Chapter XIII: Part III (12)

“But after all this pother, What is this persecution, concerning which you make so loud an outcry? Why, some of our lay preachers did what we thought was both ill in itself, and likely to do much harm among the people. Of this, complaint was made to me. And what did I do? Did I expel those preachers out of the community? Not so. Did I forbid them to preach any more? Not so neither. Did I degrade them from itinerant to local preachers? Not so much as this. I told them, I thought the thing was wrong, and would do hurt, and therefore _advised_ them to do it no more. Certainly this is a _new_ species of _persecution_! You might as well call it _murder_. I have used no _arbitrary_, no _coercive_ power; nay, no power at all in this matter, but that of love. I have given no man an ill word or an ill look on that account. I have not withdrawn my confidence or my conversation from any. I have dealt with every man as, if the tables were turned, I should desire he would deal with me.

“I am, your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[286]

We add only one more extract on this subject.

“LONDON, _September 10, 1756_.

“REVEREND SIR,—Concerning diocesan episcopacy, there are several questions I should be glad to have answered. 1. Where is it prescribed in Scripture? How does it appear, that the apostles settled it in all the churches they planted? How does it appear, that they settled it in any, as to make it of perpetual obligation? It is allowed, ‘Christ and His apostles did put the churches under some form of government or other’; but, (1) Did they put all churches under the same precise form? If they did, (2) Can we prove this to have been the very same which now remains in the Church of England?

“I am very far from being ‘quite indifferent to any man’s opinions in religion’; neither do I ‘conceal my sentiments.’ Few men less. I have written severally, and printed, against deists, papists, mystics, quakers, anabaptists, presbyterians, Calvinists, and antinomians. An odd way of ingratiating myself with them! Nevertheless, in all things indifferent, but not at the expense of truth, I rejoice to please all men for their good to edification.

“I have humoured you, so as to dispute with you a little; but with what probability of success? What man of threescore (unless perchance one in an age) was ever _convinced_ of anything? Is not an old man’s motto, _Non persuadebis etiamsi persuaseris_? When we are past middle age, does not a kind of stiffness and inflexibility steal upon the mind as well as the body? And how does this bar the gate against all conviction! O sir, what an idle thing is it for you to dispute about lay preachers! Is not a lay preacher preferable to a drunken preacher? to a cursing, swearing preacher?

“Yours, etc.,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[287]

These are long extracts; perhaps, in the opinion of some, too long; but it must be borne in mind, that the subject of lay preaching, and of separation from the Established Church, was one of the weightiest questions with which Wesley had to deal. For nearly fifty years, it occasioned him the utmost anxiety. Besides, there is no point upon which he has been more misunderstood than this. It is one which excites more interest now than it did even a century ago. It is high time that the controversy was settled. To help in doing this, we have collected all the facts with which we are acquainted. They have been stated with the utmost honesty. Comment would be easy; it is even tempting; but the reader can form his own opinions on the facts presented, and can comment for himself. All must agree, however, that Wesley was very far from being as rigid a Churchman as was his brother Charles, and as the clergy of the present day wish us to believe. This is a subject which will, again and again, demand attention.

On September 6, Wesley left Bristol for London, where he continued reading, writing, publishing, and preaching till the year was ended. Two days were spent in, what he calls, “settling his temporal business,” the result of which was the following entry in his journal: “It is now about eighteen years since I begun writing and printing books; and how much in that time have I gained by printing? Why, on summing up my accounts, I found that, on March 1, 1756, I had gained, by printing and preaching together, a debt of £1236.”

On September 10, he writes: “I preached at a famous place, commonly called ‘The Bull and Mouth meeting’; which had belonged, I suppose, near a hundred years, to the people called Quakers. As much of real religion as was ever preached there, I trust will be preached there still; and perhaps in a more rational, scriptural, and intelligible manner.”

A month later, he says: “I preached to a huge multitude in Moorfields, on ‘Why will ye die, O house of Israel?’ It is field preaching which does the execution still; for usefulness there is none comparable to it.”

Among other books, he read the following: “The case of Marriages between near Kindred particularly considered, with respect to the Doctrine of Scripture, the Law of Nature, and the Laws of England.” By John Fry. 8vo, 146 pages. “It is,” says he, “the best tract I ever read upon the subject; I suppose the best that is extant. And two points, I think, he has fully proved: (1) That many marriages, commonly supposed to be unlawful, are neither contrary to the law of nature, nor the revealed law of God, nor the law of the land. (2) That ecclesiastical courts have no right to meddle with any case of this kind.” Twenty-nine years afterwards, Wesley read the same work again, and wrote: “I wonder it is not more known, as there is nothing on the head like it in the English tongue. I still think, he has proved, to a demonstration, that no marriages are forbidden, either by the law of God or of England, but those of brothers and sisters, and those in the ascending and descending line.” Wesley’s opinion on this subject is not without interest, especially at the present day, when discussion is rife respecting the propriety of repealing the law of the land which renders null and void the marriage of a man to his deceased wife’s sister. Fry was strongly in favour of such marriages, and Wesley endorsed the soundness of his arguments. In doing that, Wesley showed that, rather than sacrifice what he considered right and true, he was willing to be branded as a heterodox son of that church, which, by “the most reverend father in God, Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury,” had issued an “Admonition,” prohibiting all matrimonial alliances of this description.

