CENTRAL CIRCULATION AND BOOKSTACKS The person borrowing this material is re¬ sponsible for its renewal or return before the Latest Date stamped below. You may be charged a minimum fee of $75.00 for each non-returned or lost item. Theft, mutilation, or defacement of library materials can be causes for student disciplinary action. All materials owned by the University of Illinois Library are the property of the State £tiy. by sJ.IU/uru From a scrua 2'rinipvMis/uimt/ieyearJ.765 K2 THE LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, A. M. FELLOW OF LINCOLN COLLEGE, OXFORD; IN WHICH ARE INCLUDED, THE LIFE OF HIS BROTHER, THE REV. CHARLES WESLEY, A. M STUDENT OP CHRIST CHURCH ; A JVD MEMOIRS OF THEIR FAMILY. COMPREHENDING AN ACCOUNT OF 2Wj t ©freat liclribal o£ Religion, IN WHICH THEY WERE THE FIRST AND CHIEF INSTRUMENTS. BY THE REY. HENRY MOORE, ONLY SURVIVING TRUSTEE OF MR. WESLEY’S MSS. According to this time it shall be said, “ What hath God wrought !” Numbers xxiii, 23. JYot by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit,” saith the Lord of Hosts. Zechariah iv, 6. Venturseque hiemis memores, aestate laborem Experiuntur, et in medium quaesita reponunt. Virgilii Georg. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. NEW-YORK, PUBLISHED BY N. BANGS AND J. EMORY, FOR THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, AT THE CONFERENCE OFFICE, 13 CROSBY-STREET. Azor Hoyt, Printer. 182G, -Ag.-fcJi g J S£qU CONTENTS BOOK THE FIRST, CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF MR. WESLEY’S FAMILY. CHAPTER I. His Great Grandfather and Grandfather Wesley, and his maternal Grandfather Annesley... CHAPTER II. An Account of Samuel Wesley, Senior CHAPTER III. Mrs. Susannah Wesley and her Daughters....... CHAPTER IV. The Rev. Samuel Wesley, Junior... BOOK THE SECOND. CHAPTER I. The Life of the Rev. John Wesley, from his Birth Account of his Brother, the Rev. Charles Wesley to the year 1735; with an 67 CHAPTER II. An Accra* of the Life of the Rev. Charles Wesley, A. M., and of his Bro- ther John, m continuation, until their Mission to Georgia. Mr. Wesley’s ® 1 Charles. .. i { CHAPTER III. fission to America, in which he was accompanied by his Brother 90 136 CONTENTS. V BOOK THE THIRD CHAPTER I. His Mission to America.... 14 $ CHAPTER II. Continuation of Mr. Wesley’s Mission to America..... 171 CHAPTER III. Mr. Wesley’s Return to England, and attaining, with his Brother, the true Christian Faith... 198 CHAPTER IV. The Progress and Labours of the Brothers, in maintaining the Faith of the Gospel........ 231 BOOK THE FOURTH. CHAPTER I. The Causes which led to the Introduction of Itinerancy and Field-preaching— The State of the Nation at that Time, with respect to Religion. 247 CHAPTER II. Introduction of Field-preaching—Difference with the Moravians, and Separation from them—Formation of a distinct Society—The Rules.254 CHAPTER III. Dispute respecting Absolute Predestination—Partial Separation of Mr. White- field—Receiving Lay-helpers—Progress of Itinerancy—The Power of Reli¬ gion manifested in the happy Death of several Members of the Society.2§6 CHAPTER IV. Progress of Religion—Curious Queries concerning the Methodists—Establish¬ ment of the Methodist Discipline—Death of Mrs. Wesley—Interesting Let¬ ter, illustrative of her Character....313 PREFACE Mr. Wesley is universally allowed to have been an extraordinary man. His long life, spent in great and uninterrupted labours, and his eminent success as a minister of the Gospel, in this and other countries, mark him out as a highly distinguished character. However, like all eminent men, he paid to the public the usual tax of censure. Many were his enemies, and many the aspersions thrown out against him. But he rose above them all; and the general voice at length confessed, that he was free from vice, and a man of real virtue and piety. His death put an end even to that favourite accusation, “that he was amassing riches by his influence over his societies:” For he died worth nothing except his books, and left even these burdened with a heavy debt. It is therefore reasonable to suppose, that a History of the Life and Labours of this great and good man will be acceptable to the public, and especially to the truly religious of every denomination. Some, who have been acquainted with Mr. Wesley, and have read his printed Journals, may perhaps think, that no other account of him is needful; and that his own writings are abundantly sufficient to enable the public to form a just estimate both of the man, and of the great work in which he was engaged. This was the decided and avowed opinion of the compiler of these volumes, immediately after the death of their venerable subject. Mr. Wesley had so regularly detailed the occurrences and labours of his whole life, and his doctrines and motives so largely appear in his own writings, that it was feared the subject, if undertaken by any other, would, as Cicero said concerning Caesar’s Commentaries, but mar the beauty and weaken the effect of the whole. This opinion, however, was soon relinquished. It was quickly announced, that a Life of Mr. Wesley, by Mr. John Hampson, junior, afterward Rector of Sunderland, was then in the press. He had intended to publish it during the life of the Founder of Methodism; on whose unexpected decease, all publicity was given to the intended work. Mr. Hampson’s motives could not be mistaken. He had been in connexion with Mr. Wesley for some years as a preacher of the Gospel, having been introduced by his father, an old Itinerant, and received with that charity, but not with that caution, which Mr. Wesley usually displayed. Indeed, this young man was the first instance of a preacher’s irregular admittance into the Yol. I. 2 VI PREFACE. Connexion. Mr. Wesley had cause to be dissatisfied with the father for a considerable time before, on account of his avowed democratic principles ;* and, in the issue, had still less cause for satisfaction in the son. But he remembered that Divine direction, “ Judge nothing before the time,” and behaved to them with his wonted kindness. That “time” soon arrived. The Deed of Declaration, which is now well known, will be considered in its proper place: By it the Chapels throughout the Methodist Connexion obtained a legal settlement, one hundred Preachers being enrolled by name, in the Court of Chancery, as The Conference, to whom the right of appointing per¬ sons to occupy the pulpits was, by the Trust-Deeds of those chapels, specially secured. In filling up that document, the names of both the Hampsons, father and son, were omitted. This greatly offended the elder Hampson, who strove to make a party against the Deed; and the son naturally partook of the feeling in which his father indulged. But that attempt failed; and Mr. Wesley affectionately consented to receive an apology at the following Conference, chiefly through the intercession of Mr. Fletcher, so that the father and son were again appointed to circuits. The elder Hampson, however, departed from his circuit before the end of the year, and accepted an offer to superintend a school in the county of Kent. About the same time the young man listened to a proposal from some pious gentlemen, who had formed an association for introducing religious young men into the ministry in the Church of England; and having received the rudiments of a classical education in Mr. Wesley’s school at Kings wood, he was sent by them to Oxford. They both addressed letters of resignation to Mr. Wesley, which were read to him in course, by the writer of these Memoirs. The father wrote under a strong feeling of resentment, and displayed many of his old principles. The young man wrote with more mildness, and expressed some grateful acknowledgments, of the many benefits which he had received ; but it was very apparent that he thoroughly partici¬ pated in the irritation of the father. Quite enough was said by both, about the arbitrary power exercised by Mr. Wesley ;f who took little notice of these letters at first, only saying to me, “You see the strength of the cause.” But he was afterwards much moved, when he consider¬ ed the mischief that might ensue; and said with some warmth, “ I have * It is not exactly certain to what extent the Biographer intended this phrase to be applied. It is probable, however, that it has no reference to any regular system of representative government, such as is established by our own happy constitution; but to certain loose, disor¬ ganizing principles of a very different character, which are known, in some instances, to have prevailed in England.— Am. Ed. f Mr. Wesley’s arbitrary power, so called, was exercised, from first to last, in keeping hie associates to that work of God, that wholly religious design and employment, which they all professed to embrace as their duty and calling, when they joined him: And from this he certainly would not consent that any of them should swerve. In every thing else, he was, even by their own account, a father, and a friend. PREFACE. been too tender of these men. You should have opposed my receiving them again. You know I halt on that foot.” That Mr. Hampson’s Life of Mr. Wesley would not be a friendly one ? was easily augured; and the perusal of it fully justified the supposition. It was the “ amende honourable” made to the Church into which, when he wrote, he was about to enter as a Minister. But, I believe, none of those from whom he had departed expected to see laboured dissertations introduced into the Memoir, with an evident purpose to overthrow thos§ doctrines of the Gospel which he had formerly professed to believe, and the power of which he must have professed to experience, before he could be admitted into that Connexion of which Mr. Wesley was the head! He was constrained, however, as all others have been, to acknowledge the great virtues and talents of the man, whom it was the design of his book to lessen in the estimation of the public. Mr. Wesley had devised by Will all his Manuscripts to “ Thomas Coke, Dr. Whitehead, and Henry Moore, to be burnt, or published, as they should see good.” At the period of his decease, Dr. Coke was in America, and Mr. Moore was fully engaged as an Itinerant. Dr. Whitehead resided in London, and was at that time a Local Preacher, acting under the direction of Mr. J. Rogers, the Superintendent of the Circuit. Dr. Whitehead had been an Itinerant Preacher for some years. He then married and settled in business at Bristol. From thence he removed to Wandsworth, in the vicinity of London, and opened a school. He there became acquainted with the late Dr. Lettsom, two of whose sons were his pupils. Under the Doctor’s direction, he studied physic, and by his recommendation he obtained from the late Mr. Barclay, an eminent Quaker, the appointment of guardian to his son, who was pur¬ suing his studies at Leyden in Holland. Mr. Whitehead himself at the same time completed his own studies in that University, and returned to England with the diploma of Doctor of Medicine. He had, some time before, joined the Society of Quakers ; and, by their influence chiefly, he obtained the situation of Physician to the London Dispensary. After a few years, he again joined the Methodist Society, and was received by Mr. Wesley with his usual kindness. The rumour of the intended publication of Mr. Hampson’s Memoirs decided Mr. Wesley’s friends to publish a Life of him, for the benefit of that charity to which he had bequeathed all his literary property. At a meeting held by the Preachers for the purpose of giving effect to this determination, at which Mr. Wesley’s Executors, and other friends, were present, it was proposed by Mr. Rogers, that Dr. Whitehead should compile a Life of Mr. Wesley, from his published Journals, and other Documents in print and manuscript, for which he should receive One Vlll PREFACE. Hundred Guineas, as a remuneration fon his trouble and loss of time. To this proposal, Dr. Whitehead cheerfully acceded, and it was unani¬ mously adopted as the resolution of the Meeting. The manuscripts were also deposited with him, under an express stipulation that they should be examined according to the Will of the Testator, previously to any of them being published. At the following Conference this agree¬ ment was confirmed in every particular, and Dr. Whitehead was appointed a member of the Book Committee in London. He had now an opportunity of proving the sincerity of his attachment to his old friends, and to the cause which, with various changes, he had first and last espoused. This opportunity he lost. His reputed friends considered his engagement respecting the life of Mr. Wesley, as the effect of weakness : and he was told, “ that he ought not to regard it; that the work would produce a great sum of money; that he might realize Two Thousand Pounds by it; and that, to be thus employed for so small a sum as One Hundred , would be an act of injustice to himself and his family.” The Doctor unhappily listened to this advice, and fell into the temptation. To the astonishment of those who were imme¬ diately concerned in this affair, he declared, “ that he would write the Life of Mr. Wesley as an independent man; that the copy-right should be solely his own; and that, if it should be printed at the Office of the Conference, he would have half of the clear profits.” But that which constituted his indelible dishonour, was his absolute refusal to suffer the manuscripts, with which he had been intrusted, to be examined according to the Will of the Testator. The effrontery and injustice of the man Utterly confounded those with whom he had entered into the former engagements. It must needs be, considering what human nature is, that offences should come . Every religious society, however pure in its origin, has had, after some time, its offended and prejudiced members. The Doctor’s advi¬ sers were of this description. He had listened to them, and departed from simplicity and rectitude. They now embarked with him in the design to which they had given birth, and formed themselves into a “ Committee to advise, support, and defend Dr. Whitehead.” A party was thus formed, which troubled and divided the Society in London for a considerable time: and many were hurt by the contention. The Preachers and those who supported them in their just and benevolent views, laboured to bring the Doctor to a better mind ; but their efforts were in vain. Nothing but a suit in Chancery would do, and this could not be safely undertaken, without the consent of the Conference. No course therefore seemed to remain, except that of publishing a Life of Mr. Wesley, to be compiled by the two remaining Trustees of his Manuscripts. This was accordingly performed, without the smallest PREFACE. IX personal emolument to them, and with a success which was beyond their most sanguine expectations. Nothing was introduced into that Life to give even a hint of the unhappy dispute which had arisen. It was not expected, however, that Dr. Whitehead would follow this pacific example. His character had been awfully compromised ; and, under a feeling of the need of self-de¬ fence, he lost no opportunity of defaming the Preachers in the Memoirs which he gave to the world. Although a known Dissenter in principle, he assumed the language and sentiments of a High-Church man, and laboured in that way to exalt the character of Mr. Charles Wesley, at the expense of his brother, and of the Itinerant Preachers. He is par¬ ticularly sarcastic and bitter in treating of Mr. Wesley’s giving a regular ministry, by Ordination with imposition of hands, to the Societies in America after their political independency had been acknowledged by the mother-country. Among gamblers, it is said, the loser is considered as having a privilege to rail: the Doctor had a feeling somewhat similar to this, added to the party spirit by which he was influenced. He had been much pleased with Mr. Wesley’s exercise of that power in his Societies ; and had applied to him, through the compiler of the present work, requesting to receive ordination from his hands, and to be appointed a Superintendent. He engaged, in that case, to relinquish the Dispen¬ sary and his medical practice, and to come out into the work of the ministry as at the beginning. As I felt an ardent wish to serve my friend in what I esteemed to be his best interests, I accordingly informed Mr. Wesley of the Doctor’s request, adding my own to it. Mr. Wesley replied to every part of my letter except that which concerned the Doctor; on this point not a word was written. Hoping, with the Doctor, that the omission was to be attributed to forgetfulness, I wrote again, and strongly repeated the former request. The answer was as before,—» a total silence on that point. The Doctor’s disappointment was extreme. I believe, at that time, he sincerely desired to resume what he consi¬ dered to be the call of God, given in his best days; but he would not undertake the work again without Ordination. Mr. Wesley loved the man ; but he knew his versatility, and would not trust him again with so important an office. I have now lying before me a minute account of all these transactions, the publication of which I hope will never be required. It is needful, however, that I should state thus much respecting the Doctor, as I shall be obliged to animadvert on many parts of the Memoirs which he has published. His book is still extant, and should be answered, though he himself is no longer accountable to men. When Dr. Whitehead had made such use of Mr. Wesley’s papers as he thought proper, he returned them to the Chapel-house in the City X PREFACE. Road, in the year 1796. But those into whose hands they tell, seem to have had no more regard to Mr. Wesley’s will than the Doctor himself. The trustees of Mr. Wesley’s manuscripts were thus again deprived of many valuable documents, which would have made this Life more com¬ plete. So easy is it to follow a bad example! So light does trespass appear, when once the hedge is broken! Upon my expostulating with those who acted thus, the papers and manuscript books that remained, were sent to me ; but none of those which had been thus unjustly taken away have to this day been restored. Wherever they are found, they belong to me; and those which have been published, either by Dr. Whitehead, or any other person, are my property, which I shall freely use, according to my best judgment. Among those which have been restored to me, there are several documents, which are highly useful in such a work, and have never yet been printed. A Life of Mr. Wesley, as full as possible, without being tedious, seems now to be a desideratum, especially since the strange Memoir lately published by Robert Southey, Esq., Poet Laureate. Concerning that production, it may be thought that little need be said, as it has been an ample subject of animadversion in various publications, and has been ably reviewed by Mr. Watson. It has indeed been generally acknow¬ ledged, by competent judges of religious biography, that the names of Wesley and of Southey were never designed to be joined together in the same sentence. But Mr. Southey is, to use the words of Johnson, a writer by trade,—an able and industrious servant of all work. His industry, indeed, is conspicuous and laudable. It has been said, and, we believe, with truth, that Mr. Southey exerts himself beyond almost any writer, to collect every thing which bears on his undertaking. He lays the whole world of letters under contribution, for facts, images, and arguments, until every magazine of information is utterly exhausted. He has thus given such a portrait of Mr. Wesley, and of the eminent characters connected with him, as has astonished both the religionists and the skeptics of the present age. They were not prepared to see religion in its peace, power, and purity, as set forth not only in the writings of Mr. Wesley, but of the Fathers of the Church of England, described as a mental disease of the most pitiable description; which, nevertheless, excited the subjects of it to the most extraordinary exer¬ tions for the good of mankind, (a good, not only acknowledged, but applauded by Mr. Southey,) and which continued without intermission during threescore years ! The work, too, in which these worthies were engaged, is owned to have been planned with a wisdom, and executed with an energy, that astonishes the biographer himself! He considers also the subject of his history, not only as a man of the greatest natural endowments, of the deepest and most solid erudition, of “ great views PREFACE. si and great virtuesbut as one whose sincerity in religion can never be questioned,—who “ loved the Lord his God with all his heart, and all his soul, and all his strength, and his neighbour as himself.”* He considers him not only as sacrificing ease, (and that of the most bewitching kind, learned ease,) honour, emolument, and all that the world admires and longs after, but as not counting even his life dear, provided he might be the instrument of making men the happy partakers of that kingdom of God, that righteousness , peace , and joy , for which the Eternal Son of God not only “ laid his glory by, and wrapped himself in our clay,” but gave his fife a ransom for the world, “ an offering and a sacrifice to God .” This great man is, however, represented by Mr. Southey, not only as labouring under the disease already mentioned, (which, with the perti¬ nacity of the cuckoo, he calls Enthusiasm, without once defining the term,) but as artful, politic, and ambitious beyond all men ;—spreading delight wherever he came by the buoyancy of his own happiness, and exciting all around to follow after every virtue and every grace that can adorn the human character; yet, at the same time, exciting the unedu¬ cated and uninformed part of the community to embark in the wildest schemes of religious fanaticism that could occupy the hearts of the children of men! Such a work might be expected to excite great interest; and the very high price of the book has not, I believe, prevented an extensive sale. It comes, however, a little too late to do much harm. Religion, even that religion which Mr. Southey denominates, “ the religion of the heart,” has been going onward for many years, according to the Divine intimation, from the least to the greatest . As of old when it began at Nazareth, taking its course upward, it has leavened our Universities and our Literary Societies ; given a religious character to many of our polite circles ; introduced an Evangelical ministry into the Established Chinch; quickened the Dissenters, by leading them to recur to their first principles ; and given us to see again saints in Caesar’s household . It is in vain that Mr. Southey is found the apologist of Warburton, Middleton, and even of Lavington— Who proved, and proved, and proved at last. When Wesley held the Proteus fast,— Christianity alone exists In Papists and in Methodists! The deplorable ignorance of evangelical truth which was manifest in those enemies to the rise of Methodism, sheltered itself under the * Mr. Southey does not know, that this love, through faith in an atoning Saviqpr, is the * Christian Perfection” against which he inveighs so much ? XII PREFACE, imposing character of great learning and high station ; and for a time u shed a baneful influence on the heavenly plant. But The day is broke which never more shall close. Methodism is now so recognised, as being, in truth, old Christianity, that it defies the renewed attack which has been made upon its doctrines in the pages of Mr. Southey. The history of an ambitious man is, in reality, the history of a hypocrite. Religious ambition is the worst of all hypocrisy ; for it is ambition acting in the name of God. In drawing the portrait of Mr. Wesley, Mr. Southey unites enthusiasm with ambition. In such a biographer, this course is perfectly natural. From his whole work it undeniably appears, that Mr. Southey knows nothing about religion, as purifying the deceitful and desperately wicked heart of man from ambition, with its concomitant evils. From this vicious passion, he seems very cordially to believe, no person ever was or can be saved; and even contemplates it as an original temper in man, which, conse¬ quently, his Maker cannot justly condemn. Hence arise his hatred, and contempt of the doctrine of Christian Perfection; which is in truth the only possible cure for that and all other corruptions of our fallen nature, by fixing in the heart that constant love of God and man which is the fruit of faith made perfect . Mr. Southey seems also not to know, that sincerity is essential to the character of an Enthusiast, and even to that enthusiasm which is unscriptural, and therefore, a real mental disease ; and that it is totally incompatible with ambition. There can be no doubt, from his statements, that he considers salvation from that Babel of the natural man, even by the atonement of the Son of God, and by the whole power of the Eternal Spirit, as promised to man through that atonement, to be only a creature of the imagination.—-Per¬ haps to a mere poetical creation,—to such a “ fine phrenzy” in drawing an ideal character,—Mr. Southey would not object: but he seems to have no conception that God ever did, or indeed ever could, realize such a character. “ The world knoiveth us not” says St. John, “ because it knew Him not ” Men will endeavour to account for the most stupendous works without God; and he who will not believe the Bible, will believe any thing against it. Gibbon, the Historian, thus tried to account for the con¬ version of the whole heathen world; which drew forth that sarcasm from Paley, that the religion of the Roman Empire was overthrown by a Jewish peasant! Mr. Southey accounts for Methodism in a similar way; and the mockers on the day of Pentecost accounted for that illus¬ trious display of the power of God the Spirit, in his poor and weak instruments, by imputing the manifest elevation of their minds to the operation of new wine! To every such dreamer we may reply, “ Sir, PREFACE. xii thou hast nothing to draw with , and the well is deep.”—-The mystery oj the faith , kept in a pure conscience , is indeed a mystery to Mr. Southey. God grant that it may not so continue! The founder of Methodism is frequently complimented by Mr. Southey. He supposes Mr. Wesley would have been the Founder of an Order, or perhaps the General of the Jesuits, if he had been in the Romish Church! Mr. Southey might imagine something similar respecting St. Paul, and that his “ ambitious, restless spirit” would in some such way have found employment and gratification, if Christianity, in its beauty and glory, had not intervened, and given him an opportunity to turn the world upside down. Mr. Wesley, as well as the Jewish bigot, had doubtless ability and courage quite sufficient to obtain that or any similar advancement. But they both laid their bigotry and narrow spirit at the feet of Him who “ tasted death for every man ,” and who commanded that his “ Gospel should be preached to every creature. 19 They both became Christians, and (with Mr. Southey’s good leave) Perfectionists. Their “ love was made perfect ; f1 and, walking in love they looked upon the guilty children of men with the bowels of Jesus Christ. But the path, which was prescribed by that love, utterly unfitted them for such preferment as Mr. Southey supposes. With the Apostle s Mr. Southey does not meddle : He is a Saint by prescription; and to attack him, would forfeit the Laureate’s reputation in the world. There is a halo round the converted persecutor, which repels the bold dissec- tor of characters. Bishop Warburton called Mr. Wesley, the Apo*stle’s “ Mimic,” adding the epithet “ paltryThis u mimic” seems fair game with Mr. Southey, and with his patrons the Booksellers. It is for that gentleman to consider, (and I hope he will seriously consider it,) that the day may come, when the friend and pupil of Hume, the bold Histo¬ rian of “ The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,” and the com¬ piler of “ The Life of Wesley,” may be considered as having been engaged in the same work,—as “ kicking against the pricks ,” and labouring (the latter unconsciously, we trust,) to save mankind from “ repentance towards God , and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ .” My duty lies plain before me. Mr. Wesley needs no panegyrist; and, indeed, for such an office I should be utterly incompetent. “ His witness is in heaven , and his record is on high. 11 But to rescue the character of such a man, and such labours, from interested, prejudiced,, or ignorant declaimers, is worth some pains. I must again state the plain facts; connecting and elucidating them, so as to give a clear view of the man, and of the work in which he was so long engaged. It is especially my duty to do this, since inquiry is much more excited; and being now in possession of ample materials, were I not to do it, I should be involved in the guilt of unfaithfulness both to the dead and the living* Vot. I 3 XIV PREFACE. Methodism (so called) identifies itself with Christianity in this striking peculiarity, that it is the same this day as it was in the beginning. Every attempt to mend it has utterly failed, and only served to show the ignorance and weakness of the attempt. A “ falling away” from Christianity was predicted, (2 Thess. ii, 3,) but yet “ the gates of hell prevailed not .”—The “ grain of mustard-seed ,” as our Lord describes his religion in its rise, “ became a great tree , so that the fowls of the air lodged in the branches; and many of them proved to be unclean and filthy birds” Exotics were planted around it, and the sacred tree was thus hidden for ages and generation^; but it remained the same. The plants that obscured it were esteemed decorations; the world loved them, and warred against all that objected to them. The keen eyes of Luther, and of some of his predecessors, discerned the plant of God’s own planting, and denounced the corrupt exotics. Mr. Wesley, after great toil, discovered it in England: and, much to the displeasure of those who had forgotten our martyred Bishops and Confessors, he planted scions from the sacred tree in every part of the land; and, though greatly increased in magnitude, they still exhibit the genuine fruits of the common stock from which they are derived. They eannot be improved. “ What a Legislator!” says Mr. Soutjiey. “ What plans!’* “ What a system 1” says another writer, “grown up so rapidly, and yet established so firmly! Its rules so admirably contrived for perpetuating and enlarging its influence ! A system so entirely religious, and founded on all*those grand principles which characterize the Gospel of Christ!” —And was this, we ask, the work of man? Yes, as the work recorded in the Acts of the Apostles was of man. The workmen in England had no more plan than the workmen in Judea. The Acts of the Apostles may with truth be called, the Acts of the Holy Ghost. Mr. Hampson, in his sarcastic way, says of Mr. Wesley, “ He called the work in which he was engaged, the work of God.” Mr. Hampson gave it the same appellation, while he was engaged in it, else he would never have been so employed. It rescued him as it did many others, from poverty and vice. But he soon grew weary of such a work, and, like Mark or Demas, chose one more easy and honourable. Had it, indeed, been the work of man, it would long since have come to nought; for the powers of earth and hell were banded against it. And it will continue, notwithstanding these renewed efforts, till it has Filled the earth with golden fruit, With ripe millennial love. The name of Wesley will not then be forgotten, neither will those of his coadjutors, some of whom Mr. Southey has condescended to notice, giving them, with the same inconsistency, their share of praise, and of the general opprobrium. They will shine among those “who have turned many to righteousness , as the stars for ever and ever.” FttEFACE. XV Mr. Southey observes, that “ in some of Mr. Wesley’s biographers, the heart has been wanting to understand his worth, or the will to do it justice.” This we must allow : I have with pain stated it in this pre¬ face, and acknowledge that, in this respect, Mr. Southey rises above them. But he adds, “others have not possessed freedom or strength of intellect to perceive wherein he was erroneous.” Mr. Southey, according to his own showing, has only discovered his Enthusiasm; and what that discovery amounts to, Mr. Southey has not informed us. When Mr. Fletcher, who was certainly one of the first men of his day, Mr. Southey’s great and almost impeccable favourite, did not, after a long and close intimacy, discover wherein Mr. Wesley, whom he always called “ Father,” was erroneous, it is no wonder that the evil was hidden from his common friends : and I confess, that I have neither the heart nor the head that could make the discovery. I can, however, remember the time when I had both ; when I could cry out, “Enthusiast!” “Fanatic!” as readily as Mr. Southey himself, (for whom therefore I feel much,) and could set the bubble virtue , and the pride of Churchmanship , against the Scriptures, and the real doctrines of our venerable Establishment; thus, “ speaking evil of the things ,” (the things of God!) “ which I knew not.” From this deep mixture of pride and ignorance I was delivered, by my long-suffering and gracious Redeemer, before I had any connexion with the people called Method¬ ists, or with their venerable Founder. But his writings and preaching, with the preaching of his sons in the Gospel, alone strengthened and settled me in that “ work of the Spirit of God,” which had delivered me from the “ deceivableness of unrighteousness ,” in which I was involved ; and confirmed me both in those great truths of the Gospel, and in that attachment to him and to his people, which the experience of nearly fifty years has not weakened, and which, I trust, will never be dissolved. Even now my state is so deplorable, that a wish to maintain and propa¬ gate those errors which Mr. Southey has discovered—to maintain that “ foolishness of preaching ” and “ believing” without which there can be no life, power, or peace,—is, I acknowledge, the chief cause of my again bringing before the public Memoirs of the Apostolic Wesley. A wish to maintain that faith, and to prevent the mischief which a denial of it might produce in the world, rather than a desire to eulogise the man who suffered the loss of all which the world could offer him, that he might possess and propagate this pure religion, is the sole motive which could impel me to undertake the task. Were the man only con¬ cerned, I could be well content that the world should judge from his own writings between him and his mistaken or interested biographers. The reader who can believe,—that this man of “ great views, great energy, and great virtues,” was stimulated by a mental disease to unpa- PREFACE. xvi ralleled labours for the good of mankind, and of those especially who most needed his labours,—and that he persevered in them for threescore years, with a success which astonishes and excites the admiration of the narrator;—the man who can believe all this, must himself, it should seem, have a mental disease, (alas, too common!) which even men of plain apprehension, but who read their bibles, may pronounce pitiable , and may even fear lest it should be. incurable. Mr. Southey, whatever he may have intended, has written to pull down the faith, though he exalts the man. I write to maintain the faith; the man, with all com¬ petent judges, will be his own eulogist. I will also acknowledge, I am not wholly without fear, that the very people raised up by Mr. Wesley’s labours, and by those of his coadjutors, who are distinguished by his honoured name, may be in some danger of stopping short of his faith, or of departing from it. If this fear should unhappily be realized, and a spurious race should in time succeed, it may be well to have a corrective of this kind at hand, without the trouble of a voluminous reference. We know what advantage the Ar¬ ticles, Liturgy, and Hbmilies of the Church of England gave to Mr. Wesley in maintaining the cause of truth. That the Pulpit and the Reading Desk should be at variance, is not a mere supposition ; and it is not impossible, (such is our opinion of human nature,) that Methodist pulpits may, in time, wander from the faith once delivered to the people: yea, that the people themselves may “ wish to have it so.” It may, therefore, serve the cause of truth to have it known, (when the hand that now writes shall be mouldering in the dust,) in this way also, what were the real views, doctrines, and practice of those who now rest from their labours ; that all who are in truth “ way-faring men” in the path that leads to God, “ may not err therein ,” either through the wisdom or the ignorance of men who “ know not God,” My wish and aim, in publishing these Memoirs, is to “ do good to all men: though especially to the household of faith,” But I am sen¬ sible, I shall need the candour of the Reader in detailing many particu¬ lars respecting these eminent men. It has been observed by a late writer, that “ the language of egotism cannot well be avoided where the Biographer speaks from his own knowledge, and aims to delineate the features of an original character from more immediate intimacy and observation and I may add. from personal and direct information. THE LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, A. M. BOOK THE FIRST, Containing an Account of his Family, CHAPTER I. HIS GREAT-GRANDFATHER AND GRANDFATHER WESLEY, AND HIS MATERNAL GRANDFATHER ANNESLEY. Accounts of Mr. Wesley’s ancestors are sufficiently numerous. For a hundred years past, and to the present day, honourable mention has been made of them, and their worth is acknowledged to be of no com¬ mon kind. I must, however, again present an account of them, but in a compressed form, to the readers of these Memoirs; that they may know the estimable root from which such a distinguished character as Mr. Wesley sprung, and may see that the work of God , which it is the design of these volumes to illustrate, did not originate with those ances¬ tors. His own family, as well as the greater part of the nation, at the time when Mr. Wesley entered on his vast labours, were, to use the words of the great Apostle, shut up to the faith which should afterwards be revealed. Mr. Wesley’s ancestors were eminent for learning and piety. Bar¬ tholomew Wesley, his great-grandfather, was educated in one of our Universities, and afterward held the living of Allington in Dorsetshire. When the Act of Uniformity passed in 1662, he was ejected from his living, choosing rather to suffer the loss of all things than violate his conscience. While in the University, he had applied himself to the study of Physic as well as Divinity,—a practice not then fallen into disuse. He was often consulted as a physician while he held his living; and, after his ejectment, devoted himself chiefly to the profession of medicine, though he still preached occasionally. It is said, that he used a peculiar plainness of speech, which hindered him from becoming a popular preacher. He lived several years after he was silenced ; but the death of his son, John Wesley, of whom I shall next speak, affected him so much, that he afterward declined apace, and did not long sur¬ vive him.* John Wesley, M. A., of New-Inn Hall, Oxford, was son of Bar¬ tholomew, and grandfather of the late Rev. John Wesley. He remem* * See Nonconformists’ Memorial, Vol. I, p. 442 18 THE ANCESTORS OF bered his Creator in the days of his youth; and, when a schoolboy, had a very humbling sense of sin, and a serious concern for his salvation. He soon after began to keep a diary, in which he recorded the remark¬ able instances of providential care over him, and of the Lord’s dealings with his soul. This method he continued, with very little intermission, to the end of his life. During his stay at Oxford he was noticed for his seriousness and dili¬ gence. He applied himself particularly to the study of the Oriental languages in which he made much progress. Dr. John Owen, who was at that time Vice-Chancellor, had a great regard for him ; which affords strong evidence both of his abilities and piety, at this early period of life. He began to preach at the age of twenty-two; and in May 1658, was sent to officiate at Whitchurch in Dorsetshire. Soon after the Restoration, some of his neighbours gave him a great deal of trouble, because he would not read the Common Prayer. They complained of him to the Bishop of Bristol, and laid many heavy things to his charge. Mr. Wesley, on being informed that the Bishop desired to speak with him, waited on his Lordship, and has recorded in his diary the conver¬ sation which arose on that occasion. As it displays the character of the man in a much clearer view than I can place it by any thing I am able to say, and as it reflects much honour upon the Bishop, considering the darkness of the times, I give it at large : Bishop. What is your name ? Wesley. John Wesley. B. There are many great matters charged upon you. W. May it please your Lordship, Mr. Horlock was at my house on Tuesday last, and acquainted me that it was your Lordship’s desire I should come to you: and on that account I am here to wait on you. B. By whom were you ordained ? or, are you ordained ? W. I am sent to preach the Gospel. B. By whom were you sent ? W. By a Church of Jesus Christ. B. What Church is that? W. The Church of Christ at Melcomb. B. That factious and heretical Church ! W. May it please you, Sir, I know no faction or heresy that Church is guilty of. B. No! Did not you preach such things as tend to faction and heresy? W. I am not conscious to myself of any such preaching. B. I am informed by sufficient men, gentlemen of honour of this ^county, namely, Sir Gerard Napper, Mr. Freak, and Mr. Tregonnel, of your doings. What say you ? W. Those honoured gentlemen I have been with; who being by others misinformed, proceeded with some heat against me. B. There are oaths of several honest men; and shall we take your word for it, that all is but misinformation ? W. There was no oath given or taken. Besides, if it be enough to accuse, who shall be innocent?—I can appeal to the determination of the great Day of Judgment, that the large catalogue of matters laid to me, are either things invented or mistaken. B. Did not you ride with your sword, in the time of the Committee of Safety, and engage with them ? THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 19 W. Whatever imprudences in civil matters you may be informed I am guilty of, I shall crave leave to acquaint your Lordship, that his Majesty having pardoned them fully, I shall waive any other answer. B. In what manner did the church you spake of, send you to preach? At this rate every body might preach. W. Not every one. Every body has not preaching gifts and preaching graces. Besides, that is not all I have to offer to your Lordship, to justify my preaching. B. If you preach, it must be according to order, the order of the Church of England, upon ordination. W. What does your Lordship mean by ordination ? B. Do not you know what I mean ? W. If you mean that sending, spoken of Romans x, I had it. B. I mean that: What mission had you ? W. I had a mission from God and man. B. You must have it according to law, and the order of the Church of England. W. I am not satisfied in my spirit therein. B, Not satisfied in your spirit! You have more new-coined phrases than ever were heard of! You mean your conscience, do you not ? W. Spirit is no new phrase. We read of being sanctified in soul, body, and spirit. B. By spirit there, we are to understand the upper region of the souk W. Some think we are to take it for the conscience : but if your Lordship like it not so, then I say I am not satisfied in conscience as touching the ordination you speak of. B. Conscience argues science, science supposes judgment, and judgment reason. What reason have you that you will not be thus ordained ? W. I came not this day to dispute with your Lordship; my own inability would forbid me so to do. B. No, no ; but give me your reason. W. I am not called to that office, and therefore cannot be ordained. B. Why have you then preached all this while ? W. I was called to the work of the ministry, though not to the office. There is, as we believe, vocatio ad opus, et ad munus B. Why may you not have the office of the ministry ? W. May it please your Lordship, because they are not a people who are fit subjects for me to exercise office-work among them. B. You mean a gathered church: but we must have no gathered churches in England ; and you will see it so. For there must be a unity without divisions among us : and there can be no unity without uniformity.—W ell then, we must send you to your church, that they may dispose of you, if you were ordained by them. W. I have been informed by my cousin Pitfield and others concerning your Lordship, that you have a disposition inclined against morosity. However you may be prepossessed by some bitter enemies to my person, yet there are others who can and will give you another character of me. Mr. Glisson hath done it. And Sir Francis Tulford desired me to present his service to you, and being my hearer, is ready to Acquaint you concerning me. * A call to the work; and a call to the office. so THE ANCESTORS OF B. I asked Sir Francis Tulford whether the presentation to Whit¬ church was his : Whose is it ? He told me it was not his. W. There was none presented to it these sixty years. Mr. Walton lived there. At his departure the people desired me to preach to them; and when there was a way of settlement appointed, I was by the Trus¬ tees appointed, and by the Triers approved. B. They would approve any, who would come to them, and close with them. I know they approved those who could not read twelve lines of English. W. All that they did I know not; but I was examined touching gifts and graces. B. I question not your gifts, Mr. Wesley; I will do you any good I can: But you will not long be suffered to preach, unless you will do it according to order. W. I shall submit to any trial you shall please to make. I shall present your Lordship with a confession of my faith, or take what other way you please to insist on. B. No, we are not come to that yet. W. I shall desire those severals to be laid together, which I look on as justifying my preaching. 1. I was devoted to the service from my infancy. 2. I was educated in order thereto at school, and in the University of Oxford. B. What age are you ? W. Twenty-five. B. No sure, you are not! W. 3. As a son of the prophets, after I had taken my degree, I preached in the country; being approved of by judicious able Christians, ministers and others. 4. It pleased God to seal my labours with success, in the apparent conversion of many souls. B. Yea, that is, it may be, to your way. W. Yea, to the power of godliness from ignorance and profaneness. If it please your Lordship to lay down any evidences of godliness, agreeing with Scripture, and that are not found in those persons intended, I am content to be discharged the ministry. I will stand or fall on the issue thereof. B. You talk of the power of godliness ; such as you fancy. W. Yea, to the reality of religion. Let us appeal to any common¬ place-book for evidences of graces, and they are found in and upon them. B. How many are there of them ? W. I number not the people. B. W here are they ? W. Wherever I have been called to preach. At Radpole, Melcomb, Tumwood, Whitchurch, and at sea. I shall add another ingredient of my mission:— 5. Wlien the church saw the presence of God going along with me, they did, by fasting and prayer, on a day set apart for that end, seek an abundant blessing on my endeavours. B. A particular church ? W. Yes, my Lord, I am not ashamed to own myself a member of one. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 21 B. Why, you may mistake the Apostles’ intent. They went about to convert heathens. You have no warrant for your particular churches. W. We have a plain, full, and sufficient rule for Gospel-worship ii the New Testament, recorded in the Acts of the Apostles, and in the Epistles. B. We have not. W. The practice of the Apostles is a standing rule in those cases which were not extraordinary. B. Not their practice, but their precepts. W. Both precepts and practice. Our duty is not delivered to us in Scripture only by precepts, but by precedents ; by promises, and by threatenings mixed. We are to follow them as they followed Christ. B. But the Apostle said, “ This speak I, not the Lord that is, by revelation. W. Some interpret that place, “ This speak I now by revelation from the Lord; not the Lord in that text before instanced concerning divorces.” May it please your Lordship, we believe that “ Cultus non institutus f est indebitus B. It is false. W. The second commandment speaks the same. “ Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven image.” B. That is, forms of your own invention. W. Bishop Andrews, taking notice of “ non facias tibif j* satisfied me that we may not worship God, but as commanded. B. Well then, you will justify your preaching, will you, without ordi¬ nation according to law ? W. All these things, laid together, are satisfactory to me, for my procedure therein. B. They are not enough. W. There has been more written in proof of preaching of gifted persons, with such approbation, than has been answered yet by any one. B. Have you any thing more to say to me, Mr. Wesley? W. Nothing; your Lordship sent for me. B. I am glad to hear this from your mouth; you will stand to your principles you say ? W. J intend it, through the grace of God; and to be faithful to the King’s Majesty, however you deal with me. B. I will not meddle with you. W. Farewell to you, Sir. B. Farewell, good Mr. Wesley. It is to be hoped that the Bishop kept his word. But in the beginning of 1662, Mr. Wesley was seized on the Lord’s-day as he was coming out of church, carried to Blandford, and committed to prison. Sir Gerard Napper was one of the most furious of his enemies, and the most forward in committing him ; but meeting with an accident by which he broke his collar-bone, he was so far softened, that he sent to some persons to bail Mr. Wesley, and told them, if they ivould not f he would do it himself. How various are the ways by which God brings men to a consciousness of their guilt! Mr. Wesley was thus set at * Worship not enjoined is not binding + Thou shalt not make to thyself. 4 VOL. I THE ANCESTORS OF 22 liberty, though bound over to appear at the next Assizes. He appeared accordingly, and came off much better than he expected. On this occa¬ sion the good man recorded in his diary the mercy of God to him, in raising up several friends to own him; inclining a solicitor to plead for him; and in restraining the wrath of man, so that the judge, though noted as a passionate man, spoke not an angry word. Mr. Wesley came joyfully home from the Assizes, and preached con¬ stantly every Lord’s-day till August 17th, when he delivered his farewell sermon to a weeping audience, from Acts xx, 32 : “ And now , brethren, I commend you to God , and to the word of his grace , which is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance among all them that are sanc¬ tified.” October the 26th, the place was declared vacant by an apparitor, and orders were given to sequester the profits ; but his people had given him what was due. On the 22d of February, 1663, he quitted Whit¬ church, and removed with his family to Melcomb ; upon which the cor¬ poration there made an order against his settlement, imposing a fine of 20/. upon his landlady, and 5s. per week upon himself, to be levied by distress. These violent proceedings forced him to leave the town, and go to Bridgewater, Ilminster, and Taunton, in which places he met with great kindness and friendship from all the three denominations of Dis¬ senters, and was almost every day employed in preaching in the several places to which he went. At length a gentleman, who had a good house at Preston, two or three miles from Melcomb, gave him free liberty to live in it without paying any rent. Thither he removed his family in the beginning of May, and there he continued while he lived. He records his coming to Preston with great thankfulness. By the Oxford Act he was obliged for a while to withdraw from Preston, and leave his family and people. Upon his coming to the place of his retirement in March, 1666, he put this question to himself, “ What dost thou here, at such a distance from church, wife, children, 5 ’ &c 1 In his answer, he sets down the oath required by Government, and then adds the reasons why he could not take it, as several ministers had done ; and particularly, that to do it, in his own private sense, would be but juggling with God, with the King, and with conscience. After he had lain hid for some time, he ventured home again, and returned to his labour among his people, and occasionally among others. But notwithstanding all his prudence, he was often disturbed; several times apprehended; and four times imprisoned,—once at Pool for half a year, and once at Dorchester for three months; the other confinements were shorter. He was in many straits and difficulties, but wonderfully supported and comforted, and many times very seasonably and surprisingly delivered. “ And having filled up his part of what is behind of the afflictions of Christ in his flesh, for his body’s sake, which is the Church, and finished the work given him to do, he was taken* out of this vale of tears to that world where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest, when he had not been much longer an inhabitant here below than his blessed Master, whom he served with his whole heart, according to the best light he had. The vicar of Preston would not suffer him to be buried in the Church. * I conjecture that he died about the year 1670. f Nonconformists’ Memorial, Vol. I, p. 478 to 486, THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 23 Samuel Annesley, LL. D., grandfather of the late Mr. Wesley, by the mother’s side, was bom at Killingworth near Warwick, in the year 1620. He was first cousin to the Earl of Anglesea. His grandmother, an eminently pious woman, dying before his birth, desired that the child, if a boy, might be called Samuel, assigning as the reason of her request, “ lean say I have asked him of the Lord.” In his infancy, he was strongly impressed with the thoughts of being a minister; and such was his ardour in pursuing this design, that when about five or six years old, he began a practice, which he afterwards continued, of reading twenty chapters every day in the Bible. This practice laid an excellent foundation of useful knowledge, for the future exercise of his ministry. He lost his father when four years old ; but his pious mother took great care of his education; nor did he want the means of obtaining the best instruction, as the paternal estate was considerable. At the age of fifteen he went to the university of Oxford, and took his degrees in the usual course. His piety and diligence at Oxford w r ere so much out of the common way of the place, that he attracted considerable notice. In 1644 he was appointed chaplain in the ship called the Globe, under the Earl of Warwick, then Lord High Admiral of England. He went to sea with the fleet, and kept a diary of the voyage. But he soon quitted the sea, and settled at Cliff in Kent. The minister of this place had been turned out for his barefaced encouragement of licen¬ tiousness, as Dr. Williams reports, by attending meetings for dancing, drinking, &c, on the Lord’s day. The people on this account were exceedingly fond of him, and greatly prejudiced against his successor, Dr. Annesley, who was a man of a very different character. When he first went among them, they rose upon him with spits, forks, and stones, threatening to destroy him. This was no small trial to a young man of about twenty-five years of age. But he remained firm as a rock in his Master’s cause; and as the people were not hardened against the evidence of gospel truth, he had some hopes of doing them good, not¬ withstanding their profaneness and violence. He therefore told them, that, “ Let them use him as they would, he was resolved to continue with them, till God had prepared them by his ministry to entertain a better; and solemnly declared, that when they were so prepared he would leave the place.” His labours were incessant, and the success of his preaching and engaging behaviour was surprising; so that in a few years, the people were greatly reformed, and became exceedingly fond of him. Though he enjoyed here an income of four hundred pounds per annum, yet he paid so conscientious a regard to his first declaration, that he thought himself bound to leave them, which he accordingly did, and the people who at his coming threatened to stone him, now parted from him with cries and tears, thus testifying their affection for him.—It is by no means clear, however, that he acted right in all this. In matters of a mere personal nature we may use much freedom : but where the souls of men are concerned, it is very different. A very signal providence directed him to a settlement in London in 1652, by the unanimous choice of the inhabitants of the parish of St. John the Apostle. Soon after he was made Lecturer of St. Paul’s; and in 1658 Cripplegate was made happy by his settlement there. He was a man of great uprightness, never regulating his religious profession by his secular interests. He was turned out of his Lecture, 24 THE ANCESTORS OF because he would not comply with some things which he deemed extravagant and wrong : he thought conformity in him would be a sin, and he chose to quit a full maintenance rather than injure his conscience. He was acknowledged by all parties to be an Israelite indeed, and yet he suffered much for Nonconformity; but such was then the spirit of party, that an angel from heaven would have been persecuted and abused, if he had appeared as a Dissenter. In his sufferings, God often inter¬ posed remarkably for him: One person died, while signing a warrant to apprehend him. He afterwards suffered, because he thought it his duty to bear witness for the old truth against Antinomianism. His integrity made him a stranger to all tricks or little artifices to serve his temporal interestand his charitable and unsuspecting temper some¬ times gave to those who practised them an opportunity to impose upon him. In ministerial labours he was abundant. Before he was silenced, he often preached three times a day ; during the troubles almost every day; afterwards twice every Lord’s-day. His sermons were instructive and affecting ; and his manner of delivery very peculiarly expressed his heartiness in the things which he spoke. His care and labour extended to every place where he might be useful. In some measure the care of all the churches was upon him. When any place wanted a minister, he used his endeavours to procure one for them : when any minister was oppressed by poverty, he soon employed himself for his relief. “ 0 ! how many places,” says Dr. Williams, “ had sat in darkness, how many ministers had been starved, if Dr. Annesley had died thirty years since ! He was the chief, often the sole instrument in the education as well as the subsistence of several minis¬ ters. The sick, the widows, the orphans, whom he relieved, were innumerable. As a minister, his usefulness was extensive, and God kept him faithful in his work to the last, for which he thus thanked Him on his deathbed : “ Blessed be God, I can say, I have been faithful in the ministry above fifty-five years.” Many called him father, as the instrument of their conversion ; and many called him a comforter. He had uninterrupted peace, and assurance of God’s love and favour, for above thirty years of the latter part of his life. This assurance had not one cloud in all his last sickness. A little before his departure, his desire of death appeared strong, and his soul was filled with the foretaste of glory. He often said, “ Come my dearest Jesus! the nearer the more precious, the more welcome.” Another time his joy was so great, that in an extasy he cried out, “ I cannot contain it : what manner of love is this to a poor worm ? I cannot express the thousandth part of what praise is due to Thee! We know not what we do when we offer at praising God for his mercies. It is but little I can give thee ; but. Lord, help me to give thee my all! I will die praising thee, and rejoice that others can praise thee better. I shall be satisfied with thy likeness; satisfied! satisfied ! Oh ! my dearest Jesus, I come!” Thus departed this excellent man, December 31, 1696, in the 77th year of his age ; leaving us an example how to live and how to die. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 25 CHAPTER II. SAMUEL WESLEY, SENIOR. Mr. John Wesley, of whom I have spoken above, left two sons, Matthew and Samuel. Matthew, following the example of his grand¬ father, studied physic, and made a fortune by his practice.* Samuel, the father of the late Mr. John Wesley, was born about the year 1662, or perhaps a little earlier; but he could not, I think, have been more than eight or nine years old when his father died. The first thing that shook hie attachment to the Dissenters was, a defence of the death of King Charles the First; and, afterwards, the proceedings of the Calf’s Head Club.')* These things shocked him : and though it is certain, that many of the Dissenters disapproved of the King’s death, and that ftie proceedings of a Club ought not to be attributed to a large body of men, who had no connexion with the members of it, and differed greatly in opinion from them ; yet they had such an effect upon his mind, that he separated himself from the Dissenting interest while yet a boy,—as appears from the following lines in his son’s elegy upon him: With opening life his early worth began; The boy misleads not, but foreshows the man. Directed wrong, though first he miss’d the way, Train’d to mistake, and disciplined to stray : - Not long—for reason gilded error’s night, And doubts well-founded shot a gleam of light. He spent some time at a private academy, before he went to the Uni¬ versity ; but where, it is not said. About the age of sixteenJ he walked to Oxford, and entered himself of Exeter College. He had now only two pounds sixteen shillings ; and no prospect of future supplies, but from his own exertions. By assisting the younger students, and in¬ structing any who chose to employ him, he supported himself till he took his Bachelor’s degree, without any preferment, or assistance from his friends, except five shillings. This circumstance does him great honour, and shows him to have been a young man of wonderful diligence and resolution. He then went to London, having increased his little, stock to Ten Pounds Fifteen Shillings. He was there ordained Dea¬ con, and obtained a curacy, which he held one year, when he was appointed chaplain on board the fleet. This situation he held one year only, and then returned to London, and served a cure for two years. During this time he married, and his wife brought him a son. In this period he wrote several pieces, which brought him into notice and esteem, and a small living was given him in the country. He was soon after strongly solicited by the friends of King James II to support the mea¬ sures of the Court in favour of Popery, with promises of preferment if * I shall afterwards insert some fine Verses on the death of this gentleman, by his niece, Mrs. Wright. f Notes of Samuel Wesley to his Elegy on his Father. j Mr. Southey disputes this, and brings forward extracts from the Registers of Exeter Col¬ lege to prove, that he must have been “ two-and-twenty.” But, as the name is spelt West- ley, in those entries, and in the person's own signature, it is more reasonable to suppose it was another person, than that his son, who says he was but sixteen , was mistaken 26 THE ANCESTORS OF he would comply with the King’s desire. But he absolutely refused to read the King’s Declaration; and though surrounded with courtiers, soldiers, and informers, he preached a bold and pointed discourse against it from Daniel iii, 17, 18.-—“ If it be so , our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace , and he will deliver us out of thine hand ,, O King. But if not, be it known unto thee , O king , that we will not serve thy gods , nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.” His son Samuel describes this circumstance in the fol¬ lowing lines : When zealous James, unhappy, sought the way To ’stablish Rome by arbitrary sway; In vain were bribes shower’d by the guilty crown, He sought no favour, as he fear’d no frown. Secure in faith, exempt from worldly views, He dared the Declaration to refuse: Then from the sacred pulpit boldly show’d Th| dauntless Hebrews, true to Israel’s God, Who spake, regardless of their King’s commands, “ The God we serve can save us from thy hands ; If not, O Monarch, know we choose to die, Thy gods alike and threat’nings we defy; No power on earth our faith has e’er controll’d, * We scorn to worship idols, though of gold.” Resistless truth damp’d all the audience round, The base informer sicken’d at the sound; Attentive courtiers conscious stood amazed, Arid soldiers silent trembled as they gazed. No smallest murmur of distaste arose, Abash’d and vanquish’d seem’d the Church’s foes. So, when like zeal their bosoms did inspire, » • The Jewish martyrs walk’d unhurt in fire. In this instance of integrity and firmness of mind, Mr. Wesley has given us an unequivocal proof, that a person of High Church principles may be a true friend to the Protestant cause, and the liberty of the sub¬ ject. It is evident, that he as much disliked the arbitrary proceedings of King James, as the religion which he endeavoured to introduce. When the Revolution took place in 1688, Mr. Wesley most cordially approved of it, and was the first who wrote in its defence. This work he dedicated to Queen Mary,* who, in consequence of it, gave him the living of Epworth in Lincolnshire, about the year 1693 ; and in 1723 he was presented to the living of Wroote, in the same county, in addition to Epworth. Mr. Wesley held the living of Epworth upwards of forty years. His abilities would have done him credit in a more conspicuous situation; and had Queen Mary lived much longer, it is probable that he would not have spent so great a part of his life in such an obscure corner of the kingdom. In the beginning of the year 1705, he printed a poem on the Battle of Blenheim ; with which the Duke of Marlborough was so well pleased, that he made him chaplain to Colonel Lepelle’s regiment, which was to stay in England some time. In consequence of the same poem, a noble Lord sent for him to London, promising to procure him a prebend. But, unhappily, he was at this time engaged in a contro¬ versy with the Dissenters, who, in the first part of Queen Anne’s reign, had a very powerful influence in both Houses of Parliament, and at Court; and were then preparing to present a petition to the House of * MS. paper? THE REV. JOHN WESLEV, 27 Lords, praying for justice against the authors of several pamphlets written in opposition to them, and against Mr. Wesley in particular: but they were dissuaded from taking this step by two members of that House. They had, however, interest enough to hinder Mr. Wesley from obtain¬ ing a prebend’s stall; and they soon also worked him out of the chaplain¬ ship of the regiment, and brought several other very severe sufferings upon him and his family. I believe it was at this time, while residing in London, as Mr. J. Wesley informed me, that he happened to go into a coffeehouse to obtain some refreshment. There were some gentlemen in a box at the other end of the room; one of whom, an officer of the Guards, swore dreadfully. Mr. Wesley saw that he could not speak to him without much difficulty; he therefore desired the waiter to bring him a glass of water. When it was brought, he said aloud, “ Carry it to that gentle¬ man in the red coat, and desire him to wash his mouth after his oaths.” The officer rose up in a fury ; but the gentlemen in the box laid hold of him, one of them crying out, “ Nay, Colonel! you gave the first offence. You see the gentleman is a clergyman. You know it is an affront to swear in his presence.” The officer was thus restrained, and Mr. Wesley departed. Some years afterwards, being again in London, and walking in St. James’s Park, a gentleman joined him, who, after some conversation, inquired if he recollected having seen him before ? Mr. Wesley replied in the negative. The gentleman then recalled to his remembrance the scene at the coffeehouse, and added, “ Since that time, Sir, I thank God, I have feared an oath, and every thing that is offensive to the Divine Majesty ; and as I have a perfect recollection of you, I rejoiced at seeing you, and could not refrain from expressing my gratitude to God and you.”