AGED FORTY.
From a scarce Engraving published in 1743.
Engraved by J. Cochran.

Founder of the Methodists.

BY THE

Rev. L. TYERMAN,

AUTHOR OF “THE LIFE AND TIMES OF REV. S. WESLEY, M.A.,”
(Father of the Revds. J. and C. Wesley).

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. I.

NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1872.

Six Lives of Wesley have been already published, besides sketches almost innumerable. What then justifies the present writer in publishing another?

Hampson’s, ready for the press when Wesley died, is extremely meagre, and was the work of an angry writer. Coke and Moore’s, issued in 1792, was a hasty publication, written currente calamo, to get possession of the market; and, like most things done in haste, was exceedingly imperfect. Whitehead’s, dated 1793-6, was composed in the midst of disgraceful contentions, and was tinged with party feeling. Southey’s, printed in 1820, has literary charms; but, unintentionally, is full of errors, and, for want of dates and chronological exactitude, is extremely confusing. Moore’s, published in 1824, is the fullest and most reliable; but, to a great extent, it is a mere reprint of Whitehead’s, given to the public about thirty years previously. Watson’s, issued in 1831, was not intended to supersede larger publications, but was “contracted within moderate limits, and” avowedly “prepared with special reference to general readers.”

These are the chief Lives of Wesley. Smaller ones are too numerous to be mentioned; and, besides that, they are not lives, but sketches.

The publications of Hampson, of Coke and Moore, of Whitehead, and of Moore, have long been out of print. Two Lives are still on sale,—Southey’s and Watson’s; but the former is defective in details, and is incorrect and misleading; and the latter, as already stated, was never meant to occupy the place of a larger work.

It has long been confessed that a Life of Wesley, worthy of the man, is a desideratum. Hampson, Coke, Moore, and Whitehead used, with a sparing hand, the materials which[Pg iv] were already accessible to all, and added a few original papers, for the preservation of which every one feels grateful. Southey acknowledges that he “had no private sources of information”; and, in the list of books from which his materials were chiefly taken, we find nothing but what is in the hands of most Methodist students. Watson says, he had “the advantage of consulting unpublished papers”; but it is not injustice to Watson, to say that very few of these “unpublished papers” were embodied in his book.

This is not ill natured depreciation of previous biographers, all of whom I revere, and wish to honour. But any ordinary reader, who will take the trouble, may easily perceive, that the Lives of Wesley that have been published, during the last seventy-six years, have contained no additional information worth naming.

In this interval, Wesley has yearly been growing in historic fame, until he is now, among all parties,—Churchmen, Methodists and Dissenters, papists, protestants and infidels, statesmen, philosophers and men of letters,—one of the greatest and most interesting studies of the age. The world wishes to know something more respecting the man, who, under God, was the means of bringing about the greatest reformation of modern times. Since the publications of Whitehead, Coke and Moore—his literary executors—innumerable letters and other manuscripts have come to light; but no subsequent biographer has used them. Besides, in the magazines, newspapers, broadsheets, pamphlets, tracts, and songs, published during Wesley’s lifetime, there is a mine of biographical material incalculably rich; but, hitherto, no one has taken the trouble to delve and to explore it.

Ought this apathy and negligence to continue longer? Is it right to keep the world, the church, and especially the Methodists, in ignorance of what exists concerning one of the most remarkable men that ever lived? I think not; and, hence, as no one else attempted it, I have done my best to collect these scattered facts, and to give them to the public in the following volumes.

For seventeen years, materials have been accumulating in[Pg v] my hands. My own mass of original manuscripts is large. Thousands of Methodist letters have been lent to me. Hundreds, almost thousands, of publications, issued in Wesley’s lifetime, and bearing on the great Methodist movement, have been consulted. Many of Wesley’s letters, hitherto published only in periodicals, or in scarce books, have been used; and not a few that, up to the present, have never yet appeared in print. To mention all who have rendered me generous assistance is almost impossible; but I cannot deny myself the pleasure of naming the late Rev. Joseph Entwisle, Mr. Joseph Miller, of Newcastle, Mr. George Stevenson, of Paternoster Row, and last, but not least, the Rev. Elijah Hoole, D.D., for the ready access he gave me to the collection of manuscripts in the Wesleyan Mission House.

My greatest difficulty has been, not the want of materials, but that of making selections, and of giving in a condensed form all that I thought important. Nothing, likely to be of general interest, has been withheld. Nothing, derogatory to the subject of these memoirs, has been kept back. Whatever else the work may be, it is honest.

I have tried to make Wesley his own biographer. I have not attempted what may be called the philosophy of Wesley’s life. I leave that to others. As a rule, intelligent readers wish only to be possessed of facts. They can form their own conclusions; and care but little about the opinions of those by whom the facts are collected and narrated. The temptation to moralise has oft been great; but I have tried to practise self denial. Wesley was not a designing man: cunning he had none: he was a man of one idea: his sole aim was to save souls. This was the philosophy of his life. All his actions had reference to this. He had no preconceived plans; and, hence, it is needless to speculate about his motives. The man is best known by what he did; not by what philosophers may suspect he thought. Holding these opinions, my one object has been to collect, collate, and register unvarnished facts; and I hope I have not altogether failed.

Much that is false, or erroneous, concerning Wesley, has[Pg vi] been published; and it would have been an easy task to have refuted not a few of the statements which even Methodists as well as others have been accustomed to receive without gainsaying; but I had no room for this. Besides, I had no wish to assume the part of a controversialist. Comparison will show, that, in several instances, I differ from previous biographers; but I would rather that the reader should discover this for himself, than that I should state it. It may savour of unpardonable temerity to disagree with the distinguished men who have gone before me; but, if attacked, I am prepared to defend the ground that I have taken. To avoid encumbering the margin, I have omitted thousands of references; but I have them, and can give them, if required.

The work has been arduous; but it has been a work of love. I have not done what I wished, but what I could. A more literary and philosophic writer might have been employed; but no labour has been spared in pursuit of facts, and there has been no tampering with honour and honesty in stating them.

The Portrait inserted in Vol. I. is taken from an exceedingly scarce engraving, published in 1743, and made from a painting by J. Williams. It is more than probable that this was the first likeness of Wesley ever taken.

I only add, that I hope the reader will find the general Index at the end of Vol. III. to be accurate and useful.

L. TYERMAN.

Clapham Park,
July 5th, 1870.

INTRODUCTION.

Methodism, its Greatness—Christianity during the first two centuries—Lutheran Reformation—Statistics of “Wesleyan” Methodism—Welsh Calvinistic Methodists—Countess of Huntingdon’s Connexion—Methodist New Connexion—Band Room Methodists—Primitive Methodists—Bible Christians—Primitive Methodists in Ireland—United Methodist Free Churches—Wesleyan Reform Union—Other Methodist Bodies—Methodists in America—Other Churches benefited by Methodism—Sunday Schools—Bible Society—London and Church Missionary Societies—Tract Societies—Dispensaries—Strangers’ Friend Society—Chapels—Newspapers—An immense Organisation, and its Results

1-13

CHAPTER I.

WESLEY AT HOME, AT SCHOOL, AND AT COLLEGE.
1703-1725.

Wesley’s Birth—The Wesley Family—Fire at Epworth—Teaching of Wesley’s Mother—Wesley’s Seriousness—Wesley at the Charterhouse—Ambition—Backsliding—Ghosts—Original Letter—Wesley at Oxford—A thankful Janitor—Wesley Ill and in Debt—Original Letters—Dr. Cheyne—Original Letters—Wesley wishes to become a Minister—Letters respecting this—Wesley finds his first religious Friend—Thomas à Kempis and Jeremy Taylor—Wesley begins his Journal—Turning point in Wesley’s history—Original Letter—Other Letters

15-41

CHAPTER II.

WESLEY’S ORDINATION, ETC.
1725-1729.

State of England—Dr. Potter—Wesley and Voltaire—Wesley’s First Sermon—A Funeral Sermon—Elected Fellow of Lincoln College—Letter from his Father—Letters to his Brother Samuel—At Epworth and Wroote—Writing Poetry and Hymns—Elected Greek Lecturer—His first Convert—Robert Kirkham—Courtship—William Law—Methodist Doctrines—The Mystics—Wesley becomes M.A.—Gets rid of unprofitable Friends—Plan of Studies—Becomes his father’s Curate—Ordained a Priest—Wroote—Wesley recalled to Oxford[Pg viii]

42-59

CHAPTER III.

OXFORD METHODISM, ETC.
1729-1735.

Distinguished Men—National Immorality—Methodism needed—Infidelity at Oxford—First Methodists at Oxford—Their Daily Life—Nicknames—Gambold on Wesley—A Starving Girl—Early Rising—Earnest Piety—Wesley has the offer of a Curacy—His Correspondence with Mary Granville—A Query—Wesley’s Walk to Epworth—Methodist Sacramentarian Theory—Letter from Mr. Clayton—Methodism attacked in Fogg’s Weekly Journal—First printed Defence of Methodism—Wesley’s Sermon before the University—First Publication—Female Methodists at Oxford—High Churchism—Wesley urged to become his father’s Successor—Correspondence respecting this—Wesley’s last Letter from his Father—Application for Epworth Rectory—Whitefield—Wesley’s Publications

60-107

CHAPTER IV.

MISSION TO GEORGIA.
1735-1737.

Dispersion of Oxford Methodists—James Hutton—Dr. Burton—Oglethorpe—Emigrants to Georgia—Saltzburghers—Other Georgian Emigrants—America in 1735—Wesley’s Reasons for going to Georgia—Letter to his Brother Samuel—Fellow Voyagers—Daily Life on Shipboard—Detention at Cowes—Covenant in the Isle of Wight—Ingham on the Moravians—The Voyage—Savannah—Indians of Georgia—Spangenberg meets Wesley—Tomo-Chichi—Wesley on the Moravians—Begins his Ministry in Georgia—A large Parish—C. Wesley and Ingham in hot water—Wesley and Delamotte at Frederica—C. Wesley returns to England—Original Letters to Wesley from Richard Morgan, Sir John Thorold, and William Chapman—Wesley on the Mystics—Delamotte’s School—Ingham’s Return to England—Wesley on Missionaries—Oglethorpe in Trouble—Original Letters to Wesley—Wesley’s cheerful Religion—Life at Savannah—A Bad Woman—Wesley goes Barefoot—Whitefield thinks of becoming Bishop—Wesley wants Helpers—Thomas Causton—Miss Hopkey—Unfriendly Rumours—Extracts from Wesley’s unpublished Journal—Proposed Marriage—High Churchism—An Excommunication—Wesley Arrested—Letter to Mrs. Williamson—Extracts from Wesley’s private Journal—List of Grievances—Further Facts from Wesley’s manuscript Journal—Findings of the Jury—Wesley Superseded—Immense Labours—Great Excitement in Savannah—Wesley’s Farewell Sermons—Departure—In a Swamp—Companions—Sets sail for England—Storms encountered—Wesley on Conversion, Faith, etc.—Wesley’s Mission to Georgia not a Failure[Pg ix]

108-170

CHAPTER V.

WESLEY IN TRANSITION.
1738.

Whitefield goes to Georgia—He returns to England—Crime and Criminals—Wesley’s Labours in 1738—Wesley almost a Christian—Doctrines which Wesley was taught by Bohler—When and how was Wesley converted?—Peter Bohler—Wesley in heaviness—His Sermon on “Salvation by Faith”—Doctrines which gave birth to Methodism—Wesley in search of Truth—A petulant Letter to William Law—Further Correspondence—Moravian Follies—Mrs. Hutton and her Lodgers—Correspondence with Samuel Wesley—Strange Confessions—Wesley in a Labyrinth—He becomes a member of the Moravian Society—Rules of Fetter Lane Society—Wesley goes to Germany—Watteville—Cologne—Marienborn—Wesley, under Zinzendorf’s management, turns gardener—Herrnhuth—Christian David—Experiences of Herrnhuthers—Their Daily Life—Wesley returns to London—Letters to the Herrnhuthers and Zinzendorf—Wesley and Bishop Gibson—William Warburton—First Sermons against the Methodists—Wesley’s Rules for Band Societies—His first Hymn-Book

171-211

PART II.

1739.

London in 1739—Moorfields—Metropolitan Depravity—Provincial ditto—Religious Revival in New England—Howel Harris and the Revival in Wales—Great Religious Movement in Scotland—Wesley shut out of Churches—Unpublished Letter from Wesley to Whitefield—A Fracas at St. Margaret’s, Westminster—Whitefield begins Out-door Preaching—Remarkable Lovefeast in Fetter Lane—A Conference at Islington—Haziness—Interviews with Bishops—Wesley’s Labours in London—Answers to Prayer—Original Letter from Whitefield to Wesley—Wesley becomes an Out-door Preacher—Sermons preached by Wesley in 1739—Reasons assigned for Out-door Preaching—Methodist Congregations—“Beau” Nash and Wesley—Persecution—The Scots Magazine—Rev. Ralph Skerrett, D.D.—Rev. John Wilder, M.A.—Rev. Charles Wheatley, M.A.—Rev. Henry Stebbing, D.D.—Rev. Joseph Trapp, D.D.—Rev. Tristam Land, M.A.—Whitefield Abused—Rev. Josiah Tucker—Bishop Gibson—Whitefield’s Reply to Gibson—Wesley and the Bishop of Bristol—Another Attack on Whitefield—The Weekly Miscellany—“The Methodists, a Burlesque Poem”—Rev. James Bate, M.A.—Doddridge on the Methodists—Rev. Joseph Williams,[Pg x] of Kidderminster, and C. Wesley—“Religious Societies”—Strange Scenes at Bristol, Kingswood, and London—Whitefield respecting them—C. Wesley Condemns them—Rev. Ralph Erskine and others, concerning them—Wesley’s Opinion—Kingswood—Kingswood School—First Methodist Chapel Built—The London Foundery—John Cennick, Methodism’s first Lay Preacher—Lay Preaching—Partly unpublished Letter from Whitefield to Wesley—Moravian Heresies—First Methodist Society Founded—Adventures—Differences between Wesley and the Clergy—Wesley and his Mother—Death of Wesley’s Brother, Samuel—Wesley’s Publications in 1739

213-291

1740.

Wesley Robbed—Visit to the Thieves—Strange Occurrences at Bristol—Happy Deaths—The Wesleys at Bristol and Kingswood—Philip Henry Molther—Letters by Molther and James Hutton—Work done by the Moravians—Hutton attacks Wesley—Wesley and the Moravians—Rev. George Stonehouse—Original Letter from Ingham to Wesley—Moravian Disputes—Wesley Expelled from Moravian Pulpits—Wesley’s Letter to the Herrnhuthers—Another Bone of Contention—Unpublished Letter from Whitefield to Wesley—Calvinian Correspondence—Wesley’s Sermon on “Free Grace”—Pamphlets for and against it—Howel Harris on Calvinism—Whitefield’s Answer to “Free Grace”—Whitefield and Wesley separate—Anti-Methodist Publications—Thomas Whiston, A.B.—Rev. Zachary Grey, LL.D.—Aquila Smyth—The Weekly Miscellany—Rev. Alexander Garden—“The Expounder Expounded”—“The Imposture of Methodism Displayed”—Other Publications—Dr. Daniel Waterland—Μεθοδεια—Brutal Treatment—Wesley’s Success and Activity—First Watch-night Meeting—Wesley’s Publications in 1740

292-335

1741.

Whitefield Itinerating—C. Wesley and the Moravians—Wesley among the Moravians in the Midland Counties—Interview with Zinzendorf—Lady Huntingdon and C. Wesley—Methodism’s first Martyr—Whitefield in Trouble—Wesley and John Cennick—The first Methodist Schism—The first Methodist Newspaper—Wesley’s Calvinistic Concessions—Attempted Reunion—Wesley and his Societies—Methodist Visitors—Methodist Tickets—Triumphant Deaths—Persecution—The Scots Magazine—The Gentleman’s Magazine—The Weekly Miscellany—Proposed Methodist Edifice on Blackheath—Horrible Outrages—Wesley Preaches before Oxford University—Seriously Ill—Pamphlets against Methodism—William Fleetwood—Joseph Hart—Arthur Bedford, M.A.—Wesley’s Publications in 1741[Pg xi]

336-368

1742.

Wesley’s Defence of his Lay Preachers—Whitefield Preaching in Moorfields—Wesley and Whitefield Reunited—Bitter Attacks on Whitefield in Scotland—Rev. Henry Piers—Formation of Methodist Classes—Wesley’s first Visit to the North—Miss Cooper—Wesley at Bristol—Newcastle on Tyne in 1742—Wesley Preaching there—At Epworth—Wesley and John Whitelamb—Death of Wesley’s Mother—Charles Caspar Graves—C. Wesley forms a Methodist Society at Newcastle—Wesley’s “Orphan House”—Dross mixed with Gold—Persecution—Wesley’s Publications in 1742—Methodist Singing

369-400

1743.

Incidents in Wesley’s Travels—Organisation of Calvinistic Methodists—Newcastle Circuit—Comedy turned into Tragedy—Wesley repelled from the Lord’s Supper—A Magdalen at Grimsby—Terrible Riots in Staffordshire—“Honest Munchin”—Cornwall—C. Wesley at St. Ives—A Trine Conference proposed—Wesley Pastoralizing—Two more London Chapels taken—Methodist Stewards—Methodist Income—Letter from Wesley to his Sister Emily—Persecutions—Wesley to a northern Pamphleteer—Rev. John Andrews, M.A.—“A fine Picture of Enthusiasm”—“The Methodist Unmasked”—Rules of the Methodist Societies—“Thoughts on Marriage”—“Instructions for Children”—“Earnest Appeal”

401-436

1744.

Whitefield’s Labours—Threatened French Invasion—Methodist Loyalty—Troubles—First Methodist Conference—Wesley’s Last Sermon before the Oxford University—Dr. Kennicott on Wesley—Cornish Persecution—Bishop Gibson attacks the Methodists—The Rev. Thomas Church’s “Expostulatory Letter”—Foul Foamings of a “Gentleman of Pembroke College”—Bishop of Lichfield’s “Charge against Enthusiasm”—Presentment at Brecon Assizes—A Three Months’ Journey—Scene in Laneast Church—Strange and stirring Incidents—Wesley’s Lay Preachers—Christian Perfection—Rules of Band Societies—Wesley’s Publications in 1744—Wesley on Revivals of Religion

437-469

1745.

Persecution in Cornwall—Persecution in other places—Rev. John Maud, M.A.—The Craftsman—Rev. Dr. Stebbing—Dr. Zachary Grey again—The Moravians publicly disown Wesley—Rev. Thomas Church, A.M.—Wesley on the Moravians—William Cudworth—A Rough Journey—Wesley’s Manifesto defining his relationship to Church and State—A Popish Priest becomes Wesley’s Guest—Methodism in Osmotherley—A Cornish Terma[Pg xii]gant—Terrible National Excitement—Panic at Newcastle—Wesley’s Letter to the Mayor of Newcastle—Troops on Newcastle Moor—Wesley preaching to Soldiers—Wesley’s High Churchism—Conference of 1745—Wesley’s Publications in 1745—Wesley on the Sacrament, the Sabbath, Swearing, Drunkenness, etc.—Wesley unawares becomes Rich

470-505

1746.

Whitefield ranging in American Woods—C. Wesley jubilant in Labour and Danger—John Nelson at Nottingham—Lord King makes Wesley a Dissenter—Wesley attends the Conference of the Calvinistic Methodists—Vincent Perronet—A Ten Days’ Ride—Wesley accused of Falsehood—Methodist Preachers—Books to be read by them—Antinomianism—Settlement of Methodist Chapels—Wesley forms a “Tea”-total Society—Twelve young men in Wales—Wesley opens a Dispensary—Conference of 1746—An Autobiographical Hymn—Wesley’s Publications in 1746

506-534

1747.

Letter from Whitefield to Wesley on Union—Howel Harris—Joseph Williams—Thomas Adams—James Relly—Herbert Jenkins—John Edwards—Persecution at Devizes—Wesley going North—Grace Murray—Jeannie Keith—Methodism’s first “Theological Institution”—Wesley coming South—William Darney’s Societies—Methodism begun in Manchester—John and Alice Crosse—Methodism at Northwich—Rev. R. T. Bateman—Wesley’s “Poor House”—Wesley’s Foundery School—Wesley’s Lending Society—Wesley’s huge Income—Conference of 1747—Wesley in Cornwall—Methodism begun in Ireland—Swaddlers—Poor Lodgings—Irish Hymn-Book—Westley Hall’s Infamy—Wesley’s Publications in 1747

535-564

METHODISM: ITS GREATNESS.

IS it not a truth that Methodism is the greatest fact in the history of the church of Christ? Methodism has now existed one hundred and thirty years. Is there any other system that has spread itself so widely in an equal period? We doubt it.

In the first two centuries of the Christian era, during a great part of which men were blessed with plenary inspiration, and miracles were wrought, the Christian religion sprung up in Judæa, Samaria, and Galilee. Churches were raised at Antioch, in the beautiful isle of Cyprus, in the neighbouring provinces of Pamphylia, and Pisidia, and Lycaonia, and Galatia, and Phrygia, and, in fact, throughout Asia Minor in general. Berea, Philippi, Thessalonica, Athens, Corinth, and other cities in Greece, were visited with the light of truth. Christianity then spread through a large portion of other parts of the Roman empire, and reached as far as even Lyons in France.

This was marvellous success; but, as it respects geographical extent, the spread of Methodism is more marvellous. The Roman empire embraced the whole of the places above mentioned. It extended three thousand miles in length and two thousand miles in breadth, and comprised the most fertile and best cultivated part of the known world. Its limits were the Atlantic on the west; the Rhine and Danube on the north; the Euphrates on the east; and the deserts of Arabia and Africa on the south. This was a vast area; but, compared with that over which Methodism has spread itself during the last hundred and thirty years, it is insignificantly small. If Methodism does not exist in Palestine, Asia Minor, Arabia,[Pg 2] Greece, or Egypt, it exists in Britain, France, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and Africa: and, passing to other regions which the Romans never trod, it has long since entered India and Ceylon; it has already won its triumphs in the flowery land of the Chinese; it has a vast multitude of adherents in Australia, and the islands of the Pacific Ocean; in the West Indies its converts are numbered by tens of thousands; while in America it has diffused its blessings from the most remote settlements of Canada in the north to the Gulf of Mexico in the south, and from Nova Scotia in the east to California in the west.

Take another epoch of the church’s history—the Reformation, begun by Luther, in the year 1517. This immense revival of truth and godliness, in the midst of a corrupted church, established itself in many parts of the German empire, where it continues to the present day. It was propagated in Sweden by one of Luther’s disciples, Olaus Petri. In Denmark, it was spread by Martin Reinard and Carlostadt. In France, it found a patroness in Margaret, Queen of Navarre. In Switzerland, John Calvin became famous as one of its great apostles. It made considerable progress in Spain, Hungary, Bohemia, and Poland. In the Netherlands, upwards of a hundred thousand persons were cruelly put to death because of their embracing it. In all the provinces of Italy, but more especially in the territories of Venice, Tuscany, and Naples, great numbers of people, of all ranks, were led by it to express an aversion to the Papal yoke. In Spain, not a few embraced it, and even Charles V. himself is presumed to have died a Protestant. In England, Henry VIII. unintentionally helped it forward by usurping the chair of church supremacy, hitherto occupied by his holiness the Pope; while his only son, King Edward VI., was its brightest ornament, and, in some respects, its most effectual support. In Ireland, George Brown, Archbishop of Dublin, pulled down images, destroyed relics, and purged the churches within his diocese from superstitious rites. While in Scotland, John Knox, a disciple of Calvin, launched[Pg 3] his thunders against the Vatican, until he shook it to its base; and, at last, Queen Elizabeth, by an army, put an end to Popery in the whole of the Caledonian kingdom.

This was a glorious and wide-spread work, the blessed results of which will be felt to the latest generations. But compare it with Methodism, and say which, in the same number of years, made the greater progress, and established itself in the widest extent of country. It is no disparagement to the Protestant Reformation to affirm that, in this respect, Methodism is immensely its superior.

Look at this religious system as it now exists. The “Methodist,” or parent “Conference,” employs in Great Britain and Ireland 1782 regular ministers. Besides these, there were, in 1864, in England only, 11,804 lay preachers, preaching 8754 sermons every sabbath-day. In the same year, the number of preaching places in England only, was 6718, and the number of sermons preached weekly, by ministers and lay preachers combined, was 13,852.[1] To these must be added the lay preachers, preaching places, etc., in Wales, Scotland, Ireland, Shetland, and the Channel Islands. The number of church members in Great Britain and Ireland is 365,285, with 21,223 on trial; and, calculating that the hearers are three times as numerous as the church members, there are considerably more than a million persons in the United Kingdom who are attendants upon the religious services of the parent Conference of “the people called Methodists.” Some idea of their chapel and school property may be formed from the fact that, during the last seven years, there has been expended, in Great Britain only, in new erections and in reducing debts on existing buildings, £1,672,541; and, towards that amount of expenditure, there has been actually raised and paid (exclusive of all Connexional collections, loans, and grants) the sum of £1,284,498. During the ten years, from 1859 to 1868 inclusive, there was raised for the support of the foreign missions of the Connexion £1,408,235; and, if to this there be added the amount of the Jubilee Fund, we find more than a million and a half sterling[Pg 4] contributed during the decade for the sustenance and extension of the Methodist work in foreign lands. The missions now referred to are carried on in Ireland, France, Switzerland, Germany, Italy, Gibraltar, India, Ceylon, China, South and West Africa, the West Indies, Canada, Eastern British America, Australia, and Polynesia. In these distant places, the committee having the management of the missions employ 3798 paid agents, including 994 who are regularly ordained, and are wholly engaged in the work of the Christian ministry. Besides these, there are about 20,000 agents of the Society (as lay preachers, etc.), who are rendering important service gratuitously; while the number of church members is 154,187, and the number of attendants upon the religious services more than half a million. Space prevents a reference to the other institutions and funds of British Methodism, except to add that, besides 174,721 children in the mission schools, the parent Connexion has in Great Britain 698 day-schools, efficiently conducted by 1532 certificated, assistant, and pupil teachers, and containing 119,070 scholars; also 5328 Sunday-schools, containing 601,801 scholars, taught by 103,441 persons who render their services gratuitously; and that the total number of publications printed and issued by the English Book Committee only, during the year ending June 1866, was four millions one hundred and twenty-two thousand eight hundred, of which nearly two millions were periodicals, and more than a quarter of a million were hymn-books.

These statistics are significant of great facts. At a moderate computation, there are at least two millions of persons regularly worshipping in the chapels, schools, etc., of the original body of “the people called Methodists.”

Leaving what is sometimes called the “Old Connexion,” we proceed to glance at the branches of the Methodist family.

The Welsh Calvinistic Methodists.—The societies of this section of Methodists were founded by Howel Harris, an early friend and companion of Wesley and Whitefield, and principally exist in Wales. At the census of 1851, they had 828 chapels, capable of accommodating about 212,000 persons, and which had cost nearly a million sterling. In 1853 they had 207 ministers, 234 lay preachers, and 58,577 church members.[Pg 5]

The Countess of Huntingdon’s Connexion.—In 1748 Whitefield became the chaplain of the Countess of Huntingdon, who, by his advice, assumed a kind of leadership over his followers, erected chapels, engaged ministers or laymen to officiate in them, and afterwards founded a college at Trevecca, in Wales, for the education of Calvinistic preachers. At her death, the college was transferred to Cheshunt, and there it still exists. Although the name “Connexion” continues to be used, the Congregational polity is practically adopted; and, of late years, several of the congregations have become, in name as well as virtually, Congregational churches. The number of chapels, mentioned in the census of 1851, as belonging to this Connexion, was 109, containing accommodation for 38,727 persons, and the attendance on the census Sunday was 19,159.[2]

The Methodist New Connexion was formed in the year 1797; the principal, if not only difference, between it and the parent body, being the different degrees of power allowed in each communion to the laity. At the Conference of 1869, the New Connexion had, at home and abroad, 260 ministers, and 35,706 church members.

The Band Room Methodists had their origin in Manchester, in 1806. Their chief leaders were John and E. Broadhurst, Holland Hoole, Nathaniel Williamson, and Thomas Painter. Of the earnestness of these godly men there can be no question; but, as in the case of many who have been called revivalists, their zeal was often boisterous and irregular, and sometimes obstinate. Their meetings were chiefly held in what was known as the Band Room, in North Street. Their chief faults were admitting persons to band meetings without showing their society tickets; having penitent benches and noisy prayer-meetings; holding cottage services; and, lastly and especially, acting independently of leaders’ meetings. The Band Room Methodists still exist; but are now called, “The United Free Gospel Churches.” They hold annual conferences; have fifty-nine churches, chiefly in Lancashire and Yorkshire; and differ from the parent Connexion, not in doctrines, but in having no paid ministers.

[Pg 6]

The Primitive Methodists sprang up in Staffordshire in 1810. The doctrines they teach are precisely similar to those of the original Connexion. At the conference of 1868 they had, at home and abroad, 943 ministers, about 14,000 lay preachers, nearly 10,000 classleaders, 3360 connexional chapels, 2963 rented chapels and rooms for religious worship, 3282 Sunday-schools, above 40,000 Sunday-school teachers, 258,857 Sunday-school scholars, and 161,229 church members.

The Bible Christians, sometimes called “Bryanites,” were founded by William O’Bryan, a Wesleyan local preacher, in Cornwall, in 1815. They principally exist in Cornwall and the West of England, but also have mission stations in the Channel Islands, the United States, Canada, Prince Edward’s Island, and Australia. Like the parent Connexion they have class-meetings, circuits, district-meetings, and a Conference. Their statistics, for 1869, are about 700 chapels and 300 other preaching places, 254 ministers, 1759 lay preachers, 44,221 Sunday-school scholars, 8913 Sunday-school teachers, and 26,241 full and accredited church members.

The Primitive Methodists in Ireland seceded from the parent body in 1817. At that time the Irish Conference, at the urgent request of many of the Irish societies, agreed that the ministers in full connection should administer the sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s supper, in circuits making proper application to that effect. This occasioned great commotion. A number of leaders and local preachers assembled at Clones, in the beginning of 1817, and formed themselves into a separate Connexion, the only difference between them and their quondam friends being, that their ministers should not administer baptism and the Lord’s supper, but should leave their societies at perfect liberty to partake of those sacraments in the churches to which they respectively belonged. In 1816 there were in Ireland 28,542 members of society; but in two years, and in consequence of this senseless schism, that number was reduced to 19,052. The new body took the name of Primitive Methodists, and still continue a separated people on the one principle already mentioned. In 1861, they had in Ireland, 61 circuits, 85 ministers, and 14,247 members of society.

The United Methodist Free Churches are an amalgamation[Pg 7] of three different secessions from the original Connexion, 1. The Protestant Methodists, who were formed into a distinct body in 1828, when upwards of 1000 members separated from the Leeds societies, because of the proceedings of the special district-meeting convened to settle the disputes arising out of the introduction of an organ into Brunswick Chapel. 2. The Wesleyan Methodist Association, which sprung out of the controversy in 1834, concerning the then proposed Theological Institution. 3. The Reformers, who were expelled, or who seceded, during the terrible agitation which occurred in 1849. These amalgamated bodies have, in 1869, ministers, 312; lay preachers, 3445; chapels, 1228; Sunday-scholars, 152,315; church members, 68,062.

The Wesleyan Reform Union consists of those Reformers of 1849 who refused to amalgamate with the United Methodist Free Churches. In 1868, the Union had 20 ministers, 608 lay preachers, 276 chapels and preaching places, 580 classleaders, 18,475 Sunday-scholars, and 9393 church members.

The above comprise all the Methodist bodies now existing in the United Kingdom. Some others have occasionally sprung up, such as the Tent Methodists, the Independent Methodists, etc.; but they are now either extinct or incorporated with other churches. Not reckoning the Band Room Methodists, nor the Countess of Huntingdon’s Connexion, and making a moderate estimate of the Sunday-school scholars belonging to the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists and to the Primitive Methodists in Ireland, we arrive at the following results.

[Pg 8]

Marvellous, however, as the success of Methodism has been in the United Kingdom, it has been far more marvellous in the United States. There it holds and preaches precisely the same doctrines as are held and preached in England. There, as here, it is intensely loyal; and, during the late terrific war, sent a hundred thousand white, and seventy-five thousand, black troops into the field of battle under the loyal flag. It is dotting the whole of the vast American continent with its church edifices, and has perhaps the most powerful religious press of which the world can boast. Let the reader ponder the significance of the following statistics for the year 1869, taken from the New York Christian Advocate, and referring exclusively to the Methodist Episcopal Church North.

In connection with its schools, there are libraries containing more than two millions and a half of books. Its Book Concern has about thirty cylinder power-presses in constant operation; and about 2000 different books on its catalogue, besides tracts, etc., and 14 periodicals, with an aggregate circulation of more than twelve millions every year. It also has a great Missionary Society, with prosperous missions in China, India, Africa, Bulgaria, Germany, Switzerland, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and other places.

The returns for the Methodist Episcopal Church South, in 1869, are 2581 ministers, 3951 lay preachers, and 535,040 church members.

The Methodist Episcopal Church in Canada has 216 ministers, 224 lay preachers, and 20,000 members.

[Pg 9]

Besides the above, there are other Transatlantic Methodists, as:—1. The African Methodist Episcopal Church, which, in 1867, had 14 annual Conferences, 673 chapels, 509 travelling preachers, 727 local preachers, 130,950 members, 33,134 Sunday-school scholars, and 40,716 volumes in Sunday-school libraries. 2. The Methodist Protestant Church, with about 90,000 members. 3. The American Wesleyan Methodists, with above 20,000 members. 4. The German Methodists, with 46,000 members. 5. Three or four smaller sects, which need no further notice. The aggregate membership of these several Methodistic bodies may be fairly estimated at about 300,000, and their ministers and preachers at 5000.

These are startling figures; put together in an abbreviated form, they stand as follows:—

Some of these figures are estimated numbers, and are so given; the others are statistics officially reported. Put the matter in another form. Is it too much to calculate Methodist hearers only at the rate of twice the number of Methodist church members? If not, the estimated result is as follows:

We thus make a total of more than twelve millions of persons receiving Methodist instruction, and, from week to week, meeting together in Methodist buildings for the purpose of[Pg 10] worshipping Almighty God. The statement is startling, but the statistics given entitle it to the fullest consideration.

But rightly to estimate the results of Methodism during the last hundred and thirty years, there are other facts to be remembered.

Who will deny, for instance, that Methodism has exercised a potent and beneficial influence upon other churches: Episcopal, Presbyterian, Independent, and Baptist churches have all been largely indebted to Methodism, either directly or indirectly, for many of the best ministers and agents they have ever had. It is a remarkable fact that, during Wesley’s lifetime, of the 690 men who acted under him as itinerant preachers, 249 relinquished the itinerant ministry. These 249 retirers included not a few of the most intelligent, energetic, pious, and useful preachers that Wesley had. Some left him on the ground of health; others began business, because as itinerant preachers they were unable to support their wives and families; but a large proportion became ordained ministers in other churches. In some instances, the labours of these men, and their brother Methodists, led to marvellous results. To give but one example,—David Taylor, originally a servant of Lady Huntingdon, was one of Wesley’s first preachers, but afterwards left the work. Taylor, however, was the means of converting Samuel Deacon, an agricultural labourer; and the two combined were the instruments, in the hands of God, of raising up a number of churches in Yorkshire and the midland counties, which, in 1770, were organised into the New Connexion of General Baptists; and that Connexion, seventy years afterwards, in 1840, comprised 113 churches, having 11,358 members, a foreign missionary society, and two theological academies.[3]

Sunday-schools are now an important appendage of every church, and have been a benefit to millions of immortal souls; but it deserves to be mentioned that Hannah Ball, a young Methodist lady, had a Methodist Sunday-school at High Wycombe fourteen years before Robert Raikes began his at Gloucester; and that Sophia Cooke, another Methodist, who afterwards became the wife of Samuel Bradburn, was the first[Pg 11] who suggested to Raikes the Sunday-school idea, and actually marched with him, at the head of his troop of ragged urchins, the first Sunday they were taken to the parish church.

The first British Bible Society that existed, “The Naval and Military,” was projected by George Cussons, and organised by a small number of his Methodist companions. The London Missionary Society originated in an appeal from Melville Horne, who, for some years, was one of Wesley’s itinerant preachers, and then became the successor of Fletcher as vicar of Madeley. The Church Missionary Society was started by John Venn, the son of Henry Venn the Methodist clergyman. The first Tract Society was formed by John Wesley and Thomas Coke, in 1782, seventeen years before the organisation of the present great Religious Tract Society in Paternoster Row—a society, by the way, which was instituted chiefly by Rowland Hill, and two or three other Calvinistic Methodists. It is believed that the first Dispensary that the world ever had was founded by Wesley himself in connection with the old Foundery, in Moorfields. The Strangers’ Friend Society, paying, every year, from forty to fifty thousand visits to the sick poor of London, and relieving them as far as possible, is an institution to which Methodism gave birth in 1785.

Building churches is one of the great features of the age. Unfortunately, England has had no religious worship census since 1851; but even then, according to the tables of Horace Mann, Esq., Methodism had, in England and Wales only, 11,835 places of worship, with 2,231,017 sittings. In America, according to the census of 1860, Methodism nine years ago provided church accommodation for 6,259,799, which was two and a quarter millions more than was provided by any other church whatever.

The public press is one of the most powerful institutions of the day. England has four Methodist newspapers; Ireland, one; France, one; Germany, one; India, one; China, one; Australia, two; Canada and British America, five; and the United States about fifty.

Let the reader think of twelve millions of people at present enjoying the benefits of Methodist instruction; let him think[Pg 12] of Methodism’s 21,875 ordained ministers, and of its tens of thousands of lay preachers; let him think of the immense amount of its church property, and of the well-nigh countless number of its church publications; let him think of millions of young people in its schools, and of its missionary agents almost all the wide world over; let him think of its incalculable influence upon other churches, and of the unsectarian institutions to which it has given rise; and then let him say whether the bold suggestion already made is not strictly true, viz., that “Methodism is the greatest fact in the history of the church of Christ.”

Here we have an immensely ramified church organisation, everywhere preaching the same momentous doctrines, and aiming at the same great purpose. A day never passes without numbers of its converts being admitted into heaven; and without many a poor wayward wanderer being brought by it into the fold of Christ on earth. Thousands of its temples are daily open; and “prayer,” by its churches, in one quarter of the globe or in another, is “made continually.” It has belted the entire planet with its myriad agents, who—in English, French, Dutch, German, and Italian; in the various dialects and tongues of Africa, India, and China; and in the newly formed languages of the Feegee and the Friendly Islands—are calling to the nations, “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.”

In England, it has had much to do with the almost incredible changes that have taken place in English society during the last hundred years. In Ireland, with Popery so rampant, a people so poor, and emigration so vast, it has some five or six hundred chapels, besides having many hundreds of small congregations in cottages, court-houses, market-places, and village-greens. In Australia, it has more church sittings than any other Christian community, the Church of England not excepted; and has, at least, one twelfth of the colonists attending its places of religious worship. In America, it has become the dominant popular faith of the country, with its standard planted in every city, town, and almost every village of the land, and is building chapels at the rate of nearly[Pg 13] two every day.[4] In the early period of its history, it had its fair share of persecution, and was, to an extent sufficient one would think to satisfy its founders, pelted and hooted by vulgar mobs, mistreated by magistrates and courts, reviled by religionists, and assailed by swarms of pamphleteers; it has had no national endowments, and has had no favour from parliamentary legislation; it has had no assistance from the State, and has been looked upon with supercilious contempt by what, in England, is called “the Church;” and yet despite all this, there is hardly a nation where its influence has not been felt; and instead of finding it maimed and lame and injured by fighting its past battles and winning its past victories; or weak and palsied and inactive on account of approaching age, it has never been more vigorous, by the blessing of God, than it is at present; and is putting into motion an amount of machinery the ultimate results of which no man’s mind can grasp.

Is all this concerning Methodism strictly true? We believe it is, and hence we believe that the life of Methodism’s founder is a subject well worth knowing. Who was he? What was he? Who were his companions? When and where and how did he pass his time? We will try to show.

JOHN WESLEY was born at Epworth, in the county of Lincoln, on the 17th of June, 1703,[5] and was the son of Samuel and Susannah Wesley, the former being the learned, laborious, and godly rector of the Epworth parish from about the year 1696 to his death in 1735. The Wesley family consisted of nineteen children, but, of these, nine died in infancy. The name of one of the dead infants was John, and the name of another Benjamin; and when the subject of this biography was born, his mother united the two names by calling him John Benjamin. Second names are of little use, and are often troublesome, and probably for this reason Wesley’s second name was one which he never used.[6]

When Wesley was born, Queen Anne was commencing the twelve years of English sovereignty which some have regarded as the Augustan age of English learning. War was raging on the continent, and, at home, an embittered fight was being fought between fiery Churchmen and fierce Dissenters. Anne warmly favoured the high church party; and to[Pg 16] augment Church livings, gave out of the royal income “the first-fruits and the tenths,” amounting to £16,000 a year. While Wesley was yet an infant, the Whigs raised the cry of “the Church in danger,” but Parliament passed a resolution that the cry was unfounded, and that those who gave it birth were enemies to the queen, the Church, and the kingdom. Five years after this, Dr. Sacheverell preached his firebrand sermon in St. Paul’s Cathedral, and threw the nation into a state of unparalleled excitement, the ultimate result of which was, the Tories became more powerful than ever; and Queen Anne, in meeting her Parliament in 1710, no longer condescended to use the word toleration in reference to Dissenters, but spoke of indulgence to be allowed “to scrupulous consciences,” while, after a long continued struggle, the high church party succeeded in passing the obnoxious bill against occasional conformity. All this occurred during Wesley’s childhood.

At the time of Wesley’s birth, his brother Samuel was a sprightly boy, thirteen years of age, and a few months afterwards was sent to Westminster School, where he became distinguished for his scholarship and genius, and soon obtained a host of literary friends, from Lord Oxford, the Mecænas of his age, down to Addison, Atterbury, Pope, and Prior. Emilia Wesley, so gifted and so beautiful, was a year younger than Samuel, and was developing her exquisite sensibility and taste under the mental and moral cultivation of her mother. The ill-fated Susannah was a frolicsome child, eight years old. Mary, already deformed by an early sickness and the carelessness of her nurse, had arrived at the age of seven, and was fast becoming the favourite of her father’s family. The almost unequalled Mehetabel was six, and was so advanced in learning that two years afterwards she read the New Testament in Greek. Anne was yet an infant; and Martha, Charles, and Keziah were still unborn.

In the year of Wesley’s nativity, his father was writing his “History of the Old and New Testament, in Verse;” and also had the pleasure or mortification (we hardly know which) of having his pamphlet on Dissenting academies surreptitiously published by a man to whom it had long before been sent as a private letter. Before Wesley was three years old[Pg 17] his father was ruthlessly thrust into gaol for debt; and before he was six the parsonage was destroyed by fire. When the fire occurred, his brother Charles was an infant not two months old, and he, with John, three of their sisters, and their nurse, were all in the same room, and fast asleep. Being aroused, the nurse seized Charles, and bid the others follow. The three sisters did as they were bidden, but John was left sleeping. The venerable rector counted heads, and found John was wanting. At the same instant, a cry was heard. The frantic father tried to ascend the burning stairs, but found it to be impossible. He then dropped upon his knees in the blazing hall, and despairing of the rescue of his child, commended him to God. Meanwhile John had mounted a chest and was standing at the bedroom window. Quick as thought, one man placed himself against the wall, and another stood upon his shoulders, and just a moment before the roof fell in with a fearful crash the child was rescued through the window, and safely “plucked as a brand from the burning” house.

Our information respecting Wesley’s childhood is extremely limited. If we strip off all the luxuriant verbiage in which imaginative writers have indulged, the naked facts are the following.

Wesley, like all the other members of his father’s family, was indebted for his elementary education to his mother. The principles upon which she acted were unique. When the child was one year old, he was taught to fear the rod, and, if he cried at all, to cry in softened tones. Wesley long afterwards, in his sermon on the education of children, enforces his mother’s practice, urging parents never to give a child a thing for which it cries, on the ground that to do so would be a recompence for crying, and he would certainly cry again.

Another of Mrs. Wesley’s principles of action was to limit her children to three meals a day. Eating and drinking between meals was strictly prohibited. All the children were washed and put to bed by eight o’clock, and, on no account, was a servant to sit by a child till it fell asleep.

The whole of the Wesley children were taught the Lord’s Prayer as soon as they could speak, and repeated it every morning and every night. Rudeness was never seen amongst[Pg 18] them; and on no account were they allowed to call each other by their proper names without the addition of brother or sister, as the case might be. Six hours a day were spent at school; and loud talking, playing, and running into the yard, garden, or street, without permission, was rigorously forbidden. None of them, except Kezzy, was taught to read till five years old, and then only a single day was allowed wherein to learn the letters of the alphabet, great and small—a task which all of them accomplished except Mary and Anne, who were a day and a half before they knew them perfectly. Psalms were sung every morning when school was opened, and also every night when the duties of the day were ended. In addition to all this, at the commencement and close of every day, each of the elder children took one of the younger and read the Psalms appointed for the day and a chapter in the Bible, after which they severally went to their private devotions.

Mrs. Wesley, assisted by her husband, seems to have been the sole instructor of her daughters, and also of her sons, until the latter were sent to school in London; and never was there a family of children who did their teacher greater credit.

From early childhood, John was remarkable for his sober and studious disposition, and seemed to feel himself answerable to his reason and his conscience for everything he did. He would do nothing without first reflecting on its fitness and propriety. If asked, out of the common way of meals, to have, for instance, a piece of bread or fruit, he would answer with the coolest unconcern, “I thank you; I will think of it.” To argue about a thing seemed instinctive, and was carried to such a length that on one occasion his father almost chid him, saying, “Child, you think to carry everything by dint of argument; but you will find how little is ever done in the world by close reasoning.” “I profess, sweetheart,” said the rector in a pet to Mrs. Wesley, “I profess, sweetheart, I think our Jack would not attend to the most pressing necessities of nature, unless he could give a reason for it.”[7]

With all this meditative reasoning, there was mixed devotion. It is a remarkable fact, scarce paralleled, that such was his consistency of conduct, that his father admitted him[Pg 19] to the communion table when he was only eight years old;[8] and he himself informs us that, until he was about the age of ten, he had not sinned away that “washing of the Holy Ghost,” which he received in baptism.[9]

Between the age of eight and nine the small-pox attacked him; but he bore the terrible affliction with manly and Christian fortitude. At the time, his father was in London, and his mother writing him remarks: “Jack has borne his disease bravely, like a man, and indeed like a Christian, without complaint.”[10]

This is all that is known respecting Wesley during his childhood years at Epworth. Imagination might conjure up his early thinkings, passions, and attachments, the localities he loved to visit, and the sports, fun, and frolic in which he occasionally indulged; but history, on such subjects, is entirely silent; and for want of its honest statements we look at him in the grave and sober aspect in which facts present him.

