01 'cr the founding ef a Collegi & t/ti£_Colony? 'YJkLEe¥]M]I¥EIESinrYo • ILIIIBIBAIKy • DIVINITY SCHOOL TROWBRIDGE LIBRARY THE PLACE OF METHODISM IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH Br the same Author. Persecution In the Early Church. Large crown 8vo, sixth thousand, 3/6 net. 'The book deals with the subject as a whole more fully than any other English work.'— English Historical Review. The Evolntion of the monastic Ideal. Large crown 8vo, second thousand. 5/- net. ¦As an introduction to the whole subject the work is admirable.' — English Historical Review. 'A really trustworthy history of early mon^s.ticUni.' — The Nation. 'The best ot modern English books dealing with monasti cism in general.' — Westminster Gazette. The History ot Christian Thought to the Reformation. 3/6 net, 'A terse and able epitome ... as well as profoundly interesting.' — The Guardian. 'An admirable guide.' — Westminster Gazette. ' It would be impossible to give in a brief review any adequate conception of the richness or this volume.' — Aber deen Fret Press. The Foundation of Modern Religion. 3/6 net (The Cole Lectures for 1916, delivered before i he Y^naer- bilt University,) The Letters of John Bus. (Out of print.) Etc., etc. THE Plage of Methodism IN THE Catholic Church By HERBERT B. WORKMAN, D.Lit., D.D. Principal of the Westminster Training College, Senator of London University. THE METHODIST BOOK CONCERN NEW YORK — CINCINNATI Printed in England SO majoiem D«t slortam et Jn Oulcem Abemortam jftatcts WALTER P. WORKMAN SocU oltm tlrtn. Col!, (Jantab, Sum Cbtteto vtcturua ei tenebrts tn lucem mtfitavit anno salutte ivlti. Sept., mcmjvttt. PREFACE THIS little volume was originally published in 1909 as the Introduction to the New History of Methodism. For some years this work has been out of print. Many friends have urged me to print the Introduction in separate form, ascribing to it a value that is, possibly, the reflection of their friendship. By the kindness of the proprietors of the New History of Methodism this has been made possible. I have taken advantage of the reprint thoroughly to revise the whole, and in places considerably to expand the some what condensed original. But in all essential matters the reprint stands as when first written. This little volume attempts to do for Methodism on the side of thought what a companion volume, Methodism, written by me for the Cambridge Press in 191 2, essayed to accomplish in its historical setting. The two works are complementary. That this reprint should be dated on the eve of the assembly in London of the fifth Ecumenical Methodist Conference seems, to the author at least, of some significance. I desire also to acknowledge with gratitude criticisms received from my friends, Dr. Tasker and Dr. Piatt, of which I have availed myself in this reprint. H. B. W. Westminster, June 192 1. CREDO IN SPIRITUM SANCTUM, SANCTAM ECCLESIAM CATHOLICAM, SANCTORUM COMMUNIONEM All at once I looked up with terror. He was there. He himself with his human air. No face: only the sight Of a sweepy garment, vast and white, With a hem that I could recognize. My mind filled with the cataract, At one bound of the mighty fact. ' I remember, he did say Doubtless, that, to this world's end, Where two or three should meet and pray, He would be in the midst, their friend; Certainly he was there with them ! ' Browning, Christmas Eve. CONTENTS I. THE PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY . . p. n Limitations and reality — Especially in the history of the Church — Which posits the activities of the Holy Spirit — Ecclesiastical phenomena and a priori standards — Absurdity when applied to Methodism — The development of ideas — Our programme. II. THE 'IDEA' OF EXPERIENCE p. 16 Its history: the Medieval Church — The consciousness of soli darity — Realism and the individual — The Reformation — Calvinism — Deism — The Methodist reaction — Deism in France and Ger many — The Work of Schleiermacher — Methodism and the appeal to reason — The Reformers and authority; The Independents — The Latitudinarians — Wesley's union of authority and experience — Philosophy and experience — Wesley's philosophical position — His claim for introspection. 111. THE DOCTRINE OF ASSURANCE . p. 33 Antagonism to the doctrine — Its novelty — The Medieval Church — The Mystics — Wyclif— Calvin— -Luther's changed views — The Anglican Church. IV. THE HISTORIC WORK OF METHODISM . . p. 44 Modern science and experience— The dangers of Assurance— The appeal to collective experience— The historic Creeds— The danger of subjectivism; of egoism — The doctrine of Holiness- Causes of misunderstanding — Conversion — Wesley's Arminianism historically considered. V. METHODISM AND PREVIOUS MOVEMENTS . p. 57 Prophetism — Montanism — Monasticism — The Franciscan Revi val—Wesley and St. Francis— Contrast of characters— The call of the laity— Democratic significance— Similarity of methods— Identi fication of perfection and joy— Wyclif and Wesley— Wesley and Loyola — Modern Methodist doctrine of the Will. ro CONTENTS VI. METHODISM AND MYSTICISM . . p. 77 Wesley and the Mystics— Causes of his dislike— Similarity of Methodism and Mysticism — Points of difference — The doctrine of Stillness — The social factor — The truth of Quietism — The .need of Mysticism. VII. METHODISM AND PURITANISM p. 88 The danger of Dualism — Emancipation through the Oxford Movement — Other results of the Oxford Movement — The Lambeth Appeal — Methodism and other Nonconformist churches. VIII. METHODIST ORGANIZATION . p. 95 Wesley and Anglican Separation — Its Presbyterian character — Relation to primitive Church — Revival of the apostolate— Its cessation in Methodism with Coke — Place of women workers. IX. CONCLUSION . . . . p. 103 Where Christ is there is His Church. The Place of Methodism in the Catholic Church i THE PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY IN the writing of history few will deny that the formation of accurate generalizations is more difficult than the dis> covery or narration of the true facts. Many writers have been so impressed with the absence of law in human pheno mena, or rather with the difficulty of discerning in phenomena the regulative laws of progress, that they have denied the possibility of any philosophy of history worth the name. History, they assert, is but the fretful foam Of vehement action without scope or term. The need, they claim, is the accurate presentation of the facts themselves. From these facts each student must form his own conclusions; their value is little other than the reflection of his bias, or the articulation of hopes that are such stuff as dreams are made of. Whether a philosophy of history is possible it is not our its present purpose to discuss. Nevertheless we may maintain !>¦«¦*«>¦« that if it is impossible this is not because of the crooked reality. nature of the phenomena of history, but by reason of the limitations of the powers of the student. The study of a fact in nature demands the keenest observation of the trained intellect. But no intelligence can reconstruct more than the barest outlines of the past; again, we are all too much a part of the present, with its struggles and tumults, to understand fully that human comedy in which we our selves are the actors. In history, as in all human matters, we work in the dark, speculating upon, rather than proving, 12 THE PLACE OF METHODISM Eipeciall? in the history of the Church. Which posits the activitiesoi the Holy Spirit. the elemental passions and motives which have shaped the destinies of centuries. That the forces which underlie the activities of men are not blind, but rather are moving towards some goal that as yet we do not see, by ways which we cannot always discern, is, to the Christian at all events, a self-evident truth. If we cannot prove this conclu sion from our incomplete survey of history itself, if indeed such catastrophes as the fall of Rome in the fifth century, or the Great War that has recently devastated Europe, seem to militate against it, nevertheless we deduce it from the fundamental premisses of our faith. The kingdom of God may not come with observation; yet we believe that it is slowly rising in our midst. At times we catch glimpses of the laws which underlie its growth; we see the Master- builder laying deep the foundations, or building thereon an imperishable structure. And if there are hours of doubt and darkness, faith flings herself back on the promises of God: Was it vain, Thy Son's deep anguish, Shall the strong retain the spoil? If for the Christian these things are so in the region of general history, much more are they true of the history of the Church. For the history of the Church is but the story of the growth of the kingdom of God. However difficult may be the discovery of the laws of that growth, that such laws exist must be axiomatic for all who believe in the kingdom itself. For in the study of ecclesiastical history we find more than the mutable actions of weak or passionate humanity. That in the affairs of the Church human nature exists, passionate enough and mutable enough, we do not deny. But, in considering the final design, it is the Potter that counts even more than the clay; time may run slow, but the wheel and the Hand that turns it are fashioning an ordered result. We begin, then, our survey of the place of Methodism in the life-history of the Church with this postulate: that the history of the Church is the story of the workings of the Divine Potter; and that underlying all the phenomena of spiritual life and thought we may discern, if we will, the activities of the Holy Spirit. A sect of the thirteenth century known as Joachimists— or the believers in a work IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 13 called The Introduction to the Eternal Gospel^ — claimed that theirs was the age of the Holy Spirit, that the dispensation of the Father had been succeeded by that of the Son, who in His turn had given place to the Spirit. In one sense we may acknowledge that Joachim di Fiori and his followers spoke the truth. 'Nothing,' said Tertullian, 'is without stages, and the Holy Spirit is ever advancing towards better things.'2 We cannot understand any other stand point for the ecclesiastical historian. The story of the Church is not the dull record of strife, stagnation, decay, or change; nor can it be constructed by the postulation of a priori conditions to which all its phenomena must bend, or be rejected. In any scientific study of the dispensation of the Holy Spirit we must form our laws of the growth of the kingdom, not by enunciating a priori dogmas, but by observing the conditions under which He has worked who has produced in different forms and diverse manners that continuity of life of which in all ages He is the Lord and Giver. To the student approaching the study of Church history from this standpoint, the question of the place of Methodism, or for that matter of any form of faith, assumes a new meaning. The dogmatist, claiming a knowledge of essential truth as pretentious as it is unwarranted, is eager to judge a religious movement by the agreement of its record with certain a priori notions — for instance, the dogma of Apostolic Succession. The scientific historian, unable thus to brush aside concrete facts because they do not fit in with his prejudices, will patiently examine the phenomena in question as part of a vast field of similar phenomena, all of which in their different ways are manifestations of the one life. Every communion of thinkers, every phase of faith, has its place in and its relation to the great whole, and plays some part, it may be prolestant and transient merely, it may be of more lasting constructive value, in the progress and develop ment of the one Holy Catholic Church. To most of our readers these remarks will appear trite and commonplace. Unfortunately the dogmatism of certain theologians renders it necessary for us thus to claim that 1 In reality the work of a Spiritual Franciscan called Gherardo da Borgo San Donnino (1254). * On the Veiling of Virgins, c. 1. Ecclesiastical phenomenanot to be judged by a priori standards. The absurdity of this method when applied to Methodism. 14 THE PLACE OF METHODISM Methodism has a place in the development of the kingdom of God, and, so far as we can judge from existing phenomena, forms part of His divine plan. A Church which enfolds some forty million adherents, which is to-day the largest Protestant Church in the world, which has established itself in every quarter of the globe, and which in the great American Republic, especially in the Middle States, is the dominant religious power, is so manifestly a fact in the sphere of the spiritual that it must either have a meaning and place, or we must give up the attempt scientifically to study Church history from phenomena, and fall back upon the narrow horizons and attenuated conceptions of the a priori dogmatist. The develop- One other postulate is involved in our position. For us mant of ideas, the history of the Church is the record of development. With the final form that the life and doctrine of the Church may assume we are not concerned; this we are content to leave to the Will of the Spirit, Whose immanence in all spiritual matters we dare not deny. But running through the ages we see ever-developing purpose, ever-expanding ideas. The life of the Church is a life of ceaseless growth ; not only externally as witnessed in expanding borders, in missionary conquests, in nobler ethics; but internally, in her ideas of truth, and in the development of the dogmas in which she seeks to express them. As a result of this development the implicit of one age becomes the explicit of the next. Life in its richness is ever assuming varied forms, while conserving the one mystical unity. These new forms in their turn lead to the apprehension of deeper ideas. A concrete example will best show our meaning. The doctrine of the Trinity, so imperfectly apprehended in the second century, becomes the clear conviction of the fourth, acquiring in the so-called Nicene creed a terminology not the less valuable because the outcome of new needs forcing the Church for its definitions outside the Bible. Theories of Atonement which to Gregory the Great or to Anselm were convincing, necessarily gave place to other ideas. Gregory's puerile conception of a redemption from a debt due to Satan, with its repulsive addition that the Devil made a bad bargain, was seen to be akin to Gnostic Dualism. Anselm's Cur Deus Homo, with its wholly external and institutional conception, so satisfactory to the IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 15 institutional forensic age in which it was moulded, was followed by the larger idea of Abailard, with its emphasis upon reconciliation through personal fellowship with Christ.1 Thus every age, provided always that it has the necessary continuum of life, contributes something to the unfolding of the one eternal truth, to the making explicit the whole consciousness of God. The question therefore underlying any spiritual movement — Montanism, Monasticism, Puritan ism, Methodism, and the like — is not the existence of mechanical connexion with something which has preceded it, whether in the first or nineteenth centuries, but is the fact of its life ; the idea that the life embodies ; its con tribution, temporary or permanent, to the total of truth and to the heritage of mankind; the causes which have led it to outlive its usefulness or have enabled it to take a more enduring place among spiritual forces ; in a word, its fidelity to the call of the Spirit of God by Whose breath it was called into being, and Whose purposes its existence has fulfilled. That accomplished, it may pass away like Mosaism, or yield to higher forms which owe their life to its being. From this standpoint of the Idea which Methodism repre- Ow sents we would approach our present subject. After an £,r7). Methodistreaction. 22 THE PLACE OF METHODISM It* value shown by the history of Deism in France and Germany. and so to pray that whether God was changed or not their relations to God were for ever changed. There, is nothing mysterious, the Deist claimed, in Christianity. Wesley brought men face to face with the mystery of the Cross. Miracles, the Deist' added, are impossible, a manifest con tradiction. Wesley appealed to experience itself, and adduced the supreme miracle of life, the break in all con tinuity exemplified in every conversion of a sinner into a saint, that right-about-face of all the forces of a depraved character the explanation of which is beyond the ken of any merely natural system of ethics. That in the suppression of Deism as a force in English life Methodism played a leading part is fully acknowledged. This is seen the more clearly if we turn to the after career of Deism in France and Germany. In the works of Voltaire, Diderot, and Rousseau we gather the ripe fruit of the teach ing of Toland,1 Collins,2 Woolston,8 TindaL* and other English Deists. Almost all the writers of the Encyclopedic were profoundly indebted to their English predecessors, whose teaching they carried still further, applying its powerful dissolvents to the State as well as to religion. All that is needful, said Rousseau, is to return from an artificial civilization to primitive nature, to the happy ignorance, transparent manners, and simple virtues of uncultivated man. But in France there was no Evangelical Revival to deliver her from a movement that ultimately became an engine of destruction; no Wesley to show that not in primitive man, but. in the God-man alone would salvation be found. In Germany the effects of Deism were less violent but more lasting. There the Leibniz- Wolffian philosophy, with its system of microcosms and macrocosms, its predetermined harmonies and their optimistic fatalism, and its sentimental coquettings of the ego with its own self, had predisposed the thoughtful to welcome the deistical writers. ' Illumination ' (Aufklarung), to use the new name under which Deism masked, rapidly dominated the Lutheran Church, captured the schools and universities, 1 Christianity not Mysterious (1696). 