—“ A word spoken in season , how good is it /” As a Pastor, he was indefatigable in the duties of his office ; a constant preacher; diligent in visiting the sick, and administering such advice as their situations required; and attentive to the conduct of all who were under his care, so that every one in his parish became an object of his attention and concern. No strangers could settle there, but he presently knew it, and made himself acquainted with them. We have a proof of this from a letter he wrote to the Bishop of Lincoln, after being absent from home a very short time.* “ After my return to Epworth,” says he, “and looking a little among my people, I found there were two strangers come hither, both of whom I have discovered to be Papists, though they come to church; and I have hopes of making one or both of them good members of the Church of England.” But this conscientious regard to parochial duties, did not divert him from literary pursuits. His favourite study seems to have been the original Scriptures, in which he was indefatigable ; a practice which must be commended in a minister of the Gospel, when joined with a proper attention to practical duties. The following extracts from two of his letters to his son, the late Mr. John Wesley, will give some idea of his diligence in this respect; and the second of them will show us his opinion of a subject on which learned men have been much divided: * Mr. C. Wesley’s Papers. 28 THE ANCESTORS OF “ January 26,1725. “ I have some time since designed an edition of the Holy Bible in octavo, in the Hebrew, Chaldee, Septuagint, and the Vulgate, and have made some progress in it. What I desire of you on this article is,— 1. That you would immediately fall to work, and read diligently the Hebrew text in the Polyglott, and collate it exactly with the Vulgate, writing all, even the least variations or differences between them.— 2. To these I would have you add the Samaritan text in the last column but one ; which is the very same with the Hebrew, except in some very few places, differing only in the Samaritan character, which I think is the true old Hebrew. In twelve months time, you will get through the Pentateuch ; for I have done it four times the last year, and am going over it the fifth, and collating the two Greek versions, the Alexandrian and the Vatican, with what I canget of Symmachus and Theodotian,” &c. Mr. John Wesley was in the twenty-second year of his age, not yet ordained, nor had he attained any preferment in the University, when he received this letter from his father. It gives a pleasing view of his progress in biblical learning at this early period of life, and shows his father’s confidence in his critical knowledge of the Hebrew Scriptures. The second letter was written in 1731, and very clearly states the old gentleman’s opinion of the translation of the Seventy, after a most labo¬ rious examination of it. “ I find in your letter an account of a learned friend you have, who has a great veneration for the Septuagint, and thinks that in some instan¬ ces it corrects the present Hebrew. I do not wonder that he is of that mind; as it is likely he has read Vossius and other learned men, who magnify this translation so as to depreciate the original. When I first began to study the Scriptures in earnest, and had read it over several times, I was inclined to the same opinion. What then increased my respect for it was,—1. That I thought I found many texts in the Scriptures more happily explained than in our own or other versions. 2. That many words and phrases in the New Testament, can hardly be so well understood without having recourse to this translation. 3. That both our Saviour and his Apostles so frequently quote it. These con¬ siderations held me in a blind admiration of the Septuagint; and though I did not esteem them absolutely infallible, yet I hardly dared to trust my own eyes, or think they were frequently mistaken. But upon read¬ ing this translation over very often, and comparing it verbatim with the Hebrew, I was forced by plain evidence of fact to be of another mind. That which led me to it was, some mistakes, (I think not less than a thousand,) in places indifferent, either occasioned by the ambiguous sense of some Hebrew words, or by the mistake of some letters, as Daleth for Resh , and vice versa , which every one knows are very much alike in the old Hebrew character. But what fully determined my judgment was, that I found, or thought I found, very many places which appeared purposely altered for no very justifiable reason. These at last came so thick upon me in my daily reading, that I began to note them down ; not a few instances of which you will see in the Disserta¬ tion I shall send you in my next packet. I would have you communi¬ cate it to your learned friend, with my compliments, earnestly desiring him, as well as you, to peruse it with the greatest prejudice you can : THE KEV. JOHN WESLEY. 29 and alter you have thoroughly weighed the whole, as I think the subject deserves, to make the strongest objections you are able against any article of it, where you are not convinced by my observations. For I should not deserve a friend, if I did not esteem those my best friends who do their endeavours to set me right, 'where I may possibly be mis¬ taken, especially in a matter of great moment.” Mr. Wesley was a voluminous writer. His Latin Commentary on the book of Job is a most elaborate performance; but the subject of this book, and the language in which the commentary is written, are but ill adapted to the generality of modem readers. As a poet, he has been censured by Garth and others; though when he failed, it was, • perhaps, as much owing to the difficulty of the subject as to a want of poetical abilities. In an early edition of the Dunciad, he and Dr. Watts were associated together, and involved in the same censure. But it is well known that the earlier editions of this poem were all surreptitious, in which the blanks were filled up by the mere caprice or envy of the editors, without any regard to the intention of the author. Thus, in a surreptitious edition printed in Ireland, the blank in the 104th verse of the first book was filled up with Dryden instead of Dennis, which, no doubt, was far enough from the intention of Mr. Pope. With the same propriety and good judgment , in the surreptitious editions, the names Wesley and Watts were inserted thus, W-ly, W-s, in the 126th line of the same book; but they never appeared in any edition published by Mr. Pope. The lines originally stood thus : A Gothic Vatican! of Greece and Rome, Well purged, and worthy Withers, Quarles, and Broome. In a London edition of the Dunciad, printed in 1729, there is the following note on the last of these lines, “ It was printed in the surrep¬ titious editions, W-ly, W-s, who were persons eminent for good life ; the one writ the Life of Christ in verse, the other some valuable pieces of the lyric kind, on pious subjects. The line is here restored according to its original.” Of Mr. Wesley’s larger poetical performances, his son Samuel passes the following candid and impartial judgment, in the elegy above men¬ tioned : Whate’er his strains, still glorious was his end, Faith to assert and virtue to defend. He sung how God the Saviour deign’d t’ expire, With Vida’s piety, though not his fire; Deduced his Maker’s praise from age to age, Through the long annals of the sacred page. Most of his smaller pieces are excellent. I shall insert the follow-* mg, both for its intrinsic beauty, and as a specimen of his poetical talents. Vol. I. o 30 THE ANCESTORS OT EUPOLIS’ HYMN TO THE CREATOR. THE OCCASION. Part of a (new) dialogue between Plato and Eupolis * the Poet, The rest not extant . Eupolis. —But is it not a little hard that you should banish all our fraternity from your new commonwealth ? What hurt has father Homer done, that you dismiss him among the rest ? Plato. —-Certainly, the blind old gentleman lies with the best grace in the world. But a lie, handsomely told, debauches the taste and morals of a people. Besides, his tales of the gods are intolerable, and derogate in the highest degree from the dignity of the Divine Nature. Eupolis. —But do you really think that those faults are inseparable from poetry ? May not the One Supreme be sung, without any inter¬ mixture of them 1 Plato. —I must own, I hardly ever saw any thing of that nature. But l shall be glad to see you, or any other, attempt and succeed in it. On that condition I will gladly exempt you from the fate of your brother poets. Eupolis. —I am far from pretending to be a standard. But I will do the best I can. THE HYMN.f Author of Being, Source of light, With unfading beauties bright, Fulness, goodness, rolling round Thy own fair orb without a bound; d Whether Thee thy suppliants call Truth or Good, or One, or All, Ei or Jao: Thee we hail. Essence that can never fail, Grecian or Barbaric name, Thy steadfast being still the same. Thee, when morning greets the skies. With rosy cheeks and humid eyes 5 Thee, when sweet declining day Sinks in purple waves away; Thee will I sing, O parent Jove, And teach the world to praise and love. Yonder azure vault on high, Yonder blue, low, liquid sky, Earth, on its firm basis placed, And with circling waves embraced, * Eupolis was an Athenian. He is mentioned several times by Horace, and once by Persius; and was in high estimation at Athens for his poetical compositions, though he severely lashed the vices of the age he lived in. He was killed in an engagement at sea between the Athenians and Lacedemonians, and his death was so much lamented at Athens, that they made a law, that no poet should go to battle. He lived about four hundred years before Christ. f it has been disputed whether Mr. Wesley or his daughter, Mrs. Wright, (of whom I shall speak hereafter,) was the writer of this poem. This dispute is of a very recent date, and does not appear to have any real foundation. Many years ago, the Critical Reviewers inserted some sarcasms against the poetry of the Methodists. Mr. John Wesley replied, and sent this poem to them as a specimen. The Reviewers so far did honour to the speci¬ men, as to insert it at large in their next number. Mr. Wesley always declared that it was written by his father. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, 31 All creating power confess, All their mighty Maker bless. Thou shak’st all nature with Thy nod, Sea, earth, and air confess thee God: Yet does Thy powerful hand sustain Both earth and heaven, both firm and main. Scarce can our daring thoughts arise To Thy pavilion in the skies; Nor can Plato’s self declare The bliss, the joy, the rapture there. Barren above Thou dost not reign, But circled with a glorious train ; The sons of God, the sons of light, Ever joying in Thy sight; (For Thee their silver harps are strung,) Ever beauteous, ever young, Angelic forms their voices raise, And through heaven’s arch resound Thy praise The feather’d souls that swim the air, And bathe in liquid ether there, The lark, precentor of the choir, Leading them higher still and higher, Listen and learn; th’ angelic notes Repeating in their warbling throats. And ere to soft repose they go, Teach them to their lords below: On the green turf their mossy nest, The evening anthem swells their breast. Thus like thy golden chain from high, Thy praise unites the earth and sky. Source of light, Thou bid’st the sun On his burning axles run; The stars like dust around him fly, And strow the area of the sky. He drives so swift his race above. Mortals can’t perceive him move; So smooth his course, oblique or straight. Olympus shakes not «dth' his weight. As the Queen of solemn Night Fills at his vas« h er orbs of light, Imparted lustre; thus we see The solar virtue shines by Thee. Eiresione,* we’ll no more Imaginary power adore; Since oil, and wool, and cheerful wine, And life sustaining bread are Thine. Thy herbage, O great Pan, sustains The flocks that graze our Attic plains; The olive, with fresh verdure crown’d, Rises pregnant from the ground ; At Thy command, it shoots and springs, And a thousand blessings brings. Minerva only is Thy mind, Wisdom and bounty to mankind. The fragrant thyme, the bloomy rose, Herb and flower, and shrub that grows On Thessalian Tempe’s plain, Or where the rich Sabeans reign, That treat the taste, or smell, or sight. For food, or med’eine, or delight, Planted by Thy parent care, Spring and smile and flourish there. * This word signifies a kind of garland composed of a branch of olive, wrapped about with wool, and loaded with all kinds of fruits of the earth, as a token of peace and plenty. The poet says, he will no more worship the imaginary power, supposed to be the giver of these things: but the great Pan, the Creator, from whom they all proceed. THE ANCESTORS OF O ye nurses of soft dreams, Reedy brooks'and winding streams, Or murmuring o’er the pebbles sheen, Or sliding through the meadows green, Or where through matted sedge you creep, Traveling to your parent deep; Sound His praise by whom you rose, That Sea which neither ebbs nor flows. O ye immortal woods and groves, Which the enamour’d student loves; Beneath whose venerable shade, For thought and friendly converse made, Famed Hecadem, old hero lies, Whose shrine is shaded from the skies, And through the gloom of silent night Projects from far its trembling light; You whose roots descend as low, As high in air your branches grow ; Your leafy arms to heaven extend, Bend your heads, in homage bend; Cedars and pines that wave above. And the oak beloved of Jove. Omen, monster, prodigy, Or nothing are, or Jove, from Thee : Whether various nature’s play, Or she reversed Thy will obey; And to rebel man declare Famine, plague, or wasteful war. Laugh, ye profane, who dare despise The threat’ning vengeance of the skies, Whilst the pious, on his guard, Undismay’d, is still prepared: Life or death, his mind’s at rest,’ Since what Thou send’st must needs be best No evil can from Thee proceed; ’T is only suffer’d, not decreed. Darkness k not from the sun. Nor mount the shades till he is gone Then does night obscene arise From Erebus, and fill the skies; Fantastic forms the air invade. Daughters of nothing and of shade Can we forget Thy guardian care, Slow to punish, prone to spare ? Thou break’st the haughty Persian’s pride, That dared old ocean’s power deride; Their shipwrecks strow’d th’ Eubean wave. At Marathon they found a grave. O ye blest Greeks, who there expired. For Greece, with pious ardour fired ! What shrines or altars shall we raise To secure your endless praise ? Or need we monuments supply, To rescue what can never die ? And yet a greater Hero far (Unless great Socrates could err,) Shall rise to bless some future day, And teach to live, and teach to pray. Come, unknown instructer, come! Our leaping hearts shall make Thee room : Thou with Jove our vows shall share. Of Jove and Thee we are the care. O Father, King, whose heavenly face Shines serene on all Thy race, We Thy magnificence adore, And Thy well-known aid implore; Nor vainly for thy help we call; Nor can we want—for Thou art all THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 33 This hymn may throw light on that passage of St. Paul, respecting the heathen, Rom. i, 21, &c. “ When they knew God , they glorified him not as God.— Wherefore God gave them up,” &c. Their polytheism was a punishment consequent upon their apostasy from the true God. Every good judge will readily allow that the author of these verses did not want talents for poetry. But wherever we fix his standing in the scale of learning and abilities, he still rises higher by genuine piety, and a firm attachment to justice, mercy, and truth, in various trying situations of life. His integrity was conspicuous, and his conduct uniform. As he had chosen God and his service for his own portion, he also chose the same for his children. When two of his sons, as we shall see, were pursuing a course of piety at Oxford, which threw their future prospects of preferment into a cloud not likely to be dissipated, he encouraged them in it, choosing rather that he and his children should suffer affliction with the people of God , than enjoy the pleasm'es of sin for a season. Few men have been so diligent in the pastoral office as he was; none perhaps more so. Though his income may be called small, and his family large, he had still something to give to those in distress. In conversation he was grave, yet instructive, lively, and full of anecdote ; and this talent the late Mr. John Wesley possessed in a high degree. His last moments were as conspicuous for resignation and Christian fortitude, as his life had been for zeal and diligence. His two sons, Mr. John and Charles Wesley, were both with him when he died, and the latter has given the following interesting account of his death, in a letter to his brother Samuel, dated April 30, 1735. 11 Dear Brother, —After all your desire of seeing my father alive, you are at last assured you must see his face no more till he is raised in incorruption. You have reason to envy us who could attend him in the last stage of his illness. The few words he could utter I saved, and hope never to forget. Some of them were, 1 Nothing is too much to suffer for heaven. The weaker I am in body, the stronger and more sensible support I feel from God. There is but a step between me and death; to-morrow I would see you all with me round this table, that we may once more drink of the cup of blessing, before we drink it new in the kingdom of God. With desire have I desired to eat this passover with you before I die.’ The morning he was to communicate, he was so exceeding weak and full of pain, that he could not without the utmost difficulty receive the elements, often repeating, ‘ Thou shakest me, thou shakest me;’ but immediately after receiving, there followed the most visible alteration. He appeared full of faith and peace, which extended even to his body; for he was so much better, that we almost hoped he would have recovered. The fear of death he entirely conquered, and at last gave up his latest human desires—of finishing Job, paying his debts, and seeing you. He often laid his hand upon my head, and said, 4 Be steady! The Christian Faith will surely revive in this kingdom; you shall see it, though I shall not.’ To my sister Emily he said, 4 Do not be concerned at my death : God will then begin to manifest himself to my family.’ When we were met about him, his usual .expres¬ sion was, 4 Now let me hear you talk of heaven.’ On my asking him whether he did not find himself worse, he replied, ‘ O my Charles, I feel a great deal; God chastens me with strong pain, but I praise him THE ANCESTORS OT 34 for it, I thank him for it, I love him for it.’ On the 25th his voice tailed him, and nature seemed entirely spent, when, on my brother’s asking, whether he was not near heaven, he answered distinctly, and with the most of hope and triumph that could be expressed in sounds, ‘ Yes, I am.’ He spoke once more, just after my brother had used the com¬ mendatory prayer; his last words were, ‘Now you have done all!’ This was about half an hour after six, from which time till sunset, he made signs of offering up himself, till my brother again having used the commendatory prayer, the very moment it was finished, he expired. His passage was so smooth and insensible, that notwithstanding the stopping of his pulse, and ceasing of all sign of life and motion, we continued over him a considerable time, in doubt whether the soul was departed or not. My mother, who for several days before he died, hardly ever went into his chamber but she was carried out again in a fit, was far less shocked at the news than we expected, and told us that now she was heard, in his having so easy a death, and in her being strengthened so to bear it.” It seems he received “ the witness of the Spirit ,” (which it is almost certain he never believed for till then,) in this holy ordinance, and the fruit evidently followed. He might have received it, as a penitent sinner, “ believing in the Son of God , who was made sin for him ,” before he attempted to teach others. But such was not the creed of that day. This good man, therefore, like his excellent partner, laboured in the fear of God, “ through a long legal night of nearly seventy years.” It is remarkable also, that it was in the Lord’s Supper that the Divine Witness was given to both, as we shall see by comparing this account with that to be hereafter given of Mrs. S. Wesley. It should not be omitted that the famous speech which was delivered in the House of Lords by Dr. Sacheverel, in the reign of Queen Anne, was composed by Mr. Samuel Wesley, as his son Mr. John Wesley informs us, in his History of England. We have thus seen two ministers of the Gospel die ; the one a Non¬ conformist, and the other a High Churchman. As they approach eternity, we see them dropping their singularities of opinion, and coa¬ lescing, and becoming one in Christ Jesus. Animated with the same spirit of devotion, they look up to God as their common Father, through the same Mediator and Saviour ; they praise him for the same mercies; and, looking forward to his kingdom and glory with the same humble confidence, both triumph over death. They give satisfactory evidence, that they were united to Christ, belonged to the same family, and were heirs of the same heavenly inheritance, notwithstanding the external differences in their mode of worship. These considerations should teach us to be careful, not to overvalue those things wherein they differed, nor to exalt the discriminating distinctions of parties into the rank of fundamental doctrines of Christianity. I HE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 35 CHAPTER III. MRS. SUSANNAH WESLEY, AND HER DAUGHTERS, Mrs. Susannah Wesley, the Mother of the late Mr. John Wesley, was the youngest daughter of Dr. Samuel Annesley, and a few years younger than her husband. Being educated in a truly religious family, she early imbibed a reverence for religion. Before she was thirteen years old, she had examined the whole controversy between the Dis¬ senters and the Established Church, and from that time became a member of the Church of England. She afterwards examined the evidences of natural and revealed religion with scrupulous attention, and under every article set down the reasons which determined her to believe it. Of these things she speaks thus, in a letter to her son, Samuel Wesley, dated October 11th, 1709. “ There is nothing I now desire to live for, but to do some small service to my children; that, as I have brought them into the world, I may, if it please God, be an instrument of doing good to their souls. I had been several years collecting from my little reading, but chiefly from my own observation and experience, some things which I hoped might be useful to you all. I had begun to correct and form all into a little manual; wherein I designed you should have seen what were the particular reasons which prevailed on me to believe the being of a God, and the grounds of natural* religion, together with the motives that induced me to embrace the faith of Jesus Christ; under which was comprehended my own private reasons for the truth of revealed religion. And because I was educated among the Dissenters, and there was something remarkable in my leaving them at so early an age, not being full thirteen, I had drawn up an account of the whole transaction, under which I had included the main of the controversy between them and the Established Church, as far it had come to my knowledge ; and then followed the reasons which had determined my judgment to the prefer¬ ence of the Church of England. I had fairly transcribed a great part of it, when you, writing to me for some directions about receiving the sacrament, I began a short discourse on that subject, intending to send them all together; but before I could finish my design, the flames con¬ sumed both this and all my other writings.! I would have you, at your leisure, begin to do something like this for yourself, and write down what are the principles on which you build your faith; and though I cannot possibly recover all I formerly wrote, yet I will gladly assist you what I can, in explaining any difficulty that may occur.” In one of her private meditations, she reckons the following among the signal mercies which God had bestowed upon her. “ Bom in a Christian country: early initiated and instructed in the first principles of the Christian religion : good examples in parents and several of the family : good books and ingenious conversation : preserved from ill accidents, once from a violent death: married to a religious orthodox * I believe there never was any such thing in the world, excepting only as it may mean that which was not written. + When theix house was burnt down, in February, 1709. 86 THE ANCESTORS OF man ; by him first drawn off from the Socinian heresy, and afterwards confirmed and strengthened by Bishop Bull.”* About the year 1700, she made a resolution to spend one hour morn¬ ing and evening in private devotion, in prayer and meditation; and she religiously kept it ever after, unless sickness hindered, or some abso¬ lutely necessary business of her family obliged her to shorten the time. If opportunity offered, she spent some time at noon in this religious and profitable employment. She generally wrote down her thoughts on different subjects at these times ; and great numbers of her meditations have been preserved in her own handwriting. I shall select a few, and make some extracts from others ; because they show us this excellent woman in her most private retirement, conversing without disguise with Him who knows the heart. “ Noon. To know God only as a philosopher; to have the most sublime and curious speculations concerning his essence, attributes, and providence; to be able to demonstrate his Being from all or any of the works of nature, and to discourse with the greatest propriety and eloquence of his existence and operations ; will avail us nothing, unless at the same time we know him experimentally ; unless the heart know’ him to be its Supreme Good, its only happiness ; unless a man feel and acknowledge that he can find no repose, no peace, no joy, but in loving and being beloved by him, and does accordingly rest in him as the centre of his being, the fountain of his pleasures, the origin of all virtue and goodness, his light, his life, his strength, his all; in a word, his Lord, his God. Thus let me ever know thee, O God!” “ Evening. The mind of man is naturally so corrupted, and all the powers thereof so weakened, that we cannot possibly aspire vigor¬ ously towards God, or have any clear perception of spiritual'things, without his assistance. Nothing less than the same Almighty power that raised Jesus Christ from the dead, can raise our souls from the death of sin to a life of holiness.—To know God experimentally is altogether supernatural, and w4iat we can never attain to, but by the merits and intercession of Jesus Christ, f By virtue of what he has done and suffered, and is now doing in heaven for us, we obtain the Holy Spirit, who is the best instructer, the most powerful teacher we can possibly have; without whose agency, all other means of grace would be ineffectual.—How evidently does the Holy Spirit concur with the means of grace ! And how certainly does he assist and strengthen the soul, if it be but sincere and hearty in its endeavours to avoid any evil, or perform any good!—To have a good desire, a fervent aspiration towards God, shall not pass unregarded. I have found by long expe¬ rience, that it is of great use to accustom one’s self to enter into solemn engagements with God against any particular sin; but then I would have them never made for a longer time than from morning till night, and from night till morning, that so the impression they make on the mind may be always fresh and lively. This was many years tried with good success, in the case of-. Glory be to thee, 0 Lord !” u Morning. It is too common with me upon receiving any light, or new supply of grace, to think, Now I have gained my point, and * In the manuscript it stands thus, B. B. which I believe is intended for Bishop Bull. f Though this pious woman could write thus clearly, she did not attain this true Christian faith till many years after THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 37 may say, * Soul, take thine easeby which means I think not of going any farther ; or else fall into dejection of spirit, upon a groundless fear, that I shall soon lose what I have gained, and in a little time be never the better for it. Both these are sins. The first proceeds from immo¬ derate love of present ease, and spiritual sloth : the other from want of faith in the all-sufficiency of my Saviour. “ Evening. If to esteem and to have the highest reverence for Thee ; if constantly and sincerely to acknowledge Thee, the supreme, the only desirable good, be to love Thee, I do love Thee! “ If comparatively to despise and undervalue all the world contains, which is esteemed great, fair, or good; if earnestly and constantly to desire Thee, thy favour, thy acceptance, Thyself, rather than any or all things thou hast created, be to love Thee, I do love Thee ! “ If to rejoice in thy essential majesty and glory; if to feel a vital joy o’erspread and cheer the heart at each perception of thy blessed¬ ness, at every thought that thou art God; that all things are in thy power; that there is none superior or equal to Thee, be to love Thee, I do love Thee !” Though Mrs. Wesley allotted two hours in the day for meditation and prayer in private, no woman was ever more diligent in business, or attentive to family affairs, than she was. Remarkable for method and good arrangement both in her studies and business, she saved much time, and kept her mind free from perplexity. She had nineteen chil¬ dren, ten of whom, at least, grew up to be educated ; and this duty fell upon her; and it was almost impossible for the children to have had a better instructer. From several things which appear in her papers, it seems to me that she had acquired some knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages in her youth, though she never makes any pretensions to it. She had studied human nature well, and knew how to adapt her discourse either to youth or age ; and without this, no person is properly qualified to instruct others. Her children were very early taught obe¬ dience to their parents, and to wait their decision in every thing they were to have or do. As soon as they could speak, they were taught the Lord’s prayer, and made to repeat it at rising and bed-time con¬ stantly. As they advanced, they were taught a short prayer for their parents, and some collects; a short catechism; and some portion of Scripture, as their memories could bear. They were early made to distinguish the sabbath from other days; and were soon taught to be still at family prayers, and to ask a blessing immediately after, which they used to do by signs before they could kneel or speak. Her method of teaching them to read was, I think, peculiar to herself, and deserves to be noticed. I shall give it in her own words, in a letter to Mr. John Wesley. “ None of them were taught to read till five years old, except Kezzy, in whose case I was overruled; and she was more years in learning, than any of the rest had been months. The way of teach¬ ing was this: the day before a child began to learn, the house was set in order, every one’s work appointed them, and a charge given that none should come into the room from nine till twelve, or from two till five, which were our school-hours. One day was allowed the child wherein to learn its letters ; and each of them did in that time know all its letters, great and small, except Molly and Nancy, who were a day and a half before they knew them perfectly; for which I then thought 6 38 THE ANCESTORS OF them very dull: but the reason why I thought them so was, because the rest learned them so readily, and your brother Samuel, who was the first child I ever taught, learnt the alphabet in a few hours. He was five years old on the 10th of February; the next day he began to learn, and as soon as he knew the letters, began at the first chapter of Genesis. He was taught to spell the first verse, then to read it over and over till he could read it off hand without any hesitation ; so on to the second, &c, till he took ten verses for a lesson, which he quickly did. Easter fell low that year, and by Whitsuntide he could read a chapter very well; for he read continually, and had such a prodigious memory, that I cannot remember ever to have told him the same word twice. What was yet stranger, any word he had learnt in his lesson, he knew wherever he saw it, either in his Bible or any other book, by which means he learnt very soon to read an English author well. “ The same method was observed with them all. As soon as they knew the letters, they were first put to spell, and read one line, then a verse, never leaving till perfect in their lesson, were it shorter on longer. So one or other continued reading at school-time without any intermis¬ sion ; and before we left school, each child read what he had learnt that morning; and ere we parted in the afternoon, what they had learned that day.” Mr. Wesley observes of his mother, that even she, as well as her father and grandfather, her husband and three sons, had been, in her measure, a Preacher of righteousness. As this is a remarkable cir¬ cumstance in her life, and shows her zeal and steadiness in doing good, I shall relate it a little more at large than Mr. Wesley has done, the original letters being now before me. Her husband usually attended the sittings of the Convocation; and on these occasions was obliged to reside in London for a length of time that was often injurious to his parish, and at an expense that was incon¬ venient to himself and family. It was on this business, I apprehend, that he spent so much time in London in the beginning of the year 1712. During his absence, Mrs. Wesley formed a little meeting at her house bn a Sunday evening, when she read a sermon, prayed, and conversed with the people who came for this purpose. She acquainted her husband of their meeting, who on account of the novelty and singularity of the thing, made some objections against it. Her answer is dated the 6th of February, 1712, in which she says, “ I heartily thank you for deal¬ ing so plainly and faithfully with me in a matter of no common concern. The main of your objections against our Sunday evening meetings, are, first, that it will look particular; secondly, my sex ; and, lastly, your being at present in a public station and character; to all which I shall answer briefly. “ As to its looking particular, I grant it does; and so does almost every thing that is serioug, or that may any way advance the glory of God, or the salvation of souls, if it be performed out of a pulpit, or in the way of common conversation : because, in our corrupt age, the utmost care and diligence have been used to banish all discourse of God or spiritual concerns out of society; as if religion were never to appear out of the closet, and we were to be ashamed of nothing so much as of professing ourselves to be Christians. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. t * 39 “ To your second, I reply, that, as I am a woman, so I am also mistress of a large family. And though the superior charge of the souls contained in it lies upon you, as head of the family, and as their minis¬ ter, yet, in your absence, I cannot but look upon every soul you leave under my care, as a talent committed to me under a trust by the great Lord of all the families of heaven and earth; and if I am unfaithful to Him or to you, in neglecting to improve these talents, how shall I answer unto Him, when he shall command me to render an account of my stewardship ? “ As these, and other such like thoughts, made me at first take a more than ordinary care of the souls of my children and servants ; so, knowing that our most holy religion requires a strict observation of the Lord’s day, and not thinking that we fully answered the end of the institution by only going to church, but that likewise we were obliged to fill up the intermediate spaces of that sacred time by other acts of piety and devotion, I thought it my duty to spend some part of the day in reading to, and instructing my family; especially in your absence, when, having no afternoon service, we have so much leisure for such exercises ; and such time I esteemed spent in a way more acceptable to God, than if I had retired to my own private devotions. Xi This was the beginning of my present practice: other people’s coming in and joining with us, was purely accidental. Our lad told his parents ; they first desired to be' admitted; then others who heard of it, begged leave also; so our company increased to about thirty, and seldom exceeded forty last winter; and why it increased since, I leave you to judge, after you have read what follows. “ Soon after you went to London, Emily found in your study the account of the Danish Missionaries ; which, having never seen, I ordered her to read to me. I was never, I think, more affected with any thing than with the relation of their travels ; and was exceedingly pleased with the noble design they were engaged in. Their labours refreshed my soul beyond measure, and I could not forbear spending a good part of that evening in praising* and adoring the Divine Good¬ ness for inspiring those good men with such an ardent zeal for his glory; that they were willing to hazard their lives, and all that is esteemed dear to men in this world, to advance the honour of their Master Jesus ! For several days, I could think or speak of little else. At last, it came into my mind : Though I am not a man, nor a minister of the Gospel, and so cannot be engaged in such a worthy employment as they were ; yet, if my heart were sincerely devoted to God, and if I were inspired with a true zeal for his glory, and did really desire the salvation of souls, I might do somewhat more than I do. I thought I might live in a more exemplary manner in some things; I might pray more for the people, and speak with more warmth to those with whom I have an opportunity of conversing. However, I resolved to begin with my own children; and accordingly I proposed and observed the following method : I take such a proportion of time as I can best spare every night, to discourse with each child by itself, on something that relates to its principal concerns. On Monday, I talk with Molly; on Tuesday, with Hetty; Wednesday, with Nancy ; Thursday, with Jacky; Friday, with Patty ; Saturday, with Charles ; and with Emily, and Suky together on Sunday. 40 THE ANCESTORS OF “ With those few neighbours who then came to me, I discoursed more freely and affectionately than before ; I chose the best and most awakening sermons we had; and I spent more time with them in such exercises. Since this, our company has increased every night; for I dare deny none who ask admittance. Last Sunday, I believe we had above Two Hundred, and yet many went away for want of room. “ But I never durst positively presume to hope, that God would make use of me as an instrument of doing good : The farthest I ever durst go was, It may be ; who oan tell? With God all things are pos¬ sible. I will resign myself to Him; or, as Herbert better expresses it, Only, since God doth often make Of lowly matter, for high uses meet, I throw me at his feet; There will I lie, until my Maker seek For some mean stuff, whereon to show his skill, Then is my time- And thus I rested, without passing any reflection on myself, or forming any judgment about the success or event of this undertaking. “ Your third objection I leave to be answered by your own judgment. We meet not upon any worldly design. We banish all temporal con¬ cerns from our society; none is suffered to mingle any discourse about them with our reading or singing. We keep close to the business of the day; and as soon as it is over, they all go home. And where is the harm of this? If I and my children went a visiting on Sunday nights, or if we admitted of impertinent visits, as too many do who think themselves good Christians, perhaps it would be thought no scandalous practice, though in truth it would be so; therefore, why should any reflect upon you, let your station be what it will, because your wife endeavours to draw people to church, and to restrain them, by reading and other persuasions, from their profanation of God’s most holy day, I cannot conceive. But if any should be so mad as to do it, I wish you would not regard it. For my part, I value no censure on this account: I have long since shook hands with the world, and I heartily wish l had never given them more reason to speak against me. “ As for your proposal of letting some other person read, alas ! you do not consider what a people these are. I do not think one man among them could read a sermon without spelling a good part of it; and how would that edify the rest? Nor has any of our family a voice strong enough to be heard by such a number of people. “ But there is one thing, about which I am much dissatisfied ; that is, their being present at family prayers. I do not speak of any concern I am under, barely because so many are present,—for those who have the honour of speaking to the great and holy God, need not be ashamed to speak before the whole world,—but because of my sex. I doubt, if it be proper for me to present the prayers of the people to God. Last Sunday I would fain have dismissed them before prayers ; but they begged so earnestly to stay, I durst not deny them.” In this, as in every other part of her conduct, Mrs. Wesley acted upon principle, and from mature deliberation. No person, perhaps, ever had a greater regard for the established order of the Church of England than she had ; but she considered her conduct in this instance as coinciding with the spirit and intention of that order—to reform the THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, 41 manners of the people, and to beget in them a reverence for the public worship. But, though she was satisfied of the propriety of her own conduct, she thought it her duty to abide by the decision of her husband. He had already written to her on the subject: and though he made some objections, yet, upon the whole, he seemed to approve of the meeting. But Mr. Inman, the curate, and two or three of his compa? nions, highly disapproved of it. and wrote to Mr. Wesley, complaining heavily, calling it a conventicle, &c. These representations had such an effect upon Mr. Wesley’s mind, that he wrote to his wife in a tone of disapprobation which he had not used before. Her answer, which is dated the 25th of February, is worthy of herself and of the cause in which she was engaged. “ Some few days since,” says she, 11 1 received a letter from you, I suppose dated the 16th instant, which I made no great haste to answer; because I judged it necessary for both of us to take some time to consider, before you determine in a matter of such great import¬ ance. I shall not inquire how it was possible that you should be pre¬ vailed on, by the senseless clamours of two or three of the worst of your parish, to condemn what you so very lately approved; but I shall tell you my thoughts in as few words as possible. I do not hear of more than,three or four persons who are against our meeting, of whom Inman is the chief. He and Whitely, I believe, may call it a conven¬ ticle ; but we hear no outcry here, nor has any one said a word against it to me. And what does their calling it a conventicle signify 1 Does it alter the nature of the thing 1 Or do you think, that what they say is a sufficient reason to forbear a thing that has already done much good, and, by the blessing of God, may do much more ? If its being called a conventicle, by those who know in their conscience they misrepresent it, did really make it one, what you say would be somewhat to the pur¬ pose ; but it is plain, in fact, that this one thing has brought more people to church, than ever any thing did in so short a time. We used not to have above twenty or twenty-five at evening service, whereas now we have between two and three hundred; which are more than ever came before to hear Inman in the morning. “ Besides the constant attendance on the public worship of God, our meeting has wonderfully conciliated the minds of this people towards us, so that we now live in the greatest amity imaginable ; and, what is still better, they are very much reformed in their behaviour on the Lord’s Day : and those who used to be playing in the streets now come to hear a good sermon read, which is surely more acceptable to Almighty God. “ Another reason for what I do .is, that I have no other way of con¬ versing with this people, and therefore have no other way of doing them good ; but, by this, I have an opportunity of exercising the greatest and noblest charity, that is, charity to their souls. “ Some families who seldom went to church, now go constantly; and one person who has not been there for seven years, is now prevailed upon to go with the rest. “ There are many other good consequences of this meeting, which I have not time to mention. Now, I beseech you, weigh all things in an impartial balance : on the one side, the honour of Almighty God, the doing much good to many souls, and the friendship of the best among whom we live ; on the other, (if folly, impiety, and vanity may abide in 42 THE ANCESTORS OF the scale against so ponderous a weight,) the senseless objections oi a few scandalous persons, laughing at us, and censuring us as precise and hypocritical; and when you have duly considered all things, let me . know your positive determination. “ I need not tell you the consequences, if you determine to put an end to our meeting. You may easily foresee what prejudices it may raise in the minds of these people against Inman especially, who has had so little wit as to speak publicly against it. I can now keep them to the church; but if it be laid aside, I doubt they will never go to hear him more, at least those who come from the lower end of the town; but if this be continued till you return, which now will not be long, it may please God that their hearts may be so changed by that time, that they may love and delight in his public worship so as never to neglect it more. “ If you do, after all, think fit to dissolve this assembly, do not tell me that you desire me to do it, for that will not satisfy my conscience ; but send me your positive command , in such full and express terms, as may absolve me from all guilt and punishment for neglecting this oppor¬ tunity of doing good, when you and I shall appear before the great and awful tribunal of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Inman , the Curate mentioned above, was something of an original. Upon Mr. Wesley’s return from London at one time, a conjplaint was made concerning his Curate, “ that he preached nothing to his congre¬ gation, except the duty of paying their debts, and behaving well among their neighbours.” The complainants added, “ We think, Sir, there is something more in religion than this.” Mr. Wesley replied, “ There certainly is : I will hear him myself.” He accordingly sent for Inman , and told him, that he wished him to preach the next Lord’s day, adding, “ You could, I suppose, prepare a sermon upon any text that I should give you.” The Curate replied, “ By all means, Sir.” “ Then,” said Mr. Wesley, “ prepare a sermon on that text, Heb. xi, 6. ‘ Without faith , it is impossible to please Him , i. e. God .’ ” When the time arrived, Mr. Wesley read the prayers, and Inman ascended the pulpit. He read the text with great solemnity, and thus began • “ It must be confessed, Friends, that faith is a most excellent virtue ; and it produces other virtues also. In particular it makes a man pay his debts as soon as he can.”—He went on in this way, enforcing the common social duties, for about a quarter of an hour, and then concluded. “ So,” said Mr. J. Wesley to me, “ my father saw it was a lost case.”—I think neither Mr. Southey, nor Bishop Lavington, would have entertained any fear of this man becoming an Enthusiast. Mrs. Wesley continued to discharge the duties of a wife and parent with the greatest diligence and punctuality. The letters she wrote to her sons, when at Oxford, and after they had left it, show her in the most amiable light, both for knowledge and piety. In 1735, she lost her husband, and afterwards divided her time between her children, till about the year 1739 ; from which period, she resided chiefly in London. It appears from all we have seen of Mrs. Wesley, that she was a woman really devoted to God; but it does not appear that she had a clear notion of justification, as distinct from sanctification. On the contrary, she seems to have confounded them together; and this hindered her from enjoying that full assurance of her state, and the THE 11EV. JOHN WESLEY. 43 peace and joy consequent upon it, which otherwise she would have had. When her two sons, Mr. John and Charles Wesley, began to preach the doctrine of justification by faith, in 1738, and many professed to be so justified, and to know the time when this change in their state took place, she mentions their notions as new, in a letter she wrote to her son Samuel, in November this year ;* but she had not then conversed with them on the subject, and therefore did not know what doctrines they taught, except from report. It has indeed been said, that she 44 lived long enough to deplore the extravagance of her sons and this asser¬ tion was founded on the letter above mentioned. But the following ex¬ tracts from three of her letters to Mr. Charles Wesley, will show us her opinion of the doctrine and conduct of her sons, more clearly than any thing which has yet appeared in print. “ October 19, 1738. 44 It is with much pleasure I find your mind is somewhat easier than formerly, and I heartily thank God for it. 4 The spirit of a man may sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear V If this hath been your case, it has been sad indeed. But blessed be God, who gave you convictions of the evil of sin, as contrary to the purity of the Divine nature, and the perfect goodness of his law! Blessed be God, who showed you the necessity you were in of a Saviour to deliver you from the power of sin and Satan, (for Christ will be no Saviour to such as see not their need of one,) and directed you by faith to lay hold of that stu¬ pendous mercy offered us by redeeming love ! Jesus is the only physi¬ cian of souls ; his blood the only salve which can heal a wounded con¬ science. It is not in wealth, or honour, or sensual pleasures, to relieve a spirit heavy laden and weary of the burden of sin : These things have power to increase our guilt, by alienating our hearts from God; but none to make our peace with Him, to reconcile God to man, and man to God, and to renew the union between the Divine and human nature. —No, there is none but Christ, none but Christ, who is sufficient for these things. But blessed be God, he is an all-sufficient Saviour ! And blessed be his holy name, that thou hast found him a Saviour to thee, my son ! Oh ! let us love him much, for we have much to be forgiven. 44 1 would gladly know what your notion is of justifying faith ; because you speak of it as a thing you have but lately obtained.” The second letter is dated December 6th, 1738. In it she says, 44 1 think you are fallen into an odd way of thinking. You say, that, till within a few months, you had no spiritual life, nor any justifying faith. Now this is, as if a man should affirm he was not alive in his infancy, because when an infant, he did not know he was alive. All, then, that I can gather from your letter is, that till a little while ago you were not so well satisfied of your being a Christian as you are now. I heartily rejoice that you have now attained to a strong and lively hope in God’s mercy through Christ. Not that I can think you were totally without saving faith before ; but it is one thing to have faith, # and another thing to be sensible we Jiave it. Faith is a fruit of the Spirit, and is the gift of God; but to feel, or be inwardly sensible, that we have true faith, requires a farther operation of God’s Holy Spirit. You say you have peace, but hot joy, in believing. Blessed be God for peace ; may this * Printed in Dr. Priestley’s Collection. 44 THE ANCESTORS OF peace rest with you. Joy will follow, perhaps not very closely, but it will follow faith and love. God’s promises are sealed to us, but not dated. Therefore patiently attend his pleasure ; he will give you joy in believing. Amen.” The third letter is dated December 27th, 1739, after she had come to reside chiefly in London. Here she enjoyed the conversation of her sons alternately, the one being always in town while the other was in the country. She now attended on their ministry, conversed with the people of their Society, became more perfectly acquainted with their whole doctrine, and seems heartily to have embraced it. Charles was in Bristol when she wrote this letter to him. She observes, “ You cannot more desire to see me, than I do to see you. Your brother,— whom I shall henceforward call Son Wesley, since my dear Sam is gone home,—has just been with me, and much revived my spirits. Indeed, I have often found that he never speaks in my hearing, without my receiving some spiritual benefit. But his visits are seldom and short; for which I never blame him, because I know he is well employed ; and blessed be God, he hath great success in his ministry. “ But, my dear Charles, still I want either him or you. For, indeed, in the most literal sense, I am become a little child, and want continual succour. ‘ As iron sharpeneth iron, so doth the countenance of a man his friend.’ I feel much comfort and support from religious conversa¬ tion, when I can obtain it. Formerly I rejoiced in the absence of com¬ pany : and found, the less I had of creature comforts, the more I had from God. But alas ! I am fallen from that spiritual converse I once enjoyed; and why is it so ? Because I want faith. God is an omni¬ present unchangeable good, “ in whom is no variableness, neither sha¬ dow of turning.” The fault is in myself; and I attribute all mistakes in judgment, all errors in practice, to want of faith in the blessed Jesus. O ! my dear, when I consider the dignity of his person, the perfection of his purity, the greatness of his sufferings ; but above all, his boundless love, I am astonished and utterly confounded I am lost in thought; I fall into nothing before him! O how inexcusable is that person who has knowledge of these things, and yet remains poor and low in faith and love. I speak as one guilty in this matter.* “ I have been prevented from finishing my letter. I complained I had none to converse with me on spiritual things ; but for these several days, I have had the conversation of many good Christians, who have refreshed, in some measure, my fainting spirits. And though they hindered my writing, yet it was a pleasing, and I. hope not an unprofit¬ able, interruption they gave me. I hope we shall shortly speak face to face ; and I shall then, if God permit, impart my thoughts more fully. But then alas ! when you come, your brother leaves me. Yet that is the will of God, in whose blessed service you are engaged ; who hath hitherto blessed your labours, and preserved your persons. That he may continue so to prosper your work, and protect you both from evil, and give you strength and courage to preach the true gospel , in oppo¬ sition to the united powers of evil men and evil angels, is the hearty prayer of dear Charles, your loving mother, S. W.” * She now began to feel the want of living faith. This conviction always precedes that divine gift. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, j 45 This letter gives full evidence that Mrs. Wesley cordially approved of the conduct of her sons, and was animated with zeal for the success of their labours. She continued in the most perfect harmony with them till her death. Attending on their ministry, and walking in the light of God’s countenance, she rejoiced in the blessed experience of the truths she heard them preach.—An account of her happy death shall be given in the proper place. Mrs. Wesley had taken great pains with all her children, to furnish their minds with useful knowledge, and to instil into them the principles of religion and virtue. The daughters were by no means neglected; they shared their mother’s care with the sons. Many of their letters are now before me, in which there is much strong sense, lively wit, and accurate language ; though they were written on common subjects, and without any expectation that they would be preserved. Most of them had a fine genius for poetry: But Mrs. Wright shone the brightest in this walk of elegant amusement; and to her I shall chiefly confine my observations, in speaking of the daughters of these venerable parents. Mrs. Wright was her mother’s tenth or eleventh child; and it has been said, that when she was eight years old, she could read the Greek Testament. From her infancy she was gay and sprightly, and extremely addicted to wit and humour. As she grew up, she indulged herself in these dispositions so far, as to give great uneasiness to her parents. About the year 1724, or the beginning of 1725, a gentleman, respecta¬ ble both for his abilities and situation in life, paid his addresses to her, and she had a sincere regard for him. But, from some circumstance, he and her father disagreed, and the affair was broken off. From a concurrence of circumstances in the end of the year 1725, she was induced to marry a person not at all adapted to make her happy; being rude in address, and much inferior to her in understanding: he also proved an unkind husband. Her situation preyed upon her mind, her health and strength gradually wasted away, and at length she sunk into a degree of melancholy that made her truly wretched. Most of her verses which have been preserved, are beautiful, and written in the true spirit of poetry; but they are saddened with an air of deep distress. The following address to her husband will give some notion of his character, and show the true cause of her wretchedness. MEHETABEL WRIGHT TO HER HUSBAND. The ardent lover cannot find A coldness in his fair unkind, But blaming what he cannot hate He mildly chides the dear ingrate; And though despairing of relief. In soft complaining vents his grief. Then what should hinder but that I, Impatient of my wrongs, may try, By saddest, softest strains, to move My wedded, latest, dearest love, To throw his cold neglect aside. And cheer once more his injured bride? O thou ! whom sacred rites design’d My guide and husband ever kind, My sov’reign master, best, of friends. On whom my earthly bliss depends! If e’er thou didst in Hetty see Aught fair, or good, or dear to thee., 7 VOL. I. 46 THE RELATIVES Of If gentle speech can ever move The cold remains of former love; Turn thee at last—my bosom ease, Or tell me why I cease to please. Is it because revolving years, Heart-breaking sighs, and fruitless tears, Have quite deprived this form of mine Of all that once thou fanciedst fine ? Ah no! what once allured thy sight Is still in its meridian height; These eyes their usual lustre show, When uneclipsed by flowing wo. Old age and wrinkles in this face As yet could never find a place; A youthful grace adorns the lines, Where still the purple current shines. Unless, by thy ungentle art, It flies to aid my wretched heart: Nor does this slighted bosom show The thousand hours it spends in wo. Or is it that, oppressed with care, I stun with loud complaints thine ear, And make thy home, for quiet meant, The seat of noise and discontent ? Oh no! those ears were ever free . From matrimonial melody. For though thine absence I lament, When half the lonely night is spent; Yet when the watch, or early mom, Has brought me hopes of thy return, I oft have wiped these watchful eyes, Conceal’d my cares, and curb’d my sighs. In spite of grief, to let thee see I wore an endless smile for thee. Had I not practised every art T’ oblige, divert, and cheer thy heart, To make me pleasing in thine eyes, And turn thy home to paradise, I had not ask’d. Why dost thou shun These faithful arms, and eager run To some*obscure unclean retreat, With fierids incarnate glad to meet, The vile companions of thy mirth, The scum and refuse of the earth ? Who, when inspired with beer, can grin At witless oaths and jests obscene : Till the most learned of the throng Begins a tale of ten hours long, Whilst thou in raptures, with stretch’d jaws, Crownest each joke with loud applause! Deprived of freedom, health, and ease, And rivall’d by such things as these, This latest effort will I try. Or to regain thine heart, or die! Soft as I am, I ’ll make thee see I will not brook contempt from thee. Then quit the shuffling, doubtful sense, Nor hold me longer in suspense. Unkind, ungrateful as thou art, Say, must I ne’er regain thy heart ? Must all attempts to please thee prove Unable to regain thy love ? If so, by truth itself I swear, The sad reverse I cannot bear; No rest, no pleasure will I see, My whole of bliss is lost with thee. I ’ll give all thought of patience o’er, (A gift I never lost before,) THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, 47 Indulge at once my rage and grief, Mourn obstinate, disdain relief; And call that wretch my mortal foe, Who tries to mitigate my wo; Till life, on terms severe as these, Shall, ebbing, leave my heart at ease To thee thy liberty restore, To laugh when Hetty is no more. The following beautiful lines seem to have been an extempore effu¬ sion, poured out from the fulness of her heart on the occasion, and sharpened with the keen distress of her hopeless situation. ADDRESS TO HER DYING INFANT,* SEPTEMBER, 1728 , Tender softness ! infant mild ! Perfect, sweetest, loveliest child! Transient lustre ! beauteous clay! Smiling wonder of a day! Ere the last convulsive start Rend thy unresisting heart; Ere the long enduring swoon Weigh thy precious eyelids down; Ah, regard a mother’s moan; Anguish deeper than thy own ! Fairest eyes, whose dawning light Late with rapture bless’d my sight: Ere your orbs extinguish’d be, Bend their trembling beams on me ! Drooping sweetness! verdant flower' Blooming, with’ring in an hour ! Ere thy gentle breast sustains Latest, fiercest, mortal pains, Hear a suppliant.! let me be Partner in thy destiny ! That whene’er the fatal cloud Must thy radiant temples shroud : When deadly damps (impending now) Shall hover round thy destined brow : Diffusive may their influence be, And with the blossom blast the tree ! In this state of mind, and declining fast in health, she wrote the following Epitaph for herself:— # Destined, while living, to sustain An equal share of grief and pain ! All various ills of human race Within this breast had once a place. Without complaint, she leam’d to bear A living death, a long despair; Till hard oppress’d by adverse fate, O’ercharged, she sunk beneath the weight, And to this peaceful tomb retired, So much esteem’d, so long desired ! The painful mortal conflict’s o’er; A broken heart can bleed no more ! Mrs. Wright, however, lived many years after this; and at length true religion coming to her aid, soothed the anguish of her mind, and gave her peace, though she never recovered her health. The first religious letter she wrote to Mr. Wesley was in 1743 : She says, “ Some years ago I told my brother Charles I could not be of his * The child died the third day after it was bom . — Private Papers . 