seems
to have been more acceptable to his own people than
what they called “the direct witness of the Spirit;”
and, probably, he rather learned it from them, than
they from him. His own internal feelings, it has ap-
peared, did not urge him to insist on it; but if any
number of his disciples concurred in asserting that
such an impression had been made on their minds,
that it continued with them, and formed the chief
source of their spiritual happiness, it was just such a
testimony, both in matter and manner, as John Wes.
ley was ever prone to receive; and thus, I imagine, he
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 483
was early induced to adopt what, even when most
advanced in sober judgement, he might consider too
closely connected with the spiritual comfort of num-
bers (on whom, perhaps, among his followers, he
placed the highest value,) to admit of being safely
questioned.
That which most surprises me, is, that he did not
discover the tendency of such a notion to impede that
moral progress, for which he was chiefly solicitous. It
was obvious, that as long as any person supposed him-
self to possess this testimony from the Holy Spirit, he
would account himself secure of salvation; and yet
the feeling thus relied upon, being not of a moral, but
strictly of a sensitive nature, it might seem to remain,
in spite of very real moral declension; which, however,
would naturally be less attended to, while evidence of
spiritual safety was thought to be still afforded from
an infallible quarter, Had Mr. Wesley ventured to
examine into this fact, I suspect he would have been
obliged, on his own moral principles, to doubt at least
the soundness of his confidence in that supposed as-
surance. But the truth is, that such a summary way
of obtaining spiritual peace and consolation was pecu-
liarly suitable to such sensitive minds as those with
whom he was principally concerned, and his influence
upon whom might have been in every way more
limited, had he been less credulous respecting such in-
ward persuasions. It is remarkable that, to this hour,
the “direct witness of the Spirit” is as much as ever
maintained by the Wesleyan Methodists, while they
seem very little disposed to insist upon those more
enlarged views which I have supposed to give in-
creased interest to Mr. Wesley's later labours.
The other uncorrected notion to which I referred,
was, as it seemed to me, an inexplicable confusion
in his view of the manner in which faith is conducive
to spiritual salvation. While he did not fail to describe
I I 2
484 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
faith (in accordance with the best divines) as a grace
of God's Holy Spirit, which enables us to apprehend
spiritual and eternal things with practical interest
and predominant affection, he nevertheless taught
that, by an easertion of faith, a mourning penitent
might as it were transport himself into a state of
mental peace and comfort; and an imperfect Christian,
combating with his corruption, advance himself, in
like manner, to spiritual victory and settled rest.
More than forty years ago, my persuasion of the
delusive tendency of this doctrine induced me to offer
my thoughts to Mr. Wesley on the subject. But
though I received from him two letters in reply, I
could only conclude that he felt himself in a mist,
from which he had no power of emerging. He did
not deny that his view involved difficulty, but looked
for its solution only in another world.
Mr. Wesley most probably derived his opinion
respecting the effective exertion of faith from the
Lutheran system, to which, for a time, he was at-
tached. The Augsburg Confession says that men
are justified “coram Deo cum credunt se ingratiam
recipi et peccata remitti propter Christum, qui suá
morte pro nostris peccatis satisfecit;” and it so hap-
pened that in one particular sentence, the Homily of
Salvation appeared to favour that definition, by
describing the true faith of a Christian as a “sure
trust and confidence in God, that by the merits of
Christ his sins are forgiven, and he reconciled to the
favour of God.” Accordingly, of these latter words
John Wesley took special hold, and for many years
quoted them on all occasions, as expressing the exact
doctrine on which he then insisted. At length he
became less fond of them; and after his honestly-
avowed “return to the plain word,” probably never
once repeated them. - .
When, however, he was under the full influence of
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 485
that Lutheran dogma, it was a natural result in so ar-
dent a mind, that he should urge his penitent disciples
to exert a “trust and confidence,” on which immediate
acceptance with God was thought to depend. So
long as he imagined that the two states of Divine
wrath and Divine favour were separated as if by a
mathematical line, and that the transit from one to
the other was to be effected by some sort of mental
effort, it followed of course that he should exhort to
the making of that effort; nor could he have consist-
ently ceased from this endeavour, until he became
persuaded that there was really no such marked
transition, as he had supposed, from a state of con-
demnation to a state of favour: but that “whosoever
feared God and wrought righteousness according to
his providental light, was at that very moment in a
state of acceptance,” and consequently that “the
wrath of God” no longer abode upon him. w
It might indeed seem strange, that when Mr.
Wesley went so far, he did not still go farther, and
wholly relinquish the notion of that exertion of faith,
for which, on his more enlarged principle, there was
no longer the same necessity, nor, strictly, the same
room. But the progress of his understanding was
not proportioned to the expansion of his heart; and
instantaneous transitions had entered so deeply into
the religious views of his people, that his mere con-
cern for their spiritual safety might have inspired a
dread of admitting, even in his own mind, that such
transitions were unimportant. What, therefore, he
had once insisted on, as the means of passing from a
state of wrath to a state of acceptance, he still con-
tinued to represent, but certainly with much less
intensity, as the best method of advancing from a
lower to a higher degree in the spiritual life, or, as
he himself termed it, (I should think not in all respects
improperly,) from the condition of a servant of God
I I 3
486 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
to that of a child of God; in other words, from the
state of obeying God sincerely and conscientiously, to
that of supreme pleasure and delight in His service.
Thus it was, that in softening the severity of his
former doctrine (without a shade of conscious dupli-
city), he gave no actual disturbance to the prepos-
sessions of his people. They, on the other hand,
expressed no dissatisfaction with his liberalised prin-
ciples, which probably they did not entirely under-
stand; and they exulted in the triumphs obtained
for him over his Calvinistic adversaries by his dis-
tinguished auxiliary: but their habits of mind under-
went no change; the internal peculiarities of the
system, with all their practical consequences, remain-
ing substantially what they had been from the
beginning.
Of these peculiarities the persuasion that spiritual
blessings are to be obtained by a “sure trust and
confidence” in their actual and immediate communi-
cation, seems not the least likely to involve danger
of illusion and instability. This opinion, therefore,
and that respecting “the direct witness of the Holy
Spirit,” I have always been inclined to consider as
the two most exceptionable points in the theology of
Wesleyan Methodists; which, though they have not,
in “honest and good hearts,” prevented the sincerity
of Christian piety, could not but materially obstruct
its rationality and solidity; while it can hardly be
doubted that the evanescence of religious ardour, for
the frequency of which Wesleyan Methodism seems
to have been remarkable, even as compared with
similar bodies, has peculiarly arisen from the im-
portance attached to instantaneous impressions and
equivocal emotions.
. Here, however, I venture to repeat the observation,
that the providential purposes of Wesleyan Methodism
might not have been equally provided for, had the
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 487
system been less imperfect. Being, as I have re-
marked, a scheme, not of doctrinal theory, but of
devotional excitement, and apparently designed to
make its way among those who had little other than
animal sensibilities, even the two notions last ad-
verted to, exceptionable as they are in themselves,
might nevertheless have been necessary to its des-
tined operation. It is obvious that sensitive minds
could be engaged only by impressions suited to their
gross apprehensions; and therefore, if it was the will
of Providence that a practical attention to religion
should be strongly and widely excited in that very
class of minds, might it not be indispensable that
more palpable conceptions of the object should supply
the place of intellectual and moral discernment
I confess I am the more disposed to admit the idea
of such providential accommodations, from a long
received conviction that the Christian dispensation,
though perfectly and immutably defined in the New
Testament, yet in its actual development, was intended
to be progressive, and for that reason, in its various
and successive movements was left, as it were, to
modify itself to existing capacities and the specific
exigencies of the occasion. That human society is
itself progressive, in all that relates to the comfort
and enjoyment of this mortal life, cannot be doubted;
and if the exercise of intellect has not intrinsically
improved, its field of action has been widely extended;
and intellectual activity having, for the three last
centuries particularly, advanced more and more, now
rolls onward as if with the force of a torrent. That
the operative energies of Christianity, that last and
best gift to man, and his appropriate endowment for
immortality, should likewise manifest in some way
an adaptation to the general course of human circum-
stances, would be a matter of obvious probability, if
even the persuasion were not warranted by express
I I 4
488 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
and infallible notifications of the principles actually
proceeded upon in the great economy of salvation.
Of the nature of those principles we have certain
evidence, and full exemplification, in the profoundly
ordered succession of the three dispensations, Patri-
archal, Mosaic, and Christian. We cannot doubt that
this arrangement was exactly proportioned to the
advancing capabilities of human society, and that the
Christian revelation was delayed merely because what
St. Paul has called to Taºpaipºo. Toà Xpóvow” had not yet
arrived. And yet, while (notwithstanding our short-
sightedness) we see many powerful reasons why that
particular time should have been chosen, the event
has shown that it was a suitable season only for the
introduction of Christianity, but by no means for its
being adequately estimated, or at once simply and
extensively received. In this obvious disproportion,
then, between the excellency of the dispensation, and
the receptive capacity of the world, what could be
more reasonable than that the All-wise Disposer,
with sufficient care for the perfect promulgation of
evangelical truth, and its perpetual enshrinement in
the sacred volume, should, in proceeding with his
comprehensive design, employ, through his provi-
dence, the same method of adaptation, which in
strictly analogous circumstances he had been pleased
expressly to order. I have presumed already thus
to account for the early relapse into ceremonial
religion, and the later, though scarcely less strange,
adoption of irrespective predestination; but I cannot
help thinking that all the anomalous movements in
the Christian Church, from the secession of the
Albigenses or Paulicians (perhaps I might include
the heresies of earlier times) down to the present day,
are resolvable, more or less directly, into the same
* Galatians, iv. 4.
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 489
mysterious order; and that while all that was excep-
tionable in them occurred by the Divine permissiºn,
all that was useful in them must have come from
Him of whom it is declared, “the good which is done
in the earth, he doth it himself.”
I should not think myself warranted thus to specu-
late on the most important of all subjects, were it not
expressly declared in the New Testament that the
scheme of redemption has a farther purpose than
merely that of the salvation of man. This farther
purpose is distinctly stated by St. Paul, in his Epistle
to the Ephesians (iii. 10.): "Ivo, Yvaptaff vºv to is doxoſis
xod to is #3000 ions v Tois àroupovious 61& Tàg 3xxxno ſo.g
3) Toxotroix17,0g a obſo, Toij 0soú.* These words, I con-
ceive, open a view of equal extent and grandeur, and
are, in fact, replete with most valuable information.
The slow procedure, as it seems to us, for which it
might be hard to assign a reason, were the design
bounded to this earth, is fully accounted for by the
notification of such an ulterior object. The institu-
tion of angels in so sublime a science may with reason
be concluded to require a proportioned apparatus.
They had seen the exercise of the Divine power at
that time, “when the morning stars sang together,
and all the sons of God shouted for joy.” But in
order to instruct them in “the manifold wisdom of
God,” another kind of process was indispensable, in
which, not matter, but mind, should be the subject of
operation. And whatever might be the power of God
over mind, the most effective exertion of that attri-
* Eph. iii. 10. “To the intent that now unto the principalities and
powers in heavenly places might be known by the Church the manifold
wisdom of God.” It is remarkable that Chrysostom, in the preface to
his comment on this epistle, says, that St. Paul speaks of matters here
which he scarcely mentions elsewhere, and quotes this verse as one of
the instances. It also deserves notice, that St. Ignatius, in his Epistle
to the Church at Ephesus, calls the Ephesian Christians the avppºrra,
of St. Paul.
490 REMLARKS ON THE LIFE AND
bute would not have answered the end in view ; inas-
much as wisdom can be manifested only in the effi-
cient guidance of free agency to a destined point,
without any actual violation of its freedom. If this
rule be not observed, it is force, not wisdom, which
accomplishes the result.
As the power of God was displayed in the creation
of the world, and the mechanical skill then exercised
is illustrated by the undeviating regularity of visible
nature, so does the wisdom of God, though less
urgently, yet not less really, invite our observation
in the profoundly concatenated order of Providence.
If not “a sparrow falls” without the cognizance of the
All-seeing Eye, in eventful movements there can have
been no absolute contingency; but human passions, in
themselves morally imputable only to the subject of
them, in their effluence have necessarily come under
the control of Providence, and have, in all instances,
been so directed as to subserve the purposes of the
Supreme Disposer. Thus it is said (Psalm lxxvi. 10.),
“The wrath of man shall praise thee, and the remain-
der of wrath shalt thou restrain.” And thus we are
told (Proverbs, xxi. 1.), “The king's heart is in the
hand of the Lord, as the rivers of water: he turneth
it whithersoever he will.” -
In the earlier period of the world, the great object
was, gradually to prepare both Jews and Gentiles for
the advent of the Messiah. We learn from the Old
Testament what mysterious methods of training were
used in the case of the Jews; and the prophecies of
Daniel give decisive evidence that the chief political
vicissitudes of the Gentile nations held each its pro-
portioned place in the same prospective design. And
if the revolutions of empires, so, by parity of reason,
the progress of civilisation, the advancement of arts
and sciences, and the extended light of moral philoso-
phy, must have been under the same direction, subor-
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 491
dinately to the one supreme purpose. But no pre-
paratory measure is more remarkable than that,
through the dispersion of so many Jews, the Old Tes-
tament should be more or less known, synagogues
erected, and proselytes made, in most principal cities;
and that thus, notwithstanding the perverseness and
prejudices with which the Jews at that time seem to
have been peculiarly chargeable, they were used as
precursive missionaries with unspeakable advantage
to the first promulgation of the Gospel. -
If then the “wisdom of God” was thus exercised
in gradually accomplishing the Taipopo. Tot 2:26vov, at
once providing the richest blessings for mankind, and
as it were elaborately preparing mankind for its re-
ception, we could not doubt, on mere grounds of rea-
son, that the dispensation so introduced would be
conducted with equally minute attention, and its pur-
poses effected by the continued employment of equally
apt and skilful expedients. But this fact is so fully
established by the single text which has been quoted,
as only to require our examination of the conduct of
Providence respecting the Christian Church, in order
that we may discover something, at least, of the man-
ner in which those brief but significant words have
hitherto had their fulfilment. -
The Church is represented as the great object of
contemplation, because the wisdom of God is to have
its chief evidence in the eventual attainment of the
ends for which the Christian Church was established.
But in that supreme regard, an attention to all event-
ful movements on this earth must be included ; be-
cause, as all such movements, in more ancient times,
were permitted and over-ruled subserviently to the
dispensation which was approaching, so, that dispen-
sation having come, and being destined to advance
progressively to a certain height of efficiency, all the
great movements of the modern world must be equally
492 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
and similarly permitted and over-ruled, in subservience
to the same design, now actually realised, and more
and more advancing towards its consummation.
And yet it would seem that there is a peculiar pro-
priety in representing “the Church” as the special
sphere of the Divine wisdom. For however wisely,
in time and measure, secular commotions and “the
wrath of man” may be made subservient to the Divine
purposes, the passions of pride, ambition, and cupidity
are so prevalent, and in such constant readiness, that
they need only the removal of restraints, and the
favour of circumstances, to insure their eruption ; and
then (if it may be said with due reverence) Provi-
dence has nothing more to do than to direct and over-
rule their course, and to limit their progress. But
in the direct concerns of the Church very different
movements are to be excited, and very different affec-
tions to be set in operation. A moral victory is to
be achieved—a moral transmutation to be effected ;
and that, not by overwhelming energy— not by con-
tinued repetition of miracles, like that on the day of
Pentecost, or that which arrested and subdued St.