2 A Discourse of the Grounds and Reasons of the Christian Religion (1724); Scheme of Literal Prophecy Considered (1737). 3 Six Discourses on the Miracles of our Saviour (1727-9). * Christianity as Old as Creation (1730; 2nd part never published). IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 23 crushed out Pietism — which, in spite of a respect less than just for thought and science, should yet be reverenced for the value it attached to the religion of experience — and reduced Protestant Germany by its ' theology of the under standing ' to shallow utilitarianism and irrational ration alism. The deliverance effected in England, on the intellectual side by Butler and on the spiritual by Wesley, in Germany was but partially accomplished by Kant and Herder. The teaching of Kant was a healthful rebuke to the low ideals of illuminism, but brought in an ethical legalism that knew nothing of the liberty of the sons of God, and a speculative pantheism that was destructive of all personal religion. But in Schleiermacher (1768- 1834) this pantheism became so leavened with Christianity as to lead the way to a more living apprehension of religion and the gospel. The influence of the German poet Herder (1 744-1 803) with his stress on the value of feeling in religion and his love of Christianity as the beautiful, will not for one moment compare with that of the English evangelist consumed with the passion for souls, not for the beautiful or cultured alone, but for common sinners. The work of Friedrich Schleiermacher,1 if only because The Work of of its vital affinities with the Methodist spirit, claims more Schleier- than the passing mention of his name. For in estimating the intellectual and spiritual forces which have released the modern world from the bondage of hard and sterile rationalism in religion the influence of Schleiermacher is easily the most powerful and pervasive. This man of encyclopaedic learning, with a dialectic skill rare in any age, and enshrined in a profoundly religious nature, ' the prince of theologians,' ' the father of modern scientific theology,' presents in his personality and teaching the dominant characteristics of Butler and Wesley combined. He was the first Protestant theologian to grasp clearly the significance lof the new situation created by the Evangelical Revival in which Methodism was born. His appeal to spiritual experience as fundamental in religion became in the dawn of the nineteenth century the start- 1 For the following paragraphs on Schleiermacher (pp. 23-26), I am indebted to Dr. F. Piatt, of the Wesleyan Theological College, Birmingham. 24 THE PLACE OF METHODISM ing point of the emphasis upon the ultimate values of the spiritual consciousness which is so characteristic of present-day religion and its theological interpretation. It is significant also that Wesley and Schleiermacher drew the influences that quickened their souls from a common source. For each of them fellowship with the Moravians — ' the truest Christian community which exists in the outward world,' as Schleiermacher asserts, — became a creative spiritual force. During the closing years of Wesley's life Schleiermacher was a pupil in the Moravian schools at Niesky and Barby. There he entered into the personal experiences of inward religion which in John Wesley had ripened earlier in the Aldersgate meeting house. For Schleiermacher these experiences, pruned by years of philosophic doubt and chastened by aesthetic friendships among the Romanticists, became the inspira tion of the epoch-making Addresses on Religion1 addressed to 'its cultured despisers,' delivered in Berlin in 1798. His These Addresses induce moods of the spiritual con- Addresses , sciousness not unlike the confidence inspired in the early Methodists by the singing of the hymns of Charles Wesley; they are prose poems glowing with the enthusiasm of a new discovery; a single note sounds through them; from beginning to end they announce that religion is the im mediate contact of the soul with God; religion is neither dogma nor rite; it is living experience, making its home below thought, even below consciousness, in the emotional nature of man and reaching God in the surrender of absolute dependence. Men felt that a new prophet had arisen as the warm glow of spiritual certainty touched their hearts and released their minds from the religion of rational propositions frozen hard in post-Reformation Symbolics. These Addresses, and the subsequent organiz ing by Schleiermacher of his philosophical interpretation of 'the theology of the warmed heart,' characteristic of Methodism, into his great theological system have done more than any other movement of thought to set the Methodist experience in the rank and succession of philosophies of religion now dominant in the modern mind. Every great era in philosophical or theological 1 Reden uber Die Religion, 1799, 2nd edition, 1806. Translated by Prof. Oman, Schleiermacher and Religion, 1893. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 25 thought has originated in a return of the human spirit to its own depths.1 Modern theological construction, in augurated on the one hand by Schleiermacher's Glaubens- lehre, and verified on the other by the Methodist witness and its doctrine of Assurance, is such a returning-point in the history of Christendom. Mediated through Ritschl and his school, the demonstration of Schleiermacher's philosophical theology and the main insistence of Wesley's evangelical Sermons, that Christianity cannot be realized except through the Christian experience, holds the allegiance of the most influential theological teachers of Great Britain and America in our own generation. The re juvenescence of Protestant theology is mainly due to these twin forces. The great gain of Schleiermacher's influence, which has been as creative in theology as Kant's has been in philosophy, is that the fruitage of the Methodist Revival has been garnered in a systematic teaching of the Christian faith for a generation which prefers psychological rather than metaphysical categories for interpreting to a scientific age the personal experience and verities of the Christian redemption. Schleiermacher had to face the same current miscon- His Affinities ceptions concerning religion which met Wesley. And *i* Wesley. he faced them by the same fresh appeal to the power of living experience. The first of these was that religion consists essentially in knowledge and was dependent for verification upon the syllogisms of formal logic. This was his inheritance from the elaborate system-builders of later Lutheranism. Men of his day held this heritage in open contempt. The " cultured despisers of religion ' to whom Schleiermacher spoke, naturally correspond with the similar group in England which had been reduced by the arid Deism of the day to the position Butler describes in the preface to the Analogy — ' it has come to be taken for granted by many persons that Christianity is not so much as a subject of inquiry, but that it is now at length discovered to be fictitious.' To meet these Schleier macher mingled with amazing skill and felicity the methods of Wesley and Butler. He preached 'heart religion' with 1 cf. the ' know thyself of Socrates, the Cogito ergo sum of Descartes, ' the categorical imperative ' of Kant, the empirical appeal of Locke and Hume. and Life. 26 THE PLACE OF METHODISM such persuasive fervour that thousands were brought into the personal experience of Christ as Saviour,1 and he delivered in the newly founded University of Berlin the Lectures on the philosophical interpretation of the direct experiences of the soul from which his system of theology was fashioned. The open secret of his teaching is the order in 'which these two — experience and theology—- stand. First comes the reality, which is religion; then its interpretation, which is theology; for Christianity cannot be antecedently demonstrated on purely rational grounds with a view to experience. Religion is first enjoyed then explained. Morality The second note in Schleiermacher's authority is his opposition to the current tendency to regard religion as merely an attitude subservient to morality. Here the inherited tradition was from Kant, who had ' reduced religion to a footnote to the text of morality.' Schleier macher claimed for religion a universal and necessary place in human nature such as Kant had claimed for the categorical imperative of the moral law. Morality issues from life; the religious feeling is the spring and strength of the moral emotions, whether personal or social, issuing in elevated character, or in ideals realized in fellowship. Fundamentally this religious feeling in Chris tianity is the consciousness of redemption. Only in a personality and community conscious of the Christian reconciliation can the moral order find its true standard and constraint. How surely these claims accord with Wesley's conceptions of salvation, and of Christian Per fection as Perfect Love, as also with his ideal of social fellowship in the common life of his societies, will be obvious. Wesley's dictum, 'You cannot go to heaven alone,' and Schleiermacher's insistence that the Christian society is essential for the Christian experience illustrate reciprocally true affinities between personal experience of religion and a community of holy love which, as the Kingdom of God, is the dream of the modern reformer. In estimating the world forces to which Methodism has contributed, and of which in turn it forms a part, it is fitting, therefore, to join Wesley and Schleiermacher, though they moved in strangely different spheres. 1 Among these was Neander, the ecclesiastical historian, who was thus led out of Judaism into evangelical Christianity. f IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 27 The Deistic controversy was not without its good side: Methodism the effort, however exaggerated and superficial, to make aml *e use of reason as the gift of God for the discovery and inves- "eason. tigation of truth. At the beginning of the eighteenth century it was still necessary to vindicate the right of every man to think freely. The error of Deism lay in the claim that unassisted reason was sufficient for all human needs. The danger of its opponents, especially if narrow-minded and illiterate men, was rather the exaltation of faith into some thing independent of reason. That Methodism has emanci pated itself from this danger, though not without toil and trouble, is due to the emphasis laid by Wesley throughout his life upon logic and argument. In the case of other leaders a religion that set out to overthrow the dogmas of rational ism by its vindication of the claims of a living experience might have degenerated into a disastrous appeal to emotion and feeling. But Wesley, by teaching his followers to think,1 set before his societies a better ideal. We must retrace our steps. There are other lines of The development in thought and life which we should note. We and"™hc-*ity ¦ have pointed out that the question of authority was never The settled by the Reformers, or rather was settled by them on Independents. lines contradictory in some respects to the root idea of the Reformation. It was impossible that such a settlement could be permanent. The Brownists in the reign of Eliza beth, the Independents of the Commonwealth, and the Angli can Latitudinarians of the seventeenth century showed the way to revolt. They claimed for the individual his com- pletest freedom — ' any man,' said Archbishop Tillotson, him self the son of a prosperous Nonconformist clothworker of Halifax, 'that hath the spirit of a man would break with any church in the world upon this single point,' — freedom no longer hampered by external authority, whether of organic Church, of priesthood, or even of inspired Book. To the authority of this last it is true that the Independents did lip-service. But by allowing each man to interpret the oracles according to his inner light they really reduced the objective to the subjective, and placed the seat of 1 See especially his Earnest Appeal to Men of Reason, in which Wesley refuses to be misled by the specious argument of the book of H. Dodwell (the younger), Christianity not founded on Argument 28 THE PLACE OF METHODISM authority, as did the Quakers, in the inner light. In this direction therefore we see once more the ground prepared for a later appeal to experience. Wesley's debt The appeal to experience of the Wesleys was bound to to them,— differ in many respects both from the broad sweep of the Platonists who called in Plotinus and other pagan philosophers, as well as from the appeal of the Friends to the inner light, and from that of the Independents to the individual; it reflected, in fact, as we might expect, the mixed sources from which it sprang as well as the religious experiences through which they had passed. The Wesleys were of sturdy Noncomformist ancestry on both sides; their grandfather and great-grandfather had lived harassed, distrustful lives under the infamous persecution Acts of the times. Their parents, it is true, had turned their faces on their kinsfolk, and taken refuge in the church which had persecuted them ; but their belief in the authority of that church is less apparent than the strong individuality of judgement which led them in early youth to take this step. The ' conventicle ' which Susanna Wesley, their mother, at one time held in the Epworth parsonage showed that though at the age of thirteen she had renounced her father's dissent, — or rather the Socinianism into which she had reasoned herself — she had not wholly forgotten in later life her early training. The sons, John and Charles, nurtured on High Church doctrine, recognized the authority of an organic Church, but could not tear out their Puritan inheritance of a strong belief in individual judgement, and in the value and reality of individual experience. And to the In this matter of authority we see one link between Wesley and the Latitudinarians, of whom Bishop Stilling- fleet and Archbishop Tillotson may be taken as the represen tatives. At first sight no two movements can seem further apart than that of the Cambridge Platonists, cultivating a cloistered piety and learning amid the upheaval of the England of the Civil War and the Restoration, and the active, uncloistered missionary life of Wesley. In this world of limitations intensity and breadth can rarely be found working together, and Methodism undoubtedly made for the first rather than the second. Nevertheless the Latitudinarians, in spite of their dread of all enthusiasm and their desire that all things might be conducted with Latitudin arians IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 29 ' moderation,' x in spite of what a contemporary called ' their virtuous mediocrity,' were not without their influence upon the Evangelical Revival. By their stress upon psychological as distinct from dogmatic interpretation they prepared the way for the appeal to experience. But the main work of the Latitudinarians was the advocacy of toleration and comprehension based upon their doctrine of the place of reason in religion. Now throughout life Wesley 'never ceased to be comparatively indifferent to orthodoxy, so long as a man had the witness of the Spirit, proving itself in works of faith.'2 Bishop Stillingfleet's Irenicum (1659) originally published in defence of compromise with the Presbyterians, led Wesley to believe in a Church constituted upon a broad and comprehensive basis, tolerant of different parties within its communion, including his own societies. He would have protested as strongly as Chillingworth (T1644) against minor differences being made the cause of loss of unity. We believe also that he would have approved of Tillotson's four cautions as to the proper limits within which the right of private judgement should be exercised.8 The archbishop's insistence upon the necessity of guides and teachers and of due submission to authority was carried out by Wesley in the formation of his societies. However much the two might have differed on the doctrines of the Atonement, of Future Punishment, or of Assurance — this last to Tillotson a matter of logical proof, or reasonable attestation — in their churchmanship the two were not far apart. Through Tillotson also, or rather through the spirit of the age of which Bishop Butler in this matter was the chief representative, there crept into Methodism an unwhole^ some emphasis upon the prudential value of religion. The self-love which Butler analysed in his Sermons (1726) the 'be good and then you will be happy ' of popular writers, was characteristic of a utilitarian and commonplace century, whose ' enthusiasts ' even had little sympathy with mysticism. From this inheritance Methodism is not yet wholly delivered. 