48 THE RELATIVES OF way of thinking then, but that, if ever I was, I would as freely own it. After I was convinced of sin—and of your opinion as far as I had exa¬ mined your principles, I still forbore declaring my sentiments so openly as I had inclination to do, fearing I should relapse into my former state. When I was delivered from this fear, and had a blessed hope, that he who had begun would finish his work, I never confessed so fully as I ought, how entirely I was of your mind, because I was taxed with insincerity and hypocrisy whenever I opened my mouth in favour of religion, or owned how great things God had done for me. This dis¬ couraged me utterly, and prevented me from making my change as public as my folly and vanity had formerly been. But now my health is gone, I cannot be easy without declaring that I have long desired to know but one thing , that is, Jesus Christ and him crucified; and this desire prevails above all others. And though I am cut off from all human help or ministry, I am not without assistance; though I have no spiritual friend, nor ever had one yet, except perhaps once in a year or two, when I have seen one of my brothers, or some other religious person, by stealth: yet (no thanks to me!) I am enabled to seek hinl still, and to be satisfied with nothing less than God, in whose presence I affirm this truth. I dare not desire health, only patience, resignation, and the spirit of an healthful mind. I have been so long weak, that I know not how long my trial may last; but I have a firm persuasion and blessed hope (though no full assurance) that in the country I am going to, I shall not sing hallelujah, and holy, holy, holy, without com¬ pany, as I have done in this. Dear brother, I am unused to speak or write on these things; I only speak my plain thoughts as they occur. Adieu! If you have time from better business to send a like to Stan- more, so great a comfort would be as welcome as it is wanted.” In July 1744, she wrote to her brother from Bristol, where it seems she then resided, at least for some time. She speaks of herself in the most humiliating terms. She highly commends the Christian friendship of Mrs. Vigor, Miss Stafford, and some others. She now enjoyed the means of grace, and the benefit of conversation with the people of the Society, and continued to grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Ch^st. Mrs. Wright persevered in a religious course of life, patient in her sufferings, resigned to her weakness, and waiting for full salvation in a deliverance from this mortal state, till 1751. In March this year, Mr. Charles Wesley speaks thus of her:—“ Prayed by my sister Wright, a gracious, tender, trembling soul; a bruised reed, which the Lord will not break.” She died on the 21st of the same month, and Mr. Charles preached her funeral sermon. He observes, that he had sweet fellow¬ ship with her in explaining those words, “ Thy sun shall no more go down, neither shall thy moon withdraiv itself; for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light , and the days of thy mourning shall be ended.” He adds, “ All present seemed partakers both of my sorrow and my joy.” From this authentic account of Mrs. Wright, taken from original letters, we may correct an error of Mr. Duncombe concerning her. This gentleman has insinuated in his Feminead , that her pungent distress and gloomy despair originated’from mistaken and superstitious views of religion : It appears, on the contrary, that they arose from a very different THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 49 cause, and that religion restored her to peace and happiness ; and indeed it was the only thing that could do it. Mr. Buncombe’s words are. But ah! why heaves my breast this pensive sigh ? Why starts this tear unbidden from my eye ? What breast from sighs, what eye from tears refrains, When sweetly mournful, hapless Wright complains? And who but grieves to see her gen’rous mind, For nobler views and worthier guests design’d, Amidst the hateful form of black despair, Wan with the gloom of superstitious care ? In pity-moving lays, with earnest cries, She called on Heaven to close her weary eyes; And long on earth, by heartfelt woes opprest, Was borne by friendly death to welcome rest.* It is grievous to see authors, whose works are likely to be read, take every opportunity to dress out religion in the most ugly forms they can invent, and even attributing to it those calamities of life which religion alone is able to alleviate and redress. The following among other poetical compositions, were written by Mrs. Wright; but at what period of her life, is uncertain. TO THE MEMORY OF HER UNCLE, A PHYSICIAN,f WHO DIED IN 1737.J How can the muse attempt the string, Forsaken by her guardian power ? Ah me! that she survives to sing Her friend and patron now no more ! Yet private grief she might suppress, Since Clio bears no selfish mind; But oh! she mourns to wild excess The friend and patron of mankind. Alas ! the sovereign healing art, Which rescued thousands from the grave, Unaided left the gentlest heart, Nor could its skilful master save. Who shall the helpless sex sustain, Now Varo’s lenient hand is gone, Which knew so well to soften pain, And ward all dangers but his own. His darling Muse, his Clio dear, Whom first his favour raised to fame, His gentle voice vouchsafed to cheer; His art upheld her .lender frame. Pale envy durst not show her teeth ; Above contempt she gaily shone Chief favourite, till the hand of death Endangered both by striking one. Perceiving well, devoid of fear, His latest fatal conflict nigh, Reclined on her he held most dear, Whose breast received his parting sigh ; . With every art and grace adorn’d, By man admired, by heaven approved, Good Varo died—applauded, mourn’d, And honour’d by the Muse he loved. * See Christian Mag. vol. iii, p. 523. f Ibid. p. 284. iMr. Charles Wesley’s Journal. 50 THE RELATIVES OF TO THE MEMORY OF HER SISTER, MRS. WHITELAMB, WHO DIED IN CHILDBED, ABOUT A YEAR AFTER HER MARRIAGE. If happy spirits are allow’d to know, And hover round what once they loved below, Maria, gentlest excellence, attend To one who glories to have call’d thee friend ! Remote in merit, though alLed in blood, Though worthless 1, and thou divinely good, Accept, dear shade, from me these artless lays, Who never durst unjustly blame dr praise. With business and devotion never cloy’d, No moment of thy life pass’d unemploy’d : Well-natured mirth, matured discretion join’d, Constant attendants on the virtuous mind : Ah me! that heaven has from this bosom tom The dearest friend whom I must ever mourn, Ere Stella could discharge the smallest part Of what she owed to such immense desert. Pleasing thy face and form, tho’ heaven confined To scanty limits thy extensive mind; Witness the taintless lustre of thy skin, Bright emblem of the brighter soul within; That soul which, easy, unaffected, mild, Through jetty eyes with pleasing sweetness smiled. To soundest prudence, life’s unerring guide i To love sincere, religion void of pride; To friendship, perfect in a female mind, Which I can never hope again to find; To mirth, the balm of care, from lightness free: To steadfast truth, unwearied industry:— To every charm and grace, comprised in you, Sister and friend, a long and last adieu. A FAREWELL TO THE WORLD. While sickness rends this tenement of clay, The approaching change with pleasure I survey, O’erjoyed to reach the goal with eager pace, Ere my slow life has measured half its race. No longer shall 1 bear, my friends to please, The hard constraint of seeming much at ease : Wearing an outward smile, a look serene, While piercing racks and tortures lurk within. Yet let me not, ungrateful to my God, Record the evil, and forget the good ; For both l humble adoration pay, And bless the power who gives and takes away: Long shall my faithful memory retain. And oft recall each interval of pam. Nay, to high Heaven for greater gifts I bend, Health I’ve enjoy’d, and I had once a friend. Our labour sweet, if labour it may seem, - Allow’d the sportive and instructive scene : Yet here no lewd or useless wit was found, We poised the wav’ring sail with ballast sound. Learning here placed her richer stores in view, Or, wing’d with love, the minutes gayly flew. Nay, yet sublimer joys our bosoms proved, Divine benevolence, by heaven beloved : Wan meagre forms, tom from impending death, Exulting, bless’d us with reviving breath. The shiv’ring wretch we clothed, the mourner cheer’d. And sickness ceased to groan when we appeared. Unask’d, our care assists with tender art Their bodies, nor neglects th’ immortal part THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 51 Sometimes in shades impierced by Cynthia’s beam, Whose lustre glimmer’d on the dimpled stream, We led the sprightly dance through sylvan scenes, Or tripp’d like fairies o’er the level greens: In ev’ry breast a gen’rous fervour glows, Soft bliss, which innocence alone bestows! From fragrant herbage, deck’d with pearly dews, And flow’rets of a thousand various hues, By wafting gales the mingling odours fly, And round our heads in whisp’ring breezes sigh. Whole nature seems to heighten and improve The holier hours of innocence and love. Youth, wit, good-nature, candour, sense, combined— To serve, delight, and civilize mankind : In wisdom’s lore we ev’ry heart engage, And triumph to restore the golden age! Now close the blissful scene exhausted Muse, The latest blissful scene which thou shalt choose 1 Satiate with life, what joys for me remain, Save one dear wish, to balance ev’ry pain? To bow my head, with grief and toil opprest, Till borne by angel-bands to everlasting rest. Mr. John Wesley subjoins to this poem the following note : “ It is but justice to her memory to observe, that she was at rest before she went hence ; being for some years a witness of that rest which remains, even here, for the people of God.” Dr. Whitehead, in his Memoirs of the family, observes, Miss Kezzy Wesley was addressed by Mr. Hall, a young gentleman of a good understanding, agreeable in his person, and engaging in his address. He was entered at Lincoln College as Mr. Wesley’s pupil, on the 22d of January, 1731; but Mr. Wesley was totally ignorant of his addresses tcf his sister.* Mr. Hall entered into Orders while he was at Oxford; and though most of the family thought highly of him in every respect as a religious character, yet Samuel Wesley strongly doubted his sin¬ cerity. Mr. John Wesley believed him sincere and pious; but, in a letter written to his mother, when Mr. Hall was at Oxford, he speaks of him as highly enthusiastic and superstitious. After he.had gained the affections of the young lady, he quitted her, and paid his addresses to her elder sister. The family opposed this conduct with great vehemence, especially the three brothers. But the marriage, notwithstanding, took place, and the future conduct of Mr. Hall by no means corresponded to the expectations they at first formed of him. After some years, he quitted his wife, having had ten children by her, and afterwards lived in the most loose and scandalous manner. Mrs. Hall bore her trials with remarkable patience and resignation. Indeed, in this respect, she was a pattern to all Christians ; for I do not remember, that I ever heard her speak ill of any person, whatever injuries she might have received.—Miss Kezzy Wesley died on the 9th of March 1741, and Mr. Charles gives the following account of her death in a letter to his brother : ‘‘Yesterday morning, sister Kezzy died in the Lord Jesus. He finished his work, and cut it short in mercy. Full of thankfulness, resignation, and love, without pain or trouble, she commended her spirit into the hands of Jesus, and fell asleep.” % * This appears from a letter Mr. Wesley wrote to Mr. Hall, in which he mentions this circumstance. 52 THE RELATIVES OF Miss Wesley, the only daughter of Mr. Charles Wesley, in a letter to Mr. Watson, the able defender of Mr. Wesley’s character against the puerile attacks of Mr. Southey, observes, 44 I wish to correct an error into which Dr. Whitehead and Mr. Ilampson have fallen, from whom Southey , I presume, has taken it, respecting my beloved aunt Hall, as it is not generally known to be false. Mr. Hall first courted her when she lived with her unci e, Matthew Wesley , in London; this was unknown to the family at that time. He then paid his addresses to Kezia; and when the match was fixed, he returned to Martha , whose affections he had won, and married her against the expostulations of her brothers. Had not this been the fact, my good grandmother would have strenu¬ ously opposed the match. I had this account from my aunt herself, and mentioned it to my father, who said, 4 He knew, that she always justified herself from the circumstance of first love; but she ought not to have taken him.’ Kezia lived four years after, and it certainly was not from any thing she suffered on this account that she died.” A letter now lying before me in Mrs. Hall’s own hand, to Mr. John Wesley, dated June the 26th, 1743, shows that she had not even then the same opinion of her husband that her brothers had. She observes, 44 Doubtless you knew that I should be much concerned at what you said respecting Mr. Hall. I don’t know whether I know certainly what you mean by his new gospel or no, but I suppose I may guess at it. I have long thought, I do still think him, a servant of Christ. How then could it be, that he should not be kept, at least from dangerous ^rrors ? I know that you are ready to answer me, nay, indeed, I can answer myself, that it must be from some unfaithfulness or other.—And now immediately come the false Moravians to my mind. For if he should be so unhappy as to fall into any or ever so many dangerous errors, I must lay them all at their door, who transformed themselves into angels of light to seduce him from that apostolic church in which he was baptized, and in which he was called to the honour of being not only a member, but a priest. O that he might, as you say, find them out!” Love hopeth all things. I was well acquainted with Mrs. Hall, and could answer for her sincerity ; but certainly the facts were strong against her unhappy husband. Mr. Wesley, hov/ever, hoped that, before he went hence, 44 God gave him repentance unto life.” That Mrs. Hall at this time enjoyed the faith of the gospel , is evident from a passage in the same letter. She observes, “ I have indeed that blessed peace which passeth all understanding, and have had such remarkable promises so particularly applied to me, that I stand asto¬ nished at the goodness of God, supplying in so wonderful a manner the loss of parents, children, and friends to me. One day at church, those words (which I had never taken notice of before,) were given me in such a remarkable manner as I believe you understand: 4 As a bride¬ groom rejoiceth over his bride , so shall the Lord thy God rejoice over thee.’ I am ashamed that I should love so little, having so much for¬ given, and such constant blessings.”—Mrs. Hall was a woman of a remarkably strong understanding. We see, however, that she also became an enthusiast! She now enjoys the happy fruits of it. In addition to the above, I have to add some interesting particulars from a letter of Miss Kezzy Wesley, now lying before me, to her brother John. It is dated June 16th, 1734. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. b'6 “ Dear Brother, —I intended not to write till I could give you an account of Mr. Hall’s affair; but it is needless, because I believe he won’t do any thing without your approbation. I am entirely of your opinion, that w^ ought to ‘ endeavour after perfect resignationand I have learned to practise this duty in one particular, which I think is of the greatest importance in life, viz. marriage. I am as indifferent as it is lawful for any person to be, whether I ever change my state or not, because I think a single life is the more excellent way ; and there are also several reasons, why I rather desire to continue as I am. One is, because I desire to be entirely disengaged from the world ; but the chief is, I am so well apprised of the great duty a wife owes to her husband, that I think it is almost impossible that she should ever discharge it as she ought. But I can scarce say I have the liberty of choosing, for my relations are continually soliciting me to marry.—I shall endeavour to be as resigned and cheerful as possible to whatever God is pleased to ordain for me.” It will not much surprise the sensible reader, that this courtship should not end happily. Mr. Hall was a man of strong passions, as was too fully proved in his after life. We cannot wonder, therefore, that he should grow weary of a suit, the object of which was, in every respect, so unlike the suitor. I had written the above account, more than a year before I saw Dr. Clarke’s “ Memoirs of the Wesley Family,” in which the subject of Mrs. Hall’s marriage is largely considered. I believe no person now alive, excepting only her nearest relatives, was so intimately acquainted with Mrs. Hall as I was. To all that is said of her excellent under¬ standing and temper, and her most blameless life, I heartily subscribe. * But Mrs. Hall did not speak of her marriage quite as the respectable Biographer of her family does. That it would be inexcusably wrong for Miss Kezzy Wesley to .have accepted Mr. Hall, after she knew his previous engagement to her sister, even if he had desired it, she knew and felt, and so did every one of the family. But, I believe, Mrs. Hall was convinced for many years, that her brothers were so far right, that for both sisters to have refused him, after he had manifested such a want of principle and honour, would have been, at least, the more excel - lent way. I write to maintain the faith of the Gospel , which alone over- comes the world, and purifies the heart , and without which these fruits cannot be. Mrs. Hall, at that time, had only the faith common to all the family. Can we expect to find that high and constant self-denial which the Gospel inculcates, where “ righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost,” are unknown ? No, we ought not. The conflicts, and the halting obedience, described in the seventh chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, (under which her excellent brothers so long groaned,) is a description given by the Holy Spirit of God of the real state even of the most sincere of such believers. I believe, if, before her marriage she had obtained the faith which she describes in her letter to her brother, inserted above, and which was her support during her suffering life, she would have acted a very different part. No person can dispute the prior claim of Martha ; yet that claim, I still think, with Mr. Wesley, ought to have been disclaimed. But Martha’s affections were engaged; Kezzy’s were not. The marriage which took place was, wi% respect to her, a deliverance. VOL. I. 8 54 THE RELATIVES OF The indulgence of Mr. Hall’s vicious propensities led him at length to glory in his shame. He would talk, with apparent ease, to his chaste wife, concerning his concubines! He would tell her that she was his carnal wife, but they were his spiritual wives ! for he had taught them to despise all sober scriptural religion, and to talk as enthusiastically and as corruptly as himself. At length he broke all the bands, and retired, not to Ireland , but to the West Indies, taking his chief favourite with him. She was a remarkable woman; and appears to have had more personal courage than her wretched keeper. In an assault on the house in which they lived, by a black banditti, she seized a large pewter vessel, and standing at the turning of the stairs which led to their apartment, she knocked the assailants down, in succession, as they approached, and maintained the post till succour arrived, and dispersed the villains. He continued his connexion with this wretched woman till she died ; ancTthen returned to England, weak, and in some degree humbled. Mrs. Hall, bound, as she most conscientiously thought herself, by her original vows, received him with her usual equanimity, and showed him every kind and charitable attention till his death. Mr. John Wesley, the most charitable of men, gives the following account of the closing scene: u I came to Bristol just time enough, not to see, but to bury, poor Mr. Hall, my brother-in-law, who died on Wednesday morning, January 6, 1776, I trust in peace; for God had given him deep repentance. Such another monument of Divine mercy, considering how low he had fallen, and from what heights of holiness, I have not seen, no not in seventy years . I had designed to have visited him in the morning. but he did not stay for my coming. It is enough, if, after all his wanderings, we meet again in Abraham’s bosom.” Journal, vol. v, p. 177. Mrs. Hall survived all her brothers and sisters, and died in peace, £ July 12th, 1791. r CHAPTER IV. THE REV. SAMUEL WESLEY, JUNIOR. Samuel Wesley, M. A., son of Samuel and Susannah Wesley, was bom about 1692,* a year or two before his parents removed to Epworth; being nearly eleven years older than his brother Mr. John Wesley, and sixteen older than Mr. Charles. Concerning his childhood there is something very remarkable. He did not speak at all till he was more than four years old, and was thought to be deficient in understanding. But he one day answered a question which was proposed to a servant concerning him, in such a way as greatly surprised all that were present: and from that time he spoke without any difficulty. He was sent to Westminster school about the beginning of the year 1704, and admitted a King’s scholar in 1707. j* Before he left home, his mother, by judi¬ cious and constant instruction, had formed his mind to a knowledge and * This date of his birth is taken from a memorandum, which Mr. John Wesley wrote on the back of one of his brother’s letters. f Welch’s List of Scholars of St. Peter’s College, Westminster, as they were related to Christ Church, Oxford, and to Trinity College, Cambridge, p. 91 THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 55 serious sense of religion; but she knew the danger of his situation at Westminster, and how exceedingly apt young persons are to be drawn aside from religion and virtue, by improper companions, and bad exam¬ ples constantly before their eyes. On this account she was anxious for the preservation of his morals, as he grew up and became more exposed to temptation. After she had recovered from the shock of the fire, which destroyed all they had, and from the fury of which they saved themselves with great difficulty, she wrote him a long letter, dated October 1709 ; which, for the importance of the matter, and the energy with which it is written, is highly deserving of preservation; but, on account of its length, I can insert only a part of it. “ I hope,” says she, “that you retain the impressions of your educa¬ tion, nor have forgot that the vows of God are upon you. You know that the first-fruits are heaven’s by an unalienable right; and that, as your parents devoted you to the service of the altar, so you yourself made it your choice when your father was offered another way of life for you. But have you duly considered what such a choice, and such a dedication imports? Consider well, what separation from the world! what purity! what devotion! what exemplary virtue ! is required in those who are to guide others to glory. I say exemplary; for low, common degrees of piety are not sufficient for those of the sacred function. You must not think to live like the rest of the world: Your light must so shine among men, that they may see your good works, and thereby be led to glorify your Father which is in heaven. For my part, I cannot see with what face clergymen can reprove sinners, or exhort men to lead a good life, when they themselves indulge their own corrupt inclinations, and by their practice contradict their doctrine. If the holy Jesus be in truth their Master, and they be really his Embassadors, surely it becomes them to live like his Disciples : And if they do not, what a sad account must they give of their stewardship ! “ I would advise you, as much as possible in your present circum¬ stances, to throw your business into a certain method ; by which means you will learn to improve every precious moment, and find an unspeak¬ able facility in the performance of your respective duties. Begin and end the day with Him who is the Alpha and Omega; and if you really experience what it is to love God, you will redeem all the time you can for his more immediate service. I will tell you what rule I used to observe when I was in my father’s house, and had as little, if not less liberty than you have now: I used to allow myself as much time for recreation as I spent in private devotion ; not that I always spent so much, but I gave myself leave to go so far, but no farther. So in all things else, appoint so much time for sleep, eating, company, &c. But above all things, my dear Sammy, I command you, I beg, I beseech you, to be very strict in observing the Lord’s day.—In all things endea¬ vour to act upon principle, and do not live like the rest of mankind, who pass through the world like straws upon a river, which are carried which way the stream or wind drives them. Often put this question to your¬ self, Why do I this or that? Why do I pray, read, study, use devo¬ tion ? &c. By which means you will com 3 to such a steadiness and consistency in your words and actions, as becomes a reasonable crea-. ture and a good Christian.”—These observations were worthy of the-' mother, and they were properly regarded and followed by the son. 56 THE RELATIVES OF When he was senior scholar at Westminster, the Bishop of Roches¬ ter* took him to his seat at Bromley in Kent, to read to him in the evenings. He was at this time eagerly pursuing his studies ; and this circumstance, which, for several reasons, would have been highly gra¬ tifying to many, was to him no small mortification. From this place he wrote a Latin letter to his father, in August 1710, in which he complains heavily of the Bishop for the interruption he gave him in his learning. An extract from this letter I shall insert below,f and give the general purport of it in English. Speaking of the Bishop, he observes : “ He will always be exceedingly troublesome to me both in sacred and pro¬ fane learning ; for he interrupts the studies to which I had applied with all my might. Last year, in the midst of our business in the College, he took me off both from study and from school, not only without any benefit, but without calling me to any thing which had even the appear¬ ance of either utility or pleasure. To-day he is from home, or I should scarcely have leisure to write this letter. He chose me from all the scholars,—me, who am hoarse and short-sighted, to read to him at night. I am glad you enjoy good health. I beg yours and my mother’s blessing. I saw my grandmother J in the last holydays ; in those which are approaching, I cannot, because I am detained by an unfriendly friend.” He was about eighteen years old when he wrote this letter, and not then removed from school. We may observe in it marks of a strong mind, wholly devoted to the pursuit of classical knowledge : and, con¬ sidering his age and situation at the time, it shows a progress in learn¬ ing which does him credit. His mother’s advice had a proper effect on his mind, and was the means of preserving him from vices too common to the youth of the place. He retained his sobriety, his reverence for God, and regard for religion. In December this year, he wrote to his mother; and the following extract from his letter gives a pleasing view of his simplicity, and serious attention to the state of his own heart and the first motions of evil. “ I received the sacrament,” says he, “ the first Sunday of this month. I am unstable as water. I frequently make good resolutions, and keep them for a time, and then grow weary of the restraint. I have one grand failing, which is, that, having done my duty, I under¬ value others, and think what wretches the rest of the College are com¬ pared with me. Sometimes in my relapses I cry out, ‘ Can the Ethio¬ pian change his skin , and the leopard his spots ? Then may you also do good , who are accustomed to do eviU But I answer again, ‘ With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible .’ Amen.”—Yet this good man opposed with all his might that faith which his brother * The predecessor of Atterbury, who was not advanced to the See of Rochester till 1718. ■j- “ Ille mihi, et in sacris et in profanis rebus, semper erit infestissimus; studia enirn intermitti cogit, quibus pro virili incubuerani. Ultimo anno in Collegio agendo, ubi non mihi seniori opus est amicorum hospitio, a studiis et a schola me detraxit; non modo nullam ad utilitatem, sed ne ad minimam quidem vel utilitatis vel voluptatis speciem me vocavit. Ipse hodie foras est, aliter vix otium foret quo has scriberem. Me ex omnibus discipulis elegit, ut perlegerem ei noctu libros ; me raucum, me [xvuwa. Gaudeo vos valetudine bona frui. Tuam et matemam benedictionem oro. Episcopus jussit me illius in literis mentionem facere. Da veniam subitis. Aviam ultimis festis vidi; his venientibus non possum, quia ab inimico amico detineor.” | The widow of Mr. John Wesley, of New-Inn-hall, Oxford, and niece of Dr. Thomas Fuller. She had then been a widow near forty years. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 57 afterwards preached, and which alone can save us from those corrupt tions! The next year, 1711, he was elected to Christ Church, Oxford;* and here, as well as at Westminster, he acquired the character of an excellent classic scholar. But his mind was too large, and his zeal for religion and the Established Church too ardent, to be confined within the bounds prescribed by the common exercises of the place. The following letter shows that he took an active part in some of the principal questions agitated among the literati of that time. It is dated June 3, 1713, when he had been about two years at Oxford; and is addressed to the Honourable Robert Nelson, Esquire. He says, “ I hoped, long ere this, to have perfected, as well as I could, my Disser¬ tation on Ignatius, and gotten it ready for the press, when I came to town this year. But I found myself disappointed, at first, for some months, by my affairs in the East-India House, and since by my charity hymns and other matters. I think I told you some time since, that I had laid materials together for a second discourse on that subject, directly against Mr. Whiston’s objections to the shorter and genuine copy of Ignatius ; whereas my former was chiefly against the larger: because I then thought, if that were proved interpolated, it would be readily granted that the other was the genuine. But having found, when Mr. Whiston’s four volumes came out, that he had in the first of them laid together many objections against the shorter epistles, I set myself to consider them ; and having now got Archbishop Ussher, Bishop Pearson, and Dr. Smyth, on that subject, and as carefully as I could perused them, I found that many of Mr. Whiston’s objections were taken from Dailke, a few from the writings of the Socinians and modem Arians, though most of them from his own observations. These latter being new, and having not appeared when Bishop Pearson or the others wrote, could not be taken notice of by them; and, being now published in the English language, may seduce some well-meaning persons, and persuade tfiem that the true Ignatius was of the same opinion with the Arians, (whereas I am sure he was as far from it as light is from darkness,) and that the rather because there has been as yet no answer, that I know of, published to them, though they were printed in the year 1711. I know many are of opinion, it is best still to slight him, and take no notice of him. This I confess is the most easy way, but camiot tell whether it will be safe in respect to the com¬ mon people, or will tend so much to the honour of our church and nation. Of this, however, I am pretty confident, that I can prove all his main objections, whether general or particular, against the shorter copy, to be notoriously false. Such as that, pp. 86, 87, 4 That the smaller so frequently calls Christ God,’ which he says was done to serve the turn of the Athanasians, and cannot in reason be supposed to be an omission in the larger, but must be interpolation in the smaller: whereas I find that the smaller calls him God but fifteen times, the larger eighteen, and if we take in those to Antioch and Tarsus, twenty- two times, for an obvious reason. “ Again, he says, p. 64, that serious exhortations to practical, espe¬ cially domestic duties, are in the larger only, being to a surprising degree omitted in the smaller. But I have collected above one hun- * Wfxch’s List, (fee, pa^e 95. 5S THE RELATIVES OF dred instances wherein these duties are most pressingly recommended in the smaller. “ But what he labours most, is to prove, that the first quotations in Eusebius, and others of the ancients, are agreeable to the larger, not the smaller; whereas, on my tracing and comparing them all, as far as I have had opportunity, I have found this assertion to be a palpable mistake, unless in one quotation from the Chronicon Jllexandrinum, or Paschale . I would gladly see JMontfaucon de causa JWwrcelli , St. Basil contra JMarcellum , observations on Pearson’s Vindicice , and some good account of the Jewish Sephiroth , because I think the Gnostics, Ba- silidians, and Valentinians, borrowed many of their JEons from them, since they have the same names ; and this perhaps, might give farther light to the famous 2irH of Ignatius ; for the clearing whereof Bishop Pearson, Dr. Bull, and Grotius have so well laboured.” This letter shows the spirit and zeal of Mr. Wesley for sound doctrine, and does credit to so young a student. When he had taken his Mas¬ ter’s degree, he was sent for, to officiate as Usher at Westminster School; and soon afterwards he took orders, under the patronage of Dr. Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester, and Dean of Westminster. He was exemplary in discharging the various duties of life, and did honour to his profession as a Christian and a minister of the Gospel. He had the nicest sense of honour and integrity; and the utmost abhorrence of duplicity and falsehood. He was humane and charitable ; not only ad¬ ministering to the wants of the poor and afflicted, as far as his income would permit, but also using his influence with others to procure them relief. In filial affection and duty to his parents, he was remarkable ; no man in the same circumstances ever shone brighter in this branch of Christian duty, through the whole course of his life. His political principles are strongly apparent in the following Poetical Epistle to the second Earl of Oxford, son of the famous Harley, Prime Minister to Queen Anne. The original, in his own handwriting, is be¬ fore me ; I believe, it was never before published. We see in it the firm friend of Atterbury, and of Harley ; the loyal man, and yet the <£ unbending Tory.” TO THE EARL OF OXFORD, ON HIS NOT APPEARING AT ST. JAMES’S ON KING GEORGE THE SECOND’S ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. While thick to Court transported Tories run, Spumed by the Sire, and smiled on by the Son; Freed from an Iron Reign’s continued curse, Expecting better, and secure from worse; Beyond their principles, now passive grown, They lick the spittle which the Whigs have thrown ; Embrace the authors of their former tears, Forgetting, in an hour, the spoil of years; Reserved and silent, you at distance stand, Nor haste to kiss the oft-extended hand. Their compliments and hopes let others show; And if they will be laugh’d at—be it so. So George, ascending his imperial throne, With decent grief, a Father may bemoan; Let not his partial greatness e’er require, That duteous Oxford should neglect a Sire: A Sire, who left a heritage more fair, Than hoarded wealth, or sceptres to his heir. A Harley seldom treads this mortal stage, Rut Kings and misers rise in every age. THE REV. JOHN \VE3LEY. 59 He used for public good the public store, Still daring to be just and to be poor. Finn to his country’s and religion’s cause, True to our ancient faith and ancient laws, He due regard to learning’s seats profest; Nor awed with threat’nings, nor with troops opprest. Skilful through suppliant crowds to force his way, And call retiring merit into day, No narrow views his mighty soul confined, Friend to the world, and Patron to mankind! He join’d, in glorious peace, contending Kings, And pluck’d the Austrian Eagle’s spreading wings. He knew the rage of faction’s tide to stem; He gave the Brunswick race their diadem. Graved in your bosom let his image dwell, Great while he stood, but greater when he fell. Fearless, serene, he looked on danger nigh. Let Harcourt double, and let St. John* fly; Against the storm he turn’d his steady face, And scorn’d the shelter of an Act of Grace. Others by mean retreat their gains ensure, Conscious they nfeed the pardons they procure. ’T was vain, O George, that mercy to refuse Which Oxford could not want, and would not use,- T’ except his name, who faithful to thy line. Among the British Kings inserted thine! What Prince so vast a benefit would own ? Thou could’st not pardon, for he gave thy Crown. Fairly rewarded he, to death pursued! O glorious act of German gratitude! To greet their power how nobly you disdain’d, Who strove with Oxford’s murder to be stain’d! | To George with supple fawning scorn to bow,— Persist; remember you are Oxford now ! Faithful , but never cringing , to the Throne,— Forgive his father—nor forget your own. The reader who is acquainted with the party feuds of that day, will not be surprised to hear, that he was deprived of his right to succeed as Second Master at Westminster. On a vacancy when it was thought no man should be preferred before him, his intimacy with the Earl of Oxford, Bishop Atterbury, and Mr. Pope, and the frequent exertions of his wit against Sir Robert Walpole, the minister of that day, prevented his advancement. The ostensible reason given was his being married , which caused him to send an elegant poetical compliment to his wife, glorying in his fault, and refusing to repent. He was unhappily prejudiced agamst some of the highest truths of the Gospel. Many of the Dissenters had insisted on those great truths: but he, having been educated in the highest Church principles, had inad¬ vertently imbibed a dislike to those very truths themselves, because they were so zealously enforced out of the pale of the Church although they are so plainly taught in the Articles and Homilies of the Church of Eng¬ land. | Some of his Letters to his brother John are still extant, and evince a most determined disapprobation of the New Faith , as he is pleased to term “ the knowledge of salvation by the remission of our sins.” He published a quarto volume of Poems, some of which were * Lord Bolingbroke. f Dr. Whitehead seems to have been much offended at this assertion, and says, “ If it were true, it would show him to be a man almost void of principle.” It was true, however; and true at one time of the whole family. Mr. John Wesley says the same thing of himself. In that account his words are, “ I had been long since taught to construe away all those Scriptures relating to this, [viz. to the sense of forgiveness,] and to call all those Presbyte¬ rians , who spoke otherwise.” THE RELATIVES OF 60 of considerable merit. “The Battle of the Sexes,” which was suggest¬ ed to him by a paper in the Guardian, has been much admired. I shall give specimens of his abilities for English and Latin Poetry. His Political Poetry, as we may term it, did not, perhaps could not, generally please; but his Religious Poetry made rich amends. The subjoined specimen of his skill in Latin Poetry is excellent. The fol¬ lowing paraphrase of Isaiah xl, 6, as quoted by St. Peter, in his first Epistle, chap, i, 24, is also truly admirable. ON DR. ALDRICH, DEAN OF CHRIST CHURCH, OXON. Cum subit illius lsetissivna frontis imago, Quem nostri toties explicuere sales : ( Cum subit et canum caput, et vigor acer ocelli,* Et digna mistus cum gravitate lepos : Solvimur in lachrymas, et inania munera versus Ad tumulum sparsis fert Elegia comis. Aldricio, debent cui munera tanta Camaense, Hoc tribuisse parum est, non tsibuisse scelus. The following translation may give some faint idea of the original, though it falls far short of it. That cheerful aspect when we call to mind, So often smiling at our artless verse ; That mirth with serious dignity combined, That vivid piercing eye, those silver hairs;— We melt in tears, and pensively bestow (Vain presents!) all we have, our grateful lays. Small to give this to whom so much we owe ! Yet sin it were this trophy not to raise. ON THE DEATH OF A VERT YOUNG LADY. u Alljiesh is grass , and all the glory of man as the Jlower of grass The morning flowers display their sweets, And gay their silken leaves unfold, As careless of die noon-tide heats, And fearless of the evening cold. Nipt by the wind’s unkindly blast, Parch’d by the sun’s directer ray, The momentary glories waste, The short-lived beauties die away. So blooms the human face divine, When youth its pride of beauty shows Fairer than spring tne colours shine, And sweeter than the virgin rose. Or worn by slowly rolling years, Or broke by sickness in a day, The fading glory, disappears, The short-lived beauties die away. Yet these, new* rising from the tomb, With lustrp brighter far shall shine; Revive with ever-during bloom, Safe from diseases and decline. Let sickness blast, let death devour, If heaven must recompense our pains: Perish the grass, and fade the flower, If firm the word of God remains! Mr. Samuel Wesley’s High Church principles led him to disapprove of the conduct of his brothers, Mr. John and Charles Wesley, when * The Doctor’s eyes, as Mr. J. Wesley informed me, were remarkably small, which was the reason of Mr. S. Wesley’s use of the diminutive. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 61 they became Itinerant preachers. Several letters passed between him and his brother John, both on the doctrine which he taught, find on his manner of teaching it. I shall have an opportunity of considering some of these letters, when I come to that period of Mr. John Wesley’s Life in which he and his brother Charles became Itinerants. Mr. S. Wesley was in a bad state of health, some time before he left Westminster; and it was not much improved by his removal to Tiverton. On the night of the 5th of November, 1739, he went to bed, seemingly as well as usual; was taken ill about three in the morning; and died at seven, after about four hours illness. But the following letter will state the circumstances more minutely. It was written to the late Mr. Charles Wesley. Tiverton, November 14,1739. 11 Reverend and dear Sir, —Your brother and my dear friend, (for so you are sensible he was to me,) on Monday the 5th of Nov. went to bed, as he thought, as well as he had been for some time before; was seized about three o’clock in the morning veiy ill, when, your sister immediately sent for Mr. Norman, and ordered the servant to call me. Mr. Norman came as quick as he possibly could, but said, as soon as he saw him, that he could not get over it, but would die in a few hours. He was not able to take any thing, nor able to speak to us, only yes or no to a question asked him; and that did not last half an hour. I never went from his bedside till he expired, which was about seven the same morning. With a great deal of difficulty we persuaded your dear sister to leave the room before he died. I trembled to think how she would bear it, knowing the sincere affection and love she had for him. But, blessed be God, He hath heard and answered prayer on her behalf, and, in a great measure, calmed her spirit, though she has not yet been out of her chamber. Your brother was buried on Monday last, in the after¬ noon, and he is gone to reap the fruit of his labours. I pray God we may imitate him in all his virtues, and be prepared to follow. I should enlarge much more, but have not time ; for which reason I hope you will excuse him, who is under the greatest obligations to be, and really is, with the greatest sincerity, Yours in all things , “Amos Matthews.” Mr. S. Wesley, Jun., was of a benevolent temper, which he cuki- vated upon principle. He was one of the projectors, and a very careful and active promoter, of the first Infirmary set up at Westminster, for the relief of the sick and needy, in 1719; and he had the satisfaction to see it flourish,* and to propagate by its example, under the prudent management of other good persons, many pious establishments of the same kind in distant parts of the nation. The following extracts of letters from his patron, Bishop Atterbuiy, are too much to his honour not to be mentioned here ; they were occa¬ sioned by that fine poem, printed in his works, on the Death of J\lrs. Morice , his Lordship’s daughter. April 24, 1730. “ I have received a poem from Mr. Morice, which I must be insen¬ sible not to thank you for,—your Elegy on the death of Mrs. Morice. I cannot help an impulse upon me, to tell you under my own hand, the * It is now St. George’s Hospital at Hv4e Park Comer. 9 62 THE RELATIVES OF satisfaction 1 feel, the approbation I give, the envy I bear you, tor this good work ; as a poet and as a man, I thank you, I esteem you.” “ Paris, May 27, 1730. “ I am obliged to W. for what he has written on my dear child ; and take it the more kindly, because he could not hope for my being ever in a condition to reward him, though, if ever I am, I will; for he has shown an invariable regard for me all along in all circumstances; and much more than some of his acquaintance, who had ten times greater obligations.” “Paris, June 30,1730. “ The verses you sent me touched me very nearly, and the Latin in the front of them as much as the English that followed. There are a great many good lines in them, and they are writ with as much affection as poetry. They came from the heart of the author, and he has a share of mine in return; and if ever I come back to my country with honour, he shall find it.” These extracts do honour to the feelings of Atterbury as a man; and they give a noble testimony to the disinterested and unchangeable friend¬ ship of Mr. S. Wesley for a person whom he esteemed, and whom he thought deeply injured. The following inscription on his grave-stone, in the churchyard at Tiverton, well expresses his character, and, I believe, does not exceed the truth:— HERE LIE INTERRED THE REMAINS OF THE REV. SAMUEL WESLEY, A. M. Some time Student of Christ Church, Oxon: A man, for his uncommon wit and learning, For the benevolence of his temper And simplicity of manners, Deservedly beloved arid esteemed by all. An excellent Preacher; But whose best sermon Was, the constant example of an edifying life: So continually and zealously employed In acts of beneficence and charity, That he truly followed His blessed Master’s example, In going about doing good. Of such scrupulous integrity, That he declined occasions of advancement in the world, Through fear of being involved in dangerous compliances, And avoided the usual ways to preferment As studiously as many others seek them. Therefore, after a life spent In the laborious employment of teaching youth, First, for near twenty years, As one of the Ushers in Westminster School; , Afterwards, for seven years, As Head Master of the Free-School at Tiverton, He resigned his soul to God, Nov. 6,1739, in the 49th year of his age. We have now taken a view of the Wesley family, and when their situation and circumstances are considered, they will appear, I believe, second to none of whom we have any clear record, either for learning, moral worth, or sincere piety. Their religion, however, must be esti¬ mated according to the day in which they lived. The real excellence of the Puritan dispensation had nearly passed away, and little remained THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 63 of it that was uncontaminated with Antinomianism. The first Puritans were eminent for holiness in all its branches; but the spurious race that followed were chiefly noted for turbulent zeal and a canting hypo¬ crisy, that brought all truo religion, in its life and power, into contempt. Their ambition also was manifest, and the nation felt it. It acted with an energy that seemed truly judicial, and succeeded even to the over¬ throwing both of the Church and the State. The real Puritans (allowing the nickname,) had suffered like their Master, remembering his word, “ Vengeance is mine, I will repay.” He did, indeed, terribly repay the despisers of religion. By the Anti- nomian descendants of his persecuted followers, he awfully avenged the cause of those who had, in well doing, and patient suffering , committed themselves to Him who judgeth righteously. Thus God ordainetk his am'ows against the persecutors. The Gospel, however, was disgraced, and the truly pious were offended ; and though we are certainly, (through Him who always brings good out of evil,) indebted to that awful misrule for much of our civil and religious liberty, yet the wound then inflicted on vital godliness has not been fully healed unto this day. The Wesley family, settled at Epworth, had imbibed this spirit of offence, with a considerable portion of contempt for those who still professed this Puritanical or Presbyterian Faith, as it was then called; although it was, in substance, the very faith of the Gospel, and of the Church of England. The family were eminent for learning, and sound in the faith, that is, in the doctrines of Christianity; but they were strangers to the living faith of the Gospel, not one of the family even professing any thing of the kind. The excellent mother, indeed, had an early knowledge of it from her pious father, who died in the full triumph of that faith. This might have led her to the possession of that pearl of great price ; but other sentiments were entertained, which damped the real work divine. Like the first believers at Ephesus, the family knew only the baptism or dispensation of John, and needed to be taught, even by the unlearned, the way of God more perfectly . The baptism of the Holy Ghost, especially as being the privilege of all believers, was then but seldom mentioned. A legalized Gospel, that gave full employment to the understanding, but left the heart cold and unrenewed, was the fashionable Gospel of that day. The teaching was generally like that which is found in Secker’s Lectures to Candi¬ dates for the Ministry.—“ Gentlemen,” says that pious divine, “ I have no fear concerning your faith, but I greatly fear lest you should not have repentance.” Such theology as this was not calculated to abase the sinner, or to create him anew in Christ Jesus. Impenitent faith is certainly not the faith whereby, as our church teaches, a sinner is justi¬ fied before God, and by it alone ; nor can it be the faith of God’s elect; nor can it produce righteousness, peace, and joy; nor can a repentance, grounded on such a faith, be repentance unto life. We need not won¬ der, therefore, that when the true doctrine of faith came into the family, it should be looked upon, as Mr. Gambold observes, as a downright robber. “ If you speak of faith,” observes that pious theologian, “ in such a manner as makes Christ a Saviour to the uttermost,—a most universal help and refuge,—in such a manner as takes away all glory¬ ing, but adds happiness to wretched man ; as discovers a greater pollu- 64 THE RELATIVES OF tion in the best of* us, than we would before acknowledge, but brings a greater deliverance than we could before expect: If any one offers to talk at this rate, he shall be heard with the same abhorrence as if he was going to rob mankind of their salvation.” The family were eventually thus divided ; and not only about the true faith of the Gospel, by which we should learn from the Divine Author of it to be the friends of sinners, and to sit down on a level with them as soon as they begin to repent; but about that semblance of it, in its fruits and effects, which Mr. John Wesley had learned from Mr. Law, and other mystic writers, and inculcated in his latter visits to his father’s house. When, as he informed me, he carried even this faith into the family, it seemed to turn the house upside down. “ Never,” said he, “ did I see my mother so moved. Upon one occasion she said, with more appearance of anger than ever I saw in her before, ‘ Shall / be taught by a boy V ” But his father exerted a more sturdy resistance ; and when the son, from the height of his mystic elevation, would enforce the purity which he had learned from his contemplative friend, the old man desired him “ to get out of his house with his apostolical nostrums !” They were not, indeed, apostolical ; for they had not the evangelical root, I the chief of sinners am, But Jesus died for me I This the whole family had yet to learn. Mr. Charles Wesley used to say, even in old age, “ Mr. Law was our John the Baptist.” He put them on a kind of penance, which thoroughly showed them their own hearts, but which gave them no victory over sin ; no peace or joy in believing. The two brothers, however, held on their way, and became the Apostles, not only of their own family, but of the nation, yea, (and in a high sense,) of the world. I shall not, therefore, in this history, divide whom God thus joined, by considering Mr. Charles Wesley apart, or merely as one of the original stock ; but shall present him as bound up in the same bundle of life with his devoted brother. The day of faith, called by the world, and by worldly writers, “ the day of enthusiasm,” now swiftly approached ; that day, which was, chiefly through their ministry, To fill the earth with golden fruit, With ripe Millennial love. The faith of the Gospel, though it could scarcely be seen in any of the existing religious communities, except in their forms or confessions, was not, however, extinct in the land. There were individuals at this time who enjoyed it in its peace, power, and purity. Two letters now lie before me which fully prove, that when Mr. Wesley shook the nation, by publicly declaring that faith , it was found to have its seat in the hearts of some whom the Lord knew, though they were unknown to man. We have heard Mr. Wesley breathing out his soul in those words, Ah ! join me to thy secret ones! Ah! gather all thy living stones! And we have seen the fabled power of Amphion’s lyre gloriously real¬ ised. These living stones were djawn by the music of “ that only name given unto men whereby they can be saved .” They gathered round the standard of truth when they saw it exalted, and comforted IHE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 65 the heart of the Lord’s servant, who had the boldness to raise it up even in the highways. These letters were written in the year 1738, after Mr. Wesley had attained to the true faith of the Gospel, and was labouring to propagate it in the face of all manner of reproach and opposition. They describe the same work of grace, as having been experienced by the writer eighteen years before, when the Wesley family were either totally ignorant of any such faith, or deeply preju¬ diced against it. “ My Dear Friend, whom I love in the truth,—Grace be with you, and peace from God our Father, in our Lord Jesus Christ. I protest by the rejoicing which I have in Christ Jesus my Lord, I die daily to myself, and grow stronger and stronger in the power of my Saviour’s resurrection. The refreshments that come from his presence into my soul, satisfy it, as it were, with marrow and fatness. I know my Sa¬ viour’s voice, and my heart bums with love and desire to follow him in the regeneration , having no confidence in the flesh. I loath myself, and love him only. My dear brother, my spirit even at this moment rejoices in God my Saviour; and the love , which is shed abroad in my heart by the Holy Ghost , so destroys all self-love, that I could lay down my life for the good of my brethren. May Jesus remember you, now he is in his kingdom; for he quickeneth whomsoever he will, and has now power upon earth to forgive sins. I know that my Redeemer liveth , and have confidence towards God, that, through his blood, my sins are forgiven. He has begotten me again, and loves and delivers me from the power of sin, so that it has no dominion over me. His Spirit bears witness with my spirit , that I am his child by adoption and grace . And this is not for works of righteousness which I have done , for I am his workman¬ ship , created in Christ Jesus unto good works; so that all boasting is excluded. I was found of him that sought him not; and of this I am confident, that whosoever cometh to him , he will in nowise cast him out . It is now about eighteen years since Jesus took possession of my heart. He then opened my eyes, and said unto me, Son , be of good cheer , thy sins are forgiven ; and since that time, the whole bent of my will has been towards him, night and day, even in my dreams! By abiding in him I am more than conqueror, (through his strengthening me,) over those corruptions which before I was always a slave to. I have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them yet. The Comforter will lead you into all truth , and his unction will show you far, far greater things than the most exalted wisdom of man can attain to. Now the God of peace , which brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus Christ , that Great Shepherd of the sheep , through the blood of the ever¬ lasting covenant , make you perfect in every good work , working in you that which is well-pleasing in his sight; to him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus. May you, and all those who wait for his appearing, find the consolation of Israel! This is the earnest prayer of “ Your affectionate brother in Christ, “ William Fish.” The second letter was evidently written in answer to some inquiries made by Mr. Wesley. “London, December 5th, 1738. “ My dear Friend, —I cannot but acknowledge that my joys are ' sometimes abated by sorrow, but then mv sorrow is after a godly sort. 66 THE RELATIVES OP THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. so that I must not say my joys are interrupted: For although heaviness endures for a night, unspeakable joy cometh in the morning. I am always in a habitual disposition for prayer, though I have not always the same fervency in prayer. I can in every thing , without exception, give thanks ; especially as troubles and afflictions have abounded, so, in an extraordinary degree, consolations in Christ have abounded also. My dear friend, bear with my narration after what manner I was born of God. It was an instantaneous act. My whole heart was filled with a divine power, a joy unspeakable, drawing all the faculties of my soul after Christ, which continued three or four nights and days. It was as a mighty rushing wind coming into the soul, enabling me from that moment to be more than conqueror over those lusts and corruptions which, before that time, I was enslaved to. It is a salvation beyond what we can express. I know 1 dwell in Christ and Christ in me. I am bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. And what shall I say? O that I were dissolved, that I might be with him where he is ! But I will wait till he summons me hence; for his time is best. O that I might have my request, and that God would grant the thing that I long for! viz. that you and all that desire 1 The Beloved ,’ may be espoused to him, and receive the earnest of that inheritance which is incorruptible and fadeth not away, reserved for those who are kept by the power of God , through faith , unto salvation, ready to be revealed in these last times. “ Your sincere friend and brother in Christ, “ William Fish.” These letters must have greatly strengthened Mr. Wesley in the faith which he received after his return from America, chiefly through the instrumentality of Peter Boehler. He saw by them, that the true faith of the Gospel was in England a long time before it was presented to him by the Moravian Missionaries. He saw also in these letters the reality of that faith, which is described in the Seventeenth Article of the Church of England, and in her Communion Service. They must also have greatly helped him to resist those Antinomian attacks, by which that faith was assailed soon after its reappearance. They show that the true witness of the Spirit, without which there can be no deliverance from guilt, always proves its divine origin by its holy fruits. THE LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. BOOK THE SECOND. CHAPTER I. THE LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, FROM HIS BIRTH TO THE YEAR 1735 ; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF HIS BROTHER, THE REV. CHARLES WESLEY. Mr. John Wesley was the second son of Samuel and Susannah Wesley, and bom at Epworth in Lincolnshire, on the 17th of June, 1703, 0. S. There has indeed been some variation in the accounts given of his age by different persons of the family ; but the certificate of it, sent him by his father a little before he was ordained priest, to satisfy the Bishop concerning his age, puts the matter beyond a doubt. “ Epworth, August 23, 1728. “ John Wesley, m. a., Fellow of Lincoln College, was twenty-five years old the 17th of June last, having been baptized a few hours after his birth, by me, “ Samuel Wesley, Rector of Epworth.” When he was nearly six years old, a calamity happened which threat¬ ened him, and indeed the whole family, with destruction. By accident, as all that have written concerning it have supposed, but according to his own account, by the wickedness of some of his father’s parishioners, who could not bear the plain dealing of so faithful and resolute a pastor, the parsonage-house was set on fire. The following anecdote, related to me by Mr. John Wesley, will throw some light upon this event. Many of his father’s parishioners gave him much trouble about the tithes. At one time they would only pay in kind. Going into a field, upon one of those occasions, where the tithe-com was laid out, Mr. Wesley found a farmer very deliberately at work with a pair of shears, cutting off the ears of corn and putting them into a bag which he had brought with him for that purpose. Mr. Wesley said not any thing to him, but took him by the arm and walked with him into the town. When they got into the market-place, Mr. Wesley seized the bag, and, turning it inside out before all the people, told them what the farmer had been doing. He then left him, with his pilfered spoils, to the judgment of his neighbours, and walked quietly home. THE LIFE OF b8 A letter from Mrs. Susannah Wesley to the Rev. Mr. Hoolp, gives the best account of this calamitous fire. It is dated August 24,1709. “ Reverend Sir, —My master is much concerned that he was so unhappy as to miss of seeing you at Epworth; and he is not a little troubled that the great hurry of business, about building his house, will not afford him leisure to write. He has therefore ordered me to satisfy your desire as well as I can, which I shall do by a simple relation of matters of fact, though I cannot at this distance of time recollect every calamitous circumstance that attended our strange reverse of fortune. On Wednesday night, February the 9th, between the hours of eleven and twelve, our house took fire; by what accident God only knows. It was discovered by some sparks falling from the roof upon a bed, where one of the children (Hetty) lay, and burning her feet. She immediately ran to our chamber and called us ; but I believe no one heard her; for Mr. Wesley was alarmed by a cry of fire in the street, upon which he rose, little imagining that his own house was on fire ; but on opening his door, he found it was full of smoke, and that the roof was already burnt through. He immediately came to my room, (as 1 was very ill, he lay in a sepa¬ rate room from me,) and bid me and my two eldest daughters rise quickly and shift for our lives, the house being all on fire. Then he ran and burst open the nursery-door, and called to the maid to bring out the children. The two little ones lay in the bed with her; the three others in another bed. She snatched up the youngest, and bid the rest follow, which they did, except Jacky. When we were got into the hall, and saw ourselves surrounded with flames, and that the roof was on the point of falling, we concluded ourselves inevitably lost, as Mr. Wesley in his fright had forgot the keys of the doors above stairs. But he ventured up stairs once more, and recovered them, a minute before the staircase took fire. When we opened the street door, the strong northeast wind drove the flames in with such violence, that none could stand against them : Mr. Wesley, only, had such pre¬ sence of mind as to think of the garden door, out of which he helped some of the children ; the rest got through the windows. I was not in a condition to climb up to the windows ; nor could I get to the garden door. I endeavoured three times to force my passage through the street door, but was as often beat back by the fury of the flames. In this distress I besought our blessed Saviour to preserve me, if it were his will, from that death; and then waded through the fire, naked as I was, which did me no farther harm than a little scorching [of] my hands and face. “ While Mr. Wesley was carrying the children into the garden, he heard the child in the nursery cry out miserably for help, which extremely affected him; but his affliction was much increased, when he had seve¬ ral times attempted the stairs then on fire, and found they would not bear his weight. Finding it was impossible to get near him, he gave him up for lost, and kneeling down, he commended his soul to God, and left him, as he thought, perishing in the flames. But the boy see¬ ing none come to his help, and being frightened, the chamber and bed being on fire, he climbed up to the casement, where he was soon per¬ ceived by the men in the yard, who immediately got up and pulled him out, just in the article of time that the roof fell in, and beat the chamber THE ItEV. JOHN WESLEY. 69 out, just in the article of time that the roof fell in, and beat the chamber to the ground. Thus, by the infinite mercy of Almighty God, our lives were all preserved by little less than miracle; for there passed but a few minutes between the first alarm of fire, and the falling of the house.” Mr. John Wesley’s account of what happened to himself, varies a little fr om this relation given by his mother. “ I believe,” says he, “ it was just at that time (when they thought they heard him cry) I waked: for I did not cry, as they imagined, unless it was afterwards. I remem¬ ber all the circumstances as distinctly as though it were but yesterday. Seeing the room was very light, I called to the maid to take me up. But none answering, I put my head out of the curtains and saw streaks of fire on the top of the room. I got up and ran to the door, but could get no farther, all the floor beyond it being in a blaze. I then climbed upon a chest which stood near the window: one in the yard saw me, and proposed running to fetch a ladder. Another answered, 4 there will not be time: but I have thought of another expedient. Here I will fix myself against the wall: lift a light man, and set him on my shoulders.’ They did so, and he took me out of the'window. Just then the roof fell; but it fell inward, or we had all been crushed at once. When they brought me into the house where my father was, he cried out, 4 Come, neighbours ! let us kneel down ! let us give thanks to God! He has given me all my eight children: let the house go, I am rich enough !’ 