Paul, but by the exercise of that divine attribute
which we must regard as, in its very essence, patient,
accommodating, and conciliatory; as carefully im-
proving, but in no wise forcing, circumstances; as
watching, but never anticipating, occasions; as pro-
portioning all its measures to the particular time or
season as really as to the ultimate end; and as diver-
sifying those measures in accordance with new emer-
gencies, or such increased capability as admits of or
calls for a more effective procedure. Such, I conceive,
are the ideas necessarily suggested by that limited yet
luminous disclosure; and when we are assured that
the Christian Church is as it were the laboratory in
which this astonishing process is carried on, or rather,
the very subject on which the Divine skill is exerted;
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY, 493
that thereby “the depth of God's wisdom and know-
ledge,” in itself unfathomable, may, in some degree,
be opened to the view of angels, however incapable
we must feel ourselves, in our frail mortality, of
actually participating in their sublime contemplation,
— still we cannot but regard the various phenomena,
whether consecutively or concurrently presented by
the visible Church, with a different interest, and an-
other kind of apprehension, from what we should have,
if we thought we saw nothing but the folly or wicked-
ness of man deforming or abusing the “unspeakable
gift” which, though proceeding from the Divine good-
ness, was supposed to depend for its results merely on
man's free agency.
While the view of over-ruling wisdom which St.
Paul has opened to us preserves this free agency
inviolate, it affords us, as to the future, an infinitely
happier prospect, and enables us to form, as to the
present, a far more correct estimate. The errors of
heresiarchs, and the witnesses of sectaries, are, in
themselves, the same as ever. But, in their influence
On the Church, they appear in a different light, and
are no longer subjects of unmingled regret. In that
sphere where the Divine superintendence regulates
every thing, nothing can happen eventually amiss.
But where the Toxviroix120g a odio. Tot; 0soú is to be
manifested, there must be mysterious permission, in
Order that there may be profound direction; and even
the comprehensive beneficence of the designed result
may indispensably call for this mode of proceeding.
The perfect preservation of the Catholic verities may,
at one time, require a permitted incrustation of un-
couth and fanciful observances; at another time, an
institution the most happily devised for continuity of
right principles, may, from that settled uniformity
which is necessary for its purpose, be exposed to the
occurrence of devotional frigidity, and, by conse-
494 REMARKS ON THE III'E AND
quence, of practical laxity. Hence, in the former
case, it may be indispensable that the accumulation
of gross envelopments should at length be thrown
off by a revolutionary movement; and, in the latter,
that prevailing torpor should be opportunely corrected
by some sort of epidemical excitation, proportioned
to the exigence. In both cases, however, it would
seem to accord best with the great ruling principle,
that the instruments employed should be suffered to
proceed each in its own natural way (the suitableness
of which to the specific purpose might, indeed, be the
motive of choice), and that the defects should be sup-
plied, or the excesses counteracted, by other adequate
provisions, alike illustrative of that exquisite manage-
ment, under which the heavenly spectators must see
the entire scheme advancing more and more to its
destined consummation.
Impossible as it is, that we in our low estate should
make any approach to this clearness of understanding,
the notification must have been made to engage our
attention, and to stimulate our inquiry; and I should
think, that the more closely we examine the history
of the Christian Church, regarding it not as the sub-
ject of God's inscrutable and irresistible sovereignty,
nor as the strangely abandoned victim of men's follies,
frenzies, and worst vices, but as the peculiar and
divinely prepared theatre, where “the manifold wisdom
of God” is to unfold itself to celestial intelligences;
the more, I say, we review the vicissitudes of the
Church as serving this transcendent purpose, and
soberly, yet fairly, pursue the consequences to which
the unquestionable premises lead, the more shall we
be disposed to join with “principalities and powers in
heavenly places,” in admiring (how distant soever
from them in comprehending) the depth, the extent,
and the unity of that wonderful economy, in which
permission of evil has already been so often and so
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 495
amply compensated by achievement of good; and
error, in successive instances, made so signally sub-
servient to the clearer elucidation and advanced
development of pure evangelical truth.
I have taken the liberty of thus expressing my
thoughts on a subject which would demand much
deeper investigation, and which I am persuaded is by
no means new to Mr. Southey, because it seemed to
me that I could not otherwise explain the precise
principles on which I have formed my judgement of
John Wesley's singular character, and still more
singular course; and according to which, I make my
estimate of the results which have arisen, or, as I
conceive, may yet arise from the entire part, earlier
and later, which he was led to act in the religious world.
I now beg leave to add one or two remarks on the
point which was last referred to, namely, Mr. Wesley's
notion of Saving faith.
And here I am bound in candour, not less than by
my esteem for the nobler qualities which prevailed in
Mr. Wesley's mental character, to express my con-
viction, that as in his practical principles generally,
so particularly respecting Faith as a divinely operative
grace in the heart, he never substantially swerved
from the first lessons he had learned, however his
intellectual views might have subsequently suffered
circumstantial obscuration. Long before the doctrine
of Luther had entered his thoughts, he had been
taught by sounder instructors to consider Faith as .
such a mental sense of divine and eternal things, as
engaged the heart, riveted the supreme affections,
and thus governed both inward and outward conduct.
Such a sense he of course believed no man could pro-
duce in himself, by any kind of voluntary exertion;
and he accordingly regarded it strictly as a divine
grace communicated by the Holy Spirit, to those who
honestly exercised whatever measures of inferior
496 REMARKS ON THE I,IFE AND
grace had been already conferred on them. That
this sober and solid view, was theoretically disturbed
by the new lessons which he received from his German
teachers, I fully admit; but before much time had
elapsed, his earlier impressions began to show them-
selves; and their influence on the tone of his
discourses may perhaps be perceived to advance
gradually, until at length it became actually
ascendant. -
At the same time I allow, that for several years
Mr. Wesley spoke on the subject of Faith in a manner
which made it difficult to distinguish his sounder
principles from the questionable positions with which
they were more or less intermingled. It would seem
that, during the time to which I refer, his mind was,
not artfully, but honestly endeavouring to unite the
moral verities, which in his judgement as well as
heart he immutably approved and loved, with those
superinduced doctrines, from which, he conceived, he
himself had derived valuable advantage; and which
he then regarded as essential articles of Evangelical
truth. It is also to be observed, that frequently, when
he was in accordance with the brightest luminaries of
the Church, in the substance of his assertions, his
manner of expression might be such as, even to serious
and candid hearers, would seem to justify a charge of
fanaticism. -
I am not sure whether I may not have already re-
marked, that although Mr. Wesley adopted the phrase
of “Justification by Faith,”— explaining it, however,
as Ihave elsewhere mentioned, in away of his own, his
favourite theme was “Salvation by Faith;” and what
his sense of this expression was, he briefly but clearly
states, when he says, “Salvation by Faith is only, in
other words, the love of God, by the knowledge of
God; or, the recovery of the image of God, by a true
spiritual acquaintance with Him.” Of Faith, as thus
CELARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 497
regarded, he gives the following more particular
account – “Faith is Too ypºgrow #xsyxog od 37.stropévov
(Heb. xi. 1.), the demonstrative evidence of things
unseen, the supernatural evidence of things invisible,
not perceivable by eyes of men, or by any of our
natural senses or faculties. Faith is that divine
evidence whereby the spiritual man discerneth God
and the things of God. It is, with regard to the
spiritual world, what sense is with regard to the
natural. It is the spiritual sensation of every soul
that is born of God.”
By way of farther explanation, he proceeds to
ascribe to Faith, powers analogous to the corporeal
faculties of sight, hearing, tasting, and feeling; in most
of which instances he adduces apposite passages of the
New Testament, as where it is said, (Hebrews, xi.
27.) that Moses endured, as “seeing him who is
invisible;” and (St. John, v. 25.) that “the dead”
shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and they that
hear shall live;” and also, (Hebrews, vi. 5.) where con-
verts to Christianity are described as “tasting the
good word of God, and the powers of the world to
come.” But at the same time, in each of those
asserted exercises of Faith, he includes some or other
of his then prevalent persuasions, in a way which I
am satisfied he would not have defended in his later
days. It has nevertheless been my constant belief,
that the moral substance of what he inculcated was
not vitiated, however it might be disguised, by these
crude intermixtures; and I accordingly have always
considered the paragraph which next follows (Earnest
Appeal, 8.) as the unequivocal expression, not merely
of an upright, but of a morally exalted mind. “By
this Faith we are saved from all uneasiness of mind,
* Clearly the spiritually dead, as is shown by what follows, ver. 28.
VOL. II. FC K
498 REMARKS ON - THE LIFE AND
from the anguish of a wounded spirit, from discontent,
from fear and sorrow of heart, and from that in-
expressible listlessness and weariness, both of the
world and of ourselves, under which we had so help-
lessly laboured for many years, especially when we
were out of the hurry of the world, and sunk into
calm reflection. In this we find that love of God and
of all mankind which we had elsewhere sought in vain.
This, we know and feel, and therefore cannot but
declare, saves every one that partakes of it, both from
sin and misery, from every unhappy and every unholy
temper.
* Soft peace she brings ; wherever she arrives,
She builds our quiet as she forms our lives;
Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even,
And opens in each breast a little heaven.’”
I must not wait to say under what limitations and
conditions I admire the above glowing passage, the
former part of which remarkably accords with Burke's
pathetic description of the miseries so often felt by
those who “ have nothing on earth to hope or fear,”
in his Reflections on the French Revolution. The
truth is, that no man was more deeply sensible to the
instinctive inquiry of human nature,
Quid minuat curas, quid te tibi reddat amicum,
Quid purè tranquillet?
than John Wesley; and I believe one chief reason for
his high estimation of Prior among English poets was,
that he gives so many vivid sketches of man's
wretchedness, in spite of all possible contrivances to
enjoy life. But I go on to transcribe one or two of
the next ensuing paragraphs, which are quite in Mr.
Wesley's characteristic manner; and serve to throw
additional light on his notion of Faith.
“If you ask, Why then have not all men this Faith?
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 499
all, at least, who conceive it to be so happy a thing 2—
why do they not believe immediately 7
“We answer, It is the gift of God. No man is able
to work it in himself. It is a work of Omnipotence.
None can create a soul anew, but He who at first
created the heavens and the earth.
“May not your own experience teach you this 2
Can you give yourself this faith ? Is it now in your
power to see, or hear, or taste, or feel God? Can you
raise in yourself any perception of God, or of an in-
visible world 2 Is it in your power to burst the veil
that is on your heart, and let in the light of eternity?
You know it is not. You not only do not, but can-
not (by your own strength), thus believe. The more
you labour so to do, the more you will be convinced
it is the gift of God.” -
I am inclined to think that these passages, though
strongly marked with the excessive ardour of Mr.
Wesley's earlier course, do nevertheless evince that his
notion of faith, even then, was essentially moral, how-
ever as yet it might have been beclouded by some doc-
trinal admixtures; and that he considered the appro-
priate objects of faith to be, not fanciful chimeras, but
the morally influential realities of the invisible world.
The confidence he at that time had, that faith was
always communicated in a moment, tended to en-
velope his better principles in a sort of vaporous
atmosphere, and to conceal them even from the most
dispassionate observers. But the victory obtained by
those principles in Mr. Wesley's later years (however
incomplete in some respects) has fully proved that
they were always in existence, and makes it reason-
able, as well as just, to attach a sound and practical
sense to the expressions which have been quoted.
How far the import of those expressions, and some
even of the leading terms, have been sanctioned by
divines of highest character, Mr. Southey is too well
K K 2
500 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
qualified to judge, for me to trouble him with in-
stances. I will take the liberty, however, of tran-
scribing two short passages, one from Scougal, the
other from Archbishop Leighton, in both of which I
conceive Mr. Wesley's essential idea of Faith is vir-
tually, if not literally, recognised. -
Scougal's words are as follow:—“As the animal
life consisteth in that narrow and confined love which
is terminated on a man's self, and in his propension
towards those things which are pleasing to nature, so
the divine life stands in an universal and unbounded
affection, and in the mastery over our natural incli-
nations, that they may never be able to betray us to
those things which we know to be blameable. The
root of the divine life is Faith; the chief branches are
love to God, charity to man, purity, and humility:
for (as an excellent person hath well observed), how-
ever these names be common and vulgar, and make
no extraordinary sound, yet do they carry such a
mighty sense, that the tongue of man or angel can
pronounce nothing more weighty or excellent. Faith
hath the same place in the divine life, which sense
hath in the natural; being, indeed, nothing else but
a kind of sense, or feeling persuasion, of spiritual
things.” t
The passage from Archbishop Leighton is to be found
in his Meditationes Ethico-Criticae in Psalmum CXXX.,
and is this:– “Emortua itaque est et prorsus nulla,
vulgarium ac nomine tenus Christianorum fides; quae
eos ad gratiam illam divinam, quam se credere aiunt,
avidissime exoptandum, et expectandum, non excitat.
Vera et viva fides interioris hominis oculus est, luci-
dum ac perennem boni fontem, et perfectissime ama-
bilem Deum, conspiciens; ex quo aspectu fervidissi-
mum amorem nasci necesse est. Et divina illa lux,
qua coelitus animae immittitur, caloris vehiculum
est; et radiis suis ardentibus cor continuo succendit.
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 501
Et infinitam pulchritudinem conspiciendam exhibens,
totos animi effectus in sublime rapit.”
It seems to me, however, that this eloquent and
beautiful description needs little less than what has
been quoted from Mr. Wesley to be received under
limitations and conditions. The excellent Archbishop
gives a delightful view of Faith as it is in its own
nature, and no doubt as he, in good measure at least,
felt it in his own seraphic bosom. But he certainly
describes what is much oftener possessed, even by the
sincerest Christians, in its dawn, (happy is it for them
if it be a growing dawn 1) than in that meridian
brightness which bursts forth as it were at once in
these few sentences. It was not, it seems, in the
Archbishop's mind, mor, indeed, suitable to the brevity
of his remarks, to notice the advancing gradations be-
tween what he so justly accounts “emortua et prorsus
nulla fides,” and that anticipatory heaven which the
fulness of his Faith would imply. But, beyond doubt,
he would have at all times recognised those grada-
tions as expressly as they were recognised by John
Wesley in the comparatively sober evening of his
life; and, indeed, if it were necessary to guard against
a possible misconstruction of Leighton's expressions,
it would not be easy to find any thing more to the
purpose than in a remarkable passage in one of Mr.
Wesley's later sermons, where, more explicitly per-
haps than on any other occasion, he recants his for-
IY) eI’ (21°I’OI’S.
As I have referred to this passage more than once,
without expressly quoting it, I will take the liberty
of transcribing it, though it cannot have escaped Mr.
Southey's eye, and I am not sure whether it is not
noticed in his work. I think it confirms all I have
said respecting Mr. Wesley's notion of Faith.