While yet a child, only ten and a half years old, Wesley passed from under the tutelage of his accomplished mother, and became a pupil at the Charterhouse, London. For his son’s admission into this distinguished school, the Epworth rector was indebted to the friendly services of the Duke of Buckingham, at that time the Lord Chamberlain of the royal household.[11]

The privilege was great, and, to the day of his death, John Wesley loved the place of his early education, and was accustomed to walk through its courts and grounds once every year. He was not without hardships; but he bore them bravely. Among other acts of cruelty, the elder boys were accustomed, in addition to their own share of animal food, to take by force that which was apportioned to the younger scholars; and, in consequence of this, for a considerable part of the five years that young Wesley spent at the Charterhouse, the only solid food he got was bread. There was one thing, however, which contributed to his general flow of[Pg 20] health,—namely, his invariably carrying out a strict command which his father gave him, to run round the Charterhouse garden three times every morning. It is good for a man “to bear the yoke in his youth,” and Wesley learned, as a boy, to suffer wrongfully with a cheerful fortitude, and to submit to the cruel exactions of his elder tyrants without acquiring either the cringing of a slave or a despot’s imperious temper.

Wesley entered the school as the poor child of an impoverished parish priest, and had to endure wrongs and insults neither few nor small; but, though he was only sixteen years of age when he left, he had, by his energy of character, his unconquerable patience, his assiduity, and his progress in learning, acquired a high position among his fellows. An old Methodist pamphlet[12] relates an anecdote, to the effect that the Rev. A. Tooke,[13] master of the school, was struck with the fact that, though Wesley was remarkably advanced in his studies, yet he constantly associated with the inferior classes, and was accustomed to harangue a number of the smaller boys surrounding him. On one occasion Tooke broke in upon him in the midst of an oration, and interrupted him, by desiring him to follow him into a private room. Wesley reluctantly obeyed, and the master, addressing him, asked how it was that he was so often found among the boys of the lower forms, and sought not the company of the bigger boys, who were his equals? To which the young orator replied, “Better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven.”

This story was given by “an old member of society,” on what he calls “the most authentic authority,” for the purpose of showing that Wesley, even as a boy, was ambitious. Be it so. What then? Is ambition always, and under all circumstances, a thing to be denounced? Ambition is widely different from vanity, a paltry passion of petty minds; neither is it necessarily accompanied with the use of improper means to attain its object. Ambition is common to the human species.[Pg 21] There are but few without it, and who are not desirous of distinguishing themselves in the circle in which they live. You see the passion in the aristocratic noble toiling after a distinction which he desires to win; and you equally see it in the poorest mechanic, who strives to surround himself with poor admirers, and who delights in the superiority which he enjoys over those who are, in some respects, beneath him. Besides, as a rule, a man’s ambition is always in correspondence with his other tastes, and faculties, and powers. Dr. Johnson wisely remarks, that “Providence seldom sends any into the world with an inclination to attempt great things, who have not abilities likewise to perform them;” and Addison, an equally thoughtful student of human nature, observes that “Men of the greatest abilities are most fired with ambition; and, on the contrary, mean and narrow minds are the least actuated by it.” To account for this may be difficult, but none will deny its truth. Perhaps the difference may be occasioned by a man’s consciousness of his own capacities making him despair of attaining positions which others reach; or perhaps, which is more likely still, Providence, in the very framing of his mind, has freed him from a passion, which would be useless to the world, and a torment to himself.

On such grounds, then, we are quite prepared to argue that, even allowing the above anonymous story to be strictly true, and allowing also that it proves that Wesley as a boy was animated with ambition, there is nothing in it which, for a moment, detracts from Wesley’s honour and honest fame.

We wish that this were the only thing to be alleged against him during his Charterhouse career. Unfortunately there is another fact far more serious; for Wesley, while at this seat of learning, lost the religion which had marked his character from the days of infancy. He writes concerning this period of his history: “Outward restraints being removed, I was much more negligent than before, even of outward duties, and almost continually guilty of outward sins, which I knew to be such, though they were not scandalous in the eye of the world. However, I still read the Scriptures, and said my prayers morning and evening. And what I now hoped to be saved by was,—1. Not being so bad as other people. 2. Having[Pg 22] still a kindness for religion. And, 3. Reading the Bible, going to church, and saying my prayers.”[14]

Terrible is the danger when a child leaves a pious home for a public school. John Wesley entered the Charterhouse a saint, and left it a sinner.

It was during his residence at this celebrated school, that the mysterious and preternatural voices were heard in his father’s house. The often told story need not be repeated; but there can be no question that its influence upon himself was powerful and important. He took the trouble of obtaining minute particulars from his mother, from his four sisters, Emily, Mary, Susannah, and Anne, and from Robin Brown. He likewise transcribed his father’s diary, containing an account of the disturbances;[15] thereby showing the intense interest he felt in the affair. In fact, it would seem that, from this period, Wesley was a firm believer in ghosts and apparitions. In his twentieth year, we find him writing to his mother, in the gravest manner possible, concerning what he calls “one of the most unaccountable stories he had ever heard;”—namely, that of a lad in Ireland, who ever and anon made an involuntary pilgrimage through the aerial regions, and feasted with demigods in nubibus. In the same letter, Wesley relates an adventure of his own; for, while walking a few days previously in the neighbourhood of Oxford, he had observed a forlorn looking house, which he found was unoccupied by mortals because it was haunted by ghosts. Wesley tells his mother that he purposes to visit this forsaken dwelling, and to assure himself whether what he had heard was true. He further relates that a Mr. Barnesley, and two other of his fellow-students, had recently seen an apparition in a field adjoining Oxford, and that it had since been ascertained that Barnesley’s mother died in Ireland at the very moment when the spectre had been witnessed.[16]

Thus, at this early period of his history, Wesley’s mind, wisely or unwisely, superstitiously or otherwise, was full of the supernatural; and to the calm judgment of his philosophic[Pg 23] mother he submits his facts for her opinion. Three weeks afterwards she wrote:[17]—

This was not a solution of Wesley’s difficulty. It was rather making mystery more mysterious. The young student was full of anxious inquiry. Isaac Taylor thinks that the strange Epworth episode so laid open Wesley’s faculty of belief, that ever after a right of way for the supernatural was opened through his mind; and, to the end of life, there was nothing so marvellous that it could not freely pass where “Old Jeffrey” had passed before it. Taylor adds: “Wesley’s most prominent infirmity was his wonder-loving credulity; from the beginning to the end of his course this weakness ruled him.” Other opportunities will occur of testing the truthfulness of Taylor’s statement; but here it may be observed, that for young Wesley to have regarded the noises at Epworth with indifference would have been irreligious and irrational. A metaphysician, vain of his philosophic powers, like Isaac Taylor, may “deal with occult folk, such as Jeffrey, huffingly and disrespectfully;” and may pretend to “catch in the Epworth ghost a glimpse of an idiotic creature” belonging to some order of invisible beings “not more intelligent than apes or pigs,” and which, by some “mischance, was thrown over its boundary, and obtained leave to disport itself among things palpable, and went to the extent of its tether in freaks of bootless mischief;” but, in broaching such a theory, Isaac Taylor, wishing to be witty, makes himself ridiculous. John Wesley believed the noises to be supernatural; and Southey, as great an authority as Taylor, defends his belief; and argues that such occurrences have a tendency to explode the fine-spun theories of men who deny[Pg 24] another state of being, and to bring them to the conclusion that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in their philosophy. We have little doubt that the Epworth noises deepened and most powerfully increased Wesley’s convictions of the existence of an unseen world; and, in this way, exercised an important influence on the whole of his future life. His notion,[18] that the disturbance was occasioned by a messenger of Satan, sent to buffet his father for a rash vow alleged to have been made fifteen years before, has been shown to be utterly unfounded;[19] but the impressions it produced, or rather strengthened, respecting invisible realities, were of the utmost consequence in moulding his character, and in making him one of the most earnest preachers of the Christian’s creed that ever lived.

During Wesley’s residence at the Charterhouse, his brother Samuel was the head usher of Westminster School; and in 1719, Wesley seems, for a time, to have become his brother’s guest. Charles was now a pupil under Samuel’s tuition; and the latter, writing to his father, says: “My brother Jack, I can faithfully assure you, gives you no manner of discouragement from breeding your third son a scholar. Jack is a brave boy, learning Hebrew as fast as he can.”[20]

In the following year, Wesley was elected to Christ Church, Oxford, one of the noblest colleges in that illustrious seat of learning, and here he continued until after his ordination in 1725. In reference to this period, he writes: “I still said my prayers, both in public and private; and read, with the Scriptures, several other books of religion, especially comments on the New Testament. Yet I had not all this while so much as a notion of inward holiness; nay, went on habitually and, for the most part, very contentedly, in some or other known sin; though with some intermission and short struggles, especially before and after the holy communion, which I was obliged to receive thrice a year.”[21]

[Pg 25]

Such was Wesley during the first five years he spent at Oxford. He maintained the reputation for scholarship which he had acquired at school; but there was no alteration in his moral and religious character. He said his prayers and read good books, as perhaps most Oxford students did; but, like others, he lived in sin, even habitually, except about thrice a year, when he was compelled to receive the sacrament. No doubt, like all the Wesley family, he was a gay and sprightly companion, and full of wit and humour. He began to amuse himself occasionally with writing verses, a specimen of which is given by Dr. Whitehead and is reproduced by Joseph Nightingale. The verses are six in number, and are merely the translation of a Latin poem respecting a young lady to whom he gives the name of Cloe. As Juno had a favourite peacock and Venus a favourite dove, so Cloe had a favourite flea, whose bliss in being allowed to crawl over the young lady’s person the poet makes it his business to describe. Henry Moore is angry with Dr. Whitehead for having given the verses publicity; but certainly without a cause. Had the piece been written by Wesley in advanced life it might have deserved censure; but being written when he was scarcely beyond his teens, it is only what a smart young fellow, full of vivacity, might be expected to produce.

When Wesley went to Oxford his health was far from being vigorous and robust. He was frequently troubled with bleeding at the nose. In a letter to his mother, in 1723, he tells her that lately, while walking in the country, he had bled so violently that he was almost choked, nor could he at all[Pg 26] abate the hæmorrhage till he stripped himself and leaped into the river.

He also had to struggle with financial difficulty, and was not unfrequently in debt. He sometimes had to borrow; and, more than once, when requesting that his sisters would write to him, playfully remarks, that, though he was “so poor, he would be able to spare the postage for a letter now and then.” His friends were kind to him, and his tutors were considerate. Soon after his entrance, his tutor, Mr. Wigan, retired to one of his country livings, and was succeeded by Mr. Sherman, who kindly told him that he would make his fees as low as possible.[22] Of course he had the £40 per annum, which belonged to him as a Charterhouse scholar; but this, with the utmost economy, was hardly sufficient to meet all the expenses of a young Oxford student. These financial embarrassments are often referred to in the subsequent correspondence.

The following is from an unpublished letter, written by his mother.

The following also, from another unpublished letter by his mother, refers to the same subject.

[Pg 27]

We subjoin an extract from another letter, written shortly after the above, and for the first time published in the Wesleyan Times of January 29, 1866.

Dr. Cheyne, mentioned in the preceding letter, was educated at Edinburgh, where his habits were temperate and sedentary; but, proceeding to London, he associated with a number of young gentry, to retain whose friendship it was necessary to indulge to the utmost in table luxuries. The result was, Cheyne became nervous, scorbutic, short-breathed, lethargic and listless; and was so enormously fat as to be nearly thirty-three stones in weight. His life became an intolerable burden, and, to cure himself, he adopted a milk and vegetable diet, by means of which he recovered his strength, activity, and cheerfulness. He became the author of several interesting works, one of which was the book just noticed. Wesley, to a great extent, adopted Cheyne’s prescription, and forty-six years after he read his book at Oxford, wrote: “How marvellous are the ways of God! How has He kept me even from a child! From ten to thirteen or fourteen, I had little but bread to eat, and not great plenty of even that. I believe this was so far from hurting me, that it laid the foundation of lasting health. When I grew up, in consequence of reading Dr. Cheyne, I chose to eat sparingly, and to drink water. This was another great means of continuing my health, till I was about seven-and-twenty. I then began spitting of blood, which continued several years. A warm climate [Georgia] cured this. I was afterwards brought to the brink of death by a fever; but it left me healthier than before. Eleven years after, I was in the third stage of a consumption; in three months it pleased God to remove this also. Since that I have known neither pain nor sickness, and am now healthier than I was forty years ago.”[23] Cheyne became one of Wesley’s favourites, and no wonder. After reading his “Natural[Pg 29] Method of Curing Diseases,” he designates it one of the most ingenious books he had ever seen; but adds, “What epicure will ever regard it? for the man talks against good eating and drinking!”[24] Cheyne died in 1745, calmly giving up his soul to God, says Wesley, without any struggle, either of body or mind.

Except the statement, that his carcass was the only property he had, Wesley makes not the least allusion, in the foregoing letter, to his pecuniary embarrassments. Naturally enough, his mother was more anxious than himself. Hence the following letter, hitherto unpublished, written within a month afterwards.

Mrs. Wesley’s brother, referred to in the foregoing letter, was in the service of the East India Company; and, the public prints having stated that he was returning to England in one of the company’s ships, Mrs. Wesley proceeded to London to await his arrival, and to welcome him. The information, however, was untrue, and both she and her son John were doomed to a disappointment. Samuel, at the time, had a broken leg, and had invited John to meet his mother at West[Pg 30]minster. John jocosely congratulates Samuel, that, like the Dutch seaman who broke his leg by a fall from the mainmast of his ship, he might thank God that he had not broken his neck also; and then he adds that his mother’s letter had made him weep for joy, for the two things he most wished for of almost anything in the world, were again to see his mother, and to see Westminster.[25]

Wesley was still in debt, a fact which gave his mother great anxiety. His father also, as usual, was embarrassed, and yet, though offended at his son’s want of thrift, did his utmost to afford him help. The following are painfully interesting letters, and one of them is now for the first time published—

Some will blame the writer for publishing such letters, on the ground that they cast shadows on young Wesley’s character; but it ought to be borne in mind that the work of a biographer is not to hide facts, but to publish them. Why such an unwillingness to look at the specks as well as sunshine in John Wesley’s history? Is it necessary, in order to establish the high position which has been assigned to Wesley, that the reader should be made to think that from first to last he was sui generis, and altogether free from the infirmities, faults, and sins of ordinary men? If it were, we would rather lower the position than pervert the facts; but we[Pg 31] maintain, that no such necessity exists. When we say, that from the age of eleven to the age of twenty-two, Wesley made no pretensions to be religious, and, except on rare occasions, habitually lived in the practice of known sin, we only say what is equally true of many of the greatest, wisest, and most godly men that have ever lived. The fact is humiliating, and ought to be deplored; but why hide it in one case more than in another? Wesley soon became one of the holiest and most useful men living; but, except the first ten years of his childhood, he was up to the age of twenty-two, by his own confession, an habitual, if not profane and flagrant sinner; and to his sin, he added the inconvenient and harassing infirmity of his honest but imprudent father, and thoughtlessly contracted debts greater than he had means to pay. His letters are without religious sentiments, and his life was without a religious aim. We yield to no man living in our high veneration of Wesley’s character; but, at the same time, we cannot hide it from ourselves and others, that, being human, he was frail, and, like all his fellows, had need to repent as in dust and ashes, and to seek, through Christ, the forgiveness of his sins and a change of heart.

But leaving this, we turn to another important matter. There is no evidence to show, that, when Wesley went to Oxford, he intended or wished to become a minister of the Established Church; it might be so, but it might be otherwise. It is true that, by obtaining ordination, he would become entitled to one of the Church livings at the disposal of the Charterhouse governors; but Wesley was far too noble and too high principled to seek admission into so sacred an office as the Christian ministry merely to secure for himself a crust of bread. He might intend to devote himself, like his brother Samuel, to tutorship; or he might contemplate some other mode of maintenance. Certain it is, that it was not until about the beginning of 1725, when he had been more than four years at college, that he expressed a wish to become a minister of Christ. The matter was properly submitted to his parents, and both gave him the best advice they could.

His father told him that his principal motive for entering the ministry must be, not, “as Eli’s sons, to eat a piece of[Pg 32] bread,” but the glory of God, and the good of men; and that, as a qualification for its sacred functions, he ought to have a thorough knowledge of the Holy Scriptures in their original languages. He was, however, not in haste for his going into orders, and would give him further advice at some future time.

On February 23, 1725, his mother wrote to him as follows:—

Three weeks after this, his father wrote to him, saying that he was now inclined to his entering orders without delay, and[Pg 33] exhorting him to prayer and study in reference to such a step, promising that he would struggle hard to obtain the money for the needful expenses.

Meanwhile, his sister Emilia wrote him a long letter, from which the following extracts are taken:—

Wesley now began to apply himself with diligence to the study of divinity. He writes: “When I was about twenty-two, my father pressed me to enter into holy orders. At the same time the providence of God directing me to Kempis’s ‘Christian’s Pattern,’ I began to see that true religion was seated in the heart, and that God’s law extended to all our thoughts as well as words and actions. I was, however, angry at Kempis for being too strict; though I read him only in Dean Stanhope’s translation. Yet I had frequently much sensible comfort in reading him, such as I was an utter stranger to before. Meeting likewise with a religious friend, which I never had till now, I began to alter the whole form of my conversation, and to set in earnest upon a new life. I set[Pg 34] apart an hour or two a day for religious retirement. I communicated every week. I watched against all sin, whether in word or deed. I began to aim at, and to pray for, inward holiness. So that now, doing so much and living so good a life, I doubted not that I was a good Christian.”[29]

What a confession! It was eleven years since Wesley left the parental roof; but he never had a religious friend till now. No wonder he had gone astray.

Having written to his mother, stating some of the difficulties which he had found in Kempis, she, on the 8th June, 1725, sent him a long letter, which, however adapted to an enlightened Christian, was useless, if not misleading, to an anxious inquirer not yet converted. The entire letter is before us, containing, besides a large amount of Christian casuistry, some family affairs of painful interest. These we pass over, and merely give an extract in reference to Kempis:—

Ten days after the date of his mother’s letter, he wrote to her again, as follows:—

We thus find young Wesley carefully reading Thomas à Kempis and Jeremy Taylor, and groping after two of the great doctrines which afterwards distinguished his ministry: God’s love to all, and the privilege of living in a state of conscious salvation. These and other topics puzzled him, and yet he seemed to have an almost instinctive knowledge of what is truth. We have seen his mother’s sentiments concerning Kempis. His father, on the 14th of July following, observes that though Kempis has gone to an extreme in teaching the doctrine of self-mortification, yet, considering the age in which he wrote, there was no need to be surprised at this. And then he adds: “Making some grains of allowance, he may be read to great advantage. Notwithstanding all his superstition and enthusiasm, it is almost impossible to peruse him seriously, without admiring, and in some measure imitating, his heroic strains of humility and piety and devotion.”

The books of Kempis and Taylor seem to have been the first on practical divinity that Wesley read, and, to the day of his death, were held in high esteem. Kempis’s “Pattern” was one of the first books that Wesley published; and an extract from Taylor’s work forms a part of his “Christian Library.” In his estimation, Taylor was a man of the sublimest piety, and one of the greatest geniuses on earth;[31] and Kempis is always spoken of in terms of high respect. What were the results of Wesley’s reading?

1. To this incident we are indebted for Wesley’s long continued record of the events and exercises of his daily life. In the preface to his first journal, dated September 20, 1740, he states, that about fifteen years ago (1725), in pursuance[Pg 36] of an advice given by Bishop Taylor in his “Rules for Holy Living and Dying,” he began to take a more exact account than he had done before of the manner wherein he spent his time, writing down how he had employed every hour. The practice thus begun was uninterruptedly continued until his death, and issued in giving to the world one of the most interesting works in the English language; a work not only containing the best history of the great reformer, and of the rise and growth of the Methodist movement, but sparkling with the most racy remarks respecting men, books, places, science, witches, ghosts, and almost everything with which the writer came in contact.

2. Another, and far more important result of reading Kempis and Taylor, was an entire change of life. He writes respecting Kempis’s “Pattern:” “When I met with it in 1726,[32] the nature and extent of inward religion, the religion of the heart, now appeared to me in a stronger light than ever it had done before. I saw that giving even all my life to God (supposing it possible to do this, and go no further) would profit me nothing, unless I gave my heart, yea, all my heart, to Him. I saw that simplicity of intention, and purity of affection, one design in all we speak and do, and one desire ruling all our tempers, are indeed the wings of the soul, without which she can never ascend to God. I sought after this from that hour.”[33]

Again, in reference to Taylor’s “Holy Living and Dying,” he observes: “In reading several parts of this book, I was exceedingly affected; that part in particular which relates to purity of intention. Instantly I resolved to dedicate all my life to God,—all my thoughts, and words, and actions,—being thoroughly convinced there was no medium; but that every part of my life (not some only) must either be a sacrifice to God, or myself, that is, in effect, the devil.”[34]

Here, then, we have the turning-point in Wesley’s history. It was not until thirteen years after this, that he received the consciousness of being saved through faith in Christ; but[Pg 37] from this time, his whole aim was to serve God and his fellowmen, and to get safe to heaven. No man could be more sincere, earnest, devout, diligent, and self-denying; and yet, during this lengthened period, he lived and laboured in a mist.

His father was £350 in debt; but was now resolved to do his utmost to obtain ordination for his son. He urged him to master St. Chrysostom and the articles; and sent his “Letter to a Curate,” in manuscript, to assist him in his preparations; and also wrote to the Bishop of Lincoln in his favour.[35] Meanwhile his mother tried to solve some of his scruples respecting the article on predestination;[36] and wrote him a long letter, not hitherto published, from which we give the following extracts:—

Here follow her remarks on humility. She continues:—

Part of Wesley’s reply to his mother’s letter is as follows:—

If the ideas of Wesley and his mother, on the way of attaining salvation, had been as scriptural as his ideas on general redemption, both would have been in a holier and happier frame of mind.

Wesley’s religion already made him the subject of contemptuous sneers. Hence the following from his father:—

Wesley was still in doubt in reference to several matters which had occurred to him during his late religious reading; and to relieve his doubts, his mother sent him some of the ablest letters she ever penned. The subjoined is taken from a long epistle now before us, and only part of which has heretofore been published:—

John Wesley substantially adopted his mother’s predestinarian views, as may be seen in his sermon on the text which she expounds in the foregoing letter; but his notions of that faith by which a sinner is justified were, at present, like those of his mother, vague and general, and far from being clear.

The time for Wesley’s ordination was now approaching, and the money question again rose up like a spectre, and required attention. His father writes:—

[Pg 41]

Difficulties were overcome, and Wesley, having prepared himself with the most conscientious care for the ministerial office, was ordained deacon on Sunday, September 19th, 1725.

WHAT was the state of things about the time of Wesley’s ordination? Wesley entered the Charterhouse in the year Queen Anne died. George I., Elector of Hanover, took her place. Endless intrigues in favour of the Pretender sprung up; and Bolingbroke fled to him on the Continent, and became his Secretary of State. Ormond gave magnificent fêtes at Richmond, and gathered around him the most fiery of the Jacobites, and the most intolerant of the high church party, till he also found it expedient to follow Bolingbroke’s example, and secretly escape to France. The clergy, in many instances, preached sermons and published pamphlets in which the temper, orthodoxy, and religion of King George were not painted in the brightest colours, and in which they hesitated not to say that England would soon be eaten up by Hanoverian rats and other foreign vermin. Rumours of invasion and of insurrection became general, and, about a year after George’s coronation, the Chevalier landed in Scotland, to take possession of what he called his kingdom.

The history of this adventure is too well known to be repeated here. Suffice it to observe, that Parliament set a price on the Pretender’s head, by offering a reward of £100,000 for his arrest. In Scotland, King George’s troops were put to live in free quarters, in the houses and upon the estates of Jacobites. In England, gaols were crowded with nonjuring Protestants, high church divines, and Popish squires, monks, and priests; while the Chevalier, like his poltroon father, fled from danger, and left thousands of his hot-headed followers to pay a fearful penalty for their rash adherence to him. Plotters, however, still plotted; among the chief of whom was Bishop Atterbury, the friend and patron of Wesley’s brother Samuel. The prelate was arrested, was tried in the House of Lords, was deprived of his bishopric, was banished from his[Pg 43] country, entered the service of the Pretender, and became his confidential agent.

These were times of terrible upheaving, and, surrounded by such commotions, young Wesley quietly pursued his scholastic studies, first in the Charterhouse, London, and afterwards in Christ Church College, Oxford. In the year in which Wesley went to Oxford, the South Sea bubble burst, and, by its gambling, knavish madness, the nation was involved in the most disgraceful kind of bankruptcy. About the same period, Parliament were discussing bills to authorize bishops and county magistrates to summon Dissenting ministers to quarter sessions to subscribe to a declaration of the Christian faith; and, upon their refusal, to deprive them of the benefit of the Act of Toleration; while, oddly enough, at the same time, Walpole, the prime minister, was endeavouring to satisfy the squeamish demand to omit from the “affirmation” of the Quakers the words,—“In the presence of Almighty God”—a demand which Atterbury resisted to the uttermost, insisting that such an indulgence was not due to “a set of people who were hardly Christians.”

Wesley was ordained a deacon by Bishop Potter, the son of a Yorkshire linen-draper; a man of great talent, and immense learning,—somewhat haughty and morose, and yet highly esteemed by a great portion of his contemporaries,—a high churchman, who maintained that episcopacy was of Divine institution, and yet one who cherished a friendly feeling towards the first Methodists, saying concerning them, “These gentlemen are irregular; but they have done good; and I pray God to bless them.” To the day of his death, Wesley held Potter in high esteem, calling him “a great and good man”; and, in a sermon written as late as the year 1787, mentioning an advice which the bishop had given him half a century before, and for which he had often thanked Almighty God, namely, “That if he wished to be extensively useful, he must not spend his time in contending for or against things of a disputable nature, but in testifying against notorious vice, and in promoting real, essential holiness.”[40]

It is a somewhat remarkable circumstance that, just about[Pg 44] the time of Wesley’s ordination, Voltaire was expelled from France, and fled to England, where he published his celebrated “Henriade,” a work which was patronized by George I., and which yielded a profit that laid the foundation of the infidels future fortune. During a long life, he and Wesley were contemporaneous, and, perhaps, of all the men then living, none exercised so great an influence as the restless philosopher and the unwearied minister of Christ. No men, however, could be more dissimilar. Wesley, in person, was beautiful; Voltaire was of a physiognomy so strange, and lighted up with fire so half-hellish and half-heavenly, that it was hard to say whether it was the face of a satyr or a man. Wesley’s heart was filled with a world-wide benevolence; Voltaire, though of gigantic mind, scarcely had a heart at all,—an incarnation of avaricious meanness, and a victim to petty passions. Wesley was the friend of all and the enemy of none; Voltaire was too selfish to love, and when forced to pay the scanty and ill-tempered homage which he sometimes rendered, it was always offered at the shrine of rank and wealth. Wesley had myriads who loved him; Voltaire had numerous admirers, but probably not a friend. Both were men of ceaseless labour, and almost unequalled authors; but while the one filled the land with blessings, the other, by his sneering and mendacious attacks against revealed religion, inflicted a greater curse than has been inflicted by the writings of any other author either before or since. The evangelist is now esteemed by all whose good opinions are worth having; the philosopher is only remembered to be branded with well-merited reproach and shame.

Wesley’s first sermon was preached at South Leigh, a small village three miles from Witney. Forty-six years afterwards he preached in the same place, when there was one man present who had been a member of his first congregation.[41]

Another of his early sermons was delivered at Epworth, January 11, 1726, at the funeral of John Griffith, a hopeful young man, son of one of the Epworth parishioners. The text was 2 Samuel xii. 23, and the subject of the brief sermon was the folly of indulging grief, except on account of sin.[Pg 45] Funeral sermons, in the common acceptation of the word, the young preacher denounces, for they had been so often prostituted to a mere flattery of the dead that now they were no longer capable of serving good purposes. “It is of no service to the dead,” says he, “to celebrate his actions, since he has the applause of God and His holy angels, and his own conscience. And it is of little use to the living, since he who desires a pattern may find enough proposed as such in the sacred writings.” For such reasons, Wesley, already laconic, reduces all that he has to say of John Griffith into a single sentence. “To his parents he was an affectionate, dutiful son; to his acquaintance an ingenuous, cheerful, good-natured companion; and to me a well-tried, sincere friend.”[42]

In a little more than two months after the delivery of this sermon, Wesley was elected fellow of Lincoln College.[43] The election took place March 17th, 1726. In this affair, his brother Samuel rendered him considerable assistance; his mother, with a full heart, thanked Almighty God for his “good success;”[44] and his father wrote him as follows:—

[Pg 46]

Writing to his brother Samuel, Wesley says:—

The following, which was also addressed to his brother Samuel, is amusing. Wesley was so poor that he could ill afford to employ a barber to cut and dress his hair, even when his mother wished it, and when he himself thought it might improve his personal appearance.

[Pg 47]

Charles Wesley had just removed from Westminster School to the university, being elected to the same college as that in which his brother had spent the last six years. John obtained leave of absence from Lincoln College, and spent the summer at Epworth and Wroote with his venerated parents. Here he usually read prayers and preached twice every sabbath; pursued his studies with the greatest diligence; and conversed with his father and mother on many of the chief topics of practical religion, noting in his diary such of their rules and maxims as appeared to him important.[49] While here, he wrote his paraphrase on the 104th Psalm,—a production of genius fully showing that if Wesley had cultivated his poetic talents he might easily have attained to no inferior position among the bards of Britain. The following is an extract:—

“Make poetry your diversion,”[51] said Wesley’s mother, “but not your business;” and because he acted on this advice his poetical pieces are comparatively few. It is well known, however, that some of the noblest hymns in the Wesleyan hymn-book were written by John Wesley’s pen. What can exceed, in poetic grandeur, the three hymns beginning with the line:—

“Father of all, whose powerful voice,” etc.

Or the two hymns commencing with:—

“O God, Thou bottomless abyss,” etc.

Or the hymn beginning:—

“O God, of good the’ unfathomed sea,” etc.

Or again:—

“O God the Son, in whom combine,” etc.

[Pg 48]

Or again:—

Or again, the two hymns commencing with:—

“Commit thou all thy griefs,” etc.

Or again:—

“Thou hidden love of God, whose height,” etc.

Let it be granted that these and others were translations; but still it must be ceded that the words, if not the thoughts, are Wesley’s; and that never, in uninspired language, is God adored and praised in loftier or more sacred strains than in the singing of the hymns above mentioned. Apart from his numerous hymn-books, Wesley, at different times, published five volumes of poetry, and, to the day of his death, read it with the richest relish.

Wesley returned to Oxford on the 21st of September, 1726, and resumed his studies. His literary character was now established at the university. All parties acknowledged him to be a man of talents and of learning; while his skill in logic was known to be remarkable. The result was, though he was only in the twenty-third year of his age, and had not yet taken a master’s degree, he was, within two months after his return from Epworth, on November 7th, elected Greek lecturer and moderator of the classes.

At the commencement of the year 1727, Wesley, in a letter,[52] tells his mother that he had drawn up for himself a scheme of studies, and had “perfectly come over to her opinion, that there are many truths it is not worth while to know. If we had a dozen centuries of life allowed us, we might, perhaps, be pardoned for spending a little time upon such curious trifles; but, with the small pittance of life we have, it would be great ill husbandry to spend a considerable part of it in what makes neither a quick nor a sure return.” Wesley adds, that, about the time of his ordination, he had, while watching with a college friend a young lady’s funeral, attempted to make his friend a Christian. From that time[Pg 49] this youth was exceedingly serious; and a fortnight ago had died of consumption. Wesley was with him three days before his decease, and on the Sunday following, in accordance with his friend’s desire while living, he did him the last good office that he could by preaching his funeral sermon. Here was Wesley’s first convert.

Another friend must be introduced, not so serious as the sight of a funeral has a tendency to make us, but a sprightly young collegian, more vivacious than religious, who, in 1729, became one of the first four Methodists that met together to read the Greek Testament,[53] and whose portrait occupies a place in the large and beautiful engraving of “The Rev. John Wesley and his Friends at Oxford.” The following letter is valuable only as it tends to show that Wesley, and some of his college friends, were not yet so intensely religious as they became soon after.

The above somewhat frothy epistle indicates an important fact, that Wesley was in love with Miss Betty, Kirkham’s sister, or, at all events, that Kirkham wished to have him for a brother. Nothing more is known of this incipient courtship, except that in a letter to Wesley, dated five days after Kirkham’s, and written by Martha Wesley, it is said, “When I knew that you were just returned from Worcestershire, where I suppose you saw your Varanese, I then ceased to wonder at your silence, for the sight of such a woman, ‘so known, so loved,’ might well make you forget me. I really have myself a vast respect for her, as I must necessarily have for one that is so dear to you.” Wesley soon became far too much immersed in more serious things to have time to think of wooing. He writes:—

“Removing to another (Lincoln) college, I began to see more and more the value of time. I applied myself closer to study. I watched more carefully against actual sins. I advised others to be religious, according to that scheme of religion by which I modelled my own life. But meeting now with Mr. Law’s ‘Christian Perfection’ and ‘Serious Call,’ although I was much offended at many parts of both, yet they convinced me more than ever of the exceeding height and breadth and depth of the law of God. The light flowed in so mightily upon my soul, that everything appeared in a new view. I cried to God for help, resolved, as I had never done before, not to prolong the time of obeying Him. And by my continued endeavour to keep His whole law, inward and outward, to the utmost of my power, I was persuaded that I should be accepted of Him, and that I was even then in a state of salvation.”[55]

William Law will have to be noticed hereafter. Suffice it to remark now, that, after obtaining a fellowship at Emanuel[Pg 51] College, Cambridge, and officiating as a curate in the metropolis, he refused to take the oaths prescribed by parliament on the accession of George I., lost his fellowship, left the pulpit, and became tutor to Edward Gibbon, father of the renowned historian. He was now resident at Putney, and is described as rather above the middle size, stout but not corpulent, with broad shoulders, grey eyes, round visage, well-proportioned features, an open countenance, and rather inclined to be merry than mournful. His “Christian Perfection” was first published in 1726, just before Wesley read it; and, in strong, clear, racy language, maintains that Christianity requires a change of nature, a renunciation of the world and worldly tempers, self-denial and mortification, in short, a life perfectly devoted to the service of God. Clergymen are reminded that it is far more important to visit the poor and sick, and to be wholly occupied in the cure of souls, than in studying the old grammarians. Vain books and stage entertainments are denounced in the strongest terms; and a close imitation of the life and example of Christ Jesus is enforced with the utmost earnestness. The work throughout is one of the most intensely religious books in the English language; and had it shown the way of attaining holiness as clearly as it enforces the practice of it, it would in all respects have been unequalled. The “Serious Call” is a kindred book, and written in the same earnest and pungent style. “It is,” wrote Wesley, within eighteen months of his decease,—“It is a treatise which will hardly be excelled, if it be equalled, in the English tongue, either for beauty of expression, or for justness and depth of thought.”[56]

The effect produced upon Wesley,[57] by reading these two invaluable books, was immense. “I was convinced,” says he “more than ever of the impossibility of being half a Christian, and determined to be all devoted to God, to give Him all my soul, my body, and my substance.”[58]

[Pg 52]

Wesley’s intentions were as sincere and pure as grace could make them; but his ideas of Christian truth were confused, misty, erroneous. He was spending several hours every day in reading the Scripture in the original tongues; and yet he tells us that it was not until years after this that he became convinced of the great truths, which, above all other truths, gave rise to the societies of the people called Methodists. These truths he himself has specified in the following terms:—“The justification, whereof our articles and homilies speak, means present forgiveness, pardon of sins, and consequently acceptance with God. I believe the condition of this is faith; I mean, not only that without faith we cannot be justified, but also that, as soon as any one has true faith, in that moment he is justified. Good works follow this faith, but cannot go before it; much less can sanctification, which implies a continued course of good works, springing from holiness of heart.

“Repentance must go before faith, and fruits meet for it, if there be opportunity. By repentance, I mean conviction of sin, producing real desires and sincere resolutions of amendment; and by ‘fruits meet for repentance,’ I mean forgiving our brother, ceasing from evil and doing good, using the ordinances of God, and in general obeying Him according to the measure of grace which we have received. But these I cannot as yet term good works; because they do not spring from faith and the love of God.

“By salvation I mean, not barely deliverance from hell, or going to heaven, but a present deliverance from sin, a restoration of the soul to its primitive health, its original purity; a recovery of the Divine nature; the renewal of our souls after the image of God, in righteousness and true holiness, in justice, mercy, and truth. This implies all holy and heavenly tempers, and by consequence, all holiness of conversation.

“Faith is the sole condition of this salvation. Without faith we cannot thus be saved; for we cannot rightly serve God unless we love Him. And we cannot love Him unless we know Him; neither can we know Him unless by faith.

“Faith, in general, is a Divine, supernatural evidence, or conviction of things not seen; that is, of things past, future, or spiritual. Justifying faith implies, not only a Divine evidence, or conviction, that God was in Christ, reconciling the[Pg 53] world unto Himself; but a sure trust and confidence that Christ died for my sins; that He loved me and gave Himself for me. And the moment a penitent sinner believes this, God pardons and absolves him.

“And as soon as his pardon or justification is witnessed to him by the Holy Ghost, he is saved. He loves God and all mankind. He has the mind that was in Christ, and power to walk as He also walked. From that time (unless he makes shipwreck of the faith) salvation gradually increases in his soul.

“The Author of faith and salvation is God alone. He is the sole Giver of every good gift, and the sole Author of every good work. There is no more of power than of merit in man; but as all merit is in the Son of God, in what He has done and suffered for us, so all power is in the Spirit of God. And therefore every man, in order to believe unto salvation, must receive the Holy Ghost. This is essentially necessary to every Christian, in order to have faith, peace, joy, and love. Whoever has these fruits of the Spirit cannot but know and feel that God has wrought them in his heart.”

The reader has here, in Wesley’s own words, a summary of all the doctrines which technically may be termed the doctrines of the first Methodists. It was the preaching of these doctrines, and of these only, that created Methodism in 1739. And, to be faithful to the principles of their founder, the Methodists of this, and of every age succeeding, must, MUST make these the chief doctrines of their ministry. Wesley preached other truths besides these: but these were the truths which distinguished him from his fellows; which gave birth to the system that bears his name; and which he always made prominent in his sermons and in his books, to the end of life. Methodism will sink and deservedly become extinct, when it ceases to proclaim, as its greatest dogmas, the above summary of Methodistic doctrines, drawn up by Wesley himself in 1744.

This summary is introduced here because, notwithstanding his deep religious feeling, his pure intentions, and his strict morality, the doctrines it embraces were doctrines of which Wesley remained strangely ignorant for nearly thirteen years after his ordination, in 1725. He writes: “It was many years[Pg 54] after I was ordained deacon, before I was convinced of the great truths above recited. During all that time, I was utterly ignorant of the nature and condition of justification. Sometimes I confounded it with sanctification (particularly when I was in Georgia); at other times I had some confused notion about the forgiveness of sins; but then I took it for granted the time of this must be either the hour of death, or the day of judgment. I was equally ignorant of the nature of saving faith; apprehending it to mean no more than a ‘firm assent to all the propositions contained in the Old and New Testaments.’”[59]

Such, at this period, were Wesley’s views of Christian truth, principally derived from his mother, from Thomas à Kempis, Jeremy Taylor, and William Law. Some have charged him with embracing the mystic divinity, but, except so far as the mystic writers denied the doctrine of justification by faith, the charge is unfounded. In reply to this accusation, Wesley writes: “It is true that, for a while, I admired the mystic writers. But I dropped them, even before I went to Georgia; long before I knew or suspected anything as to justification by faith. Therefore all that follows of my ‘making my system of divinity more commodious for general use,’ having no foundation, falls to the ground at once. I never was ‘in the way of mysticism’ at all.”[60]

Wesley took his degree of Master of Arts, on February 14, 1727. In his disputation for this he acquired considerable reputation; delivering three lectures on the occasion, one “De Anima Brutorum;” a second, “De Julio Cæsare;” and a third, “De Amore Dei.” These early orations seem to be entirely lost.

Another step taken by Wesley, about the same period, was to rid himself of unprofitable friends. He writes: “When it pleased God to give me a settled resolution to be not a nominal, but a real Christian (being then about twenty-two years of age), my acquaintance were as ignorant of God as myself. But there was this difference: I knew my own ignorance; they did not know theirs. I faintly endeavoured to[Pg 55] help them, but in vain. Meantime, I found, by sad experience, that even their harmless conversation, so called, damped all my good resolutions. I saw no possible way of getting rid of them, unless it should please God to remove me to another college. He did so, in a manner utterly contrary to all human probability. I was elected fellow of a college where I knew not one person. I foresaw abundance of people would come to see me, either out of friendship, civility, or curiosity; and that I should have offers of acquaintance new and old: but I had now fixed my plan. I resolved to have no acquaintance by chance, but by choice; and to choose such only as would help me on my way to heaven. In consequence of this, I narrowly observed the temper and behaviour of all that visited me. I saw no reason to think that the greater part of these truly loved or feared God: therefore, when any of them came to see me, I behaved as courteously as I could; but to the question, ‘When will you come to see me?’ I returned no answer. When they had come a few times, and found I still declined returning the visit, I saw them no more. And, I bless God, this has been my invariable rule for about three-score years. I knew many reflections would follow; but that did not move me, as I knew full well it was my calling to go through evil report and good report.”[61]

Thus did Wesley free himself from trifling companions. About the same time, some one proposed to him a well endowed school in Yorkshire, and suggested, as an inducement for him to accept it, that it was situated “in a little vale, so pent up between two hills” that it was scarcely accessible; a place where he could “expect little company from without, and within none at all.”[62] This school was either never offered, or, if it was, the offer was declined.

Wesley now laid down a plan of study, and closely followed it. Mondays and Tuesdays he devoted to the Greek and Roman classics, historians and poets; Wednesdays, to logic and ethics; Thursdays to Hebrew and Arabic; Fridays to metaphysics and natural philosophy; Saturdays to oratory and poetry, chiefly composing; and Sundays, to divinity. In intermediate hours, he perfected himself in the French[Pg 56] language, which he had begun to learn two or three years before; sometimes amused himself with experiments in optics; and in mathematics studied Euclid, Keil, and Sir Isaac Newton. First, he read an author regularly through, and then transcribed into a commonplace book such passages as he thought important or beautiful. In this way he greatly increased his stock of knowledge and inured himself to hard working.

His father was now sixty-five years of age, and was already palsied; his mother also was in exceedingly ill health; and hence, in August, 1727, he removed to Lincolnshire, for the purpose of officiating as his father’s curate at Epworth and at Wroote; and here, with the exception of about three months, he remained until November, 1729.

The details of this period of two years and a quarter in Wesley’s history are few. His life at Epworth and Wroote was doubtless the ordinary every-day sort of life of an earnest country parish clergyman. Fortunately, one of his sermons, preached during the time that he was his father’s curate, has been preserved, and is important as showing how, from the very commencement of his ministry, he rigidly adhered to the principle of preaching the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. The text is 2 Corinthians ii. 17, and the subject of the sermon is that of “corrupting the word of God.” Among corrupters he notices:—1. Those who introduce “into it human mixtures, and blend with the oracles of God impure dreams, fit only for the mouth of the devil.” 2. Those who mix it “with false interpretations.” 3. Those who do not add to it but take from it, “washing their hands of stubborn texts, that will not bend to their purposes, or that too plainly touch upon the reigning vices of the places where they live.” Those who do not corrupt the word of God “preach it genuine and unmixed,” unimpaired and in all its fulness. “They speak with plainness and boldness, and are not concerned to palliate their doctrine to reconcile it to the tastes of men. They will not, they dare not, soften a threatening so as to prejudice its strength; neither represent sin in such mild colours as to impair its native blackness.”[63]

Here we have Wesley, in the twenty-fifth year of his age,[Pg 57] displaying the same conscientious fidelity and unflinching boldness, which so strikingly characterized the whole of his future ministry.

In July, 1728, Wesley repaired to Oxford, where, on Sunday, September 22, he was ordained priest by Dr. Potter, who had ordained him deacon in 1725. Nine days afterwards, he returned to his curacy at Wroote, where, as already stated, he continued preaching and fulfilling other ministerial duties until November 22, 1729.

What were the results of Wesley’s preaching? Wesley himself shall tell us. He writes: “I preached much, but saw no fruit of my labour. Indeed, it could not be that I should; for I neither laid the foundation of repentance, nor of believing the gospel; taking it for granted that all to whom I preached were believers, and that many of them needed no repentance.”[64] Let Christian ministers be admonished. Is it not a fact—a general, if not universal fact—that where these doctrines are not preached all other preaching is almost, if not altogether, useless? Christ’s ministry throughout was in perfect accordance with its commencement, when following John the Baptist, as His high herald, He cried, “Repent ye, and believe the gospel.” This kind of preaching is always useful. Would to God we had more of it at the present day!

Wroote was a wretched place. Wesley says it was “surrounded with bogs;”[65] and, according to Samuel, his brother, the parsonage was roofed with thatch and made lively by the mingled music of “kittens and whelps,” “pigs and porkets,” “bellowing kine and bleating lambs, quacking ducks and fluttering hens.” Describing his father’s presence there, he writes:—

The church was a small brick building, and the population, even as late as 1821, was under three hundred. The people were, says Mehetabel Wesley, “unpolished wights,” as “dull as asses,” and with heads “as impervious as stones.”

Such were Wesley’s parish and parishioners—not exactly the place where a poetical genius and classic scholar was likely to luxuriate; and yet there is no reason to entertain a doubt that Wesley was happy in his new sphere of labour. He loved retirement, and here he had it. It is not improbable that, for many a long year, Wroote would have been his residence, had not the rector of Lincoln College wished to have him back to Oxford. This gentleman had rendered such service to the Wesley family that the venerable father used to say, “I can refuse him nothing.”[67] Accordingly, the following letter, by Dr. Morley, was irresistible.