44 The next day, as he was walking in the garden, and surveying the ruins of the house, he picked up part of a leaf of his Polyglott Bible, on which just these words were legible :— Vade; vende omnia quce habes , et attolle crucem , et sequere me. Go : sell all that thou hast: and take up thy cross , and follow me.” The memory of Mr. John Wesley’s escape is preserved in one of his early prints. Under his portrait there is a house in flames, with this inscription: 44 Is not this a brand, plucked out of the burning ?” He remembered this event ever after with the most lively gratitude, and more than once has introduced it in his writings. The peculiar danger and wonderful escape of this child, excited a good deal of attention and inquiry at the time, especially among the friends and relations of the family. His brother Samuel, being then at Westminster, writes to his mother on this occasion in the following words, complaining that they did not inform him of the particulars. 44 I have not heard a word from the country since the first letter you sent me after the fire. I am quite ashamed to go to any of my rela¬ tions. They ask me, 4 whether my father means to leave Epworth ? whether he is building his house ? whether he has lost all his books and papers ? if nothing was saved ? what was the lost child ? a boy or a girl 1 what was its name V &c. To all which I am forced to answer, I cannot tell; I do not know; I have not heard. I have asked my father some of these questions, but am still an ignoramus.” All the children received the first rudiments of learning from their mother, who, as we have seen, was admirably qualified for this office in her own family. There is no evidence that the boys were ever put to any school in the country, their mother having a very bad opinion of the common methods of instructing and governing children. But she Vol. I. 10 70 THE LIFE OF was not only attentive to their progress in learning, she likewise endea¬ voured to give them, as early as possible, just and useful notions of religion. Her mind seems to have been led to a more than ordinary attention to her son John in this respect. In one of her private medi¬ tations, when he was near eight years old, she mentions him, in a man¬ ner that shows how much her heart was engaged in forming his mind for religion. I shall transcribe the whole meditation for the benefit of the reader. “ Evening, May 17, 1711.—Son John. “What shall I render to the Lord for his mercies? The little un¬ worthy praise that I can offer, is so mean and contemptible an offering, that I am even ashamed to tender it. But, Lord, accept it for the sake of Christ, and pardon the deficiency of the sacrifice. “ I would offer thee myself, and all that thou hast given me ; and I would resolve, (0 give me grace to do it,) that the residue of my life shall be all devoted to thy service. And I do intend to be more particu¬ larly careful of the soul of this child, that thou hast so mercifully pro¬ vided for, than ever I have been ; that I may do my endeavour to instil into his mind the principles of thy true religion, and virtue. Lord, give me grace to do it sincerely and prudently, and bless my attempts with good success.” Her good endeavours were not without the desired effect. In the month of April, 1712, he had the smallpox, together with four others of the children. His father was then in London, to whom his mother writes thus: “ Jack has bore his disease bravely like a man, and indeed like a Christian, without any complaint; though he seemed angry at the smallpox when they were sore, as we guessed by his looking sourly at them, for he never said any thing.” In 1714, he was placed at the Charter-house, with that eminent scholar, Dr. Walker, th$ Head-Master, and became a favourite on account of his sobriety and application. Ever after, he retained a remarkable predilection for that place, and was accustomed to walk through it once a year during his annual visit in London. He had some reasons however to complain of the usage he received at the Charter-house. Discipline was so ex¬ ceedingly relaxed, that the boys of the higher forms were suffered to eat up, not only their own portions of animal food, but those also which were allowed to the lesser boys. By this means he was limited, for a considerable part of the time he remained at that school, to a small daily portion of bread as his only solid food. One thing he observed, which contributed among others to his general flow of health, and to the establishment of his constitution,—and that was, his invariable atten¬ tion to a strict command of his father, that he should run round the Charter-house garden, which was of considerable extent, three times every morning. In 1719, when his father was hesitating in what situation he should place Charles, his brother Samuel writes thus concerning John : “My brother Jack, I can faithfully assure you, gives you no manner of discou¬ ragement from breeding your third son a scholar.” Two or three months afterwards he mentions him again, in a letter to his father: “Jack Ife’ with me, and a brave boy, learning Hebrew as fast as he can.” THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 71 He was now sixteen, and the next year was elected to Christ Church, Oxford. Here he pursued his studies with great advantage, I believe under the direction of Dr. Wigan, a gentleman eminent for his classical knowledge. Mr. Wesley’s natural temper in his youth was gay and sprightly, with a turn for wit and humour. When he was about twenty- one years of age, “ he appeared,” as Mr. Badcock has observed, “ the very sensible and acute collegian—a young fellow of the finest classi¬ cal taste, of the most liberal and manly sentiments.”* His perfect knowledge of the classics gave a smooth polish to his wit, and an air of superior elegance to all his compositions. He had already begun to amuse himself occasionally with writing verses, though most of his poetical pieces at this period, were, I believe, either imitations or trans¬ lations of the Latin. Some time in this year, however, he wrote an imitation of the 65th Psalm, which he sent to his father, who says, “ I like your verses on the 65th Psalm, and would not have you bury your talent.” In the summer of this year, his brother, Mr. Samuel Wesley, broke his leg; and, when he was recovering wrote to Mr. John Wesley at Oxford, informing him of his misfortune. His answer is dated the 17th of June, when he was just twenty-one years of age. The letter shows his lively and pleasant manner of writing when young. “ I believe,” says he, “ I need not use many arguments to show I am sorry for your misfortune, though at the same time I am glad you are in a fair way of recovery. If I had heard of it from any one else, I might probably have pleased you with some impertinent consolations ; but the way of your relating it is a sufficient proof, that they are what you don’t stand in need of. And indeed, if I understand you rightly, you have more reason to thank God that you did not break both, than to repine because you have broke one leg. You have undoubtedly heard the story of the Dutch seaman, who having broke one of his legs by a fall from the main-mast, instead of condoling himself, thanked God that he had not broke his nepk. I scarce know whether your first news vexed me, or your last news pleased me, more : but I can assure you, that though I did not cry for grief at the former, I did for joy at the latter part of your letter. The two things which I most wished for of almost any thing in the world, were to see my mother, and Westminster once again; and to see them both together, was so far above my expect¬ ations that I almost looked upon it as next to an impossibility. I have been so very frequently disappointed when I had set my heart on any pleasure, that I will never again depend on any before it comes. How¬ ever, I shall be obliged to you if you will tell me, as near as you can, how soon my uncle is expected in England,| and my mother in London.” To this letter Dr. Whitehead has appended some amatory lines, which, he says, 11 afford a specimen of the writer’s abilities to give a beautiful and elegant dress to verses intended as ridicule.” This palliative phrase is contradicted by the lines themselves, which undoubt¬ edly have not the least appearance of being “ intended as ridicule.” * Westminster Magazine. •f The uncle here mentioned was his mother’s only brother. He was in the service of the East India Company; and the public prints having stated, that he was returning home in one of the Company’s ships, Mrs. Wesley came to London when the ship arrived, to meet him. But the information was false, and she was disappointed .—Private Payers. I sliali notice this brother in a subsequent part of these Memoirs. 72 THE LIFE OF What the Doctor’s motives might have been for granting them a place in his “ Life of Mr. Wesley,” it is difficult to conjecture; but if, with the greatest stretch of charity, we can suppose it possible for them to have been inserted with an intention to enhance Mr. Wesley’s character, few men will venture to call the publication of them either candid or judicious. The sinister purposes to which they are capable of being applied by men of perverse minds, are shown by Mr. Nightingale, in his “ Portraiture of Methodism,” who, with great injustice, quotes them as a standard of Mr. Wesley’s talents for poetry, and a serious drawback on his piety. His reflections upon this juvenile production are, “ that Mr. Wesley was not quite that dark, saturnine creature which Arch¬ bishop Herring took him to be ; and that he was not then so Method- istical, as at a subsequent period of his life.” The distress of Mr. Nightingale’s own mind, and the compunctious visitiijgs of his con¬ science for having published these and similar unfounded remarks upon Mr. Wesley and his friends, are well described in the frank and penitent confession which he made in the immediate prospect of death, and which, at his urgent request, my excellent friend Mr. Bunting inserted in “the Wesleyan Methodist Magazine,” for November 1823. In alluding to these circumstances, I have no other object in view, than to vindicate Mr. Wesley’s memory, and to guard the public against the insinuations which have been artfully conveyed respecting a man, who, even in his unregenerate condition, was remarkable for chaste conver¬ sation and correct moral conduct. On perusing the narrative both of Dr. Whitehead and Mr. Nightin¬ gale, the learned reader will at once perceive, that neither of them had enjoyed the advantages of an early classical education, and that they were consequently unacquainted with the course of studies usually pur¬ sued at our Universities. Dr. Whitehead, indeed, subsequently took a degree in Medicine at the University of Leyden ; but, to obtain a medi¬ cal diploma, a student is not required to exhibit that extensive know¬ ledge of classic lore which is indispensible for securing him a degree either in Arts or Divinity. Omitting any allusion to the objection¬ able passages, which are of occasional occurrence in the ancient Classic Poets of Greece and Rome,—and which are, promiscuously with others, translated into English verse, by the young men in our great public schools and Universities, merely as a trial of skill without adverting to the moral turpitude of some of the sentiments, or to their probable dese¬ crating effect,—it may be observed, that the verses quoted by Dr. Whitehead were a college exercise of this description, and translated by Mr. Wesley from the Latin. Such exercises were more common in those days, and for a century preceding, than they are at present. The youthful and witty translator, it is seen, was then only in his twenty- first year, and had not felt those deep convictions of the sinfulness of his nature which he afterwards endured. The real Christianity, or “ Methodism of his subsequent life,” therefore, was not in the least implicated in this juvenile effusion. Making no pretensions to purer principles, or to a stricter course of conduct, than his college friends, (to adopt another of Mr. Nightingale’s phrases,) at that period Mr. Wesley “ thought it no sin to exercise his talents in translating a Poem on A favourite Flea , Chloe’s rosy Cheek” &c. But though the verses • contained no sentiment of an absolutely immoral complexion,—a favour- THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 73 able circumstance, which cannot be offered in excuse for the early sallies of wit of many collegians who have afterwards become as eminent for their piety as for their talents*—Mr. Wesley would, a few years after¬ wards, have been ashamed at the sight of them ; and he certainly would never have supposed, that any man, who could present them to the public as one of his compositions, entertained a proper regard for his character, especially when that individual might, out of a multitude of other choice materials, have easily selected a better and more edifying “ specimen of his poetical abilities.”—But the wise designs of God’s Providence, as proved by their results, were, that Mr. Wesley should soon be engaged in more ennobling and salutary studies than are implied in a scrupulous attention to the little prettinesses of poetic expression, and that he should gain brighter and more durable trophies than any which the whole course of human learning could bestow. Towards the close of this year, Mr. Wesley began to think of enter¬ ing into Deacon’s Orders ; and this led him to reflect on the importance of the ministerial office, the motives of entering into it, and the neces¬ sary qualifications for it. On examining the step he intended to take, through all its consequences to himself and others, it appeared of the greatest magnitude, and made so deep an impression on his mind, that he became more serious than usual, and applied himself with more attention to subjects of divinity. Some doubts arising in his mind on the motives which ought to influence a man in taking Holy Orders, he proposed them to his father, with a frankness that does great credit to the integrity of his heart. His father’s answer is dated the 26th of January, 1725. “As to what you mention of entering into Holy Orders, it is indeed a great work, and I am pleased to find you think it so. As to the motives you take notice of, my thoughts are : if it is no harm’f to desire getting into that office, even as Eli’s sons, 4 to eat a piece of bread? yet, certainly, a desire and intention to lead a stricter life, and a belief that one should do so, is a better reason : Though this should, by all means, be begun before, or ten to one it will deceive us afterwards. But if a man be unwilling and undesirous to enter into Orders, it is easy to guess whether he can say so much as, with common honesty, that he trusts he is 4 moved to it by the Holy Ghost.’ But the principal spring and motive, to which all the former should be only secondary, must cer¬ tainly be the glory of God, and the service of his Church in the edifica¬ tion of our neighbour. And wo to him*who, with, any meaner leading view, attempts so sacred a work !” He then mentions the qualifications necessary for Holy Orders, and answers a question which his son asked. 44 You ask me, which is the best commentary on the Bible ? I answer, the Bible itself. «For the several Paraphrases and Translations of it in the Polyglott, compared with the Original, and with one another, are, in my opinion, to an honest, devout, industrious, and humble man, infinitely * If every man, who, in the days of his unbridled boyhood, has written foolish or wicked verses, must ever afterwards be stigmatized for such acts of indiscretion, what will become of the fair fame of the pious Beza, the learned Grotius, the clever Du Moulin, and'several others of equal eminence among our own countrymen ? One of the able Latin pamphlets of Grotius contains a befitting and penitential apology for himself, in which many of his offend¬ ing brethren would have heartily united : “ How much do I wish, that all those excitements to marriage and to wars had been destroyed! And that sacred poems, and such as have a tendency to inculcate good morals and form correct habits, were the sole productions that remained.”— Rivet. Apologet. Discussio. f I doubt this under the Christian dispensation. THE LIFE OF 74 preferable to any comment I ever saw. But Grotius is the best, for the most part, especially on the Old Testament.” He then hints to his son, that he thought it too soon for him to take Orders; and encourages him to work and write while he could. “You see,” says he, “time has shaken me by the hand ; and death is but a little behind him. My eyes and heart are now almost all I have left; and I bless God for them.” His mother wrote to him in February on the same subject, and seem¬ ed desirous that he should enter into Orders as soon as possible. “ I think,” says she, “the sooner you are a Deacon the better, because it may be an inducement to greater application in the study of practical divinity, which, of all other studies, I humbly conceive to be the best for candidates for Orders.”—“ The alteration of your temper,” says she, in the same letter, “has occasioned me much speculation. I, who am apt to be sanguine, hope it may proceed from the operations of God’s Holy Spirit, that, by taking off your relish for earthly enjoyments, he may prepare and dispose your mind for a more serious and close appli¬ cation to things of a more sublime and spiritual nature. If it be so, happy are you, if you cherish those dispositions! And now, in good earnest, resolve to make religion the business of your life ; for, after all, that is the one thing that, strictly speaking, is necessary: all things besides are comparatively little to the purposes of life. I heartily wish you would now enter upon a strict examination of yourself, that you may know whether you have a reasonable hope of salvation by Jesus Christ. If you have, the satisfaction of knowing it will abundantly reward your pains; if you have not, you will find a more reasonable occasion for tears, than can be met with in a tragedy. This matter deserves great consideration by all, but especially by those designed for the ministry; who ought, above all things, to make their own calling and election sure, lest after they have preached to others , they themselves should be cast away.” He began now to apply himself with diligence to the study of divinity, and became more desirous of entering into Orders. He wrote twice to his father on this subject. His father answered him in March, and informed him, that he had changed his mind, and was then inclined that he should take Orders that summer: “ But, in the first place,” says he, “ if you love yourself or me, pray heartily.” The books which, at this time, had the greatest influence on his mind, were the Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis, and Bishop Taylor’s Rides of Holy Living and Hying. He did not, indeed, impli¬ citly receive every thing they taught; but they roused his attention to the whole spirit of the Christian religion. “ He began to see, that true religion is seated in the heart, and that God’s law extends to all our thoughts, as well as words and actions.* He was, however, very angry at Kempis for being too strict, though he then read him only in Dean Stanhope’s translation.”! This was a singular feature in Mr. Wesley’s character. Contrary to the disposition of most young men who have been educated in the habits of study, he was diffident of his own judg¬ ment ; and this disposition is visible through the whole of his life. On this occasion, he consulted his parents, stated his objections to some things in Kempis, and asked their opinion. His letter is dated May 29. “ I was lately advised,” says he, “ to read Thomas a Kempis * Wesley’s Works, in 32 volumes, vol. xxvi, p. 274. f Ibid. THE EEV. JOHN WESLEY* 75 over, which I had frequently seen, but never much looked into before. I think he must have been a person of great piety and devotion; but it is my misfortune to differ from him in some of his main points. I cannot think, that when God sent us into the world, he had irreversibly decreed, that we should be perpetually miserable in it. If our taking up the cross imply our bidding adieu to all joy and satisfaction, how is it reconcilable with what Solomon expressly affirms of religion, that 4 her ways are ways of pleasantness , and all her paths are peace V Another of his tenets is, that all mirth or pleasure is useless, if not sinful, and that nothing is an affliction to a good man—that he ought to thank God even for sending him misery. This, in my opinion, is con¬ trary to God’s design in afflicting us ; for though he chasteneth those whom he loveth, yet it is in order to humble them. I hope, when you have time, you will give me your thoughts on these subjects, and set me right if I am mistaken.” His mother’s letter, in answer to this, is dated June the 8th, in which she says, “ I take Kempis to have been an honest, weak man, that had more zeal than knowledge, by his condemning all mirth or pleasure, as sinful or useless, in opposition to so many direct and plain texts of Scripture.* Would you judge of the lawfulness or unlawfulness of pleasure, of the innocence or malignity of actions—take this rule : Whatever weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of your con¬ science, obscures your sense of God, or takes off the relish of spiritual things ; in short, whatever increases the strength and authority of your body over your mind; that thing is sin to you, however innocent it may be in itself.” His father’s letter is dated July 14. “ As for Thomas a Kempis,” says he, “ all the world are apt to strain either on one side or the other; but, for all that, mortification is still an indispensible Christian duty. The world is a Siren, and we must have a care of her: and if the 4 young man ’ will 4 rejoice in his youth ,’ yet let him take care that his joys be innocent; and, in order to this, remember, that 1 for all these things God will bring him into judgment .’ I have only this to add of my friend and old companion, that, making some grains of allowance, he may be read to great advantage ; nay, that it is almost impossible to peruse him seriously without admiring, and I think in some measure imitating his heroic strains of humility, piety, and devotion. But I reckon you have, before this, received your mother’s letter, who has leisure to bolt the matter to the bran.” He consulted his mother in another letter, dated June the 18th, on some things which he had met with in Bishop Taylor. “ You have so well satisfied me,” says he, “ as to the tenets of Thomas a Kempis, that I have ventured to trouble you once more on a more dubious sub¬ ject. I have heard one I take to be a person of good judgment say, that she would advise no one, very young, to read Dr. Taylor on Living and Dying. She added, that he almost put her out of her senses when she was fifteen or sixteen years old ; because he seemed to exclude all from being in a way of salvation who did not come up to his rules, some of which are altogether impracticable. A fear of being tedious will make me confine myself to one or two instances, in which I am doubt- * This is tender, yea, awful ground. Kempis meant the mirth and pleasures of the world. THE LIFE OF ?6 ful; though several others might be produced of almost equal conse¬ quence.” He then states, in reference to humility, that the Bishop says, u We must be sure, in some sense or other, to think ourselves the worst in every company where we come.” And in treating of repentance he says, “ Whether God has forgiven us or no, we know not: therefore be sorrowful for ever having sinned.”—“ I take the more notice of this last sentence,” says Mr. Wesley, “ because it seems to contradict his own words in the next section, where he says, that by the Lord’s Supper all the members are united to one another, and to Christ the Head. The Holy Ghost confers on us the graces necessary for, and our souls receive the seeds of, an immortal nature.* Now surely these graces are not of so little force as that we cannot perceive whether we have them or not; if we dwell in Christ, and Christ in us, which he will not do unless we are regenerate, certainly we must be sensible of it. If we can never have any certainty of our being in a state of salvation, good reason it is, that every moment should be spent, not in joy, but in fear and trembling; and then undoubtedly, in this life, we are of all men most miserable. God deliver us from such a fearful expectation as this ! Humility is undoubtedly necessary to salvation; and if all these things are essential to humility, who can be humble ? who can be saved V* His mother’s answer is dated July 21. She observes, that though she had a great deal of business, was infirm, and but slow of under¬ standing, yet it was a great pleasure to correspond with him on religious subjects, and if it, might be of the least advantage to him, she should greatly rejoice. She then tells him, that what Dr. Taylor calls humility is not the virtue itself, but the accidental effects of it, which may in some instances, and must in others, be separated from it. She then proceeds to state her own ideas of humility. “ Humility is the mean between pride, or an overvaluing ourselves, on one side, and a base abject temper, on the other. It consists in a habitual disposition to think meanly of ourselves ; which disposition is wrought in us by a true knowledge of God; his supreme essential glory ; his absolute immense perfection of being ; and a just sense of our dependance upon him, and past offences against him ; together with a consciousness of our present infirmities and frailties,” &c, &c. It is evident, that Dr. Taylor’s work had not only affected Mr. Wesley’s heart, but engaged him in the earnest pursuit of farther know¬ ledge. He therefore answered his mother’s letter on the 29th of July; and both this letter and the answer to it are worthy of being preserved; the one as a specimen of his manner of reasoning at this early period of life; and the other, as it affords some excellent practical observa¬ tions. They are too long to be inserted here ; I shall therefore only present the reader with an extract from each. “ You have much obliged me,” says he, “ by your thoughts on Dr. Taylor, especially with respect to humility, which is a point he does not seem to me sufficiently to clear. As to absolute humility, consist¬ ing in a mean opinion of ourselves, considered with respect to God alone, I can readily join with his opinion. But I am more uncertain as * So the pious Bishop was, in some sense, an advocate for Sacramental J ustification!— the great error of the present day. It is not likely, however, that he held it in the same way in which it is now maintained. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 77 to comparative, if I may so term it; and think some plausible reasons may be alleged to show, it is not in our power, and consequently not a virtue, to think ourselves the worst in every company. “ We have so invincible an attachment to truth already perceived, that it is impossible for us to disbelieve it. A distinct perception com¬ mands our assent, and the will is under a moral necessity of yielding to it. It is not, therefore, in every case, a matter of choice, whether we will believe ourselves worse than our neighbour, or not; since we may distinctly perceive the truth of this proposition, He is worse than I; and then the judgment is not free. One, for instance, who is in company with a freethinker, or other person signally debauched in faith and prac¬ tice, cannot avoid knowing himself to be the better of the two ;—these propositions extorting our assent: An Atheist is worse than a believer . A man ivho endeavours to please God is better than he who defies Him. “ If a true knowledge of God be necessary to absolute humility, a true knowledge of our neighbour should be necessary to comparative. But to judge one’s self the worst of all men, implies a want of such knowledge. No knowledge can be, where there is not certain evidence; which we have not, whether we compare ourselves with our acquaint¬ ance, or with strangers. In the one case, we have only imperfect evi¬ dence, unless we can see through the heart: in the other we have none at all. “ Again, this kind of humility can never be well-pleasing to God, since it does not flow from faith, without which it is impossible to please Him. Faith is a species of belief, and belief is defined ‘an assent to a proposition upon reasonable grounds.’ Without rational grounds there is therefore no belief, and consequently no faith. “ That we can never be so certain of the pardon of our sins as to be assured they will never rise up against us, I firmly believe. We know that they will infallibly do so, if ever we apostatize; and I am not satisfied what evidence there can be of our final perseverance, till we have finished our course. But I am persuaded, we may know if we are now in a state of salvation, since that is expressly promised in the Holy Scriptures to our sincere endeavours, and we are surely able to judge of our own sincerity.* “As I understand faith to be an assent to any truth upon rational grounds, I do not think it possible, without perjury, to swear I believe any thing, unless I have rational grounds for my persuasion. Now that which contradicts reason, cannot be said to stand on rational grounds ; and such, undoubtedly, is every proposition which is incompatible with the Divine Justice or Mercy. I can therefore never say, I believe such a proposition; since it is impossible to assent upon reasonable evidence, where it is not in being. “ What then shall I say of Predestination ? An everlasting purpose of God to deliver some from damnation, does, I suppose, exclude all trom that deliverance who are not chosen. And if it was inevitably decreed from eternity, that such a determinate part of mankind should be saved, and none beside them, a vast majority of the world we^ only born to eternal death, without so much as a possibility of avoiding it. How is this consistent with either the Divine Justice or Mercy 1 Is it merciful to ordain a creature to everlasting misery? Is it just to punish man for * He saw the blessing , even at this time, but not the way to attain it II 78 THE LIFE OF crimes which he could not but commit? That God should be the author of sin and injustice, which must, I think, be the consequence of main¬ taining this opinion, is a contradiction to the clearest ideas we have of the Divine Nature and Perfections. “ I call faith, 4 an assent upon rational groundsbecause I hold Divine Testimony to be the most reasonable of all evidence whatever. Faith must necessarily, at length, be resolved into reason. God is true ; therefore, what he says is true : He hath said this ; therefore, this is true. When any one can bring me more reasonable propositions than these, I am ready to assent to them: till then, it will be highly unreasonable to change my opinion.” Men would be apt to think, that such an intellect, so improved, and so disposed, would be easily led into all “ the truth as it is in Jesus.” But the contrary will be seen in these memoirs. To bring such a mind to the simplicity of faith—to make it willing to lose its all and to find all in Christ, is indeed to remove a mountain! But when brought to this, how mighty do we see that mind in operation! how steadfast and unmoveable in all its actings ! We see, in this letter, how seriously Mr. Wesley had taken up the study of divinity ; and it is pleasing to observe, how early he adopted the opinion of General Redemption, which he so uniformly held, and so ably defended in the subsequent part of his life, without ever departing from evangelical truth. His mother’s letter is dated August the 18th : “ You say, that I have obliged you by sending my thoughts of humility, and yet you do not seem to regard them in the least; but still dwell on that single point in Dr. Taylor, of thinking ourselves the worst in every company ; though the necessity of thinking so, is not inferred from my definition. I shall answer your arguments, after I have observed, that we differ in our notions of the virtue itself. You will have it consist in thinking meanly of ourselves ; I, in a habitual disposition to think meanly of ourselves ; which 1 take to be more comprehensive, because it extends to all the cases wherein that virtue can be exercised, either in relation to God, ourselves, or our neighbour, and renders your distinction of absolute and comparative humility perfectly needless. “ We may, in many instances, think very meanly of ourselves without being humble; nay, sometimes our very pride will lead us to condemn ourselves; as when we have said or done any thing that lessens that esteem of men which we earnestly covet. As to what you call absolute humility, with respect to God, what great matter is there in it ? Had we only a mere speculative knowledge of that awful Being, and only con¬ sidered Him as the Creator and Sovereign Lord of the universe ; yet, since that first notion of him implies that he is a God of absolute and infinite perfection and glory, we cannot contemplate that glory, or con¬ ceive him present, without the most exquisite diminution of ourselves before hkn.* * But this is ntA the humility of a sinner. An angel may be, and no doubt is, thus abased before God. But a dinner is a condemned creature; the sentence of death is upon him, and if he is truly convinced of sin, he acknowledges, “ ’Tis just the sentence should take place.” A man cannot be justified , unless he is. thus humbled. He cannot pass from death unto life, but by the consciousness of his guilt, and by pleading the Lord of Life, who died for him.—See Mr. Wesley’s Sermon on Matt, v, 3, 4. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 79 ; > The other part of your definition I cannot approve, because I think ail those comparisons are rather the effects of pride than of humility. “ Though truth is the object of the understanding; and all truths, as such, agree in one common excellence, yet there are some truths which are comparatively of so small value, because of little use, that it is no matter whether we know them or not. Among these I rank the right answer to your question, whether our neighbour or we be worse. Of what importance can this inquiry be to us ? Comparisons in these cases are very odious, and do most certainly proceed from some bad.principle in those who make them. So far should we be from reasoning upon the case, that we ought not to permit ourselves to entertain such thoughts 5 but if they ever intrude, to reject them with abhorrence. “ Supposing that, in some cases, the truth of that proposition, My neighbour is worse than /, be ever so evident, yet what does it avail ? Since two persons, in different respects, may be better and worse than each other. There is nothing plainer than that a free-thinker, as a free¬ thinker, and an Atheist, as an Atheist, is worse in that respect than a believer, as a believer. But if that believer’s practice does not corres¬ pond to his faith, he is worse than an infidel. “ If we are not obliged to think ourselves the worst in every company, I am perfectly sure, that a man sincerely humble will be afraid to think himself the best in any. And though it should be his lot (for it can never be his choice) to fall into the company of notorious sinners; ‘ who makes thee to differ V or ‘ what hast thou that thou hast not received ?’* is sufficient, if well considered, to humble us, and silence all aspiring thoughts and self-applause ; and may instruct us to ascribe our preser¬ vation from enormous offences to the sovereign grace of God, and not to our own natural purity or strength. “ You are somewhat mistaken in your notions of faith. All faith is an assent, but all assent is not faith. Some truths are self-evident, and we assent to them because they are so. Others, after a regular and formal process of reason, by way of deduction from some self-evident principle, gain our assent. This is not properly faith, but science. Some, again, we assent to, not because they are self-evident, or because we have attained the knowledge of them in a regular method, by a train of arguments; but because they have been revealed to us, either by God or man, and these are the proper objects of faith. The true mea¬ sure of faith is, the authority of the revealer, the weight of which always holds proportion to our conviction of his ability and integrity. Divine faith is an assent to whatever God has revealed to us, because he has revealed it.”f It was impossible for Mr. Wesley to correspond with such a parent, and on such subjects, without being improved; and the effect of his present inquiries was deep and lasting. In reading Kempis, he tells us, that he had frequently much sensible comfort, such as he was an utter stranger to before. And the chapter in Dr. Taylor on purity of inten¬ tion^ convinced him of the necessity of being holy in heart, as well as * According to the Gospel, ‘ there is no difference ’ naturally before God. “ AU have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” (Rom. iii, 21.) The mighty difference is made by FAITH. f The remaining part of this Letter on Predestination is inserted in the Arminian Maga¬ zine, vol. i, page 36, though with an error in the date.—How far may we go in the know¬ ledge of the doctrine of faith, without ha ving living faith! 80 THE LIFE OF regular in his outward deportment. Meeting likewise with a religious friend about this time, which he never had before, he began to alter the whole form of his conversation, and to set in earnest upon a new life. He communicated every week. He watched against all sin, whether in word or deed; and began to aim at, and pray for, inward holiness. Having now determined to devote himself wholly to God, his letters to his parents carried a savour of religion, which before they had wanted; this made his father say to him in a letter of August the 2d, “ If you be but what you write, you and I shall be happy, and you will much alle¬ viate my misfortune.” He soon found that his son was not double- minded. The time of his Ordination now drew near. His father wrote to him on this subject, in a letter dated September the 7th, in which he says, “ God fit you for your great work! Fast, watch, and pray ; believe, love, endure, and be happy; towards which you shall never want the most ardent prayers of your affectionate father.” In preparing for his Or¬ dination, he found some scruples on his mind respecting the damnatory clauses in the Athanasian Creed ;* which he proposed to his father, who afterwards gave him his opinion upon it. Having prepared him¬ self with the most conscientious care for the ministerial office, he was ordained Deacon on Sunday the 19th of this month, by Dr. Potter, then Bishop of Oxford. Mr. Wesley’s Ordination supplied him with an additional motive to prosecute the study of Divinity; which he did, by directing his inquiries into the evidences and reasonableness of the Christian Religion. He wrote to his mother on this subject November the 3d, who, in her answer, dated the 10th, encourages him to persevere in such investiga¬ tions without any fear of being injured by them. “ I highly approve,” says she, “ of your care to search into the grounds and reasons of our most holy religion ; which you may do, if your intention be pure, and yet retain the integrity of your faith. Nay, the more you study on that subject, the more reason you will find to depend on the veracity of God; inasmuch as your perception of him will be clearer, and you will more plainly discover the congruity there is between the ordinances and pre¬ cepts of the gospel, and right reason*! Nor is it a hard matter to prove, that the whole system of Christianity is founded thereon.” But Mr. Wesley did not employ all his time in these studies. His private Diary shows how diligent he was in the study of the Classics, and other books in different, branches of science, and in the performance of his academical exercises. The time also drew near when it was expected, that the election of a Fellow of Lincoln College would take place; with a view to which his friends had been exerting themselves in his favour all the summer.! When Dr. Morley, the Rector, was spoken to on the subject, he said, “ I will inquire into Mr. Wesley’s character.” He did so, and gave him leave to stand a candidate. He afterwards became his friend in that business, and used all the influence he had in his favour. His father in a letter of July says, “ I waited on * See his Sermon on the Trinity. f If by right reason be meant, the reason of God, or the reasoning of the Eternal Mind, (if we may so speak of Him who reasons not,) Christianity is certainly founded thereon. But to the reason of fallen man, it is “foolishness and a man “ who would be wise , must thus become a fooV Neither the admirable mother, nor her admirable son, was as yet thus wise. t His father mentions it in his letter of the 26th of January, of this year. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 81 Dr. Morley, and found him more civil than ever. I will write to the Bishop of Lincoln again, and to your brother Samuel the next post. Study hard lest your opponents beat you.” In another letter, speaking of Dr. Morley, he says, “ You are infinitely obliged to that generous man.” Mr. Wesley’s uncommon seriousness, however, was against him; and he did not escape the banter and ridicule of his adversaries at Lin¬ coln College on this occasion. In reference to this, his father observes in a letter of August: “ As for the Gentlemen Candidates you write of— does any body think, that the devil has no agents left? It is a very callow virtue, sure, that cannot bear being laughed at. I think our Captain and Master endured something more for us, before he entered into glory : and unless we follow his steps, in vain do we hope to share that glory with him. Nor shall any who sincerely endeavour to serve him, either by turning others to righteousness, or keeping them steadfast in it, lose their reward.”—And in his letter of October the 19th, he exhorts him to bear patiently what was said of him at Lincoln: “ But be sure,” says he, “ never to return the like treatment to your enemy. You and I have hitherto done the best we could in that affair; do you continue to do the same, and rest the whole with Providence.” His mother writes to him on this occasion more in the way of encou¬ ragement and caution: ‘ 1 If it be,” says she, “ a weak virtue that cannot bear being laughed at, I am sure it is a strong and well-confirmed virtue that can bear the test of a brisk buffoonery. I doubt too many people, though well inclined, have yet made shipwreck of faith and a good con¬ science, merely because they could not bear raillery. Some young persons have a natural excess of bashfulness ; others are so tender of what they call honour, that they cannot endure to be made a jest of.— I would therefore advise those who are in the beginning of a Christian course, to shun the company of profane wits, as they would the plague ; and never to contract an intimacy with any, but such as have a good sense of religion.” But notwithstanding the warm opposition which his opponents made against him, Mr. Wesley’s general good character for learning and dili¬ gence, gave such firmness and zeal to his friends, that on Thursday, March the 17th, 1726, he was elected Fellow of Lincoln College.* His father very emphatically expresses his satisfaction on this occasion, in a letter of the 1st of April.—“ I have both yours, since your election; in both, you express yourself as becometh you. What will be my own fate before the summer be over, God knows ; sed passi graviora — Wherever I am, my Jack is Fellow pf Lincoln.”—His mother, in a letter of March 30, tells him, in her usual strain of piety, “ I think myself obliged to return great thanks to Almighty God, for giving you good success at Lincoln. Let whoever He pleased be the instrument, to Him, and to Him alone, the glory appertains.” The Monday following his election, being March 21, he wrote to his brother Samuel,f expressing his gratitude for the assistance he had given him in that affair. W ith this letter he sent two or three copies of * Private Diary. f This letter, and the verses which accompanied it, were inserted some years ago, by Mr. Badcock, in the Westminster Magazine. The letter is there without a date, which 1 have taken from Mr. John Wesley’s Diary. Mr. Badcock tells the public, that he had a variety of curious papers by him, which show Mr. Wesley in a light which perhaps he had forgot, &c.—I shall have occasion to mention this circumstance in another place. THE LIFE OF 82 verses, which seem, by what he says of them, to have been written at an early period. “ I have not yet,” says he, “ been able to meet with one or two gentlemen, from whom I am in hopes of getting two or three copies of verses. The most tolerable of my own, if any such there were, you probably received from Leybum. Some of those I had besides, I have sent here ; and shall be very glad if they are capable of being so corrected, as to be of any service to you.”—He sent three specimens of his poetry with this letter : the two following I shall insert; which considered as hasty productions—as mere amusements— and sent in their rough state, I think every good judge will pronounce to be excellent. HORACE, LIB. I, ODE XXII. Integrity needs no defence; The man who trusts to innocence* Nor wants the darts Numidians throw. Nor arrows of the Parthian bow. Secure o’er Lybia’s sandy seas, Or hoary Caucasus he strays, O’er regions scarcely known to feme. Wash’d by Hydaspes’ fabled stream. While void of cares, of nought afraid, Late in the Sabine woods I stray’d; On Sylvia’s lips, while pleased I sung, . How love and soft persuasion hung! A rav’nous wolf, intent on food, Rush’d from the covert of the wood j Yet dared not violate the grove Secured by innocence and love; Nor Mauritania’s sultry plain So large a savage does contain; Nor e’er so huge a monster treads Warlike Apulia’s beechen shades. Place me where no revolving sun Does e’er his radiant circle run; Where clouds and damps alone appear, And poison the unwholesome year: Place me in that effulgent day Beneath the sun’s directer ray; No change from its fix’d place shall move The basis of my lasting love. * Horace, with his usual vanity, lays claim to innocence. If, however, we understand it as spoken of that evangelical innocence which comes by faith, how admirably true is the declaration! I cannot here refrain from presenting to the classical reader an anecdote communicated to me by the late Rev. B. Collins (afterwards Bury) of Bath. He was on a visit to the Rev. Mr. Pentecross of Wallingford; and when in company with that gentleman, and "several ministers of the Gospel, he gave them an account of the famous Abbe (afterwards Cardinal) Maury’s book on the Eloquence of the Pulpit; wherein the Abbe maintains, that the only way in which we can expect the Gospel to be received with respect by the world, is by cultivating the great talent of elocution. Mr. Pentecross remained silent during the discussion; but, on being asked his opinion, repeated from this Ode, in the original, Integer vitse, scelerisque purus Non eget Mauri — Perhaps there is not extant a better Latin pun. It also forcibly showed his opinion, that the power and purity of the Gospel did not need such meretricious ornament. 1 Cor. i, 17, 18. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. S3 TO A GENTLEMAN, ON THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER. In Imitation of Horace, lib. i, ode xxiv. Quis desiderio sit Pudor , Sfc. What shame shall stop our flowing tears? What end shall our just sorrows know ? Since fate, relentless to our prayers, Has given the long destructive blow! Ye Muses, strike the sounding string, In plaintive strains his loss deplore; And teach an artless voice to sing The great, the bounteous, now no more! For him the wise and good shall mourn, While late records his fame declare; And, oft as rolling years return, Shall pay his tomb a grateful tear. Ah! what avails their plaints to thee ? Ah! what avails his fame declared ? Thou blam’st, alas! the just decree, Whence virtue meets its just reward. Though sweeter sounds adorn’d thy tongue Than Thracian Orpheus whilom* play’d, When list’ning to the morning song, Each tree bow’d down its leafy head. Never! ah, never from the gloom Of unrelenting Pluto’s sway, Could the thin shade again resume Its ancient tenement of clay. Indulgent patience, heaven-born guest f JThy healing wings around display; Thou gently calm’st the stormy breast. And driv’st the tyrant grief away. Corroding care and eating pain, By just degrees thy influence own; And lovely, lasting peace again Resumes her long-deserted throne. ' His parents now invited him to spend some time with them in the country. Accordingly he left Oxford in April, and staid the whole summer at Epworth and Wroote. During this time he usually read prayers and preached twice on the Lord’s day, and in various ways assisted his father as occasion required. But he still pursued his studies, had frequent opportunities of conversing with his parents on subjects highly interesting and instructive, and kept a regular diary of what passed. He often takes notice of the particular subjects discussed in their various conversations, and mentions the practical observations his parents made, and sometimes adds his own. Among others, were the following: how to increase our faith, our hope, and our love of God : prudence, simplicity, sincerity, pride, vanity ; wit, humour, fancy, courtesy, and general usefulness. His parents made such observations as reflection and long experience had suggested to them, and he care¬ fully minuted down such rules and maxims as appeared to him important. Mr. Wesley returned to Oxford on the 21st of September, and resumed his usual course of studies. His literary character was now established in the University: he was acknowledged by all parties to be a man of talents, and an excellent critic in the learned languages. His compositions were distinguished by an elegant simplicity of style, * I am sorry this poor quaint word should find its way into lines so serious and so beau* tiful. Mr. Wesley would not have published it with that blemish. 84 THE LIFE OF and justness of thought, that strongly marked his classical taste. His skill in Logic, or the art of reasoning, was universally known and admired. The high opinion that was entertained of him, in these respects, was soon publicly expressed, by choosing him Greek Lecturer and Moderator of the Classes, on the 7th of November ; though he had only been elected Fellow of the College in March, was little more than twenty-three years of age, and had not yet proceeded Master of Arts. It has already appeared, that Mr. Wesley’s poetical talents were considerable : but they now assumed a more serious air. His para¬ phrase on the first eighteen verses of the 104th Psalm, is a more finished piece than any thing he had written before. He began to write it on the 19th of August this year, when at Epworth ; and it well deserves to be printed with accuracy. The original manuscript is now before me. PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CIV. Verse 1 Upborne aloft on vent’rous wing, While, spurning earthly themes, I soar Through paths untrod before, What God, what Seraph shall I sing ? Whom but thee should I proclaim, Author of this wond’rous frame ? Eternal, uncreated Lord, Enshrined in glory’s radiant blaze! At whose prolific voice, whose potent word, Commanded, nothing swift retired, and worlds began their race. Thou, brooding o’er the realms of night, Th’ unbottom’d infinite abyss, Badest the deep her rage surcease, And said’st, Let there be light! Etherial light thy call obey’d, Glad she left her native shade, Through the wide void her living waters past; Darkness turn’d his murmuring head, Resign’d the reins, and trembling fled; The crystal waves roll’d on, and fill’d the ambient waste. 3 In light, effulgent robe, array’d, Thou left’st the beauteous realms of day; The golden towers inclined their head, As their Sovereign took his way. 3,4 The all-encircling bounds, (a shining train Minist’ring flames around him flew,) \ Through the vast profound he drew, When lo! sequacious to his fruitful hand, Heaven o’er th’ uncolour’d void her azure curtain threw. Lo ! marching o’er the empty space, The fluid stores in order rise, With adamantine chains of liquid glass, To bind the new-born fabric of the skies. 3 Downward th’ Almighty Builder rode : • Old Chaos groan’d beneath the God: Sable clouds his pompous car; Harness’d winds before him ran, Proud to wear their Maker’s chain, And told, with hoarse-resounding voice, his coming from afar. 5 Embryon earth the signal knew, And rear’d from night’s dark womb her infant head, 6 Though yet prevailing waves her hills o’erspread, And stain’d their sickly face with pallid hue. 7 But when loud thunders the pursuit began, Back the affrighted spoilers ran : 3 In vain aspiring hills opposed their race; THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 85 9 10 11 12 13 14 16 1H 17 13 O’er hills and vales with equal haste, The flying squadrons past, Till safe within the walls of their appointed place : There, firmly fix’d, their sure enclosures stand, Unconquerable bound of ever-during sand ! He spake! From the tall mountain’s wounded side, Fresh springs rolled down their silver tide; O’er the glad vales the shining wanderers stray, Soft Murmuring as they flow, While in their cooling wave inclining low, The untaught natives of the field their parching thirst allay. High-seated on the dancing sprays, Chequering with varied light their parent streams, The feather’d quires attune their artless lays, Safe from the dreaded heat of solar beams. Genial showers at his command, Pour plenty o’er the barren land . Labouring with parent throes, See ! the teeming hills disclose A new birth ; see the cheerful green, Transitory, pleasing scene, O’er the smiling landscape glow. And gladden the vale below. Along the inotmtain’s craggy brow, Amiably dreadful now! See the clasping vine dispread Her gently rising, verdant head ! See the purple grape appear, Kind relief of human care ! Instinct with circling life, thy skill Uprear’d the olive’s loaded bough : What time, on Lebanon’s proud hill, ^ Slow rose the stately cedar’s brow. Nor less rejoice the lowly plains, Of useful com the fertile bed, Than when the lordly cedar reigns, A beauteous, but a barren shade. While in his arms the painted train, Warbling to the vocal grove, Sweetly tell their pleasing pain, Willing slaves to genial love; While the wild-goats, an active throng, From rock to rock light-bounding fly, Jehovah's praise in solemn song Shall echo through the vaulted sky. Mr. Wesley was now more desirous than ever of improving his time to the best advantage. As he had not yet taken his Degree of Master of Arts, the whole of his time was not at his own disposal; but those portions of it which were, he carefully spent in pursuit of such know¬ ledge as promised to be beneficial to himself, and would enable him to benefit others : he never indulged himself in an idle useless curiosity, which is the common fault of most young men in the conduct of their studies. He expresses his sentiments on this head, in a letter to his mother, of January, 1727. “ I am shortly to take my Master’s Degree. As I shall from that time be less interrupted by business not of my own choosing, I have drawn up for myself a scheme of studies from which I do not intend, for some years at least, to vary.—I am perfectly come over to your opinion, that there are many truths it is not worth while to know. Curiosity indeed might be a sufficient plea for our laying out some time upon them, if we had half a dozen centuries of life to come ;* * When Mr. Wesley was upwards of eighty, he said to me, after he had travelled from Portsmouth to Gob ham, in Surrey, which he reached before 1 o’clock:—“ We should lose no time,—wp have not, like the Patriarchs, 700 or 800 vears to play with.” Vol. I. 12 86 THE LIFE OF but methinks it is great ill-husbandry to spend a considerable part o the small pittance now allowed us, in what makes us neither a quick nor a sure return. “Two days ago I was reading a dispute between those celebrated masters of controversy, Bishop Atterbury and Bishop Hoadly; but must own I was so injudicious as to break off in the middle. I could not conceive, that the dignity of the end was at all proportioned to the difficulty of attaining it. And I thought the labour of twenty or thirty hours, if I was sure of succeeding, which I was not, would be but ill rewarded by that important piece of knowledge, whether Bishop Hoadly had misunderstood Bishop Atterbury or not?” The following paragraph, in the same letter, will show the reader how diligent he had long been in improving the occasions which occur¬ red, of impressing a sense of religion on the minds of his companions, and of his soft and obliging manner of doing it. “ About a year and a half ago,” says he, “ I stole out of company at eight in the evening, with a young gentleman with whom I was intimate. As we took a turn in an aisle of St. Mary’s Church, in expectation ©f a young lady’s funeral, with whom we were both acquainted, I asked him, if he really thought himself my friend ? and if he did, why he would not do me all the good he could ? He began to protest,—in which I cut him short, by desiring him to oblige me in an instance, which he could not deny to be in his own power: to let me have the pleasure of making him a whole Chris¬ tian, to which I knew he was at least half persuaded already. That he could not do me a greater kindness, as both of us would be fully con¬ vinced when we came to follow that young woman.* “He turned exceedingly serious, and kept something of that disposi¬ tion ever since. Yesterday was a fortnight, he died of a consumption. I saw him three days before he died; and, on the Sunday following, did him the last good office I could here, by preaching his funeral sermon; which was his desire when living.” Mr. Wesley proceeded Master of Arts on the 14thf of February, J and acquired considerable reputation in his disputation for his Degree; on which account his mother congratulates him in a letter ’of the four¬ teenth of March.—On the 19th he writes thus to her: “ One advantage, at least, my Degree has given me ; I am now at liberty, and shall be in a great measure for some time, to choose my own employment. And as l believe I know my own deficiencies best, and which of them are most necessary to be supplied ; I hope my time will turn to somewhat better account, than when it was not so much in my own disposal.”— He had already fixed the plan of his studies ; but how to obtain a more practical knowledge of God, and a more entire conformity to his will, in the temper of his mind and in all his actions, was a point not so easily determined. He thought, however, that the company to which he was necessarily exposed at Oxford, was a hinderance to his progress in reli¬ gion, and that a greater seclusion from the world would be advantageous * It was, however, reserved for Peter Boehler to make him “ a whole Christian,” by preaching to him what St. Paul calls the foolishness of God. f Private Diary. j He informed me that he delivered three Lectures on that occasion—one on Natural Philosophy, De Anima Brutorum, —another on Moral Philosophy, De Julio Ccesare, and a third on Religion, De Amove Dei . What a pity these should be lost! At least they are lost to me. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 87 to him in this respect. He expresses the thoughts he then had of this matter, in the same letter of the 19th of March. “ The conversation of one or two persons, whom you may have heard me speak of, (I hope never without gratitude,) first took off my relish for most other pleasures, so far that I despised them in comparison of that. I have since pro¬ ceeded a step farther ; to slight them absolutely. And I am so little at present in love with even company, the most elegant entertainment next to books; that, unless the persons have a religious turn of thought, I am much better pleased without them. I think it is the settled temper of my soul, that I should prefer, at least for some time, such a retire¬ ment, as would seclude me from all the world, to the station I am now in. Not that this is by any means unpleasant to me ; but I imagine it would be more improving, to be in a place where I might confirm or implant in my mind what habits I would, without interruption, before the flexibility of youth be over. “ A school in Yorkshire was proposed to me lately, on which I shall think more, when it appears whether I may have it or not. A good salary is amiexed to it. But what has made me wish for it most, is the frightful description, as they call it, which some gentlemen who know the place, gave me of it yesterday. 1 It lies in a little vale, so pent up between two hills, that it is scarcely accessible on any side; so that you can expect little company from without, and within there is none at all.’ I should therefore be entirely at liberty to converse with company of my own choosing, whom for that reason I would bring with me ; and company equally agreeable, wherever I fixed, could not put me to less expense. The sun that walks his airy way To cheer the world, and bring the day; The moon that shines with borrow’d light, The stars that gild the gloomy night; All of these, and all I see, Should be sung, and sung by me : These praise their Maker as they can, But want, and ask the tongue of man. £{ I am full of business ; but have found a way to write, without taking any time from that. It is but rising an hour sooner in the morning, and going into company an hour later in the evening; both which may be done without any inconvenience.” The school however was disposed of in some other way; at which his mother was well pleased. “ I am not sorry,” says she, “ that you have missed the school; that way of life would not agree with your constitution ; and, I hope, God has better work for you to do.” Mr. Wesley saw, that a desultory method of study was not the way to accurate knowledge; and therefore he had, some time before he took his Master’s Degree, laid down a plan which he now closely pur¬ sued ; and he never suffered himself to deviate from the rule he had prescribed. Thus, his hours of study, on Mondays and Tuesdays, were devoted to the Greek and Roman classics, historians, and poets.— Wednesdays, to Logic and Ethics.—Thursdays, to Hebrew and Arabic. —Fridays, to Metaphysics and Natural Philosophy.—Saturdays, to Ora¬ tory and Poetry, chiefly composing.—Sundays, to Divinity.—In the intermediate hours, between these more fixed studies, he perfected himself in the French language, which he had begun to learn two or THE LIFJE OF 88 three years before; he also read a great variety of modern authors in almost every department of science. His method was this : he first read an author regularly through; then in the second reading, tran¬ scribed into his collections such passages as he thought important, either for the information they contained, or the beauty of expression. This method considerably increased his stock of knowledge, and gave him a familiar acquaintance with the authors he had read. It has been doubted by some persons, whether the Mathematics entered into Mr. Wesley’s plan of studies at the University. But among the authors mentioned in his diary, are found Euclid, Keil, S’Gravesande, Sir Isaac Newton, &c; and he seems to have studied them with great attention.—He sometimes amused himself with experiments in Optics. He has, however, told all the world, that he found, by experience, he could not pursue these studies to any perfection , (though others might,) without injury to his soul: and he told me, that the chief good to be derived from mathematical studies, was their tendency to induce a habit of close thinking. It has been before observed, that his father had two livings. He now became less able to attend to the duties of his station, than for¬ merly ; especially as it was difficult, and sometimes dangerous in the winter, to pass between Epworth and Wroote : And it was not easy to procure an assistant to his mind, in that remote comer of the kingdom. He was therefore desirous, that his son, Mr. John Wesley, should come into the country, and reside chiefly at Wroote, as his curate. Mr. Wesley complied with his father’s request, who thus expresses himself in a letter of June :—“ I do not think, that I have thanked you enough for your kind and dutiful letter of the 14th instant.—When you come hither, your head-quarters will, I believe, for the most part be at Wroote, and mine at Epworth ; though sometimes making a change.” —Accordingly, he left Oxford on the 4th of August; and coming to London, spent some days with his brother Samuel, and then proceeded on his journey to take upon him his appointed charge.—In this part of Lincolnshire, the ague is endemic, and in October he was seized with it; at the same time he was called to Oxford, probably to oblige Dr. Morley, the Rector of Lincoln College, on some election business. This gentleman had rendered such services to Mr. Wesley, in his election to Lincoln, that he used to say, “ I can refuse Dr. Morley nothing.” In the present instance, his gratitude overcame all objec¬ tions against travelling on horseback, through wet and cold, with an ague upon him. He reached Oxford on the 16th, and left it again on the 25th ; travelling in the same manner back to Wroote, though Often very ill on the road. He now continued in the country for some time, still pursuing the same plan of study, as far as the nature of his situation would permit. The following letter, written by one of the Fellows of his own College, who, it seems, had been a good deal absent, and knew little of him, except what he had learned from the report of those who had been acquainted with him, will show us his general character at Oxford. “ Coll. Line., December 28th, 1727. M Sir, —Yesterday I had the satisfaction of receiving your kind and obliging letter, whereby you have given me a singular instance of that THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 89 goodness and civility which is essential to your character; and strongly confirmed to me the many encomiums which are given you in this respect, by all who have the happiness to know you. This makes me infinitely desirous of your acquaintance. And when I consider those shining qualities which I hear daily mentioned in your praise, I cannot but lament the great misfortune we all suffer, in the absence of so agree¬ able a person from the College. But I please myself with the thoughts of seeing you here on Chapter-day, and of the happiness we shall have in your company in the summer. In the meantime, I return you my most sincere thanks for this favour; and assure you, that, if it should ever lie in my power to serve you, no one will be more ready to do it, than, “ Sir, “ Your most obliged and most humble servant, “ LEW. FENTON.” Mr. Wesley continued in the country till July 1728, when he returned by way of London, to Oxford, where he arrived on the 27th of this month, with a view to obtain Priest’s Orders. No reason is assigned, why he was not ordained Priest sooner: it is evident, however, that he had never applied for it, probably on account of his age.