“What,” he asks, “is the faith which is properly
saving, which brings eternal salvation to all those
K R 3
502 REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND
that keep it to the end? It is such a divine convic-
tion of God, and the things of God, as, even in its
infant state, enables every one that possesses it to
“fear God and work righteousness;' and whosoever,
in every nation, believes thus far, ‘is accepted of
Him;’ he actually is, at that very moment, in a state
of acceptance. But he is at present only a servant
of God; not properly a son : meantime, let it be ob-
served, that ‘the wrath of God no longer abideth
upon him.’
“Indeed, nearly fifty years ago, when the preachers
commonly called Methodists began to preach that
grand scriptural doctrine, Salvation by Faith, they
were not sufficiently apprised of the difference be-
tween a servant and a child of God. They did not
clearly understand that every one “who feareth God
and worketh righteousness is accepted of him.’ In
consequence of this, they were apt to make sad the
hearts of those whom God had not made sad. For
they frequently asked those who feared God, ‘Do you
know that your sins are forgiven º’ and upon their
answering ‘No;’ immediately replied, ‘Then you are
a child of the Devil!” No ; that does not follow. It
might have been said (and it is all that can be said
with propriety), “Hitherto you are only a servant;
you are not a child of God. You have already great
reason to praise God that he has called you to his
honourable service. Fear not. Continue crying unto
him, and you shall see greater things than these.”
I should here conclude my remarks, were it not that
I wish to add the transcript of a private letter, the
original of which is in my possession; and which
shows with what deep and consistent cordiality Mr.
Wesley had embraced the principles expressed in the
foregoing quotation. It was written to a person de-
pressed by a painful sense of spiritual deficiency.
CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY. 503
July 11, 1778.
“My DEAR }
“It is a natural effect of your bodily weakness, and
the turn of your mind, that you are continually in-
clined to write bitter things against yourself. Hence
you are easily persuaded to believe him that tells you
that you are “void of every degree of saving faith.'
No; that is not the case; for salvation is only by
faith, and you have received a degree of salvation:
you are saved from many outward sins—from the
corruption that overspreads the land as a flood. You
are saved, in a degree, from inward sins; from im-
penitence, for you know and feel yourself a sinner.
You are saved, in a degree, from pride; for you begin
to know yourself poor and helpless. You are saved
from seeking happiness in the world. This is not a
small thing. Opraise God for all you have, and trust
him for all you want!”
In closing these remarks, I must express my regret
that they have been so long delayed. But from the
beginning of November, 1826, until about two months
since, I was obliged, by the weakness of one of my eyes,
to relinquish both reading and writing. At length,
being able to write, I have hastened to fulfil my
engagement; but, being still unable to read with
safety, I may possibly have repeated in the latter
sheets what I had already said in those written fifteen
months ago; and I fear that, from the same cause,
there are many other faults which will need kind in-
dulgence. The truth is, I chose to exert my present
power, such as it is, though with the hazard of
executing my purpose very imperfectly, rather than
defer longer what had been already so long, and to
myself so painfully, protracted. But I am well as-
K K 4
504 REMARKS, ETC.
sured that any defects in manner will have every
allowance from that liberal and friendly mind, to
which it is my sole anxiety that my matter should be
interesting and satisfactory.
NOTES
AND
ILLUSTRATIONS.
507
NOTES ANT) ILLUSTRATIONS.
NOTE I. Page 20.
Thomas Olivers.
“For four or five years,” says this person, “I was greatly en-
tangled with a farmer's daughter, whose sister was married to Sir
I. P. of N–wt—n, in that country. What
‘Strange reverse of human fates 1’
for one sister was wooed by, and married to, a baronet, who was
esteemed one of the finest men in the country. When she died,
Sir I. was almost distracted. Presently after her funeral, he
published an elegy on her of a thousand verses | For her sake he
said, -
“O that the fleecy care had been my lot;
Some lonely cottage, or some verdant spot.’
For some time he daily visited her in her vault; and at last took
her up, and kept her in his bedchamber for several years.
“On the other hand, her sister, who was but little inferior in
person, fell into the hands of a most insignificant young man, who
was a means of driving her almost to an untimely end.”
The baronet whom Olivers alludes to, was probably Sir John
Price of Buckland. A certain Bridget Bostock was famous in the
county of Cheshire, in his time, for performing wonderful cures,
and he applied to her to raise his wife from the dead. His letters
upon this extraordinary subject may be found in the Monthly
Magazine, vol. xxvi. pp. 30, 31.* The person by whom they
* The successful application of animal magnetism in four or five cases of
suspended animation—in two of them after every known means had been used
for six hours to no purpose, and for which the Emperor of Russia, who was
present, and the King of Prussia, had a medal struck, one of which, in gold, was
given to Dr. Wolfant—may throw a conjectural gleam on the possible origin of
508 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
were communicated to that journal says, that they exposed the
writer to the severest ridicule ; but in any good mind they would
rather excite compassion. Sir John fully believed that this woman
could work miracles; and, reasoning upon that belief, he applied to
her in full faith. --
NOTE II. Page 34.
What Haime saw was certainly a bustard.
“The following very curious and authentic account of two bus-
tards was published in the Gentleman's Magazine for the year
1805, by Mr. Tucker, schoolmaster at Tilshead. ‘A man, about
four o'clock in the morning, on some day in June, 1801, was
coming from Tinhead to Tilshead, when near a place called Ask-
ings Penning, one mile from Tilshead, he saw over his head a
large bird, which afterwards proved to be a bustard. He had not
proceeded far before it lighted on the ground, immediately before
his horse, which it indicated an inclination to attack, and, in fact,
very soon began the onset. The man alighted, and getting hold
of the bird endeavoured to secure it; and after struggling with it
nearly an hour, succeeded, and brought it alive to the house of
Mr. Bartlett, at Tilshead, where it continued till the month of
August, when it was sold to Lord Temple for the sum of thirty-
one guineas. -
“About a fortnight subsequent to the taking this bustard, Mr.
Grant, a farmer residing at Tilshead, returning from Warminster
market, was attacked in a similar manner, near Tilshead Lodge,
by another bird of the same species. His horse, being spirited,
took fright and ran off, which obliged Mr. Grant to relinquish his
design of endeavouring to take the bird. The circumstance of
two birds (whose nature has been always considered, like that of
a turkey, domestic,) attacking a man and horse is so very singular
that it deserves recording, and particularly as it is probably the
last record we shall find of the existence of this bird upon our
downs.”— Sir Richard Hoare's Ancient Wiltshire, p. 94. note.
The birds certainly had their nest near ; and there is nothing
more wonderful in the fact, than what every sportsman has seen
in the partridge, when the mother attempts to draw him away
from her young. But it was with the greatest pleasure that I
Sir John's belief. There is no doubt that many of these wonder-cure-workers
were empirical magnetists, who had learnt the practice from tradition. —
S. T. C.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 509
recollected this anecdote in reading the Life of John Haime, not
merely as explaining the incident in the text, but as proving his
veracity; for undoubtedly, without this explanation, many readers
would have supposed the story to be a mere falsehood, which
would have discredited the writer's testimony in every other part
of his narration. -
NOTE III. Page 75.
The renewal of the image of God in the heart of man.
Mr. Toplady has a curious paper upon this subject.
“When a portrait painter takes a likeness, there must be an
original from whom to take it, Here the original are, God and
Christ. “When I awake up after thy likeness,’ &c.; and, we are
“predestinated to be conformed to the image of his Son.”
“The painter chooses the materials on which he will delineate
his piece. There are paintings on wood, on glass, on metals, on
ivory, on canvass. So God chooses and selects the persons on
whom his uncreated Spirit shall, with the pencil of effectual grace,
re-delineate that holy likeness which Adam lost. Among these
are some whose natural capacities, and acquired improvements,
are not of the first rate: there the image of God is painted on
wood. Others of God’s people have not those quick sensibilities,
and poignant feelings, by which many are distinguished: there
the Holy Spirit's painting is on marble. Others are permitted to
fall from the ardour of their first love, and to deviate from their
steadfastness: there the Holy Spirit paints on glass, which, per-
haps, the first stone of temptation may injure. But the Celestial
Artist will, in time, repair those breaches, and restore the frail,
brittle Christian to his original enjoyments, and to more than his
original purity; and, what may seem truly wonderful, Divine
Grace restores the picture by breaking it over again. It is the
broken-hearted sinner to whom God will impart the comforts of
Salvation.
“The ancients painted only in water-colours; but the moderns
(from about A.D. 1320) have added beauty and durability to their
pictures by painting them in oil. Applicable to hypocrites and
true believers. An hypocrite may outwardly bear something that
resembles the image of God; but it is only in fresco, or water-
colours, which do not last ; and are, at best, laid on by the hand
of dissimulation. But (if I may accommodate so familiar an idea
to so high a subject) the Holy Spirit paints in oil; he accompanies
his work with unction and with power; and hence it shall be
510 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
crowned with honours, and praise, and glory at Christ's appear-
ing.”—
The remainder of the paper is less apposite.
NOTE IV. Page 76.
The New Birth.
“The ground and reason of the expression,” says Wesley, “are
easy to be understood. When we undergo this great change, we
may, with much propriety, be said to be born again, because there
is so near a resemblance between the circumstances of the natural
and of the spiritual birth; so that to consider the circumstances
of the natural birth, is the most easy way to understand the
spiritual.
“The child which is not yet born subsists indeed by the air, as
does every thing which has life, but feels it not, nor any thing
else, unless in a very dull and imperfect manner. It hears little,
if at all ; the organs of hearing being as yet closed up. It sees
nothing, having its eyes fast shut up, and being surrounded with
utter darkness. There are, it may be, Some faint beginnings of life,
when the time of its birth draws nigh; and some motion conse-
quent thereon, whereby it is distinguished from a mere mass of
matter. But it has no senses; all these avenues of the soul are
hitherto quite shut up. Of consequence, it has scarcely any inter-
course with this visible world ; nor any knowledge, or conception,
or idea of the things that occur therein.
“The reason why he that is not yet born is wholly a stranger
to the visible world is, not because it is afar off: it is very nigh;
it surrounds him on every side : but partly because he has not
those senses—they are not yet opened in his soul, whereby alone
it is possible to hold commerce with the material world; and
partly because so thick a veil is cast between, through which he
can discern nothing.
“But no sooner is the child born into the world than he exists
in a quite different manner. He now feels the air with which he
is surrounded, and which pours into him from every side, as
fast as he alternately breathes it back, to sustain the flame of life,
and hence springs a continual increase of strength, of motion, and
of sensation: all the bodily senses being now awakened, and fur-
nished with their proper objects.
“His eyes are now opened to perceive the light, which, silently
flowing in upon them, discovers not only itself, but an infinite
variety of things, with which before he was wholly unacquainted.
His ears are unclosed, and sounds rush in with endless diversity.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 511
Every sense is employed upon such objects as are peculiarly
suitable to it; and by these inlets the soul, having an open inter-
course with the visible world, acquires more and more knowledge
of sensible things, of all the things which are under the sun.
“So it is with him that is born of God. Before that great
change is wrought, although he subsists by Him in whom all that
have life live, and move, and have their being, yet he is not sen-
sible of God; he does not feel, he has no inward consciousness of
his presence. He does not perceive that divine breath of life
without which he cannot subsist a moment. Nor is he sensible of
any of the things of God. They make no impression upon his
soul. God is continually calling to him from on high, but he
heareth not; his ears are shut, so that the “voice of the charmer’
is lost on him, ‘charm he ever so wisely.’ He seeth not the things
of the Spirit of God; the eyes of his understanding being closed,
and utter darkness covering his whole soul, surrounding him on
every side. It is true, he may have some faint dawnings of life,
some small beginnings of the spiritual motion; but as yet he has
no spiritual senses capable of discerning spiritual objects; conse-
quently he discerneth not the things of the Spirit of God. He
cannot know them, because they are spiritually discerned.
“Hence he has scarce any knowledge of the invisible world, as
he has scarce any intercourse with it. Not that it is afar off.
No : he is in the midst of it: it encompasses him round about.
The other world, as we usually term it, is not far from any of us.
It is above, and beneath, and on every side : only the natural man
discerneth it not ; partly because he hath no spiritual senses,
whereby alone we can discern the things of God; partly because
So thick a veil is interposed, as he knows not how to penetrate.
“But when he is born of God, born of the Spirit, how is the
manner of existence changed . His whole soul is now sensible of
God, and he can say, by sure experience, ‘Thou art about my
bed, and about my path ;’ I feel thee ‘in all my ways.” Thou
besettest me behind and before, and layest thy hand upon me.
The spirit or breath of God is immediately inspired, breathed
into the new-born soul. And the same breath, which comes from,
returns to God: as it is continually received by faith, so it is
continually rendered back by love, by prayer, and praise, and
thanksgiving ; love, and praise, and prayer, being the breath of
every soul which is truly born of God. And by this new kind of
spiritual respiration, spiritual life is not only sustained, but in-
creased day by day, together with spiritual strength, and motion,
and sensation. All the senses of the soul being now awake, and
capable of discerning spiritual good and evil.”
* Wherein differs reason from the spirit, in and to a man, if (as I believe)
512 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
“The eyes of his understanding are now open, and he seeth
Him that is invisible. He sees what is the exceeding greatness of
his power, and of his love towards them that believe. He sees
that God is merciful to him, a sinner; that he is reconciled through
the Son of his love. He clearly perceives both the pardoning
love of God and all his exceeding great and precious promises.
God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath
shined, and doth shine, in his heart, to enlighten him with the
Knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. All
the darkness is now passed away, and he abides in the light of
God’s countenance.
“His ears are now opened, and the voice of God no longer calls
in vain. He hears, and obeys the heavenly calling : he ‘knows
the voice of his Shepherd.’ All his spiritual senses being now
awakened, he has a clear intercourse with the invisible world.
And hence he knows more and more of the things which before
‘it could not enter into his heart to conceive.’ He now knows
what the peace of God is : what is joy in the Holy Ghost, what
the love of God which is shed abroad in the hearts of them that
believe in him through Christ Jesus. Thus the veil being re-
moved, which before intercepted the light and voice, the know-
ledge and love of God, he who is born of the Spirit, dwelling in
love, dwelleth in God, and God in him.” — Wesley's Works,
vol. vii. p. 268.
NOTE V. Page 76.
He entangled himself in contradictions.
“The expression being born again, was not first used by our
Lord in his conversation with Nicodemus. It was in common use
among the Jews when our Saviour appeared among them. When
an adult heathen was convinced that the Jewish religion was of
God, and desired to join therein, it was the custom to baptize him
first, before he was admitted to circumcision. And when he was
baptized, he was said to be born again ; by which they meant,
that he who was before a child of the Devil, was now adopted into
the family of God, and accounted one of his children. — Vol. vii.
p. 296.
reason be the presence of the Holy Spirit to a finite understanding—at once
the light and inward eye? I answer, Even as the sense of light, in the absence
of the sense of touch, and its accompanying sensation or feeling, would differ
from the joint impression from the cye and the single and double touch. —
S. T. C.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 513
Yet, in the same sermon, Wesley affirms, “that Baptism is not
the New Birth, that they are not one and the same thing. Many
indeed seem to imagine that they are just the same ; at least they
speak as if they thought so ; but I do not know that this opinion
is publicly avowed, by any denomination of Christians whatever.