And so, because Fenton had a perpetual curacy, too good to be given up; and because Robinson, in his two parishes, had[Pg 59] as much work as he could do, Wesley was forcibly removed from Wroote, and brought back to Oxford to fulfil his functions as a fellow. No time was lost. He returned to Oxford on November 22, 1729, and here continued until he embarked for Georgia on the 14th of October, 1735.

WESLEY returned to Oxford shortly after the coronation of George II. In some respects this was an age of giants. Bolingbroke, though a rake and an infidel, was a man of exalted powers and of splendid eloquence. Walpole, more than any other man, was the means of keeping the British crown on the heads of the house of Hanover. The Earl of Granville, by his brilliant talents, raised himself to the highest offices of state; though, thinking ignorance the best security for obedience, he opposed the education of the poor, and disliked the propagation of Christ’s religion in the colonies. Chesterfield was a gambler and a roué, but, as Johnson said, “he was also a wit among lords, and a lord among wits.”

In the Church, Atterbury, though a Jacobite, passionate, ambitious, and double dealing, was also talented, learned, and eloquent. Whiston, though extremely heterodox, was a man of great ability. Gibson, Bishop of London, was one whose piety was equal to his erudition. Hoadly, Bishop of Winchester, has, not without reason, been pronounced “the greatest dissenter that ever wore a mitre.” Sherlock was famous for his pulpit power. The head of Waterland was “an immense library, where the treasures of learning were arranged in such exact order that whatever he or his friends wanted he could produce at once.” To these might be added Butler, Secker, Warburton, and others.

Among the Dissenters we find Edmund Calamy, Isaac Watts, Nathaniel Lardner, and Philip Doddridge.

Among men of science and of letters, Edmund Halley was exploring the starry heavens; and Sir Hans Sloane was revelling among the plants and flowers of earth. Nicholas Saunderson, blind from childhood, was lecturing upon optics; Roubiliac was making marble almost breathe, and Handel[Pg 61] composing his immortal oratorios. Tindal was pouring out his streams of erudite infidelity. Daniel De Foe was still living. Bentley was at the zenith of his literary fame. Jonathan Swift was playing the part of a clever ecclesiastical buffoon. Edward Young was pondering poetry among the tombs of his own churchyard. Pope was employing his accomplished genius, surrounded by the beauties of his lovely retreat at Twickenham. Gay was composing comedies with more ability than ambition. Richardson, afterwards the novelist, was writing “indexes, prefaces, and honest dedications.” Savage was penning beautiful ideas amid tavern riots and cellar filth. Thomson, so lazy as to be a fit occupant for his own “Castle of Indolence,” was suffering his eye to roll in a fine frenzy among the beauties of the “Seasons;” and Samuel Johnson was preparing himself to be the Jupiter of letters, and to rule the literary world.

Greatness unfortunately does not always give birth to goodness. “Never,” says a modern writer,[68] “has century risen on Christian England so void of soul and faith as that which opened with Queen Anne, and which reached its misty noon beneath the second George—a dewless night succeeded by a sunless dawn. There was no freshness in the past, and no promise in the future. The Puritans were buried, and the Methodists were not born. The philosopher of the age was Bolingbroke, the moralist was Addison, the minstrel was Pope, and the preacher was Atterbury. The world had the idle, discontented look of the morning after some mad holiday, and, like rocket-sticks and the singed paper from last night’s squibs, the spent jokes of Charles and Rochester lay all about, and people yawned to look at them. The reign of buffoonery was past, but the reign of faith and earnestness had not commenced.”

Let it not be said that this is modern imagination. Bishops are, or ought to be, sober minded men, and to one of these we refer the reader for a testimony concerning the moral and religious state of England during the period of which we are now writing. The Bishop of Lichfield, in 1724, in a sermon before the Society for the Reformation of Manners, said:—

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“The Lord’s day is now the devil’s market day. More lewdness, more drunkenness, more quarrels and murders, more sin is contrived and committed on this day than on all the other days of the week together. Strong liquors are become the epidemic distemper of this great city. More of the common people die of consumptions, fevers, dropsies, cholics, palsies, and apoplexies, contracted by the immoderate use of brandies and distilled waters, than of all other distempers besides, arising from other causes. Sin, in general, is grown so hardened and rampant, as that immoralities are defended, yea, justified on principle. Obscene, wanton, and profane books find so good a market as to encourage the trade of publishing them. Every kind of sin has found a writer to teach and vindicate it, and a bookseller and hawker to divulge and spread it.”

These were not rash and random statements. From the report of the society before which the bishop preached, it appears that in that very year, 1724, the society had prosecuted not fewer than 2723 persons for lewd, profane, drunken, and gambling practices; and that during the last thirty-three years the number of their prosecutions had been 89,393.

From the literature of the period, we learn that gin-drinking in the great towns of England had become a mania; the sellers of this pernicious spirit announcing on their signboards that they would make a man drunk for a penny, and find him straw on which to lie till he recovered the use of his lost faculties. In 1736 every sixth house in London was a licensed grogshop, and parliament, to check the evil, enacted that all intoxicating spirits should pay a duty of £1 per gallon, and every victualler £50 per annum for his licence.

In the higher classes of society, the taint left by Charles II and his licentious court still festered. Among the lower classes, laziness and dishonesty were next to universal. Superstition flourished almost as vigorously as it had done in the middle ages, and nearly every old mansion in England was haunted by a ghost, and almost every parish tormented by a witch. In the metropolis, Ranelagh and Vauxhall were the resorts of thousands, of the upper strata of society; and puppetshows, hops, balls, prize-fights, merry meetings, cockfights, and badger-baitings furnished entertainment for the[Pg 63] masses. In the rural districts, rustic squires found their greatest enjoyment in hunting foxes, and in gorging venison, and guzzling sack; while the peasantry relieved the monotony of their daily toils at wakes and fairs, and in wrestling, cudgel playing, and foot racing.

Extravagance was the order of the day. Scarcely one family in ten kept within its income. The grand controversy then, as now, was, who should out-dress, out-drink, or out-eat his neighbour. Citizens and young tradesmen, whose ancestors would have fainted at the sight of drawing-rooms, were the chief visitors at plays and masquerades; and even shopkeepers were seen wearing long wigs and swords, velvet breeches and hunting caps. Families, who were oftentimes resolved into committees on ways and means to pay a butcher’s bill, paraded themselves in attire the most pompous, and adorned with the richest brocades and jewels. London swarmed with ruined rakes and broken traders, who contrived to live in the best society by reciting scraps of poetry, singing licentious songs, and retailing drunken puns and quibbles. In fact, all ranks and classes seemed to be corrupted to the core. “A sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, a seed of evil doers; children that are corrupters; the whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint; from the sole of the foot even unto the head, there is no soundness in it, but wounds, bruises, and putrifying sores.”

What was done to improve this state of things? From a report of the charity schools, we learn that, in 1715, there were, throughout the kingdom, 1193 schools for the education of the children of the poor, containing 26,920 scholars. In other words, and to say nothing of other churches, there are at present in the Wesleyan-Methodist day-schools of England four times more scholars than there were in all the schools for primary education throughout the kingdom in 1715.

Turning from schools to churches, there is no amelioration of the dark picture. The Church, which ought to have reformed the nation, needed to be reformed itself. The Dissenters complained of their ministers conforming to the Establishment, but comforted themselves with thinking that the apostates were mainly young fops and dandies. The[Pg 64] three Dissenting denominations, Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists, considered themselves the great barriers to the doctrine of passive obedience to the crown, and of submission to the priestly encroachments of the Church. They maintained that they had greatly contributed to the interests of the Protestant succession, and had promoted a better observance of the sabbath, and the more frequent preaching of the high church clergy; but still they lamented that numbers of their ministers were immoral, negligent, and insufficient; that they devoted too much time to the fashionable study of the classics, and read their sermons instead of preaching them. They also complained of their children being sent to high church schools, and of the artful caballing of their congregations in appointing ministers to vacant pastorates. (See “Observations upon the Present State of the Dissenting Interest.” London: 1731.)

The clergy of the Established Church! What of them? Bishop Burnet, in 1713, wrote: “Our ember weeks are the burden and grief of my life. The much greater part of those who come to be ordained are ignorant to a degree not to be apprehended by those who are not obliged to know it. The easiest part of knowledge is that to which they are the greatest strangers; I mean the plainest parts of the Scriptures. They can give no account, or at least a very imperfect one, of the contents even of the gospels, or of the catechism itself.”

This is a doleful picture, but there was more than this. The dissensions in the Church of England then were quite as violent as dissensions now. The high church clergy were moral, and many of them talented and learned, but they were as intolerant as intolerance could make them. Of course, they held that none were ministers of Christ except those who had been episcopally ordained; and hence they held that all sacraments administered by Dissenters were invalid, and all Dissenting churches in a state of sin and damnation. They boldly preached the doctrine of a proper sacrifice being made in the Christian eucharist, and most furiously contended for the Divine right of kings, and the kindred dogma of passive obedience. Many of them, in heart at least, were Jacobites, and, while promising allegiance, regarded King George as a usurper, and branded those of their brethren who differed[Pg 65] from them with opprobrium. Endless were the pamphlets published, and fierce were the feuds of those who ought to have dwelt together in unity. The foulest sins were made sinless by intemperate zeal for the Pretender, and the fairest virtues were besmeared in those who showed a friendly feeling for Dissenters. A man might be drunken and quarrelsome all the week, but if on Sunday he bowed to the altar and cursed King William he was esteemed a saint. He might cheat everybody, and pay nobody, but if he drank health to the royal orphan, hated King George, and abhorred the Whigs, his want of probity was a peccadillo scarce worth noticing. On the other hand, a man might be learned, diligent, devout, and useful, but if he opposed the Pretender and Popery, or if he thought the Dissenters should not be damned, he was at once set down as heterodox, and, according to his importance, became a target for the poisoned shafts of high church malice.

Such, in brief, was the state of things when God raised up the Methodists. The court of England was corrupt to its very core, and the people were too faithful imitators of a bad example. Popery was intriguing, Dissenters were declining, and the Church was full of fiery and drunken feuds. Reformers, like the Methodists, were needed. Without them, or others of a kindred spirit, the nation must have sunk into an inconceivable depth of depravity, and social and political degradation. In estimating the benefits which have accrued from the great Methodist movement, the reader must think not only of the good effected but of the ill averted.

Methodism arose in Oxford, and not before it was needed, even there. When Wesley returned to the university in 1729, the vice-chancellor, the heads of houses and proctors, issued an edict, which was posted in most of the college halls, to the effect that certain members of the university had of late been in danger of being corrupted by the wicked and blasphemous notions of the advocates of pretended human reason against Divine revelation; and that therefore it was a matter of the utmost consequence that the college tutors should use double diligence in explaining to their respective pupils the articles of religion and their Christian duty, and in recommending to them the frequent and careful reading of[Pg 66] the Scriptures, and such other books as might serve more effectually the orthodox faith and sound principles.

The Dean of Christ Church, however, where Charles Wesley was a tutor, was so much a friend to infidelity, that he forbade the posting of this edict in his college hall, forgetting that there was One higher than himself, who, in that very college, had already begun to raise one of the strongest barriers against the spread of this pernicious evil.

A few months afterwards, on the 4th of July, 1730, it was announced in Fogg’s Weekly Journal, that one of the principal colleges in Oxford had of late been infested with Deists, and that three Deistical students had been expelled, and a fourth had had his degree deferred two years, during which he was to be closely confined in college, and, among other things, was to translate Leslie’s “Short and Easy Method with the Deists.”

Wesley was now a tutor in Lincoln College, and presided in the hall as Moderator in the disputations, six of which were held weekly; and, by this, he acquired the remarkable expertness in arguing, and in discerning and pointing out well concealed and plausible fallacies, which distinguished him to the end of life. He writes: “In November, 1729, the then Rector of Lincoln College, Dr. Morley, sent for me to Oxford, to take pupils, eleven of whom he put under my care immediately. In this employ I continued[69] till 1735, when I went as a missioner to Georgia.” Several of Wesley’s pupils were among the first Oxford Methodists.

The Methodist movement, however, was begun not by Wesley, but by his brother Charles. When the latter was elected to Christ Church, in 1726, he was a sprightly, rollicking young fellow, with more genius than grace; John spoke to him about religion, but Charles answered, “What, would you have me to be a saint all at once!” This was an unfavourable beginning; but, while John was serving as his father’s curate at Epworth and at Wroote, Charles began to attend the weekly sacrament, and induced two or three other students to attend with him. On John’s return from Lincolnshire, he heartily united with his brother and his friends. The regularity of their behaviour led a young collegian to[Pg 67] call them Methodists; and “as the name,” says Wesley, “was new and quaint, it clave to them immediately, and, from that time, all that had any connection with them were thus distinguished.”[70]

The name was not new. Wesley says “it was given in allusion to an ancient sect of physicians, of the time of the Emperor Nero, who taught that almost all diseases might be cured by a specific method of diet and exercise.”[71] This might be so, and yet it is a curious fact that the name was in use in England long before it was applied to Wesley and his friends. In 1693 a pamphlet was published with the title, “A War among the Angels of the Churches: wherein is shewed the Principles of the New Methodists in the great point of Justification. By a Country Professor of Jesus Christ.” And even as early as 1639, in a sermon preached at Lambeth the following perfumed eloquence occurs:—“Where are now our Anabaptists, and plain pack-staff Methodists, who esteem all flowers of rhetoric in sermons no better than stinking weeds, and all elegance of speech no better than profane spells?”

The two young gentlemen who, with Wesley and his brother Charles, were first called Methodists, were Robert Kirkham, already mentioned on a previous page, and William Morgan.[72] To these were subsequently added, George Whitefield, John Clayton, J. Broughton, Benjamin Ingham, James Hervey, John Whitelamb, Westley Hall, John Gambold, Charles Kinchin, William Smith, and Messrs. Salmon, Wogan, Boyce, Atkinson, and others.[73]

What shall we say of these Oxford Methodists?

William Morgan’s career was brief and painful; he was the first Methodist who passed the pearly gates of the celestial city. Charles Kinchin, a lovely character, soon followed him. Charles Wesley, in his incomparable hymns, left behind him one of the noblest legacies that an uninspired man ever bequeathed to the Christian church. George Whitefield was the[Pg 68] prince of preachers—a glorious emblem of the apocalyptic angel flying through the midst of heaven with the good tidings of great joy unto all people. And James Hervey will be loved and honoured as long as there are men to appreciate the highest order of Christian piety and the most mellifluent compositions in the English language.

The history of the Oxford Methodists is not, however, an unspotted one. Clayton’s high churchism was not an excellency to be admired. Broughton’s usefulness was crippled and cut short by his imperfect, stunted, stereotyped views of Christian truth. Westley Hall, though we hope he died a penitent, was, throughout the greatest part of his vicious life, an unmitigated scamp. John Whitelamb sunk down into an ecclesiastical village drone. Gambold, though good, was visionary, and throughout life was injured by his Moravian maggots. And Ingham, for many years one of the most successful of evangelists, through the ill judged connections that he formed, died beneath a cloud. But, with all these drawbacks, the reader is challenged to produce a band of godly friends, whose lives and labours have, upon the whole, issued in such an amount of blessing to mankind as that which has resulted from the lives and labours of the students who, in 1735, were known as “Oxford Methodists.” They were widely scattered; their views were different; they were often brought into painful collision with each other; but, with the one or two exceptions mentioned, they were all sincere, earnest, laborious, successful ministers of Christ; and five or six of them must for ever occupy a high position in the history of the Christian church. Clayton shunned the Wesleys; Broughton opposed them; Ingham left them; Hervey, though with Christian courtesy, wrote against them; Gambold, at one period, hesitated not to say that he was ashamed of them; and even Whitefield, for a little while, was alienated from them; but we earnestly hope and have little doubt that they have all long been re-united in that blessed world where friends are free from misconceptions, and where the din of controversial strife does not exist—a world where all churches are merged into one grand Church, the members of which make one vast, happy, and harmonious family, and sing in the same ceaseless tune the same great song for ever—the song of Moses and of the Lamb.

[Pg 69]

Of the Methodists, three were tutors in colleges; and the rest were bachelors of arts, or undergraduates. All were of one judgment and of one heart; and all tenacious of order to the last degree, and observant, for conscience sake, of every rule of the Church, and every statute both of the university and of their respective colleges. They all thought themselves orthodox in every point, firmly believing, not only the three creeds, but whatsoever they judged to be the doctrine of the Church of England, as contained in her articles and homilies. Practically, they had all things common; and no one was allowed to want what another had the ability to spare.[74] Wesley was nicknamed “the Curator of the Holy Club,” and not a few branded him a “crack-brained enthusiast”; and yet others acknowledged that though his views and doctrines were peculiar his piety was unimpeachable; and Mr. Gerard, the bishop’s chaplain, dared to express an opinion to George Lascelles, one of his revilers, that he “would one day be a standard-bearer of the Cross, either in his own country or beyond the seas.”[75] Charles Wesley paid the utmost deference to his brother, and all the Methodists acknowledged his fitness to be their chief director. This was not surprising, for, confessedly, he had more learning and experience than the others; and was blessed with such activity and steadiness that he was always gaining ground, and losing none. Every affair was well considered before he propounded it, and all his decisions were made in the fear of God, without passion, or self-confidence. His countenance also wore an air of authority; and yet there was no assumption of super-eminence; but all were allowed to speak their minds with the utmost freedom, and no one was a more respectful listener than himself. Hence it was, that, whatever proposals he submitted, they were readily adopted, and the brotherhood was as perfect as unity of sentiment and feeling could make it.

Every night they met together,[76] to review what each had[Pg 70] done during the day, and to consult what should be done the day following; their meetings always commencing with prayer, and ending with a frugal supper. Their plans of action were various. Some conversed with young students, and endeavoured to rescue them from evil company, and to encourage them in a sober and studious life. Others undertook the instruction and relief of impoverished families; others the charge of some particular school, and others of the parish workhouse. Some or other of them went daily to the Castle, and to the city prison, reading in the chapel, to as many of the prisoners as would attend, books like the “Christian Monitor” and the “Country Parson’s Advice to his Parishioners,” and then summing up the reading in a few sentences easy to be remembered. On the introduction of a new prisoner, they would subject him to the most searching examination as to whether he bore malice towards his prosecutors or others, and whether he repented of his sins, and used private prayer, and received the sacrament. Out of their own scanty means, and by quarterly contributions from others, they raised a fund to purchase books, medicines, and other necessaries for the prisoners, and to release those who were confined for debts of small amount. They read prayers at the Castle on most Wednesdays and Fridays, preached a sermon to the prisoners every Sunday, and administered the sacrament once a month. One of the schools which they visited was a school which Wesley himself had founded, the mistress of which he paid, and some, if not all, of the children of which he clothed.

In all this the world saw nought but oddity and folly, and called these hardworking and godly students “Bible bigots,” and “Bible moths;” but, in the midst of all, Wesley calmly pursued the path which he had marked out for himself and his friends. Gambold, in a letter written whilst Wesley was in Georgia, tells us that Wesley at Oxford was always cheerful but never arrogant. By strict watchfulness, he beat down the impetuosity of his nature into a childlike simplicity. His piety was nourished by continual communion with God, for he thought prayer to be his greatest duty; and often did Gambold see him come out of his closet of devotion with a serenity of countenance that was next to shining. The secret[Pg 71] consolations of God seldom left him, and never but in a posture of strong and longsuffering faith. In him there were no idle cravings, no chagrin or sickliness of spirit. Slanders never ruffled him, and his chief fear was lest he should grow proud of this conformity to his great Master. Coming home from long journeys, where he had been in different companies, he would calmly resume his usual employments, as if he had never left them. Himself setting an example, he urged upon his associates method, diligence, and early rising. His hours for private devotion were from five to six o’clock every morning and every night. Every day he noted in a diary what had been his chief employments; and one day every week he set apart for writing letters to his friends.[77]

His charity to the poor was limited only by the means at his command. One cold winter’s day, he tells us, a young girl, whom the Methodists kept at school, called upon him in a state nearly frozen, to whom he said, “You seem half-starved; have you nothing to wear but that linen gown?” The poor girl said, “Sir, this is all I have.” Wesley put his hand in his pocket, but found it nearly empty. The walls of his chamber however were hung with pictures, and these now became his accusers. “It struck me,” says he, “will thy Master say, ‘Well done, good and faithful steward’? thou hast adorned thy walls with the money which might have screened this poor creature from the cold! O Justice! O Mercy! Are not these pictures the blood of this poor maid?”[78] To say the least, this story shows the intense conscientiousness of the man, and his dread of spending anything upon himself which might have been spent more properly upon the poor. He says it was the practice of all the Oxford Methodists to give away each year all they had after providing for their own necessities; and then, as an illustration, he adds, in reference to himself, “One of them had thirty pounds a year. He lived on twenty-eight, and gave away forty shillings. The next year receiving sixty pounds, he still lived on twenty-eight, and gave away thirty-two. The third year he received ninety[Pg 72] pounds, and gave away sixty-two. The fourth year he received a hundred and twenty pounds; still he lived as before on twenty-eight, and gave to the poor all the rest.”[79]

Wesley at Oxford was as conscientious in the use of time as he was in the use of money. Finding that he awoke every night about twelve or one o’clock, he concluded that this arose from his lying longer in bed than nature needed; and, to satisfy himself, he procured an alarum which aroused him next morning at seven, an hour earlier than he rose the day previous; but still he lay awake again at night. The second morning his alarum roused him up at six; and the third at five; but notwithstanding this he still lay awake when he ought to have been fast asleep. The fourth morning, by means of his alarum, he got up at four, and now wakefulness was unknown to him. Sixty years after adopting this expedient to ascertain how much sleep his nature needed, he wrote, “By the grace of God, I have risen at four o’clock ever since; and, taking the year round, I don’t lie awake a quarter of an hour together in a month.”[80]

The Bible now, as ever afterwards, was Wesley’s book of books. He writes: “In 1729, I began not only to read, but to study, the Bible, as the one, the only standard of truth, and the only model of pure religion. Hence, I saw, in a clearer and clearer light, the indispensable necessity of having ‘the mind which was in Christ,’ and of ‘walking as Christ also walked.’ I considered religion as an entire inward and outward conformity to our Master. Nor was I afraid of anything more than of bending this rule to the experience of myself, or of other men; or of allowing myself in any the least disconformity to our grand Exemplar.”[81]

Such was Wesley in 1729. What about his friends? To some extent, their principles and practice may be learnt from the scheme of self-examination they adopted. They tried to act upon the principle of doing nothing without a previous perception that it was the will of God. Every morning and every evening they spent an hour in private prayer. They always prayed in going in and out of church. Three days[Pg 73] every week, though separate from each other, they, at the same hour, prayed in concert. In secret devotion they frequently stopped short to observe if they were using proper fervour, and, before concluding in the name of Christ, they adverted to the Saviour now interceding on their behalf at the right hand of God, and offering up their prayers. They habituated themselves to the use of ejaculations for humility, faith, hope, and love; used a collect every day at nine, twelve, and three o’clock; and each one said aloud, in his own room, a grace before and after eating. They embraced every possible opportunity of doing good, and of preventing, removing, or lessening evil. They tried to spend an hour every day in speaking to men directly on religious things, never relinquishing the objects of their attention till they were positively repelled, and always, before addressing them, trying to learn, as far as possible, their tempers, way of life, and peculiar hindrances. In order to converse usefully, they planned every conversation before they went into company; and considered what subject would be most useful, and how to prosecute it.[82] They persuaded all they could to attend public prayers, sermons, and sacraments; and, in general, to obey the laws of the church catholic, the Church of England, the state, the university, and their respective colleges. They refrained from thinking or speaking unkindly of any one; and used intercession for their friends on Sundays, for their pupils on Mondays, for those who particularly desired it on Wednesdays and Fridays, and for the family with whom they lodged every day.[83] They also communicated at Christ Church once a week.[84]

They had one, and only one, rule of judgment, with regard to all their tempers, words, and actions—namely, the oracles of God, and were one and all determined to be Bible Christians. The book which, next to the holy Scripture, was of the greatest use to them, in settling their judgment as to the grand point of justification by faith, was the Book of Homilies.[85]

They were tenacious, not only of all the doctrines of the[Pg 74] Church of England, but of all her discipline, to the minutest points, and were scrupulously strict in observing the rubrics and canons. In short, “they were,” says Wesley, “in the strongest sense, high churchmen.”[86]

Many of their proceedings were ecclesiastically irregular, though religiously right; and Wesley, fearful of doing evil even while doing good, wrote to his brother Samuel and to his father for advice. Samuel replied that, though there might be some things concerning which he was dubious, yet he would choose to follow his two brothers to the grave rather than they should abandon their course of piety, and especially that relating to the prisoners in the Castle.[87] The venerable rector, in his reply, said, “As to your designs and employments, what can I say less than Valde probo; and that I have the highest reason to bless God that He has given me two sons together at Oxford, to whom He has granted grace and courage to turn the war against the world and the devil?” At the same time, however, he advised them to obtain consent to visit the prisoners from the chaplain, who had charge of them, and likewise to seek the approbation of their bishop. This advice was adopted; the chaplain commended their design; and the bishop expressed himself as highly pleased with their undertaking.[88]

At the commencement of the year 1730, Wesley had the offer of a curacy, eight miles from Oxford, for three or for six months, at the rate of £30 a year; and this he readily accepted, not only because it opened to him a field of usefulness, but also because it enabled him to retain his horse, when he began to feel that he must sell it; for if he had not a horse of his own he must hire one to ride to his cure on Sundays, and the hire would be quite as expensive as the keep.[89]

It was in the same year that he begun his remarkable correspondence with Mary Granville, afterwards the celebrated wife and widow of the Very Rev. Dr. Delany, Dean of Down, in Ireland. Mary Granville, while living in Gloucestershire, became acquainted with Sarah, daughter of the Rev. Lionel Kirkham, of Staunton; and, ever after,[Pg 75] the two ladies were the most devoted friends.[90] We have already seen that Wesley was a visitor of the Kirkhams; and that, in 1726, a warm-hearted intimacy existed between him and one of the young ladies of that family, whose pet name, among her friends, was “Varanese.” It is almost certain that it was here Wesley was first introduced to the remarkable woman above-mentioned. Their correspondence with each other was conducted in feigned names, Wesley calling himself “Cyrus,” and Mary Granville calling herself “Aspasia,” that being the name by which she was often designated by her most intimate acquaintance.[91] The first letter from “Aspasia” is dated “August 28th, 1730.” She writes:—

The companion referred to was probably Mary Granville’s mother (with whom also Wesley corresponded),[93] or her beloved friend, Sarah Kirkham. Araspes was most likely a feigned name for Wesley’s brother Charles. On the fly-leaf of the letter there is a postscript, in the handwriting of Mary Granville’s sister, whose pet name was Selina, telling Wesley that Aspasia was about to visit Bath, and that, if he designed to wait upon her, he had best write to her to ascertain her movements. He is further told that “Varanese” (see Robert Kirkham’s letter, p. 50) had sent him a letter by the carrier about a fortnight ago, and wished to know whether it had come safe to hand.

[Pg 76]

Mary Granville, at this period, was the widow of Alexander Pendarves, Esq., and was three years older than Wesley. As a member of the Lansdowne family, she had moved in the most fashionable circles of London society, and was now a frequent attendant at ridottos, masquerades, operas, and other amusements: but, in the midst of all, she maintained an unblemished character; evinced talents and virtues of an exceedingly high order; was received at court during each successive reign; and, to the day of her death, was honoured with the notice and confidence of George III. and his Queen Charlotte. Are we justified in inferring, from the language employed in the postscript of the above letter, that Wesley was thinking of making Mary Granville (or rather Mrs. Pendarves) his wife? Or that there was some intrigue among his friends, to bring about an interview at Bath, and to initiate a correspondence which might ripen into something more than an ordinary intimacy between friends? A correspondence was now begun which lasted for four years, from August 1730 to July 1734. Mrs. Pendarves, however, remained in widowhood until 1743, when she married Dr. Delany. A few extracts, from some of Wesley’s letters to this distinguished lady, may cast some light upon the questions we have ventured to suggest, and will also help to illustrate his character at this important period of his history.

Aspasia made an inquiry of Wesley, couched in the following terms:—

Wesley replied:—

Mary Granville spent the summer of 1731 principally in London, and, to a great extent, in the family of Richard Colley, Esq., who, three years before, had succeeded to the estates of his cousin Garrett Wesley, Esq., of the county of Meath, and had assumed the name and arms of Wesley, and who, in 1746, was created Baron of Mornington. One day would be spent in boating upon the Thames, the Duchess of Ancaster affording them high amusement by singing, or rather catterwauling, a piece out of the “Beggars’ Opera”; the next day in witnessing the working of her friend Wesley’s orrery, and in representing Lady Shelburn at the baptism of a baby; another day in a jaunt to Greenwich. Then we find her attending court; and then sitting by the side of Hogarth, while painting a picture of the Wesley family, and obtaining a promise that he would give her instructions in drawing. In the midst of all this fashionable, fluttering[Pg 78] kind of life, John Wesley, at Oxford, was writing her frequent letters.

Under the date of June 19, he says:—

A month later, he writes:—

By return of post, on July 21, Aspasia answers:—

Three days later, on July 24, Wesley writes:—

Aspasia, in other words Mrs. Delany, spent the winter of 1731 in Ireland. On the 11th of March, 1732, writing to her sister from Dublin, she says:—

Twelve months after this, while still in Ireland, in another letter to her sister, she remarks:—

Here we close these specimens of correspondence. How are they to be interpreted? When begun, John Wesley was a young man, twenty-seven years of age, a fellow and tutor of a college, profoundly pious, and the leader of the Oxford Methodists. His fair correspondent was a young widow, only three years older than himself, the niece of Lord Lansdowne, opulent, talented, accomplished, beautiful, a favourite at court, and an intimate friend of the gentleman who had succeeded to the estates of Garrett Wesley, who had wished to make Wesley’s brother Charles his heir.[97] Did Wesley correspond with Aspasia merely for the improvement of himself in piety and knowledge? And did she correspond with Wesley merely because she sympathised with the principles and practices of the Oxford Methodists? To say the least, this is extremely doubtful. Mary Granville was a talented and[Pg 80] accomplished woman, but, in that respect, Wesley was greatly her superior. She was moral, and, upon the whole, religious; but her life, among her aristocratic friends, was fluttering and empty when compared with the intensely religious life of Wesley and his friends at Oxford. The correspondence is a puzzle. There is nothing that is sickly or merely sentimental; but, on both sides, there is an endearment which perplexes. Was Wesley enamoured? And was he groping his way to something else than ordinary friendship? Did Mary Granville experience a reciprocity of feeling? And was the reproach, which began to be heaped upon the Oxford Methodists, the means of quenching it? We know not. But, supposing such conjectures to be true, what then? Was Wesley inconsistent with his principles, or unpardonably ambitious in longing for such an alliance? Or did Mary Granville at all demean herself in reciprocating Wesley’s feelings? We think otherwise. Mary Granville ultimately married Patrick Delany, who, except that he had become rich by already marrying a wealthy widow, was, in no respect, the superior of John Wesley; and, in point of birth, was greatly his inferior; for, while the one was a son of an eminently learned clergyman of the Established Church, the other was the son of a servant to an Irish judge. The suspicions above mentioned are reasonable, though perhaps not true; and they naturally lead the contemplative reader to inquire, if Cyrus had married Aspasia, would Oxford Methodism have grown into what it afterwards became? If, to use Wesley’s words, Charles Wesley had “a fair escape” when he declined to become Garrett Wesley’s heir, had not Wesley himself “a fair escape” when his letters to the intimate friend of Garrett Wesley’s successor ended as they did?

This is an episode. We return to the Methodism of the Oxford Methodists.

In 1731, Wesley and his brother began the practice of conversing with each other in Latin when by themselves, and this they continued to the end of life. In the same year, a meeting was held by several of the senior graduates, to consult on the readiest way to stop the progress of the Methodist movement; and it was soon publicly reported that the censors were about to blow up the Godly Club. In April, Wesley, accompanied by his brother, set out on foot for Epworth; and,[Pg 81] after a three weeks’ visit walked the same distance back, having made two discoveries: 1. That four or five and twenty miles is an easy and safe day’s journey in hot weather as well as cold; and, 2. That it was easy to read as they walked, for a distance of ten or a dozen miles, without feeling either faint or weary. By this lengthened pedestrian tour they had been freed from all superfluous humours, and were not now in the slightest danger of an attack of gout. During their brief absence, however, their “little company” had “shrunk into almost none at all; for Mr. Morgan was sick at Holt; Mr. Boyce at his father’s house at Barton; Mr. Kirkham was about to leave to become his uncle’s curate; and another young gentleman of Christ Church had returned to the ways of the world, and studiously shunned their company.”[98]

In August, Wesley, writing to one of his pupils, says:—

In the meantime Wesley had begun observing the Wednesday and Friday fasts, commonly observed in the ancient church, tasting no food whatever till three in the afternoon. Some of his friends had left him; but he still diligently strove against all kinds of sin; omitted no sort of self-denial which he thought lawful; carefully used, both in public and in private, all the means of grace; and embraced every opportunity of doing good.[100]

In 1732, he wrote a sermon on the sacrament of the Lord’s supper, for the use of his pupils, in which he shows the duty of all Christians to communicate as often as they can. He asserts that, with “the first Christians, the Christian sacrifice was a constant part of the Lord’s day service; and that, for[Pg 82] several centuries, they received it almost daily; four days a week always, and every saint’s day beside.” He further asserts that the Church of England has taken “all possible care that the sacrament be duly administered, wherever the Common-Prayer is read, every Sunday and holiday in the year;” and that those who do not receive it, at least thrice in a year, are liable to excommunication.[101]

In the same month (February) in which Wesley wrote his sermon, his mother addressed to him a letter from which we extract the following:—

To this Wesley replied as follows:—

Such was the sacramentarian theory of the high church Oxford Methodists in 1732.

In the same letter, Wesley introduces another subject, showing that, after all, his earnest piety was not unmixed with morbidness. He continues:—

This was simply silly and absurd; for, on the same principle, a man ought to give up business, because business does not “immediately tend to the practice of piety.”

It has been already stated that, during Wesley’s brief visit to Epworth, in 1731, the Oxford Methodists were greatly scattered. In the spring of 1732, their forces were recruited by the adhesion of Mr. Clayton, and Mr. Broughton, and half-a-dozen pupils belonging to himself, his brother, and Mr. Clayton. Six evenings every week were spent, from six to nine o’clock, partly in reading and considering the Greek Testament, and partly in close conversation.[104]

In the month of July, Wesley, being in London, paid a visit to the Rev. William Law, at Putney, and commenced a friendship which lasted for several years. From this period, he began to read the “Theologia Germanica,” and other mystic writings, with what results will be seen hereafter. On the 3rd of August, he was made a member of “The Society for the Propagation of Christian Knowledge;” and, during his stay in London, received from Mr. Clayton a long letter, which will help to give the reader an insight into the difficulties and daily life of the Oxford Methodists. It was first published in the Wesleyan Times newspaper, of September 24, 1866.

The lull in the opposition to the Oxford Methodists was of short continuance. A month after the date of Mr. Clayton’s letter, Wesley had to mourn the death of his friend Morgan, and to defend himself against the accusation that Morgan had hastened his death by the rigorous fasting, which he had practised at Wesley’s recommendation.[105] Wesley’s long letter fully satisfied Morgan’s father, who expressed himself as[Pg 85] almost wishing to be one of the Oxford Methodists himself, and as ready to vindicate them from any calumny or aspersion that might be cast upon them.[106] There were others, however, of a different mind, for a fortnight after Mr. Morgan wrote thus to Wesley, an article appeared in Fogg’s Weekly Journal, to the effect that there were, in the Oxford University, a number of persons who, in order “to live up to the principles of Christianity had doomed themselves to absurd and perpetual melancholy;” and that “these sons of sorrow designed to make the whole place a monastery.” The writer continues: “These Methodists pretend to great refinements, as well as to what regards the speculative, as the practical part of religion; and have a very near affinity to the Essenes among the Jews, and the Pietists in Switzerland. The chief hinge, on which their whole scheme of religion turns, is, that no action whatever is indifferent; and hence they condemn several actions as bad, which are not only allowed to be innocent, but laudable, by the rest of mankind. They avoid, as much as possible, every object that may affect them with any pleasant or grateful sensations. All social entertainments and diversions are disapproved of; and, in endeavouring to avoid luxury, they not only exclude what is convenient, but what is absolutely necessary for the support of life; fancying, (as is thought,) that religion was designed to contradict nature. They neglect and voluntarily afflict their bodies, and practise several rigorous and superstitious customs, which God never required of them. All Wednesdays and Fridays are strictly to be kept as fasts; and blood let once a fortnight, to keep down the carnal man. At dinner, they sigh for the time they are obliged to spend in eating. Every morning to rise at four o’clock, is supposed a duty; and to employ two hours a day in singing of psalms and hymns, is judged an indispensable requisite to the being a Christian. In short, they practise everything contrary to the judgment of other persons, and allow none to have any (religion) but those of their own sect, which is the farthest from it.

“As these Methodists have occasioned no small stir in Oxford, so there has not been wanting a variety of conject[Pg 86]ures about them. Some are apt to ascribe their gloomy and disconsolate way of life to want of money; thus being denied the enjoyment of those pleasures they chiefly desire, they are weighed down by an habitual sorrow; and it is certain that their founder took formerly no small liberty in indulging his appetites. Others tax their characters with hypocrisy, and suppose them to use religion only as a veil to vice; and, indeed, if we should give credit to the several tales related of them, their greatest friends would be ashamed to stand in their defence. Others judge that their way of life is owing to enthusiasm, madness, and superstitious scruples. Among their own party, they pass for religious persons, and men of extraordinary parts; but they have the misfortune to be taken by all, who have ever been in their company, for madmen and fools.”

Such are some of the scandalous charges contained in this precious epistolary morsel,—we believe the first attack ever made upon the Methodists in the public prints. The entire letter is before us; but only a part of it is quoted,—first because there is a great amount of empty and ungrammatical verbiage unworthy of being admitted into what was, at that period, perhaps the most literary and respectable paper published—Fogg’s Weekly Journal; and secondly because there is one paragraph, which, despite its verbosity, is so loathsomely impure, that it would be a sin against both God and man to reproduce it.

The letter was published in Fogg’s Journal, on December 9th, 1732; and, within two months after, it was answered in an octavo pamphlet of thirty pages, entitled, “The Oxford Methodists: Being some account of a society of young gentlemen in that city, so denominated; setting forth their rise, views, and designs; in a letter from a gent, near Oxford, to his friend in London. Printed for J. Roberts, price 6d.” The second edition of this first defence of Methodism, published in 1738 “with very great alterations and improvements,” is that from which the following extracts are taken.

The writer says that he knew nothing of the Methodists till his friend requested him to make inquiry concerning them. On doing this, he was first of all told that they were “miserable enthusiasts and zealots;” and he found that almost[Pg 87] every one, with whom he conversed, had a prejudice against them; and yet, notwithstanding this, he was unable to learn that the least slur had been cast upon their moral behaviour, except that “they pretended to be more pious than their neighbours,” and that “they put a gloomy and melancholy face upon religion, and affected greater austerities and exemplariness than the doctrines of the gospel demanded.”

The writer continues; after he “had heard all that could be said against them by their enemies,” he “thought it was but fair to inquire of their friends what could be said in their favour.” He found it, however, difficult to meet with any who would acknowledge himself to be a friend; and hence he was obliged to seek his information from one of the Methodists themselves. It is probable that Wesley was the Methodist thus consulted; but, be that as it may, a full account was given of the origin of Methodism at the end of the year 1729, and of its progress to the present time. The writer adds: “The gentleman assured me, that they” (the Methodists) “were so diffident of themselves, especially when they found a spirit of contemptuous raillery stirred up against them, that they took advice from time to time of a worthy and venerable gentleman, a near relation of one of them, who had much knowledge and experience of the world; and that they formed their conduct upon his advice; and, upon the encouragement he gave them, they were determined, at all events, to persevere in the course they had begun.”

The “near relation,” referred to in this extract, was Wesley’s father; and the extract is of vast importance as tending to confirm the opinion that the “father of the Wesleys”—the noble-hearted rector of Epworth—deserves more credit for the organisation and establishment of Oxford Methodism than the Methodists and the Church have ever yet awarded him. Several of his “encouraging epistles” were shown to the inquiring writer of the pamphlet before us, and gave him “a high notion of the piety and good sense of the venerable author.” “How happy,” he writes, “are these sacramentarians, these Methodists, these enthusiasts, as their enemies call them, to have so very excellent a director! and how much are they to be commended for submitting their conduct and designs to so pious and experienced a judge.”

[Pg 88]

He then proceeds: “There are three points to which these gentlemen think themselves obliged to adhere—1. That of visiting and relieving the prisoners and the sick, and giving away Bibles, Common-Prayer Books, and the ‘Whole Duty of Man’; and of explaining the catechism to the children of poor families, and of dropping a shilling or so to such families where they deem it needful. 2. That of weekly communion. 3. That of observing strictly the fasts of the Church, which has caused some to call them ‘Supererogation Men.’”

After this, the writer proceeds to notice the accusations contained in the letter published in Fogg’s Weekly Journal, and, as far as necessary, replies to them.

Such is an outline of the first defence of Methodism ever published.

Wesley, in 1733, composed two sermons full of a great doctrine, which had well-nigh been forgotten—the absolute need of the influences of the Holy Ghost to convert the soul. It is a gross mistake to imagine that this, with its cognate truths, was not discovered and embraced by Wesley until his meeting with Peter Bohler in 1738. Take the following extracts from the first of the sermons above mentioned, and which was preached at St. Mary’s, Oxford, before the university, on January 1st, 1733.[107]

“The circumcision of the heart is that habitual disposition of soul, which, in the sacred writings, is termed holiness; and which directly implies the being cleansed from sin, from all filthiness both of flesh and spirit; and, by consequence, the being endued with those virtues which were also in Christ Jesus; the being so renewed in the image of our mind, as to be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect.”

Here we have propounded, in the plainest terms, as early as the year 1733, Wesley’s famous doctrine of Christian perfection. “This sermon,” said he, in 1765, “contained all that I now teach concerning salvation from all sin, and loving God with an undivided heart.”[108]

In the same sermon he tells us that, “without the Spirit of God we can do nothing but add sin to sin; it being as[Pg 89] impossible for us even to think a good thought without His supernatural assistance, as to create ourselves, or to renew our whole souls in righteousness and true holiness. He alone can quicken those who are dead unto God, and breathe into them the breath of Christian life.”

We are further taught that this holiness of heart is to be obtained “alone by faith, which is not only an unshaken assent to all that God hath revealed in Scripture, but in particular to those important truths,—‘Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners,’—‘He bare our sins in His own body on the tree,’—‘He is the propitiation for our sins; and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.’”

Then follows: “Those who are thus, by faith, born of God, have also strong consolation through hope. This is the next thing which the circumcision of the heart implies; even the testimony of their own spirit, with the Spirit which witnesses in their hearts, that they are the children of God.”

Then, as if intended to answer one of the false accusations which had appeared in Fogg’s Weekly Journal only three weeks before, and to justify one of the practices there condemned, he tells his reverend and learned auditors that this heart religion “does not forbid us, as some have strangely imagined, to take pleasure in anything but God; to suppose this, is to suppose the Fountain of holiness is directly the author of sin; since He has inseparably annexed pleasure to the use of those creatures which are necessary to sustain the life He has given us.” But, at the same time, “every good soldier of Christ will not only renounce the works of darkness, but every appetite too, and every affection, which is not subject to the law of God. Vain hope! that a child of Adam should ever expect to see the kingdom of Christ and of God, without striving, without agonizing first, to enter in at the strait gate,—without a constant and continued course of general self-denial.”

“This,” adds Wesley, “is God’s short and plain account of true religion and virtue. Other sacrifices from us He would not; but the living sacrifice of the heart He hath chosen. Let it be continually offered up to God through Christ, in flames of holy love. And let no creature be suffered to share[Pg 90] with Him; for He is a jealous God. His throne will He not divide with another; He will reign without a rival. Be no design, no desire admitted there, but what has Him for its ultimate object. This is the way wherein those children of God once walked, who, being dead, still speak to us.”[109]

Such then were the principles held by Wesley and the Oxford Methodists, in 1733. From these he never varied; and dark will be the day when they are either abandoned or forgotten by his followers.

The other sermon, written in 1733, was founded upon the text, “Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption.” Here again we are told that the Holy Spirit “is the great Fountain of holiness to His church. From Him flows all the grace and virtue, by which the stains of guilt are cleansed, and we are renewed in all holy dispositions, and again bear the image of our Creator. He is the immediate Minister of God’s will upon earth, and transacts all the great affairs of the church of Christ.”[110]

Precious truths are truths like these. Without them the church, no matter how learned, rich, respectable, and ritualistic, is utterly powerless in converting men. With them, nothing is impossible; for, in such a case, the church has, for the accomplishment of its purposes, not only the resources of man, but the omnipotence of God.

In the same year, 1733, Wesley issued his first printed production, “A Collection of Forms of Prayer for every day in the Week.” These prayers were originally intended for the use of his college pupils; but the reader may also gather from them some of the principles and aims of the Oxford Methodists.

They longed for the love of God to be the sole actuating power in the use they made of their understanding, affections, senses, health, time, and talents; that God might always be present to their minds; that they might ever have awful thoughts of Him, and never mention His holy and reverend name, unless on just, solemn, and devout occasions; nor even then, without acts of adoration; and that they might glorify Him by every thought of their hearts, every word of their[Pg 91] tongues, and every work of their hands, and by professing His truth, even to the death, if it should please Him to call them to it.

They wished to be made all kindness and benignity, all goodness and gentleness, all meekness and longsuffering; and to be filled with the whole spirit of humility, and to have it the constant, ruling habit of their minds. They dreaded applause, and desired never to speak a word that might tend to their own praise, unless the good of others required it. They endeavoured to abstain from all pleasures which did not prepare them for taking pleasure in God.

They acted upon the principle of excluding none from their charity, who were the objects of God’s mercy. They embraced all occasions to assist the needy, to protect the oppressed, to instruct the ignorant, to confirm the wavering, to exhort the good, and to reprove the wicked. They wished to look upon the failings of their neighbours as if they were their own; and never revealed them but when charity required, and then with tenderness and compassion.