Another book he read was Voltaire’s “Henriade.” He remarks: “Voltaire is a very lively writer, of a fine imagination; and allowed, I suppose, by all competent judges, to be a perfect master of the French language; and, by him, I am more than ever convinced, that the French is the poorest, meanest language in Europe; that it is no more comparable to the German or Spanish, than a bagpipe is to an organ; and that, with regard to poetry in particular, considering the incorrigible uncouthness of their measure, and their always writing in rhyme, it is as impossible to write a fine poem in French, as to make fine music upon a jew’s harp.”

Wesley also read a “Dissertation in Defence of the Hebrew Points,” by Leusden, the eminent professor of Hebrew and Jewish antiquities at Utrecht, and says: “I was fully convinced, there is, at least, as much to be said on this as on the other side of the question. But how is it, that men are so positive on both sides, while demonstration is to be had on neither?”

The reading of Leusden was, doubtless, intended as a preparation for the reading of another author, whose works were then attracting great attention. John Hutchinson was born at Spennythorn, in Yorkshire, in 1674. He was a man of undoubted genius; and, among other things, invented a chronometer, for the discovery of the longitude at sea, an instrument which obtained the approbation of Sir Isaac Newton. He is chiefly known, however, as the founder of a system of theology and philosophy, based on a fanciful etymology of Hebrew words. He held, that the Old Testament Scriptures were written in Hebrew without points; that this was the language of paradise; and that every Hebrew root has some important meaning, and is designed to signify spiritual and mental things. In this way, Hutchinson turned history into prophecy, and made Scripture sentences to mean what they were never meant to mean, and what they were incapable of meaning. He died in 1737; and, in 1748, his ingenious but fanciful productions were published in twelve volumes octavo, and obtained not a few admirers, including, among others, Dr. Samuel Clarke and Bishop Horne.

For some reason, Wesley began to read Mr. Hutchinson’s philosophy with all the itinerant preachers at that time assembled in London; but says, he was not able to admire either “his sense or his spirit. His hypothesis was unsupported by Scripture; very ingenious, but quite precarious. When Dr. Bentley published his Greek Testament, one remarked: ‘Pity but he would publish the Old; then we should have two New Testaments!’ It is done. Those who receive Mr. Hutchinson’s emendations certainly have two New Testaments! In order to learn all I could from his works, I read over the Glasgow abridgment with Mr. Thomas Walsh, the best Hebrean I ever knew. I never asked him the meaning of a Hebrew word but he would tell me how often it occurred in the Bible, and what it meant in each place! We both observed, that Mr. Hutchinson’s whole scheme is built upon etymologies; the most uncertain foundation in the world. We observed, secondly, that, if the points be allowed, all his building sinks at once; and, thirdly, that, setting them aside, many of his etymologies are forced and unnatural. Mr. Hutchinson affirms, the points were invented by the Masorites, only thirteen or fourteen hundred years ago, in order to destroy the sense of Scripture. I doubt this: who can prove it? Who can prove they were not as old as Ezra, if not coeval with the language? Let any one give a fair reading only to what Dr. Cornelius Bayley has offered in the preface to his Hebrew Grammar, and he will be as sick of reading without the points as I am.”[288]

During his autumnal sojourn in the metropolis, Wesley took to task the editor of the _Monthly Review_, for “jumbling together, and condemning by the lump, the whole body of people called Methodists,” the Moravians being bound up in the branded bundle. He also wrote a long letter, under the date of October 15, to his old friend Mr. Hervey, pointing out the excellencies and defects of his “Dialogues between Theron and Aspasio.” “In the first dialogue, there are several just and strong observations, which may be of use to every serious reader.” “The description in the second is often too laboured, and the language too stiff and affected; but the reflections on the creation make abundant amends for this.” “The third and fourth dialogues contain an admirable illustration and confirmation of the great doctrine of Christ’s satisfaction; yet there are a few passages liable to exception.” In the fifth and sixth dialogues, the author unnecessarily contends for the imputation of Christ’s righteousness. “The seventh and eighth are full of important truths”; but contain sentiments and expressions to which Wesley cannot yield assent. “The ninth proves excellently well, that we cannot be justified by our works.” The tenth contains several passages to which he takes exception. The eleventh proves, by irrefragable arguments, the doctrine of original sin, and has not a single sentence liable to objection. “The twelfth, likewise, is unexceptionable; and contains,” says he, “such an illustration of the wisdom of God in the structure of the human body, as, I believe, cannot be paralleled in either ancient or modern writers.” “The former part of the thirteenth dialogue is admirable;” to the latter he had some objection.

In the same style and spirit, he criticises the “Letters,” and thus concludes his critique, which fills eighteen printed pages.

“Upon the whole, I cannot but wish, that the plan of these dialogues had been executed in a different manner. Most of the grand truths of Christianity are herein both explained and proved with great strength and clearness. Why was anything intermixed which could prevent any serious Christian’s recommending them to all mankind? anything which must necessarily render them exceptionable to so many thousands of the children of God? In practical writings, I studiously abstain from the very shadow of controversy. Nay, even in controversial, I do not willingly write one line, to which any but my opponent would object. For opinions, shall I destroy the work of God? Then am I a bigot indeed. Much more, if I would not drop any mode of expression rather than offend either Jew, or Gentile, or the church of God.