Certainly it is not by any within these kingdoms, whether of the
Established Church or dissenting from it. The judgement of the
latter is clearly declared in their large catechism: ‘Q. What are
the parts of a Sacrament 2 A. The parts of a Sacrament are two ;
the one an outward and sensible sign, the other an inward and
spiritual grace signified. Q. What is Baptism 2 A. Baptism is a
Sacrament, wherein Christ hath ordained the washing with water
to be a sign and seal of regeneration by his Spirit.” Here it is
manifest, baptism, the sign, is spoken of as distinct from regene-
ration, the thing signified.”
Where was Wesley's logic 2 or where his fairness? Can any
thing be more evident, than that this catechism describes regene-
ration as the inward and spiritual grace, and the act of baptism
(sprinkling or immersion) as the outward and visible sign.” What
follows is as bad. -
“In the Church Catechism likewise, the judgement of our
Church is declared with the utmost clearness. “Q. What meanest
thou by this word Sacrament? A. I mean an outward and visible
sign of an inward and spiritual grace. Q. What is the outward
part or form in baptism 2 A. Water, wherein the person is bap-
* Well! and what then? Southey forgets that washing with water is the
catechismal translation of the Greek word Baptism; and that the latter is not a
larger term comprehending the former as one of its two parts. Now just put
the words washing with water, instead of its Greek Equipollent; or rather omit
the word, as it would have been omitted in any other mode of writing but that
of catechetic, in which the last word of the question is always the first of the
answer. “What is Baptism?”—“A Sacrament, in which the Baptism, or
washing with water, is made a sign and seal of Regeneration.” Wesley does
not deny that the Regeneration must either have preceded, or accompany the
Baptism, in order to be sealed by it. But Southey cannot be ignorant how
many pious and zealous sons of the Church, whom no one suspects of any Puri-
tan taint (such as George Herbert and the Author of the “Synagogue”), con-
sidered the hypothesis of Anticipation as a doctrine that ought to be tolerated
in the Church; it being evident that the Gospel conditions, which are essential
parts of true Baptism, are anticipated. Above all, Southey should consider that
if Regeneration mean Baptism, then Baptism must mean Regeneration : for
surely he will not say that the Regeneration required by Christ in his conversation
with Nicodemus meant no more than the common ceremony of immersing pro-
selytes, with which Nicodemus, a doctor in Israel, could not but be familiar 2
Suppose an estate conferred on an infant, under condition of maintaining such
and such charities, which his guardians accept for him, promising, in the mean
time, to take all the requisite measures for his due performance of these condi-
tions when of age to do so; on passing out of his minority he comes to his estate,
having satisfied the conditions. – S. T. C. - *
VOL. II. L L
514 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
tized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Q. What
is the inward parts, or thing signified? A. A death unto sin,
and a new birth unto righteousness.” Nothing therefore is plainer
than that, according to the Church of England, baptism is not the
New Birth.”
I do not believe that an instance of equal blindness or disin-
genuity (whichever it may be thought) can be found in all the
other parts of Wesley's works. So plain is it that the words of
the catechism mean precisely what Wesley affirms they do not
mean, that, in the very next page, he contradicts himself in the
clearest manner, and says, “it is certain, our Church supposes,
that all who are baptized in their infancy are at the same time
born again. And it is allowed, that the whole office for the bap-
tism of infants proceeds upon this supposition. Nor is it an ob-
jection of any weight against this, that we cannot comprehend
how this work can be wrought in infants.” – Vol. vii. p. 302.
NOTE VI. Page 78.
Instantaneous Conversion.
“An observation,” says Toplady, “which I met with in reading
Downmane's Christian Warfare, struck me much : speaking of
the Holy Spirit as the sealer of the Elect, he asks, how is it pos-
sible to receive the seal without feeling the impression.”
“Lord,” says Fuller in one of his Scripture Observations, “I
read of my Saviour, that when he was in the wilderness, then the
devil leaveth him, and behold angels came and ministered unto
him. A great change in a little time. No twilight betwixt night
and day. No purgatory condition betwixt hell and heaven, but
instantly, when out devil, in angel. Such is the case of every
solitary soul. It will make company for itself. A musing mind
will not stand neuter a minute, but presently side with legions of
good or bad thoughts. Grant, therefore, that my soul, which ever
will have some, may never have bad company.”
NOTE VII. Page 79.
Salvation not to be sought by Works.
This doctrine is stated with perilous indiscretion in one of the
Moravian hymns.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
5
1
5
When any, thro' a beam of light,
Can see and own they are not right,
But enter on a legal strife,
Amend their former course of life,
And work and toil, and sweat from day to day,
Such, to their Saviour quite mistake the way.
NOTE VIII. Page 80.
Faith.
In methodistical and mystical biography, the reader will some-
times be reminded of these lines in Ovid : —
In prece totus eram, caelestia numina sensi,
Lataque purpureé luce refulsit humus.
Non equidem widi (valeant mendacia vatum. /)
Te, Dea ; mec fueras adspicienda viro.
Sed qua nescieram, quorumque errore tenebar,
Cognita sunt, nullo praecipiente, mihi.
OvID, Fast. vi. 251—254.
NOTE IX. Page 84.
Assurance.
There is a good story of assurance in Belknap's History of New
Hampshire : — “A certain captain, John Underhill, in the days
of Puritanism, affirmed, that having long lain under a spirit of
bondage, he could get no assurance; till at length, as he was taking
a pipe of tobacco, the Spirit set home upon him an absolute pro-
mise of free grace, with Such assurance and joy, that he had never
since doubted of his good estate, neither should he, whatever sins
he might fall into. And he endeavoured to prove “that as the
Lord was pleased to convert Saul while he was persecuting, so he
might manifest himself to him while making a moderate use of
the good creature tobacco l’ This was one of the things for
which he was questioned and censured by the elders of Boston.”
Vol. i. p. 42.
“Another,” says South, “flatters himself, that he has lived in
full assurance of his salvation for ten or twenty, or, perhaps, thirty
years; that is, in other words, the man has been ignorant and con-
fident very long.” .
L L 2
516 NOTES AND IILUSTRATIONS.
NOTE X. Page 85.
Perfection.
The Gospel Magazine contains a likely anecdote concerning this
curious doctrine. “A lady of my acquaintance,” says the writer,
“ had, in the early stage of her religious profession, very closely
attached herself to a society of avowed Arminians; she had im-
bibed all their notions, and, among the rest, that of sinless perfec-
tion. What she had been taught to believe attainable, she at last
concluded she had herself attained as perfectly as any of the per-
fect class in Mr. Wesley's societies; and she accordingly went so
far as to profess she had obtained what they call the ‘second
blessing,” that is, an eradication of all sin, and a heart filled with
nothing but pure and perfect love. A circumstance, however, not
long after occurred, which gave a complete shock to her self-
righteous presumption, as well as to the principles from whence it
sprung. Her husband having one day contradicted her opinion
and controuled her will, in a matter where he thought himself
authorised to do both one and the other, the perfect lady felt her-
self so extremely angry, that, as she declared to me, she could
Have boxed his ears, and had great difficulty to refrain from Some
act declarative of the emotions of rising passion and resentment.
Alarmed at what she felt, and not knowing how to account for
such unhallowed sensations in a heart in which, as she thought,
all sin had been done away, she ran for explanation to the leader
of the perfect band. To her she related ingenuously all that
passed in the interview with her husband. The band-leader, in-
structed in the usual art of administering consolation, though at
the expense of truth and rectitude, replied, ‘What you felt on that
occasion, my dear, was nothing but a little animal nature l’ My
friend, being a lady of too much sense and too much honesty to be
imposed upon by such a delusory explanation, exclaimed, ‘Animal
nature | No; it was animal devil!” From that moment she bid
adieu to perfection, and its concomitant delusions, as well as to
those who are led by them.”
“Gnat-strainers,” says Toplady in one of his sermons, “are too
often camel-swallowers; and the Pharisaical mantle of superstitious
austerity is, very frequently, a cover for a cloven foot. Beware,
then, of driving too furiously at first setting out. Take the cool of
the day. Begin as you can hold on. I knew a lady, who, to prove
herself perfect, ripped off her flounces, and would not wear an ear-
ring, a necklace, a ring, or an inch of lace. Ruffles were Baby-
lonish. Powder was anti-Christian. A riband was carnal. A
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 517
snuff-box smelt of the bottomless pit. And yet, under all this
parade of outside humility, the fair ascetic was — but I forbear
entering into particulars: suffice it to say, that she was a concealed
Antinomian. And I have known too many similar instances.”
NOTE XI. Page 88.
Ministry of Angels.
Upon this subject Charles Wesley has thus expressed himself,
in a sermon upon Psalm xci. 11. : “He shall give his Angels charge
over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.”
“By these perfections, strength, and wisdom, they are well able
to preserve us either from the approach (if that be more profitable
for us) or in the attack of any evil. By their wisdom they discern
whatever either obstructs or promotes our real advantage ; by their
strength they effectually repel the one and secure a free course to
the other : by the first, they choose means conducive to these ends;
by the second, they put them in execution. One particular me-
thod of preserving good men, which we may reasonably suppose
these wise beings sometimes choose, and by their strength put in
execution, is the altering some material cause that would have a
pernicious effect; the purifying (for instance) tainted air, which
would otherwise produce a contagious distemper. And this they
may easily do, either by increasing the current of it, so as natu-
rally to cleanse its putridity; or, by mixing with it some other
substance, so to correct its hurtful qualities, and render it salu-
brious to human bodies. Another method they may be supposed
to adopt when their commission is not so general ; when they are
authorised to preserve some few persons from a common calamity.
It then is probable that they do not alter the cause, but the sub-
ject on which it is to work; that they do not lessen the strength of
the one, but increase that of the other. Thus, too, where they are
not allowed to prevent, they may remove, pain or sickness; thus
the angel restored Daniel in a moment, when neither strength or
breath remained in him.
“By these means, by changing either our bodies or the material
causes that use to affect them, they may easily defend us from all
bodily evils, so far as is expedient for us. A third method they
may be conceived to employ to defend us from spiritual dangers,
by applying themselves immediately to the soul to raise or allay
our passions; and, indeed, this province seems more natural to
them than either of the former. How a spiritual being can act
upon matter seems more unaccountable than how it can act on
L L 3
518 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
spirit : that one immaterial being, by touching another, should
increase or lessen its motion ; that an angel should retard or
quicken the channel wherein the passions of angelic substance
flow, no more excites our astonishment than that one piece of
matter should have the same effect on its kindred substance ; or
that a flood-gate, or other material instrument, should affect the
course of a river: rather, considering how contagious the nature
of the passions is, the wonder is on the other side; not how they
can avoid to affect him at all, but how they can avoid affecting
them more; how they can continue so near us, who are so subject
to catch them, without spreading the flames which burn in them-
selves. And a plain instance of their power to allay human pas-
sions is afforded us in the case of Daniel, when he beheld that
gloriously terrible minister, whose ‘face was as the appearance of
lightning, and his eyes as lamps of fire; his arms and feet like
polished brass, and his voice as the voice of a multitude,’ x 6. ;
when the tears and sorrows of the Prophet were turned so strong
upon him, that he was in a deep sleep, void of sense and motion.
Yet this fear, these turbulent passions, the angel allayed in a mo-
ment; when they were hurrying on with the utmost impetuosity,
he checked them in their course; so that immediately after we
find Daniel desiring the continuance of that converse which before
he was utterly unable to sustain. -
“The same effect was, doubtless, wrought on all those to whom
these superior beings, on their first appearance, used this salutation
—“Fear not;’ which would have been a mere insult and cruel
mockery upon human weakness, had they not, with that advice,
given the power to follow it. Nearly allied to this method of
influencing the passions, is the last I intend to mention, by which
the angels (it is probable) preserve good men, especially in or from
spiritual dangers. And this is by applying themselves to their
reason, by instilling good thoughts into their hearts; either such
as are good in their own nature, as tend to our improvement in
virtue, or such as are contrary to the suggestions of flesh and
blood, by which we are tempted to vice. It is not unlikely that
we are indebted to them, not only for most of those reflections
which suddenly dart into our minds, we know not how, having no
connection with any thing that went before them; but for many
of those also which seem entirely our own, and naturally conse-
quent from the preceding.” .
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 519
NOTE XII. Page 89.
Agency of evil Spirits.
“Let us consider,” says Wesley, “what may be the employment
of unholy spirits from death to the resurrection. We cannot doubt
but the moment they leave the body, they find themselves sur-
rounded by spirits of their own kind, probably human as well as
diabolical. What power God may permit these to exercise over
them, we do not distinctly know. But it is not improbable, he may
suffer Satan to employ them, as he does his own angels, in inflict-
ing death, or evils of various kinds, on the men that know not God.
For this end, they may raise storms by sea or by land ; they may
shoot meteors through the air ; they may occasion earthquakes;
and, in numberless ways, afflict those whom they are not suffered
to destroy. Where they are not permitted to take away life, they
may inflict various diseases: and many of these, which we may
judge to be natural, are undoubtedly diabolical. I believe this is
frequently the case with lunatics. It is observable that many of
these, mentioned in Scripture, who are called lunatics by one of
the Evangelists, are termed demoniacs by another. One of the
most eminent physicians I ever knew, particularly in cases of
insanity, the late Dr. Deacon, was clearly of opinion, that this was
the case with many, if not with most lunatics. And it is no valid
objection to this, that these diseases are so often cured by natural
means; for a wound inflicted by an evil spirit might be cured as
any other; unless that spirit were permitted to repeat the blow.
“May not some of these evil spirits be likewise employed, in
conjunction with evil angels, in tempting wicked men to sin, and
in procuring occasions for them 2 Yea, and in tempting good men
to sin, even after they have escaped the corruption that is in the
world. Herein, doubtless, they put forth all their strength, and
greatly glory if they conquer.”—Vol. xi. p. 31. -
“The ingenious Dr. Cheyne,” says one of Mr. Wesley's corre-
spondents, “reckons all gloomy wrong-headedness, and spurious
free-thinking, so many symptoms of bodily diseases: and, I think,
says, the human organs, in Some nervous distempers, may, perhaps,
be rendered fit for the actuation of demons: and advises religion
as an excellent remedy. Nor is this unlikely to be my own case ;
for a nervous disease of some years' standing, rose to its height in
1748, and I was attacked in proportion by irreligious opinions.
The medicinal part of his advice, a vegetable diet, at last, cured
my dreadful distemper. It is natural to think the spiritual part
L I, 4
520 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
of his advice equally good; and shall I neglect it, because I am
now in health P God forbid!—John Walsh. Armenian Maga-
zine, vol. ii. p. 433.
NOTE XIII. Page 93.
Immortality of Animals.
On this point Wesley's bitterest opponent agreed with him.
“I will honestly confess,” says Toplady, “that I never yet heard
one single argument urged against the immortality of brutes which,
if admitted, would not, mutatis mutandis, be equally conclusive
against the immortality of man.”
NOTE XIV. Page 106.
Itinerancy.