—On Sunday, the 22d of September, he was ordained Priest, by Dr. Potter, Bishop of Oxford, who had ordained him Deacon in 1725. October 1, he set out for Lincolnshire, and did not again visit Oxford till the 16th of June, 1729. About the middle of the August following, he returned to his charge at Wroote, where he continued till he received the following letter from Dr. Morley, the Rector of his College, dated the 21st of October: “ At a meeting of the Society, just before I left College, to consider of the proper method to preserve discipline and good government; among several things agreed on, it was, in the opinion of all that were present, judged necessary that the junior Fellows, who should be chosen Moderators, shall in person attend the duties of their office, if they do not prevail with some of the Fellows to officiate for them. We all thought it would be a great hardship qn Mr. Fenton, to call him from a perpetual Curacy or Donative ; yet this we must have done, had not Mr. Hutchins been so kind to him and us, as to free us from the uneasiness of doing a hard thing, by engaging to supply his place in the hall for the present year. Mr. Robinson would as willingly supply yours, but the serving of two Cures about fourteen miles distant from Oxford, and ten at least as bad as the worst of your roads in the Isle, makes it, he says, impossible to discharge the duty constantly. We hope it may be as much for your advantage to reside at College as where you are, if you take pupils, or can get a Curacy in the neighbour¬ hood of Oxon. Your father rriay certainly have another Curate, though not so much to his satisfaction : yet we are persuaded, that this will not move him to hinder your return to College, since the interest of College, and obligation to Statute require it.”—In consequence of this letter, he quitted his father’s Curacy at Wroote, and, on the 22d of November, came to reside at Oxford. ^ 90 THE LIFE OF CHAPTER II. AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF THE REV. CHARLES WESLEY, A. M., AND OF HIS BROTHER JOHN, IN CONTINUATION, UNTIL THEIR MISSION TO GEORGIA. Leaving Mr. John Wesley, now a resident at Oxford, I proceed to give an account of his brother in the flesh, and in the Lord. Mr. Charles Wesley was born December 18th, 1708, Old Style, several weeks before his time, at Epworth in Lincolnshire ; being about five years younger than his brother John, and about sixteen younger than Samuel. He appeared dead, rather than alive, when he was born. He did not cry, nor open his eyes, and was kept wrapt up in soft wool until the time when he should have been born according to the usual course of nature ; and then he opened his eyes and cried. He received the first rudiments of learning at home, under the pious care of his mother, as all the other children did. In 1716 he was sent to Westminster School, and placed under the care of his eldest brother Samuel Wesley, a High Churchman, who educated him in his own principles. He was exceedingly sprightly and active ; very apt to learn, but arch and unlucky, though not ill-natured. When he had been some years at school, Mr. R. Wesley, a gentle¬ man ot large fortune in Ireland, wrote to his father, and asked if he had any son named Charles ; if so, he would make him his heir. Accord¬ ingly a gentleman in London brought money for his education several years. But one year another gentleman called, probably Mr. Wesley himself, talked largely with him, and asked if he was willing to go with him to Ireland. Mr. Charles desired to write to his father, who answered immediately, and referred it to his own choice. He chose to stay in England. Mr. W. then found and adopted another Charles Wesley, who wa| the late Earl of Momington, ancestor of the present Marquis Wellesley and the Duke of Wellington. “ A fair escape,” says Mr. John Wesley, from whose short account of his brother I have taken this anecdote. Mr. John Wesley wrote this short account a few months before his death, intending to publish it. It remained among his MSS. From this time, Mr. Charles Wesley depended chiefly upon his brother Samuel, till 1721, when he was admitted a scholar of St. Peter’s College, Westminster.* He was now a King’s scholar; and as he advanced in age and learning, he acted dramas, and at length became Captain of the School. In 1726 he was elected to Christ Church, Oxford,| at which time his brother was Fellow of Lincoln College. Mr. John Wesley gives the following account of him, after he came to Oxford : “ He pursued his studies diligently, and led a regular harmless life ; but if I spoke to him about religion, he would warmly answer, 4 What, would you have me to be a saint all at once V and would hear * Welch’s List of Scholars of St. Peter’s College, Westminster, as they were elected to Christ Church College, Oxford, and Trinity College, Cambridge, p. 105. f Ibid. 110. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 91 no more.* I was then near three years my father’s Curate. During most of this time, he continued much the same ; but in the year 1729, I observed, his letters grew much more serious, and when I returned to Oxford, in November that year, I found him in great earnestness to save his soul.” Mr. Charles Wesley gives the following account of himself for the first year or two after he went to Oxford, j* “ My first year at the Col¬ lege I lost in diversions; the next, I set myself to study. Diligence led me into serious thinking: I went to the weekly sacrament, and per¬ suaded two or three young students to accompany me, and to observe the method of study prescribed by the statutes of the University. This gained me the harmless name of Methodist. In half a year (after this) my brother left his Curacy at Epworth, and came to our assistance. We then proceeded regularly in our studies, and in doing what good we could to the bodies and souls of men.” In the year 1728, in the twentieth year of his age, he began to apply more closely to study, to be more serious in his general deportment than usual, and to write a diary, in which he intended to register daily the state of his mind and the actions of the day. He knew that his brother Mr. John Wesley, had kept such a diary for several years, and was able to give him instructions how to proceed. He therefore wrote to him in January 1729, as follows : “ I would willingly write a diary of my actions, but what particulars am I to take notice of? Am I to give my thoughts and words, as well as deeds, a place in it? Am I to mark all the good and ill I do ; and what besides ? Must I not take account of my progress in learning, as well as religion ? What cipher can I make use of? If you would direct me to the same, or like method to your own, I would gladly follow it; for I am fully convinced of the usefulness of such an undertaking. I shall be at a stand till I hear from you. “ God has thought fit, it may be, to increase my weariness, to deny me at present your company and assistance. It is through Him strengthening me, I trust to maintain my ground till we meet. And I hope, that, neither before nor after that tijge, I shall relapse into my former state of insensibility. It is through your means, I firmly believe, that God will establish w hat he has begun in me ; and there is no one person I would so willingly have to be the instrument of good to me as you. It is owing, in great measure, to somebody’s prayers, (my mother’s most likely,) that I am come to think as I do; for I cannot tell myself, how or when I awoke out of my lethargy—only that it was not long after you went away.” The enemies of the Christian Revelation were become so bold, at this time, in their attempts to propagate their principles in the University, as to rouse the attention of the Vice-Chancellor ; who, with the consent of the Heads of Houses and Proctors, issued the following programma, or edict, which was fixed up in most of the halls of the University: “ Whereas there is too much reason to believe, that some members of the University have of late been in danger of being corrupted by ill- designing persons, who have not only entertained wicked and blasphe¬ mous notions, contrary to the truth of the Christian religion; but have * He was odd, eccentric, and what is called absent , in a high degree. Mr. John Wesley told me, that he always dreaded his visiting him, notwithstanding their great love to each other,—knowing well the derangement of books and papers that would probably ensue. 4 In his letter to Dr. Chandler- 92 THE LIFE OF endeavoured to instil the same ill principles into others : and the more effectually to propagate their infidelity, have applied their poison to the unguarded inexperience of less-informed minds, where they thought it might operate with better success; carefully concealing then impious tenets from those whose riper judgment, and more wary conduct, might discover their false reasoning, and disappoint the intended progress of their infidelity. And whereas, therefore, it is more especially necessary at this time, to guard the youth of this place against these wicked advo¬ cates for pretended human reason against Divine revelation, and to enable them the better to defend their religion, and to expose the pride and impiety of those who endeavour to undermine it; Mr. Vice-Chan¬ cellor, with the consent of the Heads of Houses and Proctors, has thought fit to recommend it, as a matter of the utmost consequence, to the several tutors of each College and Hall in the University, that they discharge their duty by a double diligence, in informing their respective pupils in their Christian duty, as also in explaining to them the articles of religion which they profess, and are often called upon to subscribe, and in recommending to them the frequent and careful reading of the Scriptures, and such other books as may serve more effectually to pro¬ mote Christianity, sound principles, and orthodox faith. And, farther, Mr. Vice-Chancellor, with the same consent, does hereby forbid the said youth the reading of such books as may tend to the weakening of their faith, the subverting of the authority of the Scripture, and the introducing of Deism, profaneness, and irreligion in their stead.”—The Dean of Christ Church was so much a friend to infidelity, that he would not suffer this programma to be put up in the Hall of his College. But the Lord was about to take the matter into his own hand. At the very time when the friends of infidelity were making so strong an effort to propagate their principles in this celebrated seminary of learning, God was preparing some young men to plant a religious society in the same place, which should spread its branches throughout the world! In the course of the following summer, Mr. Charles Wesley became more and more serious, and his zeal for God began to manifest itself in exertions to do good beyond the common round of religious duties. He endeavoured to awaken an attention to religion in the minds of some of the students, and was soon successful in one or two instances. This appears from the following letter, which he wrote to his brother John in May, 1729. “ Providence has at present put it into my power to do some good. I have a modest, humble, well-disposed youth lives next me ; and have been, thank God, somewhat instrumental in keeping him so. He had got into vile hands, and is now broke loose. He durst not receive the sacrament but at the usual times, for fear of being laughed at. By convincing him of the duty of frequent communicating, I have prevailed on both of us to receive once a week. “ I earnestly long for, and desire the blessing, God is about to send me in you. I am sensible this is my day of grace ; and that, upon my employing the time before our meeting and next parting, will in great measure depend my condition for eternity.” In November, 1729, Mr. John Wesley left his Curacy, and came to reside wholly at Oxford. The beginning of the society then formed was small, and it appeared contemptible to those around; but events 1HE REV. JO&N WESLEY. 93 have shown, that it was big with consequences of the utmost importance to the happiness of millions. So little do men know beforehand of the designs of Providence! About this time Mr. Charles Wesley began to take pupils. On this occasion his father wrote to him as follows, in a letter dated January 1730, wheij Charles had just passed the 21st year of his age : “ I had your last, and you may easily guess whether I were not well pleased with it, both on your account and my own. You have a double advan¬ tage by your pupils, which will soon bring you more, if you will improve it, as I firmly hope you will, by taking the utmost care to form their minds to piety as well as learning. As for yourself, between logic, grammar, and mathematics, be idle if you can. I give my blessing to the Bishop for having tied you a little faster, by obliging you to rub up your Arabic : and a fixed «and constant method will make the whole both pleasing and delightful to you. But, for all that, you must find time every day for walking, which you know you may do with advantage to your pupils; and a little more robust exercise, now and then, will do you no harm. You are now launched fairly, Charles; hold up your head, and swim like a man; and when you cuff the wave beneath you, say to it, much as another hero did, Carolum vehis, et Caroli fortunam. * But always keep your eye fixed above the pole-star: and so God send you a good voyage through the troublesome sea of life ! which is the hearty prayer of your loving father.” Mr. Charles Wesley and his brother John had been always united in affection; they were now united in their pursuit of learning, their views of religion, and their endeavours to do good. A Mr. Morgan, then a student also, was to them as another brother ; and, united together, they were as a threefold cord, which is not easily broken. Charles had much more fire and openness of temper than his brother; but he was not less cautious in this respect. If any doubts arose in his mind; or if any practice, which he thought proper and commendable, seemed likely to give great offence to others, he asked the advice of those who were older and wiser than himself, how he ought to proceed. In a letter which he wrote to his father in June 1731, he says, “ On Whit¬ sunday the whole College received the sacrament, except the servitors , (for we are too well bred to communicate with them , though in the body and blood of Christ,) to whom it was administered the next day; on which I was present at church, but with the Canons left the sacrament to those for whom alone it was prepared. What I would beg to be resolved in is, whether or no my being assured I should give infinite scandal by staying, could sufficiently justify me in turning my back on God’s ordinance 1 It is a question my future conduct is much concerned in, and I shall therefore earnestly wait for your decision.” We see here what a view he had of the sin of turning away from the ordinance of God! Mr. Charles Wesley proceeded Master of Arts in the usual course, and thought only of spending all his days at Oxford as a tutor; for he “ exceedingly dreaded entering into Holy Orders.”f But, in 1735, a * M Thou Carriest Charles , and Charles's fortune.” — Spoken originally of Caesar V His letter to Dr. Chandler. Voi. I, 13 94 THE HITE OJt new scene opened before him and his pious brother, winch had not been contemplated by either of them, but was manifestly marked out by the providence of Him “ who worketh all tilings after the counsel of his own unil” We have seen Mr. John Wesley rising into notice and esteem on account of his literary talents, yet still in the humble situation of curate to his father, which he now quitted at the call of the chief men of his college. In consequence of that order, he entered upon a new situa¬ tion : he obtained pupils, and became a tutor. He presided also in the Hall as Moderator in the disputations, which were held six times a week; and always regarded this last appointment as a very gracious providence : it gave him a complete knowledge of that important branch of learning, by which he was afterwards enabled, during his whole life, to defend the truth against all opponents. “.For several years,” says he himself, “ I was Moderator in the disputations which were held six times a week at Lincoln College in Oxford. I could not avoid acqui¬ ring hereby some degree of expertness in arguing; and especially in discerning and pointing out well-covered and plausible fallacies. I have since found abundant reason to praise God for giving me this honest art. By this, when men have hedged me in, by what they called demonstrations, I have been many times able to dash them in pieces; in spite of all its covers, to touch the very point where the fallacy lay, and it flew open in a moment.”* He was now fully employed between his public offices and his pupils. Of the latter he took the greatest care, accounting himself not only responsible for them to their parents and the community, but to God. He laboured not only to , make them scholars, but Christians also, and to that end wrote a form of prayers for them (which is still extant) for every day in the week. His own address to the Tutors of the University, will clearly evince the spirit in which he acted. “ Ye venerable men,” says he, “ who are more especially called to form the tender minds of youth, to dispel thence the shades of igno¬ rance and error, and train them up to be wise unto salvation: are you tilled with the Holy Ghost 1 With all those fruits of the Spirit, which your important office so indispensibly requires ? Is your heart whole with God ? Full of love and zeal to set up his kingdom on earth? Do you continually remind those under your care, that the one rational end of all our studies, is to know T , love, and serve the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent ? Do you inculcate upon them, day by day, that love alone never faileth 1 (Whereas, ‘ whether there he tongues , they shall fail ,’—or philosophical ‘ knowledge , it shall vanish away:’) and that without love, all learning is but splendid ignorance, pompous folly, vexation of spirit ? Has all you teach an actual tendency to the love of God, and all mankind for his sake ? Have you an eye to this end in whatsoever you prescribe, touching the kind, the manner, and the measure of their studies : desiring and labouring, that wherever the lot of these young soldiers of Christ is cast, they may be so many burning and shining lights, adorning the gospel of Christ in all things ? And permit me to lask, do you put forth all your 'strength in the vast * His masterly refutation of the Pelagian system of Dr. Taylor is an admirable proof ot this.—See his Works, vol. 17, p. 79 . . THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 95 work you have undertaken ? Do you labour herein with all your might ? Exerting every faculty of your soul? Using every talent which God hath lent you, and that to the uttermost of your power ? Let it not be said, that I speak here, as if all under your care were intended to be clergymen. Not so : I only speak as if they were all intended to be Christians.”* Mr. Wesley’s labours as a tutor, were not in vain. The late Rev. Mr. Hervey, author of the “ Meditations,” &c, was one of his pupils, and thus speaks of him with reference to the advantages he had received under his tuition at Oxford, in a letter dated Oxon, September 2, 1736. 44 As for me, I am still a most weak, corrupt creature. But, blessed be the unmerited mercy of God, and thanks be to your never-to-be- forgotten example, 4 that I am what I am.”’ And again, 44 Do you, dear sir, put up your prayers, and oh ! let the mighty God set to his seal, that it may be unto me according to my heart’s desire. Then will I invite you, {my father , shall I call you, or my friend! For indeed you have been both unto me,) to meet me among the spirits of pst men made perfect: since I am not like to see your face in the flesh any more for ever It Then will I bid you welcome, yea, I will tell of your love, before the universal assembly, at the tremendous tribunal.” In the postscript he adds, • 44 I heartily thank you, as for all other favours, so especially for teach¬ ing me Hebrew. I have cultivated, (according to your advice,) this study, and am (blessed be God, the giver of knowledge,) somewhat improved in this language.” In another letter, dated Weston, near Northampton, December 30, 1747, he observes, 44 Assure yourself, dear sir, that I can never forget that tender-hearted and generous Fellow of Lincoln, who condescended to take such compassionate notice of a poor under-graduate: whom almost every body condemned ; and no man cared for his soul.” Mr. Wesley’s own account of his religious views and impressions while at Oxford, is so worthy of observation, that I give it without any alteration. 44 In the year 1725, being in the twenty-third year of my age, I met with Bishop Taylor’s 4 Rules and Exercises of Holy Living and Dying.’ In reading several parts of this book, I was exceedingly affected with that part in particular which relates to purity of intention. Instantly I resolved to dedicate all my life to God: all my thoughts, and words, and actions : being thoroughly convinced, there was no medium : but that every part of my life, (not some only,) must either be a sacrifice to God, or to myself, that is, in effect, to the devil. 44 In the year 1726, I met with Kempis’s 4 Christian Pattern.’ The nature and extent of inward religion, the religion of the heart, now appeared to me in a stronger light than ever it had done before. I saw, that giving even all my life to .God, (supposing it possible to do this and go no farther,) would profit me nothing, unless I gave my heart, yea, all my heart, to him. I saw that 4 simplicity of intention and purity of affection,’ one design in all we speak or do, and one desire, ruling all our tempers, are indeed 4 the wings of the soul,* without which she can never ascend to the mount of God. * His Works, vol. i, p. 86. f Mr. Wesley was at this time in Georgia. 9t> fHE LIFE OF “-A year or two alter, Mr. Law’s ‘Christian Perfection,’ and ‘Serious Call,’ were put into my hands. These convinced me, more than ever, of the absolute impossibility of being half a Christian. And I determined, through his grace, (of the absolute necessity of which I was deeply sensible,) to be all devoted to God, to give him all my soul, my body, and my substance. “ In the year 1729, I began not only to read, but to study the Bible, as the one, the only standard of truth, and the only model of pure reli¬ gion. Hence I saw, in a clearer and clearer light, the indispensible necessity of having the mind which was in Christ, and of walking as Christ also walked ; even of having, not some part only, but all the mind which was in him, and of walking as he walked, not only in many or in most respects, but in all things. And this was the light, wherein at this time I generally considered religion, as a uniform following of Christ, an entire inward and outward conformity to our Master. Nor was I afraid of any thing more, than of bending this rule to the expe¬ rience of myself, or of other men: of allowing myself in any the least disconformity to our grand Exemplar.”* About this time a serious man, whom he had travelled many miles to see, said to him, “ Sir, you wish to serve God and go to heaven. Remember that you cannot serve him alone. You must therefore find companions, or make them ; the Bible knows nothing of solitary reli¬ gion.” He never forgot this. Therefore, on his return to the Univer¬ sity, he first spoke to his brother, Mr. Charles Wesley, and afterwards to Mr. Morgan, Mr. Hervey, Mr. Whitefield, and others. When they first began to meet, they read Divinity on the Sunday evenings, and on other nights the Greek and Latin Classics. The summer following, they began to visit the prisoners in the castle, and the sick poor in the town. Their meetings now began to be more directly religious : they read and considered the Greek Testament on the week evenings, and con¬ versed closely and deeply on the things of God. They now likewise observed the Fasts of the ancient Church every Wednesday and Friday, and communicated once a week. “ We were now,” says Mr. Wesley, “ about fifteen in number, ‘ all of one heart and of one mind .’ ” The spirit of this little association cannot be exemplified more fully, than by giving at large the scheme of self-examination which was agreed upon and used by them. COVE OF GOD AND SIMPLICITY : MEANS OF WHICH ARE PRAYER AND MEDITATION. I. Have I been simple and recollected in every thing I said or did ? Have I (1.) been simple in every thing, i. e. looked upon God, as my Good, my Pattern, my One Desire, my Disposer, Parent of Good; acted wholly for him ; bounded my views with the present action or hour'? (2.) Recollected? i. e. Has this simple view been distinct and uninterrupted ? Have I done any thing without a previous perception of its being the will of God ? Or without a perception of its being an exer¬ cise or a means of the virtue of the day l Have I said any thing without it? * His Works, vol. xxiv, p. 4, &o. 1HE 11EV. JOHN WESLEY. 97 2n Have I prayed with fervour? At going in and out of church? In the church? Morning and evening in private? Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, with my friends? At rising ? Before lying down? On Satur¬ day noon ? All the time I was engaged in exterior work ? In private ? Before I went into the place of public or private prayer, for help therein? Have I, wherever I was, gone to church, morning and evening, unless for necessary mercy ? And spent from one hour to three in private ? Have I in private prayer frequently stopt short, and observed what fer¬ vour ? Have I repeated it over and over, till I adverted to every word ? Have I at the beginning of every prayer or paragraph owned, I cannot pray ? Have I paused before I concluded in his name, and adverted to my Saviour now interceding for me at the right hand of God, and offer¬ ing up these prayers ? 3. Have I daily used ejaculations ? i. e. Have I every hour prayed for humility, faith, hope, love, and the particular virtue of the day? Considered, with whom I was the last hour, what I did, and how? With regard to recollection, love of man, humility, self-denial, resigna¬ tion, and thankfulness ?*Considered the next hour in the same respects, offered all I do to my Redeemer, begged his assistance in every parti¬ cular, and commended my soul to his keeping? Have I done this deliberately, (not in haste,) seriously, (not doing any thing else the while,) and fervently as 1 could? 4. Have I duly prayed for the virtue of the day ? i. e. Have I prayed for it at going out and coming in ? Deliberately, seriously, fervently ? 5. Have I used a collect at nine, twelve, and three ? And grace before and after eating? (aloud at my own room,) deliberately, seriously, fervently ? 6. Have I duly meditated ? Every day, unless for necessary mercy ? (1.) From six, &c, to prayers? (2.) From four to five, (What was particular in the providence of this day ?) How ought the virtue of the day to have been exerted upon it ? How did it fall short ? (Here faults.) (3.) On Sunday from six to seven, with Kempis ? From three to four, on redemption, or God’s attributes? Wednesday and Friday from twelve to one, on the Passion ? After ending a book, on what I had marked in it? LOVE OF MAN. 1st. Have I been zealous to do, and active in doing, good? i. e. (1.) Have I embraced every probable opportunity of doing good, and preventing, removing or lessening evil ? (2.) Have I pursued it with my might? (3.) Have I thought any thing too dear to part with, to serve my neighbour? (4.) Have I spent an hour at least, every day, in speaking to some one or other ? (5.) Have I given any one up, till he expressly renounced me ? (6.) Have I, before I spoke to any, learned, as far as I could, his temper, way of thinking, past life, and peculiar hinderances, internal and external ? Fixed the point to be aimed at ? Then the means to it ? (7.) Have I, in speaking, proposed the motives, then the difficulties, then balanced them, then exhorted him to consider both calmly and deeply, and to pray earnestly for help ? THE LIFE OF 98 (8.) Have I, in speaking to a stranger, explained what religion is not, (not negative, not external,) and what it is, (a recovery of the image of God,) searched at what step in it he stops, and what makes him stop there ? Exhorted and directed him ? (9.) Have I persuaded all I could, to attend public prayers, sermons, and sacraments ? And, in general, to obey the laws of the Church Uni¬ versal, the Church of England, the State, the University, and their respective colleges? (10.) Have I, when taxed with any act of obedience, avowed it, and turned the attack with sweetness and firmness ? (11.) Have I disputed upon any practical point, unless it was to be practised just then ? (12.) Have I, in disputing, (1.) desired my opponent, to define the terms of the question: to limit it: what he grants, what denies: (2.) Delayed speaking my opinion; let him explain and prove his: then insinuated and pressed objections ? (13 ) Have I, after every visit, asked him who went with me, Did I say any thing wrong ? (14.) Have I, when any one asked advice, directed and exhorted him with all my power ? 2dly. Have I rejoiced with and for my neighbour in virtue or pleasure ? Grieved with him in pain, for him in sin ? 3dly. Have I received his infirmities with pity, not anger? 4thly. Have I thought or spoke unkindly of or to him? Have I revealed any evil of any one, unless it was necessary to some particular good I had in view? Have I then done it with all the tenderness of phrase and manner, consistent with that end ? Have I any way appeared to approve them that did otherwise ? 5thly. Has good will beefi, and appeared to be, the spring of all my actions towards others ? 6thly. Have I duly used intercession? (1.) Before, (2.) after speak¬ ing to any? (3.) For my friends on Sunday? (4.) For my pupils on Monday? (5.) For those who have particularly desired it, on Wednes¬ day and Friday? (6.) For the family in which I am, every day?” We may here see the great sincerity and earnestness of Mr. Wesley and his friends. But the darkness of their minds, as to Gospel truths, is very evident to those who are favoured with clear and evangelical views. He was now a mere worker for life, (though evidently expecting the assistance of the Holy Spirit,) and consequently his mind was kept in a state of perplexity, not rightly understanding the doctrine of justification; which he either confounded with sanctification, or thought a man must be sanctified before he can be justified. This notion hindered him from perceiving, that to justify, in the language of St. Paul, is to pardon a repenting and believing sinner, as an act of grace ; not for the sake of any previous holiness in him, but through Jesus Christ alone. This plan which the Gospel proposes as the only way of reconciling sinners to God—of making them holy in heart and life, and of giving them a sure hope, full of immortality,—he had yet to learn. And it was a painful lesson, as unveiling his true condition in the sight of God. It appears from the account I have given of Mr. Charles Wesley, that for more than two years before this time he had studied very hard, and, THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. yy through his brother’s advice and influence, was become, by the blessing of God, deeply serious; that during the last summer he had received the sacrament weekly, and had prevailed on two or three young men to do the same ; and that these gentlemen had occasionally met together, for the purpose of assisting and encouraging each other in their duty, and of regulating their employments by certain rules. Mr. John Wes¬ ley was now with them, 44 and the exact regularity of their lives as well as studies,” says he, 44 occasioned a young gentleman of Christ Church to say, 4 Here is a new set of JVlethodists sprung up alluding to some ancient physicians who were so called. The name was new and quaint; so it took immediately, and the Methodists were known all over the University.” His own account is as follows — 44 In November 1729, four young gentlemen of Oxford, Mr John Wesley, Fellow of Lincoln College ; Mr. Charles Wesley, Student of Christ Church; Mr. Morgan, Commoner of Christ Church , and Mr. Kirkham, of Merton College ; began to spend some evenings in a week together, in reading chiefly the Greek Testament. The next year, two or three of Mr. John Wesley’s pupils desired the liberty of meeting with them : and afterwards one of Mr. Charles Wesley’s pupils. It was in 1732, that Mr. Ingham of Queen’s College, and Mr. Broughton of Exeter, were added to their number. To these, in April, was joined Mr. Clayton of Brazen-Nose, with two or three of his pupils. About. the same time, Mr. James Hervey was permitted to meet with them, and afterwards Mr. Whitefield.”* These young gentlemen continued their meetings for some time, without any other views than their own benefit. But, in the summer of 1730, Mr. Morgan called at the jail, to see a man who was condemned for killing his wife ; and told them, that, from the conversation he had with one of the debtors, he verily believed it would do much good if any one would be at the pains of now and then speaking with them. Having mentioned this several times, Mr. Wesley and his brother Charles went with him on the 24th of August to the Castle, and were so well satisfied with their visit, that they determined to go thither once or twice a week. They had not done this long, before Mr. Morgan, who seems to have led the way in acts of charity and benevolence to others, desired Mr. Wesley to go with him to see a poor woman in the town who was sick. When they began to reflect on the benefit which this might confer on the poor, they thought it would be well worth while to spend two or three hours in the week in this species of charity, especially if the Minister of the parish, in which such person was, did not object to it. But as this practice was quite new, and had an appear¬ ance of irregularity, on which account it might give offence, Mr. Wesley did not choose to proceed any farther without advice. He wrote to his father, who was remarkably attached to regularity and church order, stating what they had hitherto done, and what their design was ; begging to have his opinion, whether they had already gone too far? Whether they should stand still where they were, or go forward? His father’s answer is dated September 21, in which he says, 44 As to your own designs and employments, what can I say less of them than Valde probo and that I have the highest reason to bless God that he has given me two sons together at Oxford, to whom ho has * Wesley’s Works, vol. xv, p. 375. f I highly approve. 100 1HE LIFE Oi given grace and courage to turn the war against the world and the devil, which is the best way to conquer them. They have but one enemy more to combat with,—the flesh ; which if they take care to subdue by fasting and prayer, there will be no more for them to do, but to proceed steadily in the same course, and expect the crown which fadeth not away. You have reason to bless God, as I do, that you have so fast a friend as Mr. Morgan, who, I see, in the most difficult service, is ready to break the ice for you. “ I am afraid lest the main objection you make against your going on in the business of the prisoners, may secretly proceed from flesh and blood. For ‘ who can harm you if you are followers of that which is so good V and which will be one of the marks by which the Shepherd of Israel will know his sheep at the last day. Though, if it were pos¬ sible for you to suffer a little in the cause, you would have a confessor’s reward. You own that none but such as are out of their senses would be prejudiced against you for acting in this manner.—Go on then, in God’s name, in the path to which your Saviour has directed you, and that track wherein your father has gone before you. For when I was an under-graduate, I visited those in the Castle there, and reflect on it with great satisfaction to this day. Walk as prudently as you can, though not fearfully; and my heart and prayers are with you. u Your first regular step is to consult with him, if any such there be, who has a jurisdiction over the prisoners ; and the next is, to obtain the direction and approbation of your Bishop. This is Monday morning, at which time I shall never forget you.—Accordingly, to Him who is every where, I now heartily commit you.” This advice confirmed them in their benevolent purposes, and ani¬ mated them with zeal in the execution. They carefully attended, how¬ ever, to their father’s prudential directions ; and Mr. Wesley immediately consulted Mr. Gerard, the Bishop of Oxford’s Chaplain, who likewise attended the prisoners, when any were condemned to die. Mr. Gerard commended the design, and said he would answer for the Bishop’s approbation, to whom he would take the first opportunity of mentioning it. The Bishop being consulted, not only gave his permission, but was highly pleased with the undertaking. The opposition however increased. The men of wit in Christ Church entered the lists against them, and, between mirth and anger, made a great number of reflections upon the Sacramentarians , as they were pleased to call them. Their allies of Merton thought both this title and that of Methodists , too decent, as implying something com¬ mendable ; they therefore changed it, and honoured them with the title of the Holy Club. But most of these being persons of well-known characters, they made no proselytes from the Sacrament, till a gentle¬ man, eminent for learning and well esteemed for piety, joining them, told his nephew, that if he dared to go to the weekly communion any longer, he would turn him out of doors. This argument had no suc¬ cess ; the young gentleman communicated next week. The uncle now became more violent, and shook his nephew by the throat, to convince him more effectually, that receiving the sacrament every week was founded in error : but this argument appearing to the young gentleman to have no weight in it, he continued his usual practice. The uncle now changed the mode of attack, and. like a true agent of Satan, by a THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 101 soft obliging manner melted down the young gentleman’s resolution of being so strictly religious; and from this time he began to absent him¬ self, five Sundays out of six, from the sacrament. This success gave the opposition new strength; and one of the Seniors of the College consulting with the Doctor, they prevailed with two other young gentle¬ men to promise that they would only communicate three times a year. The opposition now becoming more serious, by some persons of influence taking so decided a part against them, the two Mr. Wesleys wrote to their father again, stating their situation, and asking farther advice. His answ r er, which is dated December 1, now lies before me. 44 This day I received both yours ; and this evening* in the course of our reading, I thought I found an answer that would be more proper than any I myself could dictate ; though, since it will not be easily translated, I send it in the original. noXX?) juooi Kau^utfsp u/xwv. ns<7rX7)pw|xai ty) tfapaxX^tfsi. Ttfsptfspjtfffsuojuiou tyj p£apa.* What would you be ? Would you be angels ? I question whether a mortal can arrive to a greater degree of perfection than steadily to do good ; and, for that very reason, patiently and meekly to suffer evil. For my part, on the present view of your actions and designs, my daily prayers are, that God would keep you humble : and then I am sure that if you con¬ tinue to 4 suffer for righteousness’ sake,’ though it be but in a lower degree, the Spirit of God and of glory shall in some good measure rest upon you. And you cannot but feel such a satisfaction in your own minds, as you would not part with for all the world. Be never weary of well doing: never look back, for you know the prize and the crown are before you: though I can scarce think so meanly of you, as that you should be discouraged with the 4 crackling of thorns under a potJ Be not high minded, but fear. Preserve an equal temper of mind under whatever treatment you meet with, from a not very just or well natured world. Bear no more sail than is necessary, but steer steady. The less you value yourselves for these unfashionable duties, (as there is no such thing as works of supererogation,) the more all good and wise men will value you, if they see your works are all of a piece ; or, which is infinitely more, He, by whom actions and intentions are weighed, will both accept, esteem, and reward you. 44 1 hear my son John has the honour of being styled the 4 Father of the Holy Clubif it be so, I am sure I must be the Grandfather of it; and I need not say, that I had rather any of my sons should be so digni¬ fied and distinguished, than to have the title of His Holiness.” In the same letter he advises them to use great mildness towards their persecutors, but at the same time to avoid a mean or sneaking behaviour, and rather to show an open manly firmness, which is highly becoming in a mind conscious of acting well. In answer to this, Mr. John Wesley wrote to his father, December 11. He says, 44 We all return you our sincere thanks for your timely and necessary advice ; and should be exceedingly glad if it were as easy to follow it, as it is impossible not to approve it. That, doubtless, is the very point we have to gain, before any other can be managed success¬ fully, to have an habitual lively sense of our being only instruments in * 2 Cor. vii, 4. Great is my glorying of you. I am filled with comfort. I am exceed- ingjoyful. Vol. I. 14 102 THE LIFE OF His hand, who can do ail things either with or without any instrument.* But how to fix this sense in us, is the great question.—We hope you and all our friends will continue to intercede for us, to Him with whom all things are possible.—To-morrow night I expect to be in company with the gentleman who did us the honour to take the first notice of our little society. I have terrible reasons to think he is as slenderly provided with humanity, as with sense and learning. However, I must not let slip this opportunity, because he is at present in some distress, occa¬ sioned by his being obliged to dispute in the Schools on Monday, though he is not furnished with such arguments as he wants. I intend, if he has not procured them before, to help him to some arguments, that I may at least remove that prejudice from him,—that ‘we are friends to none but those who are as queer as ourselves.’ ” Under the encouragement of his father’s letter, they continued to meet together as usual, and to confirm one another in their pious reso¬ lutions. They still communicated once a week, and visited the prison¬ ers, and some poor families in the town when they were sick; and, that they might have wherewith to relieve their distress, they abridged them¬ selves of all the superfluities, and of many of the conveniencies, of life. They took every opportunity of conversing with their acquaintance in the most useful manner to awaken them to a sense of religion; but, the outcry daily increasing, they proposed, both to their friends and oppo¬ nents the following questions : I. Whether it does not concern all men of all conditions, to imitate Him, as much as they can, “ who went about doing good ?” Whether all Christians are not concerned in that command, “ While we have time, let us do good to all men'?” Whether we shall not be more happy hereafter, the more good we do now ? Whether we can be happy at all hereafter, unless we have, according to our power, fed the hungry, clothed the naked, visited those that are sick and in prison, and made all these actions subservient to a higher purpose, even the saving of souls from death ? * Whether it be not our bounden duty always to remember, that He did more for us than we can do for Him, who assures us, “ Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren , ye have done it unto me ?” II. Whether upon these considerations, we may not try to do good to our acquaintance 1 Particularly, whether we may not try to convince them of the necessity of being Christians? Whether of the consequent necessity of being scholars ? Whether of the necessity of method and industry in order to either learning or virtue ? Whether we may not try to persuade them to confirm and increase their industry, by communicating as often as they can ? Whether we may not mention to them the Authors whom we conceive to have wrote best on those subjects ? Whether we may not assist them as'we are able, from time to time, to form resolutions upon what they read in those Authors, and to execute them with steadiness and perseverance ? * He maintained this “habitual sense” to the last moment of Ins life. THE REV. JOHN WESLEV. 103 III. Whether, upon the considerations above mentioned, we may not try to do good to those that are hungry, naked, or sick 1 In particular, whether, if we know any necessitous family, we may not give them a little food, clothes, or physic, as they want 1 Whether we may not give them, if they can read, a Bible, Common- prayer Book, or Whole Duty of Man ? Whether we may not, now and then, inquire how they have used them ^explain what they do not understand, and enforce what they do ? Whether we may not enforce upon them, more especially, the neces¬ sity of private prayer, and of frequenting the Church and Sacrament ? Whether we may not contribute what little we are able, towards hav¬ ing their children clothed and taught to read 1 Whether we may not take care that they be taught their Catechism, and short prayers for morning and evening 1 IY. Lastly. Whether, upon the considerations above mentioned, we may not try to do good to those that are in prison 1 In 'particular, whether we may not release such well-disposed persons as remain in prison for small sums ? Whether we may not lend smaller sums to those that are of any trade, that they may procure themselves tools and materials to work with ? Whether we may not give to them, who appear to want it most, a little money, or clothes, or physic ? Whether we may not supply as many as are serious enough to read, with a Bible and Whole Duty of Man 1 Whether we may not, as we have opportunity, explain and enforce these upon them, especially with respect to public and private prayer, and the blessed Sacrament ? It was impossible for any person, who had any religion or humanity left, to answer these questions in the negative, however averse he might be to practise the duties proposed in them. No one attempted it; but several, when they understood their plan and designs, increased their little stock of money for the prisoners and the poor, by subscribing something quarterly to it; so that the more persons they consulted, the more they were themselves confirmed in the belief that they were acting right, and more determined to pursue their plan, notwithstanding the ridicule which increased fast upon them during the winter. It appears from the questions here proposed, which relate to the students, that Mr. Wesley was not inattentive to their progress in learning, %hile he endeavoured to make them religious. His regular method of study, his diligence, and great care to make his pupils thoroughly understand every thing they read, were admirably adapted to make them scholars also. This year, 1731, the two brothers began the practice of conversing together in Latin, whenever they were alone, chiefly with a view of acquiring a facility in expressing themselves in this language, on all occasions, with perspicuity, energy, and elegance. This practice they continued for nearly sixty years; and with such success, that, if their style did not equal, it certainly, on some subjects, approached nearer to, the best models of conversation in the Augustan age, than many of the learned have thought it possible to attain. i04 THE LIFE OF In the beginning of the year 1731, a meeting was held by several of the Seniors of the College, to consult on the speediest way to stop the progress of enthusiasm in it. Mr. Wesley and his friends did not learn what was the result of this very pious consultation; but it was soon publicly reported, that Dr.-and the Censors were going to blow up the Godly Club. This was now their common title; though they were sometimes dignified with that of the Enthusiasts, or the Reforming Club . As new difficulties arose, Mr. Wesley lost no opportunity of consulting his friends. He now wrote to his brother Samuel, at Westminster; whose answer is dated April—“ I designed,” says he, “to have written by Mr. Bateman, to whom I read part of your last letter, concerning the execrable consultation, in order to stop the progress of religion, by giving it a false name. He lifted up his eyes and hands, and protested he could not have believed such a thing. He gave Mr. Morgan a very good character; and said, he should always think himself obliged to him, for the pains he took in reclaiming a young pupil of his, who was just got into ill company, and upon the brink of destruction. I do not like your being called a club ; that name is really calculated to do mis¬ chief. But the other charge of enthusiasm can weigh with none, but such as drink away their senses, or never had any: for surely activity in social duties, and a strict attendance on the ordained means of grace, are the strongest guards imaginable against it. I called on Dr. Terry, to desire him to subscribe to Job, but did not meet with him at home. In two or three days, O rem ridiculam et jocosam ! he did me the favour to call upon me. I said, 4 I hope my two brothers have still good characters at Oxford.’ He answered, he believed they were studious and sober. When he was got down stairs, he turned about, and said, 4 1 think I have heard your brothers are exemplary, and take great pains to instil good principles into young people.’ T told him, and you may guess I told him the truth, 4 1 was very glad to hear such a character of them, especially from him .’ ”—From the last words, it is pretty plain, that Dr. Terry was an avowed opposer of Mr. Wesley and his friends, though he was constrained to bear testimony to the goodness of their characters : but whether he was the grave gentleman, who so piously took his nephew by the throat, to convert him to his own way of thinking and acting, and who consulted with the censors how to stop the progress of religion among them, is not certain. i In the midst of such opposition, Mr. Wesley thought it prudent to take every method in his power to prevent the good that was in them from being evil spoken of; and with this view, and to obtain farther advice, he wrote in May to the Rev. Mr. Hoole,* an aged slergyman in his father’s neighbourhood, of known wisdom and integrity. Part of his answer runs thus :f 44 As to my own sense of the matter, I confess I cannot but heartily approve of that serious and religious turn of mind that prompts you and your associates to those pious and charitable offices; and can have no notion of that man’s religion, or concern for the honour of the University, that opposes you, as far as your design respects the Colleges. I should be loath to send a son of mine to any seminary, where his conversation with virtuous young men, whose professed design of meeting together at proper times was to assist each other in forming * Private Diary. | Wesley’s Works, vol. xxvi, p. 99. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 105 good resolutions, anc^ encouraging one another to execute them with constancy and steadiness, was inconsistent with any received maxims or rules of life among the members.” On the 18th of April, Mr. Wesley, in company with his brother, set out on foot for Epworth ; for they now saved every penny they could, to give it to the poor. They returned to Oxford on the 12th of May ; and, on the 11th of June he wrote to his father, giving him a very dis¬ couraging account of their little society. With respect to their walk, he observes, that it was not so pleasant to Oxford as from it, though in one respect more useful .* “ For it let us see,” says he, u that four or five and twenty miles is an easy and safe day’s journey in hot weather as well as cold. We have made another discovery too, which may be of some service ; that it is easy to read as we walk ten or twelve miles; and that it neither makes us faint, nor gives us any other symptom of weariness, more than the mere walking without reading at all. u Since our return, our little company that used to meet us on a Sunday evening, is shrunk into almost none at all. Mr, Morgan is sick at Holt; Mr. Boyce is at his father’s house at Barton; Mr. Kirkham must very shortly leave Oxford, to be his uncle’s curate ; and a young gentleman of Christ Church, who used to make a fourth, either afraid or ashamed, or both, is returned to the ways of the world, and studiously shuns our company. However, the poor at the Castle have still the Gospel preached to them, and some of their temporal wants sup¬ plied, our little fund rather increasing than diminishing. Nor have we yet been forced to discharge any of the children which Mr. Morgan left to our care : though I wish they too do not find the want of him; I am sure some of their parents will. “ Some, however, give us a better prospect; John Whitelamb in particular.* I believe, with this, you will receive some account from himself how his time is employed. He reads one English, one Latin, and one Greek book alternately; and never meddles with a new one in any of the languages till he has ended the old one. If he goes on as he has begun, I dare take upon me to say, that, by the time he has been here four or five years, there will not be such a one, of his standing, in Lincoln College, perhaps not in the University of Oxford.” But notwithstanding their little company was thus scattered, they still pursued their design of doing as much good as possible, with the same diligence and zeal as before. Some of their friends, however, began to think that they carried matters too far, and laid unnecessary burdens on themselves. This subject Mr. Wesley mentions in. a letter to his mother, of the same date with that to his father mentioned above, giving her at the same time some account of the effects of their journey. “ The motion and sun together,” says he, “ in our last hundred and fifty miles’ walk, so thoroughly carried off all our superfluous humours, that we continue perfectly in health, though it is here a very sickly season. And Mr. Kirkham assures us, on the word of a priest and a physician, that if we will but take the same medicine once or twice a year, we shall never need any other to keep us from the gout. When we were with him, we touched two or three times upon a nice subject, but did not come to any full conclusion. The point debated was, what is the meaning of being righteous over much , or by the more * He afterwards married one of Mr. Wesley’s sisters. 106 THE LIFE OF common phrase of, being too strict in religion ? and what danger there was of any of us falling into that extreme ? “ All the ways of being too righteous or too strict which we could think of, were these : either the carrying some one particular virtue to so great a height, as to make it clash with some others . or, the laying too much stress on the instituted means of grace, to the neglect of the weightier matters of the law ; or, the multiplying prudential means upon ourselves so far, and binding ourselves to the observance of them so strictly, as to obstruct the end we aimed at by them, either by hindering our advance in heavenly affections in general, or by retarding our pro¬ gress in some particular virtue. Our opponents seemed to think my brother and I [were] in some danger of being too strict in this last sense ; of laying burdens on ourselves too heavy to be borne, and consequently too heavy to be of any use to us. “ It is easy to observe, that almost every one thinks that rule totally needless, which he does not need himself; and as to the Christian spirit itself, almost every one calls that degree of it which he does not himself aim at, enthusiasm. If therefore we plead for either, (not as if we thought the former absolutely needful, neither as if we had attained the latter,) it is no great wonder that they who are not for us in practice should be against us. If you who are a less prejudiced judge, have perceived us faulty in this matter, too superstitious or enthusiastic, or Whatever it is to be called ; we earnestly desire to be speedily informed of our eiTor, that we may no longer spend our strength on that which profiteth not. Or whatever there may be on the other hand, in which you have observed us to be too remiss, that likewise we desire to know as soon as possible. This is a subject which we would understand with as much accuracy as possible ; it being hard to say which is of the worse consequence,—the being too strict, the really carrying things too far, the wearying ourselves and spending our strength in burdens that are unnecessary,—or the being frightened by those terrible words, from what, if not directly necessary, would at least be useful.” This letter was followed by another, written in November to his brother Samuel, on the same subject, and discovers’his sentiments more at large. It seems Mr. Samuel Wesley had suggested to him, that in his general seriousness, and in one or two other points of behaviour, he carried matters too far. In answer to these remarks of his brother, he says, “ Considering the other changes that I remember in myself, I shall not at all wonder if the time comes, when we differ as little in our conclusions as we do now in our premises. In most, we seem to agree already; especially as to rising early, not keeping much company, and sitting by a fire, which I always do, if any one in the room does, whe¬ ther at home or abroad. But these are the very things about which others will never agree with me. Had I given up these, or but one of them, rising early, which implies going to bed early, (though I never am sleepy now,) and keeping so little company, not one man in ten of those who are offended at me, as it is, would ever open their mouth against any of the other particulars. For the sake of these, those are mentioned; the root of the matter lies here. Would I but employ a third of my money, and about half my time, as other folks do, smaller matters would be easily overlooked. But I think ‘ Nil tanti estS* As to my hair, I * Nothing is of so much importance. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 107 am much more sure, that what this enables me to do, is according to the Scripture, than I am that the length of it is contrary to it.* “ I have often thought of a saying of Dr. Hayward’s when he exa¬ mined me for Priest’s Orders ; ‘ Do you know what you are about? You are bidding defiance to all mankind. He that would live a Christian Priest, ought to know, that, whether his hand be against every man or no, he must expect every man’s hand should be against him.’ It is not strange that every man’s hand, who is not a Christian, should be against him that endeavours to be so. But is it not hard, that even those who are with us should be against us; that a man’s enemies, in some degree, should be those of the same household of faith? Yet so it is. From the time that a man sets himself to this business, very many, even of those who travel the same road, many of those who are before as well as behind him, will lay stumblingblocks in his way. One blames him for not going fast enough, another for having made no greater progress.; another for going too far, which perhaps, strange as it is, is the more common charge of the two. For this comes from all people of all sorts ; not only infidels, not only half Christians, but some of the best of men are very apt to make this reflection, ‘ He lays unneces¬ sary burdens upon himself; he is too precise ; he does what God has no¬ where required to be done.’ True, he has not required it of those who are perfect; and even as to those who are not, all men are not required to use all means ; but every man is required to use those which he finds most useful to himself. And who can tell better than himself, whether he finds them so or no ? Who knoweth the things of a man better than the spirit of a man that is in him ? “ This being a point of no common concern, I desire to explain myself upon it once for all, and to tell you, freely and clearly, those general positions on which I ground all those practices, for which, as you would have seen had you read that paper through, I am generally accused of singularity. (1.) As to the end of my being; I lay it down for a rule, that I cannot be too happy, or therefore too holy; and thence infer that the more steadily I keep my eye upon the prize of our high calling, and the more of my thoughts and words and actions are directly pointed at the attainment of it, the better. (2.) As to the instituted means of attaining it, I likewise lay it down for a rule, that I am to use them every time I may. (3.) As to prudential means, I believe this rule holds of things indifferent in themselves : whatever I know to do me hurt, .that to me is not indifferent, but resolutely to be abstained from • whatever I know to do me good, that to me is not indifferent, but resolutely to be embraced. “ But it will be said, I am whimsical. True, and what then? If by whimsical be meant simply singular , I own it; if singular without any reason , I deny it with both my hands, and am ready to give a reason, to any that asks me, of every custom wherein I differ from the world. I grant, in many single actions I differ unreasonably from others, but not * Mr. Wesley wore his hair remarkably long and flowing on his shoulders. As he was often indisposed, his mother thought it injured his health, and was very desirous that he should have it taken off; “ I verily believe,” says she in a letter, “ you will never have any good state of health, while you keep your hair.” He objected against parting with his hair, because it would occasion some increase of his expenses, which he could not afford, with¬ out giving less to the poor. His brother Samuel took a middle way, and advised him to have his hair cut shorter; and this advice he followed. 108 THE LIFE OF wilfully; no, I shall extremely thank any one who will teach me how to help it. “ As to my being formal; if by that be meant that I am not easy and unaffected enough in my carriage, it is very true ; but how shall I help it?—If by formal be meant that I am serious, this too is very true ; but why should I help it ? Mirth, I grant, is very fit for you; but does it follow that it is fit for me ? Are the same tempers, any more than the same words and actions, fit for all circumstances ? If you are to rejoice evermore, because you have put your enemies to flight, am I to do the same while they continually assault me ? You are very glad, because you are ‘ passed from death to life well, but let him be afraid who knows not whether he is to live or die. Whether this be my condition or no, who can tell better than myself? Him who can, whoever he be, I allow to be a proper judge, whether I do well to be generally as serious as I can.” December 11, Mr. Samuel Wesley answered this letter, and felt himself a little hurt at some expressions in it. There was indeed a delicate irony in it, which he must have felt, and the force of which he endeavoured to ward off. Some time afterwards the subject of serious¬ ness was again renewed, and several letters passed between them. At first they seemed to differ in opinion; but when each had explained himself, they were more agreed. Mr. Samuel Wesley closes the debate in the following words : “To the best of my memory your character was but little in my thoughts, and my own not at all, in my late letters. I never designed to justify myself; perhaps my laughter is particularly blameable, as my temper is serious, severe, and melancholy.—Thus ends our notable dispute, or rather we have had none at all. For you are only against excessive laughter, which I was never for; and only for seriousness, which I was never against. There is a time to weep, and a time to laugh. And now methinks each of us may say to the other as Dick does to Matt— ‘ That people lived and died I knew, An hour ago, as well as you.’ ’’ About this time their father came up to London, and from thence took an excursion to Oxford, to see what his sons were doing, and in what spirit and temper of mind they were. On his return to London he wrote a few lines to Mrs. Wesley, January 5th, in which he says : “ I had yours on New-year’s day, on which I returned in one day from Oxford, not very well; but well paid both for my expense and labour, by the shining piety of our two sons, of whom I shall write soon more at large.” This gives the fullest evidence, that the father did not then think his sons were carrying matters too far. When Mr.- Wesley first set out in this religious course of life, he was' fully convinced that he did not possess that state of mind which the Gospel describes as the privilege of true believers in Christ; but he expected that the practice of every duty to the utmost of his power would lead him into this state of mind, and give him peace and joy in God. This effect did not follow ; he was often dull, languid, and unaffected in the use of the most solemn ordinances. This both dis¬ tressed and perplexed him, so that he seemed at a loss which way to proceed, to obtain the happiness and security he wanted. He was now tc bringing forth fruit meet for repentance ,” and so far he was right. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 109 But he thought he had the faith of the Gospel; in this he was deceived. We shall see him convinced of unbelief, and bitterly lamenting the delu¬ sion. He looked for righteousness , peace , and joy, without being justi¬ fied. In this state of perplexity, he wrote to his mother on the 28th of February; and after mentioning Mr. Morgan’s situation, he observes : 44 One consideration is enough to make me assent to his and your judg¬ ment concerning the holy sacrament; which is, that we cannot allow Christ’s human nature to be present in it, without allowing either con- or TRANs-substantiation. But that his Divinity is so united to us then, as he never is but to worthy receivers, I firmly believe, though the man¬ ner of that union is utterly a mystery to me. 44 That none but worthy receivers should find this effect, is not strange to me,' when I observe, how small effect many means o’f improvement have uporl an unprepared mind. Mr. Morgan and my brother were affected as they ought, by the observations you made on that glorious subject; but though my understanding approved what was excellent, yet my heart did not feel it. Why was this, but because it was pre- engaged by those affections with which wisdom will not dwell ? because the animal mind cannot relish those truths which are spiritually dis¬ cerned. Yet I have those writings which the Good Spirit gave to that end !