“I am, with sincerity, dear sir,

“Your affectionate brother and servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[289]

Hervey did not reply to this, but, a few years later, Wesley’s letter led to great unpleasantness, which will have to be introduced hereafter. Hervey died in 1758. Wesley lost one friend, but gained another, in some respects his superior. John Fletcher wrote to him, on November 24, 1756, as his “spiritual guide,” asking his advice respecting his entering into orders. He tells him that, seven years ago, when first converted, he resolved to dedicate himself to the service of the church, and prosecuted study with that design. Feeling himself, however, unequal to the burden of ministerial responsibilities, and “disgusted by the necessity he should be under to subscribe to the doctrine of predestination, he yielded to the desire of his friends, who wished him to go into the army.” The disappointments with which he met occasioned his leaving Switzerland, and coming to England. “Here he was thrice called outwardly to enter into orders”; but had hitherto been prevented. Six weeks ago, a gentleman had offered him a living, and a clergyman a title. The living he intended to decline, as, he thought, he “could preach with more fruit in his own country and in his own tongue”; but he wishes Wesley to decide for him, “whether he can and must make use of the offered title to go into orders. I know,” says he, “how precious is your time. I desire no long answer; _persist_, or _forbear_, will satisfy and influence, sir, your unworthy servant, JOHN FLETCHER.”[290]

Wesley said, “Persist,” and, within four months afterwards, the young Swiss, in the twenty-eighth year of his age, was ordained, at Whitehall, London; and, “on the same day, being informed that Wesley had no one to help him at West Street chapel, he left as soon as the ordination was over, and assisted him in the administration of the Lord’s supper.”[291] Wesley writes: “How wonderful are the ways of God! When my bodily strength failed, and none in England were able and willing to assist me, He sent me help from the mountains of Switzerland; and a helpmeet for me in every respect: where could I have found such another?”

Thus began the lifelong friendship of these distinguished men; and thus commenced the renowned ministry of the vicar of Madeley.

On the 13th of December, 1756, young Fletcher sent to Wesley a most interesting letter, of which the following is an extract.

“SIR,—Whenever I have received the sacrament in your chapels, though I admired the order and decency observed, I thought there was something wanting, which might make that awful part of the Divine worship still more profitable and solemn.

“As the number of communicants is generally very great, the time spent in receiving is long enough for many to feel their devotion languish for want of outward fuel. In order to prevent this, you interrupt, from time to time, the service of the table, to put up a short prayer, or to sing a verse or two of a hymn; and I do not doubt but many have found the benefit of that method. But as you can spare very little time, you are obliged to be satisfied with scattering these few drops, instead of a continual rain. Sir, would not this want be easily supplied, if you were to appoint the preachers, who may be present, to do what you cannot possibly do yourself, to pray and sing without interruption, as at a watch night?

“I take the liberty of giving you this hint, because you said lately in the society, that you heard willingly the observations of your people, and were ready to follow or improve them, if they were just or reasonable.

“I am, sir, your unworthy servant,

“JOHN FLETCHER.”[292]

Nothing now remains but to briefly notice Wesley’s publications in 1756. They were as follows.

1. “An Extract of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Journal, from July 20, 1749, to October 30, 1751.” 12mo, 107 pages.

2. “A Treatise on Baptism,” dated November 11, 1756. This was his father’s “Short Discourse on Baptism,” published in 1700. It is true, that Wesley has _slightly_ abridged and verbally altered his father’s work, but that is all; and yet he makes not the least reference whatever to its original author. In these days of sacramental controversy, it is only fair to give an extract.

“By baptism, we, who were ‘by nature children of wrath,’ are made the children of God. And this regeneration, which our Church, in so many places, ascribes to baptism, is more than barely being admitted into the church, though commonly connected therewith; being ‘grafted into the body of Christ’s church, we are made the children of God by adoption and grace.’ This is grounded on the plain words of our Lord: ‘Except a man be born again of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.’ By water then, as a means, the water of baptism, we are regenerated or born again. Herein a principle of grace is infused, which will not be wholly taken away, unless we quench the Holy Spirit of God by long continued wickedness.”

This is strong, and somewhat startling language, and yet not really stronger than Wesley uses in his sermon on the New Birth: “It is certain our Church supposes, that all who are baptized in their infancy are, at the same time, born again; and it is allowed, that the whole Office for the Baptism of Infants proceeds upon this supposition. Nor is it an objection of any weight against this, that we cannot comprehend how this work can be wrought in infants. For neither can we comprehend how it is wrought in a person of riper years.”[293] It is true, that, in the same sermon, Wesley lays it down, that “baptism and the new birth are not one and the same thing, the one being an external, and the other an internal work”; and he also asserts, that “it is sure all of riper years who are baptized are not at the same time born again”; but, in reference to infants, he unquestionably held the high church doctrine of his father. It is no part of our proposed task either to justify or to condemn this opinion; our sole object is honestly to relate facts.

3. “The Good Soldier, extracted from a Sermon preached to a company of volunteers raised in Virginia, August 17, 1755.” 12mo, 16 pages. The publication was doubtless occasioned by the threatened invasion of England, by the French, at the beginning of the year, when Wesley himself proposed to raise “for his majesty’s service a body of at least two hundred volunteers.”

4. “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. Law, occasioned by some of his late writings.” 8vo, 102 pages. This has never been entirely reprinted, an extract only being given in Wesley’s collected works.