There are some things in the system of the Methodists which
very much resemble certain arrangements proposed by John Knox
and his colleagues in the First Book of Discipline. “It was found
necessary, says Dr. M'Crie, to employ some persons in extraor-
dinary and temporary charges. As there was not a sufficient num-
ber of ministers to supply the different parts of the country, that
the people might not be left altogether destitute of public worship
and instruction, certain pious persons who had received a common
education, were appointed to read the Scriptures and the Common
Prayers. These were called Readers. In large parishes persons
of this description were also employed to relieve the ministers
from a part of the public service. If they advanced in knowledge,
they were encouraged to add a few plain exhortations to the read-
ing of the Scriptures. In that case they were called Exhorters;
but they were examined and admitted, before entering upon this
employment. -
“The same cause gave rise to another temporary expedient.
Instead of fixing all the ministers in particular charges, it was
judged proper, after supplying the principal towns, to assign to
the rest the superintendence of a large district, over which they
were appointed regularly to travel for the purpose of preaching,
of planting churches, and inspecting the conduct of ministers,
exhorters, and readers. These were called Superintendents. The
number originally proposed was ten; but owing to the scarcity of
proper persons, or rather to the want of necessary funds, there
were never more than six appointed. The deficiency was supplied
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 521
by Commissioners or Visitors, appointed from time to time by the
General Assembly.”—Life of Knoa, vol. ii. pp. 6, 7. -
“We were not the first itinerant preachers in England,” says
Wesley: “twelve were appointed by Queen Elizabeth to travel
continually, in order to spread true religion through the kingdom.
And the office and salary still continues, though their work is
little attended to. Mr. Milner, late Vicar of Chipping, in Lanca-
shire, was one of them.” ..
Itinerant preaching (without referring to the obvious fact, that
the first preachers of Christianity in any country must necessarily
have been itinerant) is of a much earlier origin than Wesley has
here supposed. It was the especial business of the Dominicans,
and was practised by the other mendicant orders, and by the
Jesuits. And it was practised long before the institution of these
orders.
St. Cuthbert used to itinerate when he was abbot of Melrose, as
his predecessor St. Bóisil had done before him ; and Bede tells us,
that all persons eagerly flocked to listen to these preachers. “Nec
solum ipsi monasterio regularis vitae monita, simul et eacempla
praebebat; sed et vulgus circumpositum longè latéque a vità stultae
consuetudini's ad caelestiºn gaudiorum convertere curabat amorem.
Nam et multi ſidem quam habebant, iniquis profanabant operibus;
et aliqui etiam tempore mortalitatis neglectis fidei sacramentis
(quibus erant imbuti) ad erratica idololatriae medicamina concur-
rebant, quasi missam a Deo conditore plagam, per incantationes,
vel philacteria, vel alia quaelibet damoniacae artis arcana, cohi-
bere valerent. Ad utrorumque ergo corrigendum errorem, crebro
£pse de monasterio egressus, aliquotiens equo sedens, sed sapius
pedibus incedens, circumpositas veniebat ad villas, et viam veritatis
praedicabat errantibus; quod ipsum etiam Boisil suo tempore
Jacere consueverat. Erat quippe moris eo tempore populis An-
glorum, wt veniente in villam clerico vel presbytero, cuncti ad ejus
âmperium, verbum audituri confluerent, libenter ea quae dicerentur
audirent, libentius ea qua audire et intelligere poterant operando
sequerentwr.— Solebat autem ea maarime loca peragrare, et illis
praedicare in viculis, qui in arduis asperisque montibus procul
positi, aliis horrori erant ad visendum, et paupertate pariter ac
rusticitate suá doctorum prohibebant accessum : quos tamen ille,
pio libenter mancipatus labori, tantá doctrinae eacolebat industriá,
wt de monasterio egrediens, saºpe hebdomadá integrá, aliquando
duabus vel tribus, nonnunquam etiam mense pleno domum mon
rediret: sed demoratus in montanis, plebem rusticam verbo prae-
dicationis simul et eacemplo virtutis ad coelestia vocaret.—Beda,
J. 4. c. 27.
522 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
St. Chad used to itinerate on foot. “Consecratus ergo in epi-
scopatum Ceadda, maximam moa, coepit Ecclesiastica veritati e
castitati curam impendere; humilitati, continentiae, lectioni operam
dare; oppida, rura, casas, vicos, castella, propter evangelizandum
non equitando, sed Apostolorum more pedibus incedendo pera-
grare. (Beda. l. 3. c. 28.) In this he followed the example of his
master Aidan, till the primate compelled him to ride: Et quia
moris erat eidem reverendissimo antistiti opus Evangeli; magis
ambulando per loca, quam equitando perficere, jussit eum Theo-
dorus, ubicumque longius iter instaret, equitare; multumque rent-
tentem studio et amore pit laboris, ipse eum manu suá levavit in
equum ; quia nimirum sanctum virum esse comperit, atque equo
ºvehi quo esset necesse, compulit.—Beda. 1. 4. c. 3.
NOTE XV. Page 111.
- The Select Bands.
“The utility of these meetings appears from the following con-
siderations. St. John divides the followers of God into three
classes, (1 St. John, ii. 12.). St. Paul exhorts ministers to give
every one his portion of meat in due season. And there were
some things which our Lord did not make known to his disciples
till after his ascension, when they were prepared for them by the
descent of the Holy Ghost. These meetings give the preachers an
opportunity of speaking of the deep things of God, and of exhort-
ing the members to press after the full image of God. They also
form a bulwark to the doctrine of Christian perfection. It is a
pity that so few of the people embrace this privilege, and that every
preacher does not warmly espouse such profitable meetings.”—
Myles's Chronological History of the Methodists, p. 34.
The following letter upon this subject (transcribed from the
original, which was written by Mr. Wesley a few weeks only before
his death) shows how easily a select society was disturbed by
puzzling questions concerning the perfection which the members
professed.
“To Mr. Edward Lewly, Birmingham.
“My Dear Brother, London, Jan. 12. 1791.
“I do not believe a single person in your select society scruples
Saying,
Every moment, Lord, I need
The merit of thy death.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 523
This is clearly determined in the ‘Thoughts upon Perfection.”
But who expects common people to speak accurately 2 And how
easy is it to entangle them in their talk | I am afraid some have
done this already. A man that is not a thorough friend to Christian
Perfection will easily puzzle others, and thereby weaken, if not
destroy, any select society. I doubt this has been the case with
you. That Society was in a lively state, and well united together,
when I was last at Birmingham. My health has been better for a
few days than it has been for several months. Peace be with all
your spirits. I am your affectionate Brother, -
“ J. WESLEY.”
NOTE XVI. Page 117.
Psalmody.
“About this time, David's Psalms were translated into English
metre, and (if not publicly commanded) generally permitted to be
sung in all churches. The work was performed by Thomas Stern-
hold, (an Hampshire man, esquire, and of the Privy-chamber to
King Edward the Sixth, who for his part translated thirty-seven
selected psalms,) John Hopkins, Robert Wisedome, &c., men, whose
piety was better than their poetry; and they had drank more of
Jordan than of Helicon. These Psalms were therefore translated,
to make them more portable in people's memories, (verses being
twice as light as the self-same bulk in prose,) as also to raise men's
affections, the better to enable them to practise the Apostle's pre.
cept, ‘Is any merry P let him sing psalms.” Yet this work met
afterwards with some frowns in the faces of great clergymen, who
were rather contented, than well pleased, with the singing of them
in churches. I will not say, because they misliked so much liberty
should be allowed the laity (Rome only can be guilty of so great
envy) as to sing in churches: rather, because they conceived these
singing-psalms erected in conviviality and opposition to the reading-
psalms, which were formerly sung in cathedral churches: or else,
the child was disliked for the mother's sake ; because, such trans-
lators, though branched hither, had their root in Geneva.
“Since, later men have vented their just exceptions against the
baldness of the translation, so that sometimes they make the Maker
of the tongue to speak little better than barbarism; and have in
many verses such poor rhime, that two hammers on a Smith's anvil
would make better music. Whilst others (rather to excuse it than
defend it) do plead, that English poetry was then in the nonage,
not to say infancy, thereof; and that, match these verses for their
524 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
age, they shall go abreast with the best poems of those times.
Some, in favour of the translators, allege, that to be curious there-
in, and over-descanting with wit, had not become the plain Song,
and simplicity of an holy style. But these must know, there is
great difference between painting a face and not washing it. Many
since have far refined these translations, but yet their labours
therein never generally received in the church; principally, be-
cause un-booklearned people have conned by heart many psalms
of the old translation, which would be wholly disinherited of their
patrimony if a new edition were set forth. However it is desired,
and expected by moderate men, that, though the fabric stand un-
removed from the main, yet some bad contrivance therein may be
mended, and the bald rhimes in Some places get a new nap, which
would not much discompose the memory of the people.”—Fuller's
Church History, Cent. XVI., book vii. p. 406.
In a letter of Jewel's, written in 1560, he says, “that a change
appeared now more visible among the people. Nothing promoted
it more than the inviting the people to sing psalms. That was
begun in one church in London, and did quickly spread itself, not
only through the city, but in the neighbouring places. Sometimes
at Paul’s Cross there will be six thousand people singing to-
gether. This was very grievous to the Papists.”— Burnet's
Reformation, part iii. p. 290.
“There are two things,” says Wesley, “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 of
thanksgiving. This can never be defended by all the musicians in
Europe, till reason is quite out of date.”—Journal, xiii. p. 56.
And again, officiating in the church at Neath, he says: “I was
greatly disgusted at the manner of singing. First, twelve or
fourteen persons kept it to themselves and quite shut out the
congregation. Secondly, these repeated the same words, contrary
to all sense and reason, six, eight, or ten times over. Thirdly,
according to the shocking custom of modern music, different
persons sung different words at one and the same moment — an
intolerable insult on common sense, and utterly incompatible with
any devotion.”— Journal, xv. p. 24.
“From the first and apostolical age, singing was always a part
of divine service, in which the whole body of the church joined
together; which is a thing so evident, that though Cabassutius
denies it, and in his spite to the reformed churches, where it is
generally practised, calls it only a Protestant whim; yet Cardinal
Bona has more than once not only confessed, but solidly proved
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 525
it to have been the primitive practice. The decay of this first
brought the order of psalmista or singers into the church. For
when it was found by experience that the negligence and unskil-
fulness of the people rendered them unfit to perform this service,
without some more curious and skilful to guide and assist them,
then a peculiar order of men were appointed and set over this
business, with a design to retrieve and improve the ancient
psalmody, and not to abolish or destroy it.”—Bingham, b. iii.
c. 7. § 2. -
Whitefield was censured once for having some of his hymns set
to profane music, and he is said to have replied, “Would you .
have the devil keep all the good tunes to himself?”
NOTE XVII. Page 119.
Service of the Methodists.
Mr. Wesley prided himself upon the decency of worship in his
chapels. He says: “The longer I am absent from London, and
the more I attend the service of the church in other places, the
more I am convinced of the unspeakable advantage which the
people called Methodists enjoy. I mean, even with regard to
public worship, particularly on the Lord's Day. The church
where they assemble is not gay or splendid; which might be an
hindrance on the one hand: nor Sordid or dirty, which might give
distaste on the other; but plain as well as clean. The persons
who assemble there are not a gay, giddy crowd, who come chiefly
to see and be seen ; nor a company of goodly, formal, outside
Christians, whose religion lies in a dull round of duties; but a
people, most of whom know, and the rest earnestly seek to worship
God in spirit and in truth. Accordingly, they do not spend their
time there in bowing and curtseying, or in staring about them :
but in looking upward and looking inward, in hearkening to the
voice of God, and pouring out their hearts before him.
“It is also no small advantage that the person who reads
prayers (thqugh not always the same) yet is always one, who may
be supposed to speak from his heart; one whose life is no reproach
to his profession; and one who performs that solemn part of divine
service, not in a careless, hurrying, Slovenly manner, but seriously
and slowly, as becomes him who is transacting so high an affair
between God and man.
“Nor are their solemn addresses to God interrupted either by
the formal drawl of a parish clerk, the screaming of boys, who
bawl out what they neither feel nor understand, or the unreason-
526 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS,
able and unmeaning impertinence of a voluntary on the organ.
When it is seasonable to sing praise to God, they do it with the
spirit, and with the understanding also : not in the miserable,
scandalous, doggrel of Hopkins and Sternhold, but in psalms and
hymns which are both sense and poetry; such as would sooner
provoke a critic to turn Christian, than a Christian to turn critic.
What they sing is therefore a proper continuation of the spiritual
and reasonable service; being selected for that end, not by a poor
hum-drum wretch, who can scarce read what he drones out with
such an air of importance, but by one who knows what he is
about, and how to connect the preceding with the following part
of the service: nor does he take just “two staves,’ but more or
less as may best raise the soul to God, especially when sung in
well-composed and well-adapted tunes; not by a handful of wild
unawakened striplings, but by a whole serious congregation ; and
then not lolling at ease, or in the indecent posture of sitting,
drawling out one word after another, but all standing before God,
and praising him lustily, and with a good courage.”
NOTE XVIII. Page 131.
Strong feelings eaſpressed with levity.
Fuller relates a remarkable example of this : — “When worthy
master Samuel Hern, famous for his living, preaching, and writing,
lay on his death bed (rich only in goodness and children), his wife
made much womanish lamentation what should hereafter become
of her little ones. “Peace, sweetheart,” said he ; ‘that God who
feedeth the ravens will not starve the Herns.” A speech, censured
as light by some, observed by others as prophetical, as indeed it
came to pass that they were well disposed of.”— Fuller's Good
Thoughts. -
NOTE XIX. Page 145.
Methodism in Scotland.
The Methodists thus explain the cause of their failure in that
country: — “There certainly is a very wide difference between
the people of Scotland and the inhabitants of England. The
former have, from their earliest years, been accustomed to hear
the leading truths of the Gospel, mixed with Calvinism, constantly
preached, so that the truths are become quite familiar to them ;
NOTES AND IILUSTRATIONS. 527
but, in general, they know little or nothing of Christian experi-
ence; and genuine religion, or the life and power of godliness, is
in a very low state in that country. I am fully satisfied that it
requires a far higher degree of the Divine influence, generally
speaking, to awaken a Scotchman out of the dead sleep of sin,
than an Englishman. So greatly are they bigoted to their own
opinions, their mode of church government, and way of worship,
that it does not appear probable that our preachers will ever be of
much use to that people: and, in my opinion, except those who
are sent to Scotland exceed their own ministers in heart-searching,
experimental preaching, closely applying the truth to the con-
Sciences of the hearers, they may as well never go thither.” —
Pawson. -
NOTE XX. Page 148.
Effects of the Reformation upon Ireland.