1 See G. Burnet, History of My Own Time, ed, Oxford, 1823, i. 323 ff. For the Cambridge Platonists see Diet. Rel. Ethics, iii. 167 f. 5 C. J. Abbey and J. H. Overton, The English Church in the Eighteenth Century, (1878, 1881, 1896) i. 8, sTillotson, Works, ii. 265-7, 3° THE PLACE OF METHODISM Wesley'sonion of authority and experience, Philosophy in the eighteenthcentury. The conjunction of belief in the authority of an organic church with insistence upon the value and reality of individual experience as the final test, gives to Methodism its special position in the catholic Church. We have the root idea of the Independent joined to the root idea of the Anglican, a primary insistence upon the value of the subjective joined to the constant maintenance of the objective authority of the Church. To plead that Wesley himself held con tradictory views as to wherein lay the objective authority of the Church is futile. Whatever may be said about the logic of his churchmanship, — for he rowed one way while looking another, — it cannot be gainsaid that he insisted throughout life upon external authority as well as upon inner illumination. If his enemies claimed, not with out some grounds for their statement, that that external authority was but himself, they would really do him an injustice. Even in his most daring acts of assertion of individual authority, resulting at times, as in his ordination in 1 784 of bishops for America, in his violation of the canons of the Church to which he professed allegiance, he believed, rightly or wrongly, that he was but carrying out the powers given to him as a presbyter of that Church. In this double allegiance to the inner illumination as the final court of appeal and to an ill-defined outer authority we see one secret of the struggles which rent Methodism after Wesley's death, producing in England the different types of Methodism whose bringing together again into one is as much to be desired as it is difficult to accomplish. Only slowly, by mutual concession and under the pressure of a more imperious duty, do two principles so diverse in origin and tendency learn to accommodate themselves within one system. Thus far we have dwelt upon movements within the Church. But there was another movement the under standing of which is of the utmost importance. We allude to philosophy. That Wesley, though a keen logician, knew little or nothing of philosophy is beside the mark. The Zeitgeist, or spirit of the times, is potent alike in the uncon scious and the conscious; only here and there do we find souls able to withstand its influence — rari nantcs in gurgite vaslo. As a matter of fact Methodism in spite of itself was profoundly influenced by the drift of philosophy in England. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 31 Both alike appealed to experience; many would claim that both alike exaggerated that appeal by their carelessness in laying down the limits of its validity. The appeal of philosophy to experience originated with It* appeal to Descartes. In this matter, as in some of its issues, Cartesi- exPenence' anism is the counterpart to the Reformation. By his great dictum, Cogito ergo sum (' I think, therefore I am '), the French thinker laid the sure foundations of ontology. As some Methodist doctrines must find their ultimate justifica tion in this identification of consciousness and reality, it were interesting to speculate what would have been the result if the extension by Malebranche of the Cartesian doctrine into a mystical vision of all things in God had established itself in Wesley's Oxford under the lead of that warm admirer of Cambridge Platonism, John Norris of All Souls.1 But the speculation is useless, for Oxford had followed the lead of the Jesuits and banned Cartesianism,2 leaving English philosophy to develop the Cartesian argument on lines of reaction peculiar to itself. Hobbes and Locke twisted the whole matter into one of deductive psychology. In introspection, the examination of the contents of the mind and feelings, they had endeavoured to find the grounds of validity of thought and being. Such an effort was bound to lead to nescience, as indeed we see when Hume, with unflinching logic, carried on the work of Locke and Hobbes to its legitimate conclusion. Introspection as a method for the discovery of truth cannot but end, as he showed, in the demonstration of its own impotence. The analysis of mind resolves all into fleeting sensations, in which we can find neither permanence of the ego nor warrant of belief in aught objective, whether God, morality, or self.. Add to this that Hobbes by his divorce of religion from reason had made personal religion impossible. The ' waking ' of Kant from his ' dogmatic slumbers ' saved philosophy from the impasse into which the English school had thus led it. By his categories of thought and his appeal to ' the categorical imperative,' Kant demonstrated once more the necessity of recognizing the authority both in ontology and ethics of that which lies external to ourselves, the contents 1 See his Reason and Religion, 1689, pp. 187-194. 5 The Cambridge Platonists accepted Cartesjanism in the main. THE PLACE OF METHODISM Wesley's philosophicalposition. His claim for the validity of introspection. of which can never be discovered by analysis or introspection.1 But we are anticipating. Wesley knew nothing of Hume or Kant; the Zeitgeist influenced him before Hume had shown its logical issue, or Kant pointed out the more excel lent way. Nevertheless in any survey of English thought the place of Wesley cannot be neglected. For his appeal to experience was not, as Warburton and other writers of the eighteenth century urged, mere ' enthusiasm,' much less was it the outcome of mysticism. In this appeal he was at one, however unconsciously, with the English school, with an important difference. The philosophers had confined them selves too strictly to intellectual and sensational factors. Wesley pleaded, though not of course in so many words, for an enlargement so as to embrace spiritual phenomena of the content of the mind to which the philosophers applied their method of introspection. In modern terms, Wesley claimed that spiritual phenomena have a reality of their own which neither the scientist nor the psychologist can safely ignore. Be this last as it may, there can be no doubt of Wesley's claim for the validity of introspection. Untroubled by any doubt as to the limitations of his method, unconscious how completely he was in sympathy with the philosophic drift of the age, profoundly unaware that that drift must end in absolute nescience, Wesley made his appeal to spiritual experiences and feelings, and claimed that in these we may find objective reality. We see him time after time putting his own soul under the microscope of his relentless self-analysis, and accepting the results as the authoritative decisions of God. To the dangers of this theory, as afterwards illustrated by Hume, and to the cor rection which time has applied, we shall return later. 1 On this section the student may be referred to T. H. Green, Intro- duction to Hume's Treatise on Human Nature (1874); E. Caird, Kant. (1889); the article on Cartesianism by E. Caird in Encyc. Brit. (9th ed.); and the article on Descartes in Hastings' Diet, of Religion and Ethics, iv. 643 f. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH ni THE DOCTRINE OF ASSURANCE OJ WESLEY'S appeal to experience, though many-sided, is known in the main, in its theological, aspects, as the doctrine of Assurance. This was the fundamental contribution of Methodism to the life and thought of the Church. The question of the forgiveness of sins, of the soul's relation to God, even the existence of the Trinity itself, was answered by an appeal to one's own consciousness — not the universal consciousness of men, but the enlightened consciousness of the few, the spiritually-minded, to whom God had thus given a ' special understanding.'1 The manifest difficulty of this restriction Wesley did not attempt to meet; he would have fallen back for justifica tion on the authority of St. Paul.2 He proclaimed with no uncertain sound, not only that a man may know that his sins are forgiven, but that he has within himself the witness to his own relation to God.3 In his own conscious ness he may find the certitude of the things wherein he believes, of his pardon, adoption, and sonship. One re striction Wesley made, of great importance in its bearing on the religious controversies of the age : this consciousness was no assurance of future perseverance;4 it was strictly limited to the immediate content of the mind or soul. Methodists to-day, and, for that matter, Christians in Tne many other branches of the One Church, are so familiar fj^doetrin** with this position, at any rate in some of its bearings, that they find it difficult to account for the antagonism which the doctrine at first aroused. They hardly realize how new it was as a working principle of life. They forget the time it took for Wesley himself to learn the great truth. The disgust of the age with the first advocates of this doctrine 1 Methodist Hymn-Book (1904), No. 120. In all references to the Hymn-Book I refer only, unless otherwise stated, to hymns of John or Charles Wesley or hymns approved and adopted by them. 2 1 Cor. ii. 6; et passim. 5 Hymn-Book, 346, 368. * Hymn-Book, 448 : ' Ah I Lord, with trembling I confess A gracious soul may fall from grace.' 3 34 THE PLACE OF METHODISM is not difficult to explain. Cultured society was largely under the domination of the Deists. Religious certitude in the sense of inward experience of the Holy Spirit's working was not professed even by the godly. By the majority of the writers of the age, including such Churchmen as War- burton, all reference to the inner light of spiritual discern ment was regarded with distrust as 'enthusiasm.' But here were men, not many wise, not many noble, but the base-born and erstwhile ungodly, the stonemason Nelson,1 the cobbler Olivers, common • soldiers as Haime, Stani- forth and Bond, swearers and lewd livers as the miners of Kingswood, who ran full tilt at the fundamental doctrine of Deism, as they sang, with no uncertain sound : My God, I am Thine, What a comfort divine, What a blessing to know that my Jesus is mine; or unconsciously unfolded their philosophy: We know, by faith we surely know, The Son of God is come, Is manifested here below, And makes our hearts His home ; To us He hath, in special love, An understanding given, To recognize Him from above The Lord of earth and heaven. Butler and All this was directly contrary to the spirit of the age, Locke. ag expressed by Locke in the well-known passage that opens his chapter on ' Enthusiasm,' with its warning that We must not entertain any proposition with greater assurance than the prop it is built upon will warrant. Whosoever goes beyond this measure of assent, it is plain, receives not truth in the love of it; loves not truth for truth's sake, but for some other by-end. For the evidence that any proposition is true (except such as are self- evident) lying only in the proof a man has of it, what soever degrees of assent he affords it beyond the degree of that evidence, it is plain that all the surplusage of assurance is owing to some other affection, and not to the love of truth.2 1 For the story of Nelson and others the student should read the invaluable Lives of the Early Methodist Preachers (6 vols., 1865), re-issued as Wesley's Veterans (7 vols., 191 4). 2 Human Understanding, Bk. iv. c. xix. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 35 Nor was it in accord with the mere probabilism of Butler's Analogy. To some extent also the antipathy to the doctrine was political. The staunch Toryism of the age felt that there was danger to the Constitution in the presumption of ignorant underlings to a knowledge denied to their betters. We see this clearly in the well-known letter of the Duchess of Buckingham, the illegitimate daughter of James II., to the Countess of Huntingdon: I thank your ladyship for the information concerning the Methodist preaching; their doctrines are most repul sive, and strongly tinctured with impertinence and disrespect towards their superiors, in perpetually endea vouring to level all ranks and to do away with all distinctions, as it is monstrous to be told that you have a heart as sinful as the common wretches that crawl on the earth. This is highly offensive and insulting. After this we are not surprised to learn that the Methodist Edward Greenfield of St. Just, Cornwall, who had been notorious for cursing, swearing and all manner of wickedness, after his conversion was 'adjudged to banishment.' Wesley, who records this, inquired the reason from 'a little gentleman at St. Just. He said: Why, the man is well enough in other things, but his impudence the gentlemen cannot stand. Why, sir, he says he knows his sins are forgiven.' At first, also, Wesley, as he acknowledged in his old age, preached the doctrine in an uncharitable and exagger ated form: j j ! j n i |<$| [#'TH When fifty years ago my brother Charles and I, in the simplicity of our hearts, taught the people that unless they knew their sins were forgiven they were under the wrath and curse of God, I marvel they did not stone us. But this last was precisely what many of the people at tempted. Nor must we overlook the antipathy of the Englishman Novelty of in every age to a new idea, especially in the realm of tne doctrine. religion. To the German new ideas are as the wine of life, and he is in danger of becoming intoxicated by them; the average Englishman on the contrary shuns them as poison. And the novelty of this idea cannot be gainsaid. Never before in the history of the Church since the writings of St. Paul and the exultant ' we know ' of the Epistle of 36 THE PLACE OF METHODISM St. John,1 had the doctrines of Assurance been so clearly enunciated. Th. This last point is so important that we shall do well Medieval to pause for a moment and examine the matter. As re- Chureh. gards the position of the Medieval Church there can be no mistake. St. Augustine, it is true, whom Harnack rightly calls the first real psychologist,2 had so described his own experiences that all succeeding generations have found in his Confessions the history of their own wanderings. But it was not the experiences of St. Augustine with his emphasis on the inward push of the soul God ward that appealed to the medieval Church, but his conviction of an imperial system as the instrument of grace in the midst of a ruined world. To the medieval Church the doctrine of Assurance was altogether contradictory to the whole scheme of indulgence, penance, purgatory, and sacerdo talism in general by which salvation was conditioned. We see this clearly brought out in the tale of one of the saints and doctors of the Church, Gregory the Great, to whom a lady of the bedchamber at the court of Constantinople wrote to say that she could have no peace until Gregory assured her that it was revealed to him that her sins were forgiven. To this the pope replied that she had required of him a matter that was both difficult and unprofitable — because thou oughtest not to become secure about thy sins, except when, in the last day of thy life, thou shalt be able no longer to bewail them. But until that day comes, thou oughtest, ever suspicious and ever fearful, to be afraid of faults and wash them with daily tears.3 Any other view, in fact, would have been destructive of the priestly machinery of Rome, and incompatible with the emphasis of probation and merit which Gregory did so much to establish. In the official theological textbook of the Middle Ages, Peter Lombard's Sentences, we are expressly warned that ' to hope for anything without merit is not hope but presumption.'4 As such the doctrine of Assurance received the condemnation of the Council of *I John, i. i, 5; ii. 3, 13, 14, 20, 27; iii. 1, 2, 14, 19; iv. 2, 6, 16; v. 2, 13, 18, 19, 20. 2 Hist. Dog. (3rd ed. 1905) v. 112. % Epp. vii. 25. 4 Sentences, bk. iv„ dist. t6, 1, IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 37 Trent in spite of the pleading of the Scotist Ambrosius Katherinus for the recognition of the certitudo gratiae against the Thomists:1 No one (ran the decree) can know with a certainty of faith which cannot be subject to illusion, that he has obtained the grace of God . . Except by special revela tion no one can know whom God hath elected.5 In modern Romanism, as developed by Alphonso Liguori, the most influential Roman theologian of the last three centuries, Assurance, it is true, has a place; but it is the assurance which comes from the absolute authority of a father-confessor.3 In this survey of the medieval Church we have been too sweeping. We have forgotten the Mystics. With the Mystics a doctrine of Assurance was a necessity; it was part of their constant protest that the kingdom of heaven is within.4 But to the Mystics, and Wesley's debt to them, we shall return later. If from the Roman Church we turn to the Reformers Wyclif. we find the same result, though in a different form. Of this no instance can be more instructive than Wyclif, who, however, in this was not original, taking his doctrine for the most part from Archbishop Bradwardine5 and St. Augustine. One of the mistakes of Wyclif's scholastic method is to identify too completely knowing and being; but knowing with him is a purely intellectual act, totally distinct from consciousness or assurance. As with Wyclif " charity ' is the correlative of ' grace,' we are not surprised that he should claim that ' working by right life, ended after God's will, maketh a man God's child'; but the assurance of this he denies even more vehemently than St. Gregory. 