Strangely enough, William Law,—a man of almost unequalled power and eloquence,—had become a Behmenite. Jacob Behmen, the “German theosophist,” was born of poor parents, in 1575. At the age of ten, he was apprenticed to a shoemaker; at nineteen, he became a master, and was married. At twenty-five, he fell into a trance, which lasted for seven days, and afforded him an intuitive vision of God. This was followed by others, in which his spirit was carried to the inmost world of nature, and was enabled to penetrate through the outward forms of bodies into their inward essences. At the age of thirty-seven, he began to publish his mysteries. He died in 1624, aged forty-nine. It is impossible, in a work like this, to give even the merest outline of the enthusiastic conceptions, visions, and revelations of this inventive German genius,—a motley mixture of mystical jargon, a jumble of astrological, philosophical, chemical, and theological extravagances, which he himself acknowledges no one can understand except those who have obtained illumination like his own. William Law was one of his warmest admirers, and had already published an English edition of his works in two vols., quarto.

This melancholy fact will account for the severity of Wesley’s language in the letter he addressed to Law in 1756. Wesley begins by stating, that “there are few writers in the present age, who stand in any comparison with Mr. Law, as to beauty and strength of language; readiness, liveliness, and copiousness of thought; and, in many points, accuracy of sentiment.” He acknowledges, that Law had “long employed his uncommon abilities, not to gain either honour or preferment, but to promote the glory of God, and peace and goodwill among men.” “Several of his treatises, particularly his ‘Christian Perfection,’ and ‘Serious Call,’ must remain, as long as England stands, almost unequalled standards of the strength and purity of the English language, as well as of sound, practical divinity”; and had been of immense service “in reviving and establishing true, rational, scriptural religion” among the people. Some of his late writings, however, were not of this meritorious order; and these Wesley proceeds to criticise. Law once said to Wesley, “You would have a philosophical religion; but there can be no such thing. Religion is the most plain, simple thing in the world. It is only, ‘We love Him, because He first loved us.’ So far as you add philosophy to religion, just so far you spoil it.” Wesley now retorts, and tells him there is no “writer in England, who so continually blends philosophy with religion” as himself; and, to make things worse, his philosophy is “uncertain, dangerous, irrational, and unscriptural.” “Bad philosophy, by insensible degrees, paves the way for bad divinity.” He had also done Jacob Behmen “an irreparable injury by dragging him out of his awful obscurity, and by pouring light upon his venerable darkness. Men,” says he, “may admire the deepness of the well, and the excellence of the water it contains; but, if some officious person puts a light into it, it will appear to be both very shallow and very dirty.” He concludes:—

“I have now delivered my own soul. And I have used great plainness of speech; such as I could not have prevailed on myself to use to one whom I so much respect, on any other occasion. Oh that your latter works may be more and greater than your first! Surely they would, if you could ever be persuaded to study, instead of the writings of Tauler and Behmen, those of St. Paul, James, Peter, and John; to spew out of your mouth and out of your heart that vain philosophy, and speak neither higher nor lower things, neither more nor less, than the oracles of God; to renounce, despise, abhor all the highflown bombast, all the unintelligible jargon of the mystics, and come back to the plain religion of the Bible, ‘We love Him, because He first loved us.’”

This was strong language to employ to a man like William Law, who held Jacob Behmen, the Crispin theosophist, in amazing admiration; but it was not unmerited. Whitefield pronounced Wesley’s letter “a most ungentlemanlike, injudicious, unchristian piece”;[294] but Whitefield was not so well acquainted with the Behmenite fooleries as Wesley was. Law himself was annoyed and angry, but declined to answer Wesley’s critique, on the ground, that it did “not admit of a serious answer, because there was nothing substantial or properly argumentative in it; and to answer it, in the way of ridicule,” was a thing to which he was unconquerably averse. “Mr. Wesley,” says he, “is an ingenious man, and the reason why his letter to me is such a juvenile composition of emptiness and pertness, is because it was not ability, but necessity, that put his pen into his hand. He had condemned my books, preached much against them, and forbad his people the use of them. And, for a cover to all this, he promised, from time to time, to write against them. Therefore, an answer was to be made at all adventures.[295] I was once a kind of oracle with him; and I never suspected anything bad of him, or ever discovered any kind or degree of falseness in him; but, during all the time of his intimacy with me, I judged him to be much under the power of his own spirit. Still, whatever you hear of Mr. John Wesley concerning me, or my books, let it die with you; and wish him God speed in everything that is good.”[296]

Here the controversy between Wesley and this exceedingly able and godly, though mistaken, man terminated. Five years afterwards, Mr. Law exchanged this world, where the wisest sees “through a glass, darkly,” for a higher world, where all “see face to face.”

5. The last of Wesley’s publications, in 1756, which we have to notice, was not the least important, though an octavo tract of only thirty pages. The title was, “An Address to the Clergy.” While addressed to the clergy of the Church of England especially, it was also addressed to all of every denomination, whom God had “called to watch over souls, as they that must give account.” First of all, Wesley considers what ministers ought to be, in gifts as well as in grace, 1. A minister ought to have a good understanding. 2. Some liveliness and readiness of thought. 3. A good memory. 4. Knowledge of his own office; of the Scriptures; of Hebrew and Greek; of profane history; of the sciences, including logic; of metaphysics; of natural philosophy; of geometry; of the fathers. 5. Common sense. 6. Good breeding. 7. A strong, clear, musical voice, and a good delivery. In reference to grace, Wesley contends that a minister must have: (1) A single intention to glorify God, and to save souls; (2) an eminent measure of love to God, and to all his brethren; (3) he must be an example to his flock, in his private and public character.