Space forbids further reference to these prayers. Suffice it to say that, for reverential feeling, simplicity and beauty of expression, scriptural sentiment, Christian benevolence, and earnest longings for the highest holiness; for adoration, penitence, deprecation, petition, thanksgiving, and intercession,—they have no superiors, perhaps hardly any equals, in the English language. They are little known, and less used; but would be of great service to thousands of Methodists, if sometimes employed as an aid in their private devotions.

In January, 1733, Wesley set out on horseback for Epworth, to see his father, whose health was failing; and, on his way, had a narrow escape, by his horse falling over a bridge, not far from Daventry. His parents suggested to him the propriety of using means to obtain the Epworth living; but he was deterred from acquiescing in the proposal, by a conviction that, “if he could stand his ground at Oxford, and approve himself a faithful minister of Christ, through evil report and good report, there was no place under heaven where he was so likely to make improvement in every good work.”[111]

[Pg 92]

In May, he again went to Epworth, visiting, on the way, his friend Clayton, at Manchester, where he spent a sabbath, and preached thrice, in three different churches. On his return to Oxford, in June, he found the ill effects of his absence; for three of his own pupils and the whole of Mr. Clayton’s had abandoned the Methodists; and, instead of finding seven-and-twenty communicants at St. Mary’s, he now found not more than five. His friends were deserting him, and his enemies triumphing over him; but, in the midst of all, he stood unmoved. “My friends,” says he, “were either trifling or serious: if triflers, fare them well; a noble escape: if serious, those who are more serious are left, whom the others would rather have opposed than forwarded in the service they have done, and still do, us. As for reputation, though it be a glorious instrument of advancing our Master’s service, yet there is a better than that—a clean heart, a single eye, a soul full of God.”[112] “The thing that gives offence here is the being singular with regard to time, expense, and company. Ill men say all manner of evil of me, and good men believe them. There is a way, and there is but one, of making my peace. God forbid I should ever take it. I have as many pupils as I need, and as many friends; when more are better for me, I shall have more. If I have no more pupils after these are gone from me, I shall then be glad of a curacy near you; if I have, I shall take it as a signal to remain here. What I do is this; when I am entrusted with a person who is first to understand and practise, and then to teach, the law of Christ, I endeavour to show him what that law is. When he appears seriously sensible of this, I propose to him the means God hath commanded him to use, in order to that end; and a week, or a month, or a year after, as the state of his soul seems to require it, the several prudential means recommended by wise and good men. Only two rules it is my principle to observe in all cases; first, to begin, continue, and end all my advices in the spirit of meekness; and secondly, to add to meekness long suffering; in pursuance of a rule which I fixed long since, never to give up any one till I have tried him at least ten years.”[113]

[Pg 93]

These are significant facts. Methodism at Oxford was organised in 1729. Two years after, while Wesley and his brother were at Epworth, it dwindled into almost nothing; and two years later still, when it had increased to seven-and-twenty communicants, during another brief Epworth visit it was almost utterly destroyed, for the seven-and-twenty were reduced to five. All this goes to show that Wesley was the soul of this mighty movement, and that without him it would have been dissolved and become extinct.

It is far from certain that the seven-and-twenty communicants, just mentioned, were all collegians. On the contrary, there is strong presumptive proof that they were not; and, indeed, that some of them were ladies. One of them seems to have been Miss Potter, probably the bishop’s daughter, concerning whom Clayton writes to Wesley, in a letter dated “Manchester, September 10, 1733,” as follows:—

Whether there were other ladies besides this one, included in the seven-and-twenty Methodist communicants, it is impossible to say; but none were included in the five. The five poor Methodists remaining, not reckoning Wesley himself, nor Morgan who was dead, nor Clayton who was removed to Manchester, nor Whitelamb who was gone to Wroote, were doubtless Charles Wesley, Benjamin Ingham[115] and James Hervey (both of whom joined them in 1733), John Gambold, and, probably, Charles Kinchin. All honour to such names! They kept the fire burning when it was in danger of going out. Wesley was their master spirit; but they were faithful and willing co-workers.

[Pg 94]

Mr. Clayton, in the letter just quoted, refers to confession and to constant communion. Did the Oxford Methodists recommend confession? It would seem they did; hence the following extract from a long, unpublished letter, written at this period, and addressed to Wesley, by his sister Emily:—

Two other extracts from letters, belonging to this period, may be useful as illustrative of Oxford Methodism. In the month of July, 1733, Mr. Clayton, then resident in Manchester, wrote to Wesley as follows:—

Again, in another letter, dated “Manchester, September 10, 1733,” Mr. Clayton writes:—

These are important letters, not only as exhibiting the religious earnestness of Wesley and his friends, but as affording a glimpse of the high churchism of the Oxford Methodists. Wesley seriously contemplated the formation of a society, who should strictly observe saint days, holidays, and Saturdays, besides other ritualistic practices, down to superstitious admixture of sacramental wine with water. In truth, these were ardent spirits. Visiting prisons, and teaching children; rising at five every morning; praying for each other and for their friends; and observing the weekly communion, are things which all will regard with commendation: but the other were silly, popish practices, not only unauthorised and useless, but too much resembling the pernicious nonsense of the high church party of the present day to receive the approval of those who have learned to be thankful for the inestimable blessings of the great Protestant reformation.

The health of Wesley’s father was now extremely feeble; and it became an anxiously discussed family question whether Wesley should be his father’s successor. Samuel was first urged to use means to obtain the next presentation of the Epworth rectory; but he positively declined doing so, and directed his father’s attention to John. The correspondence[Pg 96] on this subject extends over the whole of the year 1734. The Epworth living was valuable, as may be judged by the fact that, though then worth only £200 per annum, it is now, through the relative changes that have taken place in the value of money and the price of food, worth near £1000.[118] The dying rector had been at great expense in improving the parsonage and its premises. Here he had diligently and faithfully laboured as an earnest parish minister for nearly forty successive years. Here most of his nineteen children had been born. Here he was about to die himself; and here he was anxious that his wife should die. John was pressed to secure the living, and thereby secure a continuance of the old homestead for his mother and his unmarried sisters. His brother Samuel allowed that at Oxford he would have “more friends, more freedom from care, and more Divine ordinances than he could have elsewhere;” but then at Oxford he was “despised,” and therefore could “do no good there.” To this John answered: “1. A Christian will be despised anywhere. 2. No one is a Christian till he is despised. 3. His being despised will not hinder his doing good, but much further it, by making him a better Christian. 4. Another can supply my place at Epworth better than at Oxford, and the good done here is of a far more diffusive nature; inasmuch as it is a more extensive benefit to sweeten the fountain than to do the same to particular streams.”[119]

In writing to his father, he put the case thus: “The question is not whether I could do more good to others there or here; but whether I could do more good to myself: seeing wherever I can be most holy myself, there I can most promote holiness in others. But I can improve myself more at Oxford than at any other place,” etc.

To this his father properly replied that our main consideration in choosing a course of life “is not dear self, but the glory of God, and the different degrees of promoting it.”[120]

John agreed to this; but argued that “that course of life tends most to the glory of God, wherein we can most promote holiness in ourselves and others;” and that at Oxford he had[Pg 97] several advantages for doing this which were almost peculiar to the place. 1. He could always have at hand half-a-dozen friends, nearly of his own judgment, and engaged in the same studies; persons who had wholly and absolutely devoted themselves to God, and who denied themselves and took up their cross daily. 2. He could not only have as much, but as little company as he pleased; for he had no trifling visitors, except about an hour in a month, when he invited some of the fellows to breakfast. 3. He was entirely free from worldly cares, for his income was ready for him on stated days, and all he had to do was to count it and carry it home. 4. He had the privilege of public prayer twice a day, and of weekly communion. 5. At Oxford there was room for charity in all its forms; poor families to be relieved; children to be educated; workhouses and prisons to be visited; and the schools of the prophets, where tender minds were to be formed and strengthened. 6. He had the joint advice of many friends in any difficulty that might arise; the good bishop and vice-chancellor to supply his want of experience; and a fund, which this year would amount to near £80, to supply the bodily wants of the poor, and thereby prepare their souls to receive instruction. In addition to all this, he alleges that the care of two thousand souls at Epworth would crush him; and that, were he to abandon all his Oxford advantages, he would not be able to stand his ground for a single month against intemperance in sleeping, eating, and drinking; against irregularity in study; against a general lukewarmness in his affections, and remissness in his actions; against softness and self-indulgence, directly opposite to that discipline and hardship which become a soldier of Jesus Christ.[121]

The letter from which the above is taken is dated December 10, 1734. His brother Samuel wrote a fortnight later, saying that his father had told him John was unalterably resolved not to accept the living, even if he could get it. Samuel protests against the decision, and says that in Wesley’s arguments he can see his love to himself, but he cannot see his love to his neighbour. Besides, he was not at liberty to resolve against undertaking a cure of souls, having been[Pg 98] solemnly engaged to do this at his ordination. Charles might be silly enough to vow he would not depart from Oxford, and thereby avoid orders; but the faith of John was already plighted to the contrary; and the idea scarce ever entered the head of any Christian but his own, that a parish priest cannot attain to the highest perfection possible on this side heaven.[122]

Wesley’s reasons and arguments were doubtless well intended; but they were feeble, sophistical, and inconclusive. It is easy to imagine that they would be painful both to his father and family; and it seems impossible to excuse them except upon the ground that God had elected him for another kind of work, and that by an unseen power he was prevented realising his father’s wishes. Wesley’s father died April 25, 1735, and the Epworth living passed into other hands; but before proceeding farther, we give the last letter Wesley received from him.

The venerable rector was now anxiously employed in the publication of his grand folio volume of 600 pages, “Dissertationes in Librum Jobi,” and had requested his son to assist him with the engravings for it.

Wesley endorsed this characteristic letter from his father with the words, “The last I received from him.” Thirteen weeks afterwards, the venerable man rested from his cares and earthly labours.

On June 11, 1734, Wesley preached before the university what his brother Charles calls “his Jacobite sermon,” for which he was “much mauled and threatened.” He was prudent enough, however, before preaching it, to get the vice-chancellor to read and approve of it, and hence was able to set “Wadham, Merton, Exeter, and Christ Church” objectors at defiance.

He then set out for Epworth, accompanied by Westley Hall, who proposed marriage to his sister Keziah, greatly to the satisfaction of all the parties concerned, except Hall’s own mother. On his return to Oxford, he spent some time in London, chiefly in consulting Mr. Law about one of his pupils, referred to in Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 46; but[Pg 100] also partly in putting through the press his father’s “Dissertations on the Book of Job.”[124]

About the same period, he began the practice of reading as he rode on horseback,—a practice he continued nearly forty years. He also made frequent excursions to different parts of the country, often on foot; and, during the year, walked more than a thousand miles, constantly preaching on the sabbath, and already acting the part of an itinerant. His walking, preaching, reading, studying, visiting, and fasting began to affect his health; he lost his strength, and frequently spat blood.[125] On the 16th of July, while asleep in bed, he had such an attack of bleeding as led him to exclaim: “O God, prepare me for Thy coming, and then come when Thou wilt!” His friends became alarmed; and his mother wrote letters blaming him for neglecting his health. A physician was called in, his advice adopted, and gradually the well worn devotee regained his lost vigour.[126]

Though Wesley’s letter to his father, dated December 10, 1734, seemed to decide the question respecting his seeking to obtain the Epworth living, his brother Samuel, during the correspondence arising out of it, started an idea which, ghost like, haunted Wesley for months afterwards, and which, we incline to think, had considerable influence in inducing him to change his views, and ultimately to go to Georgia.

Samuel, on Christmas-day, 1734, wrote as follows:—“You are not at liberty to resolve against undertaking a cure of souls. You are solemnly engaged to do it before God, and His high-priest, and His Church. Are you not ordained? Did you not deliberately and openly promise to instruct, to teach, to admonish, to exhort those committed to your charge? Did you equivocate then with so vile a reservation, as to purpose in your heart that you would never have a charge? It is not a college, it is not an university; it is the order of the Church, according to which you were called.”[127]

This was touching Wesley in a tender place. On conscientious grounds, he had already refused to apply for the[Pg 101] Epworth living; and yet here his brother Samuel maintains that on conscientious grounds, he is bound not to bury himself at Oxford, but to undertake a cure of souls, either at Epworth or somewhere else. His faith is plighted. Before God and His Church he has sworn to be, not a tutor, but a minister of Christ. What was the effect of this? In December, 1734, Wesley refused to apply for his father’s living; and yet, ten months afterwards, he left Oxford and set sail to Georgia. What occurred during this brief interval?

In January, 1735, Wesley wrote to Samuel, saying:—“I do not, nor ever did, resolve against undertaking a cure of souls. There are four cures belonging to our college, and consistent with a fellowship. I do not know but I may take one of them at Michaelmas. Not that I am clearly assured that I should be false to my engagement, were I only to instruct and exhort the pupils committed to my charge. But of that I should think more. I desire your full thoughts upon the whole, as well as your prayers.”[128]

To this Samuel replied, February 8, 1735:—“The order of the Church stakes you down, and the more you struggle you will be held the faster. If there be such a thing as truth, I insist upon it, you must, when opportunity offers, either perform that promise, or repent of it.”[129]

In answer, five days afterwards, John remarked:—“Your last argument is either ignoratio elenchi, or implies these two propositions: 1. ‘You resolve against any parochial cure of souls.’ 2. ‘The priest who does not undertake the first parochial cure that offers is perjured.’ Let us add a third: ‘The tutor who, being in orders, never accepts of a parish is perjured.’ And then I deny all three.”[130]

Samuel’s reply was as follows:—“An ordained tutor, who accepts not a cure, is perjured; alter the term into ‘who resolves not to accept,’ and I will maintain it, unless you can prove either of these two: (1) there is no such obligation at taking orders; (2) this obligation is dispensed with. Both which I utterly deny.”[131]

On the 4th of March John replied:—“I had rather dispute[Pg 102] with you, if I must dispute, than with any man living; because it may be done with so little expense of time and words. You think I engaged myself at my ordination to undertake the cure of a parish. I think I did not. However, I own I am not the proper judge of the oath I then took; accordingly, the post after I received yours, I referred it to ‘the high-priest of God,’ before whom I contracted that engagement, proposing this single question to him,—Whether I had, at my ordination, engaged myself to undertake the cure of a parish or no. His answer runs in these words: ‘It doth not seem to me that, at your ordination, you engaged yourself to undertake the cure of any parish, provided you can, as a clergyman, better serve God and His Church in your present or some other station.’ Now, that I can, as a clergyman, better serve God and His Church in my present station, I have all reasonable evidence.”[132]

Wesley’s father died within two months after this; and yet, during this short interval, Wesley seems to have been induced to lay aside his scruples and to apply for the Epworth living. He applied, but he was not successful. This is a bold assertion to be made in the teeth of statements directly opposite; statements made and repeated and re-repeated, without dispute, for more than the last seventy years: but before the reader rejects it, let him ponder the significance of the following letter, written by Wesley’s friend, Broughton, and published, for the first time, in the Wesleyan Times, of October 28, 1861:—

Broughton was now curate at the Tower, in London.[133] Henry St. John, Viscount Bolingbroke, was a politician of great ability and power. Sir Robert Walpole was prime minister. The Bishop of London was the celebrated Edmund Gibson. The Epworth living was a gift of the crown. Bear these facts in mind, and the above epistle will be easily interpreted.

Wesley’s objections to leave Oxford being overcome, probably by the hard facts and logic of his brother Samuel, he took steps to become his father’s successor. Broughton, who was evidently a man of influence and position, was employed to secure the help of Bolingbroke; and Bolingbroke had promised to use his endeavours to serve Wesley; but, on being pressed to fulfil his promise, shrank from doing so, on the ground that he had heard Gibson speak disparagingly of Wesley in Walpole’s presence; and, as the next presentation of the Epworth living was, ipso facto, at the disposal of these two dignitaries, it was almost useless to bring before them Wesley’s wish.

[Pg 104]

Broughton suggests two other steps to be taken, which might be of service in securing the living: (1) that the good services of the Bishop of Oxford be solicited; and (2) that the dying rector’s “Dissertations on the Book of Job,” dedicated to Queen Caroline, might be presented to her majesty as soon as possible. To adopt the second of these suggestions was impracticable, as the work was only in the course of being printed, and the first opportunity of presenting a copy to the queen did not occur until six months after the rector’s death. Whether the first was carried out we have no means of knowing.

The reader will excuse these lengthy observations, on the ground that they help to clear up what has always been a somewhat painfully mysterious chapter in Wesley’s history. It is not true that he could not be induced to apply for his father’s living. Indirectly, at least, he did apply, but failed; and, remembering this, the wonder is not so great that a few months afterwards he embarked for Georgia.[134]

Little more remains to be said before accompanying Wesley on his mission.

It was in the midst of this correspondence respecting the Epworth rectory, that George Whitefield was introduced to Wesley’s acquaintance, and became one of the Oxford Methodists.[135] Three years before, Whitefield had been admitted a servitor of Pembroke College, and had begun to pray and sing psalms five times every day. He longed to be acquainted with the Methodists, and often watched them passing, through ridiculing crowds, to receive the sacrament at St. Mary’s; but he was a poor youth, the servitor of other students, and shrunk from obtruding himself upon their notice. At length, a woman, in one of the workhouses, attempted to cut her throat; and Whitefield sent an apple-seller, attached to Pembroke College, to inform Charles Wesley of her condition;[Pg 105] and this led Charles to invite him to breakfast next morning. He was now introduced to the rest of the Methodists, and adopted all their rules. The master of his college threatened to expel him. Some of the students shot at him their shafts of ridicule; others threw dirt at him; and others took away their pay from him. Being in great distress about his soul, he lay whole days prostrate on the ground, in silent or vocal prayer; he chose the worst sort of food; he fasted twice a week; he wore woollen gloves, a patched gown, and dirty shoes; and, as a penitent, thought it unbecoming to have his hair powdered. Like all his brother Methodists, he observed Lent with the greatest severity, eating no flesh during the six weeks, except on Saturdays and Sundays. On the other days, his only food was coarse bread, and sage tea without sugar. Abstinence and inward conflicts brought on illness; but, after about seven weeks, he was enabled to lay hold on Christ by a living faith, was filled with peace and joy, and became probably by far the most happy member of the Oxford brotherhood.[136]

Mention has been already made of the first of Wesley’s publications,—his “Forms of Prayer,” printed in 1733. In 1735 he issued three others.

First, “A Sermon on the Trouble and Rest of Good Men, preached at St. Mary’s, Oxford, on Sunday, September 21st, and published at the request of several of the hearers.” London: C. Rivington. 1735. This sermon, in two respects, is remarkable; (1) for its un-Wesleyan theology; (2) for its boldly bearding Methodist persecutors in their head-quarters. The preacher tells his hearers that “perfect holiness is not found on earth; but death will destroy, at once, the whole body of sin, and therewith its companion—pain.” Two years before, in his sermon on “The Circumcision of the Heart,” Wesley had given a beautiful definition of “holiness;” but here he teaches that this holiness is not attainable in life; not until the hour of death; a different doctrine this to that which he afterwards embodied in his “Plain Account of Christian Perfection.” But however much the preacher lacked theological correctness, there was no lack of heroic daring: remembering[Pg 106] that, for six years past, he and his associates had been the constant butt of collegiate scorn and ridicule, and that his present congregation, in a great degree, consisted of those who had thought it a privilege to make themselves witty at his expense; one cannot but admire his pluck in telling them, face to face, that, “as at first, he that was born after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the Spirit, even so it is now, and so it must be, till all things are fulfilled. Despisers were now multiplied upon the earth, who feared not the Son, neither the Father; but blasphemed the Lord and His Anointed; either reviling the whole of His glorious gospel, or making Him a liar as to some of the blessed truths revealed therein. But in heaven good men are hid from the scourge of the tongue. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and the prophets do not revile, or separate them from their company. They are no longer despitefully used, and persecuted; neither do they groan under the hand of the oppressor. In a word, in heaven there is no earthly or sensual, no devilish spirit; none who do not love the Lord their God with all their heart.”

The second of Wesley’s publications, in 1735, was “The Christian’s Pattern; or, a Treatise of the Imitation of Christ. Written originally in Latin by Thomas à Kempis. With a Preface containing an Account of the Usefulness of this Treatise. Compared with the original, and corrected throughout. By John Wesley, M.A.” London: C. Rivington. Of this work he, at the same time, published two editions,—one in 8vo, 319 pages, with five engravings; and the other in 24mo, 344 pages, with a frontispiece.

His third publication was a manuscript written by his father, and was entitled, “Advice to a Young Clergyman. By a Divine of the Church of England.” 12mo, 76 pages.

We now bid adieu to Oxford. We have seen Methodism at its fountain-head; we must hereafter trace it, in its streams of blessing, all the wide world over. The principles and practices of Oxford Methodism may easily be gathered from the present chapter. Nothing has been omitted, nothing exaggerated, and nothing altered. The system was cradled in a storm, and more than once, even at Oxford, was in danger of perishing. At least twice, during Wesley’s absence, it was all but wrecked; and, from names casually mentioned, we incline[Pg 107] to think its permanently established converts were much less numerous than its timid, time serving backsliders. At all events, but for the ministry of the two Wesleys, of Whitefield, Ingham, Hervey, and Gambold, the memory of Oxford Methodism might, without public loss, have been buried in oblivion. As it is, no English historian can ignore it. In its results it is one of the greatest facts in church annals. At Oxford, it was far from perfect. It was misty, austere, gloomy, and forbidding; but it was intensely sincere, earnest, and self denying. Its principles and its aims may substantially be summed up in the words of Wesley himself, written forty years afterwards:—

“Two young men, without a name, without friends, without either power or fortune, set out from college with principles totally different from those of the common people, to oppose all the world, learned and unlearned; and to combat popular prejudices of every kind. Their first principle directly attacked all the wickedness; their second, all the bigotry in the world. Thus they attempted a reformation, not of opinions (feathers, trifles not worth naming), but of men’s tempers and lives; of vice in every kind; of everything contrary to justice, mercy, or truth. And for this it was, that they carried their lives in their hands; and that both the great vulgar and the small looked upon them as mad dogs, and treated them as such.”[137]

Let us follow them.

WESLEY’S father died on the 25th of April, 1735.

Immediately after that event, the chief of the Oxford Methodists were widely scattered: Gambold was a clergyman at Stanton-Harcourt; Ingham became a curate in Essex; Whitefield, though not ordained, went on an evangelistic tour to Gloucester, Bristol, and other places;[138] Broughton was chaplain at the Tower; and the two Wesleys repaired to the metropolis, where they were the guests of James Hutton, or rather of James Hutton’s father, in Westminster.

Mr. Hutton was now in the twentieth year of his age. At Oxford he had met with the Wesley brothers, and had invited them to visit him. His father was an ordained clergyman of the Church of England; but, not being able to take the oaths at the accession of George I., he had resigned his Church preferments, and now kept a boarding school in a house next door to that of Wesley’s brother Samuel. Here, on Sunday evenings, the venerable man held meetings, at which he read, and prayed, and sung with penitents; and here Wesley preached a sermon on “One thing is needful,” which was the means of converting both James Hutton and his sister.[139]

Just at this juncture, Dr. John Burton, of Corpus Christi[Pg 109] College, Oxford, was evincing great interest in the colonisation of Georgia. Three years before, he had preached and published a sermon, with an appendix on the state of the Georgian settlement. He now met with Wesley in London, and introduced him to Oglethorpe, who strongly urged the high church Methodist to undertake a mission to the infant colony. Wesley took counsel with his brother Samuel; asked the advice of William Law; and went to Manchester to consult his friends Clayton and Byrom. Thence he proceeded to Epworth, and laid the proposal before his widowed mother, who replied: “Had I twenty sons, I should rejoice if they were all so employed.”

On September 8 Dr. Burton wrote to him pressing him to consent to go. The doctor told him that “plausible and popular doctors of divinity were not the men wanted for Georgia; for the ease, luxury, and levity in which they were accustomed to indulge disqualified them for such a work.” He and the Georgian trustees wished for men who were “inured to contempt of the ornaments and conveniences of life, to bodily austerities, and to serious thoughts;” and such he considered Wesley.

Ten days after the date of this letter Wesley accepted the proposal, and Burton expressed his pleasure, and added, “You have too much steadiness of mind to be disturbed by the light scoffs of the idle and profane.”[140] In another long letter (hitherto unpublished), dated Eton College, September 28, 1735, Dr. Burton, after reminding Wesley that he will have a fine opportunity for usefulness during the voyage to Georgia, proceeds to recommend him, on his arrival, to visit from house to house, and preach everywhere. He tells him that “some of the colonists are ignorant, and most of them are disposed to licentiousness.” He adds: “You will find abundant room for the exercise of patience and prudence, as well as piety. One end for which we were associated was the conversion of negro slaves. As yet, nothing has been attempted in this way; but a door is opened. The Purisburghers have purchased slaves; they act under our influence; and Mr. Oglethorpe will think it advisable to begin there. You[Pg 110] see the harvest truly is great. With regard to your behaviour and manner of address, you will keep in mind the pattern of St. Paul, who became ‘all things to all men that he might gain some.’ In every case, distinguish between what is essential and what is merely circumstantial to Christianity; between what is indispensable and what is variable; between what is of Divine and what is of human authority. I mention this, because men are apt to deceive themselves in such cases; and we see the traditions and ordinances of men frequently insisted on with more vigour than the commandments of God to which they are subordinate.”

This was good advice, and, in Wesley’s case, not unneeded. Sixteen days after the date of Dr. Burton’s letter, Wesley embarked, taking with him five hundred and fifty copies of a treatise on the Lord’s Supper, besides other books,—“the gift of several Christian friends for the use of the settlers in Georgia.”[141]

James Edward Oglethorpe was the third son of Sir Theophilus Oglethorpe, of Godalming, Surrey. At a suitable age he entered the army, and became secretary and aide-de-camp to Prince Eugene. In 1722 he succeeded to his father’s estate, and obtained a seat in parliament, which he retained nearly thirty years. From the first, he showed himself to be a steady and faithful friend of humanity. These were days of harsh government. The gallows was the penalty for petty thefts; and each year, at least four thousand unhappy men in Great Britain were immured in prison for the misfortune of being poor. A small debt was quite enough to expose a struggling man to a perpetuity of imprisonment; and an indiscreet bargain doomed many a well-meaning, miserable dupe to lifelong confinement. Oglethorpe obtained a parliamentary committee, to inquire into the state of prisons; the result of which was that a large number of debtors were released from confinement, and restored to light and to liberty. Being released, it was a serious question what to do with them.

It so happened that, though the whole of the eastern seaboard of America seemed to be already parcelled out among companies and colonists, there was still remaining a com[Pg 111]paratively small strip of country, intervening between South Carolina and Florida, and situated between the river Alatamaha on the south and the river Savannah on the north, and having a sea-coast stretching a distance of sixty or seventy miles. This strip of land was a wilderness over which England held only a nominal jurisdiction; but it occurred to Oglethorpe and his friends to plant in this sunny clime those children of misfortune whom they had released from prison, but who were still without food and shelter. Accordingly, on the 9th of June, 1732, a charter was obtained from George II., erecting this thin slice of America into the province of Georgia, and appointing Oglethorpe and twenty other gentlemen (of whom Dr. Burton was one) trustees to hold the same for a period of one and twenty years, “in trust for the poor.” The benevolence of England was aroused. The trustees set an example of princely liberality by their private subscriptions; the Bank of England presented a donation of £10,000; an equal amount was voted by the House of Commons; and the total sum raised, with but little effort, and almost without solicitation, was £36,000. Within five months after the signing of the charter, the first company of emigrants, one hundred and twenty in number, set sail, with Oglethorpe as their commander, and the Rev. Henry Herbert, a clergyman of the Established Church, as their minister. At the commencement of the month of February, 1733, the colonists reached the high bluff on which Savannah is now erected, and encamped near the edge of the river. The streets of the intended town were laid out with the greatest regularity; and the houses were to be constructed on one model,—each a frame of sawn timber, measuring sixteen feet by twenty-four, its sides to be enclosed with unplaned boards, and its floor to be of rough deals, and its roof of shingle. Each freeholder was allotted fifty acres of ground, five of which were near Savannah, and the remaining forty-five farther off. Thus began the commonwealth of Georgia. The humane reformer of prison life was already the father of a state. A large number of Indians met him to make an alliance with his colony; the meeting was friendly; to each chief he gave a laced coat, a hat, and a shirt; and to their attendants gunpowder, bullets, linen, tobacco, pipes, tape, and eight kegs of rum, to carry home as presents to[Pg 112] their respective towns. In a letter, dated June 9, 1733, Oglethorpe states that a door was opened for the conversion of the Indians; and nothing seemed to be wanting but a minister who understood their language: in action and expression, they were masters of eloquence, and many of their speeches were equal to those which scholars most admire in the Greek and Roman writings.[142]

The next company of emigrants belonged to a different class. About a year before the charter for the Georgian colony was granted, a remarkable revival of religion took place at Saltzburg, in Germany. By merely reading the Bible, above twenty thousand people were led to renounce Popery and to embrace the Reformed religion. The popish priests complained to the Archbishop of Saltzburg that these Protestant converts assembled in various places, and sang hymns and offered prayers. The archbishop published an edict prohibiting such assemblies, upon pain of fines, corporal punishments, and even death itself. The new converts, however, still assembled as before; and now his serene highness the archbishop let loose his partisans, and commenced a murderous persecution, which drove thousands of innocent, unoffending, godly people into exile. Numbers were dragged to prison; some were led about with ropes round their necks; others had their hands so tightly tied with cords behind their backs that the blood spurted from their finger ends. The archbishop’s soldiers struck some of them in the face with their fists, calling them “heretic dogs and hell-hounds.” One poor fellow was fined seventy florins for singing a Protestant psalm of praise. Protestant preachers were called “murderers, buffle-heads, and children of the devil;” and the Protestant doctrine was stigmatised as “faith for swine and stinking goats.” Every one who embraced Luther’s doctrines “would be roasted in hell;” and the moment any one read his books the reader “became an offering to the devil.”[143]

What was the result? The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts heard of these poor persecuted[Pg 113] Protestants, and proposed to them to emigrate to Georgia. Thousands of them had fled from Saltzburg; and others were still in prison there, fed with bread and water, and employing themselves in praying and singing psalms. Large numbers were taken into service by Protestants at Augsburg and other places; and one section of the fugitives embraced the proposal just mentioned, and on October 31, 1733, set out for Georgia. After a discourse, prayer, and benedictions, and well supplied with Bibles, hymns, catechisms, and books of devotion, they began their pilgrimage, one wagon conveying all the chattels that they had, and two others their feebler companions and their little ones. We need not stop to tell the charities that cheered them on their journey,—how they entered Frankfort, two by two, in solemn procession, singing sacred songs,—and how they were joined at Rotterdam by the preachers Bolzius and Gronau, both disciplined in piety at the Orphan House of Professor Francke. Six days brought them to Dover, where several of the Georgian trustees met them and provided for their wants; and on January 8, 1734, they set sail, singing the “Te Deum” and praising God with both lips and hearts.

The Saltzburghers arrived in Georgia in the month of March, met with Oglethorpe, and chose a settlement twenty-one miles from Savannah, where there were “rivers, little hills, clear brooks, cool springs, a fertile soil, and plenty of grass.” At Charlestown, where they first landed, they ascertained that in the province of Carolina there were thirty thousand negroes, all of them slaves, working six days in the week for their owners without pay, and allowed to work on the Sundays for themselves. Near Savannah, they found a beautiful garden of ten acres, already planted with thriving orange-trees, olives, mulberries, figs, peaches, cabbages, peas, and pulse. The spot which they had chosen as their settlement, and to which they gave the name of Ebenezer, was surrounded by vast forests of cedars, walnuts, cypresses, and oaks, with wild vines running to the top of the highest trees. As to game, there were eagles, turkeys, roebucks, goats, deer, wild cows, horses, hares, partridges, and buffaloes without number. The Saltzburghers built tents made of the bark of trees, constructed roads and bridges, set up religious services, were furnished[Pg 114] with domestic utensils and with cattle, and were soon a prosperous community.

In April Oglethorpe returned to England, bringing with him Tomo-chichi and other Indians, to invigorate the confidence of England in the destiny of Georgia. Parliament continued its benefactions, the king expressed interest in a province which bore his name, and the youngest child of England’s colonial enterprise won universal favour.

The next company of emigrants were a number of Scotch Highlanders, who founded New Inverness, in Darien; the next a number of Moravians, of whom more anon; and the next after that, the company with whom Wesley sailed. Wesley’s predecessor in Georgia was the Rev. Samuel Quincy,[144] a native of Massachusetts, but educated in England. Mr. Quincy wishing to return to England, the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts sent Wesley as his successor, at a salary of £50 a year.[145] The chief object in founding the colony was to grow flax and hemp, to breed silkworms, and to raise raw silk.[146] The common seal of the corporation had on one side a group of silkworms at their toils, with the motto, Non sibi, sed aliis; and on the other, two figures reposing on urns, emblematic of the boundary rivers; and between them the genius of “Georgia Augusta,” with the cap of liberty on her head, a spear in one hand, and the horn of plenty in the other. It must be added that in this young community ardent spirits were prohibited, and the introduction of slavery forbidden.

The Transatlantic colonies existing in 1735 were nothing more than a mere fringe skirting the eastern coast of that vast continent. The Spaniards were in Florida; the English in Georgia, the Carolinas, Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, and New England; and the French in Canada. This was all. Excepting these few feeble colonial settlements, the whole of the immense American continent—which, measuring from New York to California, and from Lake Superior to New Orleans, extends in one direction 3300 miles and in the other 1300 miles—was one vast, rich, but uncultivated wilderness, the home of myriads of birds and beasts, and sparsely inhabited[Pg 115] by savage Indians. Bancroft enumerates above forty Indian tribes, or nations, embracing about 180,000 souls, whose wigwams and hunting grounds were all situated on the eastern side of the Mississippi. The men were warriors, and the women labourers. Their education was acquired solely in the school of nature, and their chief almanac was the flight of birds, announcing the progress of the seasons. They kept no herds, and were never shepherds, but depended for their food on the chase, the fisheries, and a little farming. Their scanty clothing was made of skins, and their feet protected by soft mocassins. Their principal ornaments were strings of shells, the fairest feathers of the turkey, the skin of the rattlesnake, and an enemy’s scalp. Their skins were oft tattooed; and, when making visits, they painted themselves gloriously, delighting especially in vermilion. They worshipped an unseen power pervading everything, which they called the Great Spirit, and had their sorcerers, medicine men, and prophets. Faith in the spirit world, as revealed by dreams, was universal; and festivals in honour of the dead were frequent.

What became of these Indians? and where are their descendants? To answer these questions would be to pass through scenes of horror without a parallel, and to write a history of blood.

Such was America in 1735. What is it now, and what is likely to be its future? Who could have imagined that, in one hundred and thirty years, this huge wilderness would be transformed into one of the greatest nations upon earth; and that the Methodism, begun at Savannah, would pervade the continent, and, ecclesiastically considered, become the mightiest power existing? But we must now return to Wesley and his Georgian mission.

In a letter, dated October 10, 1735, Wesley gives his reasons for going to Georgia. He writes:—

Exception may fairly be taken to some of the sentiments contained in this letter. The Indians were not the docile children that Wesley imagined; nor is it true that life in heathendom is more favourable to the attainment of holiness than life in Christendom: but we neither have space nor wish to criticise Wesley’s views, our chief object being to represent him as he represents himself.

Wesley went on board the Simmonds, off Gravesend, on October 14, 1735; and, the day following, he wrote a characteristic letter, (probably his last before leaving the English waters,) to his brother Samuel, who was now head master of the school at Tiverton. After telling him that, two days before, he had presented to the queen his father’s “Dissertations on the Book of Job,” and had received “many good words and smiles,” he continues:—

[Pg 117]

Two days after writing the above, Wesley, in order to converse with his German fellow-passengers, began to study that language; and three days later, believing that self-denial might be helpful to his piety, he wholly left off the use of flesh and wine, and confined himself to a vegetable diet, chiefly rice and biscuit. This he continued during the whole of his residence in Georgia; but on his return to England, for the sake of some who thought he made it a point of conscience, he resumed his former mode of living, and practised it to the end of life, except during a two years’ interim, when he again became vegetarian and teetotaler, because Dr. Cheyne assured him that this was the only way to “be free from fevers.”[149]

Wesley is on board—who are the chief of his fellow voyagers? His brother Charles, Benjamin Ingham, James Edward Oglethorpe, Charles Delamotte, and David Nitschmann. Two others had intended going, namely, Westley Hall and Matthew Salmon; and both had been recently ordained with reference to the Georgian mission. At the last moment, however, Salmon’s friends pounced upon him, and sent him, almost forcibly, to his parental home in Cheshire; while Hall, who had actually hired a coach to carry him and his wife (Wesley’s sister) to Gravesend, where the ship was lying,[Pg 118] received, as he was about to start, the intelligence that his family were not only opposed to his embarking, but had procured him a Church benefice. This so changed his missionary views and feelings, that he instantly countermanded the order for the coach, put aside all his luggage and preparations for the mission, and, hastening to General Oglethorpe, told him he had resolved not to go.[150]

Of Charles Wesley nothing need be said; his fame is everywhere. Benjamin Ingham was a young Yorkshireman, twenty-three years of age, and, for the last three months, had been preaching in the villages surrounding the metropolis with singular success. “Fast, and pray,” wrote Wesley at the beginning of September: “fast and pray; and then send me word whether you dare go with me to the Indians.” Ingham at first thought there were heathens enough at home; but, a fortnight after, he acceded to Wesley’s proposal; and, with as pure and devoted a heart as ever throbbed in missionary’s bosom, away he went to convert the Indians in America.

Oglethorpe has been already mentioned. Suffice it to add, that though chivalrous in the highest degree, and the very soul of benevolence and honour,—though brave and loyal, and full of enthusiastic feeling,—he was irascible and sometimes rash, talkative, tinged with vanity, and somewhat boastful. Like many other public men, he became the victim of unmerited censure and injudicious praise. The last thirty years of his life were chiefly spent in the society of literary and learned men. He died in 1785; and Hannah More, in a letter dated a year before his death, spoke of him thus: “He is much above ninety years old, and the finest figure you ever saw. He perfectly realises all my ideas of Nestor. His literature is great, his knowledge of the world extensive, and his faculties as bright as ever. He is quite a preux chevalier, heroic, romantic, and full of the old gallantry.”

Charles Delamotte was a young man of twenty-one, the son of a Middlesex magistrate; and was so attached to Wesley, that when he heard he was about to embark for Georgia he determined to go with him, and to act as his servant. His[Pg 119] father, naturally enough, strongly objected, and offered to settle him in a handsome business; but the youth was obstinate, and after obtaining a partial consent from his parents and family, set sail with Wesley, lived with him, served under him as a son in the gospel, did much good, and endured great hardships for the sake of Christ. On his return to England, he became a Moravian, settled at Barrow-upon-Humber, where he spent a long life of piety and peace, and died in 1796.[151]

David Nitschmann was born in Moravia, and was now in the sixtieth year of his age. In 1720 a remarkable revival of religion took place in the town where David lived; but, by the intervention of the Jesuits, the meetings of the new converts were prohibited, and many who attended them were imprisoned in stables, cellars, and other offensive places. A police officer entered Nitschmann’s house, where one hundred and fifty of these godly people were assembled, and seized all the books within his reach. The congregation at once struck up a stanza of one of Luther’s hymns:—

Twenty persons, including David, all heads of respectable families, were arrested and sent to gaol. For three days David was deprived of food, and was so cruelly ironed that the blood spurted from his nose and mouth, and oozed from his very pores. After some time, he escaped from his horrid dungeon, and fled for safety to his Moravian friends at Herrnhut. David was now a Moravian bishop, and, accompanied by about thirty Moravians, was on his way to visit the congregations of the Brethren in Georgia.

Such were the chief of Wesley’s fellow voyagers. As already stated, they embarked at Gravesend on October 14, 1735; but it was not until December 10 that they fairly started.[152] First of all, they encountered a storm in the Downs;[Pg 120] then, on arriving at Cowes, they had to await the man-of-war that was to be their convoy.

The rules which Wesley and his friends observed during their long voyage were as follows:—From four in the morning till five, they employed in private prayer. From five to seven, they read the Bible together, carefully comparing what they read with the writings of the earliest ages. At seven, they breakfasted. At eight, they had public prayers and expounded the lesson. From nine to twelve, Wesley usually learned German, Delamotte studied Greek and navigation, Charles Wesley wrote sermons, and Ingham gave instruction to the twelve children on board. At twelve, they met together for mutual prayer, and to report progress. About one, they dined; and from the time of dinner till four in the afternoon, they read or spoke to certain of the passengers of whom they had respectively taken charge. At four, they had evening prayers, and either expounded the lesson, or catechized and instructed the children in the presence of the congregation. From five to six was again spent in private prayer. From six to seven they read, each in his own cabin, to three different detachments of the English passengers, of whom about eighty were on board. At seven, Wesley joined the Moravians in their public service; while Ingham read, between the decks, to as many as desired to hear. At eight, the four faithful friends met in private to exhort and instruct each other; and, between nine and ten, they went to bed without mats and blankets, where neither the roaring of the sea nor the rocking of the ship could rob them of refreshing rest.[153]

While detained at Cowes, Wesley, after careful instruction, baptized four unbaptized Quakers.[154] Charles Wesley, being known to the minister of the town, preached several times in the parish church to large congregations; and, in the house of a poor woman, read to the crowds which flocked to hear him. In other respects also their detention was productive of good;[Pg 121] for a gentleman who scoffed at religion left the ship; the second mate, who was an insolent and ill natured fellow, was expelled; and a young man was received on board, who, for his piety, had been turned adrift by his rich parents, and had been praying incessantly that he might be directed to a place where he could have the advantage of public prayers and the holy sacrament.

On November 3, while walking in the Isle of Wight, the four friends agreed upon the following resolutions, which they solemnly subscribed:—

Of the Moravians on board, Ingham, in a long letter to his mother, wrote as follows:—“They are a good, devout, peaceable, and heavenly-minded people; and almost the only time you know they are in the ship is when they are harmoniously singing the praises of the great Creator, which they constantly do twice a day. Their example was very edifying. They are more like the primitive Christians than any church now existing, for they retain both the faith, practice, and discipline delivered by the apostles. They have regularly ordained bishops, priests, and deacons. Baptisms, confirmation, and the eucharist are duly administered. Discipline is strictly exercised, without respect of persons. They all submit themselves to their pastors in everything. They live together in perfect love and peace, having for the present all things common. They are more ready to serve their[Pg 122] neighbours than themselves. In business they are diligent, in all their dealings strictly just; and in everything they behave themselves with meekness, sweetness, and humility.”

From the same letter we learn that, on October 18, Wesley and Ingham began to read the Old Testament together; and, at the rate of between nine and ten chapters daily, finished it before they arrived at Georgia. On the day following, Wesley commenced preaching without notes; and during the passage, in a series of sermons, he went through the whole of our Saviour’s sermon on the mount, and, every sabbath, had a weekly sacrament.

The voyage, from Cowes to the Savannah river, was made in fifty-seven days. Oglethorpe seems to have acted with great kindness. On one occasion, when some of the officers and gentlemen on board took liberties with Wesley and his friends, Oglethorpe indignantly exclaimed, “What mean you, sirs? Do you take these gentlemen for tithe-pig parsons? They are gentlemen of learning and respectability. They are my friends, and whoever offers an affront to them insults me.”[156] This was quite enough, and, ever after, the poor Methodists were treated with respect. Oglethorpe was irritable, but noble-hearted and generous. Wesley, hearing an unusual noise in the general’s cabin, entered to inquire the cause; on which the angry soldier cried: “Excuse me, Mr. Wesley; I have met with a provocation too great to bear. This villain, Grimaldi, an Italian servant, has drunk nearly the whole of my Cyprus wine, the only wine that agrees with me, and several dozens of which I had provided for myself. But I am determined to be revenged. The rascal shall be tied hand and foot, and be carried to the man-of-war; for I never forgive.” “Then,” said Wesley with great calmness, “then I hope, sir, you never sin.” Oglethorpe was confounded, his vengeance was gone, he put his hand into his pocket, pulled out a bunch of keys, and threw them at Grimaldi, saying, “There, villain! take my keys, and behave better for the future.”[157]

The voyage to Georgia was not without danger. On the 17th of January, the sea broke over the ship, and, shaking[Pg 123] it from stem to stern, brought down the mainyard upon the decks, and dashed through the cabin windows. Six days after, an immense wave vaulted over Wesley’s head, and drenched him to the skin. Two days later, the winds roared, and the ship rocked to and fro with the utmost violence. The sea sparkled and smoked as if on fire, and the air literally blazed with lightning. The mainsail was torn to tatters, and the companion swept away.[158] Just at the time this occurred, the Moravians were engaged in their evening service, and were singing a psalm of praise. As usual, Wesley was with them. The English passengers began screaming; but the Germans calmly continued singing. Wesley was struck with this, and asked one of them, after the service was concluded, “Were you not afraid?” He answered, “I thank God, no.” Wesley asked again, “But were not your women and children afraid?” “No,” replied the Moravian, “our women and children are not afraid to die.” From the Moravians Wesley went among the terror-struck English, and pointed out the difference between him that feareth God and him that feareth Him not; and then concludes his account of the storm by saying, “This was the most glorious day which I had ever seen.” Eleven days after, on February 5, 1736, they safely cast anchor in the Savannah river, and were welcomed by the firing of cannon, and by all the freeholders, constables, and tithingmen, presenting arms; while Oglethorpe’s first act was to give orders to provide materials to build a church.[159]

Savannah was now a town of about forty houses,[160] standing on a flat bluff, rising forty or fifty feet above the crescent river flowing at its base. On the eastern side of the town was a swamp, on the west a wood, and on the south a forest of pines, fourteen miles in length. The principal buildings were a courthouse, which served also for a church, a log-built prison, a storehouse, a public mill for grinding corn, and a residence for the trustees’ steward. All the houses were of the same size. There were still standing the four beautiful pines, under which Oglethorpe encamped when he landed with the first[Pg 124] settlers, and which for nearly a twelvemonth he used as a sleeping place. At the distance of about half a mile was a small Indian town, in which large numbers of the Creek nation were occasionally accustomed to assemble. The climate was exceedingly salubrious, the land rich, and the water good.[161] Every male emigrant was allowed a watch coat, a musket, a bayonet, a hatchet, a hammer, a hand saw, a shovel, a hoe, a gimlet, a knife, an iron pot, a pair of pothooks, and a frying-pan: also for his maintenance, during the first year, 312 lbs. of beef or pork, 104 of rice, 104 of Indian corn or peas, 104 of meal, one pint of strong beer per day, 52 quarts of molasses, 16 lbs. of cheese, 12 of butter, eight oz. of spice, 12 lbs. of sugar, four gallons of vinegar, 24 lbs. of salt, 12 quarts of lamp oil, one lb. of cotton thread, and 12 lbs of soap. Proportionate allowances were made to women and children.[162] Such facts will help the reader to imagine the kind of home and society which Wesley had in Georgia.