1 Thomas Aquinas, following St. Gregory, made certainty the result of a divine revelation, ' revelat Deus hoc aliquando aliquibus ex speciali privilegio ' (Summa, II, i., qu. 112, art. 5). See the admir able article by Dr. Tasker on Certainty in Diet. Relig. Ethics, iii. 325 f- 2 Concil. Trident, vi. cc. 9, 12, 13. Cf. J. A. Moehler, Symbolism (Eng. Trans., 1894,) 154 ff. 5. Paul craint de n'estre pas sauve is the title of a work by the Jesuit Richeome (Oeuvres, 1628, i. 627). 3 Harnack, History of Dogma, vii. 108. * See infra p. 80. 5 See Bradwardine's de Causa Dei contra Pelagium, ed. H. Savile, itig. 38 THE PLACE OF METHODISM No man, he claims, not even a pope, ' wots whether he be of the church, or whether he be a limb of the fiend.' As a corollary he denies that 'the church can be called the whole body (universitas) of faithful travellers,' nor will he allow that 'Christ is the head of all men, both of the faithful and the unfaithful' as Thomas Aquinas had done, but claims that this headship is restricted to the predes tinate. All that he will grant is that 'as each man shall hope that he be safe in bliss, so he should suppose that he be a limb of Holy Church.' The stern doctrines of Wyclif with his belief, inherited from Bradwardine, of God's unchangeableness in love or hate allowed him no other outlook. Hus in Bohemia — in this as in so much else the mere echo of Wyclif — and the later Lollards in England, followed his lead.1 Calvin. With Calvin as with Wyclif a logical doctrine of Assur ance is impossible; for inasmuch as the source of salva tion is external, in the immutable decrees, the certitude of salvation must take the form of a special external revelation, as in the theology of Gregory the Great and Thomas Aquinas. A revelation of election to damnation is con tradictory to the constituents of human nature — that way madness lies. A consciousness of election to salvation is possible; 'the enjoyment of their election is in some measure communicated ' to the elect when they are called, and, according to the Westminster Confession : this certainty is not a bare, conjectural, and probable persuasion, grounded upon a fallible hope, but an infallible assurance of faith. But the Helvetic Confession shows the loophole for doubt : ' If thou believest and art in Christ, hold without doubt that thou art elect.' Now, Calvin's conception of human nature necessitates the possibility of illusion, and this leads, as Calvin owns, to the tortures of anxiety, ' the constant struggle of the faithful with their own distrust.' ' If we attempt to penetrate to the secret ordination of God we shall be engulfed in that profound abyss.' Thus the whole doctrine of Assurance is given away, for, as Calvin owns, the 1 For a fuller analysis of the teaching of Wyclif see my Dawn of the Reformation,, i. 176, 215, also my article on Wyclif in Hastings, Did. of Religion and Ethics. I hope shortly to publish a com prehensive examination of the life and teaching of Wyclif. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 39 believer cannot help asking the question, ' What proof have we of our election?' Hence the Westminster Confession, and the Savoy Declaration of 1658 after it, claim that — this infallible assurance doth not so belong to the essence of faith, but that a true believer may wait long, and conflict with many difficulties, before he be partaker of it.1 When we turn to Luther we are met with a difficulty. Luther. The doctrine of Assurance seems at first sight clearly bound up alike with Luther's revolt against the medieval doctrine and practice of merit, and with his cardinal principle of justification by faith. What, for instance, could be nearer the Methodist doctrine of Assurance than the following: Faith is a living deliberate confidence in the grace of God, so certain that for it one could die a thousand deaths. And such confidence and knowledge of divine grace makes us joyous, intrepid, and cheerful towards God and all creation. It is impossible for one who hopes in God not to rejoice; even if the world falls to wreck he will be undismayed under the ruins. Thou must have heaven and be saved already before thou canst do good works. But even more than in individual passages the doctrine of Assurance is expressed in the salient facts of Luther's spiritual life. With the great German in his strength, as any reader of his Letters* may see for himself, religion is not so much a doctrine as an experience, the certainty that by faith in Jesus Christ he had a gracious God. We see him perhaps at his best in his touching letter of consolation to his mother in her last illness: You, dear mother, know the foundation of your blessedness, Christ Jesus, who will never fail us, for He is the saviour of all who, in their deep need, call upon His name . . So we may be full of joy, and when sin frightens us we may say, ' I will not listen to thy alarms, 1 See Calvin, Op. iii. 24, § 3, fol. 353, c. 2, § 17, fol. 198, or the Consensus Genevensis, I Jan. 1552, in B. J. Kidd, Docs, of the Con tinental Reformation (191 1) 643 f. W. Walker, Creeds of Congreg ationalism (1893), p. 385.. * These can now be read in a selected English edition, translated by Margaret A. Currie (1908). views of faith. 40 THE PLACE OF METHODISM but to my Saviours word of consolation. This is my stay; upon it I will depend. It will not deceive me.1 With Luther all real life and blessedness is the outflow of this certainty. Moreover his great historic cry at Worms, ' Gott helfe mir, Ich kann nicht anders,' is the eternal voice of humanity, falling back upon the fundamental experiences of the soul as the justification of action. H" "^"P^ Why, then, it may justly be asked, did not the doctrine of Assurance become with Luther not merely a recognized part of Protestant theology, but a real factor in the life of the Protestant churches? And probably it would have so become had Luther always been careful to emphasize the truth he undoubtedly held in his better moments, that faith is no mere intellectual acceptance of Christ and His atoning death, even though that acceptance be of a strictly ' apprehensive ' or personal kind, but involves a spiritual incorporation of the soul with his Saviour. But Luther's conflict with the ' Enthusiasts ' and Anabaptists as well as his controversy with Zwingli led to a disastrous obscura tion in his primary positions. Even in his lifetime there were some who regarded his teaching on religious certainty as defective. As Luther grew older his conception of faith became more and more intellectual, till at last it com prised little beyond the assent of the mind to certain articles of an orthodox creed. In his later years Luther's theology grew almost as scholastic as that of the Scotists and Thomists whom he set out to slay, and Melanchthon pur sued still farther the same mischievous course. When faith is thus reduced to the assent of the intellect it ceases to have that guarantee or assurance which faith can have only when it is the consciousness of the soul transformed with the passion of love. This is seen clearly when we remember that the identification of faith and belief generally leads to the degradation of morals into a subordinate place — as alas! in that great blot upon the character of Luther, his justification of the bigamy of Philip of Hesse. But when actions become a secondary element in salvation, assurance — a consciousness resulting from the whole life, one of the elements in which, as Wesley would phrase it, is the witness 1 Currie op. cit., 265; cf. the strong Arminian tone of his letter of July 20, 1528, to one doubting his el«cti»n to eternal life, it. 17* f. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 41 of our own spirit1 — is bound to be eliminated. The later history of the Lutheran Church, in many of its aspects, is the record of the desolation caused by this narrowing faith to pure doctrine. Many Lutheran theologians have dwelt on the ' testimonium Spiritus Sancti, less as the inward assurance of personal salvation than as the guarantee of the truth of Scripture, and indeed of Christian theology.'3 Nor must we forget that, in his battle with Erasmus, Luther, exaggerating the truth which lay so near to his heart of salvation by grace without merit, affirmed in almost reck less language the impotence of the will. Predestination by divine grace, he declared, was unconditional. All things which happen happen by necessity, the treachery of Judas as well as the conversion of St. Paul, Melanchthon, it is true, who hated extremes, broke away from this disastrous theory of the complete passivity of man in conversion and the deadness of his will by propounding his doctrine of synergism, a sublimated type of semi-Pelagianism in which he gave to the human will the power of seeking after grace. But the mischief of degrading faith into assent was already accomplished.3 When we turn from the Continental Reformers to the Anglican Anglican Church we meet with the same difficulty as in Cnuron' the case of Luther. The doctrine of Assurance is undoubt- 1 Wesley defines this as ' the testimony of our own conscience that G°d hath given us to be holy of heart, and holy in outward conversation. It is a consciousness of our having received in and by the spirit of adoption the tempers mentioned in the word of God as belonging to His adopted children.' 2 Tasker, op. cit., 327, who, however, points out the exceptional place given to the doctrine by the Erlangen School, especially F. H. R. von Frank in his System of Christian Certitude (Eng. trans. 1886). Frank seems to have gone so far as to derive Christian truth from Christian certainty. 3 For a study of Luther's doctrine I may refer to C. Beard, Reforma tion in its Relation to Modern Thought, 3rd ed. 132 ff. ; Luther, Works, ed. Walch, x. 1314, 1341, viii. 2623 ff., espec. viii. 2660. Also Augsburg Confess, art. iv. ; Harnack, Hist. Dogma, vii. 168-267. T. M. Lindsay, History of the Reformation (1906), i. 426-88;, R. Seeberg, Dogmengeschichie, and F. Loofs, Leitfaden zum Stud. d. Dogm. (1906). In passing one may note that Wesley in his treatment of Luther shows little understanding or sympathy (cf. Journal, ed. 1864, i. 29*). 42 THE PLACE OF METHODISM edly taught, at any rate inferentially, both by its great divines and in its Homilies} As illustrations we may give the following from the Homilies: The Spirit which God hath given us to assure us that we are the sons of God, to enable us to call upon Him as our Father. Have a sure and constant faith ; not only that the death of Christ is available for all the world, but that He hath made a full and sufficient sacrifice for thee, a perfect cleansing of thy sins, so that thou mayest say with the apostle, ' He loved thee and gave Himself for thee.' For this is to make Christ thine own, and to apply His merits unto thyself. Faith is a sure trust and confidence that God both hath forgiven and will forgive our sins. Even more striking is a passage in Hooker which seems to have escaped Wesley's notice: God hath left us infallible evidence whereby we may at any time give true and righteous sentence upon our selves. We cannot examine the hearts of other men, we may our own. ' That we have passed from death to life, we know it,' saith St. John, 'because we love our brethren. I trust, beloved, we know that we are not reprobates, because our spirit doth bear us record that the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ is in us.2 From such statements as the above, which might easily be multiplied, the transition is not great to the Methodist doctrine of Assurance : That persuasion which is given by the Holy Spirit to penitent and believing persons, that they are now ac cepted of God, pardoned and adopted into God's family. Nor must we overlook the thousands of lives in whom assur ance was a veritable fact. ' The inward witness, son,' said the dying Samuel Wesley to his son John, 'the inward witness, this is the proof, the strongest proof of Christianity.' Nevertheless the fact remains that, whatever may have been the doctrine, explicit or implicit, of the Anglican Church, Wesley's doctrine of Assurance was looked upon as a dangerous innovation, the formulation of a new heresy, or 1 Wesley gives several passages in his Earnest Appeal and Farther Appeal. In 1739 he issued a tract containing all these passages, which ran through thirteen editions before 1770, 2R. Hooker, Works, ed. Keble (1874), iii. 673. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 43 the introduction on a wider basis of the Quaker doctrine of the ' Inner Light.' Even leaders in the Church joined in the popular outcry, and that not merely because of cer tain exaggerations which they claimed to detect in Wesley's teaching. In reality the whole story forms another illus tration of the familiar truth, that it is not the same thing for an article of faith tc have a place in the creeds and formularies of a Church, and for that same article to be a living factor in its life. The working creeds of a Church are by no means the full contents of its official symbols. 44 THE PLACE OF METHODISM IV, THE HISTORIC WORK OF METHODISM Modern science and the appeal to experience. In this appeal to experience — especially by his doctrine of Assurance, taken in the main, without undue stress upon mere detail — we believe that Wesley has made a lasting contribution to the life and thought of the universal Church. In this appeal we find the historic work and place of Methodism. To this appeal we trace the outburst of exul tant song which revolutionized the worship of all English churches. Once let Methodism as a church lose this note, and its historic justification has perished. This conscious ness has given to its preaching its greatest power, is the explanation of its fervid evangelistic appeals, lies at the root of its special institution of the class-meeting, is the essential qualification demanded from all candidates for its ministry, and is one of the secrets of its hold upon the masses. In this emphasis of experience lies also one cause of the tendency towards superficial disintegration so un fortunately illustrated in the history of Methodism in England in the half century after Wesley's death. For a living, vivid experience is naturally unwilling to be regulated by rules and authority or to be cramped within the bounds of the institution ; in other words, the religion of experience is the complete expression of that individualism the desire for which, as we have already seen, lay at the root of the Reformation. The religion of experience- battles everywhere with authority, with the dogmas of infallibility, and the dogmas of agnosticism, with the dogmas of arrogant assertion, and the dogmas of confi dent denial.1 Before we proceed to consider the dangers and safeguards of the doctrine of Assurance, it may be well to point out how completely the emphasis placed by Wesley upon ex perience is in accord with the best scientific thought of the times. The fact that two centuries ago Locke could deny the certainty of physical knowledge, and insist that such 1 C. J. Little, Christianity and the Nineteenth Century (1902), 48. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 45 knowledge hardly went beyond particular observations and vague probabilities, has become almost incredible to a generation which builds upon science as though it were the rock of ages. We see also in the doctrine another illustration of what Prof. James calls ' the admirable con- gruity of Protestant theology with the structure of the mind.'1 If we have read aright the drift of thought in the last thirty years, especially as set out in the writings of T. H. Green and of Bergson, it has set in steadily towards the recognition of the reality and value of the phenomena of experience. Green's doctrine of the reproduction of the Eternal Consciousness in our consciousness has its echo in the lives of thousands who could never understand his Prolegomena to Ethics. Tolstoy is now not alone in his claim that faith is among the forces by which men live, ' without which I myself would not exist.' The days when belief was explained as but the result of the association of ideas, or when religion might be dismissed in the words of Grant Allen as a ' grotesque fungoid growth ' which has some how clustered round the primeval thread of ancestor wor ship, have gone, we trust for ever. The indifference of the scientist has given place to the more scientific interest of the student of psychology and sociology. No thinker to-day would deny the persistence and reality of religious pheno mena, the part they play and have played in the evolution of society, and in the development of the individual. The subjective factors in the world of experience cannot be omitted or suppressed for the sake of the objective. More over thinkers to-day distinguish more clearly than did their forerunners between logical certainty and psychological certitude. It is in this last and not in the first that assur ance finds its basis.8 Nor would the scientist turn to-day, as did Herbert Spencer, for the explanation of the ecstasy of a St. Paul or of a St. Francis, the sublime indifference of the martyrs, the fervid zeal of a Xavier or Wesley, to the details of ghost and ancestor worship amid primitive savages. As Prof. James has shown us, it would be just as sensible to ' call religion an aberration of the digestive function ' or a 1 W. James, Varieties of Religious Experience (1902), 244. 