The second part of the pamphlet is devoted to the inquiry, Are ministers what they ought to be? Wesley strongly denounces the old adage: “The boy, if he is fit for nothing else, will do well enough for a parson.” Acting upon this had introduced “dull, heavy, blockish ministers; the jest of every pert fool, and of every airy coxcomb that they met.” Men entering the ministry for honour, or for income, are pronounced many degrees beneath Simon Magus, who instead of seeking the gift of God to get money, offered money to obtain the gift. “What a creature,” he writes, “is a covetous, an ambitious, a luxurious, an indolent, a diversion loving clergyman! Is it any wonder that infidelity should increase, where any of these are found?”

In the publication of this pamphlet, Wesley probably aimed at a twofold object:—1. To give a new impulse to the Church of England, to awaken its dormant zeal, to infuse life into its lifeless ministers; and thus prevent the necessity of a separation. 2. To curb the ambition of his own lay preachers, by setting before them a ministerial standard, of which, in some respects, most of them fell immeasurably short. Was this object realised? This is a question which succeeding chapters will help to answer. At present, it is only fair to add, that it is somewhat difficult to reconcile Wesley’s pamphlet with Wesley’s letter already given, bearing date, August 31, 1756.

Wesley’s “Address to the Clergy” was not left to pass unchallenged.

William Law, still smarting from Wesley’s castigation, remarks in a letter, dated April 10, 1757: “Wesley’s Babylonish ‘Address to the Clergy’ is empty babble, fitter for an old grammarian, who has grown blear eyed in mending dictionaries, than for one who has tasted the powers of the world to come, and has found the truth as it is in Jesus.”[297] Alas! William Law!

An unknown clergyman also issued a sixpenny pamphlet, entitled, “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, occasioned by his Address to the Clergy. By one of the Clergy.” The writer accuses Wesley of spiritual pride and presumption, and adduces extracts to support his charge; but, in all other respects, the production is unimportant. Another tract, however, of the same size, was published a few months later, and is more puzzling. “An Expostulatory Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, occasioned by his Address to the Clergy,” begins thus:—“We, W. B., G. C., J. M., etc., do, in behalf of ourselves and many others, who, by your appointment, instigation, or encouragement, have undertaken to preach the gospel of Christ, beg leave, in the spirit of meekness and love, to expostulate with you.” And then these pretending disciples proceed very shrewdly to attack, not only the “Address,” but likewise Wesley’s late translation of the New Testament. Was this a genuine production? We cannot tell. If not spurious, it was of great importance.

1757.

[Sidenote: 1757 Age 54]

In 1757, Charles Wesley seems to have ceased, to a great extent, to itinerate as a Methodist preacher. His journeys became less frequent and extensive, till his ministrations were chiefly confined to Bristol and London, with occasional visits to some intermediate and surrounding places. Why was this? The answer must be conjectural. It is a curious fact, that no document in his handwriting, bearing the date of 1757, is known to be in existence; nor even the fragment of a letter, of the same period, addressed to him by his brother. Some have attributed the cessation of his itinerancy to his marriage; and there is doubtless some truth in this. A regard for the feelings and society of his noble wife, with the care of his infant children, probably contributed to the change which now took place;[298] but the principal cause of his settling down was, unquestionably, the state of feeling which existed in many of the societies and preachers with regard to the Established Church. His brother thought, that separation was _inexpedient_, but could not regard it in the heinous light in which it appeared to Charles. Wesley was inclined to treat the disaffected with gentleness and persuasiveness; Charles was for the adoption of strong and compulsory measures. Their policy was different, and this was an obvious difficulty. Charles could not visit the societies as a mere friend, or as one of the ordinary preachers. He must appear as possessing a co-ordinate authority with his brother; and, their views being so widely different, it became impossible for them to regulate the societies in perfect concert. Hence, he doubtless thought it best to exercise a more settled ministry, and to leave the people and the preachers generally in the hands of John. Still, to the end of life, he retained his union with the Methodists, and rendered important service, though in a more limited sphere than he had been wont to occupy. The effect of his retirement, so far as he was personally concerned, was the reverse of favourable. His mind was naturally of a somewhat melancholy cast; but, amid the excitement of the itinerancy, he had no time to indulge in morbid feeling. When he ceased to travel, he was at leisure to cherish his gloomy forebodings. Croakers and busybodies tormented him with letters, complaining of the ambition of the preachers, and of the alienation of the people from the Church. Often was he in agonies of fear lest the Methodists should become Dissenters; while his brother was as happy as an angel, flying through the three kingdoms, sounding the trumpet of the world’s jubilee, and joyfully witnessing, every successive year, the steady advancement of the work of God.[299]