The only other towns in Georgia, even when Wesley came back to England, were Frederica, in St. Simon’s Island, one hundred miles south of Savannah; Darien, the settlement of the Scotch Highlanders, at a distance of about eighty miles; New Ebenezer, consisting of sixty huts, nineteen miles; Highgate and Hampstead, with fourteen families, four or five miles southwest, and Thunderbolt, with three families, six miles southeast. Such were the English settlements in Georgia. All the rest of that large territory was woods, swamps, and prairies, the home of savage Indians, and of savage beasts. The Georgian Indians had no literature, no religion, and no civil government. Every one did what was right in his own eyes; and, if his neighbour felt aggrieved, he would warily do his best to shoot him, scalp him, or cut off his ears. All of them, except perhaps the Choctaws, were gluttons, drunkards, thieves, and liars; implacable, unmerciful, murderers of fathers, murderers of mothers, murderers of their own children. Husbands, strictly speaking, the women had none, for the men left their so called wives at pleasure; and the wives, in return for such desertion, would cut the throats of all the children[Pg 125] they had had by their faithless swains. The Choctaws possessed a large extent of land, eight or nine hundred miles west of Savannah, had many well inhabited towns, and six thousand warriors. The Chicasaws, dwelling among meadows, springs, and rivers, six or seven hundred miles in the interior, had ten towns, and about nine hundred fighting men,—all of them eating, drinking, and smoking almost day and night, extremely indolent except in war, and torturing and burning their prisoners with the most fiendish cruelty. The Cherokees lived in a mountainous, fruitful, and pleasant country, three or four hundred miles from Savannah, had fifty-two towns, and above three thousand men of war. The Uchees had only one small town, near two hundred miles distant from the Savannah settlement, and were hated by most and despised by all the other Indian tribes, for their cowardice and superlative diligence in thieving. The Creeks were located at a distance of about four hundred miles, had a well watered country, and fifteen hundred fighting men, and, of all the Indians, were the most infected with the insatiate love of drink, as well as other European vices. In such a country John Wesley lived, from February 5, 1736, to December 2, 1737.

One of the first to meet Wesley on the shores of Georgia was the well known Moravian elder, August Gottlieb Spangenberg. Wesley asked his advice how to act in his new sphere of labour. Spangenberg replied, “My brother, I must first ask you one or two questions. Have you the witness within yourself? Does the Spirit of God bear witness with your spirit, that you are a child of God?” Wesley was surprised at such questions. They were new to him. He was at a loss how to answer. Spangenberg continued, “Do you know Jesus Christ?” This was easier, and Wesley answered, “I know He is the Saviour of the world.” “True,” said Spangenberg; “but do you know He has saved you?” Wesley was again perplexed, but answered, “I hope He has died to save me.” Spangenberg only added, “Do you know yourself?” Wesley replied, “I do.” An odd conversation, leaving Spangenberg in doubt respecting the real conversion of the Oxford priest, and leading Wesley to think of doctrines which took him more than the next two years to understand.

Nine days after his arrival, Wesley and his friends were[Pg 126] visited by Tomo-Chichi (whom Oglethorpe had brought to England some time before) and half-a-dozen other Indians. Informed of their arrival, the young clergymen met them in their gowns and cassocks. The chief bid them welcome, said he would assemble the great men of his nation, and expressed a wish that they would teach his children; while his wife gave them a jar of milk, as emblematic of her wish that they might feed the Indians with milk, for they were but children, and a jar of honey, with the hope that the missionaries would be sweet to them.[163]

Ingham and Charles Wesley went off with Oglethorpe to lay out the town of Frederica; and Wesley and Delamotte, having no house of their own to live in, lodged, during the first month, with Spangenberg, Nitschmann, and other Moravian friends. Thus, from morning to night, were they mixed up with these godly people, and had ample opportunity to observe their spirit and behaviour. Wesley writes: “They were always employed, always cheerful themselves, and in good humour with one another; they had put away all anger, and strife, and wrath, and bitterness, and clamour, and evil speaking; they walked worthy of the vocation wherewith they were called, and adorned the gospel of our Lord in all things.” Wesley was present at the election and ordination of Anton Seifart[164] as a bishop for Georgia, the simplicity and solemnity of the service making him almost forget the seventeen hundred years between, and imagine himself in one of those assemblies where form and state were not, but Paul the tentmaker or Peter the fisherman presided, with the demonstration of the Spirit and of power. Who can estimate the influence of such intercourse in moulding the subsequent character and life of this inquiring missionary?

Mr. Quincy, Wesley’s predecessor, having now removed to Carolina, Wesley took possession of the wood-built rectory, and, on March 7th, commenced his ministry at Savannah by preaching a sermon from 1 Corinthians xiii. 3, in which he introduced two death-bed scenes,—that of his father at Epworth, and another which he had witnessed at Savannah, and which was “a spectacle worthy to be seen of God and[Pg 127] angels and men.”[165] He officiated at nine in the morning, at twelve, and again in the afternoon;[166] and announced his design to administer the sacrament on every Sunday and on every holiday.

A few days subsequent to this, writing to his mother, he remarked:—“We are likely to stay here some months. The place is pleasant beyond imagination, and exceeding healthful. I have not had a moment’s illness of any kind since I set my foot upon the continent; nor do I know any more than one of my seven hundred parishioners who is sick at this time. Many of them indeed are, I believe, very angry already; for a gentleman, no longer ago than last night (March 17), made a ball; but the public prayers happening to begin about the same time, the church was full, and the ballroom so empty that the entertainment could not go forward. I should be heartily glad if any poor and religious men or women of Epworth or Wroote would come over to me. General Oglethorpe would give them land enough, and provisions gratis, till they could live on the produce of it.”[167]

Wesley, in this letter, evidently considers the whole of the Georgian settlements as his parish; for, so far from Savannah having at this time a population of seven hundred souls, there was scarcely that number in the whole of the settlements put together. Georgia was his parish; for, Mr. Quincy being gone, he was the only minister of the Church of England inducted into ministerial work in the Georgian territory. Charles Wesley was Oglethorpe’s secretary; and though Benjamin Ingham had gone with a few colonists to where Frederica was to stand, Frederica itself as yet did not exist. Besides, Ingham’s visit was intended to be but temporary, his mind being fully fixed upon a mission to the Indians. Indeed, this was Wesley’s purpose also. Their only object in quitting England was, not to preach to the colonists, but to the Indians; and the reason why Wesley had begun to preach to the English at Savannah was because Mr. Quincy, the minister of the English, had left the colony, and they were now as sheep without a shepherd; and also because, through the French on[Pg 128] the one hand and the Spaniards on the other, the Indians were at present in great confusion, and had become so excited by French and Spanish plots and treachery that it was not only dangerous to go among them, but, as Tomo-Chichi told Wesley and his friends at the interview already mentioned, they seemed determined not to hear “the great word” which the white man had to teach.[168] In these two facts we find the reason, and the only reason, why Wesley’s object in going to Georgia was not fulfilled; and why, instead of preaching to the Indians in the woods, he spent his time in preaching to the English at Savannah.

The commencement of Wesley’s ministry was auspicious. A fortnight after preaching his first sermon, he wrote to his brother Charles as follows: “I have hitherto no opposition at all; all is smooth, and fair, and promising. Many seem to be awakened; all are full of respect and commendation. We cannot see any cloud gathering. But this calm cannot last: storms must come hither, too; and let them come, when we are ready to meet them.”[169]

Wesley had lived so long in the tempest of opposition that it is no wonder he felt it strange to find himself in the midst of an unbroken calm, surrounded by nothing but “respect and commendation.” This was a new experience, but it was soon ended.

Charles Wesley and Ingham were already in hot water at Frederica, and the latter hurried off to Savannah for advice. It was only three weeks since Wesley had there commenced his ministry; yet he had already established daily morning and evening public prayers, and a weekly communion; he had also formed a society, which met on Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday nights, to read and pray and sing psalms together; and Delamotte had begun to teach a few orphan children.[170] This was a vigorous beginning, but now Wesley and Delamotte had to hasten to Frederica, leaving Ingham to supply their place in the best way he could.

Charles had been baptizing children by trine immersion, and endeavouring to reconcile scolding women. Some of these[Pg 129] termagants had prejudiced Oglethorpe against him, and the poor secretary was now treated with coldness, and even charged with mutiny. A woman, whose husband had been put into confinement, blamed him for being the cause of it, and threatened to be revenged upon him, by “exposing his d—— d hypocrisy and his prayers four times a day by beat of drum.”[171] While all the others were provided with boards to sleep upon, he was left to sleep upon the ground. His few well-wishers became afraid to speak to him, and even his washerwoman refused in future to wash his linen.

Wesley and Delamotte left Savannah on April 4, and returned on April 20; having spent ten days on the voyage, and six in settling the miserable squabbles that had sprung up among the palmetto huts of Frederica.

On the day of his arrival, Wesley wrote to Oglethorpe as follows:—

Wesley then refers to the accusation against his brother, to the effect that, by the frequency of his public prayers, he prevented the men attending to their proper work, and interrupted the progress of the town and colony. He shows the absurdity of this, by stating that, both at Frederica and Savannah, not more than seven minutes were spent in reading the public morning and evening prayers. Fourteen minutes daily, in two public services, could hardly be considered an unreasonable taxation of the people’s time. Wesley writes: “These cannot be termed long prayers: no Christian assembly ever used shorter.” And then he naively informs[Pg 130] Oglethorpe that these short prayers had no repetitions in them! We should think not![173]

Within a month after his return to Savannah, Wesley began to carry out his high church principles. He refused to baptize a child of Mr. Parker’s, second bailiff of the town, because the parents objected to its being dipped. On Sundays, he divided the public prayers, according to the original appointment of the Church; reading the morning service at five; the communion office and a sermon at eleven; and the evening service at three. He also commenced visiting his parishioners in order, from house to house, setting apart for this purpose three hours every day.

He had no sooner begun, however, than his brother, wearied with his life at Frederica, and full of abhorrence at the false-heartedness of the people,[174] unexpectedly presented himself at Savannah. Places were exchanged, and John and Delamotte instantly started off to the forsaken flock. They arrived at Frederica on May 22nd, and remained until June 23rd. During this brief visit, Wesley read the commendatory prayer over Mrs. Germain, at the point of death; made Mr. Lassel’s will; arranged a small society-meeting, like that which had been organised at Savannah; and reproved an officer of a man-of-war for swearing. One of his congregation said to him: “I like nothing you do; all your sermons are satires upon particular persons. Besides, we are Protestants: but as for you, we cannot tell what religion you are of. We never heard of such a religion before; we know not what to make of it. And then your private behaviour: all the quarrels that have been here since your arrival have been because of you; and there is neither man nor woman in the town who minds a word you say.” The next day Wesley returned to Savannah.

He was no sooner back than a large party of Indians came, including several chiefs and an interpreter, with whom he had several interviews. He now hoped that a door was opened for the fulfilment of his intention to be a missionary among the heathen; but when he informed Oglethorpe of his[Pg 131] purpose, the general objected, on the ground that there was great danger of his being taken or killed by the French, and that it was inexpedient to leave Savannah without a minister. Wesley answered that, though the trustees of Georgia had appointed him to the office of minister of Savannah, this was done without his solicitation, desire, or knowledge; and that he should not continue longer than until his way was opened to go among the Indians. And so the matter ended.

On the 26th of July, after spending a little more than five months in Georgia, his brother Charles embarked for England. At the same time, Wesley went again to ill-natured Frederica, where he spent the next twelve weeks. Here he read, with Delamotte, Bishop Beveridge’s “Pandectæ Canonum Conciliorum,” and became more convinced than ever that both particular and general councils may err. He set up a small library; and as several Germans, through not understanding the English tongue, were unable to join in the public service, he agreed to meet them every day at noon, in his own house, where, in their own language, he expounded to them a chapter of the New Testament, and prayed with them. Finding, however, that his prospects of doing good at Frederica became less and less, he returned to Savannah on the 31st of October, where he continued until the beginning of 1737.

Meanwhile, Wesley’s friends in England did not forget him. The following was from his old acquaintance, Mr. Morgan, and is now for the first time given to the public.

Another unpublished letter lies before us, written by Sir John Thorold, and breathing a most Christian spirit. Omitting what is purely sentimental, we give the following extracts:—

The next was from James Hutton:—

At the same time, Hervey at Oxford wrote:—“I am still a most weak corrupt creature. But, blessed be the unmerited mercy of God, and thanks be to your never-to-be-forgotten example, that I am what I am! You have been both a father and a friend to me. I heartily thank you, as for all other favours, so especially for teaching me Hebrew.”[176]

William Chapman, a student of Pembroke College, wrote as follows:—“Your kind concern and repeated endeavours for my spiritual good, while at Oxford, will not suffer me to think that you have utterly lost all remembrance of me. I sit every evening with Mr. Hervey, that great champion of the Lord of hosts, and read five times a week to a religious society in St. Ebbs’ parish. God and the angels be with you!”[177]

Wesley, before leaving England, had begun to read the mystics, and on November 23, 1736, addressed a long letter to his brother Samuel, showing that, though he had been in danger of embracing their bewildering heresies, he had now abandoned them. He writes:—

Such was the mystified balderdash which Wesley had been in danger of adopting. He concludes his letter thus:—

At the end of the year 1736, Wesley and Delamotte set out, on foot, to Cowpen, missed their way, walked through a cypress swamp, with the water breast high, and slept on the ground in their wet clothes, which during the night were frozen, and in the morning were white as snow. They then started for Frederica, fell short of provisions, used bear’s flesh, and proved it to be wholesome. Arriving on January 5, 1737, they found the people, as they expected, cold and heartless. Wesley’s life was repeatedly threatened; and, after spending twenty more days in this unhappy place, he departed from Frederica for ever. In his passage to Savannah he read a volume containing the works of Nicholas Machiavel, and formed the deliberate opinion, “that if all the other doctrines of devils, which have been committed to writing, were collected together in one volume, it would fall short of this; and that should a prince form himself by this book, so calmly recommending hypocrisy, treachery, lying, robbery, oppression, adultery, whoredom, and murder of all kinds, Domitian or Nero would be an angel of light compared to that man.”

Wesley had now been fifty-two weeks in America, twenty-four of which he had spent at Savannah, and the rest at[Pg 135] Frederica and at other places between the two. He remained forty-six weeks longer. How was he occupied? And what were his troubles?

Delamotte was teaching between thirty and forty children at Savannah to read, write, and cast accounts, and Wesley catechized them every Saturday and Sunday afternoon. Every sabbath he had three public services, at five in the morning, twelve at mid-day, and three in the afternoon; and then at night as many of his parishioners as desired it met at his house, with whom he spent an hour in prayer, singing, and mutual exhortation. A similar meeting was held in the same place every Wednesday night, and selecter ones on all the other evenings of the week.

There being no immediate prospect of commencing a mission among the heathen, Wesley, Delamotte, and Ingham consulted together, and agreed that the last mentioned should return to England; and accordingly, after spending exactly fifty-five weeks in Georgia, he embarked for home, having literally done next to nothing either for the colonists or the Indians, with the exception of composing, in Dr. Byrom’s shorthand, a catalogue of half the words in the Indian language,[179] in a house built for him near the Indian town, a few miles from Savannah. The chief object of sending Ingham to England was to obtain more help for the colonists. In a letter dated February 16, 1737, and addressed to a friend in Lincoln College, Oxford, Wesley writes:—

Meanwhile, Oglethorpe’s troubles had begun. From a letter which Wesley wrote to him, on February 24, 1737, we learn that Sir Robert Walpole had turned against the general, and parliament had resolved to make a strict scrutiny into Georgian affairs. The trustees had charged Oglethorpe with misapplying moneys, and with abusing his entrusted power. Wesley adds: “Perhaps in some things you have shown you are but a man: perhaps I myself may have a little to complain of: but oh what a train of benefits have I received to lay in the balance against it! I bless God that ever you was born. I acknowledge His exceeding mercy in casting me into your hands. I own your generous kindness all the time we were at sea. I am indebted to you for a thousand favours here. Though all men should revile you, yet will not I.”[181]

Sinister rumours were circulated in reference to Wesley, as well as Oglethorpe. Hence the following hitherto unpublished letter, endorsed by Wesley thus:—“The Trustees’ Letter, June 17, 1737, fully acquitting me:”—

The following letter, also now first published, refers to the same subject, besides containing other information which we hope will be found not devoid of interest. It was addressed to “The Rev. Mr. John Wesley, at Savannah, in Georgia:”—

Wesley’s ideas of religion, at this period, may be gathered from the following extracts from a letter, dated “Savannah, March 28, 1737,” and addressed to “William Wogan, Esq., in Spring Gardens, London.”[182]

Again, in another letter, written to Mrs. Chapman a day later, he says:—

These are important letters, as tending to refute the commonly received opinion, that, at this period of his history, Wesley was morose, sour, gloomy, and in fact thought that cheerfulness was inconsistent with religion. His views and some of his practices might seem to many to be peculiar; but he was a cheerful and happy man, even amid the vigils, fastings, and solitudes of Georgia. Some of his views were novel, but they were not incompatible with happiness. He writes: “When I first landed at Savannah, a gentlewoman said, ‘I assure you, sir, you will see as well dressed a congregation on Sunday as most you have seen in London.’ I did so; and soon after I took occasion to expound those scriptures which relate to dress; and all the time that I afterward ministered at Savannah, I saw neither gold in the church, nor costly apparel, but the congregation in general was almost constantly clothed in plain clean linen or woollen.”[184] This wears an aspect of anchorite severity, but still Wesley and his plain-robed followers were happy.

In April, 1737, Wesley began to learn the Spanish language, in order to converse with his Jewish parishioners. Easter being in the same month, he “had every day in this great and holy week a sermon and the holy communion.” Finding that a clergyman in Carolina had been marrying some of his (Wesley’s) parishioners, without either banns or licence, he set out for Charlestown to put a stop to such proceedings. Mr. Garden, the Bishop of London’s commissary, assured him[Pg 140] he would take care no such irregularity should be committed for the future. At Garden’s request, Wesley preached a sermon on, “whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world”; which led a man of education and character to object—“Why if this be Christianity, a Christian must have more courage than Alexander the Great.”

Returning to Savannah, in the month of May, Wesley found one of his congregation, who had been exemplarily religious, turned a deist; and expressed the opinion that bad a religion as Popery is, no religion is worse; and that a baptized infidel is twofold worse than even a bigoted papist. This was only one of Wesley’s trials. A wicked woman, whom he had offended, decoyed him into her house, threw him down, and, with her scissors, cut off from one side of his head the whole of those long locks of auburn hair, which he had been accustomed to keep in the most perfect order. After this, he preached at Savannah with his hair long on one side and short on the other, those sitting on the side which had been cut observing, “What a cropped head of hair the young parson has.”[185]

At Whitsuntide, four of his scholars, after being instructed daily for several weeks, were admitted to the Lord’s table, and many of the other children evinced a remarkable seriousness in their behaviour and conversation. This was doubtless a cause of great joy both to Wesley and his friend Delamotte, each of whom taught a school, and, like all schoolmasters, met with discouragements. A part of the boys in Delamotte’s school wore stockings and shoes, and the others not. The former ridiculed the latter. Delamotte tried to put a stop to this uncourteous banter, but told Wesley he had failed. Wesley replied, “I think I can cure it. If you will take charge of my school next week I will take charge of yours, and will try.” The exchange was made, and on Monday morning Wesley went into school barefoot. The children seemed surprised, but without any reference to past jeerings Wesley kept them at their work. Before the week was ended, the shoeless ones began to gather courage; and some of the others, seeing their minister and master come without shoes[Pg 141] and stockings, began to copy his example, and thus the evil was effectually cured.”[186]

In the early summer of 1737, Whitefield wrote to Wesley, telling him of his success in England. A young country lad had brought him a peck of apples seven miles upon his back, as a token of gratitude for the benefit he had derived from Whitefield’s ministry, and had such a sense of the Divine presence that he walked, for the most part, with his hat off his head. God was also moving on the hearts of some young ladies. Whitefield continues:—

Whitefield’s dream about being made a bishop is amusing; and yet Providence and grace made him greater than a bishop.

Wesley still felt intensely anxious respecting the heathen. In July he met a Frenchman, who had lived several months among the Chicasaws, and wrote to Dr. Humphreys as follows:—[188]

Oh for missionaries like these! Wesley’s notions are right. Men going merely because others send them, or men going merely to obtain a livelihood, are not the men to convert the inhabitants of lands like Africa, India, Japan, and China. To make an impression there, men must be animated with the martyrs’ spirit. Church history, including the history of missions, affords abundant proof of this. Mere duty-doing ministers are bad enough in England, but they are vastly worse when among the heathen. Money spent upon them there is worse than wasted; for their cold perfunctory labours produce, upon the whole, a bad effect instead of good. The greatest boon the church could now receive from the hands of God would be a multiplication of ministers and missionaries like those which Wesley was sighing for in Georgia.

From Wesley’s private manuscript journal, we learn that in July, by going from house to house, he took a census of his parishioners, and computed that there were in Savannah 518 inhabitants, of whom 149 were under sixteen years of age. Frederica was without a minister, though three hundred acres of land had been granted by the trustees for a church establishment in that unhappy town.[189] Other places with scanty populations were equally destitute. New Ebenezer had the Moravians; and Darien had Mr. M’Leod, a serious, resolute, and pious Presbyterian: but this seems to have been all the ministerial agency existing in Georgia. Hence the following letter, addressed by Wesley to his friends at Oxford:—

While Wesley was thus longing for help, events were transpiring, by which he himself within three months was driven out of Georgia, and obliged to return to England. This was the closing scene in Wesley’s missionary life, and though a painful one it must not be shirked. All the facts in the writer’s possession shall be given, and the reader shall have materials to form his own opinion. The chief actors in the scene, besides Wesley himself, were Sophia Christiana Hopkey, Thomas Causton, and William Williamson.

Causton was one of the first company of emigrants, and landed in Georgia with Oglethorpe, in February, 1733. He was a man of no substance, and his character was not as good as it might have been. In fact, he left England in disgrace, having practised a fraud upon the public revenue. He was naturally proud, covetous, cunning, and deceitful. By his clever rascality he wriggled himself into Oglethorpe’s favour, and, on the arrival of the few emigrant gaol-birds in the Savannah river, was appointed a sort of dictator of the infant settlement, and had charge of the stores which the trustees sent[Pg 144] over for the use of the colonists. We have already seen that, even when Wesley left for England at the end of the year 1737, the inhabitants of Savannah were not more than 518 in number, of whom only 369 were adult males and females. This was no large kingdom; but Thomas Causton was a large man, because he was at the head of it. Indeed, the molehill empire seems to have magnified itself to the utmost extent possible, by the introduction of law, the establishment of courts, the appointment of officers, the election of juries, and the adoption of everything else within its power which was likely to make it a pompous minikin miniature of the great system of government at home. Causton was “chief magistrate,” and of course a “chief” had subordinates under him. There was a recorder, also a bailiff. There were constables, and tithingmen, and other great functionaries, all armed with solemn authority to rule, govern, and keep in order, first themselves, and then about five hundred men, women, and children, including John Wesley the Oxford priest, and Charles Delamotte the merchant master of almost a ragged school.

Of all the great powers, however, in this log-built village of five hundred souls, Thomas Causton, in his own estimation, and in fact, was greatest. The other Tom Thumb magistrates were ciphers in his august presence. Sometimes, indeed, he would ask their opinion in public on the state matters of the great city of Savannah; but it was principally to have the pleasure of uttering an opinion of his own, directly opposite to theirs. Juries he threatened without the least compunction, and especially when their verdicts disagreed with his inclinations. As his power increased, so did his pride, haughtiness, and cruelty. The court in which this fraudulent refugee—we beg his pardon, this “chief magistrate”—expounded law and dispensed justice, was guarded by eight freeholders, with an officer to direct their movements, all armed with guns and bayonets. Seated, in such high dignity, and so far above his fellows, upon the judicial bench, it was beneath his office to sit uncovered; and hence he almost invariably wore his hat, even when administering an[Pg 145] oath. Should any foolish wight be bold enough to oppose, in the least degree, his arbitrary proceedings, the “chief magistrate” at once threatened the impudent recusant with the stocks, the whipping-post, and a lodging in the log-house prison. Even his fellow officials were treated with scant respect. In December, 1734, the trustees sent a Mr. Gordon from England, to act as magistrate; but Causton, not liking a compeer, refused him provisions from the store, and he was obliged to leave. Indeed, Causton, who had sufficient cleverness to induce Oglethorpe, despite his roguery in England, to make him magistrate in Savannah, seems to have used the same worldly cunning in allowing none to be his subordinates except those whom he could, with the utmost ease, twist to his own purposes. Mr. Bailiff Parker, mentioned in Wesley’s journal, had nothing to support himself and his large family, except what he earned by his daily labour as a sawyer. He was a man of no education, and was an absolute slave to liquor. Another bailiff was a man of the name of Daru, nearly seventy years old, and crazed in both body and mind; and another was R. Gilbert, who could neither read nor write. Causton’s despotic career was of short duration. The same grand jury which found, under Causton’s guidance, ten bills against Wesley, immediately proceeded to examine the official doings of their own illustrious “chief magistrate;” and found charges against him, to the effect that he had grossly abused his power as keeper of the public stores, and that he had hindered people settling on the lands that the trustees had allotted them. These and other charges, dated September 1, 1737, were sent to England; and the result was—Causton, in October, 1738, was turned out of all his offices, and the store was sold to pay the trustees’ debts; Causton’s certified accounts were refused by the trustees as incorrect; William Williamson was made recorder, and Henry Parker (the drunken uneducated sawyer above mentioned) was made first magistrate; and, finally, Causton, the great man who prosecuted Wesley, and drove him from Georgia, settled down at Oxstead, three miles from Savannah; and there, we hope, he lived a more honest life than he had done in England.[191]

[Pg 146]

Sophia Christiana Hopkey was the niece of Thomas Causton’s wife. William Williamson, who became her husband, was a young adventurer, who arrived in Georgia a short time after Wesley did.[192] And now, with these explanations, let us look at the miserable business, which, in a life of Wesley, cannot be omitted.

Wesley landed in Georgia on February 5, 1736, and seems at once to have become acquainted with Miss Hopkey. Oglethorpe, Charles Wesley, Ingham, and fifty other settlers set out immediately for Frederica. The young lady went with them; and, on March 22, Wesley wrote to his brother concerning her as follows: “I conjure you, spare no time, no address or pains, to learn the true cause of the former distress of my friend. I much doubt you are in the right. God forbid that she should again, in like manner, miss the mark. Watch over her; keep her as much as possible. Write to me, how I ought to write to her.”[193]

Miss Hopkey was a young lady of good sense, and elegant in person and manners. She was introduced to Wesley as a sincere inquirer after salvation, and soon took every possible opportunity of being in his company, and requested him to assist her in studying French. Oglethorpe also did his best to help on a courtship. Meanwhile, Wesley was seized with fever, which confined him for nearly a week; and the young lady (who would hardly allow Delamotte to do anything for his friend) attended him night and day. She even consulted Oglethorpe what kind of female dress Wesley liked the best, and therefore came always dressed in white, neatly and simply elegant. Young Delamotte began to be suspicious, and asked Wesley if he meant to marry Miss Hopkey. Delamotte’s question puzzled Wesley, but, perceiving that Delamotte was prejudiced against the lady, he waived an answer. The next step taken was to consult David Nitschmann, the Moravian bishop. Nitschmann’s answer was: “Marriage is not unlawful; but whether it is now expedient for you, and whether this[Pg 147] lady is a proper wife for you, ought to be maturely weighed.” Wesley’s perplexity was increased, and he now resolved to submit the matter to the elders of the Moravian church. When he entered the house where they were met together, he found Delamotte in the midst of them. On naming his business, Nitschmann said: “We have considered your case; will you abide by our decision?” After some hesitation, Wesley replied, “I will.” “Then,” said Nitschmann, “we advise you to proceed no further in the matter!” Wesley answered, “The will of the Lord be done!” “From this time,” says Henry Moore, “he avoided everything that tended to continue the intimacy with Miss Hopkey, and behaved with the greatest caution towards her.”[194]

The whole of this is painfully ludicrous. Mr. Moore, in a manuscript letter before us, says that he had the account from Wesley’s own lips, and that he is not aware that it was ever given to any one except himself. He adds that Dr. Coke knew nothing of it, and that Wesley refrained from publishing the whole of the affair in his printed journal, chiefly through tenderness to General Oglethorpe. It might be so; but we greatly doubt the correctness of Moore’s assertion, that, from the time Wesley consulted the Moravian elders, he “avoided everything that tended to continue the intimacy.” Wesley was in love, and, like all lovers, he did, not wicked, but foolish things. Let us look at some other facts.

At this period, the summer of 1736, Wesley’s method of preaching, and his manner of life, excited great attention in the small settlement of Savannah; and there were not a few who charged him with making the people idle by summoning them so frequently to public prayers. His more than ordinary friendship with Miss Hopkey was also a subject of common conversation.[195] He was looked upon as a Roman Catholic—(1) Because he rigidly excluded all Dissenters from the holy communion, until they first gave up their faith and principles, and, like Richard Turner and his sons, submitted to be rebaptized by him; (2) Because Roman Catholics were received by him as saints; (3) Because he endeavoured to establish[Pg 148] and enforce confession, penance, and mortification; mixed wine with water at the sacrament; and appointed deaconesses in accordance with what he called the Apostolic Constitutions.[196] He was, in point of fact, a Puseyite, a hundred years before Dr. Pusey flourished.

Miss Hopkey was put under his ghostly care. She was one of his early morning congregation, and constantly went to his lodgings, in order to be further instructed.[197] He fell in love with her; and there can be little doubt that he made proposals to marry her, and, if his own inclinations had been carried out, the marriage would have been completed.[198] The following extracts are taken from his unpublished journal.

What is the meaning of this? Two other extracts from the same journal will show.

Such is Wesley’s own statement. The disappointment was a most painful blow. Forty-nine years after, he wrote, in reference to this event, “I remember when I read these words in the church at Savannah, ‘Son of man, behold, I take from thee the desire of thine eyes with a stroke,’ I was pierced through as with a sword, and could not utter a word more. But our comfort is, He that made the heart can heal the heart.”[199] He also wrote to his brother Samuel at the time, who replied, “I am sorry you are disappointed in the match, because you are very unlikely to find another.”[200]

With this evidence before us, it is difficult to give credence to Henry Moore’s assertion, “that Wesley never allowed himself to determine on a marriage with Miss Hopkey.”[201] But in addition to all this, there is the testimony of the young lady herself, contained in her affidavit, given to the Savannah court, and which Wesley inserts in the private journal already mentioned. In that document she avers that she was committed to the care of Mr. John Wesley, the missionary, by her relatives; that he proposed marriage to her; and that he further proposed that, as she might not like his present wandering way of life, he would settle in Savannah. She adds that, about three days before she married Williamson, she was visited by Wesley, who urged her to tell him whether she had not been overpersuaded or forced to agree to marry Williamson by her friends, and whether such a marriage might not still be prevented. He also added that, if there was anything in his way of life (by which she understood him to mean fastings and other mortifications), which she disliked, he would make all these things easy to her, in case she would consent to marry him.

[Pg 150]

Such is the substance of Sophy’s statement. How is it possible, in the face of all this, to believe Henry Moore’s statement, that there was no intimacy between Wesley and Miss Hopkey, from the time that he consulted the Moravian elders?

We grudge the space that has been devoted to this subject; but perhaps the following reasons will be accepted by the reader, as an apology for the tax upon his patience.

1. The matter, though trivial in itself, has been made important by the conflicting statements of the biographers. Mr. Moore says Wesley never came to the determination to marry her. Dr. Whitehead says he did intend to marry her. Southey agrees with Whitehead; Mr. Watson presumes that Mr. Moore is a better authority than Dr. Whitehead; Mr. Jackson seems to think the same. We have given all the facts within our reach, and leave the reader to form his own opinion.

2. Though the courtship of young people is an ordinary, commonplace sort of thing, inconceivably great events were dependent upon the result of this. John Wesley was thirty-three years old, and was perfectly justified in seeking to obtain a wife; neither is there anything to be found fault with in his intercourse with Miss Hopkey, unless it was his silly simplicity in asking the opinion, if not consent, of the Moravians. The young lady, also, was beautiful, and accomplished, and, to all human appearance, pious. Her uncle was a respectable rascal; but that was no fault of hers. We know nothing to her prejudice before she became a wife, except that it might have been more decorously prudent if she had allowed Delamotte to nurse Wesley in his fever instead of doing it, day and night, herself; and that there was certainly an impetuous haste, not to be commended, in her marrying Mr. Williamson only four days after he first proposed to her. Excepting this, the friendship, courtship, or whatever else the reader likes to call it, between Wesley and his “poor Sophy” seems to have been sincere, pure, honourable, and, in the opinion of Oglethorpe, who was not ill qualified to judge, desirable. But, supposing the courtship had ended in marriage, is it likely that we should ever have heard of Wesley at Bristol, Kingswood, Kennington Common, and Moorfields? Is it likely[Pg 151] that there would ever have been any “United Societies of the People called Methodists”? Should we have ever heard of either the Methodism of the past or present? Perhaps an equally great work might have been witnessed; but the great Head of the church must have wrought it by other agencies and means; for had John Wesley married Sophia Christiana Hopkey, the probability is that, instead of returning to England and beginning the greatest religious revival of modern times, he would have settled in Georgia, and, like another Xavier, have spent a most spiritual and devoted life in converting Indian and other kinds of heathen. The results of such a life might have been glorious. Who can tell what might have been its influence upon the civilisation and perpetuation of the nobly formed aboriginal inhabitants of the vast American continent? Would America, in the decline of the nineteenth century, have been inhabited by European strangers, or by educated, civilised, hardworking, prosperous descendants of the wild Indians of the woods? These are useless questions, because questions none of us can answer; but the mere suggestion of such points will serve to show that Wesley’s courtship in Georgia was pregnant with infinite momentousness. “The Lord reigneth; let the earth rejoice; let the multitude of isles be glad: clouds and darkness are round about Him; righteousness and judgment are the habitation of His throne” (Ps. xcvii. 1, 2).

3. Then a third reason, for dwelling at so great a length on Wesley’s courtship, is, that the courtship was very improperly mixed up with the subsequent troubles which led to his almost forceful departure from the Georgian colony. But this brings us to the remainder of Wesley’s Georgian history, which shall now be given as succinctly as possible.

We have already seen that Wesley was an extreme ritualist. He himself, nearly a dozen years subsequent to his flight from Georgia, gives us a specimen of his high church bigotry and intolerance. Having inserted in his journal a beautiful letter written to him by John Martin Bolzius, he, under the date of September, 1749, remarks: “What a truly Christian piety and simplicity breathe in these lines! And yet this very man, when I was at Savannah, did I refuse to admit to the Lord’s table, because he was not baptized;[Pg 152] that is, not baptized by a minister who had been episcopally ordained. Can any one carry high church zeal higher than this? How well have I been since beaten with mine own staff!”[202]

Wesley still paid pastoral attentions to Mrs. Williamson as one of his parishioners. Her not too accomplished husband took umbrage at this, and, eight days after her marriage, forbade her attending his place of worship, or ever to speak to him again.[203] Notwithstanding this interdict, however, we find her on the 3rd of July at a sacramental service, at the conclusion of which Wesley mentioned certain things which he thought reprovable in her behaviour. This made her extremely angry, and, three days later, Causton, accompanied by the bailiff and the recorder, came to demand an explanation. Wesley gave his visitors to understand that, in the execution of his office, and acting without respect of persons, he might find it necessary to repel one of Causton’s family from the holy communion. He further told the “chief magistrate” what the people of Savannah were saying against his magisterial proceedings.[204] All this made the coming storm more threatening.

Some weeks elapsed; and then, on August 7, five months after her marriage, Wesley refused to allow Mrs. Williamson to join in the Lord’s supper. The next day, Mr. Recorder issued a warrant for the apprehension of “John Wesley, clerk,” and commanding the constables and tithingmen to bring him before one of the bailiffs of Savannah, to answer the complaint of William Williamson for defaming his wife, and refusing to administer to her the sacrament of the Lord’s supper, in a public congregation, without cause; “by which the said William Williamson was damaged one thousand pounds sterling.”

Wesley was arrested and brought before Mr. Bailiff Parker and Mr. Recorder Christie. His answer to the charge was, “that the giving or refusing the Lord’s supper being a matter purely ecclesiastical, he could not acknowledge their power to[Pg 153] interrogate him concerning it.” The bailiff told him he must appear at the next Savannah court; and Williamson demanded bail for his appearance, but the officials ruled that Wesley’s word was in itself sufficient.

Two days later, Causton called on Wesley, and demanded that he should send to Mrs. Williamson, in writing, “the reasons for repelling her before the whole congregation.” Wesley complied, and wrote as follows:—

On receiving this, Causton began to read, to as many of the people as he could collect together, extracts from the letters which Wesley had written to himself or to his niece, from the beginning of their acquaintance, adding comments of his own, to Wesley’s disadvantage. Others of Causton’s family were assiduous in their endeavours to convince their neighbours that Wesley had repelled Mrs. Williamson from the communion because she had refused to marry him. In the midst of all this Wesley writes: “I sat still at home, and, I thank God, easy, having committed my cause to Him, and remembering His word, ‘Blessed is the man that endureth temptation; for when he is tried he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love Him.”[205]

Meanwhile, Causton desired Mr. Burnside, the trustees’ secretary, to sign a certificate to the effect that Mrs. William[Pg 154]son had been for ten months past as constant a communicant as any other, and that she had been of unblamable behaviour. Mr. Burnside said he could not sign it with a safe conscience, knowing it to be false. Upon which Causton severely reproached him, and discharged him from his employment. However, a number of names were procured to the certificate, though, Wesley adds, the first part of it was shamefully untrue, for Mrs. Williamson had omitted communicating nine times in three months; in other words, had only communicated once a month instead of once a week.[206]

The Savannah court was to sit on August 22, a fortnight after Wesley’s arrest; and Causton employed his utmost power, and art, and application, in prejudicing the persons who were to form the grand jury. His table was free to the whole of them. Whatever they desired from the public stores was delivered to them. Old misunderstandings were forgotten, and nothing was too much to be done or promised for men who, a week before, were unable, from such a source, to procure even a crust of bread.

Six days previous to the opening of the court, Wesley, at the request of several of his communicants, read a short statement of the case, after the evening prayers, in the open congregation.[207]

At length the great day of trial, in this Lilliputian kingdom, came. The grand jury consisted of forty-four of the illustrious inhabitants, about a fifth part of the adult male population of Savannah. One was a Frenchman, ignorant of the English language; one a papist; one a professed infidel; three were Baptists; sixteen or seventeen others were Dissenters; and of the rest, several had personal quarrels against Wesley, and had openly vowed revenge.

Causton gave a long and earnest charge to the jury, “to beware of spiritual tyranny, and to oppose the new, illegal authority which was usurped over their consciences.” Mrs. Williamson’s affidavit was read, the substance of which has been already given, with the exception that, after her marriage, Wesley took every opportunity to force upon her his[Pg 155] private discourse, and terrified her by telling her that her soul would be in danger, if she did not spend her time, and converse with him, in the same manner, as she did before her marriage.[208]

Causton then delivered to the grand jury a paper, entitled “A List of Grievances,” pretending to show that the Rev. John Wesley “deviates from the principles and regulations of the Established Church in many particulars inconsistent with the happiness and prosperity of this colony,” as:—

How did the grand jury deal with these charges?

First of all, Mrs. Williamson was called, but acknowledged, in the course of her examination, that she had no objection to Wesley’s behaviour previous to her marriage. After her, Mr. and Mrs. Causton were examined; the former confessing that, if Wesley had asked his consent to marry his niece, he would not have refused it.[210] Ten other witnesses were put into the box, and several of Wesley’s letters to Mrs. Williamson were read.[211]

Some days were spent in sifting the business; and then, on September 1, a majority of the jurymen agreed to the following indictments:—

1. That, after the 12th of March last, the said John Wesley did several times privately force his conversation to Sophia Christiana Williamson, contrary to the express desire and command of her husband; and did likewise write and privately convey papers to her, thereby occasioning much uneasiness between her and her husband.

2. That, on the 7th of August last, he refused the sacrament of the Lord’s supper to Sophia Christiana Williamson, without any apparent reason, much to the disquiet of her mind, and to the great disgrace and hurt of her character.

3. That he hath not, since his arrival in Savannah, emitted any public declaration of his adherence to the principles and regulations of the Church of England.

4. That, for many months past, he has divided on the Lord’s day the order of morning prayer, appointed to be used in the Church of England, by only reading the said morning prayer and the litany at five or six o’clock, and wholly omitting the same between the hours of nine and eleven o’clock, the customary time of public morning prayer.

5. That, about the month of April, 1736, he refused to baptize, otherwise than by dipping, the child of Henry Parker, unless the said Henry Parker and his wife would certify that[Pg 157] the child was weak and not able to bear dipping; and added to his refusal, that, unless the said parents would consent to have it dipped, it might die a heathen.

6. That, notwithstanding he administered the sacrament of the Lord’s supper to William Gough, about the month of March, 1736, he did, within a month after, refuse the sacrament to the said William Gough, saying that he had heard that William Gough was a Dissenter.

7. That in June, 1736, he refused reading the Office of the Dead over the body of Nathaniel Polhill, only because Nathaniel Polhill was not of his opinion; by means of which refusal the said Nathaniel Polhill was interred without the appointed Office for the Burial of the Dead.

8. That, on or about the 10th of August, 1737, he, in the presence of Thomas Causton, presumptuously called himself “Ordinary of Savannah,” assuming thereby an authority which did not belong to him.

9. That in Whitsun-week last he refused William Aglionby to stand godfather to the child of Henry Marley, giving no other reason than that the said William Aglionby had not been at the communion table with him.

10. That, about the month of July last, he baptized the child of Thomas Jones, having only one godfather and godmother, notwithstanding that Jacob Matthews did offer to stand godfather.[212]

Such were the findings of the majority of the grand jury. The minority of twelve, including three constables and six tithingmen, drew up and signed a document, and transmitted it “to the honourable the trustees for Georgia,” to the following effect:—

1. That they were thoroughly persuaded that the charges against Mr. Wesley were an artifice of Mr. Causton’s, designed rather to blacken the character of Mr. Wesley than to free the colony from religious tyranny, as he had alleged.

2. That it did not appear that Mr. Wesley had either spoken in private or written to Mrs. Williamson since the day of her marriage, except one letter, which he wrote on the 5th of July, at the request of her uncle, as a pastor, to exhort and reprove her.

[Pg 158]

3. That, though he did refuse the sacrament to Mrs. Williamson on the 7th of August last, he did not assume to himself any authority contrary to law, for every person intending to communicate was bound to signify his name to the curate, at least some time the day before; which Mrs. Williamson did not do; although Mr. Wesley had often, in full congregation, declared he did insist on a compliance with that rubric, and had before repelled divers persons for non-compliance therewith.

4. That, though he had not in Savannah emitted any public declaration of his adherence to the principles and regulations of the Church of England, he had done this, in a stronger manner than by a formal declaration, by explaining and defending the three creeds, the thirty-nine articles, the whole Book of Common Prayer, and the homilies; besides a formal declaration is not required, but from those who have received institution and induction.

5. That though he had divided, on the Lord’s day, the order of morning prayer, this was not contrary to any law in being.

6. That his refusal to baptize Henry Parker’s child, otherwise than by dipping, was justified by the rubric.

7. That, though he had refused the sacrament to William Gough, the said William Gough (one of the twelve jurors who signed the document sent to the trustees) publicly declared that the refusal was no grievance to him, because Mr. Wesley had given him reasons with which he was satisfied.

8. That, in reference to the alleged refusal to read the burial service over the body of Nathaniel Polhill, they had good reason to believe that Mr. Wesley was at Frederica, or on his return thence, when Polhill was interred; besides Polhill was an anabaptist, and desired, in his lifetime, that he might not be buried with the office of the Church of England.

9. That they were in doubt about the indictment concerning Wesley calling himself “Ordinary of Savannah,” not well knowing the meaning of the word.

10. That, though Mr. Wesley refused to allow William Aglionby to stand godfather to the child of Henry Marley, and Jacob Matthews to stand godfather to the child of Thomas Jones, he was sufficiently justified by the canons of the Church, because neither Aglionby nor Matthews had certified Mr. Wesley that they had ever received the holy communion.

[Pg 159]

Such were the findings of his foes and of his friends: the only difference, as to fact, between the majority of thirty-two and the minority of twelve, is that which relates to Mrs. Williamson and Nathaniel Polhill. The minority declare that it is not true that Mr. Wesley did several times privately force his conversation to Sophia Williamson after her marriage; and that they have good reason to believe that it is not true that he refused to read the burial service over Nathaniel Polhill, because, at the time of the burial, he was absent from Savannah. All the other alleged facts are admitted, but are also justified. How did Wesley meet the indictments?

On September 2, the day after they were presented and were read to the people, he appeared in court, and spoke to this effect:—“As to nine of the ten indictments against me, I know this court can take no cognisance of them, they being matters of an ecclesiastical nature. But that concerning my speaking and writing to Mrs. Williamson is of a secular nature; and this, therefore, I desire may be tried here where the facts complained of were committed.”[213]

In this Wesley was unquestionably right. His conduct as a priest of the Church of England might be, as it doubtless was, arrogant, foolish, offensive, intolerant; but the petty magisterial court at Savannah had no more right to try him for his high church practices than an Old Bailey judge and jury have to try the half-fledged papistical rectors, curates, and incumbents, who are playing such fantastic tricks in the Protestant churches of old England at the present day. They had a right to try him on the matter mentioned by himself, inasmuch as it was alleged that Mrs. Williamson had been injured in her character, and, on that account, her husband demanded damages to the extent of £1000.

Wesley was prepared to answer this indictment, and moved for an immediate hearing; but the court evaded his request, and postponed the hearing to its next sitting. From September 1, when the indictments were first presented, to the end of November, when Wesley made known his intention to return to England, he seems to have attended not fewer than seven different sittings of the court, asking to be tried on the[Pg 160] charge affecting the character of Mrs. Williamson; but all to no purpose. The fact is, Mr. and Mrs. Williamson, after having stabbed him, were about to set sail to England,[214] and their contemplated absence was made a pretext for not proceeding with the trial. There can be little doubt that the whole affair was as the twelve jurors believed, a device of Thomas Causton, to gratify his spite, and, by annoyances, to drive Wesley from the colony.