3 See Diet. Relig. and Ethics, iii. 320 f. Article by H. Barker on ' Certainty.' 46 THE PLACE OF METHODISM ' perversion of the respiratory organs.' ' The plain truth is,' he goes on to add, 'that to interpret religion one must in the end look at the immediate content of the religious con sciousness.' Even ' institutional religion ' must find, in the long run, its warrant here; any church, however great the emphasis it places upon organization as a means to an end, is ultimately founded upon the consciousness of personal communion with the divine, and the reality of that con sciousness.1 But the further demonstration of this truth lies outside our immediate purpose, and would require an essay to itself. The dangers The dangers of the doctrine of Assurance lie on the sur- of A«»urance. face ancj have often been pointed out by critics. Some have so phrased it, though not in official documents, as to amount to the claim that a place must be conceded to the emotions and desires in the determination of belief. Such a claim ends in sheer individualism, in a superstruc ture based upon mere subjectivity, in a religion which is ever watching under the microscope its own motions with a tireless suspicion which amounts to a negation of the grace of God. Wesley, more by accident than design, or rather, in the providence of God, effectually prevented this by making the chief court of the appeal a social court. In his system of class-meetings the basal principle of individual experience was saved from excess by the correction given through the experience of others, as well as by the spiritual obedience demanded by the whole organization and frame work of his societies. Individual experience is thus balanced in the first instance by social fellowship, and that again by connexionalism. In an effective practical fashion the experience first of a wider circle and then of the whole church is brought to bear upon the isolated feelings of the separate member, thus giving to religious certainty both an objective and a subjective basis. If it be argued that connexionalism and experience lie in different spheres, one in the world of thought, the other a matter of organization, the answer of every Methodist would be none the less certain. As the body conditions the spirit, so the organiza tion controls, modifies, and co-ordinates individual experi ence, not so much by ex cathedra utterances, or formal claim, as by the sheer practical necessities of life. To 1 S«e James, oi>. cit., cc. i, 2, and 20. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 47 translate the same into philosophic phrase: in the working of Methodism the appeal to individual experience is ever checked and balanced by the appeal to collective experience, though Methodism would reject the claim of Clasen and the Ritschlian school, that the guarantee of assurance for the individual is given by his membership in the organized whole.1 For the collective experience of the Church is as much The appeal a reality as the experience of the individual soul. There experience™ was a philosophy, the full fruition of which appeared in the middle years of the nineteenth century, which looked upon the larger organizations of life, e.g. the State and the Church, as little more than collections of individuals, and which attempted to build up the laws of their growth from an analysis, more or less accurate, of the laws of growth of their component parts. To-day thinkers of all schools recognize that underlying this method there was a great fallacy. Social organizations are not collections of atoms; they have a life of their own, a soul of their own, and conditions of growth of their own. There is a psychology of the mob, but this is not reached by a study of the psychology of the individuals which make it up. So with the State, whose oversold is far away the most important part in its life and is something far larger than the sum of its parts. The appreciation of this great truth of the soul of the organization lies at the root of all modern Economics and Sociology.2 So with the Church, which in a far wider and deeper sense than the State is an organization — not the sum total of its unrelated individuals, but a unity, animated and controlled by the one ever-expanding life of the Spirit. The mystery of this life and unity, and the laws of its growth, are not yet revealed unto us. But historians who have neglected this biological concept have thereby been led into hopeless anachronisms, judging too much from the standpoint of their own age, instead of from that of the spirit which animated the past. Thus Gibbon failed to understand the Crusades; while the so-called Dark Ages became unintelligible because no attempt was made to iSee Tasker, op. cit., 330, and Tasker, Spiritual Religion (loor), 132 f. 2 Blindness to this truth led the older economists to that monstrous concept, the Economic Man. 48 THE PLACE OF METHODISM interpret them in terms of their own thinking and not by the shibboleths of a more ' illuminated ' day. Dogmatists, too, have only succeeded in dismembering the Body of Christ by laying down a priori conditions out of touch with facts. But the reality of the life of the Catholic Church, the validity and growth of its experience, become manifest to all who have turned from the profitless wrangle of conflict ing organizations to the study of the soul-history of the saints of God. But here again we touch a large subject, into which, however fascinating, we cannot further enter. In the sharper enunciation of this appeal to collective , experience we find the main drift of present-day Methodist thought and development. The doctrine of the Church, the value of the judgement and experience of the Church in contrast to the isolated individual, the continuity of the one divine life running through all the centuries, the need of clearer recognition of an objective value in the sacra ments as the ordinances of Christ — to these great truths of collective experience, Methodism to-day pays an ever- increasing attention. And in this appeal to collective experience Methodism discovers a new warrant for its own beliefs. The experiences of the children of God in every age are much the same, though the language in which they are expressed may vary. Few things are so unchanging as the soul of man and its deeper utterances. Moreover, just as in science the test of reality is our power to repeat our experiments, so also in religion. The communion of saints is not merely the reproduction but the verification of ex perience. Hence Methodism is rightly undisturbed by the higher criticism of the Bible. Its results for the most part bear only on the structure and framework of the records; they often bring out into greater relief the eternal reality of the experiences of the soul which the Book contains and which have given to it perennial value. The Histeric The appeal to experience will also explain the standpoint Creed*. tnat Methodism takes as regards the two historic creeds of the Church, the Latin symbol known as the Apostles' Creed, and the Eastern symbol, framed at Nicea in 325 and en larged at Constantinople in 381. These she accepts, not because they were the work of a council, or even because of their antiquity, but because they express the funda mental facts of experience and life. We may take as an IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 49 illustration the Nicene Creed. There is no creed, with the exception of the hymn mistakenly associated with the name of Athanasius, which at first sight seems more com pletely the expression of pure dialectics, the outcome of Hellenistic logic attempting to formulate a system of specu lative theology. But such an explanation is totally inade quate, and has only arisen from the excessive abstraction of thought from life. In reality the doctrines of Nicea were the direct result of the richness and breadth of the spiritual experiences which men felt they owed to their Saviour. Nicea, studied in connexion with the three hundred years that preceded it, becomes no longer the arena of contending syllogisms but a crown laid at the feet of the triumphant Christ. At Nicea many of the bishops of the dominant party still bore in their persons the marks of the sufferings they had endured for their Lord. That the Church in,' the hour of her triumph should consent to abate in the smallest iota the full rights of Christ was impossible. Veterans do not so easily forget their General. Now the test of any definition whether in physics or theology is its power of fitting in with the facts of life. Judged by this test the theologians of Nicea may be indifferent to criticism. Poor at best as the definitions must be in which they attempted to express all that Christ had meant to them, yet their definitions have survived the wear and tear of centuries because in a real way they embodied vital experiences. The twentieth century may not approve of fourth-century metaphysics, and may be bewildered by terms, some of which have lost their meaning. Nevertheless the creeds of Nicea and Chalcedon live because they are among the affirmatives and imperatives which from time to time surge up in consciousness, and which carry a larger authority than belongs to any dialectic.1 In another direction also has the correction of experience The danger come. The microscopic self-analysis in which Wesley ?' _*. . r . J . , J lectivisn revelled in his Oxford days, and from which he was never 1 The most difficult clause of the Apostles' Creed is the Descent into Hades. This seems to have been first added at Aquileia. but for what purpose is not now clear. Probably it was intended to guard the reality of Christ's death against the subtle docetism of the early fourth century. In this sense it still contains elements of truth and life (A. C. McGiffert, The Apostles' Creed, 1902, pp. 191 f.) -T jectivism. 50 THE PLACE OF METHODISM wholly free, even in his calmer old age, was at one time the bane of some of his followers. But this subjectivism has slowly given place to a larger conception of the grace whereby we are saved — ' for if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart and knoweth all things.' Assur ance does not mean the reduction of the eternal Cross and its effects in time to the fluctuating motions of our minds, ' little more,' as Coleridge put it, ' than a strong pulse or throb of sensibility, accompanying the vehement volition of acquiescence.' Assurance is rather the clear consciousness of the tremendous objective force greater than ourselves, 'foreknown indeed before the foundation of the world,' which God ' manifested at the end of the times for our sake,' and which, by appropriation or assimilation, has entered into our own lives. Assurance thus becomes one with faith; for faith has ceased to be intellectual or emotional assent, and has become a rejoicing consciousness; Christ's redemption a realized human experience. Pusey's sneer against ' justification by feeling ' is altogether wide of the mark. From any such danger Wesley was delivered by his visit to the Moravians at Herrnhut. There he learned from Christian David that ' being justified is widely differ ent from the full assurance of faith.' 'I now see clearly,' he writes, 'that we ought not to insist on anything we feel, any more than on anything we do, as if it were necessary previous to justification or the remission oi sins.' With this deliverance from the tyranny of the subjective |and emotional there has come into Methodism a larger toleration for forms of religious experience not her own. Most men to-day would agree with Canon Overton's criti cism of Wesley's excessive self-condemnation: 'If John Wesley was not a true Christian (when in Georgia), God help millions of those who profess and call themselves Chris tians.' Wesley's condemnation of his own religious life at Oxford as valueless did little harm, for it was limited to himself, and, as a matter of fact, in his later years was retracted. It would have accomplished untold mischief if it had led ' the people called Methodists ' into a habit of judging all men by their own emotions and experiences. The measures of our mind are no test of the height and depth and length and breadth of God's love even for our- IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 51 selves, much less for others, and no doctrine could be more fatally narrowing than the extreme teaching of some of the Moravians of Wesley's day who made the consciousness of assurance an essential condition for partaking of the Holy Communion. But this danger, though at one time serious, has become a thing of the past. A final danger of the doctrine of Assurance upon which The danger critics have fastened is, unhappily, not limited to those who of es°i«>». profess this grace. Assurance at times may become the worst form of egoism or egotism, as we see abundantly illustrated in the dreary Calvinistic controversy between Whitefield and Wesley. But the cure for such egoism is not to condemn the doctrine of Assurance, but to insist upon the broader recognition of the varying contents of the religious consciousness. Only by this means will men attain the grace that Cromwell besought for the Kirk of Scotland : ' I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible that you may be mistaken.'1 But in this matter of narrowness rigid dogmatists of all schools have much to learn. Wesley's doctrine of Holiness, or ' perfect love,' is really The doctrine a corollary of his appeal to experience. For if a son is ot Holines»' conscious of his relation to his Father there must be the possibility that that consciousness shall be complete, ' with out a cloud between,' and as such the source of exquisite joy and untroubled confidence: My Father God! that gracious sound Dispels my guilty fear, Not all the harmony of heaven Could so delight my ear! That it is possible now is a further necessity, for otherwise the experience would not be in consciousness. But when we begin to give the full content of this consciousness, to subject it to analysts, to write down cause and effect, to express it in theological terms, then difficulties begin both for Wesley and ourselves. Such difficulties spring wholly from the attempt to define the undefinable. In reality, with Wesley holiness was not a theory, but an experience, a life. But this is true of the saints of God in every age. As Wesley points out, the religion of ' perfect love ' is no new religion : 1 Letters and Speeches, iii. 18. 52 THE PLACE OF METHODISM Holiness one throughoutthe Church. Causes of misunder standing. It is beautifully summed up in that one comprehensive petition, 'Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of Thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love Thee, and worthily magnify Thy Holy Name.' In every age this desire has been the mark of the child of the Father; the granting of this prayer his highest bliss. Varieties in the definition of the mark are immaterial; it is the conscious pursuit that gives unity to the saints of all time. Not to recognize this is to rend the seamless robe of Christ. St. Bernard, St. Francis, and Wesley might have split hairs in attempting definitions; in the testimony of their experience they are absolutely one. Let the reader judge for himself — put side by side three characteristic utterances, and point out, if he can, the fatal differences. He will realize, instead, the fundamental agreements. Bernard's ' Jesu, dulcis memoria ' -,1 the superb chapter in the Little Flowers2 wherein Francis discoursed to brother Leo, ' the little sheep of God,' of ' that wherein is perfect joy ' ; the sections in a. 'Kempis entitled ' Of familiar intercourse with Jesus ' ; and Charles Wesley's hymn entitled Wrestling Jacob: Contented now upon my thigh I halt, till life's short journey end; All helplessness, all weakness, I On Thee alone for strength depend; Nor have I power from Thee to move; Thy nature and Thy name is Love; are all from the same mint. Nevertheless if we must dwell on differences we would point out that these lie almost wholly in two directions. St. Bernard — to take that great saint as an example of a system — emphasized probation. Wesley, with his different outlook, was bound to make this secondary to grace. But to grace as such we cannot apply the categories of time. Time, as Wesley felt, is not an actuality, only a quality of consciousness. Unfortunately in trying to express this pro found philosophical truth many of Wesley's followers, and 1 This hymn, though probably not by St. Bernard himself, is made up from his writings. See my article on St. Bernard in Diet. Rel. Ethics, ii. 530. 2 The Little Floivers of SI, Francis, Kng. Trans, by T. W. Arnold, 1898, c. 8. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 53 Wesley himself occasionally,1 write as if time could be counted by the strokes of the clock. But if ' time ' be translated into terms of consciousness the difficulty sometimes found in Wesley's doctrine of holiness, as also in his doctrine of con version, at once disappears. In the case of conversion, for instance, the more vivid and complete the consciousness, especially as contrasted with previous experience, the more ' instantaneous ' — to use the word of offence — it will appear. But analysis shows that the cause of this impression is not 'time,* but the fullness of the consciousness first of sin, then of the Saviour. In modern Methodism ' time ' ele-.? ments, in the ordinary sense of the term, both as regards holiness and conversion, are thus increasingly regarded as of secondary consequence. A further doctrine which some have claimed as peculiar The doctrine to Methodism is found in the stress laid upon conversion. fo Conversion It is difficult to see how such an exaggeration has arisen. Both the doctrine and the fact of conversion have been upheld and borne witness to from the earlier days of the Church down to the present time. But to the cold formalists and Deists of the eighteenth century both doctrine and fact seemed new. They would have sneered at The Con fessions of St. Augustine ; of St. Francis they were ignorant ; Bunyan they would have dismissed as an illiterate tinker. But what was new in Methodism was not so much the fact of conversion as the immediate consciousness of its accom plishment, with all the joy that such consciousness brings. But on this matter we have already sufficiently dwelt. In reality the attack upon the Methodist doctrine of Conversion, when care is taken to clear away such irrelevant details of its ' instantaneousness,' is always directed from one quarter. It resolves itself into a protest against any conception of religion as an individual consciousness of relation to God, which is not dependent upon sacraments or church. But in this matter we are not careful to answer. This is part of the inheritance of Methodism from the Reformation.2 She would be false to herself and to her 1 Cf. L. Tyerman, Life of Wesley, i. 463 ; Works of Wesley, vi. 464, a passage that reads like an extract from some modern work on reli gious psychophysics, e.g. E. D. Starbuck's Psychology of Religion, 2nd ed. 1901. * Supra, pp. 16, 18. 54 THE PLACE OF METHODISM Wesley'. Arminianism. The corollary of experience, As shown in its universal acceptance to-day. history if she suffered any tampering with this funda mental truth. Wesley's doctrine of Assurance involved as a necessary corollary an Arminian theory of the Atonement. Wesley's Arminianism, it is true, was reached by steps altogether independent of those by which he was led to appeal to ex perience; nevertheless we can see clearly to-day that the one was the consequence of the other. For, as we have already noted,1 the assurance of damnation by eternal decree is so contradictory to the constituents of human nature as to be inconceivable in the case of the healthy-minded. Any appeal to experience which refuses to take account of hope as one of the essential contents of experience is so incomplete as to be valueless. Assurance, therefore, is not and cannot be the negation of hope; it is rather the vivid presentation of its reality, the realization in the concrete of one's ideals and aspirations. To the twentieth century the necessary Arminianism of any appeal to experience seems axiomatic; largely, of course, because this century starts with the postulate of the Fatherhood of God, and has rejected the hard forensic theories of the Atonement which satisfied an earlier genera tion. The difficulty of the twentieth century is rather to find in a scheme of perfect love any place for damnation at all, except as the possible continuance of present conditions — ' myself am hell, nor am I out of it. '2 But the eighteenth century was not so troubled. Hell was still a potent living reality, which played a tremendous part in the feelings of both saint and sinner. The experience of hell, not imaginary or symbolic, but actual anticipation, is one of the contents of the soul to which Wesley and the early Methodists again and again appealed. But in the providence of God Wesley saw clearly the truth, hidden from Whitefield, that any such appeal, nay, further, that any such experience, must rest upon the possibility of repentance and reversal. Where there is no hope there can be no gospel. We have said that Wesley's belief in the universality of 'the gospel call was the necessary corollary of his appeal to 1 Supra, p. 38. 2 1 leave these sentences as originally written in 1909. But the Great War has somewhat disturbed the facile optimism of the first decade of the twentieth century, and of the Victorian era. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 55 experience. We see this more clearly if we try to present to ourselves the arguments which have led well-nigh the universal Church to discredit the Calvinism that appealed so powerfully to a former generation. It is not that men have now demonstrated by a surer logic the radical un soundness of the Calvinist positions; nor are we able to eliminate from the Bible the underlying determinism from which no Eastern literature is wholly exempt. So far as the Bible is concerned the dispassionate critic is driven to confess that both sides are able to prove by its means their own contention, and equally to disprove the theory of its rival. But the Church to-day does not base its Arminianism upon any biblical text, or series of texts or upon the syllogisms of logic. Within living memory the doctrine of the universality of the gospel call has passed from an argument into a conviction, which, like every other funda mental conviction, is not dependent upon proof, nor assailable because of logical difficulties. We have here one of the doctrines in which we see how completely the ultimate standard of authority of any century must be found in the organic living experience of the Church itself. RighUy or wrongly, the average Christian has settled the matter for himself by falling back upon his own conscious ness of the fitness of things. Calvinism, as Wesley frankly calls it, is 'an uncomfortable thought.' The all-pervasive universalism of the age — a deduction from the universalism of appeal for which Wesley contended — bases itself avowedly upon its own inner consciousness of what is possible or prob able in a moral world under a moral Governor. Whether this appeal to inner consciousness, both collective and individual, be valid or not is a matter into which we are not called to inquire. Our present purpose is to point out that Wesley's doctrine of Assurance, founded, as it was, upon the appeal to experience, would have led inevitably in a later generation to an Arminian doctrine of the Atonement, even if at the time Wesley had thrown in his lot with Whitefield. But Wesley's Arminianism was not a deduction of logic Wesley's from certain fundamental premisses; he reached it rather Arminianism through historical channels, largely through his parents, ^derwf. For the introduction of Arminianism — to use a convenient if somewhat inaccurate title for the rebellion in England against Calvinism, parallel with, rather than consequent on, 56 THE PLACE OF METHODISM that of Arminius in Holland x— seems to us to have been in no small measure the most lasting part of the work of Archbishop Laud, assisted, no doubt, on the intellectual side by the influence of the Cambridge Platonists, and on another side by men whom Laud despised, the Ana baptist societies of the Smyth and Helwys type.2 He found the Anglican Church saturated with the doctrines and practices of Geneva largely through the sympathy of his predecessor, Dr. Whitgift, with the Nine Lambeth Articles 3 drawn up in 1595 by the Regius professor at Cambridge, Dr. Whitaker, an unflinching adherent of Calvin's system. As part of his protest against Geneva Laud laid stress upon the more universal aspects of the life and faith of the Church. 'Predestination,' as one of his bishops wrote to him, 'is the root of all Puritanism, and Puritanism the root of all rebellion and disobedient intractableness.' By his repudiation of Calvinism, Laud thus prepared the way for the return of the Church to more 'catholic' usage. For Calvinism and sacerdotalism-^- whether in the extreme forms of the latter in the Roman Church, or in its more moderate Anglican claims — are ultimately incompatible. The conditions of salvation cannot be at the same time ' immutable decrees,' and ' sacramental grace ' and all that is involved in union with a living organic church. The one must make the other needless and illogical, as indeed Wyclif found when he worked out his premisses to the end. Whether Laud's opposition to Geneva, which began in his early Oxford days, was based upon the deductions of logic or was the outcome of practical considerations we cannot say ; that it was effectual in saving the Anglican Church from adherence to Calvinism none can deny. Through the Wesleys, father and son, this part of Laud's High Churchmanship has passed into the life-blood of Methodism. 1 The two movements were so independent in their origin that if is needless to enter into the differences and agreements between the teaching of Arminius and Wesley (cf. Piatt in Diet. Religion and Ethics, vol. i. pp. 802 ff (1908); or W. B. Pope, Compendium of Theology, ii. 78 ff.). 2 For these Arminian Baptists see R. Jones, Mystical Religion, 407 f. 3For these see Diet. Rel. Ethics, iii. 855. In Ireland they wer« embodied in the Nineteen Irish Articles of 161 5. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 57 METHODISM AND PREVIOUS MOVEMENTS In our first section we emphasized the unity and con tinuity of the one life which runs through all the ages of the Church, manifesting itself at different times in diverse forms. In certain aspects of his work Wesley but continued or revived methods and principles used by great predecessors. A few illustrations of this unity may profitably detain us. In spiritual matters there is little that is absolutely new; for the soul itself, its sins and sorrows, changes but slowly with the changing times. We begin with the fundamental agreement between Prophetism. Methodism and a movement in the early Church known as 'Prophetism.' As far back as the days of St. Paul the ' prophets ' were a recognized order in the church, suppressed towards the close of the second century by the growing sacer dotalism of the times, and by the exhaustion of the first wave of spiritual enthusiasm and illumination, assisted by recklessness and extravagance in the order itself. The history of ' prophetism ' would lead us far afield, by disputed paths. Suffice that the characteristic of the ' prophet ' was his extempore, some claimed his inspired, utterance. He was ' gifted ' to speak the word of God in free spontaneous discourse, oftentimes in ecstatic forms. Many of the pro phets, if not most, were under the influence of millenarian and parousian beliefs, and have left us a chaotic wilderness of 'prophetic' literature, Sibylline Oracles and the like, whose obscurity is its chief interest. Others, as Celsus complained, made the staple of their preaching as 'they roamed like tramps through cities and fortified places,' the retribution so speedily to come upon the world. They received no fixed salary, only in the place where they settled down 'the first of a baking of bread, or a jar of oil and wine.' The need of testing the ' prophet '- was not overlooked ; at first by broad if indefinite principles, which at a later 58 THE PLACE OF METHODISM date, as we see in the Didache, gave place to more wooden maxims.1 The duties The ' prophet ' was thus essentially a preacher, generally °* tne . a travelling preacher, though, unlike the " apostle,' he prop e ' was not deprived of the liberty of settling down in one place. He differed from a 'teacher' by being a producer and not an expounder simply; the emphasis was laid upon intuition and not assimilation. He had nothing to do with either the financial side of church life, or its pastoral oversight, much less was he allowed to administer its sacraments.2 These were matters reserved for other officers, for the deacon, the presbyter, or the bishop, though there was nothing to prevent these officers, at any rate in earliest times, from being ' prophets ' as well. Even as a preacher the prophet's business was rather to warn than to instruct; he was the evangelist and not the overseer of the flock. His special witness was to the spontaneous work of the Holy Spirit, whose mouthpiece, oracle 'or ' forthteller ' he professed to be. As such one special function seems to have been reserved to him — the proclamation to backsliders of the forgiveness of the Church. Similarities The similarity between the early Methodist preacher and b«5we«n . . the ' prophet ' is manifest. The two movements, in fact, UIjop e",m stand for the same ' liberty of prophesying.' The enemies Methodism. of the two were the same — occasional inner extravagance, the opposition from without of those with whom order is paramount. The duties of the two were much the same, even to the matter of ' wandering,' and the manner of pay ment of those who rested for a while on their ' circuits.' But most important of all is the witness borne by both movements to the free utterance of the Holy Spirit as one of the elemental facts of a living faith. This utterance neither the growth of sacerdotalism, nor the claims of decorum, nor even the ' foolishness of preaching ' itself is able to destroy. j That ' Prophetism ' is an essential part of Methodism is not *i Cor. xii. 3; i John iv. i. Didtche, xi. 8-12. There is a large literature on ' prophets.' The student may refer to T. M. Lindsay, Church and Ministry in the Early Centuries, 1902; E. C. Selwyn, Christian Prophets, 1900; Harnack in Enc. Brit. xix. 822 ff.; H. B. Workman, Persecution in The Early Church, 3rd ed. 1906, 153 ff. ''Didache x. 7 is ambiguous. But Dr. Lindsay's interpretation (p.c. 95) seems to me inaccurate. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 59 only demonstrated by her early history, but also by one curious fact. When at times Methodism has tended to lose the ' liberty of prophesying,' whether in her prayer-meetings, ' love-feasts,' and ' band-meetings,' in the ministrations of her local preachers, or otherwise, she has always seen the rise, commonly by a secession from her own ranks, of a move ment reviving the 'prophet.' One illustration may be found in the story of the Bible Christians with their strong appeal to Cornish enthusiasm; another is seen in the history of the Salvation Army. This great host of ' prophets,' whose devoted first ' General ' was once a Methodist minister, was largely officered in its earlier days by earnest Methodists, whose spirit of ' prophecy ' had found the restraints of Mid- Victorian Methodism too exacting. The reader will have gathered, from our remarks on Momanism. Prophetism, that there are certain points of affinity between Methodism and two other historic movements. We allude to Montanism and the rise fourteen centuries later of the Friends. Montanism, though eventually it stiffened into a new legalism as deadly as the old which it sought to supersede, in its origin was the protest of the second and third centuries against the suppression of the ' prophet.' In the words of that gem of Montanist literature, the Passion of St. Perpetua, It is only a weak and pusillanimous faith that supposes that the grace of God worked only of old either unto constancy in suffering or unto wonder of revelation; whereas He worketh always as He promised. 1 With all its extravagance and crudeness Montanism bore witness to the great truth of the free life of the Holy Spirit, manifesting itself by other than sacerdotal channels. We see this even in the claim of some of its leaders that prophecy superseded earlier revelation. Montanism,* it is true, was but a crude and imperfect type of the religion of the Spirit; yet, in some aspects Methodism, though un- 1 Passio S. Perpetuae, i., ed. J. A. Robinson, 1891. For Perpetua and her passion see my Persecution in the Early Church, 313 f. 2 For Montanism see A. Ritschl, Die Enstehung, Altkatholische Kirche (1857), or G. N. Bonwetsch, Gesch. des M ontanismus (1881), In 178 1 Wesley wrote: 'I have frequently been in doubt whether Montanus was not one of the wisest and holiest men who was then in the Christian Church.' 6o THE PLACE OF METHODISM flinching in its faithfulness to historic revelation, was the Montanism of the eighteenth century; a protest against an age which had killed the doctrine of the Holy Spirit by frozen rationalism and deadly secularism. In this protest also, in spite of diversity in almost all else, Wesley could have joined hands with George Fox, though his love of order would have prevented him from sympathizing fully with the wonderful life and visions of the mystic in ' leathern breeches.' 1 The parallel The parallel between Montanism and Methodism does not Methodism en<* ^ere : t^ie writings °f tne most illustrious of all Montan ists, the orator Tertullian, show us that Montanism was i a reaction against secularism in the Church. Western Montanism — for the Phrygian form, with its extreme sensa tional features, lies altogether outside our present comparison — had no quarrel with the doctrine of the Catholic, or ' great ' Church, as it was then called, nor in the main with Catholic ritual ; only it wanted to force back both into what it deemed to be apostolic simplicity and purity, freed from episcopal innovations. Its work was not to bring forward new doctrine, but to emphasize the idea of the Paraclete; that, as Tertullian puts it, all ' advance to better things ' must be ' by that Vicar of the Lord, the Holy Ghost.' 