Whitefield spent about half of the year 1757 in the metropolis, and the remainder in evangelistic tours in England, Scotland, and Ireland. He preached fifty times, in twenty-five days, in the city of Edinburgh; attended the sittings of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland; and, by invitation, dined with the lord high commissioner. In Dublin he was well-nigh murdered. Attended by a soldier and four Methodist preachers, he repaired to Oxmanton Green, near the barracks, and sang, prayed, and preached, with no further molestation than the throwing of a few stones and clods. It being a time of war, he exhorted the people “not only to fear God, but to honour the best of kings, and then prayed for success to the _Prussian arms_.” On leaving the ground, “hundreds and hundreds of papists” surrounded him; volleys of stones were thrown at him; and, at every step he took, a fresh stone struck him, till he was red with blood. For a while, his strong beaver hat served to protect his head; but this, at last, was lost in the affray. Blows and wounds were multiplied; and, every moment, he expected, like Stephen, “to go off in this bloody triumph to the immediate presence of his Master.” Providentially, the door of a minister’s house was opened, and here he found a temporary refuge. On entering, he was speechless, but gradually revived, when the minister’s wife desired his absence, fearing that his presence would lead to the destruction of her dwelling. What to do he knew not, being nearly two miles from Wesley’s home for preachers. At length, a carpenter offered him his wig and coat to disguise himself; but, just at the same moment, a Methodist preacher and two other friends, brought a coach. “I leaped into it,” he writes, “and rode in gospel triumph, through the oaths, curses, and imprecations of whole streets of papists. The weeping, mourning, but now joyful Methodists received me with inconceivable affection; a Christian surgeon dressed my wounds; and then I went into the preaching place, and joined in a hymn of praise and thanksgiving to Him, who stills the noise of the waves, and the madness of the most malignant people. Next morning, I set out for Portarlington, and left my persecutors to His mercy, who out of persecutors hath often made preachers.”[300]

This was barbarous treatment, and suggests a sad idea of the political and religious bitterness of Irish papists a hundred years ago. Poor Ireland! Whitefield declares, that, so far as he could learn, there was not a single minister in the whole of Ireland, either among Churchmen or Dissenters, who was faithfully and boldly witnessing for God and Christ.[301]

Wesley spent the first two months of 1757 in London, where, including the sacrament, one of his sabbath services usually lasted for about five successive hours. In fact, he considered his sabbath work, in London, equal to preaching eight sermons.

At the end of February, he paid a brief visit to Norwich, and made arrangements for the rebuilding of the Foundery, which the Norwich Methodists were using as a meeting-house, an unknown friend having given him money enough for that purpose.

After returning to London, he and Thomas Walsh visited the Methodist soldiers at Canterbury; and also made a preaching excursion to Beaconsfield and to High Wycombe. On Monday, the 11th of April, he held a covenant service at Spitalfields, at which twelve hundred Methodists met him, and which lasted for above five hours. Next morning, he set out on a four months’ tour to the north of England.

His first halting place was Bedford; where the mayor of the town, Mr. Parker, was his host. Mr. Parker, we believe, was the first Methodist that ever filled the chair of a chief magistrate. Wesley writes: “Mr. Parker hath not borne the sword in vain. There is no cursing or swearing heard in the streets of Bedford; no work done on the Lord’s day; indeed, no open wickedness of any kind.” For about forty years this mayor of Bedford was an “artless,” but useful local preacher. He was a nursing father to the Bedford Methodists; a fine example of good works to all who knew him; and triumphantly went to heaven, in 1785, at the age of eighty.

From Bedford, Wesley proceeded to Leicester, Birmingham, Dudley, Nantwich, Chester, and Liverpool. At the last mentioned town, James Scholefield, an expelled itinerant, had swept away half the society by telling “lies innumerable.” It was probably this first Liverpool division which induced Wesley to spend nearly a fortnight in the town and neighbourhood. He was introduced to Mr. Peter Whitefield, a man of strong understanding, whose “Dissertation in Defence of the Hebrew Points” Wesley considered the best that he ever read. He also had an interview with a novel kind of husband, “who, by the advice of his pastor, had, very calmly and deliberately, beaten his wife with a large stick, till she was black and blue, almost from head to foot.” The man insisted, that it was his duty to do this, because his wife “was surly and ill natured; and, that he was full of faith all the time he was doing it, and had been so ever since.”

From Liverpool, Wesley went to Warrington and to Manchester. He then rode over the mountains to Huddersfield, and says: “A wilder people I never saw in England. The men, women, and children filled the street as we rode along, and appeared just ready to devour us. They were, however, tolerably quiet while I preached; only a few pieces of dirt were thrown, and the bellman came in the middle of the sermon. I had almost done when they began to ring the bells.” The next few days were spent at Bradford, Birstal, Halifax, Heptonstall, Ewood, and Gawksham.

Gawksham was “a lone house, on the side of an enormous mountain, where the congregation stood and sat, row above row, in the sylvan theatre.” “I believe,” says Wesley, “nothing on the postdiluvian earth can be more pleasant than the road from hence, between huge, steep mountains, clothed with wood to the top, and washed at the bottom by a clear, winding stream.” At the “lone house,” in this grandly picturesque region, there was, in 1763, a society of forty-seven members, one of whom was David Lacy, who, as a young man, had been turned out of doors by his father, for becoming a Methodist, and, who, in his leisure hours, made besoms in order to save money to pay his pence at class. David became a leader, retained his Christian simplicity to the end, and died, possessed of considerable wealth, in 1803, at the advanced age of eighty-three.[302]

Leaving Gawksham, Wesley went to Padiham, and preached to “a large, wild congregation.” One of his wild auditors was Robert Worsick, whose grandmother ran after Wesley, brandishing an axe, and threatening she would kill him. A chapel was built the year after, the trustees of which were Grimshaw, the incumbent of Haworth, and James Hunter and Jonas Moor, who were weavers.[303]

At Bingley, Wesley had the genteelest congregation he had lately seen. At Haworth, he had to preach in the churchyard, the congregation being three times larger than the church would hold; while, at the sacramental service following, he and Grimshaw had nearly a thousand communicants. After this, he hurried off to Whitehaven, Cockermouth, and Wigton. In a letter to his friend Blackwell, he writes:—

“WHITEHAVEN, _May 28, 1757_.