Six days after the majority of the grand jury presented their indictments, Mr. Dixon, chaplain to a company of soldiers at Frederica, called on Wesley, and informed him that the magistrates of Savannah had given him authority to perform ecclesiastical offices in the town; and that he should begin to do so the day following, by reading prayers, preaching, and administering the Lord’s supper. Accordingly, on September 8, the bell was rung, and Mr. Dixon read prayers and preached, in Wesley’s church, to Mr. Causton, Mr. and Mrs. Williamson, and about half-a-score other persons. He announced that he had intended to administer the holy communion, but some of his communicants were indisposed. He would, however, read prayers and preach every Thursday, and would administer baptism to as many children as might be brought for that purpose. This was ipso facto a setting aside of Wesley; or, at all events, it was an arbitrary appointment of another clergyman to fill his place.

On the Sunday following, September 11, Wesley preached from, “It must needs be that offences come;” and then proceeded to read a paper which he had read before, on the day he began his ministry at Savannah, and in which he had apprised his congregation:—1. That he must admonish every one of them, not only in public, but from house to house. 2. That he could admit none to the holy communion without previous notice. 3. That he should divide the morning service in compliance with the first design of the Church. 4. That he should obey the rubric by dipping in baptism all children who were well able to endure it. 5. That he should admit none who were not communicants to be sureties in baptism. 6. That though, in general, he had all the authority which was[Pg 161] entrusted to any one within the province, yet he was only a servant of the Church of England,—not a judge, and therefore obliged to keep the regulations of that Church in all things.[215]

On succeeding Sundays, he read to the congregations the homilies, and then began reading Dr. Rogers’s eight sermons, as an antidote against the poison of infidelity. Up to the present, he had no intention of leaving the colony. Indeed, as lately as the 7th of June last, he had written to his sister Keziah, and had made her an offer to come and live with him at Savannah;[216] but, as soon as it was known that Williamson and his wife were about to start for England, Delamotte urged that Wesley ought to go as well, in order to prevent, or remove, the misrepresentations which they were likely to make. This was on September 9;[217] and, a month later, Wesley took counsel with his friends on the same subject. They were unanimously of opinion “that he ought to go, but not yet;” and accordingly he abandoned his purpose for the present.

Meanwhile, he commenced three kinds of services which he had not before attempted. He offered to read prayers, and to expound the Scriptures, in French, every Saturday afternoon, to the French families settled at Highgate, five miles from Savannah, which offer was thankfully accepted. The French at Savannah heard of this, and requested he would do the same for them, with which request he willingly complied. He also began to read prayers and expound in German, once a week, to the German villagers of Hampstead.

His Sunday labour, during the few weeks that he yet remained in Savannah, was as follows:—1. English prayers from five o’clock to half-past six. 2. Italian prayers at nine. 3. A sermon and the holy communion, for the English, from half-past ten to about half-past twelve. 4. The service for the French at one, including prayers, psalms, and Scripture exposition. 5. The catechizing of the children at two. 6. The third English service at three. 7. After this, a meeting in his own house for reading, prayer, and praise. 8. At six, the Moravian service began, which he was glad to attend, not to teach, but learn.

Thus things proceeded until November 22, when Causton[Pg 162] sent for Wesley and showed him an affidavit, sworn on September 15, to the effect that he had called Causton a liar and a villain; but, with characteristic duplicity, said he had not sent this affidavit to the trustees,—a statement, which, in fact, was both true and false, for although he had not sent this affidavit he had sent a copy of it. Causton bitterly added, that the last court held in Savannah had reprimanded him as “an enemy to and a hinderer of the public peace.” “Both,” says an eye-witness, “displayed warmth of temper; but Causton was most vehement. They parted with mutual civilities.”[218]

This caused Wesley to again consult his friends about the propriety of his leaving the colony. He saw that at present there was no possibility of instructing the Indians; neither had he as yet found or heard of any Indians who had the least desire of being instructed. Thus the great reason of his leaving England was not realised. Then, as to Savannah, he had never engaged himself, either by word or letter, to stay there a day longer than he should judge convenient. And, further, he now saw a probability of doing more service to the unhappy colonists by going to England, than he could do by remaining in Georgia; for there he could, without fear or favour, report to the trustees the state in which the colony was placed. All his friends agreed with him; and accordingly, next morning, he called on Causton, and told him he “designed to set out for England immediately, and placarded an advertisement in the great square” of the unbuilt town to the same effect.

Savannah was in great excitement. Causton had his partisans, and so had Wesley his. Scandal was plentiful. Wesley’s congregations dwindled, and were now extremely thin. Mr. Stephens, the secretary of the trustees at Savannah, relates[219] that, in November, he heard Wesley preach on “Is it lawful to give tribute unto Cæsar or not?” from which he discoursed largely on the duties of magistrates, and on the obedience which was due to them; setting forth how far it was consistent with Christian liberty for people to insist upon their rights, when they found themselves oppressed by inferior magistrates exercising a discretionary authority which ex[Pg 163]ceeded their commission. Stephens adds, that the congregation was very poor, and that he found that the magistrates and many of the principal inhabitants had of late wholly absented themselves from church.

On November 20, Wesley preached from the text, “Jesus wept.” Stephens writes: “He showed himself a good casuist; but his metaphysical discourse would have been better adapted to a learned audience than such a poor thin congregation as his, who stood in need of plain doctrine.”

On November 27, he preached from Acts xx. 26, 27. Stephens, who was present, says: “He enforced the practice of all Christian duties most pathetically, which he was well qualified to do. Some people imagined, from the choice of the text, that he meant it as a sort of farewell sermon; but it did not appear so from any particular expressions employed.”

No sooner was it known that Wesley meant to embark for England, than Williamson issued an advertisement that he had brought an action against him for £1000 damages; and that if any one assisted his escape from the colony, he would prosecute such accomplice with the utmost rigour of the law.[220] The magistrates also sent for Wesley, and told him he must not leave the province till he had answered the indictments against him. Wesley replied that he had already attended seven sessions of the court to answer them, and had not been permitted. They then requested him to sign a kind of bond, engaging him, under a penalty of £50, to appear at their court when he should be required; and added that Mr. Williamson also demanded that he should give bail to answer his action. Wesley replied that he would give neither any bond, nor any bail at all; and so he left them. In the afternoon of the same day they published an order requiring all the officers and sentinels to prevent his leaving the province, and forbidding any person to assist him in doing so.

He was now a prisoner at large, and the same evening, after public prayers, he set out in a boat for Purrysburg, distant about twenty miles, and thus left Savannah and Georgia for ever.[221]

[Pg 164]

Arriving at Purrysburg early in the morning of December 3, Wesley and the four men who had assisted in his escape, and had rowed him to Purrysburg, set out on foot to Port Royal. Tramping their way through trackless forests, they came to a large swamp, around which they wandered for three weary hours. Then they had to force their way through an almost impassable thicket. They had now been trudging from an hour before sunrise in the morning till nearly sunset at night, and had not tasted food, except a gingerbread cake, which Wesley happened to have in his pocket. They were faint and weary, and no wonder. Thrusting a stick into the ground, and finding its end moist, two of them set to work digging with their hands, and, at about three feet depth, obtained water. They thanked God, drank, and were refreshed. The month was December, and the night cold; but there was no complaining; and, having commended themselves to God, they lay down on the ground, close together, and Wesley, at least, slept till near six in the morning.

The next day was Sunday; but the bewildered fugitives started again, and after three more days of weary wandering reached Port Royal. Delamotte joined them on Thursday, December 8, when, taking a boat, they all set sail for Charlestown. This was no comfortable steamer, but a small watercraft, without covering, and impelled by oars. Four days were spent in making the passage, the winds were contrary, and their provisions short; but, cold and hungry, they arrived in safety on Tuesday, December 13.[222]

[Pg 165]

Wesley and Delamotte, with the exception of a few brief days, had not been parted for the last six-and-twenty months: but on December 22 the former set sail for England; the latter, for a season, was left behind. One of Wesley’s fellow passengers was a young gentleman, who had been one of his parishioners at Savannah; and another was Eleanor Hayes, who became one of the first Methodists in London, and of whom an interesting notice may be found in the Methodist Magazine for 1867. It was impossible for Wesley to live an idle life. During the voyage, he began instructing two negro lads and the cabin-boy in the principles of the Christian religion. On Sundays, at least, he had morning and evening prayers. He finished his abridgment of De Renty’s Life; and he read and explained to a poor Frenchman a chapter in the New Testament every morning. When in mid-ocean they encountered a terrific storm, which gave Wesley an opportunity of speaking faithfully to all on board about their eternal interests. On February 1 they landed at Deal, the day after George Whitefield had set sail for the very settlement which Wesley had been obliged to leave.

During the passage Wesley had ample time for self-examination, and wrote as follows:—

[Pg 166]

He adds:—

After landing in England, he penned another remarkable paper, which has often been cited without a quotation of the notes he appended in after years.[223] He asserts that when he went to America, to convert the Indians, he was not himself converted; but in the appended note he adds, “I am not sure of this.” Neither are we. By his conscientious severity in comparing himself with the standard of a perfect Christian, as contained in the New Testament, and by his imperfect and mystified views of the scriptural plan of salvation, he might deprive himself of the filial confidence and joy belonging to a child of God; but we dare not affirm that he was a child of wrath because he was without the joy. On the same principle, thousands of us would be children one day, but not the next. Wesley’s assertion was too strong; in after life[Pg 167] he felt it so; and those who quote it ought, in all fairness, to add what he himself appended.

In another part of the same document he says of himself: “Alienated as I am from the life of God, I am a child of wrath, an heir of hell.” But the note he attached to this, in subsequent years, is, “I believe not”; and if not a child of wrath, then in his opinion, and after mature reflection, he had a right to think himself a child of grace and an heir of heaven.

Another of his notes is: “I had even then the faith of a servant, though not that of a son;” and that the reader may know what interpretation to put upon such words, we give the following extract from one of Wesley’s own sermons:—

[Pg 168]

Let those who have been accustomed to cite Wesley’s hasty and incautious condemnation of himself, on his return from Georgia, read it again in the light of his own appended notes, and in the light of this extract from a sermon written by himself nearly fifty years afterwards; and they will then have a more correct idea of Wesley’s religious state at Oxford and in America, and will also be better fitted to understand what is meant by what is called his conversion on the 24th of May, 1738. This matter, however, must be resumed in its proper place.

Wesley, in Georgia, was accepted of God through Christ; but, to cite his own words at the conclusion of his own condemnatory document, he wanted “a sure trust and confidence in God, that, through the merits of Christ, his sins were forgiven.” “I want,” says he, “that faith which none can have without knowing that he hath it.”

Wesley, according to his own explanation, had long been in a saved state (though he knew it not); but he was far from being perfect, either in spirit or behaviour. No man could be more sincere or earnest; but it is hoped that few ministers of equal learning, wisdom, and sanctity make greater blunders than were made by him at Savannah. There can be little doubt that he had ecclesiastical authority for most, if not all, his priestly practices; and so have the half papistical priests and ritualists of the present day. But as England now is right in resisting the introduction of rites and ceremonies, fasts and feasts, confessions and penances, absolutions and interdicts, savouring more of the man of sin than of the word of God,—so Savannah then was right in resisting similar innovations attempted to be introduced by the extremely high church priest, fresh from the society of the Oxford Methodists. If we are right in denouncing ritualism now, Savannah was right in denouncing ritualism then. If the thing is offensive and obnoxious here, it was equally offensive and obnoxious there; and if no other end had been answered by Wesley’s mission to America than knocking out of him his high church nonsense, the good effected would have been an ample compensation for two dangerous voyages of six thousand miles, and for all the discomforts of living two-and-twenty months, in a log-built hut, among almost homeless[Pg 169] emigrants, who had taken with them to the swamps and woods of Georgia more covetousness than courtesy, more rudeness than rank, more quarrelsomeness than quietude, and more conceit than common sense.

Wesley has been blamed for repelling Mrs. Williamson from the communion; and if he had nothing more to allege against her than the offence that, since her marriage, she had come to sacrament once a month only, instead of once a week, he deserves to be blamed. It was a rash proceeding, utterly unwarranted; and both she and her husband did right in resisting it. So far we agree with Wesley’s censors; but we cannot agree with them in saying that the great, if not only, reason of his repelling her was revenge arising out of her refusal to marry him. There is not a particle of evidence in proof of that. Five months had elapsed since her marriage; and, again and again, during that interval, he had administered to her the holy communion. The repulse was, on his part, a strictly conscientious, not a revengeful act; but though conscientious, it was, to say the least, mistaken, and deserves censure instead of praise. Mr. Moore says that, about three months after Mrs. Williamson’s marriage, Wesley saw things in her conduct which induced him to bless God for his deliverance in not marrying her, and that these things were noted in his private journal never printed. We have not the slightest wish to defend the lady where she deserves censure: but fairness compels us to say that we have seen the private journal; but neither in it, nor elsewhere, have we met with anything charged against her more serious than what has been already mentioned in the present far too lengthy chapter. Dissimulation is the strongest word Wesley has used concerning her; and this is used in reference to something which happened three months after she was married, and of which no explanation is given.[225] Miss Hopkey, like Wesley himself, was not so good as she might have been; but that is not a sufficient reason why Wesley’s biographers should insinuate, if not assert, that she was worse than she really was.

Wesley’s mission to America seemed a failure! But was it so? When Whitefield arrived, he wrote: “The good[Pg 170] Mr. John Wesley has done in America is inexpressible. His name is very precious among the people; and he has laid a foundation that I hope neither men nor devils will ever be able to shake. Oh that I may follow him as he has followed Christ.”[226]

Wesley himself observes:—

These are no mean results to be realised in about two years,—self-knowledge, caution, acquaintance with the church that was to help him to clearer views of the plan of salvation, the acquisition of three European languages, the unprecedented fact of preaching Christ to all the widely scattered inhabitants of an English colony, steps taken to evangelise negroes and Indians, many children religiously educated, and the way prepared for promoting the prosperity of Georgia to the end of time!

WHITEFIELD left England the day before Wesley reached it. He landed in Georgia on the 7th of May, 1738, and remained sixteen weeks; and then set out again for his own country, where he arrived on November 30. A flying visit, but not a fruitless one. Having been ordained by Bishop Benson in June, 1736, he began his unparalleled preaching career with a sermon in the church of St. Mary de Crypt, Gloucester, where he had been baptized, and where he first received the sacrament of the Lord’s supper. Some of his congregation mocked, but most were powerfully impressed. The bishop was informed that the sermon had driven fifteen persons mad; the worthy prelate hoped the madness would be abiding. Whitefield was a stripling of twenty-one; but wherever he went crowds flocked to hear him. At Bristol, the whole city seemed alarmed; Quakers, Baptists, Presbyterians, and sectarians of all kinds, ran after him; and churches were as full on week days as they had used to be on Sundays. Wesley wrote to his Oxford friends, asking help for Georgia. Whitefield was preaching as often as four times a day, and had become so famous that Raikes, of Gloucester, and others, thought it an enrichment of their newspapers to insert accounts of his doings; but his friend Wesley needed help, and that was quite enough to make him treat as trifles the praises of the multitudes who ran after him. Just at the time when Wesley was compelled to leave Georgia, Whitefield repaired to London to embark for it. During his brief detention, in less than three months, he preached in London above a hundred sermons, and collected above a thousand pounds for charity schools and for the poor. When he set sail, he read prayers and preached twice every day; and such was his influence on board, that the very soldiers stood out before him to say their catechism like little children.

[Pg 172]

The day after his arrival at Savannah, Causton and the magistrates sent word that they would wait upon him; but he chose rather to wait upon them, and was treated with as much deference as Wesley had been treated with disrespect. He began to visit from house to house, catechized, read prayers morning and evening, and expounded the two second lessons every day. He found Tomo-Chichi, the Indian chief, on a blanket, thin and meagre, and evidently dying. At Hampstead and Highgate he followed Wesley’s example, and read prayers once a week, though the population of the former village consisted of only three men, one woman, and seven children. He also visited Thunderbolt, a village of three families consisting of sixteen persons, and preached to them. He likewise opened a girls’ school at Savannah. He paid a few days’ visit to Frederica, where there was now a population of about one hundred and twenty; and read prayers and preached, under a large tree, to more than could have been expected. He also visited the Saltzburghers at Ebenezer, and found two such pious ministers as he had not often seen.

Four months having been thus spent, he set out for England, the Savannah people bidding adieu to him with tearful eyes, and begging that he would soon return. He landed in Ireland in November, where mayors and bishops vied with each other in inviting him to their mansions and palaces, and where he also took the opportunity of visiting the cabins of Irish peasants, in one of which, twenty feet long and twelve broad, there were a man, his wife and three children, two pigs feeding, two dogs, and several geese, a great fire, and the master of the family threshing corn.

On reaching London, he found that those who had been awakened by his preaching a year ago had “grown strong men in Christ, by the ministrations of his dear friends and fellow labourers, John and Charles Wesley.” The old doctrine of justification by faith only had been much revived; societies had been instituted at Fetter Lane and other places; and Whitefield ended the eventful year of 1738 by preaching and expounding, during the last week of it, not fewer than seven-and-twenty times.[228]

[Pg 173]

Let us now turn to Wesley. He landed at Deal early in the morning of February 1; and at once resumed his work in England, by reading prayers and preaching at the inn. After breakfast, he set out for London, and, reaching Faversham at night, he again read prayers and expounded the second lesson to a few who were called Christians, but who were more savage in their behaviour than the wildest Indians he had ever met. His next halting place was Blendon, where the family of his friend Charles Delamotte gave him a hearty welcome. On the evening of February 3, he arrived in London; and, without delay, visited Oglethorpe, and waited upon the Georgian trustees; gave to them a written account why he had left the colony; and returned to them the instrument whereby they had appointed him minister of Savannah.

Wesley was too earnest to take a holiday. Time with him was too important for any part of it to be spent in idleness. Reaching London on Friday, he resumed preaching on Sunday; and, for the next fifty-three years, never ceased, and never lagged, in this important work, except when serious sickness occasionally laid upon him a brief embargo.

And, certainly, if England ever needed earnest, enthusiastic labourers, it was now. During this very year of 1738, not fewer than fifty-two criminals were hanged at Tyburn; and within the last two years about 12,000 persons had been convicted, within the Bills of Mortality, of smuggling gin, or of selling it without the £50 per annum licence. Sunday traffic had become such a nuisance in London and its suburbs, that even the court of aldermen interfered, and commanded the marshals, and all constables, beadles, and other public officers, to use their best endeavours to suppress it. They were also to apprehend all shoeblacks cleaning shoes in the public streets; and to take notice of all vintners, ale and coffee house keepers, barbers, and others, who exercised their ordinary trades on Sundays. A committee of the House of Lords “to examine into the causes of the present notorious immorality and profaneness,” stated, in their report, that they had sufficient grounds to believe that a number of loose and disorderly persons had of late formed themselves into a club, under the name of Blasters, and were using means to induce the youth of the kingdom to join them. The members of this impious[Pg 174] club professed themselves to be votaries of the devil, offered prayers to him, and drank his health. They also had been heard to utter “the most daring and execrable blasphemies against the sacred name and majesty of God; and to use such obscene, blasphemous, and before unheard of expressions as the Lords’ committee think they cannot even mention, and therefore they pass them over in silence.” The same committee further reported, that “of late years there had appeared a greater neglect of religion and of all things sacred—a greater neglect of Divine worship, both public and private, and of the due observance of the sabbath, than had ever before been known in England. There was a want of reverence to the laws and to magistrates, and of a due subordination in the several ranks and degrees of the community. There was an abuse of liberty, a great neglect in education, and a want of care in training children, and in keeping servants in good order; while idleness, luxury, gambling, and an excessive use of spirituous and intoxicating liquors had grown into an alarming magnitude.” The report concludes by recommending that the bishops be desired, at their visitations, to particularly charge the clergy to exhort the people to a more frequent and constant attendance at Divine services; and that visitors of the universities and of schools require the fellows and masters carefully to instruct the youth committed to their care, in the principles of religion and morality; to which recommendation the House of Lords agreed.

One month, in 1738, was spent by Wesley in his homeward voyage from America. Three others were spent in Germany. During the remaining eight he preached in various parts of England, at least, eighty times. One of his sermons was delivered in the cabin of a ship, two were preached in workhouses, eleven in Oxford castle, one in Oxford Bocardo, one in Lincoln College chapel, one in Manchester, one at Windsor, one at Stanton-Harcourt, two in Newgate prison, and the remainder principally in twenty-six different churches in the metropolis. His sermon at St. John the Evangelist’s “offended many of the best in the parish.” His first discourse at St. Lawrence’s was “an open defiance of that mystery of iniquity which the world calls ‘prudence,’” and gave great offence. A sermon at Oxford castle was chiefly[Pg 175] addressed to a man condemned to die, and who, on the same day, found the forgiveness of his sins, and shortly after went to the gallows “enjoying perfect peace.” At one of his sermons in Newgate prison, nine persons were present who had recently received sentence of death—two for murdering their wives, one for filing guineas, two for burglary, and four for robberies. These wretched creatures, and two others previously condemned, were all executed at Tyburn, on November 8;[229] and, at their earnest desire, Wesley and his brother, on the day of execution, went to Newgate “to do the last good office” to them. Charles preached; the malefactors wept; and some of them, at least, were filled with “the peace of God which passeth all understanding.” Wesley writes: “It was the most glorious instance I ever saw of faith triumphing over sin and death.”

The great event in Wesley’s history, during the year 1738, was his conversion. Something has been said already on this momentous subject; but other facts and explanations must now be given. Let us try to answer the questions following:—

1. What was the religious state, and what were the religious views, of Wesley previous to his conversion? 2. What were the doctrines he was taught by Peter Bohler? 3. When was he converted? and how?

1. Wesley’s religious state and views previous to his conversion.

He was almost a Christian.[230] He most rigorously abstained from everything which the gospel of Christ prohibits, and cheerfully practised everything which it enjoins. He avoided every form of profanity, and every word or look that, directly or indirectly, tended to uncleanness. He equally avoided detraction, backbiting, talebearing, evil speaking, and idle words. He was no railer, brawler, or scoffer at the faults or infirmities of others, but continually endeavoured to live peaceably with all men. He laboured and suffered for the benefit of many. He reproved the wicked, instructed the ignorant, confirmed the wavering, quickened the good, and comforted the afflicted. He used all the means of grace, and at all opportunities: he attended public service every day;[Pg 176] he communicated every week; he constantly used family prayer; he had set times daily for private devotions. All this was done from a sincere and hearty desire to serve God and to do His will. In all his conversation and in all his actions—in all he did and in all he left undone, his only motive was a design to please and honour God. He declares that he went thus far for many years, and yet that all this time he was only almost a Christian.[231]

He held no principles but what he believed to be revealed in the word of God; and, in the interpretation of that word he always judged the most literal sense to be the best, unless when the literal sense of one scripture contradicted some other. He firmly believed in a change wrought in the heart by the Holy Spirit, and called a person thus changed “regenerated, born again, and a new creature.” In all other cases, he endeavoured to express spiritual things in spiritual words, though he was not ignorant that such words and their hidden meaning were treated by the unconverted as jargon and cant.[232]

He had many remarkable answers to prayer, especially when he was in trouble; and he had many sensible comforts—short anticipations of the life of faith. He had a Divine conviction of God and of the things of God; and firmly believed in Jesus Christ as the Saviour of the world.[233] He was, at least, a servant of God, and was accepted of Him;[234] and yet all this while he was beating the air, and was seeking to establish his own righteousness, instead of submitting to the righteousness of Christ which is by faith. He delighted in the law of God, after the inner man; and yet he was carnal, sold under sin. Every day he was constrained to cry out, “What I do I allow not: for what I would I do not; but what I hate that I do. To will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good, I find not.” He was fighting with sin continually, but not always conquering. Before, he had willingly served sin; now it was unwillingly; but still he served it. He fell, and rose, and fell again. Sometimes he was overcome, and in heaviness; sometimes he overcame, and[Pg 177] was in joy. Once he had foretastes of the terrors of the law; but now he had foretastes of the comforts of the gospel. For above ten years there was in him this struggle between nature and grace; and yet he was still only striving with, not freed from, sin; neither had he the witness of the Spirit with his spirit that he was a child of God; nor indeed could he, for he “sought it not by faith, but, as it were, by the works of the law.”[235]

Such is Wesley’s description of himself; and this, when added to what has been previously said concerning his religious career at Oxford, will be a sufficient answer to the first of the three questions proposed.

2. The second is, what were the doctrines which Wesley was taught by Peter Bohler?

In the storm which Wesley encountered in his voyage from Georgia, he found himself in fear of death; and was convinced that the cause of it was unbelief; and that the gaining a true living faith was the “one thing needful” for him.

Peter Bohler told him that true faith in Christ was inseparably attended by—(1) dominion over sin; and (2) constant peace, arising from a sense of forgiveness. Wesley was amazed, and regarded this as a new gospel; for if this was so, it was clear that he was without true faith in Christ, because he was without its inseparable fruits. He was not willing to be convinced of this. He disputed with all his strength, and laboured to prove that there might be faith without the two fruits mentioned, and especially the second. Bohler referred him to the Bible and to experience. Wesley consulted the Bible, and when he had set aside the glosses of men he was bound to acknowledge that Bohler was correct. Still he hesitated to believe that any “experience” could be adduced in favour of Bohler’s doctrine. The next day Bohler brought to him three persons, all of whom testified of their own personal experience that a true living faith in Christ is inseparable from a sense of pardon for all past, and freedom from all present, sins. They also added, with one mouth, that this faith is the gift, the free gift of God; and that He will surely give it to every one who earnestly and perseveringly prays for it.

[Pg 178]

At subsequent interviews with Bohler, another doctrine was forced on Wesley, namely, that this saving faith in Christ is given in a moment; and that in an instant a man is turned from sin and misery to righteousness and joy in the Holy Ghost. Wesley kicked against this also; and Bohler again referred him to the Scriptures and to experience. Wesley searched the Scriptures; and, to his utter astonishment, he found there were scarcely any instances of other than instantaneous conversions. Still he had one retreat left, and told Bohler that, though “God wrought thus in the first ages of Christianity, times now were changed.” To meet this objection, Bohler, the day after, turned to his experience test, and brought to Wesley several living witnesses, who testified that God had given them, in a moment, such a faith in Christ as translated them out of darkness into light, out of sin and fear into holiness and happiness. Wesley writes: “Here ended my disputing. I could now only cry out, ‘Lord, help Thou my unbelief.’ I was now thoroughly convinced; and, by the grace of God, I resolved to seek this faith unto the end—(1) By absolutely renouncing all dependence, in whole or in part, upon my own works of righteousness; on which I had really grounded my hope of salvation, though I knew it not, from my youth up. (2) By adding to the constant use of all the other means of grace continual prayer for this very thing—justifying, saving faith, a full reliance on the blood of Christ shed for me; a trust in Him as my Christ, as my sole justification, sanctification, and redemption.”[236]

These then were the great doctrines which Peter Bohler brought to the hearing of John Wesley. They were new to him; but finding them to be scriptural, and also corroborated by living experience, he at once believed them. He went to the Delamotte family at Blendon, and there spake clearly and fully concerning them. Mr. Broughton and his brother Charles were present. The former objected, and the latter became so much offended, that in anger he left the room, telling his brother that his newfangled doctrines were mischievous.[237] Wesley also wrote to his brother Samuel on the[Pg 179] same subject, on the 4th of April, declaring that he had seen, so far as it could be seen, very many persons changed, in a moment, from the spirit of horror, fear, and despair, to the spirit of hope, joy, and peace; and from sinful desires, till then reigning over them, to a pure desire of doing the will of God.[238]

We proceed to the third question,—

3. When and how was Wesley converted? His first interview with Bohler was on February 7, 1738; and, from that time till the 4th of May, when Bohler left London for Carolina, he embraced every opportunity of conversing with him. They went in company to Oxford, and to Mr. Gambold, at Stanton-Harcourt. The man of erudition, and of almost anchorite piety, sat at the feet of this godly German like a little child, and was content to be thought a fool that he might be wise. “My brother, my brother,” said Bohler, “that philosophy of yours must be purged away;” and purged away it was. Wesley thought that, being without faith, he ought to leave off preaching. But Bohler replied: “By no means. Preach faith till you have it; and then, because you have it, you will preach it;” and, on the 6th of March, he began to preach accordingly. Meanwhile several of his friends, as his brother Charles, Mr. Gambold, and Mr. Stonehouse, vicar of Islington, had embraced the doctrine of salvation by faith only; and two, Whitefield, and Mr. Hutchins, of Pembroke College, had experienced it.[239] Charles Wesley also, on Whit-Sunday, May 21, was made a partaker of the same great blessing. At the time, he was ill of pleurisy, and his brother and some other friends came to him, and sang a hymn of praise to the Holy Ghost; and, after they were gone, he was enabled to exercise that faith in Christ of the want of which he had been recently convinced, and was filled with love and peace. Wesley himself was still a mourner. His heart was heavy. He felt that there was no good in him; and that all his works, his righteousness, and his prayers, so far from having merit, needed an atonement for themselves. His mouth was stopped. He knew that he deserved nothing but wrath; and yet he heard a voice, saying, “Believe, and thou[Pg 180] shalt be saved;” “he that believeth is passed from death unto life.” Three more days of anguish were thus passed; and then, on May 24, at five in the morning, he opened his Testament on these words: “There are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises, that by these ye might be partakers of the Divine nature.” On leaving home, he opened on the text, “Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.” In the afternoon, he went to St. Paul’s Cathedral, where the anthem was full of comfort. At night, he went to a society-meeting in Aldersgate Street, where a person read Luther’s preface to the epistle to the Romans, in which Luther teaches what faith is, and also that faith alone justifies. Possessed of it, the heart is “cheered, elevated, excited, and transported with sweet affections towards God.” Receiving the Holy Ghost, through faith, the man “is renewed and made spiritual,” and he is impelled to fulfil the law “by the vital energy in himself.” While this preface was being read, Wesley experienced an amazing change. He writes: “I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me, that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death; and I then testified openly to all there, what I now first felt in my heart.” Towards ten o’clock, a troop of friends took him to his brother; they sang a hymn with joy; and then parted with a prayer.[240]

To add to this would be folly. The questions proposed have been answered from Wesley’s own writings. For ten years he had believed in Christ, but never believed as he did now. He had been intensely pious; but now he possessed power over himself and sin which he had not possessed before. He had practised religion; but now he experienced its bliss. According to his own sermon, written nearly half a century subsequent to this, he was, as a servant of God, accepted, and was safe; but now he knew it, and was happy as well as safe. There was sunshine in his soul, which lit up his face, and which turned the severe ascetic, for a season at least, into a joyful saint.

[Pg 181]

Having given, as briefly and as clearly as we can, an account of the way in which Wesley, after ten years of earnest prayer, rigorous fasting, and self-sacrificing piety, was brought into the blissful enjoyment of a conscious salvation, this may be a fitting place to notice the man, by whose instrumentality he was taught the nature and fruits of saving faith.

Peter Bohler was born at Frankfort, on the last day of the year 1712. He was educated in the university of Jena, where he also studied theology. When sixteen years of age, he joined the Moravians; and when twenty-five, he was ordained for the work of the ministry by Count Zinzendorf, this being the first time that the count exercised his episcopal functions. Immediately after his ordination, Bohler set out for London, on his way to Carolina; and here it was that Wesley first met him. Wesley introduced him to James Hutton, and procured him lodgings. Charles Wesley began to teach him English; and a tailor, of the name of Viney, interpreted his Latin addresses in the Moravian meetings. Questions were asked him, and he simply answered them from the Holy Scriptures. His exposition of saving faith was new, even to the London Moravians; and, “to their astonishment, they saw, for the first time, that he who believeth in Jesus hath everlasting life; and it was with indescribable joy that they embraced the doctrine of justification through faith in Christ, and of freedom by it from the dominion and guilt of sin.”[241] Marvellous blessings attended Bohler’s interpreted discourses; and a work was begun, says Wesley, “such as will never come to an end, till heaven and earth pass away.”

“I travelled,” writes Bohler to Zinzendorf, “with the two brothers, John and Charles Wesley, from London to Oxford. The elder, John, is a good-natured man: he knew he did not properly believe on the Saviour, and was willing to be taught. His brother, with whom you often conversed a year ago, is at present very much distressed in his mind, but does not know how he shall begin to be acquainted with the Saviour. Our mode of believing in the Saviour is so easy to Englishmen, that they cannot reconcile themselves to it; if it were a little more artful, they would much sooner find their way into it.[Pg 182] Of faith in Jesus they have no other idea than the generality of people have. They justify themselves; and, therefore, they always take it for granted, that they believe already, and try to prove their faith by their works, and thus so plague and torment themselves that they are at heart very miserable.”[242]

These are weighty words on the simplicity of saving faith, and well deserve pondering by both the ministers and members of the church at the present day.

Wesley had found peace with God; but, for the encouragement of new converts, let it be remembered that his joy in the Holy Ghost was not unbroken. The same night, he “was much buffeted with temptations, which returned again and again.” The day after, “the enemy injected a fear” that the change was not great enough, and therefore that his faith was not real. On May 26, his “soul continued in peace, but yet in heaviness because of manifold temptations.” On the 27th, there was a want of joy, which led him to resolve to spend the time of every morning, until he went to church, in unceasing prayer. On the 31st, he “grieved the Spirit of God, not only by not watching unto prayer, but likewise by speaking with sharpness, instead of tender love, of one who was not sound in the faith. Immediately God hid His face, and he was troubled and in heaviness till the next morning.” But, in the midst of all, he kept waiting upon God continually, read the New Testament, conquered temptations, and gained increasing power to trust and to rejoice in God his Saviour. He had to fight; but he was not, as formerly, subdued.

He went to Oxford; but the whole of his old Methodist friends were now dispersed. Here he preached his celebrated sermon in St. Mary’s, before the university, on the text, “By grace are ye saved, through faith;” a sermon which, in November following, was published by James Hutton, pp. 25, price threepence. In this discourse, he showed that the faith through which we are saved is not barely the faith of a heathen, who believes that God is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him; nor, secondly, is it the faith of a devil, who, in addition to the faith of a heathen, believes that Jesus is the Son of God, the Christ, the Saviour of the[Pg 183] world; nor, thirdly, is it barely the faith which the apostles had while Christ was yet upon earth, although they so believed in Christ as to leave all and follow Him, had power to work miracles, and were sent to preach; but, fourthly, “it is a full reliance on the blood of Christ,—a trust in the merits of His life, death, and resurrection,—a recumbency upon Him as our atonement and our life, as given for us and living in us; and, in consequence hereof, a closing with Him and cleaving to Him, as our wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption, or, in one word, our salvation.”

The salvation obtained by such a faith is described as being a salvation—(1) From the guilt of all past sin; (2) From servile fear; (3) From the power of sin. The man having it is pardoned; he has the witness of the Spirit that he is a child of God; he is born again; and he lives without sin.

Wesley further answers objections to this doctrine, and shows that to preach salvation by faith only is not to preach against holiness and good works; neither does it lead men into pride, nor drive them to despair. He maintains that never was the preaching of this doctrine more seasonable than now, and that nothing else can effectually prevent the increase of the popish delusion. It was this which drove Popery out of the kingdom, and it is this alone that can keep it out.

This remarkable sermon was preached eighteen days after Wesley’s conversion—not on June 18, as is stated in Wesley’s collected works, but on June 11. Well would it be if, at the present day, the same great doctrine were as plainly preached as Wesley preached it. For want of it, the church is gliding into a sort of religious scepticism; and this, above all things else, would prove a check to the spread of the popish errors and practices, which are too successfully setting at defiance all the wisdom and power of man to prevent their triumph.

In the same year Wesley published another sermon, “On God’s Free Grace,”[243] in which he gave equal prominence to another great Bible truth, namely, that “the grace or love of God, whence cometh our salvation, is free in all, and free for all.” And then, in defence of himself as a good Churchman, he issued a small 12mo pamphlet of sixteen pages, entitled[Pg 184] “The Doctrine of Salvation, Faith, and Good Works: extracted from the Homilies of the Church of England.” Here he shows that the doctrine of that Church is, that the sinner is justified by faith only; and yet this faith does not exclude repentance, hope, love, and fear of God; but shuts them out from the office of justifying. “So that, although they be all present together in him that is justified, yet they justify not altogether.” “Neither does faith shut out good works, necessary to be done afterwards; but we are not to do them with the intent of being justified by doing them.” He further shows that “justification is the office of God only,—a blessing which we receive of Him by His free mercy, through the only merits of His beloved Son.” He adds: “the right and true Christian faith is not only to believe that holy Scripture and the articles of our faith are true, but also to have a sure trust and confidence to be saved from everlasting damnation by Christ; whereof doth follow a loving heart to obey His commandments.” He maintains further that, without this true saving faith, the works we do cannot be good and acceptable in the sight of God. “Faith giveth life to the soul, and they are as much dead to God who want faith, as they are to the world whose bodies want souls. Without faith all we do is but dead before God, be it ever so glorious before man.”

Such then were the great doctrines which Wesley grasped, and began to preach in 1738. It was the preaching of these doctrines that gave birth to the greatest revival of religion chronicled in the history of the church of Christ. From such doctrines Wesley never wavered; and God forbid that they should ever be abandoned, or even partially neglected, by any of Wesley’s successors. They are not Moravian whims, or the fancies of fanatics. They are a great deal more than even Bible truths of subordinate importance. They are essentially and vitally connected with man’s salvation both here and hereafter, and no church has ever prospered except in proportion as its ministers have prominently and faithfully taught and enforced them in their congregations.

It may reasonably be asked how was it that Wesley—the son of a most able divine of the Church of England, and himself a man of extensive learning, and a devoted student of Christian truth—how was it, that he lived so long without a[Pg 185] knowledge of one of the greatest, and yet most clearly taught doctrines of the holy Bible, the doctrine of the sinner’s salvation by faith alone? Wesley himself tells us: from early life he had been warned against the papistical error of laying too much stress on outward works. After this, he read certain Lutheran and Calvinist authors, whose confused and indigested expositions magnified faith to such an amazing size that it quite hid all the rest of the commandments. In this labyrinth he was bewildered. He wished, on the one hand, to avoid the popish doctrine of salvation by works; but, in doing this, he was beset, on the other hand, with an uncouth hypothesis concerning salvation by faith, which he found it impossible to reconcile either with Scripture or common sense. From these well meaning but wrong headed writers, he turned to authors like Beveridge, Nelson, and Jeremy Taylor, by whom his difficulties were, to some extent, relieved; but even these he found interpreting Scripture in different ways, and he was nearly as much confused as ever. After this, he was taught that he ought to interpret the Bible by the general teachings of the ancient church. Adopting this rule, he, for a season, made antiquity a co-ordinate rather than subordinate rule with Scripture, and, by extending his antiquity principle too far, his confusion of mind became greater instead of less. He then became acquainted with the Mystics, whose “noble descriptions of union with God, and internal religion, made everything else appear mean and flat;” yet here again, on reflection, he found that he was wrong. Mysticism was nothing like the religion which Christ and His apostles lived and taught.[244] Thus was this sincere and earnest inquirer after truth led to and fro in a wilderness of perplexing entanglements, until Peter Bohler took him by the hand, and led him as a contrite sinner to the cross of Christ.

Ten days before his conversion, Wesley wrote a somewhat petulant letter to William Law, telling him that he did so in obedience to what he considered the call of God. He informs him that, for two years, he had been preaching after the model of his “Serious Call,” and “Christian Perfection,” and that the[Pg 186] result had been to convince the people that the law of God was holy, but that, when they attempted to fulfil it, they found themselves without power. Wesley declares that he himself was in this state, and might have groaned in it till he died if he had not been directed to Peter Bohler. He then proceeds:—

Wesley then adds that Bohler thought the state of Law to be a dangerous one; and intimates that Bohler’s opinion was of great consequence, because he had the Spirit of God; and finally, he concludes his not too courteous epistle with: “Once more, sir, let me beg you to consider whether your extreme roughness, and morose and sour behaviour, at least on many occasions, can possibly be the fruit of a living faith in Christ?”[245]

This was an uncalled for, rough, morose attack upon a man of the greatest ability, of distinguished though mistaken piety, whose works Wesley had read with the highest admiration,[Pg 187] whose advice Wesley had sought, and who was nearly old enough to be Wesley’s father. Law replied to it in a letter dated May 19, 1738. After some withering sarcasm, in reference to Wesley having written his letter in obedience to the call of God, Law proceeds to say:—

Law continues: “Let me advise you not to be too hasty in believing that because you have changed your language you have changed your faith. The head can as easily amuse itself with a living and justifying faith in the blood of Jesus as with any other notion; and the heart which you suppose to be a place of security, as being the seat of self-love, is more deceitful than the head.”

A lengthened correspondence followed, which Mr. Law concluded thus:—“Who made me your teacher? or can make me answerable for any defects in your knowledge? You sought my acquaintance; you came to me as you pleased, and on what occasion you pleased, and to say to me what you pleased. If it was my business to put this question to you, and if you have a right to charge me with guilt for the neglect of it, may you not much more reasonably accuse them who have authoritatively charge over you? Did the Church in which[Pg 188] you are educated put this question to you? Did the bishop who ordained you either deacon or priest do this for you? Did the bishop who sent you a missionary to Georgia require this of you? Pray, sir, be at peace with me.”[246]

This was a miserable squabble, into which Wesley foolishly rushed, and out of which he came not victorious, but vanquished. It was an unfortunate commencement of a new Christian life, and led to an estrangement between two great and good men, which ought never to have existed. No doubt, the theology of William Law was defective; but to charge him with the guilt of Wesley’s want of faith, and to accuse him of extremely rough, morose, and sour behaviour, was a deplorable outrage against good manners.

But this was not the only unpleasantness which now sprang up. The Moravian movement and the new conversions began to attract great attention and to create some alarm. As might naturally be expected, amid so much excitement, there was a mixture of extravagance. The sister of Mr. Bray dreamed that at night she heard a knock at her door, and on opening it saw a person dressed in white. She asked him who he was, and he answered, “I am Jesus Christ.” She awoke in a fright, but a day or two after was filled with faith, and was commanded by an unseen power to go to Charles Wesley, who was ill, and assure him from Christ of his recovery of soul and body. In a prayer-meeting a Mr. Verding declared that he had just seen, as it were, a whole army rushing by him and bearing the broken body of Christ; a sight which was overpowering, and cast him into a cold sweat. A young man, as he entered St. Dunstan’s church to receive the sacrament, was met by Christ carrying His cross in His hands: and a woman dreamed that a ball of fire fell upon her, and fired her soul. Samuel Wesley, of Tiverton, to whom these things were related, justly deemed them “downright madness;” and, in his anger, went so far as to wish that those “canting fellows,” as he called the Moravians, “who talked of indwellings, experiences, getting into Christ,” etc., had been somewhere else.[247]

[Pg 189]

The chief cause of anxiety, however, arose from Mrs. Hutton’s description of her two lodgers. She relates that, when the two Wesleys returned from Georgia, she received and treated them with the utmost love and tenderness; but John was now “turned a wild enthusiast.” While her husband was reading to a number of people in his study a sermon of Bishop Blackall’s, John Wesley stood up and told the company that, five days ago, he was not a Christian. Mr. Hutton was thunderstruck, and said, “Have a care, Mr. Wesley, how you despise the benefits received by the two sacraments;” but Wesley repeated his declaration, upon which Mrs. Hutton answered, “If you have not been a Christian ever since I knew you, you have been a great hypocrite, for you made us all believe that you were one.” To this Wesley replied that, “When we renounce everything but faith and get into Christ, then, and not till then, have we any reason to believe that we are Christians.”

Mrs. Hutton, in writing an account of all this to Samuel Wesley, adds that her two children had so high an opinion of Wesley’s sanctity and judgment that they were in great danger of being drawn into his “wild notions;” that Wesley had “abridged the life of one Halyburton, a Presbyterian teacher in Scotland,” and that her son had designed to print it, but she and her husband had forbidden him to promote such “rank fanaticism;” and that all his converts were “directed to get an assurance of their sins being pardoned,” and to expect this in “an instant.” She acknowledges that the two Wesleys “are men of great parts and learning;” but they were now under a “strange delusion;” and she entreats their brother Samuel to stop this “wildfire,” if he can.

Samuel Wesley’s reply is dated, “Tiverton, June 17, 1738.” He writes:—

[Pg 190]

Samuel asked his brother what he meant by being made a Christian. John replied:—

The reader will observe here a strange confession, which has seldom, if ever, been noticed. The letter, from which the above is taken, was written October 23, 1738, five months after Wesley’s conversion; and yet he here distinctly states that, as yet, he was not possessed of the witness of the Spirit; but was waiting for it. This is contrary to the commonly received notion, and yet it is in perfect accordance with a[Pg 191] remarkable entry in his journal, under the date of October 14. He there most carefully examines his religious state by comparing it with the text, “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” In many respects, he judged himself a new creature; but, in others, he feared that he was not. Earthly desires often arose within him, though he was enabled to put them under his feet through Christ strengthening him. To some extent, he possessed longsuffering, gentleness, meekness, and temperance; but he had to complain of his want of love, peace, and joy. He writes:—

There is another entry, similar to this, under the date of December 16; and again, on January 4, 1739, he uses even stronger language:—

This is extremely puzzling; but we are bound to give it as we find it. It may be said that Wesley merely says, that “one who had had the form of godliness many years wrote these reflections;” but, comparing them with the two entries under the dates of October 14 and December 16, 1738, and with his letter to his brother Samuel, dated October 30, it would be folly to contend that he was not relating his own experience. The reader must form his own opinion, and grapple with the difficulties, thus presented, as he best can. Wesley acknowledges, in the above extract, that, some months before, he “received such a sense of the forgiveness of his sins as till then he never knew;” and yet here we find him full of doubt, and writing the bitterest things against himself.

Let us pursue his correspondence with his brother Samuel a little farther. Wesley held the doctrine of the Spirit’s witness; though he asserts he did not yet experience it. Samuel, in a letter dated November 15, 1738, asks his brother “whether he will own or disown, in terms, the necessity of a sensible information from God of pardon?”[251] This was not a[Pg 193] fair putting of the question. Wesley had defined the πληροφορια πιστεως, or witness of the Spirit, as “the love of God shed abroad in the heart, producing joy which no man taketh away; joy unspeakable and full of glory:” but his brother here changes the term witness, and what it meant, to the term “sensible information,” that is, information received through the senses, thus connecting with the witness visions and voices, and other Moravian follies at that time rampant.