“Ireland, and especiallie the ruder part, is not stored with such
learned men as Germanie is. If they had sound preachers, and
sincere livers, that by the imbalming of their carian soules with
the sweet and sacred flowers of holie writ, would instruct them in
the feare of God, in obeieng their princes, in observing the lawes,
in underpropping in ech man liis vocation the weale publike ; I
doubt not but, within two or three ages, M. Critabolus his heires
should heare so good a report run of the reformation of Ireland, as
it would be reckoned as civill as the best part of Germanie. Let
the soile be as fertile and betle as anie would wish, yet if the
husbandman will not manure it, sometime plow and eare it, some-
time harrow it, sometime till it, sometime marle it, sometime delve
it, sometime dig it, and sow it with good and sound corne, it will
bring foorth weeds, bind-corne, cockle, darnell, brambles, briers,
and sundrie wild shoots. So it fareth with the rude inhabitants
of Ireland; they lacke universities; they want instructors; they
are destitute of teachers; they are without preachers; they are
devoid of all such necessaries as apperteine to the training up of
youth : and, notwithstanding all these wants, if anie would be so
frowardlie set as to require them to use such civilitie, as other
regions, that are sufficientlie furnished with the like helps, he
might be accounted as unreasonable as he that would force a
creeple that lacketh both his legs to run, or one to pipe or whistle
a galiard that wanteth his upper lip.”—Stanihurst, in Holinshed's
Chronicles, vol. vi. p. 14. -
The ecclesiastical state of Ireland in 1576 is thus described by
528 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
John Vowell alias Hooker, the Chronicler: — “The temples all
ruined, the parish-churches, for the most part, without curates and
pastors, no service said, no God honoured, nor Christ preached,
nor sacraments ministered: many were born which never were
christened : the patrimony of the church wasted, and the lands
embezzled. A lamentable case, for a more deformed and a more
overthrown Church there could not be among Christians.”—
Holinshed's Chronicles, vol. vi. p. 382.
“The Kernes, or natural wild Irish, (and many of the better
sort of the nation also,) either adhere unto the Pope, or their own .
superstitious fancies, as in former times. And, to say truth, it is
no wonder that they should, there being no care taken to instruct
them in the Protestant religion, either by translating the Bible, or
the English Liturgy, into their own language, as was done in
Wales; but forcing them to come to church to the English service,
which the people understand no more than they do the mass. By
means whereof, the Irish are not only kept in continual ignorance,
as to the doctrine and devotions of the Church of England, and others
of the Protestant churches, but those of Rome are furnished with
an excellent argument for having the service of the Church in a
language which the common hearers do not understand. And,
therefore, I do heartily commend it to the care of the State (when
these distempers are composed) to provide that they may have
the Bible, and all other public means of Christian instruction,
in their natural tongue.”— Heylyn's Cosmography, p. 341.
I transcribe from the “Letters of Yorick,” (Dublin, 1817) this
“ description of a parish in the county of Waterford:”—“Kilbarry
is a lay impropriation. Mr. Fox, of Bramham Hall, Yorkshire, the
patron and proprietor, maintains no curate, nor any other service
than that of the occasional duties, for which he allows 31. 16s. 8d.
per annum. The lands are set tithe-free. There is but one Pro-
testant family in the parish, Mr. Carew's of Ballinamona. The
church is in ruins, but is accommodated with a church-yard.
NOTE XXI. Page 157.
Wesley's Political Conduct.
In a Letter written in 1782, Mr. Wesley says, “Two or three
years ago, when the kingdom was in imminent danger, I made an
offer to the Government of raising some men. The Secretary of
War, by the King's order, wrote me word ‘ that it was not
necessary: but if it ever should be necessary, His Majesty would
let me know.’ I never renewed the offer, and never intended it.
NOTES AND II, LUSTRATIONS. 529
But Captain Webb, without my knowing any thing of the matter,
went to Colonel B, the new Secretary of War, and renewed that
offer. The Colonel (I verily believe to avoid his importunity)
asked him “how many men he could raise ?' But the Colonel is
out of place ; so the thing is at an end.”
NOTE XXII. Page 186.
Wesley's Separation from his Wife.
The separation between Mr. and Mrs. Wesley is represented by
all his biographers as final. Yet, in his Journal for the ensuing
year, 1772, she is mentioned as travelling with him : “ Tuesday,
June 30. Calling at a little inn on the moors, I spoke a few words
to an old man there, as my wife did to the woman of the house.
They both appeared to be deeply affected. Perhaps Providence
sent us to this house for the sake of those two poor souls.”
NOTE XXIII. Page 234.
Trevecca.
The following curious account of a society instituted partly in
imitation of Lady Huntingdon's College, is taken from the preface
to a tract entitled “The Pre-existence of Souls, and Universal
Restitution, considered as Scripture Doctrines. Extracted from
the Minutes and Correspondence of Burnham Society.” Taunton,
1798. The editor was a singular person, whose name was Locke.
Mr. Wesley used to preach in the Society’s room in the course of
his travelling; and Mr. Fletcher, John Henderson, Sir Richard
Hill, and the Rev. Sir George Stonhouse were among the cor-
responding members.
“The small college, or rather large school, established at Tre-
vecca, in Wales, for the maintenance and education of pious young
men, of different religious sentiments”, suggested the idea of con-
stituting a religious society at Burnham, in the county of Somerset,
upon a similar plan, with regard to the difference of opinion. It
was intended to ensure to its members not only all the advantages
* Lady Huntingdon, the founder, leaned to the Supralapsarians; the Rev.
Walter Shirley, the president, to the Sublapsarians; the Rev. John Fletcher,
the superintendent master, defended the Arminian tenets of John Wesley; and
John Henderson, teacher of the higher classics, was an Universalist, after Ston-
house.
VOL. II, M. M.
530 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
enjoyed by common benefit-clubs, from their weekly contributions,
but to raise a fund sufficient to enable those who attended the
monthly meetings to enjoy all the pleasures of one of Addison's
Social Convivial Societies, subject, however, to a heavy fine for
drinking to excess, because the entertainment was to be conducted
upon the principles of a primitive Love Feast, which was to enjoy
all things in common.
“As the first or chief business of this society was to study phi-
losophy and polemic divinity, and debate on the difference of
religious opinions, in brotherly love; so ancient and modern con-
troversy was to be introduced, and, of course, candidates of any
religious denomination admitted as members of this philosophical
society. But in order that religious controversy should not operate
as a check upon the general good humour of the members, all per-
sonal reflections or invectives, tart or sour expressions, harsh
severe speeches, with every other impropriety of conduct, either
by word, look, or gesture, contrary to patience, meekness, and
humility, were punishable by fines and penalties; and for non-
compliance, the delinquents were either to be sent to Coventry or
excluded.
“The resolution entered into, of living in brotherly love, in the
same manner as we conceive angels would live, were they to
sojourn with men, and the liberal and rational plan upon which
this society was founded, gathered to it upwards of five hundred
members; upon which a resolution was made, that no speaker should
harangue more than five minutes at one time, supposing any other
member rose to speak. Hence arose the necessity for disputants
to conclude their debates in writing, with references to authors
who had written upon the subject, in order for the society to
deliver their opinions upon the question under consideration.
“These debates, papers, and references to books, disclosed to
the members (as their minds became more and more enlightened)
a variety of indirect roads and by-paths, in the exploring of which
they lost themselves; for, however firmly they were united in acts
of brotherly conformity in the service of one common Lord, they
gradually returned to their old customs — some to the worship of
their family gods — a few to the service of their own gods — others
paid obedience to an unknown god—but most neglected the
service of every god.
“This will account for the gradual desertion of members, and
the apparent necessity of permitting this once famous society to
degenerate into a mere benefit-club, which is now kept together by
a freehold estate (of twenty pounds per annum neat) purchased by
the president from the surplus contributions of members.”
“You formed a scheme,” says Toplady to Mr. Wesley, “of
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 531
collecting as many perfect ones as you could to live under one
roof. A number of these flowers were accordingly transplanted
from some of your nursery-beds to the hot-house. And an hot
house it soon proved. For, would we believe it ! the sinless
people quarrelled in a short time at so violent a rate, that you
found yourself forced to disband the whole regiment.”— Toplady's
Works, vol. v. p. 342.
Does this allude to the Burnham Society?
NOTE XXIV. Page 237.
Whitefield.
The device upon Whitefield's seal was a winged heart soaring
above the globe, and the motto Astra petamus. The seal appears
to have been circular, and coarsely cut. A broken impression is
upon an original letter of his in my possession, for which I am
obliged to Mr. Laing, the bookseller, of Edinburgh.
Mr. William Mason writes from Newbury Port, near Boston, to
the Gospel Magazine, and contradicts “an account which was
prevalent in London a few years past, and asserted with direct
possitivity in the Evangelical Magazine;” namely, “that the body
of the late Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, buried in this port, was
entire and uncorrupted. From whence such a falsehood could
have arisen, it is impossible to decide. About five years past (he
writes in 1801), a few friends were permitted to open the tomb
wherein the remains of that precious servant of Christ were in-
terred. After some difficulty in opening the coffin, we found the
flesh totally consumed. The gown, cassock, and band with which he
was buried, were almost the same as if just put into the cºffin. I
mention this particular as a caution to editors, especially of a
religious work, to avoid the marvellous, particularly when there
is no foundation for their assertions.”
The report, though it was as readily accredited by many persons
as the invention of a saint's body would be in a Catholic country,
seems not to have originated in any intention to deceive. Some
person writing from America, says, “One of the preachers told
me the body of Mr. Whitefield was not yet putrified. But several
other corpses are just in the same state at Newbury Port, owing
to vast quantities of nitre with which the earth there abounds.”
Whitefield is said to have preached eighteen thousand Sermons
during the thirty-four years of his ministry. The calculation was
made from a memorandum-book in which he noted down the times
and places of his preaching. This would be something more than
ten sermons a week.
M. M. 2
532 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
Wesley tells us himself, (Journal xiii. p. 121.) that he preached
about eight hundred sermons in a year. In fifty-three years,
reckoning from the time of his return from America, this would
amount to forty-two thousand four hundred. But it must be
remembered that even the hundreds in this sum were not written
discourses. -
Collier says, that Dr. Litchfield, rector of All Saints, Thames-
street, London, who died in 1447, left three thousand and eighty-
three sermons in his own hand. – Eccl. Hist, vol. ii. p. 187.
NOTE XXV. Page 242.
Conference with the Calvinists.
“I was at Bristól,” says Mr. Badcock, “when the Hon. Mr.
Shirley, by the order of my Lady Huntingdon, called him (Mr.
Wesley) to a public account for certain expressions which he had
uttered in some charge to his clergy, which savoured too much of
the popish doctrine of the merit of good works. Various specu-
lations were formed as to the manner in which Mr. Wesley would
evade the charge. Few conjectured right; but all seemed to agree
in one thing, and that was, that he would some how or other baffle
his antagonist : and baffle him he did; as Mr. Shirley afterwards
confessed, in a very lamentable pamphlet, which he published on
this redoubted controversy. In the crisis of the dispute, I heard
a celebrated preacher, who was one of Whitefield's successors,
express his suspicion of the event: for, says he, “I know him of
old : he is an eel; take him where you will, he will slip through
your fingers.” — Nichols's Anecdotes, vol. v. p. 224.
NOTE XXVI. Page 244.
Berridge of Everton,
This person (who was of Clare Hall) called himself a riding
pedlar, because, he used to say, his master employed him to serve
near forty shops in the country besides his own parish.
If the poems in the Gospel Magazine, with the signature of Old
Everton, are his, as I suppose them to be, the following slanderous
satire upon Mr. Wesley must be ascribed to him ; for it comes
evidently from the same hand: —
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 533
The Serpent and the Fow ; or, an Interview between old Nick
- and old John. -
There's a fox who resideth hard by,
The most perfect, and holy, and sly,
That e'er turn’d a coat, or could pilfer and lie.
As this reverend Reynard one day
Sat thinking what game next to play,
Old Nick came a seas'nable visit to pay.
O, your servant, my friend, quoth the priest,
Though you carry the mark of the beast,
I never shook paws with a welcomer guest.
Many thanks, holy man, cried the fiend,
'Twas because you're my very good friend
That I dropt in, with you a few moments to spend.
JOHN.
Your kindness requited shall be ;
There's the Calvinist-Methodists, see,
Who're eternally troublous to you and to me.
Now I’ll stir up the hounds of the whore
That's called scarlet, to worry them sore,
And then roast ’em in Smithfield, like Bonner of yore.
NICK.
O, a meal of the Calvinist brood
Will do my old stomach more good
Than a sheep to a wolf that is starving for food.
JOELN.
When America's conquer’d, you know,
('Till then we must leave them to crow,)
I'll work up our rulers to strike an home blow.
NICK.
An excellent plan, could you do it;
But if all the infernals, too, knew it,
They'd be puzzled, like me, to tell how you'll go through it.
M M 3
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
JOHN.
When they speak against vice in the Great,
I’ll cry out that they aim at the State,
And the Ministry, King, and the Parliament hate.
Thus I’ll still act the part of a liar,
Persecution’s blest spirit inspire,
And then “Calmly Address” 'em with faggot and fire.
NICK.
Ay, that’s the right way, I know well:
But how lies with perfection can dwell,
Is a riddle, dear John, that would puzzle all hell.
JOIIN.
Pish you talk like a doating old elf;
Can't you see how it brings in the pelf;
And all things are lawful that serve a man’s self.
As serpents, we ought to be wise:
Is not self-preservation a prize P
For this did not Abram the righteous tell lies 2
NICK.
I perceive you are subtle, though small :
You have reason, and Scripture, and all :
So stilted, you never can finally fall.
JOEIN.
From the drift of your latter reflection,
I fear you maintain some connection
With the crocodile crew that believe in Election.
NICR.
By my troth, I abhor the whole troop ;
With those heroes I never could cope:
I should chuckle to see 'em all swing in a rope.
JOEIN,
Ah, could we but set the land free
From those bawlers about the Decree,
Who're such torments to you, to my brother, and me !
As for Whitefield, I know it right well,
He has sent down his thousands to hell;
And, for aught that I know, he's gone with 'em to dwell.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 535
NICK.
I grant, my friend John, for 'tis true,
That he was not so perfect as you ;
Yet (confound him () I lost him, for all I could do.
JOEIN.
Take comfortſ he's not gone to glory ;
Or, at most, not above the first story :
For none but the perfect escape purgatory.
At best, he's in limbo, I’m sure,
And must still a long purging endure,
Ere, like me, he’s made sinless, quite holy, and pure.
NICK.
Such purging my Johnny needs none ;
By your own mighty works it is done,
And the kingdom of glory your merit has won.
Thus wrapt in your self-righteous plod,
And self-raised when you throw off this clod,
You shall mount, and demand your own seat, like a god.
You shall not in paradise wait,
But climb the third story with state ;
While your Whitefields and Hills are turn’d back from the
gate.
Old John never dreamt that he jeer'd ;
So Nick turn’d himself round, and he sneer'd,
And then shrugg’d up his shoulders, and strait disappear'd.
The priest, with a simpering face,
Shook his hair-locks, and paus’d for a space ;
Then sat down to forge lies with his usual grimace.
AUSCULTATOR.
NOTE XXVII. Page 245.
Calvinism.
“Some pestilent and abominable heretics there be,” says the
Catholic Bishop Watson, “that, for excusing of themselves, do
accuse Almighty God, and impute their mischievous deeds to God’s
predestination ; and would persuade that God, who is the fountain
of all goodness, were the author of all mischief; not only suffering
M. M. 4
536 NOTES AND IT,LUSTRATIONS.
men to do evil by their own wills, but also inforcing their wills to the
same evil, and working the same evil in them. I will not now
spend this little time (for it was near the end of his sermon) in
confuting their pestilent and devilish sayings, for it is better to
abhor them than to confute them.” — Holsome and Catholyhe
Doctryne, p. 124. 1558.
Dr. Beaumont has two good stanzas upon this subject in his
Psyche, which is one of the most extraordinary poems in this or in
any other language.