“DEAR SIR,—In every place, people flock about me for direction in secular as well as spiritual affairs; and I dare not throw even this burden off my shoulders, though I have employment enough without it. But it is a burden, and no burden; it is no incumbrance, no weight upon my mind. If we see God in all things, and do all for Him, then all things are easy. I think it is fourteen or fifteen days since my wife wrote to me. I am afraid she is not well.

“I am, dear sir, your most affectionate servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[304]

Wesley now proceeded to Glasgow, where he was welcomed by Mr. Gillies, and preached in the yard of the poorhouse. He “met the members of the praying societies, and earnestly advised them to meet Mr. Gillies every week; and, at their other meetings, not to talk loosely and generally (as their manner had been) on some head of religion, but to examine each other’s hearts and lives.”

At Musselburgh, he was the guest of Bailiff Lindsey, and preached in the poorhouse; two thirds of the society “knew in whom they had believed”; and between forty and fifty dragoons were present.

He found a small society at Dunbar, and went into the street, “and began speaking to a congregation of two men and two women,” which was “soon joined by about twenty little children, and, not long after, by a large number of young and old.”

At Kelso, he and William Coward, “a wise and good man,” who died in 1770, and for whom Wesley preached a funeral sermon, went to the market-house, but “neither man, woman, nor child came near them.” At length, Wesley began singing a Scotch psalm; in due time, a congregation gathered; Wesley used “keen and cutting expressions,” and says: “I believe many felt, for all their form, they were but heathens still.”

He now made his way towards Newcastle. He writes: “About noon, I stood in the street at Wooler; and I might stand; for no creature came near me, till I had sung part of a psalm. Then a row of children stood before me; and, in some time, about a hundred men and women. I spoke full as plain as I did at Kelso; and pharisees themselves are not out of God’s reach.”

At Alnwick, the courthouse was too small for his congregation, and he was obliged to go into the market-place. “O what a difference,” he remarks, “between these living stones, and the dead, unfeeling multitudes in Scotland!”

Coming to Placey, he writes: “The society of colliers here may be a pattern to all the societies in England. No person ever misses his band or class; they have no jar of any kind among them; but, with one heart and one mind, provoke one another to love and to good works. After preaching, I met the society in a room as warm as any in Georgia.”

At Sunderland, he told the society “none could stay with us, unless he would part with all sin; particularly robbing the king, selling or buying smuggled goods; which he could no more suffer, than robbing on the highway.” “A few would not promise to refrain”; these were expelled; “but about two hundred and fifty were of a better mind.”

At Chester-le-street, observing “some very fine, but not very modest, pictures, in the parlour” where he supped, he desired his companion to put them where they could do no hurt; and, accordingly, they were “piled on a heap in a corner of the room.”

Having spent three weeks at Newcastle and in the neighbourhood, he started on the 4th of July for London.

At Durham, he preached in a meadow, near the river, to a congregation “large and wild.” At Hartlepool, he found, that the Rev. William Romaine “had been the instrument of awakening several; but, for want of help, they soon slept again.” At Stockton, he preached in the street, and “none but two or three gentlemen seemed unconcerned.” At Yarm, he preached near the market-place. “Many gentry were there, and all serious.” “I find,” says he, “in all these parts, a solid, serious people, quite simple of heart, strangers to various opinions, and seeking only the faith that worketh by love.” On July 6, he preached at Osmotherley, where the rustic society, according to their old account book, were put to the enormous expense of half-a-crown “for Mr. John Wesley, William Fugill, and Michael Fenwick.” From Osmotherley, he “rode through one of the pleasantest parts of England to Hawnby,” where the zealous landlord had turned all the Methodists out of their houses. “This,” says he, “proved a singular kindness; for they built some little houses at the end of the town, in which forty or fifty of them live together.” One of these was William Hewgill, the grandfather of the eloquent and popular Rev. John Bumby; a most worthy man, who with a few of the ostracised Methodists walked sixty miles to Newcastle to hear Wesley preach, and at whose invitation he now came to the moorland village in which they dwelt.