* I have many of those which h6 hath since assisted his servants to give us : I have retirement to apply these to my own soul daily; I have means both of public and private prayer; and, above all, of par¬ taking in that sacrament once a week. What shall I do, to make all these blessings effectual, to gain from them that mind which wtfs also in Christ Jesus ? 44 To all who give signs of their not being strangers to it, I propose this question—and why not to you rather than any 1 Shall I quite break off my pursuit of all learning, but what immediately tends to practice ? I once desired to make a fair show in languages and philosophy: but it is past; there is a more excellent way, and if I cannot attain to any progress in the one, without throwing up all thoughts of the other, why, fare it well! Yet a little while and we shall all be equal in knowledge, if we are in virtue. 44 You say, 4 you have renounced the world.’ And what have I been doing all this time ? What have I done, ever since I was born ? Why, I have been plunging myself into it more and more. It is enough : 4 Awake thou that steepest .’ Is there not 4 one Lord , one Spirit , one hope of our calling V One way of attaining that hope 1 Then I am to renounce the world, as well as you. That is the very thing I want to do; to draw off my affections from this world, and fix them on a better. But how 1 What is the surest and the shortest way ? Is it not to be humble'lf Surely this is a large step in the way. But the question recurs, how am I to do this ? To own the necessity of it, is not to be humble. In many things you have interceded for me and prevailed. Who knows but in this too you may be successful ? If you can spare me only that little part of Thursday evening, which you formerly bestowed * Warburton contended that there was no Holy Spirit now, as given to man, except those writings; and so it was left to the carnal mind, which is enmity against God, to apply them! f Neither the mother nor the son seem to have had any notion of their want of the proper Christian faith. Vol. I 15 110 THE LIFE OF upon me in another manner, I doubt not but it would be as useful now for correcting my heart, as it was then for forming my judgment. “ When I observe how fast life flies away, and how slow improve¬ ment comes, I think one can never be too much afraid of dying before one has learned to live: I mean, even in the course of nature. For were I sure that 4 the silver cord should not be violently loosedthat 4 the wheel should not be broken at the cistern,’ till it was quite worn away by its own motion; yet what a time would this give me for such a work! A moment to transact the business of eternity! What are forty years in comparison of this ? So that were I sure of what never man yet was sure of, how little would it alter the case ? How justly still might I cry out, “ Downward I hasten to my destined place; There none obtain thy aid, none sing thy praise ! Soon shall I lie in death’s deep ocean drown’d; Is mercy there, is sweet forgiveness found ? “ O save me yet, while on the brink I stand ; Rebuke these storms, and set me safe on land. O make my longings and thy mercy sure ! Thou art the God of power.” This letter shows an ardent mind, wholly occupied in pursuit of a saving knowledge of God ; but embarrassed and perplexed, not know¬ ing which way to turn, and yet willing to sacrifice the dearest object in life to obtain the end in view. Mr. Morgan had now been ill more jfchan twelve months ; and was so greatly reduced, that he became a burden to himself, and totally useless to others. In this stage of his disease, his understanding sometimes appeared deranged; he became more changeable in his temper than usual, and inconsistent in his conversation. But this was purely the effect of his disease; not the least symptom of the kind having ever appeared, till long after his health had declined. His father, being fully informed of the state of his health, wrote to him in March, and told him, that he should no longer be limited in his expenses to any fixed allowance, and that such sums as were necessary for his health should be immediately remitted to him ; but strongly insisted, that no part of it should be given away, and that he should lay it out in recreation, medicine, and such other matters as might be neces¬ sary for the recovery and support of his health. He then says, 44 You cannot conceive what a noise that ridiculous Society in which you are engaged, has made here. Besides the particulars of the great follies of it at Oxford, which to my great concern I have often heard repeated, it gave me sensible trouble to hear, that you were noted for going into the villages about Holt; calling their children together, and teaching them their prayers and catechism, and giving them a shilling at your departure. I could not but advise with a wise, pious, and learned cler¬ gyman : he told me, that he has known the worst of consequences follow from such blind zeal; and plainly satisfied me, that it was a thorough mistake of true piety and religion. I proposed writing to some prudent and good man at Oxford to reason with you on these points, and to convince you that you were in a wrong way. He said, in a generous mind, as he took yours to be, the admonition and advice of a lather would make a deeper impression than all the exhortations of others. He concluded, that you were young as yet, and that your judgment was THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. Ill not come to its maturity ; but as soon as your judgment improved, and on the advice of a true friend, you would see the error of your way, and think, as he does, that you may walk uprightly and safely, without endeavouring to outdo all the good bishops, clergy, and other pious and good men of the present and past ages : which God Almighty give you grace and sense to understand aright!” What a genuine picture of the religion of the world! In the month of April, Mr. Samuel Wesley visited Oxford, and spent u few days there; no doubt with a view Chiefly to satisfy himself, on the spot, of the truth or falsehood of the various accounts that were given him of his two brothers. When he returned to London, he wrote a hasty poetical epistle to his brother Charles* in which he has clearly expressed his opinion of their conduct, and the views he had formed of their opponents. The latter part of it refers to the unhappy situation of Mr. Morgan. April 20, 1732. Though neither are o’erstock’d with precious time, If I can write it, you may read my rhyme ; And find an hour to answer, I suppose, In verse harmonious or in humble prose, What I, when late at Oxford could not say, My friends so numerous, and so short my stay. Let useless questions first aside be thrown, Which all men may reply to, or that none: As whether Doctors doubt the D— will die; Or F - still retains his courtesy ? Or J-n dies daily in conceit, Dies without death, and walks without his feet? What time the library completes its shell ? What hand revives the discipline of Fell ? What house for learning shall rewards prepare, Which orators and poets justly share, And see a second Atterbury there ? Say', does your Christian purpose still proceed, T’ assist in ev’ry shape the wretches’ need ? To free the prisoner from his anxious jail, When friends forsake him, and relations fail? Or yet with nobler charity conspire To snatch the guilty from eternal fire ? Has your small squadron firm in trial stood, Without preciseness, singularly good ? Safe march they on ’twixt dangerpus extremes, Of mad profaneness and enthusiasts’ dreams, Constant in prayer, while God approve? their pains. His Spirit cheers them and his blood sustains ? Unmoved by pride or anger, can they bear The foolish laughter, or the envious fleer ? No wonder, wicked men blaspheme their care, The devil always dreads offensive war; Where heavenly zeal the sons of night pursues, Likely to gain, and certain not to lose ; The sleeping conscience wakes by dangers near. And pours the light in, they so greatly fear. * But hold, perhaps this dry religious toil May damp the genius, and the scholar spoil. Perhaps facetious foes to meddling fools Shine in the class, and sparkle in the schools ; Your arts excel, your eloquence outgo, And soar like Virgil, or like Tully flow ; • Have brightest turns, and deepest learning shown. And proved your wit mistaken by their own. 112 THE LIFE OF Ii not—the wights should moderately rail, j Whose total merit, summ’d from fair detail, t Is, saunt’ring, sleep, and smoke, and wine, and ale, 3 How contraries may meet without design! . And pretty gentlemen and bigots join! A pert young rake observes, with saucy airs, “ That none can know the world who say their prayers And Rome in middle ages used to grant, The most devout were still most ignorant. So, when old bloody Noll our ruin wrought, Was ignorance the best devotion thought; His crop-hair’d saints all marks of sense deface, And preach, that learning is a foe to grace; English was spoke in schools, and Latin ceased, They quite reform’d the language of the beast. One or two questions more before I end, That much concern a brother and a friend. Does J ohn seem bent beyond his strength to go, To his frail carcass literally foe ? Lavish of health, as if in haste to die, And shorten time, t’ ensure eternity ? Does Morgan weakly think his time mis-spent: Of his best actions can he now repent? Others, their sins with reason just deplore, The guilt remaining when the pleasure’s o’er: Since the foundations of the world were laid, Shall he for virtue first himself upbraid ? Shall he, what most men to their sins deny, Show pains for alms, remorse for piety ? Can he the Sacred Eucharist decline ? What Clement poisons here the bread and wine ? Or does his sad disease possess him whole, And taint alike his body and his soul ? If to renounce his graces he decree, O! that he could transfer the stock to me! Alas! enough what mortal e’er can do, For Him who made him and redeemed him too ? Zeal may to man beyond desert be show’d, No supererogation stands to God. As the persons united in the Society at Oxford were all zealous members of the Church of England, by the advice of Mr. Clayton, who had now joined them, they added, to their former practices, a regular observance of the fast of the church; the general neglect of which, they thought, was by no means a sufficient excuse for neglecting them. Being in London, in the month of July, Mr. Wesley went down to Putney, to pay Mr. Law a visit, which was the introduction to a personal acquaintance with each other. Mr. Wesley occasionally repeated his visits, and a friendly correspondence followed, which lasted several years. From this time, he began to read the Theologia Germanica , and other mystic writers, of which I shall afterwards have occasion to take some notice. But neither the writings, nor the man, ever showed him his want of faith. They were not calculated to do so, as we shall see in the sequel. He also now became known to many pious and respectable individuals in London, and heartily approved of the conduct of those well-disposed persons, who associated together to carry on a plan of suppressing vice, and spreading religion and virtue among the people ; and, on the 3d of August was admitted into “ the Society for the Propagation of Christian Knowledge.” Mr. Wesley, and those associated with him, now suffered the entire loss of Mr. Morgan. He left Oxford on the 5th of June, and died in THE &EV. JOHtf WESLEY. 113 Dublin on the 26th of August. That this is the true time of his death, is evident from a letter from his.father to Mr. Charles Wesley, dated September the 5th. He says, “ From the intimacy which I understood to have been contracted between you and my dear son, I make no doubt but you must have some concern upon you at the reading the account of his death, as I have the greatest in writing it. His distemper threw him into a fever, of which he died the 26th past, about four in the morn¬ ing. This is the soonest that I could attempt writing any thing about him, since my affliction was consummated.—You see, I make very free with you; but the candour and generosity for which I have heard you commended, embolden me to it; and I shall, I hope, find some oppor¬ tunities to make amends, and beg you will, upon all Occasions, let me know when I can be serviceable to you in this kingdom.” During the course of this summer, Mr. Wesley made two journeys to Epworth. In these excursions, he often went considerably out of his way, to spend a night, and sometimes two or three, with a friend ; most frequently with the parents or relations of some of his pupils. In the first journey, while he was standing on the garden wall at a friend’s house, it fell flat under him; but he escaped unhurt. His second jour¬ ney was in order to meet his brother Samuel, &c, at Epworth, and that the whole family might once more assemble together, before their final separation by death. This meeting must have been very affecting; for as their father was growing infirm, and his son Samuel was now going to reside wholly at Tiverton, in Devon, it was not probable they would ever see each other again. Mr. Wesley returned to Oxford on the 23d of September; and as soon as it was known there that Mr. Morgan was dead, a report was propagated, that the rigorous fasting he had imposed on himself, by the advice of Mr. John and Mr. Charles Wes¬ ley, had hastened his death. As this report was highly prejudicial to their character, and might hinder their usefulness; and as it was pro¬ bable it would reach the father, and might afflict him, and prejudice him more deeply against his son’s conduct, and the persons with whom he had been connected ; Mr. Wesley thought it best to write to him, and state the matter as it really was. His letter is dated the 18th of Octo¬ ber, this year.* “ The occasion,” says he, “ of giving you this trouble is of a very extraordinary nature. On Sunday last I was informed, as no doubt you will be ere long, that my brother and I had killed your son;—that the rigorous fasting which he had imposed upon himself, by our advice, had increased his illness and hastened his death. Now, though, considering it in itself, it is a very small thing with me to be judged of man's judgment; yet, as the being thought guilty of so mis¬ chievous an imprudence might make me less able to do the work I came into the world for, I am obliged to clear myself of it, by observing to you, as I have done to others, that your son left off fasting about a year and a half since, and that it is not yet half a year since I began to practise it. “ I must not let this opportunity slip of doing my part towards giving * In the printed copies of this letter the date is 1730. But in a manuscript, in Mr. Charles Wesley’s handwriting, the date is 1732, which is the true date of it, as appears from Mr. Morgan’s account of his son’s death. The true date may be collected from the letter itself, compared with Mr. John Wesley’s Short History of Methodism, which fixes the time when they became acquainted with Mr. Clayton. 114 THE LIFE OF you a juster notion of some other particulars, relating both to him and myself, which have been industriously misrepresented to you. “ In March last he received a letter from you/ which not being able to read, he desired me to read to him: several of the expressions I perfectly remember, and shall do till I too am called hence.—In one practice for which you blamed your son, I am only concerned as a friend, not as a partner. Your own account of it was, in effect, this : 1 He frequently went into poor people’s houses about Holt, called their children together, and instructed them in their duty to God, their neigh¬ bour, and themselves. He likewise explained to them the necessity of private as well as public prayer, and provided them with such forms as were best suited to their several capacities; and being well apprised how the success of his endeavours depended on their good will towards him, he sometimes distributed among them a little of that money which he had saved from gaming and .other fashionable expenses of the place.’ —This is the first charge against him, and I will refer it to your own judgment, whether it be fitter to have a place in the catalogue of his faults, or of those virtues for which he is now numbered among the sons of God ? “ If all the persons concerned in ‘ that ridiculous society, whose follies you have so often heard repeated,’ could but give such a proof of their deserving the glorious title which was once bestowed upon them, they would be contented that their lives too should be counted madness, and their end thought to be without honour. But the truth is, their title to holiness stands upon much less stable foundations, as you will easily perceive when you know the ground of this wonderful outcry, which it seems England itself is not wide enough to contain.” He then gives Mr. Morgan a short history of their little society; informing him what their practices were, and of their care to consult wise, learned, and pious clergymen, in every step they had taken, in the manner described above. He subjoins, “ As for the names of Methodists, Supererogation-men, and so on, with which •some of our neighbours are pleased to compliment us, we do not conceive ourselves to be under any obligation to regard them, much less to take them for arguments. To the law and to the testimony we appeal, whereby we ought to be judged. If by these it can be proved we are in an error, we will immediately and gladly retract it: if not, we have not so learned Christ , as to renounce any part of his service, though men should say all manner of evil against us, with more judgment and as little truth as hitherto.—Your son already stands before the judgment-seat of Him who judges righteous judgment; at the brightness of whose presence the clouds remove ; his eyes are open, and he sees clearly whether it was ‘ blind zeal and a thorough mistake of true religion that hurried him on in the error of his way,’ or whether he acted like a faithful and wise servant, who from a just sense that his time was short, made haste to finish his work before his Lord’s coming, that, when laid in the balance , he might not be found wanting .” This well-timed letter, containing a simple narrative of facts, fully satisfied Mr. Morgan. His answer, which is dated November 25, shows him to have been a man of moderation and a friend to piety. It is as follows : “ Your favour of the 20th past was delayed in its passage, I believe, by contrary winds, or it had not been so long unanswered. I THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, 115 give entire credit to every thing and every fact you relate. It was ill- judged of my poor son to take to fasting, with regard to his health, of which I knew nothing, or I should have advised him against it. He was inclined to piety and virtue from his infancy. I must own, I was much concerned at the strange accounts which were spread here, of some extraordinary practices of a religious society in which he had engaged at Oxford, (which, you may be sure, lost nothing in the car¬ riage,) lest, through his youth and immaturity of judgment, he might be hurried into zeal and enthusiastic notions, that would prove pernicious. But now, indeed, that piety and holiness of life which he practised affords me some comfort in the midst of my affliction for the loss of him ; having full assurance of his being for ever happy. The good account you are pleased to give of your own and your friends’ conduct, in point of duty and religious offices, and the zealous approbation of them by the good old gentleman your father, signified in a manner and style becoming the best of men, reconciles and recommends that method of life to me, and makes me almost wish that I were one among you. I am very much obliged to you for the great pains you have Been at, in transcribing so long and so particular an account for my perusal, and shall be always ready to vindicate you from any calumny or aspersion that I shall hear cast upon you. I am much obliged for your and your brother’s great civilities and assistances to my dearest son. I thank the author of those lines you sent me, for the regard he has shown to his memory. If ever I can be serviceable to any of you in this king¬ dom, I beg you will let me know.”—This correspondence continued some time between Mr. Wesley and Mr. Morgan ;* and the year fol¬ lowing, Mr. Morgan sent his only surviving son to Oxford, and placed him under Mr. Wesley’s care. This was the strongest proof he could possibly give, that he approved of his conduct. The character of that lamented young gentleman, the elder of Mr. Morgan’s sons, is well drawn up by Mr. Samuel Wesley, jun., in the following poetic tribute to his memory:— ELEGIAC VERSES ON THE DEATH OF MR. MORGAN. “ IVe fools counted his life madness.” Ik aught beneath them happy souls attend, Let Morgan hear the triumph of a friend, And hear well pleased. Let libertines so gay. With careless indolence despise the lay: Let critic wits, and fools for laughter bom, Their verdict pass with supercilious scorn : Let jovial crowds, by wine their senses drown’d. Stammer out censure in their frantic round : Let yawning sluggards faint dislike display, Who, while they trust to-morrow, lose to-day: Let such as these the sacred strains condemn ; For’t is true glory to be hiss’d by them. Wise in his prime, he waited not for noon, Convinced that mortal never lived too soon. As if foreboding here his little stay, He made his morning bear the heat of day: Fix’d, while unfading glory he pursues, No ill to hazard, and no good to lose. No fair occasion glides unheeded by; i Snatching the golden moments as they fly, > He by few fleeting hours ensures eternity. \ * Their Letters arc now before me 116 THE LIFE OF Friendship’s warm beams his artless breast inspire, And tend’rest reverence for a much-loved sire. He dared for heaven this flatt’ring world forego. Ardent to teach as diligent to know Unwarp’d by sensual views or vulgar aims, By idle riches, or by idler names; Fearful of sin in every close disguise, Unmoved by.threat’ning or by glozing lies. Seldom, indeed, the wicked came so far, Forced by his piety to defensive war; Whose zeal for other men’s salvation shown, Beyond the reach of hell secured his own: Gladd’ning the poor, where’er his steps he turn’d. Where pined the orphan, or the widow mourn’d; Where prisoners sighed beneath guilt’s horrid stain. The worst confinement and the heaviest chain, Where death’s sad shade the uninstructed sight Veiled with thick darkness in the land of light. Our Saviour thus fulfilled his great design, (If human we may liken to divine.) Heal’d each disease that bodies frail endure, And preach’d th’ unhoped-for Gospel to the poor. To means of grace the last respect he show’d, Nor sought new paths, as wiser than his God : Their sacred strength preserved him from extremes . Of empty outside, or enthusiast dreams. He knew, that works our faith must here employ, And that’t is heaven’s great business to enjoy. * • Fix’d on that heaven he death’s approaches saw, Nor vainly murmur’d at our nature’s law; Repined not that his youth so soon should go. Nor grieved for fleeting pleasures here below. Of sharpest anguish .scorning to complain, He fills with mirth the intervals of pain : Not only unappall’d, but joyful, sees • The dark cold passage that must lead to peace Strong with immortal bloom, secure to rise, The tears for ever banish’d from his eyes. Who now regrets, his early youth would spend The life so nobly that so soon should end ? Who blames the stripling for performing more Than doctors grave and prelates of threescore ? Who now esteems his fervour indiscreet, , His prayers too frequent, or his alms too great ? Who thinks, where blest he reigns beyoncfthe sky, His crown too radiant, or his throne too high ? Who, but the fiend who once his course withstood. And whispered,—“ Stay till fifty to be good !” Sure, if believed, t’ obtain his hellish aim. Adjourning to the time that never came ! The young gentleman mentioned above was then the only son of Mr. Morgan, and of a very different disposition from his deceased bro¬ ther. His father seems to have been what is usually called “ a very good sort of a man.” In the correspondence that took place between them, he informs Mr. Charles Wesley, that it was three years and a quarter since his son left school, “ being then fit for the University, and at least as good a scholar as his brother was when he went to Oxford.” He observes, “ I then purchased an office for him in the Law; but I fear he has read very little of Greek or Latin since that time, and that he has forgotten a great deal of what he had learned at school; but I don’t think his parts very bad. He was nineteen years of age last July, and is very lusty of his age. I believe he is five feet ten inches high. He has been somewhat gay, and gone to plays and balls, but addicted to no vice. He has often wished rather to be put forward in his learning, THE HEV. JOHN WESLEY. 117 than to stick to an office, in which I am now inclined to indulge him. If it. be advisable to put him in this new way of life, you may be sure I can think of no other for his tutor but yourself.’ , —Mr. Charles Wesley, thinking the young man would be safer with his brother John, consigned him to his care, with which arrangement Mr. Morgan was well satisfied. The young gentleman had, however, very naturally, other views than those of his careful and benevolent father. He desired that he might be entered a Gentleman Commoner of Lincoln, under Mr. John Wesley, in order that, as he expressed himself to his father, he “ might have o little superiority among his cotemporaries, and not be slighted or despised by them promising to “be as conformable to all the rules and disci¬ pline of the College as if he were a Servitor. With this request also his father complied. Appearing now in the Gentlemen Commoners’ room, as Mr. Mor¬ gan’s heir, he became an object of attraction to his gay associates. He brought a favourite greyhound with him, which he introduced also into the College,—a pretty plain indication how much he wished to conform to the rules. But all would not do. It was soon known that he was Mr. Wesley’s pupil, and the name of JVfethodist was fastened upon him. He became very uneasy at this ; and after some time, made known his situation to his father, in a long letter, and in terms as dolorous and as queer as Bishop Lavington himself could have done, if lie had been then a Fresh-man. He concluded with desiring rather to return to his office, than to suffer what he did from his companions, by being Mr. Wesley’s pupil. His tutor having discovered this, immediately wrote the follow¬ ing letter to Mr. Morgan : ^ “ January 14th, 1734. “ Sir, —Going yesterday into your son’s room, I providentially cast my eyes upon a paper that lay upon the table, and contrary to my cus¬ tom, read a line or two of it, which soon determined me to read the rest. It was a copy of his last letter to you; whereby, by the signal blessing of God, I came to the knowledge of his real sentiments, both with regard to myself and to several other points of the highest importance. “ In the account he gives of me, and those friends who are as my own soul, are some things true :—as, that we may imagine it is our bounden duty to spend our whole lives in the service of Him that gave them, or in other words, 4 whether we eat or drink , or whatever we do , fo do all to the glory of God; 7 that we endeavour, as we are able, to relieve the poor by buying books and other necessaries for them; that some of us read prayers at the prison once a day ; that I administer the Sacrament once a month, and preach there as often as I am not engaged elsewhere ; that we sit together five evenings in a week ; and that we observe, as far as our health will permit, the fasts of the Church. Some things are false, but taken upon trust, so that I hope Mr. Morgan believed them true : as that we almost starve ourselves ; that one of us had like lately to have lost his life, by too great abstinence ; that we endeavour to reform notorious whores, and to lay spirits in haunted houses ; that we all rise every day at five o’clock; and that I am Pre¬ sident of the Society. As strange as it may appear, that one present upon the spot should so far vary from the truth in his relation, I can easily account, not only for his mistake, but for his designed misrepre- V 0L. I. 16 lib THE LIFE OF sentation too. The company he is almost daily with, (from whom indeed I should have divided him, had not your letters, coming in the article of time, tied my hands,) abundantly accounts for the former; as his desire to lessen y$ur regard for me, and thereby obviate the force of any future complaint, which he foresaw I might some time hence have occasion to make to you, does for the latter: and indeed I am not with¬ out apprehension, that some such occasion may shortly come. I need not describe that apprehension to you. Is there not a cause ? Is he not surrounded, even in this recess, with those who are often more pernicious than open libertines ?—men who retain something of outward decency, and nothing else ; who seriously idle away the whole day, and reputably revel till midnight, and if not drunken themselves, yet encou¬ raging and applauding those that are so ; who have no more of the form than of the power of godliness, and though they do pretty often drop in at the public prayers, coming after the most solemn part of them is over, yet expressly disown any obligation to attend them. It is true, they have not yet laughed your son out of all his diligence ; but how long it will be before they have, God knows. They zealously endeavour it at all convenient opportunities ; and temporal views are as unable to sup¬ port him under such an attack as his slender notions of religion are ; of which, he often says, he thinks he shall have enough, if he constantly says his prayers at home, and in the chapel. As to my advice on this or any other head, they had secured him pretty well before; and your authority added to theirs has supplied him with armour of proof against it. “ I now beg to know what you would have me do ? Shall I sit still, and let him swim down the stream ? Or shall I plunge in, bound, as I am, hand and foot, and oppose myself to his company, his inclinations, and his father 1 ? Why, you say, I am to incite him to live a sober, vir¬ tuous, and religious life. Nay, but first let us agree what religion is. I take religion to be, not the bare saying over so many prayers, morn¬ ing and evening, in public or in private ; not any thing superadded now and then to a careless or worldly life; but a constant ruling habit of soul; a renewal of our minds in the image of God ; a recovery of the Divine likeness ; a still increasing conformity of heart and life to the pattern of our most Holy Redeemer. But if this be religion, if this be the way to life which our blessed Lord hath marked out for us, how can any one, while he keeps close to this way, be charged with running into extremes ? It is true, there is no going out of it, either to the right hand or to the left, without running into an extreme ; and to prevent this, the wisdom of the church has, in all ages, appointed guides for the unex¬ perienced, lest they should wander into by-paths, and seek death in the error of their life. But while he is in the right way, what fear is there of your son’s going too fast in it ? I appeal to your own experience. Have you observed any such disposition in him, as gives you ground to suspect he will love God too well, or keep himself too ‘ unspotted from the world V Or has his past life been such, as that you have just reason to apprehend the remainder of it should too much resemble that of our blessed Master? I will go farther. Have you remarked, in the various scenes you have gone through, that youth in general is apt to run into the extreme of piety ? Is it to this excess that the fervour of their blood and the impetuosity of their passions, hurry them ? But we may not stop here. Is there any fear, is there any possibility, that any son of THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 11.9 Adam, of whatever age or degree, should too faithfully do the will of his Creator, or too exactly tread in the steps of his Redeemer ? Sup¬ pose the time now come when you feel within yourself, that the silver cord of life is loosed, that the dust is returning to the earth as it was, and the spirit unto God who gave it. The snares of death overtake you. Nothing but pain is on the one hand, eternity on the other. The tears of the friends that surround your bed, bear witness with the pangs of your own heart, that it has few pulses more to beat before you launch out into the sea without a shore ; before the soul shall part from the quivering lips, and stand naked before the judgment-seat of God. Will you then be content with having served God according to the custom of the place you was in'? Will you regret your having been, even from your youth, more pure and holy than the rest of mankind? Will you complain to the ministering spirits who receive your new-born soul, that you have been over zealous in the love of your Master ? Ask not me, a poor, fallible, sinful mortal, never safe either from the snares of ill example or the treachery of my own heart; but ask them , ask Him who died to make you and me and your son zealous of good works,—whe¬ ther you may be excused for your solicitude, your too successful solici¬ tude, to prevent his falling into this extreme ? How needless has he made that solicitude already! But, I spare you. The good God be merciful to us both! Think not, sir, that interest occasions the concern I show: I abhor the thought. From the moment my brother told me, ' Mr. Morgan will he safer with you than me ; I have desired him to he sent to you,’ —I determined (though I never mentioned it to him,) to restore to him whatsoever is paid me upon Mr. Morgan’s account; it is, with regard to me, an accursed thing. There shall no such cleave unto me. I have sufficient motives, without this, to assist your son, so long as he will accept my assistance. He is the brother of my dear friend, the son of one that was my friend till great names warped him from his purpose ; and, what is infinitely more, the creature of my God, and the redeemed and fellow-heir of my Saviour. “ That neither the cares of the world, nor the fair speeches and venerable titles of any who set up their rest therein, may prevent our attaining our better inheritance, is the earnest praver of, “ Sir, “ Your most obliged, “ And most obedient Servant, “ John Wesley. “ Richard Morgan, Esq., &c.” I have inserted this letter, (which was never before published,) because it exhibits a true guide of youth, in a most striking light of devoted faithfulness ; and because it may haply teach some, who sigh for the conversion of the ivorld, while they strangely neglect those who arc round about them, and are their special charge, how awfully they mistake the way of God ! “ He who knew what ivas in man,” and who cannot err, has said, “ He that is faithful in little, is faithful also in much.” How gloriously this was realized, in the vast labour and great success of this devoted servant of Christ, will be seen, though very imperfectly, in these Memoirs. It is evident, that not the son only, but, the infatuated, though well-meaning father, occupied Mr. Wesley’s affiec- 120 THE LIFE OF tionate heart. What effect this earnest expostulation had on both, wfe know not fully; but it will be seen in that day. The Lord was about to lead his great and prepared instrument out of the shallows of indivi¬ dual and vexatious effort, into a wide field of labour, and into a harvest of souls, that shall only be fully known when “ the reapers are the angels.” On the 1st of January, 1733, Mr. Wesley preached at St. Mary’s, Oxford, before the University, on “ The Circumcision of the Hearty ” Romans ii, 29. In this discourse, which is printed in the second volume of his Sermons, he explained with great clearness, and energy of lan¬ guage, his views of the Christian Salvation to be attained in this life; from which he never varied, in any material point, to the day of his death. He was indeed, at this time, almost wholly ignorant of the Gospel method of attaining this salvation; but he sought it with his whole heart, according to the knowledge he then had, and was willing to sacrifice the dearest thing he possessed in the world, for the attain¬ ment of it. The truth is, he was, like Saul of Tarsus, “ alive ivithout the law.” He was not yet “ slain by the commandment,” and therefore did not come to God in his true character. He who u justifieth only the ungodly,” could not therefore justify him : the faith which he had at that time could not be imputed to him for righteousness, and hence he had not “ peace and joy in believing.” His father was now in a bad state of health, and seemed declining apace. On this account he set out on horseback for Epworth, in the beginning of January. As he was passing over the bridge beyond Daventry, his horse fell over it with him ; but he again escaped unhurt! For these interpositions of Providence, Mr. Wesley did not fail to give the tribute of praise and thanksgiving to his Divine Deliverer. The state of his father’s health induced his parents to turn their thoughts to the means of obtaining the Living of Epworth for him, in case of his father’s demise. This was mentioned to him when he was with them, but he seems to have then tyut little attended to it. After his return to Oxford, in February, he wrote to his mother on the subject. “You observed,” says he, “ when I was with you, that I was very indif¬ ferent as to the having or not having the Living of Epworth. I was indeed utterly unable to determine either way; and that for this reason: I know, if I could stand my ground here, and approve myself a faithful minister of our blessed Jesus, by honour and dishonour, through evil report and good report; then there would not be a place under the heaven like this, for improvement in every good work. But whether I can stem the torrent which I saw then, but see now much more, rolling down from all sides upon me,—that I knew not. It is true, there is One who can yet either command the great water-flood that it shall not come nigh me, i or make a way for his redeemed to pass through .’ But then something must be done on my part: and should He give me, even that most equitable condition, 6 According to thy faith be it unto thee vet how shall I fulfil it ? Why He will look to that too;—my father and you helping together with your prayers, that our faith fail us not.” In May, he set out again for Epworth, and took Manchester in his way, to see his friend Mr. Clayton, who had now left Oxford. From thence he proceeded to Epworth, and returned to Manchester on Satur¬ day the 2d of June. The next day he preached three times, once at the Old Church, again in Salford, and at St. Anne’s. When he reached THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 121 Oxford, he perceived the bad effects of his absence upon his pupils, and the members of their little Society. He now found himself surrounded with enemies triumphing over him, and friends deserting him; he saw the fruits of his labours in danger of being blasted before they had attained maturity. But he stood firm as a rock ; and being conscious of his own integrity, and that he had nothing in view but to serve God « in righteousness and true holiness,” and to benefit his neighbour, he viewed his situation without emotion. He wrote to his father in the simplicity and fulness of his heart; and this letter shows the man, and his manner of viewing difficulties, infinitely better than any description which another can give of him. It is dated the 13th of June. “ The effects of my last journey, I believe, will make me more cau¬ tious of staying any time from Oxford for the future ; at least till I have no pupils to take care of, which probably will be within a year or two. One of my young gentlemen told me at my return, that he was more and more afraid of singularity ; another, that he had read an excellent piece of Mr. Locke’s, which had convinced him of the mischief of regarding authority. Both of them agreed, that the observing of Wed¬ nesday as a fast was an unnecessary singularity ; the Catholic Church (that is, the majority of it) having long since repealed, by contrary custom, the injunction she formerly gave concerning it. A third, who could not yield to this argument, has been convinced by a fever, and Dr. Frewin. Our seve .11 and twenty communicants at St. Mary’s, were on Monday shrunk to five ; and the day before, the last of Mr. Clayton’s pupils, who continued with us, informed me, that he did not design to meet us any more. “My ill success, as they call it, seems to be what has frightened every one away from a falling house. On Sunday I was considering the matter a little more nearly; and imagined, that all the ill consequences of my singularity were reducible to three—diminution of fortune, loss of friends, and of reputation.—As to my fortune, I well know, though perhaps others do not, that T could not have borne a larger than I have : and as for that most plausible excuse for desiring it, 4 While I have so little I cannot do the good I would ;’ I ask, can you do the good God would have you do ? It is enough! Look no farther.—For friends, they were either trifling or serious : if triflers, fare them well; a noble escape: if serious, those who are more serious are left, whom the others would rather have opposed than forwarded in the service they have done, and still do us. If it be said, ‘ But these may leave you too; for they are no firmer than the others were.’ First, I doubt that fact; but next, suppose they should, we hope then they would only teach us a nobler and harder lesson, than any they have done hitherto; 4 It is better to trust in the Lord , than to put any confidence in man.' —And as for reputation, though it be a glorious instrument of advancing our Master’s service, yet there is a better than that, a clean heart, a single eye , a soul full of God ! A fair exchange, if by the loss of reputation we can purchase the lowest degree of purity of heart! We beg my mother and you would not cease to work together with us, that, what¬ ever we lose, we may gain this ; and that having tasted of this good gift, we may count all things else but dung and dross in comparison of it.” Mr. Wesley now redoubled his diligence with his pupils, that they might recover the ground which they had lost. But as he had been 122 THE LIFE OF blamed for singularity, both by friends and enemies, and many had thought that he too rigorously imposed some particular practices upon others ; he informed his mother what the singularity was, which chiefly gave offence at Oxford, and explained the methods he used with his pupils, to instruct them in the ‘things of God. This letter is dated August the 17th. “ The thing,” says he, u that gives offence here is, the being singular with regard to time, expense, and company. This is evident beyond exception, from the case of Mr. Smith, one of our Fellows ; who no sooner began to husband his time, to retrench unneces¬ sary expenses, and to avoid his irreligious acquaintance, but he was set upon, by not only all those acquaintance, but many others too, as if he had entered into a conspiracy to cut all their throats : though to this day he has not advised any single person, unless in a word or two and by accident, to act as he did in any of those instances. 11 It is true indeed, that ‘ the devil hates offensive war most/ and that whoever tries to rescue more than his own soul from his hands, will have more enemies, and meet with greater opposition, than if he was content with having his own life for a prey. That I try to do this, is likewise certain : but I cannot say whether I ‘ rigorously impose any observances on others/ till I know what that phrase means. What I do, is this : when I am intrusted with a person who is first to understand and practise, and then to teach, the law of Christ, I endeavour by ail intermixture of reading and conversation, to show him what that law is; that is, to renounce all insubordinate love of the world, and to love and obey God with all his strength. When he appears seriously sensible of this, I propose to him the means God hath commanded him to use, in order to that end; and, a week or a month or a year after, as the state of his soul seems to require it, the several prudential means recommend¬ ed by wise and good men.* As to the times, order, measure, and manner, wherein these are to be proposed, I depend upon the Holy Spirit to direct me, in and by my own experience and reflection, joined to the advices of my religious friends here and elsewhere. Only two rules it is my principle to observe in all cases : First, to begin, continue and end all my advices in the spirit of meekness ; as knowing that the wrath or severity of man worketh not the righteousness of God: and Secondly, to add to meekness long-suffering; in pursuance of a rule which I fixt long since, ‘ never to give up any one till I have tried him, at least, ten years /—how long hath God had pity on thee ? “ If the wise and good will believe those falsehoods which the bad invent, because I endeavour to save myself and my friends from them, then I shall lose my reputation, even among them, for (though not per¬ haps good, yet) the best actions I ever did in my life. This is the very case. I try to act as my Lord commands : ill men say all manner of evil of me, and good men believe them. There is a way, and there is but one, of making my peace ; God forbid I should ever take it. I have as many pupils as I need, and as many friends: when more are better for me, I shall have more. If I have no more pupils after these are gone from me, I shall then be glad of a Curacy near you : if I have, I shhll take it as a signal that I am to remain here. Whether here or there, * He did not yet feel the want of living faith, and consequently did not inculcate it upon others. The method described above is Mr. Law’s plan,—or at least the best part of it Mr. Wesley was still toiling in that fire. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 123 my desire is, to know and feel that I am nothing, that I have nothing, and that I can do nothing. For whenever I am empty of myself, then know I of a surety, that neither friends nor foes, nor any creature, can hinder me from being ‘ filled with all the fulness of God. 1 Let not my father’s, or your prayers, be ever slack in behalf of your affectionate son.” On the 21st of September, 1734, Mr. Wesley began the practice of reading as he travelled on horseback; and this practice he continued for nearly forty years, till his advanced age obliged him to travel in a carriage. His frequent journeys, often on foot as well as on horseback, and the great and constant labour of preaching, reading, visiting, &c, wherever he was, with hard study and a very abstemious diet, had now very much affected his health. His strength was greatly reduced, and he had frequent returns of spitting of blood. In the night of the 16th of July, he had a return of it in such quantity as waked him out of sleep. The sudden and unexpected manner of its coming on, with the solemnity of the night season, made eternity seem near. He cried to God, “ O ! prepare me for thy coming, and come when thou wilt.”* His friends began to be alarmed for his safety, and his mother wrote two or three letters, blaming him for the general neglect of his health. He now took the advice of a physician ; and by proper care, and a prudent manage¬ ment of his daily exercise, he gradually recovered his strength. The whole force of Mr. Wesley’s mind was now bent to religious subjects. In reflecting on the progress of the soul towards an entire conformity to the will of God and a fitness f for heaven, he observed, that there are certain states, of mind which are more strongly marked than others, and that these states ascertain our progress with some degree of certainty.| He wrote to his mother on this subject. She answered him in a letter of January: “You are entirely in the right in what you say in the second paragraph of your letter. The different degree's of virtue and piety are different states of soul, which must be passed through gradually;—for, in all matters of religion, if there be not an internal sense in the hearer corresponding to the sense in the mind of the speaker, what is said will have no effect: this I have often experienced; yet sometimes it falls out, that while a zealous Christian is discoursing on spiritual subjects, the blessed Spirit of God will give such.light to the minds of those who hear him, as dispels their native darkness, and ena¬ bles them to apprehend those spiritual things, of which before they had no discernment.”—In this letter she addresses a pupil of Mr. Wesley’s who appears to have despised religion. “ Tell him from me,” says she, “ I am as good as my word: I daily pray for him ; and beg of him, if he have the least regard for his soul or have yet any remaining sense of religion in his mind, to shake off all acquaintance with the profane and irregular; for it is the free-thinker and sensualist, not the despised Methodist, who will be ashamed and confounded when summoned to appear before the face of that Almighty Judge, whose Godhead they have blasphemed, and whose offered mercy they despised and ludicrously rejected. The pleasures of sin are but for a short uncertain time, but eternity hath no end. Therefore, one * Private Diary. t Yes; he might learn from Sf. John’s first. Epistle, that there is first, being in Christ , by faith; secondly, abiding in him , by constant faith; thirdly, dwelling in him , by faith mad* perfect, and working by love. All this he had yet to learn. 124 THE LITE OT would think, that few arguments might serve to convince a man, who has not lost his senses, that it is of the last importance for us to be very serious in improving the present time, and acquainting ourselves with God while it is called to-day; lest, being disqualified for his blissful presence, our future existence be inexpressibly miserable.” The health of Mr. Wesley’s father, as it has been stated before, had been declining for several years, and he now seemed approaching towards the close of life. The old gentleman, conscious of his situa¬ tion, and desirous that the living of Ephworth might remain in the family, wrote to his soil John, requesting him to apply for the next presenta¬ tion. We have already seen, that, when the subject was mentioned the year before, he hesitated, and could not determine one way or the other. But he was now determined not to accept of the living, if he could obtain it; and stated to his father some reasons for refusing to comply with his request. His father and his brother Samuel were disappointed; and both attacked him, with every argument they could possibly bring to bear upon him. He acted on the defensive only, and maintained his ground. But the mode of attack, and of his defence, will give us the best view of his principles and disposition of mind at this time. His father’s letter is dated November 20th, and runs as follows :— “ Your state of the question, and only argument, is, ‘ The question is not, whether I could do more good to others, there or here; but whe¬ ther I could do more good to myself; seeing wherever I can be most holy myself, there I can most promote holiness in others. But I can improve myself more at Oxford than at any other place.’ “ To this answer—1. It is not dear self, but the glory of God, and the different degrees of promoting it, which should be our main con¬ sideration and direction in any course of life. Witness St. Paul and MoSes. “ 2. Supposing you could be more holy yourself at Oxford, how does it follow that you could more promote holiness in others, there than elsewhere! Have you found many instances of it after so many years’ hard pains and labour? Farther, I dare say you are more modest and just than to say, there are no holier men than you at Oxford; and yet it is possible they may not have promoted holiness more than you have done ; as I doubt not, but you might have done it much more, had you taken the right method: for, there is a particular turn of mind for these matters ; great prudence as well as great fervour. “3. I cannot allow austerity, or fasting, considered by themselves, to * he proper acts of holiness, nor am I for a solitary life. God made us for a social life ; we are not to bury our talents ; we are to let our light shine before men, and that not barely through the chinks of a bushel, for fear the wind should blow it out. The design of lighting it was, that it might give light to all that went into the house of God. And to this, academical studies are only preparatory. u 4. You are sensible what figures those make, who stay in the Uni¬ versity till they are superannuated. I cannot think drowsiness promotes holiness. How commonly do they drone away their life, either in a College, or in a country parsonage, where they can only give God the snuffs of them, having nothing of life or vigour left to make them useful in the world. “ 5. We are not to fix our eye on one single point of dut.v, but to THE REV. JOHM WESLEl. 125 take in the complicated view of all the circumstances in every state of life that offers. Thus, in the case before us, put all the circumstances together:—If you are not indifferent whether the labours of an aged father, for above forty years in God’s vineyard, be lost, and the fences of it trodden down and destroyed;—if you consider that Mr. M. must, in all probability, succeed me, if you do not;—and that the prospect of that mighty Nimrod’s coming hither shocks my soul, and is in a fan- way of bringing down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave ;—if you have any care for our family, which must be dismally shattered as soon as I am dropped ;—if you reflect on the dear love and longing which this poor people have for you, whereby you will be enabled to do God the more service, and the plenteousness of the harvest, consisting of near two thousand souls, whereas you have not many more scholars in the University:—you may perhaps alter your mind, and bend your will to His, who has promised, if in all our ways we acknowledge him, he will direct our paths.” The old gentleman wrote also to his son Samuel on the subject, who warmly took part with his father, and wrote to his brother at Oxford, in December, 1734. 44 Yesterday,” says he, 44 I received a letter from my father, wherein he tells me, you are unalterably resolved not to accept of a certain living if you could get it. After this declaration, I believe no one can move your mind, but Him who made it. I shall not draw the saw of controversy ; and, therefore, though I judge every proposi¬ tion flatly false, except that of your being assured, yet I shall allow every word, and have nevertheless this to say against your conclusions.— 1. I see your love to yourself; but your love to your neighbour I do not see.—2. You are not at liberty to resolve against undertaking a cure of souls. You are solemnly engaged to do it, before God, and his highpriest, and his church. Are you not ordained 1 Did you not delibe¬ rately and openly promise to instruct, to teach, to admonish, to exhprt those committed to your charge ? Did you equivocate then, with so vile a reservation, as to purpose in your heart that you never would have any so committed ? It is not a College, it is not a University, it is the order of the Church , according to which you were called. Let Charles, if he is silly enough, vow never to leave Oxford, and therefore avoid orders. Your faith is already plighted to the contrary ; you have pul your hand to the plough,—to that plough .”—This is strong language; but would any one believe, that he had himself declined the living, which his father pressed him to seek some time before this, and not upon such strong grounds,—Mr. S. Wesley only preferring his academical studies and employments 1 Such, however, was the fact. He chiefly felt for the family, who, he feared, would be put to great inconvenience, if the living were not retained. Mr. John Wesley, however, kept himself within his fortress, and answered his brother Samuel with caution. His letter is dated January 15th, 1735, and having explained himself at some length to his father, he sent a copy of that letter to his brother. He observes in the remarks which accompany it, • 44 Had not my brother Charles desired it might be otherwise, I should have sent you only an extract of the following letter. But, if you will be at the pains, you will soon reduce the argument of it to two or three points : which, if to be answered at all, will be easily answered. By it you may observe, my present purpose is founded on my present weak- Vol, L 17 126 THE LIFE OF ness: But it is not, indeed, probable, that my father should live till that weakness is removed. “ Your second argument I had no occasion to mention before. To it I answer, that I do not, nor ever did, resolve against undertaking a cure of souls. There are four cures belonging to our College, and consistent with a Fellowship: l do not know but I may take one of them at Michaelmas. Not that I am clearly assured that I should be false to my engagement, were I only to instruct and exhort the pupils committed to my charge. But of that I should think more.” Though the letter to his father is long, yet it contains such a distinct view of his manner of thinking and reasoning, and of the energy of his language, at this period, that it cannot, with propriety, be omitted. “ Dear Sir, —1st. The authority of a parent, and the call of Provi¬ dence, are things of so sacred a nature, that a question in which these are any ways concerned, deserves the most serious consideration. I am, therefore, greatly obliged to you for the pains you have taken to set ours in a clear light; which I now intend to consider more at large, with the utmost attention of which I am capable. And I shall the more cheer¬ fully do it, as being assured of your joining with me in earnestly implo¬ ring His guidance, who will not suffer those that bend their wills to his, to seek death in the error of their life. “2d. I entirely agree, that ‘the glory of God, and the different degrees of promoting it, are to be our sole consideration and direction in the choice of any course of life;’ and, consequently, that it must wholly turn upon this single point, whether I am to prefer a College life, or that of a rector of a parish. I do not say the'glory of God is to be my first, or my principal consideration, but my only one; since all that are not implied in this, are absolutely of no weight: in presence of this, they all vanish away, they are less than the small dust of the balance. “ 3d. And, indeed, till all other considerations were set aside, I could never come to any clear determination; till my eye was single, my whole mind was full of darkness. Every consideration distinct from this, threw a shadow over all the objects I had in view, and was such a cloud as no light could penetrate. Whereas, so long as I can keep my eye single, and steadily fixed on the glory of God, I have no more doubt of the way wherein I should go, than of the shining of the sun at noonday. “ 4th. That course of life tends most to the glory of God, wherein we can most promote holiness in ourselves and others. I say in our¬ selves and others, as being fully persuaded that these can never be put asunder. For how is it possible, that the good God should make our interest inconsistent with our neighbour’s, that he should make our being in one state best for ourselves, and our being in another best for the church? This would be making a strange schism in his body; such as surely never was from the beginning of the world. And if not, then whatever state is best on either of these accounts, is so on the other likewise. If it be best for others, then it is so for us; if for us, then for them. “ 5th. However, when two ways of life are proposed, I should choose to begin with that part of the question, which of these have I rational ground to believe will conduce most to my own improvement? And that, not only because it is every physician’s concern to heal himself THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 127 first, but because it seems we may judge with more ease, and perhaps certainty too, in which state we can most promote holiness in ourselves, than in which we can in others. “ 6th. By holiness, I mean, not fasting, or bodily austerity, or any other external means of improvement; but the inward temper to which all these are subservient, a renewal of the soul in the image of God. I mean a complex habit of lowliness, meekness, purity, faith, hope, and the love of God and man. And I therefore believe, that, in the state wherein I am, I can most promote this holiness in myself, because I now enjoy several advantages, which are almost peculiar to it. “ 7th. The first of these, is daily converse with my friends. I know no other place under heaven where I can have always at hand half a dozen persons nearly of my own judgment, and engaged in the same studies; persons who are awakened into a full and lively conviction, that they have only one work to do upon earth ; who are in some mea¬ sure enlightened so as to see, though at a distance, what that one work is, viz. the recovery of that single intention and pure affection which were in Christ Jesus; who, in order to this, have, according to their power, renounced themselves, and wholly and absolutely devoted them¬ selves to God; and who, suitably thereto, deny themselves, and take up their cross daily. To have such a number of such friends constantly watching over my soul, and, according to the variety of occasions, administering reproof, advice, or exhortation, with all plainness, and all gentleness, is a blessing I have not yet found any Christians to enjoy in any other part of the kingdom. And such a blessing it is, so conducive, if faithfully used, to the increase of all holiness, as I defy any one to know the full value of, till he receives his full measure of glory. “ 8th. Another invaluable blessing, which I enjoy here in a greater degree than I could any where else, is retirement. I have not only as much, but as little company as I please. I have no such thing as a trifling visitant, except about an hour in a month, when I invite some of the Fellows to breakfast. Unless at that one time, no one ever takes it into his head to set foot within my door, except he has some business of importance to communicate to me, or I to him. And even then, as soon as he has despatched his business, he immediately takes his leave. “ 9th. Both these blessings, the continual presence of useful , and uninterrupted freedom from trifling acquaintance, are exceedingly endear¬ ed to me, whenever I have spent but. one week out of this place. The far greatest part of the conversation I meet with abroad, even among those whom I believe to be real Christians, turns on points that are absolutely wide of my purpose, that no way forward me in the business of life. Now, though they may have time to spare, I have none ; it is absolutely necessary for such a one as me to follow, with all possible care and vigilance, that excellent advice of Mr. Herbert,— Still let thy mind be bent, still plotting where, And when, and how, the business may be done. And this, I bless God, I can in some measure do, so long as I avoid that bane of piety, the company of good sort of men , lukewarm Chris¬ tians, (as they are called,) persons that have a great concern for, but no sense of religion. But these undermine insensibly all my resolutions, and quite steal from me the little fervour I have; and I never come from among these Saints of the world , (as J. Valdesso calls them,) 128 THE LIFE OF feint, dissipated, and shorn of all my strength, but 1 say, 4 God deliver me from a half Christian!’ 44 10th. Freedom from care, I take to be the next greatest advantage to freedom from useless, and therefore hurtful company. And this, too, I enjoy in greater perfection here, than I can ever expect to do any where else. I hear of such a thing as the cares of this world , and I read of them, but I know them not. My income is ready for me on so many stated days; and all I have to do is, to count and carry it home. The grand article of my expense is food, and this, too, is provided without any care of mine. I have nothing to do, but at such an hour to take and eat what is prepared for me. My laundress, barber, &c, are always ready at quarter-day, so I have no trouble on account of those expenses. And for what I occasionally need, I can be supplied from time to time without any expense of thought. Now, to convince me what a help to holiness this is, (were not my experience abundantly sufficient,) I should need no better authority than St. Paul’s : 4 I would have you be without carefulness. This I speak for your own profit , that ye may attend upon the Lord without distraction. Happy is he that careth only for the things of the Lord , how he may please the Lord . 9 He may be holy both in body and spirit, after the Apostle’s judgment; and I think that he had the Spirit of God. 44 11th. To quicken me in making a thankful and diligent use of all the other advantages of this place, I have the opportunity of public prayer twice a day, and of weekly communicating. It would be easy to mention many more, and likewise to show many disadvantages, which a person of greater courage and skill than me, could scarce separate from a country life. But whatever one of experience and resolution might do, I am very sensible I should not be able to turn aside one of the thousand temptations that would immediately rush upon me. I could not stand my ground, no not for one month, against intemperance in sleeping, eating, and drinking; against irregularity in study; against a general lukewarmness in my affections, and remissness in my actions; against softness and self-indulgence, directly opposite to that discipline and hardship which become a soldier of Jesus Christ. And then, when my spirit was thus dissolved, I should be an easy prey to whatever impertinent company came in my way. Then would the cares of the world, and the desire of other things, roll back with a full tide upon me. It would be no wonder, if, while I preached to others , I myself should be a castaway. I cannot therefore but observe, that the question does not relate barely to degrees of perfection, but to the very essence and being of it. Agitur de vita et sanguine Tumi.