2 (The ideal of the Montanist and of the Methodist alike was spirituality, what eighteenth-century divines call ' enthusi asm.' To secure this, both were prepared to turn the Church into ' societies,' however few and insignificant, shut out from the world by rigorous discipline, and working upon the world not so much by intercourse as by challenge. Both alike were thus forced into a certain antagonism to culture, from which Montanism, unlike Methodism, was never delivered. Both alike suffered persecution from the established Church of the times, with fatal effects for Montanism. Both movements were accompanied by certain 1 Wesley rarely mentions Fox. This is the more remarkable inas much as Wesley was acquainted with Barclay's Apology. The similarity between Wesley and Fox in recording the business of Conferences, etc., by question and answer, to which Methodism still adheres, is apparently accidental. The meaning of Quakerism cannot be better studied than in the works of that eminent Friend, Prof. Rufus Jones. 2 On the Veiling of Virgins, c. i. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 61 remarkable manifestations of nervous excitement. By one of the familiar paradoxes of history, Montanism, which began in a claim for freedom ended in extreme rigidity, tied hand and foot to the oracles of its ' prophets.' At one time there was a danger lest this should happen also in Methodism, but that happily has passed away. From Prophetism, its outcome in Montanism, and its revival in the Society of Friends we pass to the relation of Methodism and Monasticism.1 At first sight the two move ments would appear to have nothing in common; their differences, certainly, are neither few nor insignificant. For Monasticism too frequently identified religion with Calvary, the foundation with the superstructure. Its consciousness of the need of union with the Crucified did not always lead to the joy of union with the risen, triumphant Christ.2 But we must beware lest we are misled, as was Charles Wesley — Not in the dark monastic cell By vows and grates confined3 — into taking some accidental circumstance for the essence of a system. Between Methodism and Monasticism there are at least i six points of contact and similarity. In Monasticism, and certainly in early Methodism — whether it is as true of present-day Methodism may, perhaps, be doubted — there was a common emphasis of the importance of the conquest of self, in other words, of renunciation, as the one condi tion of effective work for God. Both preached the great truth that not by coming down to lower levels, but by living on mountain tops, will men influence most powerfully their fellows. An accommodated Christianity will never win the age to whose supposed needs it has been adapted. In the Monaitioism. Both are social. 1 For Monasticism see a slight sketch by Harnack, Monasticism, trans. E. E. Kellett (1901); or my more complete study, The Involu tion of the Monastic Ideal (1913), especially cc. 1 and 7. See also the article of Dom Butler in Diet. Relig. and Ethics. 2 Romans, vi. 5. 3 C. Wesley did not know that out of the 520 monastic houses of England only nine had cells. In a friary to have a cell for oneself was so great a privilege that we find that it was sometimes a matter of special papal indult. C. Wesley had obtained his ideas from the Charterhouse. It should not be forgotten that one of the few charterhouses in England was at Epworth. 62 THE PLACE OF METHODISM secondplace Monasticism, as worked out by St. Benedict, and developed by his successors — for the Carthusians were always few, and the ascetic extremes of the monks of the Nitria or of the East in general never won the West — was essentially a social religion; men were to help each other to the spiritual life under leadership and a rule.1 Nor was this fellowship limited to the affairs of the soul : it extended, far more completely than has ever been realized in Metho dism — or, for that matter, is now possible — to all the interests of life, to the work in the fields, to the home-life in the cloister. In both The third point of resemblance is equally striking. Holiness Monasticism, especially in its origin, was the witness to a character. sacerdotal age that holiness is a fact of character rather /than an imputed act. Largely through the influence of St. Cyprian the foundations of the Church, as it then existed had been laid in the doctrines of apostolic succession and a mediating priesthood; the coming of grace from without, through channels other than the man himself. Against this the monk was a silent but constant protest. He recoiled from the growing conception that the Kingdom of God was to be found in a great imperial organized society. Once more he heard the eternal words : ' the Kingdom of God is within you.' Monasticism never forgot that personal holiness — the special definition given to the term need not now concern us — is something far higher than any succession can bestow. Instead of intermediate communion with God through priests and sacraments, the monk upheld the ideal of the direct intercourse of the soul with its Maker. Thus in its origin Monasticism lay over against the Catholic Church, with an ideal other than, possibly higher than, that of the Church. The Moreover, Monasticism, especially in its early days, was priesthood of the protest that the laity also are priests unto God. The earlier monks were generally laymen. St. Anthony, the founder of Monasticism was a layman to the end. He neither goes to church nor receives the Eucharist for years, and yet continues in the closest intercommunion with God. St. Jerome was ordained against his will and always refused to consecrate the elements. His contempt for 1 The social aspect of Monasticism was especially prominent in the clan-monasteries of Ireland, see Evolution of Monastic Ideal, c. 4, IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 63 apostolic succession is shown in his famous statement that in the early days bishop and presbyter were interchangeable terms, and that the hierarchy is an arrangement of human origin. St. Martin, whose Life by Sulpicius Severus is one of the gems of biography, refused all the efforts of Hilary of Poitiers to make him a presbyter. He was only cap tured and made priest and bishop by a stratagem. It is true that in the course of time this distinction became lost, and that the monk was often forced to join the priesthood under pressure from without. The bishops felt the danger of communities of laymen growing up within the Church, which proclaimed to the world, by their very existence, an ideal of religious life opposite to that sacramental and sacerdotal theory on which their episcopal authority rested. Nevertheless, in theory at least, the monk, even to the end, was not necessarily a priest; whilst his abbot, oftentimes exalted by papal sanction into the equal of a bishop, was none other than a presbyter. We have a striking illus tration of this anti-sacerdotalism in the Rule of St. Benedict. Confession was not made to a priest, nor to the monastic chaplain, but to the abbot or to the whole brotherhood, even though they were laymen. In some respects the anti- sacerdotalism of Methodism is but the development, under a new form, of this constant protest of Monasticism. A further point of contact is of equal importance. In The sacrifice every monastery the service of God in the church was the °, pri"s;t;_l° j • • _ .ji_i.ru t thanksgiving. supreme duty; in some cases interrupted by brief hours for sleep or work, in others carried on by relays without cessation day or night, that the Master of the House, whether He came at midnight or at cockcrow, should find them waiting. But this service was rarely the adoration of the mass ; its more usual form was a continuous ' sacrifice of prayer and thanksgiving.' In an age when religion was tending more and more to the external the monk laid the emphasis upon prayer. ' What the sword is to the hunts man, prayer is to the monk,' claimed Chrysostom. Anthony spent long nights in prayer, and still was not satisfied. ' To occupy oneself with God,' said St. Bernard, 'is the one occupation of all occupations.' Monasticism was dissolved, but this spirit survived in the Nonconformity of England and America, with its consistent protest against any sacerdotal conception of the Church. Little do the members 64 THE PLACE OF METHODISM Monasticism and the Annual Conference. of some humble class-meeting, as they meet together for singing and prayer, the wayside preacher of the Salvation Army, or the head of the family as he gathers his children around him for worship, realize that they are perpetuating in new ways the characteristic motive of a system that, pos sibly, he despises and contemns. A last point of comparison between Methodism and some forms of Monasticism lies, curious to say, in the emphasis placed by Wesley upon his annual omnicompetent Confer ence. In the judgement of Dr. Fitchett ' the Conference is perhaps the most original contribution that Methodism has made to church history.'1 Dr. Fitchett overlooked the similar institution in connexion with the Cistercians and the Friars. The organization of the older Benedictine monasteries was essentially what we should call to-day of a Congregational type — i.e. each house was isolated and independent of all others, unless indeed it were an offshoot, a dependent cell or priory. But the Cistercians and the Friars were the founders of connexionalism — for we may pass by the limited effort in this direction of the Clugniac reformers.2 Every abbot of a Cistercian house was bound to attend the Chapter- General held annually at the mother-house at Citeaux, and was under obligation to render account to the central authority; much after the same manner as Methodist ' superintendents ' to their Conference. The analogy between the organization of Methodism and that of the Friars was even closer.3 The Franciscans, for instance, were divided into ' Provinces,' over each of which was a ' Provincial Minister,' among the Dominicans elected for four years only. The ' Provinces ' were again divided into ' Custodies,' under the charge of ' Custodians,'4 who possessed general rights of supervision for their districts. Every year Chapters-General were held — the first at Michael mas, the second and more important at Whitsuntide.6 In 1 W. H. Fitchett, il'esley and His Century (1906), p. 347 f. 2 For this section scr my Monastic Ideal, c. 5. * Op. cit., c. 6. * The exact organization of the Custodies is not very clearly known. (Op. cit., p. 295.) 'The annual Dominican chapter-general was held alternately at Paris and Bologna; among the Franciscans, as in Methodism, it roamed about. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 65 many of its powers this Whitsuntide gathering corresponded with the Methodist Conference. The original purpose of both Chapter-General and Conference was the same: the forgathering of brethren from far and near that they might gain new enthusiasm by the communion of saints. How Wesley would have rejoiced in the testimony of Cardinal Ugolino when he beheld, in 1221, three thousand brethren gathered at ' the Chapter of the Rush-mats.' Of a truth this is the camp and the army of the knights of God. . . . Nor was there heard in so great a multitude or idle speech or foolish jest, but where soever a company of brothers was gathered together they either prayed or said the office and bewailed their sins, or discoursed concerning the salvation of souls. How Wesley would have insisted that this was the ideal he himself had formed for his own Conference, though he might not have admitted to it, as did St. Francis, the crowds of strangers. The growth of business soon led, in the case of the Friars, to the restriction of the Chapter- General to the ' delegates ' of the ' provinces ' ; in the case of Methodism to the exclusion, by Wesley himself, of all but a select band of preachers — the ' Legal Hundred ' — this last an arrangement that speedily proved impossible to work, though by a legal fiction it is maintained to this day. Both Friars and Methodists found that this common government by a central court united the whole body into a compact effective instrument. A comparison between Wesley and St. Francis, to one Methodism detail of which we have already alluded, would have pj-anciscan amazed no one more than Wesley himself. To the eighteenth Revival. century St. Francis was unknown — ' a well-meaning man,' said Wesley, ' though manifestly weak in his intellect ' I1 To day the similarity between the two men, and between the revivals jn which they were the leaders, is clear. John Wesley was, in fact, the St. Francis of the eighteenth century. Like him, he received in his spiritual experience the direct call of God to a complete surrender of self. Like him, he found in the love of God the central truth which inspired his life and ruled his will. To live the life of Jesus Christ in the world was the common object 1 Wesley, Eccl. Hist. ii. 258, who took it from Mosheim. s 66 THE PLACE OF METHODISM of both— of the one through imitation of His poverty, of the other of His sinless perfection. The revival of personal religion in a coarse and profligate age through the instrumentality of a society was their common achievement. The Methodist, like the Friar Minor, took the world as his parish. He planted himself in the crowded cities and among the outcast populations. His mission was to the poor, the unlearned, and the neglected. He cared not for boundaries of parish or country. Borne on the wings of love, he crossed the seas, bringing to all who would hear the glad tidings of forgiveness. Indeed, with due allowance for the differences of the time, the methods as well as the objects of Wesley were singularly like those of St. Francis. There was a similar use of colloquial and simple sermons, similar reiteration of a few all-important truths, similar renunciation of all pomp and splendour of service or building, similar re ligious use of hymns and music. Even the obstacles which they encountered and the difficulties which they raised were similar. The sneer of the worldly, the accusation of fanaticism, the dread of the orderly, the dislike of the parish clergy, the timidity of the bishops, the self-suffi ciency of the members of the society themselves, were trials common to both. That the sons of St. Francis with all his individuality, remained devoted children of the Church, that the sons of Wesley, with all his personal loyalty, found their natural sphere outside the Church. was due, under God, to the circumstances of the time.1 Wesley and The comparison between the two saints, might be pressed St. Francis. to further detail. How easy it would be to mistake the following appeal of St. Francis for one of Wesley's Twelve Rules of a Helper : 2 By the holy love which is in God I pray all the friars, ministers as well as others, to put aside every obstacle, every care, every anxiety, that they may be able to consecrate themselves entirely to serve, love, and honour the Lord God with a pure heart, and a sincere purpose; which is what He seeks above all things. Or take the following from the Little Flowers. Change the Tuscan blue for English grey, the romance of the 1 H. O. Wakeman, An Introduction to the History of the Church of England (5th ed. 1898), p. 448; cf. A. Jessopp, Coming of the Frias, 4th ed. 1890, p. 49. 2 Wesley, Works, viii. 309. A short code, full of sagacity and common sense, IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 67 thirteenth century for a more monotonous and joyless age, and have we not read the same in Wesley's Journals ? Ye must needs know that St. Francis, being inspired of God, set out for to go into Romagna with Brother Leo his companion ; and as they went they passed by the foot of the Castle of Montefeltro; in the which castle there was at that time a great company of gentlefolk and much feasting. . . And St. Francis spake unto Brother Leo, Let us go up unto this feast, for with the help of God we may win some good fruit of souls. Coming to the castle, St. Francis entered in, and came to the courtyard where all that great company of gentlefolk was gathered together, and in fervency of spirit stood upon a parapet and began to preach, taking as the text of his sermon these words in the vulgar tongue — So great the joys I have in sight That every sorrow brings delight.1 As regards their characters the resemblance is less com- Comraat of plete. Wesley is as complex as Francis is simple. In his ¦ cnaracl«r- indifference to the sunnier sides of life Wesley was the child of Puritanism; Francis, by his joyous simplicity and his in tense sympathy with nature, was the founder, through Giotto, Fra Angelico of Fiesole — the one Dominican who contri buted to art2 — and others, of Italian art. Wesley, like all great Englishmen, was a man of gigantic will. Cardinal Ugolini, the evil genius of the movement, who succeeded in reducing the Brothers Minor into auxiliaries of the papacy, would have found it a difficult task to force the man ' whose genius for government was not inferior to that of Richelieu ' into a system destined to destroy his ideal. Wesley's keen eye would have detected, his energy baffled, the snares that thwarted St. Francis. Of Wesley we may say, with J. R. Green, that ' no man ever stood at the head of a great revolution whose temper was so anti-revolutionary ' ; of St. Francis, that no man whose unconscious purpose was so revolutionary so successfully strengthened existing institutions. But the two were one in the purity of a 1 Little Flowers, Appendix on the ' Stigmata ' (first reflection). For the origin of the Little Flowers see my Evolution, cit., p. 287 n. 2 For the relation of Francis to art see the important work of H. Thodc, F. v. Assist it. d. Anfange d . Kunst d. Renaissance in Italien (2nd ed. 1904, or French ed. 2 vols. Paris, 1909, finely illustrated). 