O no l may those black mouths for ever be
Damm’d up with silence and with shame, which dare
Father the foulest, deepest tyranny
On Love's great God; and needs will make it clear
From his own Word ' thus rendering him at once
Both Cruelty’s and Contradiction’s Prince.
A prince whose mocking law forbids, what yet
Is his eternally-resolved will ;
Who woos and tantalises souls to get
Up into heaven, yet destines them to hell;
Who calls them forth whom he keeps locked in ;
Who damns the sinner, yet ordains the sin.
Canto 10. st. 71, 72.
In the Arminian Magazine, Wesley has published the Examina-
tion of Tilenus before the Triers, in order to his intended settle-
ment in the office of a public preacher in the Commonwealth of
Eutopia, written by one who was present at the Synod of Dort.
The names of the Triers are very much in John Bunyan's style.
They are—Dr. Absolute, chairman; Mr. Fatality, Mr. Praeterition,
Mr. Fry-babe, Dr. Damn-man, Mr. Narrow Grace, Mr. Efficax,
Mr. Indefectible, Dr. Confidence, Dr. Dubious, Mr. Meanwell, Mr.
Simulans, Mr. Take-o'-Trust, Mr. Know-little, and Mr. Imper-
tinent.
If the Abbé Duvernet may be trusted (a writer alike liable to
suspicion for his ignorance and his immorality), Jansenius formally
asserts, in his Augustimus, that there are certain commandments
which it is impossible to obey, and that Christ did not die for all.
He refers to the Paris edition, vol. iii. pp. 138. 165.
NOTE XXVIII. Page 251.
Fletcher's Illustrations of Calvinism.
“I suppose you are still upon your travels. You come to the
borders of a great empire, and the first thing that strikes you is a
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 537
man in an easy carriage going with folded arms to take possession
of an immense estate, freely given him by the king of the country.
As he flies along, you just make out the motto of the royal chariot
in which he dozes, –“Free Reward.’ Soon after you meet five of
the king's carts, containing twenty wretches loaded with irons;
and the motto of every cart is, “Free Punishment.’ You inquire
into the meaning of this extraordinary procession, and the sheriff
attending the execution answers, Know, curious stranger, that our
monarch is absolute; and to show that sovereignty is the preroga-
tive of his imperial crown, and that he is no respecter of persons,
he distributes every day free rewards and free punishments, to a
certain number of his subjects. ‘What I without any regard to
merit or demerit, by mere caprice?” Not altogether so ; for he
pitches upon the worst of men, and chief of sinners, and upon
such to choose for the subjects of his rewards. (Elisha Coles, p. 62.)
And that his punishments may do as much honour to free sove-
reign wrath, as his bounty does to free sovereign grace, he pitches
upon those that shall be executed before they are born. “What I
have these poor creatures in chains done no harm P’ “O yes,”
says the sheriff, ‘the king contrived that their parents should let
them fall, and break their legs, before they had any knowledge;
when they came to years of discretion, he commanded them to run
a race with broken legs, and because they cannot do it, I am going
to see them quartered. Some of them, besides this, have been
obliged to fulfil the king's secret will, and bring about his pur-
poses ; and they shall be burned in yonder deep valley, called
Tophet, for their trouble.’ You are shocked at the sheriff’s
account, and begin to expostulate with him about the freeness of
the wrath which burns a man for doing the king's will; but all
the answer you can get from him is, that which you give me in
your fourth letter, page 23., where, speaking of a poor reprobate,
you say, ‘such an one is indeed accomplishing the king's, you say
“God’s, decree;’ but he carries a dreadful mark in his forehead,
that such a decree is, that he shall be punished with everlasting
destruction from the presence of the lord of the country. You
cry out, “God deliver me from the hands of a monarch who
punishes with everlasting destruction such as accomplish his de-
cree l’ and while the magistrate intimates that your exclamation
is a dreadful mark, if not in your forehead, at least upon your
tongue, that you yourself shall be apprehended against the next
execution, and made a public instance of the king's free wrath,
your blood runs cold ; you bid the postillion turn the horses; they
gallop for your life; and the moment you get out of the dreary
land, you bless God for your narrow escape.” — Fletcher's Works,
vol. iii. p. 26.
538 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
“You ‘decry illustrations,’ and I do not wonder at it; for they
carry light into Babel, where it is not desired. The father of
errors begets Darkness and Confusion. From Darkness and Con-
fusion springs Calvinism, who, wrapping himself up in some gar-
ments, which he has stolen from the Truth, deceives the nations,
and gets himself reverenced in a dark temple, as if he were the
pure and free Gospel.
“To bring him to a shameful end, we need not stab him with
the dagger of “calumny,’ or put him upon the rack of persecution.
Let him only be dragged out of his obscurity, and brought un-
masked to open light, and the silent beams of truth will pierce him
through Light alone will torture him to death, as the meridian
sun does a bird of night, that cannot fly from the gentle operation
of its beams.
“May the following illustration dart at least one luminous beam
into the profound darkness in which your venerable Diana delights
to dwell! And may it show the Christian world that we do
not “slander you’ when we assert, you inadvertently destroy
God’s law, and cast the Redeemer's crown to the ground: and that
when you say, ‘in point of justification,” (and consequently of con-
demnation,) ‘we have nothing to do with the law ; we are under
the law as a rule of life,’ but not as a rule of judgement ; you might
as well say, ‘we are under no law, and consequently no longer
accountable for our actions.”
“‘The king,’ whom I will suppose is in love with your doctrines
of free grace and free wrath, by the advice of a predestinarian
council and parliament, issues out a Gospel-proclamation, directed
‘to all his dear subjects, and elect people, the English.’ By this
evangelical manifesto they are informed, ‘that in consequence of
the Prince of Wales's meritorious intercession, and perfect obe-
dience to the laws of England, all the penalties annexed to the
breaking of those laws are now abolished with respect to English-
men : that His Majesty freely pardons all his subjects who have
been, are, or shall be guilty of adultery, murder, or treason : that
all their crimes ‘past, present, and to come, are for ever and for
ever cancelled :’ that nevertheless, his loving subjects, who remain
strangers to their privileges, shall still be served with sham-war-
rants according to law, and frightened out of their wits, till they
have learned to plead, they are Englishmen (i. e. elect): and then
they shall also set at'defiance all legalists ; that is, all those who
shall dare to deal with them according to law : and that, excepting
the case of the above-mentioned false prosecution of his chosen
people, none of them shall ever be molested for the breach of any
law. -
“By the same supreme authority it is likewise enacted, that all
NOTES AND IILUSTRATIONS. 539
the laws shall continue in force against foreigners (i.e. repro-.
bates), whom the King and the Prince hate with everlasting hatred,
and to whom they have agreed never to show mercy : that accord-
ingly they shall be prosecuted to the utmost rigour of every sta-
tute, till they are all hanged or burned out of the way : and that,
supposing no personal offence can be proved against them, it shall
be lawful to hang them in chains for the crime of one of their fore-
fathers, to set forth the king's wonderful justice, display his glo-
rious sovereignty, and make his chosen people relish the better
their sweet distinguishing privileges as Englishmen.
“Moreover, His Majesty, who loves order and harmony, charges
his loving subjects to consider still the statutes of England which
are in force against foreigners, as very good rules of life for the
English, which they shall do well to follow, but better to break;
because every breach of those rules will work for their good, and
make them sing louder the faithfulness of the King, the goodness
of the Prince, and the sweetness of this Gospel-proclamation.
“Again, as nothing is so displeasing to the King as legality,
which he hates even more than extortion and whoredom ; lest any
of his dear people, who have acted the part of a strumpet, robber,
murderer, or traitor, should, through the remains of their inbred
corruption and ridiculous legality, mourn too deeply for breaking
some of their rules of life, our gracious Monarch Solemnly assures
them, that though he highly disapproves of adultery and murder,
yet these breaches of rules are not worse in his sight than a wan-
dering thought in speaking to him, or a moment's dulness in his
service : that robbers, therefore, and traitors, adulterers, and mur-
derers, who are freeborn Englishmen, need not at all be uneasy
about losing his royal favour; this being utterly impossible, be-
cause they always stand complete in the honesty, loyalty, chastity,
and charity of the Prince.
“Moreover, because the King changes not, whatever lengths the
English go on in immorality, he will always look upon them as his
pleasant children, his dear people, and men after his own heart;
and that, on the other hand, whatsoever lengths foreigners go in
pious morality, His gracious Majesty is determined still to consider
them as hypocrites, vessels of wrath, and cursed children, for whom
às reserved the blackness of darkness for ever; because he always
views them completely guilty, and absolutely condemned in a cer-
tain robe of unrighteousness, woven thousands of years ago by one
of their ancestors. This dreadful sanbenito His Majesty hath
thought fit to put upon them by imputation, and in it, it is his good
pleasure that they shall hang in adamantine chains, or burn in fire
unquenchable.
“Finally, as foreigners are dangerous people, and may stir up
540 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
His Majesty's subjects to rebellion, the English are informed, that
if any one of them, were he to come over from Geneva itself, shall
dare to insinuate that his most gracious Gospel-proclamation is not
according to equity, morality, and godliness, the first Englishman
that meets him shall have full leave to brand him as a papist, with-
out judge or jury, in the forehead or on the back, as he thinks best;
and that, till he is farther proceeded with according to the utmost
severity of the law, the chosen people shall be informed, in the
Gospel Magazine, to beware of him, as a man ‘who scatters fire-
brands, arrows, and deaths,’ and makes universal havoc of every
article of this sweet Gospel-proclamation. Given at Geneva, and
signed by four of His Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State for
the Predestinarian Department.”
JOHN CALVIN, DR. CRISP,
The Author of P. O. ROWLAND HILL.
- Fletcher's Works, vol. iii. p. 282.
NOTE XXIX. Page 252.
Arminianism described by the Calvinists.
“Scarce had our first parents made their appearance, when Satan,
the first Arminian, began to preach the pernicious doctrine of free-
will to them, which so pleased the old gentleman and his lady, that
they (like thousands of their foolish offspring in this our day) ad-
hered to the deceitful news, embraced it cordially, disobeyed the
command of their Maker, and, by so doing, launched their whole
posterity into a cloud of miseries and ills. But some perhaps will
be ready to say that Arminianism, though an error, cannot be the
root of all other errors; to which I answer, that if it first originated
in Satan, then, I ask, from whence springs any error or evil in the
world P Surely Satan must be the first moving cause of all evils
that ever did, do now, or ever will make their appearance in this
world; consequently, he was the first propagator of that cursed doc-
trine above mentioned. Hence Arminianism begat Popery, and
Popery begat Methodism, and Methodism begat Moderate Calvin-
ism, and Moderate Calvinism begat Baxterianism, and Baxterianism
begat Unitarianism, and Unitarianism begat Arianism, and Arian-
ism begat Universalism, and Universalism begat Deism, and Deism
begat Atheism; and living and dying in the embracement of every
of the above evils or is ms, where Christ is, they never can come.
Thus I consider that Arminianism is the original of all the per-
nicious doctrines that are propagated in the world, and Destruc-
NOTES AND II, LUSTRATIONS. 541
tionism will close the whole of them.”— Gospel Magazine, 1807,
p. 16.
“Of the two (says Huntington the S.S.) I would rather be a
Deist than an Arminian ; for an established Deist Sears his own
conscience, so that he goes to hell in the easy chair of insensibility;
but the Arminian, who wages war with open eyes against the
sovereignty of God, fights most of his battles in the very fears and
horrors of hell.”— Huntington's Works, vol. i. p. 363.
“The sons of bondage,” says a red-hot Antinomian, who signs
himself Rufus, “like Satan and his compeers, are unsatisfied with
slavery themselves, unless they can entice others into the same
dilemma. They are for ever forging their accursed fetters for the
sons of God in the hot flames of Sinai's fiery vengeance; and in
the hypocritical age of the nineteenth century, pour forth whole
troops of work-mongers, commonly known by the name of Mode-
rate Calvinists, who, under an incredible profession of sanctity, lie
in wait to deceive ; and, by their much fair speeches, entrap the un-
wary pilgrims into the domains of Doubting Castle, binding them
within those solitary ruins to the legal drudgery of embracing the
moral or preceptive law, as the rule of their lives.”
Upon the subject of election, there is a tremendous rant by a
writer who calls himself Ebenezer.
“Before sin can destroy any one of God's elect, it must change
the word of truth into a lie ; strip Jesus Christ of all his merit;
render his blood inefficacious ; pollute his righteousness; contami-
nate his nature ; conquer his omnipotence ; cast him from his
throne; and sink him in the abyss of perdition: it must turn the
love of God into hatred ; nullify the council of the Most High ;
destroy the everlasting covenant ; and make void the oath of Jeho.
vah : nay, it must raise discord amongst the Divine attributes;
make Father, Son and Spirit unfaithful to each other, and set them
at variance; change the Divine nature ; wrest the sceptre from the
hand of the Almighty; dethrone him; and put a period to his ex-
istence. Till it has done all this, we boldly say unto the redeemed,
Fear not, for we shall not be ashamed ; neither be dismayed, for
you shall not be confounded.”— Gospel Magazine, 1804, p. 287.
NOTE XXX, Page 266.
Young Grimshaw.
“He, too,” says Mr. Wesley, “is now gone into eternity . So,
in a few years, the family is extinct. I preached in a meadow,
near the house, to a numerous congregation; and we sang with one
heart—
542 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
Let sickness blast and death devour,
If Heaven will recompense our pains;
Perish the grass, and fade the flower,
Since firm the word of God remains. .
NOTE XXXI. Page 360.
The Covenant.
If proof were wanting to confirm the opinion which I have
advanced of the perilous tendency of this fanatical practice,
William Huntington, S. S., a personage sufficiently notorious in
his day, would be an unexceptionable evidence. He thus relates
his own case, in his “Kingdom of Heaven taken by Prayer.”
“Having got a little book that a person had lent me, which
recommended vows to be made to God, I accordingly stripped
myself naked, to make a vow to the Almighty, if he would enable
me to cast myself upon him. Thus I bound my soul with numerous
ties, and wept over every part of the written covenant which this
book contained. These I read naked on my knees, and vowed to
perform all the conditions that were therein proposed. Having
made this covenant, I went to bed, wept, and prayed the greatest
part of that night, and arose in the morning pregnant with all the
wretched resolutions of fallen nature. I now manfully engaged
the world, the flesh, and the Devil, in my own strength; and I had
bound myself up with so many promised conditions, that, if I failed
in one point, I was gone for ever, according to the tenor of my
own covenant, provided that God should deal with me according
to my sins, and reward me according to mine iniquity.
“But, before the week was out, I broke through all these engage-
ments, and fell deeper into the bowels of despair than ever I had
been before. And now, seemingly, all was gone: I gave up
prayer, and secretly wished to be in hell, that I might know the
worst of it, and be delivered from the fear of worse to come. I
was now again tempted to believe that there is no God, and wished
to close in with the temptation, and be an established or confirmed
atheist; for I knew, if there was a God, that I must be damned;
therefore I laboured to credit the temptation, and fix it firm in my
heart. But, alas! said I, how can I? If I credit this, I must
disbelieve my own existence, and dispute myself out of common
sense and feeling, for I am in hell already. There is no feeling in
hell but what I have an earnest of Hell is a place where mercy
never comes : I have a sense of none. It is a separation from
God: I am without God in the world. It is a hopeless state: I
have no hope. It is to feel the burthen of sin : I am burthened
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, 543
as much as mortal can be. It is to feel the lashes of conscience :
I feel them all the day long. It is to be a companion for devils:
I am harassed with them from morning till night. It is to meditate
distractedly on an endless eternity : I am already engaged in this.