Proceeding to Robinhood’s Bay, Wesley preached to “the greatest part of the town; and all, except one or two, who were very wise in their own eyes, seemed to receive the truth in love.” The next three days were the hottest he ever knew in England. At Slingsby, he met with a clergyman, an old acquaintance of his father’s; the congregation was attentive, none making disturbance, except one poor drunkard. At York, he set a subscription on foot for building a more commodious room in Peasholm Green, which he afterwards opened, in April, 1759, Dr. Cockburn, an old schoolfellow, residing in Aldwark, but not a Methodist, giving £100.[305] At Pocklington, he preached in the street; a large mob assembled; and, for “fear they should not make noise enough, the good churchwarden hired men to ring the bells.” At Epworth, he “preached in the market-place to a listening multitude;” at Laceby, in a meadow; and, at Grimsby, in the new meeting-house just finished. At Misterton, he preached to the largest congregation he had seen since he left Newcastle; and “all behaved with deep seriousness, except a baptist preacher.” At Clayworth, “none were unmoved, but Michael Fenwick; who fell fast asleep under an adjoining hayrick.” At Rotherham, he addressed the largest congregation that Rotherham had ever witnessed. At Sheffield, he wrote: “How quiet is this country now, since the chief persecutors are no more seen! How many of them have been snatched away in an hour when they looked not for it! Some time since, a woman of Thorpe often swore she would wash her hands in the heart’s blood of the next preacher that came. But, before the next preacher came, she was carried to her long home. A little before John Johnson settled at Wentworth, a stout, healthy man, who lived there, told his neighbours: ‘After May-day we shall have nothing but praying and preaching; but I will make noise enough to stop it.’ But before May-day he was silent in his grave. A servant of Lord R—— was as bitter as he, and told many lies purposely to make mischief: but, before this was done, his mouth was stopped. He was drowned in one of the fishponds.”

On reaching London, Wesley at once held his annual conference, which continued from the 4th to the 11th of August. “From the first hour to the last,” says he, “there was no jarring string, but all was harmony and love.” This is all that is known of the conference of 1757, except that the Church question was again discussed. Hence the following letters, written soon after. The first was addressed to the Rev. Mr. Walker, of Truro, “on his advising Wesley to give up the Methodist societies to their several ministers.”

“HELSTONE, _September 16, 1757_.

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—Nothing can be more kind than the mentioning what you think is amiss in my conduct. The more freedom you use in doing this, the more I am indebted to you.

“Two years since, eleven or twelve persons of Falmouth were members of our society. Last year, I was informed, that a young man there had begun to teach them new opinions, and that, soon after, offence and prejudice crept in, and increased till they were all torn asunder. What they have done since I know not; for they have no connection with us. I do ‘exert myself’ so far, as to separate from us those that separate from the Church. But, in a thousand other instances, I feel the want of more resolution and firmness of spirit. I exercise as little authority as possible, because I am afraid of the people depending upon me too much, and paying me more reverence than they ought.

“You say, ‘If you believed Mr. V——[306] to be a gracious person and a gospel minister, why did you not, in justice to your people, leave them to him?’

“There are several reasons why I did not do this. 1. No one mentioned or intimated any such thing, nor did it once enter into my thoughts. But if it had,—2. I do not know, that every one who preaches the truth has wisdom and experience to guide and govern a flock. 3. I do not know, whether Mr. V—— would or could give that flock all the advantages for holiness which they now enjoy; and to leave them to him, before I was assured of this, would be neither justice nor mercy. 4. Unless they also were assured of this, they could not in conscience give up themselves to him; and I have neither right nor power to dispose of them contrary to their conscience.

“‘But they are already his by legal establishment.’ If they receive the sacrament from him thrice a year, and attend the ministrations on the Lord’s day, I see no more which the law requires. But, to go a little deeper into this matter of _legal establishment_—does Mr. Canon or you think, that the king and parliament have a right to prescribe to me what pastor I shall use? If they prescribe one which I know God never sent, am I obliged to receive him? If he be sent of God, can I receive him, with a clear conscience, till I know he is? And even when I do, if I believe my former pastor is more profitable to my soul, can I leave him without sin? Or has any man living a right to require this of me? Before I could, with a clear conscience, leave the Methodist society even to such an one, all these considerations must come in.

“And with regard to the people,—far from thinking, that ‘the withdrawing our preachers’ from such a society, without their consent, would prevent a separation from the Church, I think, it would be the direct way to cause it. While we are with them, our advice has weight, and keeps them to the Church. But were we totally to withdraw, it would be of little or no weight. Nay, perhaps, resentment of our unkindness (as it would appear to them) would prompt them to act in flat opposition to it.

“‘And will it not be the same at your death?’ I believe not: for I believe there will be no resentment in this case. And the last advice of a dying friend is not likely to be soon forgotten.

“At our late conference, I proposed the question, ‘What can be done, in order to a close union with the clergy, who preach the truth?’ We all agreed, that nothing could be more desirable. I, in particular, have long desired it; not from any view to my own ease or honour, or temporal convenience of any kind; but, because I was deeply convinced, it might be a blessing to my own soul, and a means of increasing the general work of God.

“But you say, ‘Really, before it can be effected, something must be done on your part.’ Tell me what, and I will do it without delay; however contrary it may be to my ease, or natural inclination: provided only, that it consists with my keeping a good conscience toward God and toward man.

“But you add, ‘Paying us visits can serve no other purpose, than to bring us under needless difficulties.’ But what difficulties are those? All that are the necessary consequence of sharing our reproach. And what reproach is it which we bear? Is it the reproach of Christ, or not? It arose first, while my brother and I were at Oxford, from our endeavouring to be real Christians. It was increased abundantly when we began to preach repentance and remission of sins; and insisting, that we are justified by faith. For this cause, were we excluded from preaching in the churches; and this exclusion occasioned our preaching elsewhere, with the other irregularities that followed. Therefore, all the reproach consequent thereon is no other than the reproach of Christ.