68 THE PLACE OF METHODISM devotion in which there was neither the ineffectual selfish ness of ' other-worldliness,' nor the blindness which makes men the slaves of the present. The verdict of Thomas of Celano — the author of that marvellous hymn, 'Dies irae, dies ille,' — on the secret of his leader might equally have been written of Wesley: His genius, free from all taint, pierced through hidden mysteries, and the lover's affection entered within, whereas the knowledge of masters remains without. Certain other matters in this comparison of Wesley and St. Francis deserve special attention. We do well to remember that Wesley's helpers and the Little Poor Brothers of St. Francis were both originally laymen. The significance of this fact cannot be exaggerated. For centuries the laity had held little place in the organization of the church. The call of Now Europe was flooded with a host of earnest laymen, the laity. bound together in social service and the passion for souls, most of whom earned their living, like St. Paul, by the labour of their hands. When Brother Giles was waiting for a ship whereby he might sail to the Holy Land, he carried water and made willow baskets. When other occupations failed, the brethren hired themselves out as servants. The new place of the laity was also emphasized by St. Francis in the foundation of his Tertiaries, or great guild of the Brothers and Sisters of Penitence. Of this lay fraternity, which to-day numbers its members as over two millions1 the obligations were peace and charity, while the rich were to distribute their surplus wealth to the poor. To this day the Franciscan order is the only one in which there is no difference of costume between laymen and priests. All this, designedly accomplished by St. Francis, was forced upon Wesley in the working out of his mission. Wesley found his Tertiaries in the development of his class-meetings. Only slowly has there grown up in Methodism a difference of spiritual rank between its ' local preachers * and its itinerant ministers; while no one conversant with Metho dism will deny that the key to its influence is its appeal to the laity. Unlike the Anglican Church, Methodism robbed of its ministry could still survive; deprived of its 1 The best account of the Tertiaries is in M. Heimbucher Die Orden u. Kongregationen der Kal/t. Kirche (2nd ed. 1907), ii. 489-527. ' IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 69 lay workers it would assuredly die. Not merely its bene esse, but its esse, lies in their service. The two revivals were also alike in their democratic' Democratic significance. The Little Poor Brothers of Assisi sprang ''8nificance' from the common soil. Hitherto monks had belonged for the most part to the upper classes; only for the aristocrat was there the refuge of the cloister.1 But in the Brother hood of Francis caste distinctions were unknown; the men whom feudalism and the Church had despised took the world by storm. The Friars were recruited from the lower middle classes, or from the artisans of the towns. The true title of the order is untranslatable because of its demo cratic significance. In all the towns of Italy the people were divided into majores and minores ; the nearest equiva lent would be ' guilded ' and " unguilded.' Francis deliber ately changed the name of his disciples from the ' Penitents of Assisi,' and enrolled himself with the latter; his was the company of the Brothers Minor. That the appeal of Methodism has as yet been limited almost wholly to the same classes as the company of the Friars has been judged by some to be a sign of its strength, by others a note of weakness. But of the fact and of its democratic significance there can be little doubt. Allusion has already been made to the similarity of Simila,jjt£, methods of the two saints. Both alike made it their rule of metho*s- to go to those who needed them most. Both alike found their flock in the slums and hovels of overcrowded cities and neglected suburbs. Both alike were exposed to the per secution of the mob. Both alike fell back on the ministry of song and on field-preaching. In the preaching of both men there was neither grace of oratory nor profundity of thought, only the setting forth of the Saviour with burning love and conviction. Thomas of Celano's remark upon the preaching of his master, that Francis 'had first persuaded himself by practice of that which he endeavoured to com mend to others by his words,' might with equal justice be applied to Wesley. For both alike believed that the Sermon on the Mount was something more than a speculation in ethics. For both St. Francis and Wesley to walk in the light meant perpetual sunshine. They deemed perfection See A. Savine, English Monasteries on the Eve of the Dissolu tion (1909), pp. 263-7- and joy. 70 THE PLACE OF METHODISM and joy to be equivalent terms. The astonishing thing is that both made thousands to realize this truth of a trans- scendent idealism. Identification On this identification of perfection and joy it were well ti/^T*"™ to lm§er f°r a moment; for it is perhaps the most striking of the many similarities between the two movements. For this purpose we cannot do better than put side by side certain characteristic documents. When Brother Bernard drew nigh unto death: 'Sursum corda, Brother Bernard, sursum corda,' cried Brother Giles with joyfulness. The face of the dying saint — grew bright and joyful beyond measure, as he replied : ' O brothers most dear, this I find within my soul, that for a thousand worlds the like of this I would not have served any other Lord.' Brother Ruffino narrates that when he saw the Saviour, His sign to him was this: As long as thou shalt live thou shalt no more feel sadness nor melancholy; he that made thee sad was the devil. ' Brother Masseo was so filled with — the light of God that from thenceforward he \va9 always joyful and glad ; and oftentimes when he prayed he would break forth into sounds of joy, cooing like a dove. Even the well-known sermon of St. Francis to the birds1 is but a result of this joy, if read, as it should be, in its context. For it is in the same chapter that we read how Francis received the counsel of God — that it behoved him by preaching to convert much people. Thus saith the Lord : Say unto Brother Francis that God has not called him to this estate for himself alone, but to the end that he may gain fruit of souls and that many through him may be saved. Then there came upon him the great joy of souls, one result of which, as he set out ' taking no thought for road or way,' was his sermon to his 'little sisters the birds.' Or let the reader take the wonderful eighth chapter of the Lillle Flowers, wherein ' St. Francis set forth to Brother Leo, as they were going by the way, what things were perfect joy ' ; ' If patiently we endure wrong and cruelty and rebuffs without being disquieted and without murmuring, but 1 Little Flowers, c. 16. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 71 with humbleness and charity . . . thinking on the pains of the blessed Christ, the which we ought to suffer for the love of Him, Brother Leo, write that here and herein is perfect joy.' But most of all do we catch the new joy of Christ in six lines by Brother Wernher von der Tegernsee : Des solt du gewis sin; Du bist min, ih bin din. Du bist beslozzen In minem herzen; Verlorn is das sluzzelin Du muost immer drinne sin1 — h»»s which remind us of the German hymn translated by Wesley : Take my poor heart, and let it be For ever closed to all but Thee I Seal Thou my breast, and let me wear That pledge of love for ever there! Other passages from the hymns and Journals of the Wesleys that ring with the same note will readily occur to every student; as for instance Charles Wesley's With Thee conversing, we forget All time, and toil, and care; Labour is rest, and pain is sweet, If Thou, my God, art here. In the rise of Methodism this spiritual joy expressed itself in an outburst of song that led to a revolution in the whole character of English worship. ' Quires and places where they sing ' were no longer confined to the stately cathedral ; and the psalms in the wretched English of Sternhold and Hopkins ceased to be the one permissible form of hymn. A similar outburst of song accompanied the Franciscan re vival, arising from the same joyousness of soul. We may take as an instance Brother Jacoponi da Todi — the author of the Stabat Mater, on whose tomb is written the touching epitaph, ' Stultus propter Christum ' — was thrown into a dungeon. 'A cesspool,' he writes, 'opens on it, hence a smell not of musk. ... I am tripped up of my irons, and wound round in a big chain.' 1 ' Thou art locked up in my heart ; the little key is lost ; thou must remain inside.' 72 THE PLACE OF METHODISM Nevertheless, such was his joy that he fills a volume with love songs to Jesus.1 Wyclif and Between Wyclif and Wesley there would not have been, Wesley. we imagine, much real sympathy. Wyclif's unimpassioned piety, his stern determinism and consequent failure to grasp the value of prayer, his lack of any consciousness either of the tremendous reality of sin or of the reign of grace, his scholastic subtleties, curiously combined in later years with indifference to all studies but theology, his Erastian conceptions of reformation, his somewhat doubtful opportunism in political matters, the crudity and exaggera tion in thought and utterance of many of his ideas, especially towards the close, would not have appealed to Wesley. On the contrary the vehemence of Wyclif's lan guage, and the revolutionary character of many of his proposals, especially of his doctrine of " dominion,' founded on grace, would probably have estranged the more sober, conservative Churchman. Wyclif never learned that a mouldering fire and a powder magazine, however carefully guarded, are dangerous neighbours. Wesley, on the con trary, as we see from his unfortunate attitude in the American War, was always on the side of authority. But in two matters we can be sure of their perfect accord — Wyclif's intense sympathy with the poor and the supreme importance that he attached to the Scriptures as the rule of faith and life. Wyclif's sorrow for the poor runs through his works like a wail of love, and redeems his fiercest denunciations, his most impossible schemes. Half Wyclif's English writings might be compressed into his bitter cry : ' Poor men have naked sides, and dead walls have great plenty of waste gold.' Wyclif's insistence on the supreme authority of the Bible and the right of the sober- minded to interpret it for themselves was not less than that of Luther, and won for him at an early date the proud title of ' doctor evangelicus,' while he desired that above all others his followers should be known as ' the men of the Gospel.' Their use In two matters Wesley and Wyclif were one in their of the pen. methods — in their constant appeal by the pen, and in their use of unauthorized preachers. In the vast range and 1 On this matter the student may consult A. F. Ozanam, Les poetes Franciscains en Italie (6th ed. 1882). IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 73 extent of his writings Wyclif is incomparably the greater of the two men; in the strenuousness of his intellectual life Wyclif has had few superiors. His activity in bringing out long scholastic treatises, or in editing popular editions of his sermons and tractates, is almost incredible, more especially when we consider the few years into which his tireless energy compressed tasks that might well have occupied a lifetime. For Wyclif was not merely the last of the schoolmen, but the first of modern pamphleteers. In homely English, in stinging sarcasm and bold invective, he drove home arguments hitherto buried in crabbed Latin. Nor must we forget the translation of the Vulgate into the language of the people, carried out by Wyclif's followers, especially Purvey, at the instigation of the master. Though Wesley seems to have been strangely ignorant of Wyclif,1 the later reformer followed in the footsteps of the earlier in his numerous tracts, written in terse logical English, appealing to all sorts and conditions of men.2 Though later Methodists too often neglected the effective use of the press, Wesley himself was keenly alive to the opportunities it afforded for reaching the people. Wesley's early preachers and Wyclif's ' Biblemen ' have 'Biblemen' often been compared. For Wyclif had unconsciously copied f" , . the methods of St. Francis, and fallen back upon the lost secret of the Brothers Minor. From Oxford, as from Assisi two centuries before, Wyclif, like Wesley four centuries later, sent out his " poor priests,' who, in the highways and by-ways, if not in the churches then on the village greens, should win the souls of the neglected. Clad in russet robes of undressed wool, without sandals, purse or scrip, a staff in their hands, dependent for food and shelter on the good will of their neighbours, their only possession a few pages of Wyclif's Bible — especially the translation of the Gospels and epistles for Sundays — or his English tracts and ser mons, constantly moving from place to place (for Wyclif 1 So far as I know he never mentions Wyclif. Wesley cannot have read the great work of J. Lewis, The History of the Life and Sufferings of John Wicliffe (1720), for he even speaks of Tindal's Bible as the ' first English translation of the whole Bible ' {Works, vii. 46). 2 For Wyclif's and Purvey's Bible see Miss M. Deanesly, The Lollard Bible (1920). 74 TOE PLACE OF METHODISM feared lest they should become ' possessioners '), not given ' to games or to chess ' but ' to the duties which befit the priesthood,— studious acquaintance with God's law, plain preaching of the word of God, and devout thankful ness ' — Wyclif's ' poor priests,' like the Friars before them, and Wesley's ' helpers ' on their ' circuits ' in later days, soon became a power in the land. Wyclif's 'Biblemen^' it is true, were not 'laymen,' as is so often assumed.1 Even Archbishop Courtenay, their great enemy, only calls them ' unauthorized preachers ' — i.e. clerics without a bishop's licence. Some, no doubt, like Wesley's Holy Club, were men of culture, students attracted by Wyclif's enthusiasm at Oxford; the majority, especially after his expulsion from the university, were simple, unlettered clerks — ' an un lettered man,' he said, ' with God's grace can do more for building up the Church than many graduates.' But apart from this question of orders — a word which to the medieval mind had a wider connotation than that which it bears to-day — the resemblance between Wyclif's Biblemen and Wesley's early ' preachers ' is complete, the fear of be coming ' possessioners ' included. We*ley and Comparisons have sometimes been made between Wesley L°r der1*1* ant* Ignatms OI Loyola,2 chiefly, of course, because of the of the will. obedience exacted by both from their followers. But in the case of Wesley the obedience was personal, in the case of Loyola part of a system. The subjection of the will to another, even in the smallest details of life, is the essence of the Society of Jesus8 ; a doctrine utterly alien to the Methodist spirit. And yet— for after all in the matters of the soul unity is often to be found in the most diverse phenomena — in this doctrine of the subjection of the will modern Methodism and Jesuitism are one, up to a certain point. In its recent preaching Methodism has recognized the psychological truth somewhat hidden from a previous generation that it is the will, and not the intellect or feelings, that lies at the basis of experience and that constitutes the 1 For proofs see Fasciculi Zizaniorum (in the Rolls Series), 275 ; D. Wilkins, Concilia (1737), iii. 158. 2 e.g. R. W. Church, Occasional Studies, 1897, i. 244; Macaulay, Essays, ii. 143. ' Hence the fondness of the Jesuits for the philosophy of Duns Scotus. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 75 essence of and gives unity to the ego, For man is neces sarily a creature of action, even more than of sensation and , reflection.1 Methodist evangelists, therefore, have pointed out that ' conversion ' is nothing else than the surrender of the will,2 that holiness consists in the perfect surrender, that the essence of sin lies in selfishness, or the exaltation of self by the unsurrendered will. But this surrender is always made immediately to Christ, never, as in the Society of Jesus, to an earthly representative. A criticism of these views lies outside our purpose. In Modern some respects recent Methodist teaching as regards con- M«*ho