A fortnight later Wesley replied to this:—

In answer, Samuel, on December 13, declares that his brother misinterprets the witness of the Spirit, and refers him to a sermon of Bishop Bull’s in proof. John replies, that Bishop Bull’s sermon is full of gross perversions of Scripture; and adds: “I find more persons, day by day, who experience a clear evidence of their being in a state of salvation; but I never said this continues equally clear in all, as long as they continue in a state of salvation.”[253]

Samuel’s answer is dated Tiverton, March 26, 1739, in which he argues that the witness of the Spirit is not necessary to salvation; and refers, in proof of this, to the case of baptized infants, and to persons of a gloomy constitution.[254]

Nine days afterwards, Wesley re-asserted that he had seen many persons changed in a moment from the spirit of horror, fear, and despair, to the spirit of hope, joy, and peace; and from sinful desires, till then reigning over them, to a pure desire of doing the will of God. He also knew that this great change, in several persons, had been wrought either in sleep, or during a strong representation, to the eye of their minds, of[Pg 194] Christ, either on the cross, or in glory. He also argues, that his brother’s reference to infants and persons of a gloomy constitution fails to sustain his point; because no kind of assurance is essential to the salvation of infants; and persons of a gloomy constitution, so far from being doomed to die without the assurance, have, to his own certain knowledge, even when almost mad, been brought in a moment into a state of firm, lasting peace and joy.[255]

Other letters might be quoted; but enough has been said to show the views which Wesley now held concerning the witness of the Spirit. He believed the witness was necessary to his own salvation; and, yet, he declares he has it not. He asserts that he has known instances in which it has been granted in dreams; but he does not insist that dreams are an essential medium. The whole affair is puzzling. On May 24, 1738, he “received such a sense of the forgiveness of sins as till then he never knew;” and yet, months afterwards, he declares, in the most explicit terms, that he was now living without the enjoyment of the Spirit’s witness. How is this discrepancy to be explained? Had he lost the sense of forgiveness which he received on May 24? Or was he attaching to the witness of the Spirit a signification too high? If he had not the witness at the beginning of 1739, when did he obtain it afterwards? All these questions will naturally occur to the thoughtful reader; but they are more easily asked than answered.

The simple truth seems to be, that while Wesley heard much among the Moravians that was scriptural, he also heard much that was otherwise; and paid more attention to their experiences, both in England and in Germany, than was desirable, or for his good. His high opinion of the people’s piety made it easy to believe even many of their foolish statements. He got into a labyrinth, and could hardly tell where he was. Months before, he had believed on Christ to the saving of his soul; and yet now he bitterly exclaims that he is not a Christian. He was, for a season, bewildered with the brightness of great truths bursting for the first time on his vision, and with the distracting glare of religious testimonies—new,[Pg 195] but yet earnest and sincere—of great importance, and yet mixed with much that was fanatical and foolish. Out of such a maze this earnest man had to find his way as he best could. We know his subsequent career, and we know the doctrines that he taught. The mists of early education, and the vapours of Moravian imagination, were soon scattered by the bright sunshine which was shed upon him; and in the midst of which, to the end of his career, he was wont to live, and to testify, “The testimony of the Spirit is an inward impression on the soul, whereby the Spirit of God directly witnesses to my spirit that I am a child of God; that Jesus Christ hath loved me, and given Himself for me; and that all my sins are blotted out, and I, even I, am reconciled to God.”[256]

Wesley had been brought into strange communion with Moravians in his voyage to Georgia. At Savannah he had met with Spangenberg. On his return to London he found Bohler, and was induced to become a member of the first Moravian society, founded at Fetter Lane. The rules of that society are before us, entitled, “Orders of a Religious Society meeting in Fetter Lane; in obedience to the command of God by St. James, and by the advice of Peter Boehler, May 1, 1738.” These rules provide for a meeting of the members once a week, to confess their faults one to another, and to pray for one another that they may be healed. A month later, it was agreed that the persons thus meeting in society should be divided into bands, of not fewer than five or more than ten; and that some one in each band should be desired to interrogate the rest, and should be called the leader. Each band was to meet twice a week; every person was to come punctually at the hour appointed; every meeting was to begin and end with singing and prayer; and all the bands were to have a conference every Wednesday night. Any person absenting himself from his band-meeting, without some extraordinary reason, was to be first privately admonished, and if he were absent a second time, to be reproved before the whole society. Any member, desiring or designing to take a journey, was first to have, if possible, the approbation of the bands; and all who were in clubs were requested to[Pg 196] withdraw their names from such associations. Any one desiring to be admitted was to be asked his reasons for this, and whether he would be entirely open, using no kind of reserve, least of all in the case of love or courtship. Every fourth Saturday was to be observed as a day of general intercession, from twelve to two, from three to five, and from six to eight o’clock; and, on one Sunday in every month, a general lovefeast was to be held from seven till ten at night. In order to a continual intercession, every member was to choose some hour, either of the day or night, to spend in prayer, chiefly for his brethren; and, in order to a continual fast, three of the members were to fast every day, Sundays and holidays excepted, and spend as much of the day as possible in retirement from business and in prayer. Each person was to pay to the leader of his band, at least once a month, what he could afford towards the general expenses; and any person not conforming to the rules of the society, after being thrice admonished, was to be expelled.

Naturally enough, Wesley wished to know something more of the singular people with whom he had been brought in contact; and accordingly, three weeks after his conversion, he started for their chief settlement at Herrnhuth, in Germany. One of his companions was his friend Ingham, and another was John Toltschig,[257] one of the first fugitives who fled to Herrnhuth from the fierce persecution in Moravia in 1724.

At Rotterdam, Dr. Koker, a physician, treated them with kindness; but at Gondart several of the inns refused to entertain them, and it “was with difficulty they at last found one which did them the favour to take their money for their meat and drink, and the use of two or three bad beds.”

On June 16, they arrived at Ysselstein, the home of Baron Watteville, who had been a fellow student of Count Zinzendorf, and one of the young gentlemen, at the academy in Halle, who about the year 1717 had formed an association called “The Order of the Grain of Mustard Seed,” the object of which was to promote the conversion of Jews and heathen.

At the time of Wesley’s visit Watteville was at the head of “a few German brethren and sisters, and about eight” English[Pg 197] Moravians, who were living in three or four small houses, till one should be built large enough to contain them all. Wesley and his friends spent a day with them “in hearing the wonderful work which God was beginning to work over all the earth,” and in making prayer to Him, “and giving thanks for the mightiness of His kingdom.”

Proceeding to Amsterdam, Wesley and his companions were received with great courtesy by Mr. Decknatel, a minister of the Mennonists, and Dr. Barkhausen, a Muscovite physician. Here they spent four days, and attended several society meetings, where “the expounding was in high Dutch.”

On Sunday, June 26, they reached Cologne, “the ugliest, dirtiest city” Wesley had ever seen. The cathedral he describes as “mere heaps upon heaps; a huge, misshapen thing, without either symmetry or neatness belonging to it.” Some will doubtless differ from Wesley’s judgment concerning this magnificent though unfinished pile, so venerated for its sanctity, derived from the monkish stories of the reliques of the eleven thousand virgins and of the three eastern kings. Coming out of it, one of Wesley’s companions scrupled to take off his hat as a popish procession passed, when a papist cried, “Knock down the Lutheran dog,” a mandate which would probably have been put into execution if the offender had not made a timely escape from the zealot’s fury.

Embarking on the majestic Rhine, four days and nights were spent in reaching Mayence, the boat in which Wesley travelled being drawn by horses. This, however, gave him ample time to admire the almost unequalled beauties of one of the finest rivers in the world. Arriving faint and weary at Frankfort, they were refused admittance, because they had no passports. It so happened, however, that Peter Bohler’s father was resident in the city; and, by his interposition, they procured an entrance, and were treated in the most friendly manner.

On Tuesday, July 4, they came to Marienborn, (about thirty-five miles from Frankfort,) in the neighbourhood of which Zinzendorf, two years before, had taken up his residence in an old, ruinous castle called Ronneburg, and where he had established schools for poor children, whom he fed and clothed at his own expense. Here also he had formed a missionary congregation, consisting of forty students from Jena, most of[Pg 198] whom became ministers either in Europe or in missions to the heathen.[258] The Moravian family altogether consisted of about ninety persons, all living in a large house rented by Zinzendorf. Here Wesley spent a fortnight, conversing with the brethren in Latin or English, listening to the sermons of the count, and attending conferences and intercession meetings. Writing to his brother Samuel, he says: “God has given me at length the desire of my heart. I am with a church whose conversation is in heaven; in whom is the mind that was in Christ, and who so walks as He walked. As they have all one Lord and one faith, so they are all partakers of one Spirit—the spirit of meekness and love, which uniformly and continually animates all their conversation. I believe, in a week, Mr. Ingham and I shall set out for Herrnhuth, about three hundred and fifty miles hence. Oh pray for us, that God would sanctify to us all those precious opportunities.”[259] It is an odd fact, however, that while Ingham was allowed to partake of the holy communion, Wesley was not, because “the congregation saw him to be homo perturbatus, and that his head had gained an ascendancy over his heart”; and also because “they were desirous not to interfere with his plan of effecting good as a clergyman of the English Church.”[260] Peculiar reasons—but we give them as we find them. Hampson, in his life of Wesley, relates that Zinzendorf, who regarded him as a pupil, ordered him one day to dig in the garden; and after Wesley had been there for some time working in his shirt, and when he was in a high state of perspiration, the lordly count commanded him to enter a carriage that was waiting, to pay a visit to a neighbouring noble. Wesley naturally wished to wash his hands and to put on his coat; but his preceptor forbade him, saying, “You must be simple, my brother!” This was a full answer to all remonstrance, and Wesley was simple enough to obey the mandate of a man who, while professing great humility, sometimes allowed the pretensions of his feudal pride to set aside the meekness of his professed piety.

On the 19th of July, Wesley again set out, and on reaching Weimar was brought before the duke, who asked his object in[Pg 199] journeying to Herrnhuth. Wesley answered, “To see the place where the Christians live;” upon which the duke looked hard, but permitted him to go. On arriving at Halle, “the King of Prussia’s tall men,” who kept the gates, sent him and his friends backwards and forwards, from one gate to another, for nearly two long hours before they were admitted. Here he inspected, with the greatest interest, the Orphan House of August Herman Francke, in which six hundred and fifty children were wholly resident, and three thousand taught. At Leipsig, the gentlemen of the university treated him with respect and kindness. At Meissen, two things surprised him—the extremely beautiful china ware; and the congregation in the church, where the women wore huge fur caps in the shape of Turkish turbans; the men sat with their hats on their heads at the prayers as well as at the sermon, and the parson was decorated with a habit bedecked with gold and scarlet, and with a vast cross on both his back and breast. At Dresden, Wesley was carried from one official to another, with impertinent solemnity, for above two hours, before he was suffered to settle at his inn; and greatly wondered that common sense and common humanity allowed such a senseless, inhuman usage of strangers.

Wesley arrived at the Moravian settlement at Herrnhuth on August 1, and found it consisting of about a hundred houses built on a rising ground. The principal erection was the orphan house, in the lower part of which was the apothecary’s shop, and in the upper the chapel, capable of containing six or seven hundred people. Here he spent nearly the next fortnight.

The day after his arrival, he attended a lovefeast of the married women; and on every day, at eleven, a Bible conference, at which was read a portion of Scripture in the original. He was also present at a conference for strangers, when several questions concerning justification were resolved. He embraced all opportunities of conversing with the most experienced of the brethren, concerning the great work which God had wrought within them; and with the teachers and elders concerning their church discipline.

On the Sunday, after the evening service, all the unmarried women, according to their usual custom, walked round the[Pg 200] town, singing praise, with instruments of music; and then, on a small hill, at a little distance from it, knelt in a circle and joined in prayer; after which they joyously repaired to their respective homes.

Four times Wesley heard Christian David preach, and also received from his own lips his private history. The boyhood of this remarkable man was spent in tending sheep, and his youth and early manhood partly at the carpenter’s bench, and partly in the soldier’s tent. He was a zealous papist, and crawled on his knees before images, performed penances, invoked departed saints, and went the whole round of Romish vagaries. He was twenty years old before he had even seen a Bible; after this, it became nearly the only book he read. The Bible convinced him of the errors of Popery, and he resolved to join the Lutherans. At the age of twenty-seven, he began to preach to his countrymen; numbers were converted by his artless sermons; persecution followed; the converts fled; and Herrnhuth was founded. Christian David continued preaching in Moravia, until his preaching became the topic of conversation in houses, streets, roads, and markets, and the whole country was thrown into a state of great excitement. The people assembled at each other’s houses to sing hymns and to read the Bible. Shepherds chanted the praises of their Redeemer as they kept their flocks; servants at their work talked of nothing but His great salvation; and children on village greens poured out their fervent prayers before Him. Many were imprisoned; others were thrust into cellars and made to stand in water till they were well-nigh frozen; not a few were loaded with irons and obliged to work as convicts; and a whole host were condemned to pay heavy fines. All this arose out of the preaching of the unlettered preacher whom Wesley heard at Herrnhuth,—the Bush Preacher, as he was called by the persecuting priests and jesuits of Moravia,—the man who, five years previous to Wesley’s present visit, conducted the first missionaries to Greenland, and who, though but a poor mechanic, preached to the court of the king of Denmark as he went,—an itinerant evangelist of no mean order, having paid eleven gospel visits to Moravia, three to Greenland, and many others to Denmark, England, and Holland, besides visiting all the Moravian congregations throughout the whole of[Pg 201] Germany,—a man who, when he happened to be at home at Herrnhuth, and not engaged in active services for the church, always followed his trade as a carpenter, and secured the respect and love of both young and old,—a man who often made mistakes, but was always ready to confess his errors when pointed out to him,—deeply devoted to the work of Christ, and living in the closest communion with Him,—shunning no toil, and fearing no danger,—reading the Bible continually, and never tiring of its precious truths,—his sermons wanting in polish, but not in power,—for more than thirty years an itinerant, out-door German preacher,—and who in 1751, at the age of sixty, went triumphantly to heaven.[261]

Such was the preaching mechanic whom Wesley, the scholar and the priest, embraced every opportunity of hearing during his Herrnhuth visit,—a fair specimen of scores in England whom Wesley, during the next half-century, employed in the same glorious work. The philosopher may sneer at the sight of one of the most distinguished fellows of Lincoln College sitting in the Herrnhuth chapel and in the carpenter’s cottage, to be taught by a man like this; but let it be remembered that while the Oxford student, in letters, was immeasurably superior to the German mechanic, the German mechanic was as much superior to the Oxford student in the science of saving truth; and besides that, he spoke not only from clear convictions, but from personal experience. Even now many a man, profoundly learned in languages and in philosophy, might receive knowledge more important than any he already has, if he would condescend to imitate Wesley’s example, and stoop to be taught by some poor itinerating preacher, who, though a wayfaring man, and in all other things a fool, is yet “wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.”

The four sermons which Wesley heard Christian David preach were peculiarly appropriate to his present religious state. It is a notable fact, however, that instead of instructing Wesley to expect the witness of the Spirit immediately, he taught him “that many are children of God and heirs of the promises, long before they are comforted by the abiding[Pg 202] witness of the Spirit, melting their souls into all gentleness and meekness; and much more before they are pure in heart from all self-will and sin.” Christian David told Wesley, in private, that he had “the forgiveness of sins, and a measure of the peace of God, for many years before he had that witness of the Spirit which shut out all doubt and fear.” This is not Wesleyan doctrine; but it was the doctrine which Wesley was taught in Germany, and which helped to keep him in that doubting and fearing state in which we have already seen him.

Wesley elicited the religious experience of Michael Linner, the oldest member of the church, which was to the effect that Michael believed to the saving of his soul two years before he received the full assurance of faith; though he admitted that the more usual method is for the Holy Spirit “to give, in one and the same moment, the forgiveness of sins, and a full assurance of that forgiveness.” David Nitschmann, one of the four public teachers of the Herrnhuth community, told Wesley that, for years after he was delivered from the bondage of sin, he was troubled with doubts and fears. Martin Döber stated: “It is common for persons to receive justification through faith in the blood of Christ before they receive the full assurance of faith, which God many times withholds till He has tried whether they will work together with Him in the use of the first gift.” Augustine Neusser said he could not tell the hour or day when he first received the full assurance that his sins were pardoned; for it was not given at once, but grew within him by degrees. David Schneider’s experience was substantially the same; but it is right to add, that the experience of others was of a brighter kind, and confirmative of the scriptural doctrine that, when sins are forgiven, the Spirit, at the same moment, gives the assurance of it.

Wesley eagerly listened to the recital of these religious experiences at Herrnhuth, and became bewildered; and hence those puzzling declarations concerning his own religious state, even down to the beginning of 1739, which have been already given. The truth is, both Wesley and the Moravians seemed to confound the doctrine of the Spirit’s witness with the doctrine of sanctification. Because they were not, for a season, wholly sanctified, they declare that they had not the witness[Pg 203] of the Spirit or the full assurance of faith. The following, for instance, is Arvid Gradin’s description of that witness or assurance: “Repose in the blood of Christ; a firm confidence in God, and persuasion of His favour; serene peace and steadfast tranquillity of mind, with a deliverance from every fleshly desire, and from every outward and inward sin.” This is a beautiful description of what the Methodists mean by entire sanctification; but Wesley, taught by the Herrnhuth Moravians, confounded it, for a time, with what he called “the witness of the Spirit,—full assurance of faith;” the result being the use of language, in reference to himself, quite sufficient to perplex the modern Methodist, who, without paying attention to these Moravian facts, contents himself with merely comparing the lucid language of Wesley’s sermons with the confused and confusing language of those parts of Wesley’s journal to which we are now adverting.

Wesley spent nearly a fortnight among the Herrnhuth Christians. He writes:—“I would gladly have spent my life here. Oh when shall this Christianity cover the earth, as the waters cover the sea?” The population was divided into about ninety bands, each of which met twice at least, but most of them three times, a week, to “confess their faults one to another, and to pray for one another that they might be healed.” The rulers of the church had a conference every week, purely concerning the state of souls; and another every day on the outward matters of the church. Once a week, there was a conference for strangers; at which any one might be present, and propose questions or doubts which he desired to have resolved. The children and young people were taught reading, writing, arithmetic, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, English, history, and geography. Every morning at eight, the community had singing, Scripture exposition, and commonly short prayer; and the same at eight in the evening, concluding each service with the kiss of peace. On Sundays, service began at six; at nine, they had public worship at Bertholdsdorf; at one, the members of the church were divided into fourteen classes, to each of which was addressed a separate exhortation; at four, there was service again at Bertholdsdorf; and at eight, the usual nightly service; after which the young men went round the town singing songs of praise; and thus[Pg 204] the day was ended. On the first Saturday of every month, the Lord’s supper was administered: when, from ten till two, the eldest spoke with each communicant in private, concerning his or her spiritual experience; at two, they dined, and then washed one another’s feet; after which they sung and prayed; about ten at night, they received the communion in silence without any ceremony; and continued without speaking, till midnight, when they parted. The second Saturday was occupied as the solemn prayer-day for the children. The third was a day of general intercession and thanksgiving. And the fourth was the great monthly conference of all the superiors of the church. For the last eleven years, they had kept up a perpetual intercession, which had never ceased day or night, by different companies spending in succession an hour every day in prayer for themselves and for other churches. Marriage was highly reverenced, and no young people were allowed to be affianced without being placed for a time with married persons, who instructed them how to behave in their contemplated new relation. Casting lots was used both in public and private, to decide points of importance, when the reasons on each side appeared to be of equal weight. The time usually spent in sleep was from eleven at night till four in the morning; three hours a day were allowed for meals; leaving sixteen for work and sacred services.

Such was Herrnhuth in 1738, the cradle of the modern Moravian church,—the Jerusalem of the United Brethren. At present it has about a thousand inhabitants, is well built, well paved, and scrupulously clean; having in its centre a large square, in which stands the hall for worship, at the original consecration of which Zinzendorf offered the striking prayer, “May God prevent this house standing longer than it continues to be a dwelling place of love and peace to the praise of the Redeemer!” On one side of the square is what was once the residence of Zinzendorf, now the depôt of Moravian archives; on another, the house of the unmarried brethren; and on a third, the village inn, the property of the community. Connection with the brotherhood, except in special cases conceded by their church authorities, is a condition of residence in the town; and up to 1848, by the laws of Saxony, any one who forsook the faith could be compelled to sell what[Pg 205]ever property he had within its boundaries. This is now altered, and the only compulsion that can be exercised is of a moral character. Still, even yet, with the exception of the government officials, and a few privileged individuals, the entire community are members of the Moravian church. Here sprang up that wondrous brotherhood, which, whilst other churches were surrendering the great doctrines of the cross, devoted its life and energies to their world-wide propagation, and, with a faith which to some seemed presumption, and a love which approached to the character of a reverential friendship, went among slumbering peoples and savage races, insisting on the necessity of personal faith in a personal Redeemer, and declaring that life in Christ is the highest life of man.[262]

Wesley left Herrnhuth on August 12, and reached London on Saturday, September 16. He at once resumed his work by preaching thrice the next day, and afterwards expounding in the Minories. On Monday, he rejoiced to meet with the Moravian society at Fetter Lane, which had increased from ten members to thirty-two; and, on Tuesday, he went to the condemned felons in Newgate, and preached to them a free salvation.

A month subsequent to his return, he wrote as follows to his Herrnhuth friends:—

There are three facts in the above quotation which deserve notice:—1. That Wesley was thoroughly identified with the London Moravians. 2. That there were other clergymen besides himself who were evangelical. 3. That he still retained his high church nonsense, and made a difference between Church of England “ministers,” and Anabaptist and Presbyterian “teachers.” This last was pitiable folly, perhaps not to be wondered at, and yet deserving to be despised.

About the same time, Wesley wrote to Zinzendorf at Marienborn, thanking him and his countess for their kindness, and then adding:—

The last sentence requires explanation. Notwithstanding his general admiration of the German Moravians, their sun[Pg 207] was not without spots, for there were sundry things with which Wesley was not satisfied. What were they? Wesley himself shall answer. The following is an unfinished letter, written to the Moravians at Marienborn and Herrnhuth, a few days only after Wesley’s return from Germany, but which was never sent:—

These were weighty accusations, and will claim attention hereafter.

Within five weeks after Wesley had returned from Germany, he and his brother Charles waited upon Dr. Edmund Gibson, Bishop of London, to answer the complaints he had heard against them, to the effect that they preached an absolute assurance of salvation. Gibson was a man of great natural abilities, a laborious student, and also pious; but he was occasionally betrayed into intolerance, and sometimes evinced more zeal for the rights of the Church than discretion. So great was his ecclesiastical power, that Sir Robert Walpole was accustomed to be reproached with allowing him the authority of a pope: “And a very good pope he is,” replied the premier. The two Wesleys being introduced to him, he said, “If by assurance you mean an inward persuasion, whereby a man is conscious in himself, after examining his life by the law of God, and weighing his own sincerity, that he is in a state of salvation, and acceptable to God, I don’t see how any good Christian can be without such assurance.” The Wesleys meant more by “assurance” than this; but the doctrine, so far as it went, was one which they themselves[Pg 208] preached. The next point discussed was the charge that they were Antinomians, because they preached justification by faith only. To this they replied, “Can any one preach otherwise, who agrees to our church and the Scriptures?” A third charge was that they had administered baptism to persons dissatisfied with the lay baptism which they had already received. Wesley answered, with more high church bigotry than scriptural enlightenment, that “if a person dissatisfied with lay baptism,” or, in other words, Dissenters’ baptism, “should desire episcopal, he should think it his duty to administer it.” Wesley next inquired of his lordship if “his reading in a religious society made it a conventicle;” and whether “religious societies are conventicles.” To the latter question the bishop answered, “I think not; but I determine nothing;” and he recommended them to read the acts and laws on the subject for themselves. They then requested that he would not, in future, receive an accusation against them, but at the mouth of two or three witnesses. He said, “No, by no means; and you may have free access to me at all times.” They thanked his lordship, and departed.[266]

This was the first muttering of the storm soon to burst upon them. William Warburton was not yet a bishop, but he was already a vigorous and well known writer, and rector of Brand Broughton, in Lincolnshire. This hot-headed parson was one of the first to fall foul upon the poor Methodists. Writing to Des Maizeaux, in 1738, he says:—

In another letter, written in the same year to Dr. Birch, he says:—

[Pg 209]

Such are specimens of the foul falsehoods which malignant men already circulated concerning Wesley and his companions. But, besides this, the Methodist movement began to be noticed by the pulpit. The Rev. Tipping Silvester, M.A., Fellow of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Lecturer of St. Bartholomew the Great, London, preached a sermon on regeneration before the university of Oxford, at St. Mary’s, on February 26, which, without mentioning the names of the Methodist leaders, was evidently meant to be an antidote to one of their distinguished doctrines. The sermon was published, 8vo, twenty-eight pages, and on the title page was “recommended to the religious societies.” The chief point in the sermon is that infants are born again in baptism.

Another sermon, on “The Doctrine of Assurance,” was delivered on August 13, in the church of St. Lawrence Jewry, by the Rev. Arthur Bedford, M.A., chaplain to his royal highness Frederick Prince of Wales. This also, with an appendix, was published, 8vo, thirty-nine pages, and had an extensive circulation. It was avowedly intended to refute the doctrine of “those who had of late asserted that they who are not assured of their salvation, by a revelation from the Holy Ghost, are in a state of damnation.” The preacher argues that this assurance “is given to very few, and perhaps only to such whom God calls either to extraordinary services, or to extraordinary sufferings.” He further argues that to profess to have received such an assurance savours of spiritual pride, and cannot but produce bad results.

These were the first sermons published against the doctrines of Methodism, and both of them were extremely temperate when compared with others following.

At the end of the year 1738, Wesley drew up a set of rules for the regulation of the Moravian band societies, some of[Pg 210] which were certainly more inquisitive than wise. Eleven questions, to be proposed to candidates for admission, were, upon the whole, unexceptionable; but five others, to be asked of every member at every weekly meeting, savour far too much of the popish confessional to be admired. We give them as an indication of the still unhealthy tone of Wesley’s piety:—

“1. What known sins have you committed since our last meeting?

“2. What temptations have you met with?

“3. How were you delivered?

“4. What have you thought, said, or done, of which you doubt whether it be sin or not?

“5. Have you nothing you desire to keep secret?”[268]

No doubt, such questions were put with the best intentions; but the thing looked like a prurient prying into secrets which properly belong alone to a man and his Maker.

The whole of Wesley’s publications, during 1738, have been already noticed, except “A Collection of Psalms and Hymns,” eighty-four pages, 12mo. This small volume was published without the name of either printer or author; but it contains ample internal evidence of its origin. Its publication was contemplated immediately after Wesley’s return from Georgia; and hence the following extract from a letter written by Dr. Byrom to Charles Wesley, on the 3rd of March, 1738.

[Pg 211]

The book was probably intended for the use of the Moravian bands and other religious societies’ meetings in London, with which Wesley was more or less connected. It contains seventy psalms and hymns; but it is a remarkable fact that not one of them seems to have been written by Wesley’s brother Charles. One each is contributed by Addison, Dryden, and Lord Roscommon. One is from the Church liturgy, and one anonymous. Three are by Bishop Ken; four by Norris; six by Herbert; thirteen by Tate and Brady; thirty-three by Watts; and six are translations by Wesley himself. The book was never reprinted; but it formed the basis of another hymn-book, published three years after, in which exactly one-half of its psalms and hymns were embodied.[270] It was the first[271] of about forty hymnologies published by the two brothers during the next half-century, and which, as priceless gems, were scattered broadcast among the first Methodists.

With Wesley’s first hymn-book we close the first section of his history.

LONDON in 1739 was widely different from what it is at present. The population, including Westminster and all the parishes within the Bills of Mortality, was about 600,000, or a fifth of the population now. London Bridge was the only highway across the majestic Thames that the Londoners possessed; and that was covered with antique houses, from end to end, forming a sort of picturesque extension of Gracechurch Street, from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore,—a narrow, darksome, and dangerous thoroughfare with an arched gateway at each end of it, generally bristling with spikes, and often adorned with the heads of traitors. The site of the present Mansion House was a fruit market, having on one side of it a row of shady trees and on the other a conduit, surmounted by an equestrian statue of King Charles II. Islington, Hoxton, Hackney, and Bethnal Green were country villages. On the Surrey side, all beyond the King’s Bench prison was fields and open country. The Elephant and Castle stands where the small hamlet of Newington then stood. Walworth, Camberwell, Brixton, Peckham, and Clapham were rural haunts, far from the hum and noise of the great city. Even Lambeth was a vast conglomerated garden, extending from Kennington Common to what is now Westminster Bridge. Eastward—Blackwall, Poplar, Bow, and Stepney were somewhat distant collections of scattered houses, surrounded respectively by fields and gardens. Westward—Chelsea, Knightsbridge, Marylebone, and Tottenham Court were all in open country. Even Belgravia was a farm of arable and pasture land; while all the space, between Westminster and what is now Vauxhall Bridge, was a dreary tract of stunted, dusty, trodden grass, the resort of badger[Pg 214]baiters and other rampant blackguards, and known by the name of Tothill Fields.

Moorfields, the scene of Wesley’s earliest evangelistic labours, and where he opened his Foundery meeting-house, was what would now-a-days be called a park, laid out in grass plots, intersected by broad gravel walks, and the favourite resort of citizens seeking exercise and recreation. Beneath a row of well grown elms was what the promenaders designated “the city mall,” and which in the smartness of its company often rivalled the mall of St. James’s Park. Here might be seen wives and daughters flaunting in all their finery and displaying their charms to city maccaronis, whose hats were cocked diagonally, and who gave themselves quite as many airs as the aristocratic coxcombs in the royal grounds. Under the trees were booths, whose fans, toys, trinkets, and confectionery found ready purchasers; while on the grass plots were erected mountebank diversions for the amusement of the people.

What a contrast between London then and London now! And yet, even then, London was thought to be dangerously too large. An able writer, in one of the magazines for 1762, argued that great cities are perilous to a nation’s welfare; and in proof quoted Nineveh, Babylon, Persepolis, Tyre, Carthage, Rome, Athens, Memphis, Baalbec, Palmyra, Thebes, Jerusalem, etc. He contended that it was pernicious policy to suffer the eighth part of an entire nation to live in one crowded town; for when so many myriads lived on ground which produced nothing they were under the necessity of living by their wits—that is, by sharping and over-reaching, and by inventing idle and vicious amusements. Hence it was that in London there was such a multiplication of playhouses, operas, ridottos, and masquerades; and that almost one-half of some of the London parishes was converted into brothels by bawds and pimps. The anonymous alarmist was doubtless treated with contempt, but his theory deserves attention.

London was great, but it was wicked. And no wonder. Riches in the case of nations, as in the case of individuals, often lead to extravagance and luxury. Thus it was in England, in the reign of the second George. Superb edifices[Pg 215] rose up on every hand, almost vieing with the palaces of princes. Carriages, glittering with gold and crystal, rattled over city pavements with the utmost ostentation. Ridottos, balls, masquerades, and midnight banquets, were of constant occurrence. Every night innumerable lamps illuminated public gardens, where hosts of fashionable and licentious fops might be seen lolling in gilded alcoves, killing time, and lulling their senses into an indolent oblivion. Arrayed in masks and the strangest dresses, gamblers, actors, and prostitutes mingled with persons of riches and of rank, and, amid the din of music and of dancing, conversed obscene discourse, and whispered indecent slanders. All classes caught the contagion, and even the tables of shopkeepers and mechanics were covered with costly dainties. Clerks and apprentices, servant-maids and cooks, decked themselves in apparel equal to that of their masters and mistresses; and finical sparks deemed it their privilege and right to frequent taverns, clubs, and theatres, adorned with the finest clothes, perukes, and jewellery.

What resulted from all this? Extravagance created greater wants than the people had means to meet. Patrimonial estates, and the gains of honest business were not enough to satisfy newly engendered appetites; and hence men appealed to an infernal sorceress, to correct, forsooth, the errors made in distributing the gifts of Providence. To eke out means which were found too scanty to gratify licentious and luxurious passions, robbery was made polite, and gambling an every day duty. Idleness threw the dice, and Folly built them into castles; Avarice clutched at gold, but Fraud, with a sly and quick conveyance, snatched it from his hand. Even ladies laid wagers at home, while their lords gambled abroad; and dice began to rattle on the costermonger’s barrow as well as upon the hazard tables of the noble and the rich. Money was looked upon as omnipotent; and the more men got the more they wanted, and especially when it was spent upon their own indulgences. An avaricious, mercenary spirit became general, and chiefly for the sake of vain display and sensual pleasures.

Poverty treads in the footsteps of extravagance. There were more equipages kept, and yet more taxes for the poor[Pg 216] imposed; more diversions, and yet more want; more ladies of taste, and yet fewer housewives; more pomp, and yet less hospitality; more expense, and yet less frugality. In 1744, the grand jury of the county of Middlesex made a presentment to the effect, that “the advertisements in the newspapers were seducing the people to places for the encouragement of luxury, extravagance, and idleness; and that, by this means, families were ruined, and the kingdom dishonoured; and that, unless some superior authority put a stop to such riotous living, they feared it would lead to the destruction of the nation.”

The town abounded with men who regarded honour, honesty, and virtue as the merest phantoms;—men with whom promises were not binding, obligations were nullities, and impudence a duty;—dastards who might slander their neighbours, ridicule their superiors, be saucy to their equals, insolent to their inferiors, and abusive to all; to-day spaniels, to-morrow bullies, and at all times cowards; to whom learning was a burden, and books were baubles; vice being their delight, and virtue their aversion; demons in disguise, all order and symmetry without, and yet all rancour and rottenness within.

The country was an apt imitator of the vices of the town. There the squire, having, by idleness and bad company, forgotten the little learning he acquired at college, too often devoted himself to drinking and debauchery; while the common people were ignorant, superstitious, brutal, and bad behaved. Workmen entered into combinations to extort higher wages than their labour merited, or than their masters could afford; and even parliament had to pass enactments limiting the salaries of tailors. Smuggling was enormous; and, in 1744, it was calculated that, in the county of Suffolk only, not fewer than 4,500 horses were employed in carrying merchandise of a contraband character.

This dark picture might easily be enlarged, not from posterior writings, or even from the religious publications of the period, but from periodicals, magazines, and newspapers, which had no temptation to represent the customs, manners, usages, and vices of the age in a worse aspect than was warranted by facts. Wesley, as will be seen hereafter, used strong and startling language; but there is nothing in Wesley’s[Pg 217] writings which exceeds the hideous delineations found in the popular literature published contemporaneously by other impartial and mere worldly writers, who are above suspicion. The Weekly Miscellany for 1732 broadly asserts that the people were engulfed in voluptuousness and business; and that a zeal for godliness looked as odd upon a man as would the antiquated dress of his great grandfather. It states that freethinkers were formed into clubs, to propagate their tenets, and to make the nation a race of profligates; and that atheism was scattered broadcast throughout the kingdom. It affirms that it was publicly avowed that vice was profitable to the state; that the country would be benefited by the establishment of public stews; and that polygamy, concubinage, and even sodomy were not sinful.

In many respects the reign of the second George bore a striking resemblance to the present day. There was unexampled wealth, followed by luxury, display, dissipation, gambling, irreligion, and wickedness. The pastoral letters of Bishop Gibson, published at this period, show that most pernicious efforts were put forth to undermine religion, and to make men infidels. One class of writers laboured to set aside all Christian ordinances, the Christian ministry, and a Christian church. Another so allegorized the meaning of the miracles of Christ, as to take away their reality. Others displayed the utmost zeal for natural religion in opposition to revealed; and all, or most, under the pretence of pleading for the liberties of men, ran into the wildest licentiousness. Reason was recommended as a full and sufficient guide in matters of religion, and the Scriptures were to be believed only as they agreed or disagreed with the light of nature.

The same causes give birth to the same effects. Things reproduce themselves. The words of Solomon are as truthful now as when he wrote them,—“The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.”

By reviving religion, Methodism saved the nation more than a hundred years ago; and now that the nation presents the same aspect, to a great extent, as it presented then, and is threatened with the same disasters, is it not certain that nothing but an agency analogous to the Methodism then[Pg 218] raised up will be found sufficient to check the progress of antiquated errors now revived; to stem the aboundings of licentiousness; and to make men feel that wealth is given, not to be spent in display and luxury, but in honouring God, and in promoting the happiness of the human race?

The revival of religion, which occurred about the time when Methodism commenced its marvellous career, was a world-wide one.

The Moravian movement in Germany has been already noticed.

In America, the work began in 1729, the very year in which the Oxford Methodists formed their first society. The Rev. Jonathan Edwards fanned the fire into a holy flame by preaching the grand old doctrine of “justification by faith alone.” In the town of Northampton, New England, containing two hundred families, there was scarcely a single person at the beginning of the year 1735 who was not deeply convinced of sin, and earnestly seeking salvation; and from day to day, for months, there were undeniable instances of genuine conversion. Almost every house was a house of prayer, and, in all companies, Christ was the theme of public conversation. The revival which commenced at Northampton spread throughout the greater part of the colony. All sorts of people,—high and low, rich and poor, wise and unwise, moral and immoral,—simultaneously became the subjects of the Spirit’s strivings, and were converted. This remarkable movement took place only a few months before Wesley set sail for Georgia, and continued for several years afterwards. Mr. Edwards published a narrative of its most striking incidents; and also his “Thoughts” as to “the way in which it ought to be acknowledged and promoted;” and from these two invaluable treatises we collect the following facts.

In many instances, conviction of sin and conversion were attended with intense physical excitement. Numbers fell prostrate on the ground, and cried aloud for mercy. The bodies of others were convulsed and benumbed. As chaos preceded creation, so in New England confusion went before conversion. The work was great and glorious, but was accompanied with noise and tumult. Men literally cried for mercy; but the loudest outcries were not so loud as the shrieks of[Pg 219] Voltaire or Volney, when the prospect of eternity unmanned them. Stout-hearted sinners trembled; but not more than philosophers at the present day would do, if they had equally vivid views of the torments of the damned to which sin exposes them. There were groanings and faintings; transports and ecstasies; zeal sometimes more fervid than discreet; and passion not unfrequently more powerful than pious; but, from one end of the land to the other, multitudes of vain thoughtless sinners were unmistakably converted, and were made new creatures in Christ Jesus. Frolicking, night walking, singing lewd songs, tavern haunting, profane speaking, and extravagance in dress, were generally abandoned. The talk of the people was about the favour of God, an interest in Christ, a sanctified heart, and spiritual blessedness here and hereafter. The country was full of meetings of persons of all sorts and ages to read, pray, and sing praises. Oftentimes the people were wrought up into the highest transports of love, joy, and admiration, and had such views of the Divine perfections, and the excellencies of Christ, that, for five or six hours together, their souls reposed in a kind of sacred elysium, until the body seemed to sink beneath the weight of Divine discoveries, and nature was deprived of all ability to stand or speak. Connected with all this, there were no enthusiastic impulses, or supposed revelations, but trembling reverence, the mildest meekness, and warmest charity. To use Edwards’ own language, “The New Jerusalem, in this respect, had begun to come down from heaven, and perhaps never were more of the prelibations of heaven’s glory given upon earth.”

Of course there were men who opposed and maligned this blessed work of God’s Holy Spirit; or, at all events, did their utmost to discredit it by exposing, as they thought, the infirmities of those who were the chief agents used in promoting it. Ministers were blamed for their earnestness in voice and gesture, and for addressing themselves rather to the passions of their hearers than their reason. Others were censured for preaching the terrors of the law too frequently, and for frightening the people with hell-fire discourses. Objections were raised against so much time being spent in religious meetings; though the objectors had been significantly silent when the selfsame persons had formerly spent[Pg 220] quite as much time, and even more, in taverns, and in sinful pleasures. Some were disgusted at the new converts so passionately warning, inviting, and entreating others to be saved. Some found fault with so much singing, forgetting that singing is one of the great employments of the beatified in heaven; and others found equal fault with children being allowed to meet together to read and pray, thus, unintentionally perhaps, resembling the priests and scribes, who were sore displeased when the children saluted Christ by shouting “Hosannah in the highest!” Thus did men mutter discontent when they ought to have sung praises; and not a few fell into the sin of those in olden times, who said concerning Christ, “He casteth out devils by Beelzebub, the prince of devils.”

At the very time that this marvellous religious revival broke out in America, a similar work was begun in Wales. Howel Harris was born at Trevecca in 1714, and, a few months before the Wesleys went to Georgia, found the forgiveness of sins, and was made unutterably happy by a Divine assurance of his adoption into the family of God. The Wesleys, however, had no acquaintance with him, nor he with them. While they were on the ocean he left his home in Wales, and entered the university from which they had so recently departed; but here he was so distressed with collegiate immoralities, that, after keeping but a single term, he returned to his native hills, and, without orders, began at once to preach the salvation which he himself experienced. It is a curious fact, not generally noticed, that the first lay preacher, in the great Methodist movement, was Howel Harris. He commenced preaching in Wales just when the Wesleys and Ingham commenced in Georgia; and, before Wesley reached Bristol in 1739, had been the means of a most glorious work being wrought in the neighbouring principality. Up to this period the morals of the Welsh were deplorably corrupt; and in this respect there was no difference between rich and poor, ministers and people; gluttony, drunkenness, and licentiousness were general. In the pulpits of parish churches the name of Christ was hardly ever uttered; and, in 1736, there were only six Dissenting chapels throughout the whole of northern Wales.

[Pg 221]

Harris first commenced visiting from house to house in his own native parish, and in neighbouring ones. Then the people flocked together, and, almost without knowing it, he began to preach. The magistrates and clergy threatened him; but their threats failed to silence him. For a maintenance, he set up a school, and meantime continued preaching. Numbers were convinced of sin, and these the young preacher, only twenty-two years of age, formed into small societies analogous to those of which he had read in Dr. Woodward’s History. At the end of 1737, persecuting malice ejected him from his school; but, as in other instances so in this, it overshot its mark; for this, instead of silencing the preacher, made him preach more than ever. He now gave himself entirely to the work of an evangelist, and henceforth generally delivered three or four, and sometimes five or six, sermons every day to crowded congregations. A wide-spread reformation followed. Public diversions became unfashionable, and religion became the theme of common conversation. A few began to help him, of whom the venerable Rev. Griffith Jones was the most prominent. In 1737, this devoted clergyman instituted his movable free schools; and a letter published in the Glasgow Weekly History, of 1742, describes him as “one of the most excellent preachers in Great Britain.” Not a few of the teachers in his peripatetic schools became Methodist preachers; and certainly their travels as instructors, as well as his own preaching tours, prepared the way for the Methodist itinerant ministry.

Thus was Howel Harris an itinerant preacher at least a year and a half before Whitefield and Wesley were; and, as the brave-hearted herald of hundreds more who were to follow after him, he met the fiercest persecutions with an undaunted soul and an unflinching face. Parsons and country squires menaced him, and mobs swore and flung stones and sticks at him; but he calmly pursued his way, labouring almost alone in his own isolated sphere until he met with Whitefield in the town of Cardiff, in 1739. Whitefield says he found him “a burning and shining light; a barrier against profanity and immorality; and an indefatigable promoter of the gospel of Christ. During the last three years, he had preached almost twice every day, for three or four hours[Pg 222] together; and, in his evangelistic tours, had visited seven counties, and had established nearly thirty societies; and still his sphere of action was enlarging daily.”

Almost contemporaneous with this marvellous work across the Atlantic and in Wales, was another across the Tweed, in Scotland. The facts following are taken from “A Faithful Narrative, written by James Robe, A.M., Minister of the Gospel at Kilsyth,” and printed in 1742.

For years past, there had been a sensible decay in the life and power of godliness in Scotland; but, in 1740, Mr. Robe began to preach upon the doctrine of regeneration. Meanwhile, a glorious revival of the work of God occurred at Cambuslang; and, on April 25, 1741, at Kilsyth. Sixteen children began to hold prayer-meetings in the town of Kirkintilloch, and the godly excitement became general. On every hand were heard cries, groans, and the voice of weeping. On the 16th of May, above thirty persons were awakened under the ministry of Mr. Robe, and, in a short time after, hundreds were converted in the country round about. Drunkenness, and swearing, and other flagrant sins were instantly abandoned; family worship was set up; meetings for prayer were established; and the people generally flocked to the house of God. Young converts held prayer-meetings in fields, barns, schoolhouses, and the manses of their ministers. Cambuslang, Kilsyth, Campsie, Kirkintilloch, Auchinloch, St. Ninians, Gargunnock, Calder, Badernock, Irvine, Long Dreghorn, Kilmarnock, Larbert, Dundee, Bothwell, Muthill, Edinburgh, Glasgow, and other towns, villages, and parishes were visited with a most gracious outpouring of God’s Holy Spirit; and scenes of mercy were witnessed quite as striking as those which were occurring simultaneously both in England and America. Not a few of the converts, about one sixth of the whole, suffered such distress of mind, and were under such powerful religious influence, that they not only cried and shrieked aloud, but trembled, fainted, and were convulsed in their bodies most mysteriously—exhibiting the same physical affections as the converts in New England; and this evoked considerable opposition, and led the Associate Presbytery at Dunfermline, to pronounce the movement a “delusion, and the work of the grand deceiver.” Some were[Pg 223] seized with such trembling that their friends had to render them support. Many of the females went into hysterics. Numbers, on finding peace, broke forth into rapturous weeping, and had their countenances so lit up with serenity and brightness, that their neighbours declared they had obtained not only new hearts, but new faces. A few, but not many, professed to have visions of hell, of heaven, of the devil, and of Jesus.