* The point is, whether I shall, or shall not, work out my salvation, whether I shall serve Christ or Belial. 44 12. What still heightens my fear of this untried state, is, that when I am once entered into it, be the inconveniences of it found more or less— vestigia nulla retrorsum — 4 when I am there, there I must stay.’ If this way of life should ever prove less advantageous, I have almost continual opportunities of quitting it; but whatever difficulties occur in that, whether foreseen or unforeseen, there is no returning, any more than from the grave. When I have once launched out into that unknown * “ Mv life, my blood is at stake!” THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. sea, there is no recovering my harbour; I must on, among whatever whirlpools, or rocks, or sands, though all* the waves and storms go over me. “ 13th. Thus much as to myself. But you justly observe, that we are not to consider ourselves alone ; since God made us all for a social life, to which academical studies are only preparatory. I allow, too, that he will take an exact account of every talent; which he has lent us, not to bury them, but to employ every mite we have received, in diffu¬ sing holiness all around us. I cannot deny, that every follower of Christ is, in his proportion, the light of the world ; but whoever is such can no more be concealed than the sun in the midst of heaven ; that, being set as a light in a dark place, his shining out must be the more conspicuous; that, to this very end was his light given, that it might shine at least to all that look towards him; and, indeed, that there is one only way of hiding it, which is, to put it out. Neither can I deny, that it is the indispensible duty of every Christian to impart both light and heat to all who are willing to receive it. 1 am obliged likewise, unless I lie against the truth, to grant, that there is not so contemptible an animal upon earth, as one that drones away life, without ever labouring to promote the glory of God, and the good of men; and that, whether he be young or old, learned or unlearned, in a college or out of it. Yet, granting the superlative degree of contempt to be on all accounts due to a college- drone ; a wretch that hath received ten talents, and yet employs none : that is not only promised a reward by his gracious Master, but is paid beforehand for his work by his generous Founder, and yet works not at all; allowing all this, and whatever else can be said, (for I own it is impossible to say enough,) against the drowsy ingratitude,, the lazy perjury, of those who are commonly called harmless or good sort of men, (a fair proportion of whom, I must to our shame confess, are to be found in colleges,) allowing this, I say, I do not apprehend it will conclude against a college life in general. For the abuse of it does not destroy the use: though there are some here who are the lumber of the creation, it does not follow, that others may not be of more service to the world in this station, than they could in any other. “ 14th. That I in particular could, might, it seems, be inferred from what has been proved already, viz. That I could be holier here myself than any where else, if I faithfully used the blessings I enjoy; for to prove, th^t the holier any man is himself, the more shall he promote holiness in others, there needs no more than this one postulatum , ‘ The help which is done on earth, God does it himself.’ If so, if God be the sole agent in healing souls, and man only the instrument in his hand, there can no doubt be made, but that the more holy a man is, he will make use of him the more : because he is more willing to be so used ; because the more pure he is, he is the fitter instrument for the God of purity; because he will pray more, and more earnestly, that he may be employed, and that his service may tend to his Master’s glory; because all his prayers, both for employment, and success therein, will the more surely pierce the clouds; because the more his heart is enlarged, the wider sphere he may act in without carefulness or distraction; and, lastly, because the more his heart is renewed in the image of God, the more God can renew it in others by him, without destroying him by pride or vanity. 130 THE LIFE OF “ 15th. But for the proof of every one of these weighty truths, expe¬ rience is worth a thousand reasons. I see, I feel them every day. Sometimes I cannot do good to others, because I am unwilling to do it; shame or pain is in the way ; and I do not desire to serve God at so dear a rate. Sometimes 1 cannot do the good I desire to do, because I am in other respects too unholy. I know within myself, were I fit to be so employed, God would employ me in this work. But my heart is too unclean for such mighty works to be wrought by my hands. Some¬ times I cannot accomplish the good 1 am employed in, because I do not pray more, and more fervently: and sometimes even when I do pray, and that instantly, because I am not worthy that my prayer should be heard. Sometimes I dare not attempt to assist my neighbour, because I know the narrowness of my heart, that it cannot attend to many things, without utter confusion, and dissipation of thought. And a thousand times have I been mercifully withheld from success in the things I have attempted; because were one so proud and vain enabled to gain others, he would lose his own soul. “ 16th. From all this I conclude, that where I am most holy myself, there I could most promote holiness in others ; and consequently, that I could more promote it here, than in any place under heaven. But I have likewise other reasons besides this to think so; and the first is the plenteousness of the harvest. Here is indeed a large scene of various action. Here is room for charity in all its forms. There is scarce any way of doing good to our fellow creatures, for which here is not daily occasion. I can now only touch upon the several heads. Here are poor families to be relieved; here are children to be educated; here are .workhouses, wherein both young and old want, and gladly receive, the word of exhortation; here are prisons to be visited, wherein alone is a complication of all human wants; and lastly, here are the schools of the prophets ; here are tender minds to be formed and strengthened, and babes in Christ to be instructed, and perfected in all useful learning. Of these in particular we must observe, that he who gains only one, does thereby as much service to the world as he could do in a parish in his whole life, for his name is Legion; in him are contained all those who shall be converted by him. He is not a single drop of the dew of heaven ; but ‘ a river to make glad the city of God.* u 17th. But Epworth is yet a larger sphere of action than this ; there I should have the care of two thousand souls. Two thousand souls ! I see not how any man* living can take care of a hundred.* At least, I could not; I know too well quid valeant humeri .j* Because the weight I have already upon me is almost more than I am able to bear, ought I to increase it ten fold ? -Imponere Pelio Ossara Scilicet, atque Osse frondosum involvere Olympian Would this be the way to help either myself or my brethren up to heaven ? Nay, but the mountains I reared would only crush my own soul, and so make me utterly useless to others. “ 18th. I need not but just glance upon several other reasons, why I am more likely to be useful here than any where else. As, because * How greatly did God enlarge hjs heart, as well as his labours, in process of time. t How much I can bear. t To heap mountains upon mountains, like the fabled giants, in order to scale Heaven. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 131 I have the joint advice of many friends in any difficulty, and their joint encouragement in any dangers : because the good Bishop and Vice Chancellor are at hand to supply (as need is) their want of experience : because we have the eyes of multitudes upon us, who, even without designing it, perform the most substantial office of friendship, apprising us where we have already fallen, and guarding us from falling again : lastly, because we have here a constant fund, (which I believe this year will amount to near eighty pounds,) to supply the bodily wants of the poor, and thereby prepare their souls to receive instruction. “ 19th. If it be said, that the love of the people at Epworth balances all these advantages here; I ask, how long it will last ? Only till I come to tell them plainly that their deeds are evil, and to make a parti¬ cular application of that general sentence, to say to each, 1 Thou art the man! ’ Alas, sir, do I not know, what love they had for you at first ? And how have they used you since ? Why, just as every one will be used, whose business it is to bring light to them that love to sit in darkness. “ 20th. Notwithstanding, therefore, their present prejudice in my favour, I cannot quit my first conclusion, that I am not likely to do that good any where, not even at Epworth, which I may do at Oxford. And yet one terrible objection lies in the way: 1 Have you found it so in fact? What have you done there in so many years? Nay, have not the very attempts to do good, for want either of a particular turn of mind for the business you engaged in, or of prudence to direct you in the right method of doing it, not only been unsuccessful, but brought such contempt upon you, as has in great measure disqualified you for any future success ? And are there not men in Oxford who are not only better and holier than you, but who have preserved their reputa¬ tion, who, being universally esteemed, are every way fitter to promote the glory of God in that place V ‘‘21st. I am not careful to answer in this matter. It is not my part to say whether God has done any good by my hands ; whether I have a particular turn of mind for this or not; or whether the want of success, in my past attempts, was owing to want of prudence, to ignorance of the right method of acting, or to some other cause. But the latter part of the objection, 4 that he who is despised can do no good, that without reputation a man cannot be useful in the world,’ being the strong-hold of all the unbelieving, the vainglorious, and the cowardly Christians, (so called,) I will, by the grace of God, see what reason that has, thus continually, to exalt itself against the knowledge of Christ. 44 22d. With regard to eontempt then, (under which term I include all the passions that border upon it, as hatred, envy, &c, and all the fruits that flow from them, such as calumny, reproach, and persecution in any of its forms,) my first position, in defiance of worldly wisdom, is this, 4 Every true Christian is contemned wherever he lives, by all who are not so, and who know him to be such, i. e. in effect, by all with whom he converses; since it is impossible for light not to shine.’ This position I prove both from the example of our Lord, and from his express assertions. First. From his example : If the disciple is not above his Master, nor the servant above his Lord, then, as our Master was despised and rejected of men, so will every one of his true disciples. But the disciple is not above his Master, and therefore the consequence 132 THE LIFE OF will not fail him a hair’s breadth. Secondly. From his own express assertions of this consequence. 4 If they have called the master of the house Beelzebub, how much more them of his household V Matthew x, 25. Remember (ye that would fain forget or evade it) the word that I said unto you , The servant is not greater than his Lord. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you. 1 And as for that vain hope, that this belongs only to the first followers of Christ, hear ye him! 4 AU these things will they do to you , because they know not Him that sent me. 1 And again, 4 Because ye are not of the world , therefore the world hateth you. 1 John xvi, 20. Both the persons who are hated, and the persons who hate them, and the cause of their hating iffiTerm, are here clearly determined. The hated are all that are not of this world, that are bom again in the knowledge and love of God; the haters are all that are of this world, that know not God, so as to love him with alb their strength ; the cause of their hatred is, the entire irreconcilable differences between their desires, judgments, and affections; because these know not God, and those are determined to know and pursue nothing besides Him; because these ,esteem and love the world, and those count it dung and dross, and singly desire that love of Christ. 44 23d. My next position is this, 4 Until he be thus contemned, rto man is in a state of salvation.’ And this is no more than a plain infer¬ ence from the former: for if all that are not of the world are therefore contemned by those that are, then till a man is so contemned, he is of the world, i. e. out of a state of salvation. Nor is it possible for all the trimmers between God and the world, for all the dodgers in religion, to elude this consequence, which God has established, and not man, unless they could prove that a man may be of the world, i. e. void both of the knowledge and love of God, and yet be in a state of salvation. I must therefore, with or without leave of these, keep close to my Saviour’s judgment, and maintain, that contempt is a part of that cross which every man must bear if he will follow him ; that it is the badge of his discipleship, the stamp of his profession, the constant seal of his calling; insomuch that, though a man may be despised without being saved, yet he cannot be saved without being despised. 44 24th. I should not spend any more words about this great truth, but that it seems at present quite voted out of the world ; the masters in Israel, learned men, men of renown, seem absolutely to have forgotten it; nay, censure those who have not forgotten the words of their Lord, as setters forth of strange doctrines. And hence it is commonly asked, 4 How can these things be V How can contempt be necessary to salva¬ tion? I answer,—as it is a necessary means of purifying souls for heaven; as it is a blessed instrument of cleansing them from pride, which el-se would turn their very graces into poison; as it is a glorious antidote against vanity, which would otherwise pollute and destroy all their labours ;*as it is an excellent medicine to heal the anger and impa¬ tience of spirit, apt to insinuate into their best employments ; and in a word, as it is one of the choicest remedies in the whole magazine of God against love of the world, in which whosoever liveth is counted dead before him. 44 25th. And hence (as a full answer to the preceding objection) I infer one position more. 4 That our being contemned is absolutely necessary to our doing good in the world.’ If not to our doing some THE REV. JOHN WESLEV. 133 good, (for God may work by Judas,) yet to our doing so much as we otherwise should. For since God will employ those instruments most, who are fittest to be employed; since the holier a man is, the fitter in¬ strument he is for the God of holiness ; and since contempt is so glo¬ rious a means of advancing holiness in him that is exercised thereby, nay, since no man can be holy at all without it;—who can keep off the consequence, that the being contemned is absolutely necessary to a Christian’s doing his full measure of good in the world 1 4 Where then is the scribe ? Where is the wise ? Where is the disputer of this world V Where is the replier against God, with his sage maxiiyis ? 4 He that is despised can do no good in the world ; to be useful, a man must be es¬ teemed ; to advance the glory of God, you must have a fair reputation.’ Saith the world so 1 But what saith the Scripture ? Why, that God hath laughed all this heathen wisdom to scorn. It saith that twelve despised followers of a despised Master, all of whom were of no reputation, who were esteemed as the filth and offscouring of the world, did more good in it than all the tribes of Israel. It saith, that the despised Mas¬ ter of these despised followers left a standing direction to us, and to our children, 4 Blessed are ye, (not accursed with the heavy curse of doing no good, of being useless in the world,) when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil of you falsely for my name’s sake . Rejoice, and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven .’ 44 2 6th. These are part of my reasons for choosing to abide (till I am better informed) in the station wherein God has placed me. As for the flock committed to your care, whom for many years you have diligently fed with the sincere milk of the word, I trust in God your labour shall not be in vain, either to yourself or them. Many of them the Great Shepherd has by your hand delivered from the hand of the destroyer, some of whom are already entered into peace, and some remain unto this day. For yourself, I doubt not, but when your warfare is accom¬ plished, when you are made perfect through sufferings, you shall come to your grave, not with sorrow, but as a ripe shock of corn, full of years and victories. And he that took care of the poor sheep before you was born, will not forget them when you are dead.” Mr. Wesley having sent a copy of this letter to his brother Samuel, he replied to'it, February 8, 1735. He tells him, 44 Charles was in the right, to desire I might have your whole letter : Though you have stated the point, so as to take away the question, at least all possibility of dif¬ fering about it, if it be only this, whether you are to serve Christ or Belial ? I see no end of writing now, but merely complying with your desire of having my thoughts upon it; which I here give in short, and I think almost in full, though I pass over strictures on less matters. 44 1. Your friends, retirement, frequent ordinances, and freedom from care, are great blessings. All, except the last, you may expect, in a lower degree, elsewhere. Sure, all your labours are not come to this, that more is absolutely necessary for you, for the very being of your Christian life, than for the salvation of all the parish priests in England. It is very strange ! “ 2. To the question, 4 What good have you done at Oxford V you are not careful to answer : How comes it then you are so very careful Vol. i, 38 13,4 THE LIFE OF* about the good you might do at Epworth ? The help that is done m earth , He doth it himself \ is a full solution of that terrible difficulty. 44 3. The impossibility of return, the certainty of being disliked by them that now cry you up, and the small comparative good my father has done, are good prudential reasons ; but, I think, can hardly extend to conscience. 4 You can leave Oxford when you willNot surely to such advantage. 4 You have a probability of doing good there :’ Will that good be wholly undone if you leave it 1 Why should you not leaven another lump ? 44 4. What you say of contempt is nothing to the purpose ; for if you will go to Epworth, I will answer for it, you shall in a competent time, be despised as much as your heart can wish. In your doctrine, you argue from a particular to a general. 4 To be useful, a man must be esteemed,’ is as certain as any proposition in Euclid; and I defy all mankind to produce one instance of directly doing spiritual good without it, in the whole book of God.* 44 5. 4 God who provided for the flock before, will do it after, my father.’ May He not suffer them to be, what they once were, almost heathens 1 And may not that be prevented by your ministry ? It could never enter into my head, that you could refuse on any other ground than a general resolution against the cure of souls. I shall give no positive reason for it, till my first is answered. The order of the Church stakes you down, and, the more you struggle, will hold the faster. If there be such a thing as truth, I insist upon it you must, when opportunity offers, either perform that promise, or repent of it: Utrum mavis ?”f To this letter Mr. John Wesley replied on the 13th of the same month. 44 Neither you nor I,” says he, 44 have any time to spare ; so I must be short as I can. 44 There are two questions between us, one relating to being good, the other to doing good. With regard to the former: 1. You allow, I enjoy more of friends, retirement, freedom from care, and Divine ordi¬ nances, than I could do elsewhere ; and I add, (l) I feel all this to be but just enough. (2)1 have always found less than this to be too little for me; and therefore, (3) Whatever others do, I could not throw up any part of it, without manifest hazard to my salvation. 44 2. As to the latter, I am not careful to answer, 4 What good I have done at Oxford ;’ because I cannot think of it without the utmost danger. I am careful what good I may do at Epworth, (1) Because I can think of it without any danger at all; (2) Because I cannot, as matters now stand, avoid thinking of it without sin. 44 3. Another can supply my place at Epworth, better than at Oxford; and the good done here, is of a far more diffusive nature. It is a more extensive benefit to sweeten the fountain than to do the same to particu¬ lar streams. 44 4. To the objection, 4 You are despised at Oxford, therefore you can do no good there I answer, (1) A Christian will be despised any where.—(2) No one is a Christian till he is despised.—(3) His being despised will not hinder his doing good, but much further it, by making * This is true in part. A minister of Christ will, yea must be esteemed by those who receive ‘ the truth in the love of it,' by his instrumentality. But it is as certain, that he will be despised by those who do not so receive it. - v 'Wnich do you prefer? THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 135 him a better Christian. Without contradicting any of these propositions, I allow', that every one to whom you do good directly, must esteem you, first or last.—N. B. A man may despise you for one thing, hate you for another, and envy you for a third. « 5. 4 God may suffer Epworth to be worse than before. But I may not attempt to prevent it, with so great hazard to my own soul. Your last argument is either ignoratio elenchi ,* or implies these two proposi¬ tions : 4 (1) You resolve against any parochial cure of souls.—(2) The Priest who does not undertake the first parochial cure that offers, is per¬ jured.’—Let us add a third : ‘The Tutor who, being in Orders, never accepts of a parish, is perjured and then I deny all three.” This letter Mr. Samuel Wesley answered thus, paragraph by para¬ graph.— 44 1. You say, you have but just enough. Had ever any man on earth more ?— 4 You have experienced less to be insufficient.’ Not in the course of the priesthood to which you are called. In that way, I am persuaded, though 4 he that gathereth much can have nothing over ,’ yet 4 he that gathereth little , can have no lack.’ —2. 4 There is danger in thinking of the good you have done, but not of what you may do.’ Vain¬ glory lies both ways :— 4 But the latter was your duty.’ So was the former; without you can compare two things without thinking of one of them.—3. 4 The good done at Oxford is more diffusive.’ It is not that good you have promised. You deceive yourself, if you imagine you do not here think of u'hat you have done. — 4 Your want may be better sup¬ plied at Epworth ;’ not if my father is right in his successions.—4. 4 A Christian will be despised every where ; no one is a Christian till he is so ; it will further his doing good.’ If universal propositions, I deny them all. Esteem goes before the good done, as well as follows it.— 4 A man may both despise and envy.’ True ; he may have a hot and a cold fit of an ague. Contempt in general, is no more incompatible with, than necessary to, benefiting others.—5. See the first and third.—6. I said plainly, I thought you had made a general resolution : As to taking the first offer, I supposed the opportunity a proper one ; and declare now my judgment, should you live never so long, in the ordinary course of Providence, you can never meet another so proper. — 4 An ordained Tu¬ tor, who accepts not a cure, is perjured;’ alter the term into, 4 Who resolves not to accept;’ and I will maintain it, unless you prove either of these two : (1) 4 There is no such obligation at taking Orders.’ (2) 4 This obligation is dispensed with.’ Both which I utterly deny.” Mr. John Wesley now thought it time to close the debate. His letter is dated the 4th of March. He observes to his brother, 44 1 had rather dispute with you, if I must dispute, than with any man living ; because it may be done with so little expense of time and words. The question is now brought to one point, and the whole argument will lie in one single syllogism. 4 Neither hope of doing greater good, nor fear of any evil, ought to deter you from what you have engaged yourself to do : but you have engaged yourself to undertake the cure of a parish : Therefore, neither that hope nor that fear ought to deter you from it.’ The only doubt which remains is, whether I have so engaged myself or not? You think I did at my ordination, 4 before God and his Highpriest.’ I think, I did not. However, I own I am not the proper judge of the oath I then .took: it being certain, andallowedby all, 4 Verbis,in qua quis jurejurando * Mistaking the question. 136 THE LIFE OF adigiiur , sensum genuinum , ut et obligationi Sacramenti modum ac men - suram , prccstitui a mente non prccstantis sed exigentis juramentum .— * That the true sense of the words of an oath, and the mode and extent of its obligation, are not to be determined by him who takes it, but by him who requires it.’ Therefore it is not I, but the Highpriest of God, before whom I contracted that engagement, who is to judge of the nature and extent of it. “ Accordingly, the post after I received yours, I referred it entirely to him, proposing this single question to him, Whether I had, at my ordination, engaged myself to undertake the cure of a parish or no 1 His answer runs in these words : 1 It doth not seem to me, that at your ordination you engaged yourself to undertake the cure of any parish, provided you can, as a clergyman, better serve God and his church in your present or some other station.’—Now that I can, as a clergyman, better serve God and his Church in my present station, I have all rea¬ sonable evidence.” The late Dr. Priestley, upon a view of Mr. John Wesley’s refusal to apply for the living of Epworth, and of his invincible resolution in every thing which appeared to him to concern religion, has declared, “ he wanted only rational principles of religion, to be one of the first of human characters.” Had he had only what the Doctor calls rational prin¬ ciples of religion , he might have gone the usual rounds of parochial duty at Epworth, and, it may be, might have succeeded to what is termed a better living. But, however he might in that case have been admired as a scholar and a man, he certainly never would have been ranked with the Reformers or Apostles-; nor would the present, not to say “ future generations, rise up,” as the Doctor says they will, “ and call him blessed.” CHAPTER III. mr. wesley’s mission to America, in which he was accompanied BY HIS BROTHER CHARLES. In the midst of the debate described in the last Chapter, Mr. Wesley wrote to his mother, without taking the least notice of it; nor do I find that she wrote to him on that subject. She had approved of her eldest son’s refusal to apply for the living, as we shall see hereafter, and could not therefore join in pressing it on her second son. His letter is on the subject of Christian Liberty, concerning which he wished to have his mother’s opinion. He says, “ I have had a great deal of conversa¬ tion lately on the subject of Christian Liberty, and should be glad of your thoughts, as to the several notions of it which good men entertain. I perceive different persons take it in at least six different senses.—1. For liberty from wilful sin in opposition to the bondage of natural corrup¬ tion.—2. For liberty as to rites and points of discipline. So Mr. Whis- ton says, ‘ Though the stations were instituted by the Apostles, yet the liberty of the Christian law dispenses with them on extraordinary occa¬ sions.’—3. For liberty from denying ourselves in little things; for trifles, THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 137 it is commonly thought, we may indulge in safely, because Christ has made us free. This notion, I a little doubt, is not sound.—4. For liberty from fear, or a filial freedom from fear on account of his past sins ; for he believes in Christ, and hope frees him from fear of losing his present labour, or of being a castaway hereafter.—5. Christian Liberty is taken by some, for a freedom from restraint, as to sleep or food. So they would say, your drinking but one glass of wine, or my rising at a fixed hour, was contrary to Christian Liberty.—Lastly, it is taken for freedom from rules : If by this be meant, making our rules yield to extraordinary occasions, well; if the having no rules at all, this liberty is as yet too high for me ; I cannot attain unto it.” Mr. Wesley had now separated himself from all the world, and of course was intent on “ the wisdom from above .” His speculations are remarkable for brevity, order, and clearness,—a consequence of that 61 single eye” which he possessed. But the promise made to all such inquirers, was not yet fulfilled in the evangelical sense. He did not yet feel his need of it, but was making the best use of the old stock. Christian Liberty has been much treated of, and often by those who were ignorant of its whole nature. In the last century, a Jesuit wrote largely upon it, professing to solve doubts, and give relief to afflicted conscien¬ ces. The whole of his discourse may be judged of by one particular: If any person doubted whether any action amounted to mortal sin, and his Confessor could not give him satisfaction, he was to consult four Doctors of Divinity. If they should agree, that it did not amount thereto, he might dismiss all fear! A witty writer replied, and entitled his answer, “ The Art of Chicanery with respect to God —that is, the Art of outwitting God! Mr. Wesley was happily free from those depths of Satan: but he was not yet competent to discuss the subject of Chris¬ tian Liberty: For 1. He was not then justified, —consequently not free from the guilt of sin. He could not therefore judge of the “ glorious liberty of the children of God” which he ably stated afterwards in several of his sermons.—2. He had no clear conception of that “ unction of the Holy One,” whereby we are to “ knov) all things” necessary for out¬ walk with God.—“ Walk in the Spirit ,” —and “ Walk in the light , as He is in the light,” were precepts as yet too high for him. He had not passed the “ strait gate,” and could scarcely estimate the privileges of the “ narrow way,” But the day of liberty drew near,—liberty from the guilt, the power, and the nature of sin ; liberty to do the whole will of Him that called him, without the shackles of unnecessary scruples, or unprofitable reasonings. ( Mr. Wesley’s father died in April, 1735, and the living of Epworth was given away in May; so that he now considered himself as settled at Oxford, without any risk of being farther molested in his quiet retreat. But a new scene of action was soon proposed to him, of which he had not before the least conception. The trustees of the new colony of Georgia were greatly in want of proper persons to send thither, to preach the Gospel, not only to the colony, but to the Indians. They fixed their eyes upon Mr. John Wesley and some of his friends, as the most proper persons, on account of the regularity of their behaviour, their ab¬ stemious way of living, and their readiness to endure hardships. On the 28th of August, being in London, he met with his friend Dr. Burton, for whom he had a great esteem ; and the next day was introduced to 138 THE LIFE OF Mr. Oglethorpe, where the matter was proposed to him, and strongly urged upon him by such arguments as they thought most likely to dis¬ pose his mind to accept of the proposal. It does not appear, that Mr. Wesley gave them any positive answer. He thought it best to take the opinion of his friends. Accordingly he wrote to his brother Samuel, and visited Mr. Law, and in three or four days, set out for Manchester, to consult Mr. Clayton, Mr. Byrom, and several others whose judgment he respected. From thence he went to Epworth, and laid the matter before his mother. Her answer, as he related it to me, was worthy of the mother and the son : “ Had I twenty sons, I should rejoice that they were all so employed, though I should never see them more.” His eldest sister also consented to his acceptance of the proposal. His bro¬ ther Samuel did the same. Mr. Wesley still hesitated ; and on the 8th of September, Dr. Burton wrote to him, pressing him to a compliance. His letter is directed to Manchester, and franked by Mr. Oglethorpe. 44 September 8, 1735. C. C. C. Oxon. 44 Dear Sir, —I had it in commission to wait upon you at Oxford, whither by this time I imagined you might be arrived. Your short confer¬ ence with Mr. Oglethorpe has raised the hopes of many good persons, that you and yours would join in an undertaking, w 7 hich cannot be better ex¬ ecuted than by such instruments. I have thought again of the matter, and upon the result of the whole, cannot help again recommending the un¬ dertaking to your choice : and the more so, since in our inquiries, there appears such an unfitness in the generality of people. That state of ease, luxury, levity, and inadvertency, observable in most of the plausi¬ ble and popular Doctors, are disqualifications in a Christian teacher, and would lead us to look for a different set of people. The more men are inured to contempt of ornaments and conveniences of life, to serious thoughts and bodily austerities, the fitter they are for a state which more properly represents our Christian pilgrimage. And if, upon considera¬ tion of the matter, you think yourselves (as you must do, at least amidst such a scarcity of proper persons) the fit instruments for so good a work, you will be ready to embrace this opportunity of doing good ; which is not in vain offered to you.—Be pleased to write a line signifying your thoughts to me, or Mr. Oglethorpe ; and if by advice I can be assisting to you, you may command my best, best services. 44 Yours affectionately, 44 JOHN BURTON. 44 P. S. Mr. Horn telling me, he heard you were at Manchester, I presume you are with Mr. Clayton, deliberating about this affair.” Mr. Wesley now consented to go to Georgia, and Dr. Burton wrote to him again on the 18th of the same month, as follows : 44 It was with no small pleasure, that I heard your resolution on the point under con¬ sideration. I am persuaded, that an opportunity is offered of doing much good in an affair, for the conducting of which we can find but fe w proper instruments. Your undertaking adds greater credit to our proceedings ; and the propagation of religion will be the distinguishing honour of our colony. This has ever in like cases, been the desideratum : a defect seemingly lamented, but scarce ever remedied. With greater satisfac¬ tion, therefore, we enjoy your readiness to undertake the work. When THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 139 it is known that good men are thus employed, the pious and charitable will be the more encouraged to promote the work. You have too much steadiness of mind, to be disturbed by the light scoffs of the idle and profane. Let me put a matter to be considered by your brother Charles . Would it not be more advisable that he were in Orders V* On the 28 th of the same month, a few days before Mr. Oglethorpe in¬ tended to sail, Dr. Burton wrote again to Mr. Wesley, giving him advice on several points respecting his future situation. Among other things he observes,—“ Under the influence of Mr. Oglethorpe, giving weight to your endeavours, much may be effected under the present circum¬ stances. The apostolical manner of preaching from house to house, will, through God’s grace, be effectual to turn many to righteousness. The people are babes in the progress of their Christian life, to be fed with milk instead of strong meat; and the wise householder will bring, out of his stores, food proportioned to the necessities of his family. The circumstances of your present Christian pilgrimage will furnish the most affecting subjects of discourse ; and what arises pro re natti , will have greater influence than a laboured discourse on a subject in which men think themselves not so immediately concerned. With regard to your beha¬ viour and manner of address, that must be determined according to the different circumstances of persons, &c. But you will always in the use of means, consider the great end, and therefore your applications will of course vary. You will keep in view the pattern of that Gospel preacher St. Paul, who became all things to all men, that he might gain some. Here is a nice trial of Christian prudence : Accordingly, in every case you would distinguish between what is essential, and what is merely cir¬ cumstantial to Christianity ; between what is indispensible, and what is variable ; between what is of Divine and what is of human authority. I mention this, because men are apt to deceive themselves in such cases, and we see the traditions and ordinances of men frequently insisted on with more rigour than the commandments of God, to which they are subordinate. Singularities of less importance are often espoused with more zeal, than the weighty matters of God’s law. As in all points we love ourselves, so especially in our hypotheses. TVhere a man has, as it were, a property in a notion, he is most industrious to improve it, and that in proportion to the labour of thought he has bestowed upon it; and as its value rises in imagination, we are in proportion more unwilling to give it up, and dwell upon it more pertinaciously, than upon considera¬ tions of general necessity and use. This is a flattering mistake, against which we should guard ourselves. I hope to see you at Gravesend, if possible. I write in haste what occurs to my thoughts :— disce , docendus adhuc , quce censei amiculus .* May God prosper your endeavours for the propagation of his Gospel!” Mr. Charles Wesley at this time resided at Oxford, and when his bro¬ ther consented to Dr. Burton’s proposal, he also declared his willingness to accompany him in this new and untried path, which promised nothing except what they ardently desired,—a more complete deliverance from the world. This design, respecting Charles, his brother Samuel vehe¬ mently opposed, but in vain. Mr. Charles engaged himself as secretaiy to Mr. Oglethorpe, and also as secretary for Indian affairs. A little before they left England, Dr. Burton suggested, as the reader will have * “ Yet bear what thy unskilful friend can say.” Creech. 140 THE LIFE OF seen, that it might be well if Mr. Charles Wesley were also ordained before he left this country. Mr. John Wesley overruled his brother’s inclination in this thing also, and he was ordained Deacon by Dr. Potter, Bishop of Oxford; and the Sunday following, Priest by Dr. Gibson, Bishop of London.* Mr. Wesley now prepared for his voyage to America. While he was abroad, Mr. Gambold,f who had been intimately acquainted with him at Oxford, wrote some account of his proceedings there, and endeavoured to delineate his character. He sent it to one of Mr. Wesley’s relations ; and I shall conclude this chapter with the following abstract from it. It properly closes the account of the academical career of the two brothers. 44 About the middle of March, 1730, I became acquainted with Mr. Charles Wesley, of Christ Church. I had been for two years before in deep melancholy ;— so it pleased God to disappoint and break a proud spirit, and to embitter the world to me as I was inclining to relish its vanities. During this time, I had no friend to whom I could open my mind ; no man did care for my soul, or none at least understood her paths. The learned endeavoured to give me right notions, and the friendly to divert me. One day an old acquaintance entertained me with some reflections on the whimsical Mr. Charles Wesley; his preciseness, and pious extravagancies. Upon hearing this, I suspected he might be a good Christian. I therefore went to his room, and without cere¬ mony desired the benefit of his conversation. I had so large a share of it afterwards, that hardly a day passed, while I was at College, but we were together once, if not oftener. 44 After some time he introduced me to his brother John, of Lincoln College : 4 For he is somewhat older,’ said he, 4 than I am, and can resolve your doubts better.’ I never observed any person have a more real deference for another, than he had for his brother; which is the more remarkable, because such near relations, being equals by birth, and conscious to each other of all the little familiar passages of their lives, commonly stand too close to see the ground there may be for such sub¬ mission. Indeed he followed his brother entirely; could I describe one of them I should describe both. I shall therefore say no more of Charles, but that he was a man formed for friendship ; who by his cheerfulness and vivacity would refresh his friend’s heart: With attentive considera¬ tion, he would enter into, and settle all his concerns as far as he was able: He would do any thing for him, great or small, and, by a habit of mutual openness and freedom, would leave no room for misunder¬ standing. 44 The Wesleys were already talked of for some religious practices, which were first occasioned by Mr. Morgan of Christ Church. He was a young man of an excellent disposition. He took all opportunities to make his companions in love with a good life ; to create in them a reverence for the public worship ; to tell them of their faults with a sweetness and simplicity that disarmed the worst tempers. He delight¬ ed much in works of charity; he kept several children at school; and, when he found beggars in the street, would bring them into his * Mr. C. Wesley’s letter to Dr. Chandler. | After some years, Mr. Gambold left the Church of England, joined the Moravians, merely, as he had stated, for the benefit of retirement and Christian friendship, and became one of their bishops. the rev. John wesley. 141 chambers, and talk to them. From these combined friends began a little society. Mr. John Wesley was the chief manager, for which he was very fit; for he had not only more learning and experience than the rest, but he was blest with such activity as to be always gaining ground, and such steadiness that he lost none. What proposals he made to any, were sure to alarm them, because he was so much in earnest; nor could they afterwards slight them, because they saw him always the same. What supported this uniform vigour was, the care he took to consider well every affair before he engaged in it; making all his de«- cisions in the fear of God, without passion, humour, or self-confidence. For though he had naturally a very clear apprehension, yet his exact prudence depended more on his humility and singleness of heart. He had, I think, something of authority in his countenance, yet he never assumed any thing to himself above his companions ; any of them might speak their mind, and their words were as strictly regarded by him as his words were by them. “ Their undertaking included these several particulars : To converse with young students ; to visit the prisons ; to instruct some poor fami¬ lies ; to take care of a school and a parish workhouse. They took great pains with the younger members of the University, to rescue them from bad company, and encourage them in a sober studious life. They would get them to breakfast, and over a dish of tea endeavour to fasten some good hint upon them. They would bring them acquainted with other well-disposed young men, give them assistance in the difficult parts of their learning, and watch over them with the greatest tenderness. “ Some or other of them went to the Castle every day, and another most commonly to Bocardo. Whoever went to the Castle, was to read in the chapel to as many prisoners as would attend, and to talk apart to the man or men whom he had taken particularly in charge. When a new prisoner came, their conversation with him for four or five times was close and searching.—If any one was under sentence of death, or ap¬ peared to have some intentions of a new life, they came every day to his assistance, and partook in the conflict and suspense of those who should be found able or not able, to lay hold on salvation. In order to release those who were confined for small debts, and to purchase books and other necessaries, they raised a little fund, to which many of their acquaintance contributed quarterly. They had prayers at the Castle most Wednesdays and Fridays, a sermon on Sunday, and the sacrament once a month. “ When they undertook any poor family, they saw them at least once a week ; sometimes gave them money, admonished them of their vices, read to them, and examined their children. The school was, I think, of Mr. Wesley’s own setting up; however, he paid the mistress, and clothed some, if not all the children. When they went thither, they inquired how each child behaved, saw their work, heard them read and say their prayers, or catechism, and explained part of it. In the same manner they taught the children in the workhouse, and read to the old people as they did to the prisoners. “ They seldom took any notice of the accusations brought against them for their charitable employments ; but if they did make any reply, it was commonly such a plain and simple one, as if there was nothing Vol. I. 19 142 THE LIFE OF more in the case, but that they had just heard such doctrines of their Saviour, and had believed and done accordingly. Sometimes they would ask such questions as the following: 1 Shall we be more happy in another life, the more virtuous we are in this ? Are we the more virtuous, the more intensely we love God and man? Is love, of all habits, the more intense, the more we exercise it? Is either helping, or trying to help, man for God’s sake, an exercise of love to God or man ? Particu¬ larly, is feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick, or prisoners, an exercise of love to God or man ? Is endeavouring to teach the ignorant, to admonish sinners, to encourage the good, to comfort the afflicted, and reconcile enemies, an exercise of love to God or man ? Shall we be more happy in another life, if we do the former of these things, and try to do the latter; or if we do not the one, nor try to do the other ?’ “ I could say a great deal of his private piety; how it was nourished by a continual recourse to God ; and preserved by a strict watchfulness in beating down pride, and reducing the craftiness and impetuosity of nature to a child-like simplicity ; and in a good degree crowned with divine love, and victory over the whole set of earthly passions. He thought prayer to be more his business than any thing else ; and I have seen him come out of his closet with a serenity of countenance that was next to shining; it discovered what he had been doing, and gave me double hope of receiving wise directions, in the matter about which I came to consult him. In all his motions he attended to the will of God. He had neither the presumption, nor the leisure, to anticipate things whose season was not now ; and would show some uneasiness when¬ ever any of us, by impertinent speculations, were shifting off the appoint¬ ed improvement of the present minute. By being always cheerful, but never triumphing, he so husbanded the secret consolations which God gave him, that they seldom left him, and never but in a state of strong and long-suffering faith. Thus, the repose and satisfaction of the mind being otherwise secured, there was in him no idle cravings, no chagrin or fickleness of spirit, nothing but the genuine wants of the body to be relieved by outward accommodations and refreshments. When he was just come home from a long journey, and had been in different com¬ panies, he resumed his usual employments, as if he had never left them ; no dissipation of thought appeared, no alteration of taste; much less was he discomposed by any slanders or affronts ; he was only afraid lest he should grow proud of this conformity to his Master. In short, he used many endeavours to be religious, but none to seem so: With a zeal always upon the stretch, and a most transparent sincerity, he addicted himself to every good word and work. “ Because he required such a regulation of our studies, as might devote them all to God, he has been accused as one that discouraged learning. Far from that: For the first thing he struck at, in young men, was that indolence which will not submit to close thinking. He earn¬ estly recommended to them a method and order in all their actions. The morning hour of devotion was from five to six, and the same in the evening. On the point of early rising, he told them, the well-spending of the day would depend. For some years past, he and his friends have read the New Testament together in the evenings ; and after every poi> THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 143 tion of it, having heard the conjectures the rest had to offer, he made his own observations on the phrase, design, and difficult places; and one or two wrote these down from his mouth. “ If any one could have provoked him, I should ; for I was very slow in coming into their measures, and very remiss in doing my part. I fre¬ quently contradicted his assertions ; or, which is much the same, dis¬ tinguished upon them. I hardly ever submitted to his advice at the time he gave it, though I relented afterwards. One time he was in fear I had taken up notions that were not safe, and pursued my spiritual improve¬ ment in an erroneous, because inactive, way; so he came over and staid with me near a week. He condoled with me the encumbrances of my constitution, heard all I had to say, and endeavoured to pick out my meaning, and yielded to me as far as he could. I never saw more hu¬ mility in him than at this time. “ Mr. Wesley had not only friends at Oxford to assist him, but a great many correspondents. He set apart one day at least in the week, to write letters, (and he was no slow composer,) in which, without levity or affectation, but with plainness and fervour, he gave his advice in particular cases, and vindicated the strict original sense of the Gospel precepts. “ He is now gone to Georgia as a Missionary, where there is igno¬ rance that aspires after Divine wisdom, but no false learning that is got above it. He is, I confess, still living; and I know that an advantageous character is more decently bestowed on the deceased. But, besides that his condition is very like that of the dead, being unconcerned in all we say, I am not making any attempt on the opinion of the public, but only studying a private edification. A family picture of him, his rela¬ tions may be allowed to keep by them. And this is the idea of Mr. Wes¬ ley, which I cherish for the service of my own soul, and which I take the liberty likewise to deposite with you.” THE LIFE OP THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. BOOK THE THIRD. CHAPTER L HIS MISSION TO AB1ERICA. Mr. Hampson, in his Memoirs of Mr. Wesley, expresses no small surprise, when he comes to treat of his mission to Georgia, at what appears to him a strange and unaccountable change of mind in one who had just before evinced such unshaken firmness. introduce in their place such Christian authors as will work together'with you in building up your flock in the knowledge and love of God; for assure yourself, dear brother, you are even now called to the converting of heathen as well as I. “ So many souls [as you have pupils] are committed to your care by God, to be prepared for a happy eternity. You are to instruct them not only in the beggarly elements of Greek and Latin, but much more in the Gospel. You are to labour with all your might to convince them, that Christianity is not a negation, or an external thing, but a new heart,— a mind conformed to that of Christ; ‘ faith working by love.’ ” It should be noted that what Mr. Wesley here condemns is the read¬ ing and explaining of the Heathen poets indiscriminately ; but that he would not have condemned a selection from them, is evident from his having, at a subsequent period, made and published such a selection for his own school at Kingswood. Mr. Wesley was not singular in this opinion. Dr. Whitehead has well observed, “ The most learned and pious men in the Christian church, have, in ail ages, thus spoken before him. Nay, the heathen moralists themselves deliver the same senti¬ ments concerning their own poets. ‘ Plato banished the poets from his imaginary commonwealth, and did not think them proper to be put into the hands of youth without great precaution; to prevent the dangers which might arise from them. Cicero* approves of his conduct, and supposing with him, that poetry contributes only to the corruption of manners , to enervate the mind , and strengthen the false prejudices conse¬ quent on a bad education , and ill examples , he seems astonished that the instruction of children should begin with them , and the study of them be called by the name of learning and a liberal education.’”! * Videsne poetae quid mali afferant ?—Ita sunt dulces, ul non legantur modo, sed etiam ediscantur. Sic ad malam domesticam disciplinam, vitamque umbratilem et delicatam, cum accesserunt etiam poetae, nervos virtutis elidunt. Recte igitur a Platone educuntur ex ea civitate quam finxit ille, cum mores optimos et optitum reip. statum quaereret. At vero nos, docti scilicet a Graecia, haec et a pueritia legimus et didicimus. Hanc eruditionem libe- ralem et doctrinam putamus!—Tusc. Qusest. lib. ii. f.The Jews prohibited the tutors of their children from instructing them in pagan litera¬ ture. “Maledictus esto,” says the Gemara, “ quisque hlium suum sapientiam Graecanicam edocet.— Let him be accursed, whoever teaches his son Greek literature." The primitive Fathers of the church were divided in their opinions on this subject. Some forbade Chris¬ tians to read any of the Heathen writers, on account of their bad tendency, both as to prin¬ ciples and morals. The Apostolical Constitutions, as they are called, speak in this strain, “Ab omnibus Gentilium libris abstine.— Abstainfrom all books of the Gentiles. And though these Constitutions are not Apostolical , yet it is allowed, on all hands, that they are very ancient. Cotelerius in a note on "this passage, has shown the afferent sentiments of many of the Fathers; and it is probable that a majority of them were of opinion, the Heathen wri¬ ters might be read with advantage, under certain restrictions and regulations. Basil the great has an oration, showing, “Quomodo ex scriptis Gentilium utilitatem capere de^arnus.— How we ought to reap advantage from the writings of the Gentiles." The most learned and pious among the moderns have very universally condemned the practice of indiscriminately reading the writings of the Heathens. Op this subject Erasmus complains in one of his let¬ ters, “ Pro Christianis reddamur Pagani.— Instead of Christians we are made Pagans'' — And again, “Animadverto,” says he “juvenes aliquot, quos nobis remittit Italia, praecipue Roma, nonnihil adflatos hoc veneno.— I observe some youths , returned from Italy , especially from Rome , infected with this poison." —Buddtei Isagoge, par. i, p. 147. Ruddieus himself observes, after giving the opinions of several others, “ Singulari utique hie opus esse circurn- spectione, negari nequit; cum facile contingat, ut qui ethnicorum scriptis toti veluti immer- guntur, ethnicum, plane, alienuinque a religione Christiana, hide referant animum. It can¬ not be denied , that there is here need of singular circumspection , as it easily happens , that they who are, as it were, wholly immersed in the writings of the heathens, return from them with a heathenish mind, alienated from the Christian r eligion." Mr. Southey seems offended with Mr. Wesley’s expression,—“The beggarly elements of Greek and Latin :’V-But St. Paul uses the same words, even concerning the Ceremonial Law of Moses, when compared with the purity and power of the Gospel. Yol. I. * 20 150 THE LIFE OF On Tuesday, October 14, 1735, Mr. Wesley and his brother Charles set off from London for Gravesend, accompanied by Mr. Ingham, and Mr. Delamotte, in order to embark for Georgia. “ Our end,” says he “in leaving our native country, was, not to avoid want, (God having given us plenty of temporal blessings,) nor to gain the dung and dross of riches and honour; but singly this, to save our souls, to live wholly to the glory of God.” Accordingly the two following days, which they spent partly on board, and partly on shore,, they employed in exhorting one another “ to shake off every weight , and to run with patienee the race set before them!” There were six and twenty Germans on board, mem¬ bers of the Moravian Church. Mr. Wesley was much struck with their Christian deportment, and immediately set himself to learn the German language in order to converse with them. The Moravian Bishop also, and two others of his society, began to learn English, for the laudable purpose, there is reason to believe, of enjoying Christian fellowship with those who so manifestly appeared to be walking in the same way. Mr. Wesley now began to preach extempore , which afterward became his con¬ stant practice. They sometimes visited General Oglethorpe, who was the Governor of Georgia, and with whom they sailed, in his cabin. Upon one of those occasions, as Mr. Wesley informed me, the officers, and certain gentle¬ men who had been invited, took some liberties with the clergymen, not relishing their gravity. The General was roused at this, and, in a manner not to be misunderstood, cried out, “ What do you mean, Sirs ? Do you take these gentlemen for tithe-pig parsons ? They are gentle¬ men of learning and respectability. They are my friends ; and who¬ ever offers any affront to them, insults me.” From this time they were treated with great respect by all the passengers. “ Believing,” says Mr. Wesley, “ the denying ourselves in the smallest, instance, might, by the blessing of God, be helpful to us, we wholly left off the use of flesh and wine, and confined ourselves to vegetable food, chiefly rice and biscuit.” “We now,” continues he, “began to be a little regular. Our common way of living was this. From four in the morning till five, we were engaged in private prayer. From five to seven, we read the Bible together, carefully comparing it (that we might not lean to our own understandings) with the writings of the earliest ages. At seven we breakfasted. At eight were the public prayers. From nine to twelve, I usually learned German, and Mr. Delamotte, Greek. My brother wrote sermons, and Mr. Ingham instructed the children. At twelve we assembled together, to give an account to each other of what we had done since our last meeting, and what we designed to do before out next. About one we dined. The time from dinner to four, we spent in reading to those of whom each of us had taken charge, or in speaking to them severally, as need required. At four were the evening prayers; when either the second Lesson was explained, (as it always was in the morning,) or the children were catechised and instructed before the congregation. From five to six, we again used private prayer. From six to seven, I read in my cabin to two or three of the passengers, (of whom there were about eighty English on board,) and each of my brethren to a few more in theirs. At seven I joined with the Germans in their public service ; while Mr. Ingham was reading between the decks, to as many as desired to hear* At eight we met THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 15! ogam, to exhort and instruct one another. Between nine and ten we went to bed, where neither the roaring of the sea, nor the motion of the ship, could take away the refreshing sleep which God gave us.” I have given this account at large, as a specimen of his exactness in redeeming the time. Those who have not been intimately acquainted with Mr. Wesley, will be surprised at my declaring,—what I am persua¬ ded is the truth,—that it would be difficult to fix upon a single day, in the fifty-three years which followed, that was not divided with as great precision. The employments might vary; but not the exaet attention to the filling up of every hour! That the time he spent with the passengers was not wholly lost upon them, we also learn from several passages in his Journals. Many were deeply awakened; others were instructed in the first principles of the Christian religion, who were before entirely ignorant; and some, who had lived for years in a constant neglect of the public ordinances of the Gospel, were prevailed upon to attend them by the indefatigable labours of himself and his coadjutors. But though his eye was single ; though his life was not only harmless but exemplary; though he gave all his goods to feed the poor, and sacrificed ease and honour, and every other temporal gratification, that he might follow Christ; yet it is certain, he was still very little acquaint¬ ed with true experimental religion. This the Lord now began to show him, First, by the fear of death, which, notwithstanding all his efforts, brought him into bondage, whenever danger was apparent. “ At those times,” he remarks, “ I plainly felt I was unfit, because I was unwilling to die and, Secondly, the lively and victorious faith, which he evi¬ dently perceived in some of his fellow passengers, still more convinced him, that he possessed not the saving power of religion. Speaking of the Germans, he remarks, u I had long before observed the great seriousness of their behaviour. Of their humility they have given a continual proof, by performing those servile offices for the other passengers, which none of the English would undertake ; for which they desired, and would receive, no pay, saying, * It was good for their proud hearts, , and * Their loving Saviour had done more for them.’ And every day had given them occasion of showing a meekness, which no injury could move. If they were pushed, struck, or thrown down, they rose again and went away ; but no complaint was found in their mouth. There was now an opportunity of trying, whether they were delivered from the spirit of fear, as well as from that of pride, anger, and revenge. In the midst of the Psalm wherewith their service began, the sea broke ever, split the mainsail in pieces, covered the ship, and poured in between the decks, as if the great deep had a^eady swallowed us up. A terrible screaming began among the English* The Germans calmly sung on. I asked one of them afterwards, f Was you not afraid V He answered, ‘ I thank God, no.’ I asked, ‘ Belt were not your women and children afraid V He replied mildly, ‘No/ our women and children are not afraid to die.’ ” A circumstance occurred in the course of his voyage, which is not unworthy of notice. Mr. Wesley, hearing an unusual noise in the cabin of General Oglethorpe, stepped in to inquire the cause : on which the , * Mr. Southey, however, would have us l^licve, that this fear of death arose merely from the state of his stomach! 162 THE LIFE OF General immediately addressed him, “ Mr. Wesley, you must excuse me, I have met with a provocation too great for man to bear. You know, the only wine I drink, is Cyprus wine, as it agrees with me the best of any. I therefore provided myself with several dozens of it, and this villain Grimaldi, (his Italian servant, who was present, and almost dead with fear,) has drunk nearly the whole of it. But I will be re¬ venged. He shall be tied hand and foot, and carried to the man of war. (He alluded to a ship of war which sailed with them.) The rascal should have taken care how he used me so, for I never forgive.”— “ Then, I hope, sir, (said Mr. Wesley, looking calmly at him,) you never sin.” The General was quite confounded at the reproof; and, after a pause, putting his hand into his pocket, he took out a bunch of keys, which he threw at Grimaldi, saying, “ There, villain! take my keys, and behave better for the future.” At this time the Colony of Georgia had been founded only three years. The British Government had encouraged it as a defence for the southern provinces against the Spaniards ; but it had been projected by men of enlarged benevolence, as a means of providing for those who were poor at home. Twenty-one persons were incorporated as trustees for twenty- one years, with power, during that time, to appoint all the officers, and regulate all the concerns of the colony. They were authorized also to collect subscriptions, for fitting out and supporting the colonists till they could clear the lands. The trustees contributed money, not less libe¬ rally than time and labour. The Bank subscribed largely, and Parlia¬ ment voted Ten Thousand Pounds. The first expedition consisted of a hundred and sixteen settlers. General James Oglethorpe, one of the trustees, embarked with them ; an active, enterprising, and zealous man. He is said to have taken with him Sir Walter Raleigh’s original Journals, and to have been guided by them in the choice of a situ¬ ation for his settlement. This account is confirmed by the Indians : Their forefathers, they said, had held a conference with a warrior, who came over the great waters ; and they pointed out a funeral barrow, under which the chief who had conferred with him was buried, by his own desire, in the spot where the conference was held. It should seem that Raleigh had impressed him with an extraordinary respect for his character. The country belonged to .the Creek Indians. They were computed at this time to amount to about 25,000 souls, war and disease having greatly reduced their numbers. An Indian woman, who had married a trader from Carolina, acted as interpreter between her countrymen and the English. Yffiy chiefs and elders from the eight tribes of the Creeks were deputed to confer with Oglethorpe, and treat about an alliance. In the name of these confederated tribes, Weccachumpa, the Long Chief, informed the British adventurers, what was the extent of country which they claimed as their inheritance. He acknowledged the superiority of the white men to the red; he said, they were persuaded, that the Great Power, who dwelt in heaven and all around, (and he threw his hands abroad and prolonged his articulation as he spake,) had sent the English there for their good ; and therefore, they were welcome to all the land which the Creeks did not use themselves. Tomo-chachi, to whose tribe thisipart of the country belonged, then THE KEV. JOHN WESLEY. 