It is to sin and rebel against God: I do it perpetually. It is to
reflect upon past madness and folly : this is the daily employ of
my mind. It is to labour under God’s unmixed wrath : this I feel
continually. It is to lie under the tormenting sceptre of ever-
lasting death : this is already begun. Alas! to believe there is no
God, is like persuading myself that I am in a state of annihilation.”
— Huntington's Works, vol. i. p. 193.
NOTE XXXII. Page 365.
The Value of a good Conscience.
Upon this subject the Methodist Magazine affords a good illus-
tration. A poor Cornishman, John Nile by name, had been what
is called under conviction twelve months, – in a deplorable state,
walking disconsolate, while his brethren were enjoying their justi-
fication. One night, going into his fields, he detected one of his
neighbours in the act of stealing his turnips, and brought the culprit
quietly into the house with the sack which he had nearly filled.
He made him empty the sack, to see if any of his seed turnips
were there, and finding two or three large ones, which he had in-
tended to reserve for that purpose, he laid them aside, bade the
man put the rest into the sack again, helped him to lay it on his
back, and told him to take them home, and if at any time he was
in distress, to come and ask and he should have ; but he exhorted
him to steal no more. Then shaking him by the hand, he said,
I forgive you, and may God for Christ's sake do the same. What
effect this had upon the thief is not stated; but John Nile was that
night “filled with a clear evidence of pardoning love,” with an
assurance, that having forgiven his brother his trespasses, his
heavenly Father also had forgiven him.”—Did the feeling pro-
ceed from his faith, or his good works .
“The Scriptures,” says Priestley, “uniformly instruct us to
judge of ourselves and others, not by uncertain and undescribable
feelings, but by evident actions. As our Saviour says, “by their
fruits shall ye know men.” For where a man's conduct is not only
occasionally, but uniformly right, the principle upon which he acts
must be good. Indeed, the only reason why we value good prin-
ciples is on account of their uniform operation in producing good
conduct. This is the end, and the principle is only the means.”—
Preface to Original Letters by Wesley and his Friends.
544 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
NOTE XXXIII. Page 368.
Wesley's Doctrine concerning Riches.
Upon this subject, Mr. Wesley has preserved a fine anecdote.
“Beware,” he says, “of forming a hasty judgement concerning the
fortune of others. There may be secrets in the situation of a per-
son, which few but God are acquainted with. Some years since,
I told a gentleman, Sir, I am afraid you are covetous. He asked
me, What is the reason of your fears? I answered, A year ago,
when I made a collection for the expense of repairing the Foundry,
you subscribed five guineas. At the subscription made this year
you subscribed only half-a-guinea. He made no reply; but after
a time asked, Pray, Sir, answer me a question: why do you live upon
potatoes? (I did so between three and four years.) I replied, It
has much conduced to my health. He answered, I believe it has.
But did you not do it likewise to save money P I said, I did, for
what I save from my own meat, will feed another that else would
have none. But, Sir, said he, if this be your motive, you may save
much more. I know a man that goes to the market at the begin-
ning of every week. There he buys a pennyworth of parsnips,
which he boils in a large quantity of water. The parsnips serve
him for food, and the water for drink the ensuing week, so his
meat and drink together cost him only one penny a week. This he
constantly did, though he had then two hundred pounds a year, to
pay the debts which he had contracted before he knew God!—And
this was he, whom I had set down for a covetous man.”
To this affecting anecdote I add an extract from Wesley's
Journal, relating to the subject of property.
“In the evening one sat behind me in the pulpit at Bristol, who
was one of our first masters at Kingswood. A little after he left
the school, he likewise left the Society. Riches then flowed in
upon him; with which, having no relations, Mr. Spencer designed
to do much good — after his death. But God said unto him,
Thow fool / Two hours after he died intestate, and left all his
money to be scrambled for.
“Reader! if you have not done it already, make your will before
$/ow sleep.”—Journal xix. 8.
I know a person who, upon reading this passage, took the advice.
NOTES AND IILUSTRATIONS. 545
MR. WESLEY's EPITAPHS,
ON THE TOMB-STONE.
To the Memory of
THE WENERABLE JOHN WESLEY, A.M.
Late Fellow of LINCOLN College, Oxford.
This GREAT LIGHT arose
(By the singular Providence of God)
To enlighten THESE NATIONS,
And to revive, enforce, and defend,
The Pure, Apostolical DOCTRINEs and PRACTICEs of
THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH :
Which he continued to do, by his WRITINGs and his
LABOURS,
For more than HALF A CENTURY:
And, to his inexpressible Joy,
Not only beheld their INFLUENCE extending,
And their EFFICACY witnessed,
In the Hearts and Lives of MANY THOUSANDs,
As well in the WESTERN WoRLD as in these
- KINGDOMs:
But also, far above all human Power or Expectation,
Lived to see PROVISION made by the singular GRACE of
GOD
For their CONTINUANCE and ESTABLISHMENT,
TO THE JOY OF FUTURE GENERATIONS
READER, if thou art constrained to bless the INSTRUMENT,
GIVE GOD THE GLORY | -
After having languished a few days, he at length finished
his CourSE and his LIFE together ; gloriously
triumphing over DEATH, March 2. An.
Dom. 1791, in the Eighty-eighth Year
Of his Age.
WOL. II. N N
546 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
IN THE CHAPEL.
Sacred to the Memory
Of the Rev. JoBN WESLEY, M.A.
Some time Fellow of LINCOLN CoIDEGE, OXFORD.
A Man, in Learning and sincere Piety,
Scarcely inferior to any :
In Zeal, Ministerial Labours, and extensive Usefulness,
Superior (perhaps) to all Men
Since the days of ST. PAUL.
Regardless of Fatigue, personal Danger, and Disgrace,
He went out into the highways and hedges,
Calling Sinners to Repentance,
And Preaching the GoSPEL of Peace.
He was the Founder of the Methodist Societies;
The Patron and Friend of the Lay Preachers,
By whose Aid he extended the Plan of Itinerant Preaching
Through GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND,
The WEST INDIES and AMERICA,
With unexampled Success.
He was born June 17th, 1703,
And died March 2d, 1791,
* In sure and certain hope of Eternal Life,
Through the Atonement and Mediation of a Crucified Saviour.
He was sixty-five Years in the Ministry,
And fifty-two an Itinerant Preacher :
He lived to see, in these KINGDOMS only,
About Three hundred Itinerant,
And a Thousand Local Preachers,
Raised up from the midst of his own People ;
And Eighty thousand Persons in the Societies under his Care.
His Name will ever be had in grateful Remembrance
By all who rejoice in the universal Spread
Of the Gospel of CHRIST.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Not long after Mr. Wesley's death a pamphlet was published,
entitled, “An Impartial Review of his Life and Writings.” Two
love-letters were inserted as having been written by him to a
young lady in his eighty-first year; and, “to prevent all suspicion
of their authenticity,” the author declared that the original letters,
in the handwriting of Mr. Wesley, were then in his possession,
and that they should be open to the inspection of any person who
would call at a given place to examine them. “With this de-
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 547
claration,” says Mr. Drew, “many were satisfied; but many who
continued incredulous, actually called. Unfortunately, however,
they always happened to call either when the author was engaged,
or when he was from home, or when these original letters were
lent for the inspection of others! It so happened, that though
they were always open to examination, they could never be seen.”
In the year 1801, however, the author, a Mr. J. Collet, wrote to
Dr. Coke, confessing that he had written the letters himself, and
that most of the pretended facts in the pamphlet were equally
fictitious.
The Ex-Bishop Gregoire has inserted one of these forged letters
in his History of the Religious Sects of the last Century. He
reckons among the Methodists Mr. Wilberforce, who, he says, has
defended the principles of Methodism in his writings, and le poète
Sir Richard Hill, Baronnet. But the most amusing specimen of
the Ex-Bishop's accuracy is, where enumerating among the con-
troverted subjects of the last century, La Reforme du Symbole
Athanasien, he adds, a cette discussion se rattache la Controverse
Blagdonienne entre le curé de Blagdon, près de Bristol, et Miss
Płazzah More.
ADDITIONAL NOTES
CONCERNING MR. WESLEY'S FAMILY.
BARTHOLOMEW WESLEY is said to have been the fanatical minister
of Charmouth, in Dorsetshire, who had nearly been the means of
delivering Lord Wilmot and Charles II. to their enemies. Lord
Clarendon's account, however, differs from this ; he says that the
man was a weaver, and had been a soldier ; but Mr. Wesley had
received an University education.
Samuel Wesley, the elder, was a student in a dissenting academy,
kept by Mr. Veal, at Stepney; and, according to John Dunton,
was “educated upon charity” there; an invidious expression,
meaning nothing more than that the friends of his parents assisted
in giving him an education which his mother could not have
afforded. He distinguished himself there by his facility in versi-
fying; and the year after his removal to Oxford, published a
volume entitled “Maggots, or poems on several subjects never
before handled.” A whimsical portrait of the anonymous author
N N 2
548 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
was prefixed, representing him writing at a table, crowned with
laurel, and with a maggot on his forehead: underneath are these
words : — -
In’s own defence the author writes,
Because when this foul maggot bites
He ne'er can rest in quiet,
Which makes him make so sad a face,
He’d beg your Worship or your Grace
Unsight, unseen to buy it.
It was by the profits of this work, and by composing elegies,
epitaphs, and epithalamiums, for his friend John Dunton, who
traded in these articles, and kept a stock by him ready made, that
Mr. Wesley supported himself at Oxford : not, as I have erro-
neously stated (after Dr. Whitehead), by what he earned in the
University itself. “He usually wrote too fast,” says Dunton, “to
write well. Two hundred couplets a-day are too many by two
thirds to be well furnished with all the beauties and the graces of
that art. He wrote very much for me both in prose and verse,
though I shall not name over the titles, in regard I am altogether
as unwilling to see my name at the bottom of them, as Mr. Wesley
would be to subscribe his own.”
Dunton and Wesley were brothers-in-law, and when the former
wrote his “Life and Errors,” they were not upon amicable terms.
Dunton could not forgive him for having published a letter con-
cerning the education of the Dissenters in their private academies.
It appears, however, by his own account, that Mr. Wesley, little as
he had to spare, had lent him money in his distresses; and Dunton,
even while he satirises him, acknowledges that he was a generous,
good-humoured, and pious man.
Mr. Nichols (Literary Anecdotes, vol. ii. p. 84.) says that Mr.
Wesley's house was burnt twice. John, however, only says, that
the villains several times attempted to burn it. He had made
great progress in his laborious work upon the Book of Job, having
collated all the copies he could meet with of the original, and the
Greek and other versions and editions. All these labours were
destroyed: but in the decline of life he resumed the task, though
oppressed with gout and palsy through long habit of study. Among
other assistances he particularly acknowledges that of his three
sons, and his friend Maurice Johnson.
The book was printed at Mr. Bowyer's press. How much is it
to be wished that the productions of all our great presses had been
recorded with equal diligenceſ
The Dissertationes in Librum Jobi, I have never seen ; but I
learn from Mr. Nichols's Literary Anecdotes, (vol. v. p. 212.) that
a curious emblematical portrait of the author is prefixed to the
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 549
volume. It represents “Job in a chair of state, dressed in a robe
bordered with fur, sitting beneath a gateway, on the arch of which
is written JoB PATRIARCHA. He bears a sceptre in his hand, and
in the back-ground are seen two of the pyramids of Egypt. His
position exactly corresponds with the idea given us by the Scrip-
tures in the book of Job, chap. xxix. 7. : “When I went out to the
gate through the city, when I prepared my seat in the street:’ ac-
cording to the custom of those times, of great men sitting at the
gate of the city to decide causes. The subscription on a tablet
beneath his feet, An. aetat, circiter LXX. Quis mihi tribuat 3
mark it out as the quaint device of a man in years who thought
himself neglected.” -
Garth and Swift have mentioned Wesley with contempt: and
Pope introduced him in the Dunciad, in company with Watts.
Both names were erased in the subsequent editions. Pope felt
ashamed of having spoken injuriously of such a man as Dr. Watts,
who was entitled not only to high respect for his talents, but to
admiration for his innocent and holy life: and he had become
intimate with Samuel Wesley the younger. That excellent man
exerted himself in every way to assist his father, when the latter
had lost all hope of the preferment which he once had reason to
expect. -
“Time,” says Mr. Badcock, “had so far gotten the better of his
fury against Sir Robert (Walpole), as to change the satirist into
the suppliant. I have seen a copy of verses addressed to the great
minister, in behalf of his poor and aged parent. But I have seen
something much better. I have in my possession a letter of this
poor and aged parent, addressed to his son Samuel, in which he
gratefully acknowledges his filial duty in terms so affecting, that I
am at a loss which to admire most, the gratitude of the parent, or
the affection and generosity of the child. It was written when the
good old man was nearly fourscore, and so weakened by a palsy as
to be incapable of directing a pen, unless with his left hand. I
preserve it as a curious memorial of what will make Wesley ap-
plauded when his wit is forgotten.”— Literary Anecdotes, vol. v.
p. 220.
The only works of the elder Wesley which I have met with are
the two following, which were probably his most successful publi-
cations.
The History of the Old Testament in Verse, with One hundred
and eighty Sculptures, in two Volumes, dedicated to Her Most
Sacred Majesty. Vol. I. From the Creation to the Revolt of the
Ten Tribes from the House of David. Vol. II. From that Revolt
to the End of the Prophets.-Written by Samuel Wesley, A.M.,
Chaplain to his Grace John, Duke of Buckingham and Marquis of
Normanby, Author of the Life of Christ, an Heroic Poem. The
550 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
§
Cuts done by J. Sturt. London: printed for Cha. Harper, at the
Flower-de-luce, over-against St. Dunstan's Church, in Fleet-street.
1704. 12mo. -- .*
The History of the New Testament, representing the Actions
and Miracles of our Blessed Saviour and his Apostles: attempted
in Verse, and adorned with 152 Sculptures. Written by Samuel
Wesley, A.M., Chaplain to the Most Honourable the Lord Marquis
of Normanby, and Author of the Life of Christ, an Heroic Poem.
The Cuts done by J. Sturt. London: printed for Cha. Harper, at
the Flower-de-luce, over-against St. Dunstan’s Church, in Fleet-
street. 1701. 12mo.
The elder Wesley had a clerk who was a Whig, like his master,
and a poet also, of a very original kind. “One Sunday, imme-
diately after sermon, he said, with an audible voice, ‘Let us sing
to the praise and glory of God a hymn of my own composing.” It
was short and sweet, and ran thus:
‘King William is come home, come home,
King William home is come !
Therefore let us together sing
The hymn that's called Te D'um.”
— Wesley's Remarks on Mr. Hill’s Farrago Double-distilled.
Works, vol. xv. p. 109.
THE END.
I.ON Don :
Printed by A. Spottiswoope.
New-Street-Square.
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