153 presented the General with a buffalo skin, adorned on the inside with the head and feathers of an eagle. The eagle, he said, signified speed, and the buffalo strength. Like the eagle, the English flew over the great waters to the uttermost parts of the earth ; and like the buffalo, they were so strong that nothing could withstand them. The feathers of the eagle, he said, were soft, and signified love; the skin of the buf¬ falo was warm, and signified protection ; therefore he hoped the English would love and protect the little family of the Creeks. The alliance was soon completed : And the general then presented to each of their Micoes, or Kings, a shirt, a laced coat, and a laced hat; to each of their warriors a gun, with some smaller presents to their attendants. General Oglethorpe returned to England the following year, bringing with him Tomo-chachi, Sinawki his wife, and Tooanahowi his son, with seven other Indians. They were presented to George II, at Kensing¬ ton Palace, where the Micoe offered to the King a calumet or token of peace, and addressed him in the following characteristic oration: “ This day I see the majesty of your face, the greatness of your house, and the number of your people. I am come in my old days, though I cannot expect to see any advantage to myself: I am come for the good of the children of all the nations of the Upper and Lower Creeks, that they may be instructed in the knowledge of the English. These are feathers of the eagle, which is the swiftest of birds, and which flieth round our nations. These feathers in our hand are a sign of peace, and have been carried from town to town there. We have brought them over, to leave them with you, 0 great King, as a token of everlasting peace. O great King, whatever words you shall say unto me, I will faithfully tell them to all the kings of the Creek nations.” The orator addressed the Queen also in these words : “I am glad to see this day, and to have the opportunity of seeing the Mother of this great people. As our peo¬ ple are joined with your Majesty’s, we humbly hope to find you the common protectress of us and all our children.” The Indians had no reason to complain of their reception in England. A weekly allowance of twenty pounds was assigned them ; and they were entertained by several persons of distinction. Liberal presents were made them ; and when they embarked for their own country, they were carried in one of the king’s carriages to Gravesend. . A number of Saltzburghers, expelled by their own government on account of their religion, went over with them. A large party of Highlanders followed in the year ensuing, and the prospects of the colony were s-o promising that Parliament granted a supply of twenty-six thousand pounds. Mr. Oglethorpe, with Mr. Wesley, his brother, and their friends, sailed at the time already mentioned, with about three hundred passengers, in two ships. Thursday, February 5, 1736, they arrived in Savannah river, in Geor¬ gia, and about eight the next morning landed on a small uninhabited island. General Oglethorpe led them to a rising ground, where they kneeled down to give thanks. He then took boat for Savannah. When the rest of the people came on shore, they also joined together in prayer. Upon this occasion Mr. Wesley observes, that the second lesson, Mark vi, seemed to him peculiarly suitable. On February the 7th, the General returned with Mr. Spangenberg, 154 i'HE LIFE OF one of the Pastors of the Germans. The same piety,’ which Mr. Wes¬ ley had observed in those on board the ship, was also visible in this gentleman. “ I therefore,” says he, “ asked his advice with regard to my own conduct. He said, ‘ My brother, I must first ask you one or two questions. Have you the witness in yourself] Does the Spirit of God bear witness with your spirit, that you are a child of God V I was surprised, and knew not what to answer. He observed it, and asked, * Do you know Jesus Christ V I paused, and said, ‘ I know he is the Saviour of the world.’ * True,’ replied he : ‘ But do you know he has saved youV 1 answered, ‘ I hope he has died to save me.’ He only added, 1 Do you know yourself]’ I said, ‘ I do.’ But I fear they were vain words.”—David’s sling was here more than a match for Saul’s armour, though both were used in the same cause. Mr. Wesley was certainly not proud of his superior attainments, and he knew how little they availed in the things of God. But he did not yet know what would avail. He was taken out of his depth by the first question! We see here how the “ babe in Christ who knew the Father ,” even 11 the least in the kingdom, of God ,” was greater than the wise and learned disciple of the great modern John Baptist, Mr. Law. The house in which they were to reside not being ready, they took up their lodging with the Germans. “ We had now,” says Mr. Wesley, “ an opportunity, day by day, of observing their whole behaviour. For we were in one room with them from morning to night, unless for the little time I spent in walking. They were always employed, always cheerful themselves, and in good humour with one another. They had put away all anger, and strife, and wrath, and bitterness, and clamour, and evil speaking. They walked worthy of the vocation wherewith they were called, and adorned the Gospel of our Lord in all things.” He proceeds, “ Saturday, Feb. 28. They met to consult concerning the affairs of their church ; Mr. Spangenberg being shortly to go to Pennsylvania, and Bishop Nitschman to return to Germany. After several hours spent in conference and prayer, they proceeded to the election and ordination of a Bishop. The great simplicity, as well as solemnity of the whole, almost made me forget the seventeen hundred years between, and imagine myself in one of those assemblies, where form and state were not, but Paul the tent-maker, or Peter the fisher¬ man, presided, yet with the demonstration of the Spirit and power.” Sunday, March 7, Mr. Wesley entered on his ministry at Savannah, by preaching on the epistle for the day, being the xiiith of the first of Corinthians. In the second lesson, Luke xviii, was our Lord’s predict tion of the treatment which he himself, (and consequently his follow¬ ers,) was to meet with from the world; and his gracious promise to those who are content, JYadi nudum Christum sequi ;* “ Verihj I say unto you , there is no man that hath left house , or parent, or brethren , or wife , or children , for the kingdom of God’s sake , who shall not receive mani¬ fold more in this present time , and in the world to come , everlasting Kfi.” “ Yet,” says he, “ notwithstanding the plain declarations of our Lord, notwithstanding my own repeated experience, notwithstanding the ex¬ perience of all the sincere followers of Christ, whom I have ever talked with., read, or heard of; nay, and the reason of the thing, evincing it to * Nakedly to follow a naked Christ. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 155 a demonstration, that all who love not the light must hate him who is continually labouring to pour it in upon them;—I do here bear witness against myself,’ that when I saw the number of people crowding into the church, the deep attention with which they received the word, and the seriousness that afterwards sat on all their faces ; I could scarce refrain from giving the lie to experience, and reason, and Scripture, all together. I could hardly believe that the greater, the far greater part of this attentive, serious people, would hereafter trample under foot that word, and say all manner of evil falsely of Him that spake it. O, who can believe what his heart abhors? Jesus, Master, have mercy on us! Let us love thy cross! Then shall we believe, ‘ If we suffer with Thee , we shall also reign with Thee!’” Mr. Charles Wesley proceeded to Frederica, Mr. Oglethorpe chiefly residing there. His brother remained at Savannah,—both waiting for an opportunity of preaching to the Indians. On March the 9th, he land¬ ed on Simon’s Island, near Frederica, and, as he informs us in his Journal, his spirit immediately revived. “ No sooner,” says he, “ did I enter on my ministry than God gave me a new heart ;* so true is that saying of Bishop Hall, ‘The calling of God never leaves a man un¬ changed ; neither did God ever employ any in his service whom he did not enable for the work.’ ” The first person that saluted him on his landing, was his friend Mr. Ingham: “Never,” says he, “did I more rejoice to see him; especially when he told me the treatment he met with for vindicating the Lord’s Day.” In the afternoon he began to converse with his parishioners, without which he well knew that general instructions would be of little use. But, he observes, “with what trem¬ bling should I call them mine!” In the evening he read prayers in the open air, at which Mr. Oglethorpe was present. The lesson seemed remarkably adapted to his situation, and he felt the power of it;— con¬ tinue instant in prayer , and watch in the same with thanksgiving; withal praying also for us, that God would open a door of utterance to speak the mystery of Christ , that I might make it manifest as I ought to speak.” Some of the women who came out with them now began to be jeal¬ ous of each other, and to raise animosities and divisions in the Colony. The serious and religious deportment of Mr. C. Wesley, his constant presence, and his frequent reproofs of their licentious behaviour, soon made him an object of hatred; and plans were laid to ruin him with Mr. Oglethorpe, or to take him off by violence. These plans opened by degrees. March 11th, at ten in the morning, he began the full service to about a dozen women whom he got together, intending to continue it, and only to read some of the prayers to the men, in the morning before they went to work. He also expounded the second lesson. After the service, he met Mrs. H.’s maid, in great distress at the treat¬ ment which she said she received from her mistress. He prevailed on the poor girl, who seemed almost ready to destroy herself, to accom¬ pany him to Mrs. H., whom he besought to forgive her, but in vain. Her rage was quite ungovernable. Soon after, he met with Mr. Tack- ner, the husband of another of those daughters of violence, who he observes, made him full amends: He was in a most excellent spirit, resolved not to contend with his wife, but with himself, in “ putting off * An anticipation of the faith which he afterwards received. THE LIFE OF lotf the old man , and putting on the new.” This was the first taste which he had of the spirit of the new settlers who had sailed with him from England. We shall see it more abundantly in the sequel. In the evening he received the first harsh word from Mr. Oglethorpe, when he asked for something for a poor woman. The next day he received a rougher answer in a matter which deserved still greater encouragement. “ I know not,” says he, “ how to account for his in¬ creasing coldness.” His encouragement , he observes, was the same m speaking with Mrs. W., whom he found “all storm and tempest; so wilful, so untractable, so fierce, that he could not bear to stay near her.” This evening Mr. Oglethorpe was with the men under arms, in expect¬ ation of an enemy, but in the same ill humour with Mr. C. Wesley. “ I staid,” says he, “ as long as I could, however unsafe, within the wind of such commotion; but at last the hurricane of his passion drove me away.” Mr. C. Wesley’s situation was now truly alarming ; not only as it regarded his usefulness, but his safety. Many persons lost all decency in their behaviour towards him ; and Mr. Oglethorpe’s treatment of him showed, that he had received impressions to his disadvantage : at the same time he was totally ignorant of his accusers, and of what he was accused. Conscious, however, of his own innocence, he trusted in God, and considered his sufferings as a part of the portion of “ those who will live godly in Christ Jesus.” —Sunday, March 14th, he read prayers, and preached under a great tree, to about twenty people, among whom was Mr. Oglethorpe. “In the Epistle,” says he, “I was plainly shown what I ought to be, and what I ought to expect. Giving no offence in any thing , that the ministry be not blamed; but in all things approving ourselves as the ministers of Christ; in much patience , in afflictions , in necessities , in distresses , in stripes , in imprisonments , in tumults , in labours , in watchings ” &c. At night he found himself exceedingly faint; but had no better bed to lie down upon than the ground; on which he says, “ I slept very comfortably before a great fire, and waked next morning perfectly well.” He spent March 16th wholly in writing letters for Mr. Oglethorpe. He had nov^been six days at Frederica; and observes, “ I would not spend six days more in the same manner for all Georgia.” Nothing, certainly, but a determination to do and suffer the whole will of God, could make such a place tolerable for such a man for one day. March 18, Mr. Oglethorpe set out with the Indians to hunt the buf¬ falo upon the main, and to see the utmost limits of what they claimed.— This day Mrs. W. discovered to Mr. Wesley “ the whole mastery of iniquity This will appear in its proper place. He went to his myrtle grove, and while he was repeating, “ I will thank thee, for thou hast heard me, and art become my salvation,” a . gun was fired from the other part of the bushes. Providentially he had the moment before, turned from that end of the walk where the shot entered, and heard it pass close by him. This was, apparently, a design upon his life. A circumstance now took place, which soon brought on an explana¬ tion between Mr. Oglethorpe and Mr. C. Wesley. The General had, more than once, given orders, that no one should shoot on a Sunday; and a man had been confined in the guardroom for it. In the midst of the sermon, on Sunday the 21st. a gun was fired; Tire constable ran THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 157 out, and found it was the Doctor, and told him it was contrary to orders, and he must go with him to the officer. The Doctor’s passion kin¬ dled : “ What!” said he, “ don’t you know that I am not to be looked upon as a common fellow V’ The constable not knowing what to do, went back, and, after consulting with the officer, returned with two sen¬ tinels, and took the Doctor to the guard-room. His wife then charged and fired a gun, and ran thither like a mad woman, and said she had shot, and would be confined too. She cursed and swore in the utmost transport of rage, threatening to kill the first man that should come near her ; but at last she was persuaded to go away. In the afternoon she fell upon Mr. C. Wesley in the street, with the greatest bitterness and scurrility; saying he was the cause of her husband’s confinement, but she would be revenged, &c. He replied, that he pitied her but defied all that she or the devil could do ; and he hoped she would soon be of a better mind. 44 In my evening hour of retirement,” says he, 44 I re¬ signed myself to God, in prayer for conformity to a suffering Saviour.” 44 At night,” he tells us, “ I was forced to exchange my usual bed, the ground, for a chest; being almost speechless with a violent cold.” Mr. Oglethorpe was now expected to return from his excursion with the Indians ; and such was the violence of the party formed against Mr. C. Wesley, that the Doctor sent his wife to arm herself from the case of instruments, and forcibly to make her way to speak to the General first on his landing, and even to stab any person who should oppose her. 44 I was encouraged,” says Mr. Wesley, 44 from the lesson, 4 God hath not given us the spirit of fear , but of power.—Be not thou there* fore ashamed of the testimony of our Lord,’ ” &c. Of the occurrences connected with Mr. Oglethorpe’s return, Mr. G. Wesley gives the following statement:—“March 24th, I was enabled to pray earnestly for my enemies, particularly for Mr. Oglethorpe, whom I now looked upon as the chief of them; I then gave myself up entirely to God’s disposal, desiring that I might not now want power to pray, when I most of all needed it. Mr. Ingham then came and read the 37th Psalm, a glorious exhortation to patience, and confidence in God.— When notice was given us of Mr. Oglethorpe’s landing, Mr. H., Mr. Ingham, and I, were sent for. Wc found him in his tent, with the peo¬ ple round it, and Mr. and Mrs. H. within. After a short hearing, the officers were reprimanded,‘and the prisoners were dismissed. At going out, Mrs. H. modestly told me, she had something more to say against me, but she would take another opportunity.—I only answered, 4 You know, madam, it is impossible for me to fear you.’ When they were gone, Mr. Oglethorpe said he was convinced and glad that I had no hand in all this. I told him, that I had something to impart of the last import¬ ance when he was at leisure. He took no notice, but read his letters, and I walked away with Mr. Ingham, who was utterly astonished. The issue is just what I expected.—I was struck with these words in the evening lesson: 4 Thou, therefore, my son , be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus: Remember that Jesus Christ was raised from the dead, according to my gospel , wherein I suffer trouble as an evil-doer, even unto boiids , but the word of God is not bound, therefore I endure all things for the elect’s sake. It is a faithful saying : for if we be dead with him , we shall also live with him : if we suffer, we shall also reign with him.’ Vox,. I. 21 THE LIFE OF *58 “Thursday, March 25.—At half past seven, Mr. Oglethorpe called me out of my hut: I looked up to God, and went. He charged me with mutiny and sedition; and with stirring up the people to leave the co¬ lony. Accordingly, he said, they had a meeting last night, and sent to him this morning, desiring leave to go; that their speaker had informed against them, and against me, the spring of all; that the men were such as constantly came to prayers, therefore I must have instigated them ; that he should not scruple shooting half a dozen of them at once; but that he had, out of kindness, first spoken to me. My answer was, 4 I desire, sir, that you would have no regard to my friends, or the love you had for me, if any thing of this charge be made out against me. I know nothing of their meeting or designs. Of those you have mentioned, not one comes to prayers or sacrament. I never invited any one to leave the colony. I desire to answer accusers face to face.’ He said, my accuser was Mr. Lawley, whom he would bring, if I would wait here. I added, 4 Mr. Lawley is a man who has declared, that he knows no rea¬ son for keeping fair with any one , but a design to get all he can by him; but there was nothing to be got by the poor Parson .’ I asked whether he was not assured, that there were men enough in Frederica, who would say or swear any thing against any man, if he were in disgrace ? Whether, if he himself was removed, or succeeded ill, the whole stream of the people would not be turned against him? And even this Lawley, who was of all others, the most violent in condemning the prisoners, and justifying the officers? I observed, this was like the old cry, 4 Away with the Christians to the lions. n I mentioned R. and his wife scandalizing my brother and me, and vowing revenge against us both, threatening me yesterday even in his presence. I asked, what satisfaction or re¬ dress was due to my character? What good I could do in my parish, if cut off by calumnies from ever seeing one half of it? I ended with assuring him, that I had made, and should still make it my business, to promote peace among all. 44 When Mr. Oglethorpe returned with Lawley, he observed the place was too public : I offered to take him to my usual walk in the woods. In the way, it came into my mind to say to Mr. Oglethorpe, 4 Show only the least disinclination to find me guilty, and you shall see what a turn it will give to the'accusation.’ He took the hint, and insisted on Law- ley to make good his charge. He began with the quarrel in general, but did not show himself angry with me, or desirous to find me to blame. Lawley, who appeared full of guilt and fear, upon this dropped his ac¬ cusation, or rather shrunk it into my forcing the people to prayers. I replied, ‘The people themselves would acquit me of that;’ and as to the quarrel of the officers, I appealed to the officers themselves for the truth of my assertion, that I had no hand at all in it. I professed my desire and resolution of promoting peace and obedience. Here Mr. Ogle¬ thorpe spoke of reconciling matters; bidding Lawley tell the people, that he would not so much as ask who they were, if they were but quiet for the future. ‘I hope,’ added he, ‘they will be so; and Mr. Wesley here hopes so too.’ ‘ Yes,’ says Lawley, ‘ I really believe it of Mr. Wes¬ ley : I had always a great respect for him.’ I turned, and said to Mr. Oglethorpe, ‘Did I not tell you it would be so?’ He replied to Law- ley, ‘Yes, you had always very great respect for Mr. Wesley! You told me he was a stirrer up of sedition, and at the bottom of all this dis^ THE REV. JOHN WESLEV, 159 furbance V With this gentle reproof he dismissed him; and I thanked Mr. Oglethorpe, for having first spoken to me of the things of which I was accused, begging he would always do so, which he promised. I walked with him to Mrs. H.’s door; she came out aghast to see me with him. He there left me, ‘ and I was delivered out of the month of the lion.’ ” Mr. C. Wesley continues : “ I went to my hut, where I found Mr. Ingham : He said, this was but the beginning of sorrows. 1 Not as I ivill, but as thou wilt.’ About noon, in the midst of a storm of thunder and lightning, I read the 28th Psalm, and found it gloriously suited to my circumstances. I never felt the Scriptures as now. I now find them all written for my instruction or comfort.* At the same time I felt great joy in the expectation of our Saviour’s thus coming to judgment; when the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed, and God shall make my innocency as clear as the light , and my just dealing as the noon-day. After spending an hour at the camp, in singing such Psalms as suited the occasion, I went to bed in the hut, which was thoroughly wet with to-day’s rain. 1 4 March 26.— JVFy soul is always in my hand , therefore will I not forget thy law. This morning, early, Mr. Oglethorpe called me out to tell me of Mrs. Lawley’s miscarriage, by being denied access to the .Doctor for bleeding. He seemed very angry, and to charge me with it; saying, he should be the tyrant if he passed by such intolerable in¬ juries. I answered, that I knew nothing of the matter, and it was hard that it should be imputed to me ; that, from the first, Hermsdorff told the Doctor, he might visit any patients that he pleased, but the Doctor would not visit any. I denied, that I had the least hand in the business, as Hermsdorff himself had declared ; and yet I must be charged with all the mischief! ‘ How else can it be,’ said he, * that there is no love, no meekness, no true religion among the people ; but, instead of this, mere formal prayers V I said, * As to that, I can answer for them, that they have no more of the form of godliness, than the power ; for I have seldom more than six at the public service.’ He asked, * But what would an unbeliever say to your raising these disorders V I answered, 1 If I had raised them, he might say there is nothing in religion ; but what would that signify to those who had experienced it ? They would not say so.’ He said, ‘ The people were full of dread and confusion ; that it was much more easy to govern a thousand than sixty persons ; that he durst not leave them before they were settled.’ I asked him, ‘ Whether he would have me altogether forbear to converse with my parishioners V To this I could get no answer. I went on to observe, that the reason why I did not interpose for or against the Doctor, was his having, at the beginning, charged me with hie confinement. I said, ‘ I have talked less with my parishioners these five days past, than I had done in any one afternoon before. I have shunned appearing in public, lest my advice should be asked ; or lest, if I heard others talking, my silence should be deciphered into advice. But one argument of my innocence I can give, which will convince even you of it. I know, my life is in your hands ; and you know, that were you to frown upon me, and give the least intimation that it would be agreeable to you, the generality of this wretched people would say or swear any thing.’ To ■* *50 every man will find them, who walks according to them. 160 THE LIFE OF this he agreed, and owned the case was so with them all. 4 You see/ Said I, 4 that my safety depends on your single opinion of me. Must I not therefore be mad, if, in such a situation, I should provoke you, by disturbing the public peace ? Innocence, I know, is not the least pro¬ tection, but my sure trust is in God/ Here company interrupted us, and I left him. I was no longer careful for the event, after reading those words in the morning lesson, 4 Thou shalt not follow me now , but thou shalt follow me afterward / Amen : When thou pleasest: Thy time is best.” In the midst of the storm, Mr. C. Wesley wrote thus to his brother. His calmness and moderation are strikingly evident in this letter. , Frederica, JWarch 27th , 1736. 44 Dear Brother, —I received your letter and box. My last to you was opened, the contents being publicly proclaimed by those who were so ungenerous as to intercept it. I have not yet complained to Mr. Oglethorpe. Though I trust I shall never either write or speak what I will not justify both to God and man ; yet I would not have the secrets of my soul revealed to every one. For their sakes, therefore as well as for my own, I shall write no more, and desire you will not. Nor will you have occasion, as you visit us so soon. I hope your coming may be of use to many. 44 Mr. Oglethorpe gave me an exceeding necessary piece of advice for you : 4 Beware of hypocrites, in particular of log-house converts/ They consider you as favoured by Mr. Oglethorpe, and will therefore put on the form of religion, to please, not God, but you. To this I shall only add, give no temporal encouragement whatever to any seem¬ ing converts, else they will follow you for the sake of the loaves. Con¬ vince them thus, that it can never be worth their while to be hypocrites. Stay till you are in disgrace, in persecution, by the heathen, by your own countrymen ; till you are accounted the offscouring of all things, (as you must infallibly be, if God is true,) and then see who will follow you. I.* 44 God, you believe, has much w ork to do in America. I believe so too, and begin to enter into the designs which he has over me . I see why* he brought me hither; and hope ere long to say with Ignatius, 4 It is now that I beg in to be a disciple of Christ/ G od direct you to pray for me.—Adieu.” What a superiority to all the machinations of his ungodly persecutors does this letter exhibit! 44 Calm on tumult’s wheel 1” See the power that God gives to sincerity! —for, as yet, he had not the faith of the Gospel. On the evening of the day when Mr. Charles Wesley wrote this letter, a thought came into his mind to send Mr. Ingham for his bro¬ ther. Mr. Ingham was at first much averse to leave him in his trials, but at length was persuaded to go to Savannah ; and Mr. John Wesley set out from thence on the 4th of April, j* I shall continue my extracts from Mr. Charles’s narrative. ' 44 Sunday, March 28th.-—I went to the storehouse, our tabernacle at present, to hearken what the Lord God would say concerning both * His way of writing! as also of speaking, was always very short and sententious, f See Mr. Wesley’s Journal, vol. xxvi of his Works, pp. 127,12B, THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. m myself and the congregation. I was struck with the first lesson, Jo¬ seph and Potiphar’s wife. The second was still more animating : 4 If the world hate you, ye know it hated me before it hated you ; if ye ivere of the world, the ivorld icould love its own .’ After prayers, poor Mr. Davison staid behind to take his leave of Mr. Ingham. He burst into tears, and said, 4 One good man is leaving us already; I foresee nothing but desolation. Must my poor children be brought up like these savages V* We endeavoured to comfort him, by showing him his calling. At ten o’clock Mr. Ingham preached an alarming sermon on the Day of Judgment. In my walk at noon, I was full of heaviness ; I complained to God, that I had no friend but Him, and even in Him could find no comfort. Immediately I received power to pray; then, opening my Bible, I read as follows : 4 Hearken unto me , ye that seek the Lord; look unto the rock from whence you were hewn : Fear not the reproach of men, neither be ye afraid of their reviling. Awake, awake, flee away; who art thou, that thou shouldst be afraid of a man that shall die, and hast feared continually every day, because of the fury of the oppressor ? And where is the fury of the oppressor V After reading this, it is no w onder that I found myself renewed in confidence. While Mr. Ingham waited for the boat, I took a turn with Mr. Horton: He fully convinced me of the true character of Mrs. H. ;—in the highest degree ungrateful, &c, &c. I then hastened to the water-side, where I found Mr. Ingham just put off. O ! happy, happy friend ! Abiit, eru- pit, evasit :f but wo is me that I am still constrained to dwell in Me- shech. I languished to bear him company, followed him with my eye till out of sight, and then sunk into deeper dejection of spirit than I had known before. 44 March 29.—I was revived with those words of our Lord ; 1 These things have I spoken unto you, that you should not be offended. They shall put you out of their synagogues; yea, the time cometh, that whosoever killeth you shall think that he doeth God service ,’ &c. Knowing when I left England, that I was to live with Mr. Oglethorpe, I brought nothing with me but my clothes and books. This morning, asking a servant for something I wanted, I think a tea-kettle, he told me, that Mr. Ogle¬ thorpe had given orders that no one should use his things. I answered, 4 That order, I suppose, did not extend to me V — 4 Yes, Sir,’ said he, 4 you were excepted by name.’ Thanks be to God, that it is not yet made capital to give me a morsel of bread ! 44 March 30.—Having lain hitherto on the ground, in a comer of Mr. Reed’s hut, and hearing some boards were to be disposed of, I attempt¬ ed in vain to get some of them to lie upon ; they were given to all be¬ sides, the minister of Frederica only must be atpp»jrwp, udepigog, avsgiog.^ Yet, are we not hereunto called—aa'-rarsiv, xaxotfafteiv ?§ Even the Son of Man had not where to lay his head. I find the Scriptures an inex¬ haustible fund of comfort. 4 Is my hand shortened at all that I cannot save, or have 1 no power to deliver ? Behold, the Lord God will help me : who is he that shall condemn me?’ 44 March 31.—I begin now to be abused and slighted into an opinion * He meant the good Christians who came with them from England. + He is gone; he has broken loose; he has escaped. i To be destitute of a habitation, and treated a6 an enemy to society, and as an unjust person. § To have no certain dwelling-place; to suffer afflictions.—-1 Cor. iv, 11; 2 Tim. iv. 5 162 THE LIFE OF of my own considerableness. I could not be more trampled upon, wem I a fallen Minister of State. The people have found out, that I am in disgrace, and all the cry is, Curramus prcecipites , et, dum jacet in ripd, calcemus Ccesaris hostem .* My few well-wishers are afraid to speak to me ; some have turned out of the way to avoid me ; others have de¬ sired, that I would not take it ill if they seemed not to know me when we should meet. The servant that used to wash my linen, sent it back unwashed. It was great cause of triumph that I was forbid the use of Mr. Oglethorpe’s things ; which, in effect, debarred me of most of the conveniences, if not the necessaries, of life. I sometimes pitied them, and sometimes diverted myself with the odd expressions of their con¬ tempt ; but I found the benefit of having undergone a much lower de¬ gree of obloquy at Oxford. “April 1.—In the midst of morning service, a poor scout boat-man was brought in, who was almost killed by the bursting of a eannon. I found him senseless and dying, and ail I could do, was to pray for him, and try by his example to awaken his two companions. He languished till the next day and then died.—Hitherto I have been borne up by a spirit not my own : but exhausted nature sinks at last. It is amazing she has held out so long. My outward hardships and inward conflicts ; the bitterness of reproach from the only man I wished to please, at last have worn down my boasted courage. Accordingly this afternoon I was forced by a friendly fever to take my bed. My sickness, I knew, could not be of long continuance, as I was in want of every help and conve¬ nience ; it must either soon leave me, or release me from farther suffer¬ ings. In the evening Mr. Hird and Mr. Robinson called to see me, and offered me all the assistance in their power. I thanked them, but desired they would not prejudice themselves by taking this notice of me. At that instant we were alarmed with a cry of the Spaniards being come; we heard many guns fired, and saw the people fly in great consternation to the fort. I felt not the least disturbance or surprise ; bid the women not fear, for God was with us. In a few minutes, news was brought, that it was only a contrivance of Mr. Oglethorpe’s to try the people. My charitable visitants then left me, and soon returned with some gruel, which threw me into a sweat. 11 The next morning, April 2, they ventured to call again : At night, when my fever was somewhat abated, I was led out to bury the scout boat-man, and envied him his quiet grave. “ April 3.—I found nature endeavoured to throw off the disease by excessive sweating : I therefore drank whatever the women brought me. “ April 4. —My flux returned ; but notwithstanding this, I was obliged to go abroad, and preach and administer the sacrament. My sermon, on ‘ Keep innocency and take heed to the thing that is right , for this shall bring a man peace at the last ,’ was deciphered into a satire against Mrs. H.—At night I got an old bedstead to sleep upon, being that on which the scout boat-man had died. “ April 6.—I found myself so faint and weak, that it was with difficulty I got through the prayers. Mr. Davison, my good Samaritan, would often call or send his wife to attend me ; and to their care, under God, I * “ Let us run quickly; and while he is down, let us trample on the enemy of Caesar.” These words were spoken oricrinallv of Seianus, the fallen minister of Tiberius the Roman Etnperor. J THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 16d owe my file. To-day Mr. Oglethorpe gave away my bedstead from under me, and refused to spare one of the carpenters to mend me up another. 44 April 10.—Mr. Reed waked me with the news, that my brother and Mr. Delamotte were on their way to Frederica. I found the en¬ couragement I sought, in the Scripture for the day, Psalm lii. 4 JVhy boastest thou thyself, thou tyrant, that thou canst do mischief? whereas the goodness of God endureth yet daily . Thy tongue imagineth wicked¬ ness, and with lies thou cuttest like a sharp razor,’ &c.—At six my bro¬ ther and Mr. Delamotte landed, when my strength was so exhausted, that I could not have read prayers once more. He helped me into the woods, for there was no talking among a people of spies and ruffians ; nor even in the woods, unless in an unknown tongue.* And yet Mr. Oglethorpe received my brother with abundant kindness! I began my account of all that had passed, and continued it till prayers. It would be needless to mention all the Scriptures, which, for so many days, have been adapted to my circumstances. But I cannot pass by the lesson for this evening, Heb. xi.—I was ashamed of having well nigh sunk under my sufferings, when I beheld the conflicts of those triumphant sufferers of whom the world was not worthy . “ April 11.—What words could more support our confidence, than the following, out of the Psalms for the day ? 4 Be merciful unto me, O God, for man goeth about to devour me. He is daily fightmg and troubling me . Mine enemies be daily in hand to swallow me up, for they be many that fight against me . 1 will put my trust in God, and will not fear what fiesh can do unto me. They daily mistake my words, 9 &c. The next Psalm was equally animating,— 4 Be merciful unto me, O God, for my soul trusteth in thee; and under the shadow of thy ivings shall be my refuge , till this tyranny be overpast . I will call unto the most high God, even unto the God that shall perform the cause that $ have in hand . J\Iy soul is among lions; and I lie even among the chil¬ dren of men that are set on fire, whose teeth are spears and arrows, and their tongue a sharp sword,’ &c. I just recovered strength enough to consecrate at the Sacrament; my brother performed the rest. We then went out of the reach of informers; and I proceeded in my account, being fully persuaded of the truth of Mrs. W.’s information against Mr. Oglethorpe, Mrs. H., and herself. At noon my brother repeated to me his last conference with Mrs. W., in confirmation of all she had ever told me. Of this affair more will hereafter be related. 44 April 17th.—My brother and Mr. Delamotte set out in an open boat for Savannah. I preached in the afternoon on 4 He that now goeth on his way weeping and beareth good seed , shall doubtless come again with joy, and bring his sheaves with him.’ 44 Easter-eve, April 24.—I was sent for at ten by Mr. Oglethorpe. He began, 4 Mr. Wesley, you know what has passed between us. I took some pains to satisfy your brother about the reports concerning me, but in vain; he here renews his suspicions in writing. I did desire to convince him, because I had an esteem for him; and he is just as considerable to me as my esteem makes him. I could clear up all; but it matters not; you will soon see the reason of my actions. I am cow going to death; you will see me no more. Take this ring, and cany' * They conversed in Latin. THE LIFE OP 164 it from me to Mr. Y. If there be a friend to be depended on, he is one. His interest is next to Sir Robert’s; whatever you ask, within his power, he will do for you, your brother, and family. I have expected death for some days. These letters show, that the Spaniards have long been seducing our allies, and intend to cut us off at a blow. I fall by my friends, on whom I depended to send their promised succours. But death is nothing to me ;* I will pursue all my designs, and to Him I recommend them and you.’ He then gave me a diamond ring; I took it, and said, If postremum fato quod te alloquor ; hoc est; j* hear what you will quickly know to be a truth as soon as you are entered on a separate state : this ring I shall never make any use of for myself: I have no worldly hopes, I have renounced the world. Life is bitterness to me—I came hither to lay it down. You have been deceived as well as I. I protest my innocence of the crimes I am charged with, and think myself now at liberty to tell you what I thought never to have uttered.”—It is probable that he then unfolded to Mr. Oglethorpe the whole plot, as Mrs. W. had discovered it to him. “ When I had finished this relation,” proceeds Mr. C. Wesley, 44 he seemed entirely changed : full of his old love and confidence in me. After some expressions of kindness, I asked him, xWe you now satis¬ fied ?—He replied, 4 Yes, entirely.’-—Why then, Sir, I desire nothing more on earth, and care not how soon I follow you.—He added, how much he desired the conversion of the heathen, and believed my bro¬ ther intended for it.—But I believe, said I, it will never be under your patronage ; for then men would account for it, without taking God into the account. He replied, 4 1 believe so too.’—He then embraced and kissed me with the most cordial affection. I attended him to the scout boat, where he waited some minutes for his sword. They brought a mourning-sword the first and a second time ; at last they gave him his own, which had been his father’s. 4 With this sword,’ said he, 4 1 was never yet unsuccessful.’ When the boat put off, I ran into the woods to see my last of him. Seeing me and two others run after him he stopped the boat, and asked if we wanted any thing. Capt. Mackintosh, whom he left commander, desired his last orders. I then said, God is with you ; go forth, Christo duce , et auspice Christo. 4 You have,’ said he, 4 some verses of mine: you there see my thoughts of success.’ The boat then carried him out of sight. I interceded for him, that God would save him from death, and wash away all his sins. 44 April 29.—About half past eight, I went down to the bluff, to see a boat that was coming up. At nine it arrived, with Mr. Oglethorpe. I blessed God for still holding his soul in life. In the evening we took a walk together, and he informed me more particularly of our past dan¬ ger. Three large ships and four smaller, had been seen for three weeks together at the mouth of the river ; but the wind continuing against them, they were hindered from making a descent until they could stay no longer. I gave him back his ring, and said, I need not, indeed I cannot, Sir, tell you how joyfully and thankfully I return this.-— 4 When I gave it you,’ said he, 4 1 never expected to receive it again, but thought it would be of service to your brother and you. I had many omens of my death ; but God has been pleased to preserve a life which was never valuable to * Poor empty boast! f If this be the last time I am allowed to speak to you. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 165 ine; and yet, in the continuance of it, I thank God, I can rejoice/ He appeared full of tenderness to me ; and passed on to observe the strangeness of his deliverance, when betrayed on all sides, without hu¬ man support and utterly helpless. He condemned himself for his late anger, which he imputed to want of time for consideration. I longed, Sir, said I, to see you once more, that I might tell you some things before we finally parted. But then I considered that if you died, you would know them all in a moment.— 4 I know not,’ said he, 4 whether separate spirits regard our little concerns : If they do, it is as men regard the follies of their childhood ; or, as I my late passionateness.’ ” Could these words be uttered by any man of understanding who believed the Christian Revelation ? 44 April 30, I had some farther talk with him ; he ordered me every thing he could think I wanted; and promised to have a house built for me immediately. He was just the same to me he formerly had been.” Mrs. H. and Mrs. W. were women of very loose morals ; they had come from England in the ship with Mr. Oglethorpe, and while at sea, Mrs. W. seemed to be under some religious impressions, but soon lost them on shore. The character of Mrs. H. was well known in England ; Mr. Charles Wesley was informed by Mr. Hird, that Mr. Oglethorpe declared he would rather give a hundred pounds than take her in the ship. Though Mr. C. Wesley knew this, and the whole of her charac¬ ter, yet he never upbraided her with it, but patiently endured her revi- lings. His innocence appears on the very face of their proceedings ; and hence Mr. Oglethorpe, when undeceived, attributed his own conduct to a want of time for consideration. Mr. C. Wesley, being now more at ease from his persecutors, gradu¬ ally regained his strength ; and on the 11th of May he was sufficiently recovered to expound the lesson.—On the 12th the morning lesson, was respecting Elisha when surrounded with the host at Dothan. 44 It is our privilege as Christians,” Mr. C. Wesley observes, “to apply those words to ourselves, 4 There he more that be for us , than those that be against us.’ God spoke to us yet plainer in the second lesson.— 4 Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves; be ye there¬ fore wise as serpents and harmless as doves .— But beware of men, for they ivill deliver you up, and ye shall be brought before Governors and Kings for my name’s sake ; and ye shall be hated of all men; but he that endurcth to the end shall be saved.—The disciple is not above his JMaster ; fear ye not, therefore, for there is nothing covered which shall not be revealed, and hid ivhich shall not be made known’ ”, In explain¬ ing this, he adds, 44 1 dwelt on that blessed topic of consolation to the innocent, that however he may suffer here, he will shortly be cleared at God’s righteous bar, where the accuser and the accused shall meet face to face, and the guilty person acquit him whom he unjustly charged, and take back the wickedness to himself. Poor Mrs. W., who was just over against me, could not stand it, but first turned her back, and then retired behind the congregation.” No one would have rejoiced more in her repentance and conversion to God, than Mr. C. Wesley. May 13, Mr. Oglethorpe being gone to the southward, Mr. Charles Wesley set out for Savannah, whither the Indian traders were coming down to meet him in order to fake out their licenses. On the 16th, he Vol. I, 22 166 THE LIFE OF reached Thunderbolt at six in the evening, and from thence walked to Savannah,* which is about five miles. His brother, Mr. Ingham, and Mr. Delamotte were surprised at his unexpected visit; but, it being late, each retired to his corner of the room, and “ without the help of a bed,” says Mr. Charles, “ we slept soundly till the morning.”—On the 19th, Mr. John Wesley set out for Frederica, and Mr. Charles took charge of Savannah in his absence. “ The hardest duty,” said he, “ imposed on me, was, expounding the lesson morning and evening to one hundred hearers. I was surprised at my own confidence, and acknowledged it was not my own.” The day was usually divided between visiting his parishioners, considering the lesson, and conversing with Mr. Ingham, Delamotte, &c. On the 22d he first met the Traders, at Mr. Causton’s, and continued to meet some or other of them every day for several weeks. May 31. Mr. Oglethorpe being returned from the southward, and come to Savannah, he this day held a court. “We went,” says Mr. C. Wesley, “and heard his speech to the people; in the close of which he said, ‘ If any one here has been abused, or oppressed, by any man, in, or out of office, he has free and full liberty of complaining: Let him deliver in his complaints in writing at my house; I will read them all over by myself, and do every particular man justice.* At eight in the evening I waited upon him, and found the three Magistrates with him, who seemed much alarmed by his speech:—* they hoped he would not discourage government .*—He dismissed them.” We have here a cu¬ rious specimen of the notions which the Magistrates of Savannah had of government. “On the 21st of July,” says Mr. Charles, “I heard by my brother, who was then with Mr. Oglethorpe, at Savannah, that I was to set sail for England in a few days.” This was not merely on account of his health, which was now a little recovered : He was to carry despatches from Mr. Oglethorpe, to the Trustees of Georgia, to the Board of Trade, and probably to Government. The next day, July 22, he got all the licenses signed by Mr. Oglethorpe, and countersigned them himself, “ and so,” says he, “ I entirely washed my hands of the Traders.” This seems to have been a business which he cordially disliked, and thinking the present a favourable opportunity of escaping from his disa¬ greeable situation, he wrote a letter to Mr. Oglethorpe on the 25th, resigning his office of Secretary. In the evening Mr. Oglethorpe took him aside, and asked whether the sum of all he had said in the letter was not contained in the following line, which he showed him, JMagis apta Tuis , tua dona relinquo. Sir, to yourelf your slighted gifts I leave, Less fit for me to take than you to give. “ Sir,” said Mr. C. Wesley, “ I do not wish to lose your esteem, but I cannot lose my soul to preserve it.”—He answered, “ I am satisfied of your regard for me ; and your argument drawn from the heart is unan¬ swerable : Yet I would desire you not to let the Trustees know your resolution of resigning. There are many hungry fellows ready to catch at the office, and in my absence [from England] I cannot put in one of my own choosing. Perhaps they may send me a bad man; and how far such a one may influence the Traders, and obstruct the reception This accords with Mr. John Wesley’s Journal. See his Works, vol. 26, p. 130 THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 167 of the Gospel among the heathen, you know.—I shall be in England be¬ fore you hear of it, and then you may either put in a deputy or resign.” July 26.—Mr. C. Wesley set out for Charleston on his way to Eng¬ land. Thus far his brother accompanied him; and they arrived there on the 31st of July.* He now found his desires renewed to recover the image of God ; and at the Sacrament was encouraged in an unusual manner, to hope for pardon, and to strive against sin. In every place where he came, Mr. C. Wesley was attentive to the things which passed round about him. We cannot therefore wonder that the wretched situation of the Negroes should attract his notice. The following instance of depravity is truly shocking. “ I had observed much, and heard more,” says he, “ of the cruelty of masters towards their Negroes : but now I received an authentic account of some horrid instances thereof. I saw myself, that the giving a slave to a child of its own age, to tyrannize over, to abuse and beat it out of sport, was a common practice : Nor is it strange, that, being thus trained up in cru¬ elty, they should afterwards arrive at such a perfection in it.” “ Another much applauded punishment,” says Mr. C. Wesley, “ is, drawing the teeth of their slaves. It is universally known, that Colonel L- cut off the legs of a poor negro, and that he kills several of them every year by his barbarities. “ It were endless to recount all the shocking instances of diabolical cruelty, which these men, as they call themselves, daily practise upon their fellow creatures, and that upon the most trivial occasions—I shall only mention one more, related to me by an eye witness. Mr. -, a dancing-master in Charleston, whipt a female slave so long, that she fell down at his feet, in appearance dead : When by the help of a physi¬ cian, she was so far recovered as to show some signs of life, he repeat¬ ed the whipping with equal rigour, and concluded the punishment with dropping scalding wax upon her flesh. These horrid cruelties are the less to be wondered at, because the law itself, in effect, countenances and allows them to kill their slaves, by the ridiculous penalty appointed for it. The penalty is about seven pounds sterling, one half of which is usually remitted if the criminal inform against himself.” Had the two Mr. Wesleys been now living, how greatly would they have rejoiced, and praised God, for the total abolition of the British Slave- Trade, and for the humane measures lately proposed in our Parliament, and sanctioned by Government, with a view to the mitigation and gra¬ dual extinction of the state of slavery itself, in our West Indian Colo¬ nies.! While Mr. C. Wesley stayed at Charleston, his bloody flux and fever hung upon him, and rather increased. Notwithstanding this, he was determined to go in the first ship that sailed for England. His friends endeavoured to dissuade him from it, both because the ship was very leaky, and the Captain, a mere beast of a man, was almost continually * This account, also agrees with Mr. John Wesley’s Journal. Seevol. 26, of his Works* p. 145. f We might add, that had the Messrs. Wesley lived to witness the emancipation of the slaves in some of the States in which they were formerly held in bondage, the meliorating of their condition in consequence of the influence of Christianity upon the hearts of both masters and slaves, in others of the States where slavery still exists, together with the fact that the Government of the United States have not only abolished the African slave trade, but declared it to be piracy, and punishable as such, they certainly would have had addi tional cause of joy. American Editors. 168 THE LIFE OF drunken. But he was deaf to their advice. “ The public business/- 7 says he, “ that hurried me to England, being of that importance, that as their Secretary 1 could not answer to the Trustees for Georgia, the loss of a day.” Accordingly he engaged his passage on board the London * * * § Galley, which left Charleston on the 16th of August. But they soon found that the Captain, while on shore, had neglected every thing to which he ought to have attended. The vessel was too leaky to bear the voyage : and the Captain, drinking nothing scarcely but gin, had never troubled his head about taking in a sufficient quantity of water; so that, on the 26th, they were obliged to be reduced to short allow¬ ance, Meeting afterwards with stormy weather, the leak became alarm¬ ing ; and their difficulties increased so fast upon them, that they were obliged to steer for Boston in New-England, where they arrived, with much difficulty and danger, on the 24th of September. Mr. C. Wesley was soon known at Boston, and met with a hospita¬ ble reception among the Ministers, hoth of the town and neighbourhood. Having experienced much difficulty at Frederica, to prevent his letters to his brother from being read by others, he learned Byrom’s Short-hand, and now for the first time wrote to his brother in those characters. He tells him, “ If you are as desirous as J am of a correspondence, you must set upon Byrom’s Short-hand immediately.” Mr. John Wesley did so, and their correspondence was afterwards carried on chiefly in it. The following letter was evidently written in a hurry, probably in the midst of company. A part of it is in Latin, which, as it shows the facility with which he wrote in this language, and also discovers some¬ thing of the turn of his mind, I shall transcribe below.* The substance of it I give in English. “ Boston, October 5, 1736. “ I am wearied with this hospitable people,—they so vex and tease me with their civilities. They do not suffer me to be alone. The clergy, who come from the country on a visit, drag me along with them when they retum.f I am constrained to take a view of this New-Eng¬ land, more pleasant even than the old. I cannot help exclaiming 0 ! happy country, that cherishes neither flies, J nor crocodiles,§ nor inform- * “ Taedet me populi hujusce dnXo^vov, ita me urbanitate sua divexant et persequuntur. Non patiuntur me esse solum. E rure veniunt invisentes Clerici; me reverlentes in rurem trahunt. Cogor hanc Angliam contemplari, etiam antiqua amoeniorem; et nequeo non exclamare, O fortunata regio, nec muscas alens, nec crocodilos, nec delatores! Sub fine hujus hebdomadis navem cerpssime conscendimus, duplicate sumptu patriam empturi. Ca- rolinensium nemo viatica suppeditavit; et hie itidem nil nisi cum pretio. Pessime me habet quod cogor moram hanc emere, magnumque pretium digressionis solvere. “Morbus meus, aere hoc saluberrimo semel fugatus, iterum rediit. Suadent amici omnes, ut medicum consulem; sed ‘Funera non possum tarn pretiosa pati.’ ” fOf Mr. C. Wesley’s sincerity, any more than 6f his brother’s, there can be no question. But he was still under “the spirit of bondage'' and consequently not much at ease either with others or himself. This accounts for his being so vexed with the kindness of his new friends. It might be rather troublesome; but the spirit of love, the offspring of Gospel faith, would have easily borne it, and returned love for love. “Love is a present for a mighty king.” Herbert. | When Mr. C. Wesley was at Frederica, the sand-flies were one night so exceedingly troublesome, that he was obliged to rise at one o’clock, and smoke them out of his hut. He tells us, that the whole town was employed in the same way. § He means that species of crocodile called the alligator. When at Savannah, he and Mr. Delamotte used to bathe in the Savannah river, between four and five o’clock in the morning, before the alligators were stirring, but they heard them snoring all round them. One morning Mr. Delamotte was in great danger; an alligator rose just behind him, and pursued him to the land, whither he escaped with difficulty. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 16 9 ers. About the end of this week, we shall certainly go on board the ship, having to pay a second time for our passage. None of those from Carolina supplied me with provisions, and here also nothing is to be had without money. It vexes me to be obliged to purchase this delay, and to pay a great price for my departure. “ My disorder, once removed by this most salubrious air, has again returned. All my friends advise me to consult a physician, but I can¬ not afford so expensive a funeral.” Mr. C. Wesley did not go on board as he expected, the ship being detained some time longer. During his stay here, his disorder return¬ ed with violence, and reduced him to a state of very great weakness. On the 15th of October he wrote to his brother, and continued his letter in a kind of journal to the 25th, when he went on board the ship, and sailed for England. His account is as follows : 44 I should be glad for your sake to give a satisfactory account of my¬ self, but that you must never expect from me.—It is fine talking while we have youth and health on our side; but sickness would spoil your boasting as well as mine. I am now glad of a warm bed ; but must soon betake myself to my board again. 44 Though I am apt to think that I shall at length arrive in England to deliver what I am intrusted with, yet do I not expect, or wish for a long life. How strong must the principle of self-preservation be, which can make such a wretch as I am willing to live at all !—or rather un¬ willing to die ; for I know no greater pleasure in life, than in considering that it cannot last for ever. -The temptations past No more shall vex me; every grief I feel Shortens the destined number; every pulse Beats a sharp moment of the pain away, And the last stroke will come. By swift degrees Time sweeps me off, and I shall soon arrive At life’s sweet period : O ! Celestial point That ends this mortal story.- 44 To-day completes my three weeks* unnecessary stay at Boston. To-morrow the ship falls down. I am just now much worse than ever j but nothing less than death shall hinder me from embarking. 44 October 18.—The ship that carries me, must meet with endless delays : it is well if it sails this week. I have lived so long in honours and indulgences, that I have almost forgotten whereunto I am called; being strongly urged to set up my rest here. But I will lean no longer upon men ; nor again put myself into the power of any of my own merciless species, by either expecting their kindness or desiring their esteem. 44 October 21.—I am worried on all sides by the solicitations of my friends, to defer my winter voyage till I have recovered a little strength. Mr.-, I am apt to think, would allow me to wait a fortnight for the next ship ; but then if I recover, my stay will be thought unnecessary. I must die to prove myself sick, and I can do no more at sea. I am there¬ fore determined to be carried on board to-morrow, and leave the event to God. 44 October 25.—The ship fell down as was expected, but a contrary wind prevented me from following till now. At present, I am something better: on board the Hannah, Captain Comey; in the state-room, which they have forced upon me. I have not strength for more. Adieu,” m THE LIFE OF On the 27th, Mr. C. Wesley had so far recovered his strength that he was able to read prayers. The next day the Captain informed him, that a storm was approaching. In the evening it came on with dread¬ ful violence, and raged all night. On the 29th in the morning, they shipped so prodigious a sea, that it washed away their sheep, half of their hogs, and drowned most of their fowl. The ship was heavily laden, and the sea streamed in so plenti¬ fully at the sides, that it was as much as four men could do, by con¬ tinual pumping, to keep her above water. “ I rose and lay down by turns,” adds Mr. C. Wesley, “ but could remain in no posture long. I strove vehemently to pray, but in vain; I still persisted in striving, but without effect. I prayed for power to pray,* for faith in Jesus Christ; continually repeated his name, till I felt the virtue of it at last, and knew that I abode under the shadow of the Almighty.” At three in the afternoon the storm was at the height; at four, the ship made so much water, that the Captain, finding it otherwise impossible to save her from sinking, cut down the mizzenmast. “ In this dreadful moment,” says Mr. C. Wesley, “ I bless God I found the comfort of hope ; and such joy in finding I could hope, as the world can neither give nor take away. I had that conviction of the power of God present with me, overbalancing my strongest passion, fear, and raising me above what I am by nature, as surpassed all rational evidence, and gave me a taste of the Divine goodness.” He at that time again anticipated the power and sweetness of Christian faith , no uncommon thing with those who mourn for it. See this subject well illustrated in Mr. John Wesley’s Sermon on “ The Spirit of bondage, and of adoption.” On the 30th, the storm abated ; and “ On Sunday the 31st,” he ob¬ serves, “ my first business was, (may it be the business of all my days!) to offer up the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. We all joined in thanks for our deliverance most of the day.” They soon met with another storm, but not so violent as the former; and continuing their voyage, with some intervening difficulties and dan¬ gers, till the third of December, the ship arrived opposite Deal, and the passengers came safe on shore. “ I kneeled down,” says Mr. C. Wes¬ ley, “ and blessed the hand that had conducted me through such inex¬ tricable mazes, and desired I might give up my country again, whenever God should require it.”—A state of mind very different from that of many who have been called to labour for the Lord! “ Est istuc navigare V 9 &c, says the soft Erasmus, (the Atticus of the Reformation, who strove to keep well with all parties,) u Jive these things the lot of those who sail ? God forbid,” he continues, u that I should ever think of encoun¬ tering them !”—No, it was more easy and honourable for that eminent scholar to raise a laugh at the expense of the Papacy ; and, at the same time, to insinuate blame against the zealous Reformers, by whom the Lord was exposing “ the Man of Sin,” and giving life to the world. * He means with confidence and comfort. THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. m CHAPTER II. CONTINUATION OF MR. WESLEY’S MISSION TO AMERICA. Leaving Mr. Charles Wesley safe in his native land, we shall now proceed to his brother Mr. John Wesley. On the 18th of March, 1736, he wrote to his mother as follows ; “ I doubt not but you are already informed of the many blessings which God gave us in our passage ; as my brother Wesley must, before now, have received a particular account of the circumstances of our voyage ; which he would not fail to transmit to you by the first opportunity. “We are likely to stay here some months. The place is pleasant beyond imagination ; and, by all I can learn, exceeding healthful,—even in summer, for those who are not intemperate. It has pleased God that I have not had a moment’s illness of any kind since I set my foot upon the Continent: nor do I know any more than one of my seven hundred parishioners, whu is sick a,t this time. Many of them indeed, are, I believe, very angry already : for a gentleman, no longer ago than last night, made a ball ; but the public prayers happening to begin about the same time, the church was full, and the ball-room so empty that the entertainment could not go forward. “ I should be heartily glad, if any poor and religious men or women of Epworth, or Wroote, would come over to me. And so would Mr. Oglethorpe too : He would give them land enough, and provisions gratis, till they could live on the produce of it. I was fully determined to have wrote to my dear Emmy* to-day ; but time will not permit. O hope ye still in God ! for ye shall yet give him thanks, who is the help of your countenance, and your God! Renounce the world ; deny your¬ selves ; bear your cross with Christ, and reign with him! My brother Hooper too, has a constant place in our prayers. May the good God give him the same zeal for holiness which he has given to a young gen¬ tleman of Rotterdam, who was with me last night. Pray for us, and espe¬ cially for, dear Mother, “ Your dutiful and affectionate Son, “ John Wesley.” Mr. Wesley being now informed of the opposition which his brother Charles met with at Frederica, on the 22d of March, 1736, wrote to him the following letter,—“ How different are the ways wherein we are led, yet I hope towards the same end! I have hitherto no opposition at all: all is smooth, and fair, and promising. Many seem to be awakened : all are full of respect and commendation. We cannot see any cloud gathering. But this calm cannot last; storms must come hither too : and let them come, when we are ready to meet them. “ It is strange so many of our friends should still trust in God ! I hope indeed, that, whoever may turn to the world, Mr. Tackner and Betty, with Mr. Hird’s family, and Mr. Burk, will zealously aim at the prize of their high calling. These especially I exhort, by the mercies of God, that they be not weary of well-doing, but that they labour more * His eldest sister Emilia. 172 THE LIFE OF and more to be meek and lowly, and daily to advance in the knowledge and love of God. I hope too Mr. Weston, Mr. Moore, Mr. Allen, and Mr. White, as well as Mr. Ward and his wife, continue in the same wise resolutions. I must not forget Mr. Reed, and Mr. Daubry, both of whom I left fully determined to shake off every weight, and with all their might to pursue the one thing needful. “ Condones omnes meas jamnunc habes , prceter istas quas misi. Ali¬ quot in pyxide sunt (de qua ne verbum scribis) und cum bibliis in quarto . Liber de disciplines , quam celerrime potes , remittendus est. Quanta est concordia fratrum: Tui volo et fratris B. ? * You have now all my Ser¬ mons, besides those which I have sent. Some are in the box (of which you say not a word,) together with the Bible in quarto. The book on discipline must be sent back as soon as possible. How great is the concord of brethren! I mean of thee and brother B.’ “ You are not, I think at liberty, spsystibou sis roc s^vyj, sus oi tfujxq>uXsra« tSs cwrcij Gxtii Os—to turn to the Gentiles , till your own countrymen shall ccLst you out If that period come soon, so much the better : only, in the mean while, reprove and exhort with all authority, even though all men should despise thee. A'ztfo/3'y]tf7aio'o» sis p-ap7upiov, ‘ It shall turn to thee for a testimony “1 conjure you, spare no time, no address or pains, to learn the true cause rvis tfockai oSwys rr\g |wa,f 1 of the former distress of my friend. , I much doubt you are in the right. M/j ysvotlo iva xru tfaXiv eqjuxpravrj. rprjyopsi (puXatftfs, us pockisu £uvt). Tpaips fxoi,