The writer gives these facts as he finds them. Mr. Robe, in his narrative, extending over hundreds of pages, endeavours to show that such effects were not without precedents, and quotes a great number of similar instances which had occurred, in different places, from the time of the Reformation downwards. It is no part of our purpose either to explain, justify, or condemn them. We shall shortly find the same kind of effects following the preaching of Wesley in England. At present, the reader is merely reminded of the wondrous and glorious fact, that the great Methodist revival of religion, begun in 1739, stood not alone; for God, in His sovereign mercy, was working works quite as great in Germany, America, and Scotland. The revival in Germany gave birth to the heroic, martyr-like Moravian church. That in America greatly prepared the way for Whitefield, and for the first Methodist missionaries to that huge continent. That in Scotland revived the almost expiring piety of the kirk across the border; and, doubtless, greatly contributed to the devout and increasing energy and zeal evinced by the different churches there from that day to this. And that in Wales has issued in results equally remarkable. God the Spirit is omnipresent, and can give a universal revival of truth and godliness as easily as a local one. It is, also, a significant fact, of vast importance, that the whole of these great revivals were begun by preaching the same kind of truth. Christian David, the carpenter, begun the work in Moravia by preaching the doctrine of salvation by simple faith in Christ; and so did Jonathan Edwards in America. The revival at Kilsyth sprang out of Mr. Robe’s sermons on regeneration; and no one need be told that these were the doctrines which formed the staple of Wesley’s and Whitefield’s sermons in Great Britain. This is the truth pre-eminently needed by[Pg 224] man, in all ages, and in all lands; and this is the truth which, wherever preached, is always honoured, by being made the means of man’s salvation.

At the close of the year 1738, Wesley was almost uniformly excluded from the pulpits of the Established Church. During the whole of 1739, the only churches in which he was allowed to preach, were Basingshaw, Islington, St. Giles’, and St. Katherine’s churches, London; and the churches at Dummer, Clifton, Runwick, and St. Mary’s in Exeter. The first two months of the year were spent in the metropolis; but, with the exception of expounding in a few private houses, Wesley had to content himself with preaching not more than half-a-dozen sermons. In the month of March, he set out for Oxford, and wrote the following hitherto unpublished letter to his friend Whitefield. The letter is long, but full of interest.

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Thus did the expelled minister employ his time and energies. The churches were shut against him; but he found work in cottages. Half-a-dozen sermons in church pulpits in three months! No wonder that Wesley escaped to Bristol. Silence to such a man was intolerable. Priests and their parasites had gagged him in the metropolis, and he now started for a new sphere of labour.

His friend Whitefield, during the first five weeks of the year, was more fortunate, and managed to preach about thirty sermons in consecrated edifices in and about London. How long this permission might have lasted, it is difficult to determine; but, at the beginning of February, Whitefield, like a flaming seraph, set off to Bath and Bristol. Perhaps his departure thither was hastened by a fracas which occurred only three days before at St. Margaret’s, Westminster, where he yielded to the pressure of the crowd, and preached, despite the opposition of the minister and his church officers.[272] Be that as it may, the news of the disturbance, published in the Weekly Miscellany, got to the west of England before him; and, on his arrival, all the churches were closed against him. In a few days, however, Mr. Penrose granted him the pulpit of St. Werburgh’s; and Mr. Gibbs the pulpit of St. Mary Redcliff. The chancellor of Bristol interfered, and threatened that, if he continued to preach or expound in the diocese without licence, he should first be suspended and then expelled. This was the turning point. To muzzle Whitefield[Pg 227] was impossible; and hence, being shut out of the Bristol churches, away he went, on February 17, and preached, in the open air, to two hundred colliers at Kingswood. This was the boldest step that any of the Methodists had yet taken; and perhaps none of them but the impulsive, large-hearted Whitefield would have had sufficient courage to be the first in such a shocking departure from Church rules and usages. The Rubicon was passed. A clergyman had dared to be so irregular as to preach in the open air, and God had sanctioned the irregularity by making it a blessing. At the second Kingswood service, Whitefield says he had two thousand people to hear him; and at the third, four thousand; while, at the fifth service, the four thousand were increased to ten. These were marvellous crowds to assemble out of doors in the bleak months of February and March. No wonder that Whitefield’s soul took fire. He declares he never preached with greater power than now. One day, he would take his stand on Hannam Mount; another, on Rose Green; and another at the Fishponds. Then he ran off to Cardiff, and preached in the town hall; and then to Bath, and preached on the town common. Then we find him preaching to about four thousand at Baptist Mills; and, on March 18, his congregation at Rose Green was estimated at not less than twenty thousand, to whom he preached nearly an hour and a half.[273] A gentleman lent him a large bowling-green in the heart of Bristol, and here he preached to seven or eight thousand people. In the village of Publow, several thousands assembled to hear him; and, at Coal-pit Heath and other places, the crowds were quite as great. All this transpired within six weeks, and, at nearly all these strange and enormous gatherings, Whitefield made a collection for his orphan house in Georgia. His soul expanded with his marvellous success. He wished to try the same experiment elsewhere; and hence he sent for Wesley to act as his Bristol and Kingswood successor. Wesley arrived at Bristol on Saturday, March 31; and, the next day, heard Whitefield at the Bowling-green, Rose Green,[Pg 228] and Hannam Mount, and was thus introduced to the vast congregations which Whitefield bequeathed to his godly care. He was once again ungagged, and, during the nine months from March to December, preached and expounded almost without ceasing.

Whitefield, on leaving Wesley at Bristol, made his way to London, preaching to assembled thousands at Gloucester and other places. The churches in the metropolis were all closed against him; but Moorfields and Kennington Common were still open; and here, to congregations consisting of tens of thousands, he rapturously proclaimed the glad tidings of salvation. In one instance, he computed his Kennington congregation at fifty thousand, to whom he preached an hour and a half. Eighty coaches were present, besides great numbers of people on horseback. On another occasion, his collection for the orphan house in Georgia amounted to upwards of £47, of which £16 were in half-pence. At another time, the concourse in Moorfields numbered nearly sixty thousand; and, at every service, he seems to have made collections for Georgia, himself acting as one of the collectors. He then made a short preaching excursion to Hertford, Northampton, and Bedford, where the stairs of a windmill served him for a pulpit. On returning to town, he received letters from Scotland, telling him that Ralph Erskine had turned field preacher, and had had a congregation of fourteen thousand people. In June, Wesley came to London to see him, and preached at Blackheath to twelve or fourteen thousand people, “the Lord giving him,” writes Whitefield, “ten thousand times more success than He has given me.” An embargo unexpectedly laid on shipping detained him in England a few weeks longer, during which he visited Hertfordshire, Essex, Gloucestershire, and other places. In July, he joined his friend Wesley in Bristol, and acknowledged that the congregations were much more serious and affected than when he had left them three months before. The Kingswood colliers, instead of cursing and swearing, now made the woods ring with their hymns of praise. At length, in the month of August, Whitefield set sail for America, where we must leave him until his return to England, in March, 1741.

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Charles Wesley passed most of the year 1739 in London and its neighbourhood. His brother and his friends urged him to settle at Oxford; but he refused, without further direction from God. He preached in churches as long as he was permitted; and, when prohibited, followed the example of Whitefield and his brother.

For a moment, we must retrace our steps. As already stated, Wesley himself spent the first two months of 1739 in London. How was he occupied? On New Year’s day, he was present at a remarkable lovefeast in Fetter Lane, which continued until three o’clock in the morning, and which consisted of himself, his brother, his clerical friends Whitefield, Ingham, Hall, Kinchin, and Hutchings, and about sixty Moravians. At the hour mentioned, the power of God came upon them so mightily, that many cried out for exceeding joy, others fell prostrate on the ground, and all joined in singing, “We praise Thee, O God; we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord.” But even this marvellous manifestation of the majesty of God failed to remove Wesley’s doubts and fears; for, three days afterwards, we find him writing the bitterest things against himself, and concluding with the words, “Though I have constantly used all the means of grace for twenty years, I am not a Christian.”

The day after, January 5, seven of the despised Methodist clergymen (probably the seven just mentioned), held a conference at Islington, on several matters of great importance, and, after prayer and fasting, determined what they were in doubt about, by casting lots. “We parted,” says Whitefield, “with a full conviction that God was going to do great things among us;”[274] a conviction which was soon verified.

On January 7, they held another lovefeast at Fetter Lane, and spent the whole night in prayer and thanksgiving.[275]

January 25, Wesley baptized five adults at Islington, and makes a strange distinction, which shows that his views of the scriptural doctrine of salvation were still hazy and confused. He writes: “Of the adults I have known baptized lately, only[Pg 230] one was at that time born again, in the full sense of the word; that is, found a thorough inward change by the love of God filling her heart. Most of them were only born again in a lower sense; that is, received the remission of their sins.” Let the reader compare this with a passage in Wesley’s sermon on “The Great Privilege of those that are Born of God,” and he will mark the difference.

Nothing can be more scriptural, or more clearly expressed than this; but comparison with the extract from his journal, above given, shows that, even in 1739, Wesley was far from being “a scribe instructed unto the kingdom of heaven.” He still had much both to learn and to unlearn; but it was a happy fact, that he was docile and eager to be taught. Four days after baptizing the adults at Islington, he sat up till near one in the morning with Whitefield and two other clergymen, earnestly listening to a midnight discussion concerning the doctrine of the new birth.[276]

During the month of February, he had three separate interviews with bishops of the Established Church. On the 6th, he went with Whitefield to the Bishop of Gloucester, to solicit a subscription for Georgia.[277] On the 21st, he and his brother Charles waited on Potter, Archbishop of Canterbury, who showed them great affection;[Pg 231] spoke mildly of Whitefield; cautioned them to give no more umbrage than necessary; to forbear exceptionable phrases; and to keep to the doctrines of the Church. They told him they expected persecution; but would abide by the Church till her articles and homilies were repealed. From Potter, they proceeded direct to Gibson, Bishop of London, who denied that he had condemned them, or even heard much about them. Whitefield’s Journal, he said, was tainted with enthusiasm, though Whitefield himself was a pious, well meaning youth. He warned them against Antinomianism, and dismissed them kindly.[278]

On the day after their interview with the Bishop of Gloucester, Whitefield, shut out of the London churches, set off on his tour to Bristol. Three weeks later, Wesley wrote him an account of his proceedings in London.

This extract will give the reader an idea of Wesley’s weekly labours in London, up to the time that he set out for Bristol. Every day had its day’s work. It was impossible for such a[Pg 232] man to be idle: work was essential to his happiness, and almost to his existence.

Already the people began to have faith in the power of his piety and prayers. The parents of a lunatic besought his intercessions on behalf of their afflicted son, who, for five years past, had been in the habit of beating and tearing himself, putting his hands into the fire, and thrusting pins into his flesh. Wesley and his friends yielded to the request on February 17; and, from that time, the poor creature, though not fully freed from his calamitous affliction, had more rest than he had had for two years before. On the same day, a middle aged, well dressed woman, at a society-meeting in Beech Lane, was seized as with the agonies of death. For three years, her friends had accounted her mad, and had bled and blistered her accordingly. Wesley prayed with her, and, five days after, she was victoriously delivered, and in a moment was filled with love and joy.[281] Within a fortnight, a third instance, somewhat similar, took place at Oxford, whither Wesley had gone for a brief visit. Hearing of a woman who was most violently opposed to the Methodist revival, he went to her and argued with her. This enraged her more and more. Wesley broke off the dispute, and began to pray. In a few minutes, the woman fell into an extreme agony, both of body and soul; and soon after cried out with the utmost earnestness, “Now I know I am forgiven for Christ’s sake;” and, from that hour, set her face as a flint to declare the faith which before she persecuted.

We have already seen that, at the beginning of the month of March, Wesley made a tour to Oxford, and while there wrote to Whitefield the long letter which has been already given. On his return to London, he received a most urgent request from Whitefield to proceed to Bristol without delay. Wesley hesitated; Charles objected; and the society at Fetter Lane disputed; but, at length, the matter was decided by casting lots. Wesley reached Bristol on March 31, and on April 2 Whitefield left, summing up the results of his first six weeks of out-door preaching thus: “Many sinners have[Pg 233] been effectually converted, and all the children of God have been exceedingly comforted. Several thousands of little books have been dispersed among the people; about £200 collected for the orphan house; and many poor families relieved by the bounty of my friend Mr. Seward. And what gives me the greater comfort is the consideration that my dear and honoured friend Mr. Wesley is left behind to confirm those that are awakened; so that I hope, when I return from Georgia, to see many bold soldiers of Jesus Christ.”[282]

The next day he wrote to Wesley the following, which is now for the first time given to the public:—

On the day of Whitefield’s departure, at four in the afternoon, Wesley ventured to follow his friend’s example, and for the first time in England dared to preach in the open air. His text was appropriate and striking, Isaiah lxi. 1, 2. The place was “a little eminence in a ground adjoining to the city.” His feeling was deep. He says: “I could scarce reconcile myself at first to this strange way of preaching in the fields; having been all my life, till very lately, so tenacious of every point relating to decency and order, that I should have thought the saving of souls almost a sin if it had not been done in a church.”

Such were the prejudices and the feelings of the man who, for between fifty and sixty years proved himself the greatest out-door preacher that ever lived.

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With the exception of a brief visit to London in June, September, and November, and of a short tour into Wales and another to Exeter, Wesley spent the whole of his time, from April to the end of 1739, in Bristol and its immediate neighbourhood. Though there are considerable gaps in Wesley’s journal, during which we lose sight of his texts and sermons, it is not too much to say that he delivered at least five hundred discourses and expositions in the nine months of which we speak; and it is a noticeable fact that only eight of these were delivered in churches,—six in the church at Clifton, one at Runwick, and one at Exeter. His preaching plan was as follows:—an exposition to one or other of the Bristol societies every night, and preaching every Sunday morning, and every Monday and Saturday afternoon. At Kingswood, including Hannam Mount, Rose Green, and Two Mile Hill, he preached twice every sabbath, and also every alternate Tuesday and Friday. At Baptist Mills, he preached every Friday; at Bath, once a fortnight, on Tuesday; and at Pensford, once a fortnight, on Thursday.

Another point is worth noticing. His chief, almost his only aim, was to explain to the people the plan of scriptural salvation; for, as may easily be seen, almost all his texts have an immediate bearing on this the greatest of all pulpit topics. Saved himself, his whole soul was absorbed in a grand endeavour to expound the truth which, above all other truths, is the means of saving sinners. “The points,” he writes, “I chiefly insisted upon were four: first, that orthodoxy, or right opinions, is, at best, but a very slender part of religion, if it can be allowed to be any part at all; that neither does religion consist in negatives, in bare harmlessness of any kind; nor merely in externals, in doing good, or using the means of grace, in works of piety, or of charity: that it is nothing short of, or different from, the mind that was in Christ; the image of God stamped upon the heart; inward righteousness, attended with the peace of God and joy in the Holy Ghost. Secondly, that the only way to this religion is repentance towards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. Thirdly, that by this faith, he that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, is justified freely by His grace through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus. And, lastly, that being[Pg 235] justified by faith, we taste of the heaven to which we are going; we are holy and happy; we tread down sin and fear, and sit in heavenly places with Christ Jesus.”[283]

He further tells us that the reasons which induced him to begin preaching in the open air were—1. That he was forbidden, as by a general consent, though not by any judicial sentence, to preach in any church. 2. That the rooms in which he preached could not contain a tenth part of the people that were earnest to hear. Hence, he adds, he determined to do in England what he had often done in a warmer climate; namely, when the house would not contain the congregation, to preach in the open air; and never had he seen a more awful sight than when, on Rose Green, or the top of Hannam Mount, some thousands of people were calmly joined together in solemn waiting upon God. He had no desire or design to preach in the open air till he was forbidden to preach in churches. It was no matter of choice, neither of premeditation. Field preaching was a sudden expedient, a thing submitted to rather than chosen; and submitted to, because he thought preaching even thus better than not preaching at all; first, in regard to his own soul, because a dispensation of the gospel being committed to him, he did not dare not to preach the gospel; and secondly, in regard to the souls of others, whom he everywhere saw seeking death in the error of their life.[284]

Some of his friends urged him to settle in college, or to accept a cure of souls: to whom he replied:—

Such was the position taken by Wesley and his friends.[Pg 236] Their chief, their only business was to save souls. For this they had a world-wide commission. Nothing short of this could satisfy the yearnings of their nature. Unlike the old Puritans and others, they had no attacks to make on the despotic measures of the court and Church. “In their bosoms there was no rankling grudge against authorities; there was no particle of that venom which, wherever it lodges, infects and paralyses the religious affections.”[285] Their sole quarrel was, not with church or state authorities, but with sin and Satan; and their sole object was, not to make proselytes, but to save sinners.

Their congregations, says James Hutton, “were composed of every description of persons, who, without the slightest attempt at order, assembled, crying ‘Hurrah!’ with one breath, and with the next bellowing and bursting into tears on account of their sins; some poking each other’s ribs, and others shouting ‘Hallelujah.’ It was a jumble of extremes of good and evil; and so distracted alike were both preachers and hearers, that it was enough to make one cry to God for His interference. Here thieves, prostitutes, fools, people of every class, several men of distinction, a few of the learned, merchants, and numbers of poor people who had never entered a place of worship, assembled in crowds and became godly.”[286]

Of course, persecution followed. “We continued,” says Wesley, “to call sinners to repentance in London, Bristol, Bath, and a few other places; but it was not without violent opposition, both from high and low, learned and unlearned. Not only all manner of evil was spoken of us, both in private and public, but the beasts of the people were stirred up almost in all places to knock these mad dogs on the head at once. And when complaint was made of their savage, brutal violence, no magistrate would do us justice.”[287]

The following may be taken as specimens of the opposition met with in 1739. On one occasion, Wesley had obtained permission to preach in Pensford church; but, just as he was setting out, he received a letter, saying that the minister had[Pg 237] been informed that he was mad, and that, therefore, the permission was withdrawn. Not being allowed to occupy the church, Wesley took his stand in the open air; but in the midst of prayer, two men, hired for the purpose, began to sing ballads, which obliged Wesley and his friends to begin to sing a psalm, so as to drown one noise by another.

Another incident must be given. Bath, at that period, was perhaps the most fashionable city in England; and the most renowned man in Bath was Richard, commonly called “Beau,” Nash. This accomplished rake, now sixty-five years old, was the son of a glass manufacturer in Wales, and was expelled from Jesus College, Oxford, for his intrigues and wild adventures. At the age of thirty, he was without a fortune, and without talents for acquiring one; and hence, to the end of life, became a gamester. The visit of Queen Anne to Bath, in 1703, had made the city the favourite resort of people of distinction, and, ever after, the amusements of the place were put under the direction of a master of the ceremonies, this sovereignty of the city being decreed to Nash by all ranks of residents and visitors. King of Bath, he had rules posted in the pump-room, from which even royalty itself was not allowed to deviate. He prescribed the dresses in which ladies and gentlemen were to appear at balls, and imperatively fixed the number of dances to be danced. He himself wore a monstrously large white hat, and usually travelled in a post chaise, drawn by six grey horses, honoured with outriders, footmen, French horns, and every other appendage of a pretentious coxcomb. He lived by gambling, and scattered money with as much indifference as he won it. The city of which he was the dandy king was full of fashionable rogues. “Nothing,” says the Weekly Miscellany of that period, “nothing was to be seen in it but play and the preparations for it. Persons of all characters, distinctions, and denominations sat down to cards from morning till night, and from night till morning; and those who disagreed in everything else agreed in this.”

On visiting Bath, Wesley was told that Nash meant to interfere, and was entreated not to attempt to preach. Wesley, however, was not the man to yield to a swaggering rake. He had gone to preach, and preach he would, and did; the[Pg 238] threatenings of Nash having made his congregation much larger than was expected. Besides the poor, he had many of the rich and great. Soon after Wesley began his sermon, the “Beau,” in his immense white hat, appeared, and asked by what authority he dared to do what he was doing now. Wesley replied, “By the authority of Jesus Christ, conveyed to me by him who is now Archbishop of Canterbury, when he laid his hands upon me, and said, ‘Take thou authority to preach the gospel.’” “But this,” said Nash, “is a conventicle, and contrary to act of parliament.” “No,” answered Wesley, “conventicles are seditious meetings; but here is no sedition: therefore, it is not contrary to act of parliament.” “I say it is,” cried the man of Bath; “and, besides, your preaching frightens people out of their wits.” “Sir,” said Wesley, “did you ever hear me preach?” “No.” “How then can you judge of what you never heard?” “I judge,” he answered, “by common report.” “Common report,” replied Wesley, “is not enough. Give me leave to ask you, sir, is not your name Nash?” “It is,” he said. “Sir,” retorted Wesley, “I dare not judge of you by common report.” The master of ceremonies was worsted, and, after a pause, simply asked what the people wanted; upon which an old woman begged Wesley to allow her to answer him, and, amid her taunts, the resplendent king of the pump-room sneaked away.

No wonder that the Methodists were opposed. Their preaching, their doctrine, and their whole behaviour were novel. “Being convinced,” writes Wesley, “of that important truth, which is the foundation of all real religion, that ‘by grace we are saved through faith,’ we immediately began declaring it to others. Indeed, we could hardly speak of anything else, either in public or private. It shone upon our minds with so strong a light, that it was our constant theme. It was our daily subject, both in verse and prose; and we vehemently defended it against all mankind. But, in doing this, we were assaulted and abused on every side. We were everywhere represented as mad dogs, and treated accordingly. We were stoned in the streets, and several times narrowly escaped with our lives. In sermons, newspapers, and pamphlets of all kinds, we were painted as unheard of monsters. But this[Pg 239] moved us not; we went on testifying salvation by faith both to small and great, and not counting our lives dear unto ourselves, so we might finish our course with joy.”[288]

Wesley here mentions the attacks made upon them by the press. The following are specimens:—

The Scots Magazine, for 1739, remarks that “Whitefield and the two Wesleys offend against the rules of the Christian church, by preaching in opposition to the opinions and instructions of the bishops.” “The Wesleys,” continues this Scottish censor, “are more guilty than Whitefield, because they are men of more learning, better judgment, and cooler heads. Let them go over to their proper companies, their favourites, the Dissenters, and utter their extemporary effusions in a conventicle; but not be suffered in our churches hypocritically to use our forms, which they despise. Let them carry their spirit of delusion among their brethren, the Quakers. Let them preach up their election and reprobation doctrines among the Calvinists; and their solifidian tenets among the Antinomians. Let not such bold movers of sedition, and ringleaders of the rabble, to the disgrace of their order, be regularly admitted into those pulpits which they have taken with multitude and with tumult, or, as ignominiously, by stealth.”

The clergy also began to bestir themselves. On Trinity Sunday, a sermon on regeneration was preached in the parish churches of Greenwich, and of St. Peter the Poor, London, by the Rev. Ralph Skerret, D.D., chaplain to the Earl of Grantham. The sermon, in 8vo, thirty-six pages, was published; but is scarcely worth noticing. The Methodists, however, are spoken of as “restless deceivers of the people, who make it their daily business to fill the heads of the ignorant and unwary with wild, perplexive notions.”

Another sermon, preached before the university of Oxford, on August 5, by the Rev. John Wilder, M.A., rector of St. Aldate’s, on “The Trial of the Spirits,” brands the Methodists as “deceivers,” “babblers,” “insolent pretenders,” “men of capricious humours, spiritual sleight, and canting craftiness,” “novices in divinity,” casting “indecent, false, and un[Pg 240]christian reflections on the clergy,” “newfangled teachers, setting up their own fantastic conceits, in opposition to the authority of God, and so bigoted to their wild opinions, and so puffed up with pride and vanity at the success of their enthusiastic labours, that they all appear fully disposed to maintain and defend their cause by more than spiritual weapons, or to die martyrs for it.”

On the 14th of October, the Rev. Charles Wheatley, M.A., vicar of Furneux Pelham, Herts, preached in St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, a sermon against the “new enthusiasts,” on “St. John’s test of knowing Christ, and being born of Him.” The sermon, with notes, was published, in 8vo, thirty-one pages, but was not calculated to augment the fame of the honest and zealous churchman, who had already given to the public two important ritualistic works, entitled, “A Rational Illustration of the Book of Common Prayer,” and “An Historical Vindication of the Fifty-fifth Canon.” Mr. Wheatley is less abusive than Mr. Wilder; but yet he thinks it right to describe the Methodists as “rapturous enthusiasts, preaching up unaccountable sensations, violent emotions, and sudden changes;” and likewise “assuming to themselves, upon all occasions, the peculiar language of the Holy Ghost; equalling themselves to prophets and apostles; boasting of immediate inspirations; and laying a blasphemous claim to greater miracles than were ever wrought even by Christ Himself.”

Another opponent, in 1739, was Henry Stebbing, a doctor of divinity, a royal chaplain, and preacher to the Honourable Society of Gray’s Inn. This gentleman published “A Caution against Religious Delusion,” in the shape of “a sermon on the New Birth: occasioned by the pretensions of the Methodists.” In this comparatively temperate production, the Methodists are charged with “vain and confident boastings, and with rash uncharitable censures;” with “gathering tumultuous assemblies to the disturbance of the public peace, and with setting at nought all authority and rule;” with “intruding into other men’s labours, and with encouraging abstinence, prayer, and other religious exercises, to the neglect of the duties of our station.” It is admitted that, when there are “so many combinations for vice,” “religious societies for praying, read[Pg 241]ing (if not expounding) the Scriptures, and singing psalms may be of use for the encouragement of virtue;” but the danger is lest the laymen, who were heads or leaders of these societies, should “grow opinionated of themselves and fond of their own gifts, and should run into wild fancies until the pale of the Church is too strait for them.” Before the end of the year 1739, Stebbing’s sermon reached a sixth edition.

Another antagonist, more violent than Stebbing, was Joseph Trapp, D.D., who published, in 1739, a pamphlet of sixty-nine pages, entitled, “The Nature, Folly, Sin, and Danger of being Righteous over-much; with a particular view to the Doctrines and Practices of certain Modern Enthusiasts. Being the substance of four discourses lately preached in the parish churches of Christ Church and St. Lawrence Jewry, London; and St. Martin’s in the Fields, Westminster. By Joseph Trapp, D.D.”

In this notable production, it is stated that, “for laymen to officiate in reading prayers to any assembly, except their own families, is an encroachment upon the office of those who are ordained to holy functions; and for them to expound or interpret Scripture is neither laudable nor justifiable, but tends to the confirmation, not the removal, of ignorance.” For “a raw novice, though in holy orders” (like Whitefield), “to take upon him, at his first setting out, to be a teacher, not only of all the laity, in all parts of the kingdom, but of the teachers themselves, the learned clergy, many of them learned before he was born, is an outrage upon common decency and common sense; the height of presumption, confidence, and self-sufficiency; so ridiculous as to create the greatest laughter, were it not so deplorable and detestable as to create the greatest grief and abhorrence; especially when vast multitudes are so sottish and wicked as, in a tumultuous manner, to run madding after him.” Trapp insinuates that the Methodists “teach such absurd doctrines, and second them with such absurd practices, as to give countenance to the lewd and debauched, the irreligious and profane. In their own imagination, their errors are the height of wisdom, and their vices the most perfect virtues. They think themselves the greatest saints, when, in truth, they are under strong delusion, in the bond of iniquity, and in the gall of bitterness.[Pg 242] They have set the nearest and dearest relations at variance; disturbed the quiet of families; and thrown whole neighbourhoods and parishes into confusion. They were half-dissenters in the Church, and more dangerous to the Church, than those who were total dissenters from it.” “Methodism was nothing but a revival of the old fanaticism of the last century; when all manner of madness was practised, and all manner of villainy committed in the name of Christ.” Its disciples, “like Solomon’s madman, cast firebrands, arrows, and death; and send to hell (only because they are not of their own frantic persuasion) millions of Christians much better than themselves.”

The author proceeds:—“For a clergyman of the Church of England to pray and preach in the fields, in the country, or in the streets of the city, is perfectly new, a fresh honour to the blessed age in which we have the happiness to live. I am ashamed to speak upon a subject, which is a reproach not only to our Church and country, but to human nature itself. Can it promote the Christian religion to turn it into riot, tumult, and confusion? to make it ridiculous and contemptible, and expose it to the scorn and scoffs of infidels and atheists? To the prevalence of immorality and profaneness, infidelity and atheism, is now added the pest of enthusiasm. Our prospect is very sad and melancholy. Go not after these impostors and seducers; but shun them as you would the plague.”

Such are fair specimens of the four fiery sermons preached by Dr. Trapp. Hypocrites, enthusiasts, novelists, ignes fatui, and glaring meteors are the best names which this reverend divine could find for the poor, peaceable, and persecuted Methodists.[289]

Another clerical adversary was “Tristam Land, M.A., late Fellow of Clare Hall, in Cambridge, Curate of St. James,[Pg 243] Garlickhith; and Lecturer of the united parishes of St. Anthony and St. John Baptist.” His sixpenny pamphlet of thirty pages was entitled, “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, with a Letter addressed to the Religious Societies.” Whitefield is attacked for teaching the doctrine, that many are baptized without being born again; whereas Tristam Land insists that, according to the teachings of the Church of England, “all infants, at the time they are baptized, are sanctified with the Holy Ghost; and that, though they may afterwards depart from the grace given, and fall into sin, they are not to be commanded to be baptized or born again a second time; for to be born more than once, in a spiritual sense, is just as impossible as to be born twice in a natural. All that can be done in this matter is to use the several means of grace; or, in one word, as the Scripture expresses it, they must be renewed again by repentance.”

This reverend gentleman then proceeds to describe the Methodists as “young quacks in divinity, running about the city, and taking great pains to distract the common people, and to break the peace and unity of the Church. They are like vain persons, who think themselves handsome, and are apt to despise others; for looking upon themselves as exquisite pictures of holiness and as patterns of piety, they represent us (the clergy) as dumb dogs, profane, and carnally minded. They talk much of the pangs of the new birth, their inward feelings, experiences, and spiritual miracles; but their faith is an ill grounded assurance, their hope an unwarrantable presumption, and their charity a censoriousness and a contempt of their brethren of different sentiments to themselves.”

Good old Dr. Byrom, in a letter dated February 8, 1739, says, “The book against Mr. Whitefield by Mr. Land is thought a weak piece.”[290] No wonder.

Besides these, there was published “An Expostulatory Letter to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield;” also an octavo pamphlet of forty pages, entitled, “Observations and Remarks on Mr. Seagrave’s conduct and writings, in which his answer to the Rev. Dr. Trapp’s four sermons is more particularly considered.” In this latter production, it is asserted that White[Pg 244]field sinks the house of God into a playhouse, and turns religion to a farce; that prostitutes swarm at his meetings, and there make merchandise as at a country fair; that his congregations are such as crowd to a Smithfield show; and that Whitefield himself is an enthusiast, a blasphemer, and a wavering, wandering preacher of no establishment, but nearly attached to the Dissenting communion, and blending his sermons with a spice both of the Papist and Mahommedan.

In a “Faithful Narrative” of Whitefield’s life and character, it is stated that numberless lies and false reports have been raised in London to vilify his character, and to stigmatise his followers; and he was now branded as a mercenary knave. It was also reported that, in Georgia, he had been imprisoned and personally chastised for making the people mad with enthusiasm.

An “Expostulatory Letter” to Whitefield, “and the rest of his brethren, the Methodists of the Church of England,” octavo, forty pages, and signed “E. B.,” charges them with departing from the rubric in sprinkling children at baptism, thus prostituting a holy ordinance, and substituting an insignificant, unavailing thing, neither worthy of God, nor beneficial to men. It also urges them to be dipped themselves, and thus become exemplars to others.

Besides all these, an attack was made by a young man of eight-and-twenty, curate of All Saints’, Bristol, the Rev. Josiah Tucker, afterwards a doctor of divinity, and Dean of Gloucester. In a Letter, dated June 14, 1739, he accuses Whitefield of propagating “blasphemous and enthusiastic notions, which struck at the root of all religion, and made it the jest of those who sat in the seat of the scornful.” Wesley replied to this, and concludes by advising Tucker not to meddle with controversy, for his talents were not equal to its management. It would only entangle and bewilder him more and more. Besides, there was no pleasure in answering a man whose head was not adapted to the right directing of disputes.[291]

The next onslaught was more authoritative and serious. On August 1, 1739, Edmund Gibson, Bishop of London, published his “Pastoral Letter,” of fifty-five pages, “to the[Pg 245] People of his Diocese; especially those of the two great cities of London and Westminster: by way of Caution against Lukewarmness on one hand, and Enthusiasm on the other.” Two-thirds of this prelatical pamphlet are on enthusiasm, and are levelled against the Methodists. Numerous extracts are given from Whitefield’s Journal, to show—1. That these enthusiasts claim to have extraordinary communications with God, and more than ordinary assurances of a special presence with them. 2. That they have a special and immediate mission from God. 3. That they think and act under the immediate guidance of a Divine inspiration. 4. That they speak of their preaching and expounding, and the effects of them, as the sole work of a Divine power. 5. That they boast of sudden and surprising effects as wrought by the Holy Ghost in consequence of their preaching. 6. That they claim the spirit of prophecy. 7. That they speak of themselves in the language, and under the character, of apostles of Christ, and even of Christ Himself. 8. That they profess to plant and propagate a new gospel, as unknown to the generality of ministers and people, in a Christian country. 9. That they endeavour to justify their own extraordinary methods of teaching, by casting unworthy reflections upon the parochial clergy, as deficient in the discharge of their duty, and not instructing their people in the true doctrines of Christianity.

Thirteen days after the “Pastoral Letter” was published, Whitefield wrote an answer to it, and, in a firm but quiet and respectful way, replied to all the bishop’s allegations. He concludes by charging Gibson with propagating a new gospel, because he asserts, that “good works are a necessary condition of our being justified in the sight of God.” He maintains that faith is the only necessary condition, and that good works are the necessary fruit and consequence. “This,” he writes, “is the doctrine of Jesus Christ; this is the doctrine of the Church of England; and it is, because the generality of the clergy of the Church of England do not preach this doctrine, that I am resolved, God being my helper, to continue instant in season and out of season, to declare it unto all men, let the consequences, as to my own private person, be what they will.”

[Pg 246]

If the bishop really believed his accusations to be true, his pastoral is a model of meek writing. On the other hand, Whitefield’s answer is one of the smartest productions of his pen; its pith and point somewhat reminding us of the terseness which characterized his friend Wesley.

While Whitefield was skirmishing with the Bishop of London, Wesley was having a brush with the Bishop of Bristol. First they discussed the subject of faith as the only necessary condition of a sinner’s justification before God. Then his lordship charged the Methodists with “a horrid thing, a very horrid thing,” namely, “pretending to extraordinary revelations and gifts of the Holy Ghost.” The conversation concluded thus:—

Bishop. “I hear you administer the sacrament in your societies.”

Wesley. “My lord, I never did yet; and I believe I never shall.”

Bishop. “I hear too, that many people fall into fits in your societies, and that you pray over them.”

Wesley. “I do so, my lord, when any show, by strong cries and tears, that their soul is in deep anguish; and our prayer is often heard.”

Bishop. “Very extraordinary indeed! Well, sir, since you ask my advice, I will give it freely. You have no business here; you are not commissioned to preach in this diocese. Therefore, I advise you to go hence.”

Wesley. “My lord, my business on earth is, to do what good I can. Wherever, therefore, I think I can do most good, there must I stay, so long as I think so. At present, I think I can do most good here; therefore, here I stay. Being ordained a priest, by the commission I then received, I am a priest of the church universal; and being ordained as fellow of a college, I was not limited to any particular cure, but have an indeterminate commission to preach the word of God in any part of the Church of England. I conceive not, therefore, that in preaching here by this commission I break any human law. When I am convinced I do, then it will be time to ask, shall I obey God or man? But if I should be convinced in the meanwhile that I could advance the glory of God and the salvation of souls, in any other[Pg 247] place more than in Bristol, in that hour, by God’s help, I will go hence; which till then I may not do.”[292]

About the same time, a pamphlet of ninety-six pages was published, entitled, “The Life of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, by an Impartial Hand.” Impartiality is pretended, but hostility is seen. The object of the Life is evidently to make the subject of it a mark for the shafts of ridicule. Accounts are given of the fracas in St. Margaret’s church, Westminster, on Sunday, February 4. There is also “a method of confession drawn up for the use of the women Methodists,” professedly taken from the original in Whitefield’s or Wesley’s own handwriting, and with which, it is alleged, the Deists are delighted. Among other questions, to be asked, as often as occasion required, were the following: “Are you in love? Whom do you love just now, better than any other person in the world? Is not the person an idol? Does any court you? How do you like him? How do you feel yourself when he comes, when he stays, and when he goes away?” A full account is, likewise, furnished of Joseph Periam, a young clerk to an attorney, who had been converted, partly by reading Whitefield’s sermons on the new birth, and whom his friends had put into a madhouse—(1) Because he fasted for near a fortnight. (2) Because he prayed so as to be heard several storeys high. (3) Because he had sold his clothes and given the money to the poor. The Methodists are further charged with attempting to take away the liberty of the press; Wesley is accused of placing his converts, when delivered from their violent agitations and distortions, on an eminence, for others to behold them; and Whitefield is charged with saying, that he could produce two cobblers in Bristol, that knew more of true Christianity than all the clergy in the city put together. His Journals are designated rhapsodies and repetitions of spiritual pride, vanity and nonsense; he is accused of wilful and notorious falsehood, and of taking pleasure in being abusive and scurrilous.

All this breathes fury; but the following taken from the Weekly Miscellany of July 21, 1739, surpasses it. The Methodist preacher stands on an eminence with admiring and[Pg 248] subscribing crowds about him. He is young, which is good; looks innocent, which is better; and has no human learning, which is best of all. He spreads his hands and opens his lips as wide as possible. He talks of a sensible new birth; good women around him come to his assistance; he dilates himself; cries out; the hill swells into a mountain; and parturiunt montes, nascitur ridiculus mus. Then there is a chorus of ten thousand sighs and groans, deepened with the blowing of bassoons and horns. The Methodists are mad enthusiasts who teach, for dictates of the Holy Spirit, seditions, heresies, and contempt of the ordinances of God and man. They are buffoons in religion, and mountebanks in theology; creatures who disclaim sense and are below argument; visionary antics in gowns and cassocks; so buffeted by the devil as to be qualified to be confessors to the whole island; composing sermons as fast as they can write, and speaking faster than they think; and forming societies of females, who are to confess their love affairs one to another, and to take care that there shall be a supply of new Methodists for future generations.

In the same year, appeared a pamphlet, of twenty-eight pages, entitled “The Methodists; an Humorous, Burlesque Poem, addressed to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield and his followers.” The frontispiece represents the great preacher addressing an immense crowd on Kennington Common, while, on the outskirts of the congregation, are coaches of all descriptions, and a gibbet on which three condemned felons are hanging. Describing the Methodists, the poem says:—

After this, the devil is represented as making a tour from Rome to Oxford, in the course of which he stole the bigoted madness of a Turk, and the wit of a modern atheist, both of which he drenched, dull and deep, in a literary Dutchman’s brain, and then, making them his own, and pulling off his horns, and shoeing his cloven foot, dressing himself in a[Pg 249] student’s gown, and using for the nonce a distorted face, and, because of the piety of its nasal tones, a Noncon parson’s nose, he introduced himself to the Oxford Methodists, and gave them instructions how to act, so as to effect their purposes,—instructions too lascivious to be reprinted. As a very mild specimen of this foul-mouthed poem, we give another description of the Methodists:—

At the risk of exhausting the reader’s patience, we must notice another anti-Methodist pamphleteer, who, in 1739, did his little best to strangle the new-born system at its birth. This was a certain “James Bate, M.A., Rector of St. Paul’s, Deptford; and formerly Chaplain to His Excellency Horatio Walpole, Esq.”

First of all, the redoubtable author gave to the world a pamphlet of thirty-eight pages, bearing the title, “Methodism Displayed; or Remarks upon Mr. Whitefield’s Answer to the Bishop of London’s Pastoral Letter.” In this production, Whitefield is charged with causing numbers of poor tradesmen to leave their families to starve, only to ramble after himself; in dividing the word of God, he violently divides text from context, and makes arrant nonsense of both; he shuffles and prevaricates; treats the bishop with saucy sneers; is guilty of flat falsehoods, disingenuous quirks, and mean evasions; perfidiously tramples upon the canons of the Church; and flies in the face of his diocesan with unparalleled pride and impudence.

Not having exhausted all his wrath, the same reverend gentleman, at the end of the year, issued another manifesto, of sixty-six pages, entitled, “Quakero-Methodism; or a Confu[Pg 250]tation of the First Principles of the Quakers and Methodists.” This was a dear shilling’s worth, written in reply to a letter on Bate’s former pamphlet “by T. S—— y, Esq.” Bate asserts that the whole performance of the “Quakero-Methodist” (as T. S—— y is called) may be ranked under the two heads of scurrility and sophistry; but as God, at whose altar he serves, has forbid him to return railing for railing, he will give no answer to the scurrility whatever. He then, notwithstanding this, proceeds to accuse his adversary of having “troubled the public with a load of stupidity, folly, and nonsense.” He alleges against him “insipid sneers, like the grins of an idiot;” he tells him that “the shortest cut for him to avoid writing nonsense is to lay down his pen;” that his “whole stock of knowledge has been laid in at some expounding house that was under the influence of the spirit of presumption, ignorance, pride, and arrogance;” and that “his arguments have never more than two gentle faults, false premises and a false conclusion.” He says, Whitefield “chews” the charges of the Bishop of London, “just as an ass mumbles a thistle, without either the courage to swallow it, or the sense to lay it down;” and concludes by assuring his opponent that he could have “goaded him with the sharpest, bitterest, and severest sarcasms, and have scourged his spiritual pride with wholesome severity;” but in mercy he has refrained from using such “a whip of scorpions.”

The magazines and newspapers of the period were filled with similar abuse of the poor Methodists. The writer has examined most of them, and has been struck with two facts:—(1) of those admitting letters and articles against the Methodists, the fairest and most moderate was the Gentleman’s Magazine; and (2) the bitterest and most violent was the professedly religious Weekly Miscellany, a weekly folio sheet of four pages. The following is a mild specimen from the latter, and refers not only to the movements of Wesley and Whitefield in the south of England, but of Ingham in the north. After accusing Whitefield of “behaviour disgraceful to the Christian religion and to the ministerial office,” the journalist proceeds to say that—

“The clergy had all refused him their pulpits, and the lord mayor the halls and markets of the city.” He was “a con[Pg 251]ceited boaster and heterodox intruder; whose next performance was to be accompanied with a chorus of ten thousand sighs and groans, deepened with bassoons. In the approaching winter, the town would be entertained with harlequin turned Methodist, by way of reprisals, since the Methodist had turned harlequin. In Yorkshire, by the preaching of the Methodists, the spirit of enthusiasm had so prevailed, that almost every man who could hammer out a chapter in the Bible had turned an expounder of the Scripture, to the great decay of industry, and the almost ruin of the woollen manufacture, which seemed threatened with destruction for want of hands to work it.” “Methodism has laid aside play-books and poems, for Scripture phrases and hymns of its own composing. Its disciples were never easy but when they were in a church, or expounding the Bible, which they could do offhand, from Genesis to Revelation, with great ease and power. They had given away their finery to tattered beggars, resolving to wear the coarsest attire and to live upon the most ordinary diet. They hired barns, where they met at six in the evening; expounded, prayed, and sang psalms till towards ten; and then had a lovefeast to communicate their experiences, especially as to love affairs.” “Several fine ladies, who used to wear French silks, French hoops of four yards wide, bob-wigs, and white satin smock petticoats, were turned Methodists, and now wore stuff gowns, common night-mobs, and plain bays for Jennys.”

Numbers of similar extracts might be given from the newspapers and periodicals of 1739; but the reader has had enough of scurrilous and lying hodge-podge to satisfy the cravings of the greatest gossip.

Such were the premonitory mutterings of the storm in which the Methodist movement was cradled. Mobs threatened; newspapers, magazines, and other periodicals fulminated their malicious squibs; prelates, priests, and doctors of divinity became militant pamphleteers; but, in the midst of all, Wesley and his friends calmly proceeded in their glorious calling. Some even, who were animated with a friendly feeling towards them, looked upon their course of conduct with alarm. Good Dr. Doddridge, in a letter dated May 24, 1739, writes:—

[Pg 252]

Another friend, Mr. T. Hervey, writing in the same month to Samuel Wesley, at Tiverton, says, that he is anxious “to stop the spread and prevalence of several very strange and pestilent opinions;” and expresses the hope that this may be done effectually by the elder brother of Wesley, whom he designates “the dear, but deluded man.” He then proceeds to state that—

This was a kind and well meant letter, but it was pregnant with mistakes. Still it tends to show the enormous difficulties encountered by the Methodists at the commencement of their history. Sometimes they met a friend, though not often; and it is a pleasing duty to introduce godly Joseph Williams, of Kidderminster, as one who sympathised with their indefatigable endeavours to save the souls of their[Pg 253] fellow men. Under the date of September 17, 1739, he writes concerning the two Wesleys, Whitefield, and Ingham:—

“The common people flock to hear them, and, in most places, hear them gladly. They commonly preach once or twice every day; and expound the Scriptures in the evening to religious societies, who have their society rooms for that purpose.” He then proceeds to give an account of his hearing Charles Wesley preach at Bristol. Standing on a table, in a field, the preacher, with eyes and hands lifted up to heaven, prayed with uncommon fervour and fluency. “He then preached about an hour in such a manner as I scarce ever heard any man preach. Though I have heard many a finer sermon, yet I think I never heard any man discover such evident signs of vehement desire” [to benefit his hearers]. “With unusual fervour, he acquitted himself as an ambassador for Christ; and although he used no notes, nor had anything in his hand but a Bible, yet he delivered his thoughts in a rich, copious variety of expression, and with so much propriety, that I could not observe anything incoherent through the whole performance, which he concluded with singing, prayer, and the usual benediction.

“Afterward, I waited on him at Mr. Norman’s. He received me in a very friendly manner. Before he would take any refreshment, he, with a few friends that waited on him, sung a hymn, and then prayed for a blessing, as at set meals. After tea, we sung another hymn; and then I went with them to the religious society, and found the place so thronged, that it was with great difficulty we reached the centre of it. We found them singing a hymn; he then prayed; and proceeded to expound the twelfth chapter of the gospel of St. John, in a sweet, savoury, spiritual manner. This was followed by singing another hymn; and he then prayed over a great number of bills presented by the society, about twenty of which respected spiritual cases. Never did I hear such praying. Never did I see or hear such evident marks of fervency in the service of God. At the close of every petition, a serious Amen, like a gentle, rushing sound of waters, ran through the whole audience. Such evident marks of a lively fervent devotion, I was never witness to before. If there be such a thing as heavenly music upon earth, I[Pg 254] heard it there. I do not remember my heart to have been so elevated in Divine love and praise, as it was there and then, for many years past, if ever. Notwithstanding some errors, which, as mere men, they may be liable to, I cannot but believe that God is with them of a truth, and hath raised them up in this day of general defection from gospel purity, simplicity, and zeal, for signal service and usefulness in His church.”[295]

In a letter to Charles Wesley, written in the month of September, 1739, Williams adds: “I heartily wish you God speed. I bless you in the name of the Lord. Fear not what men can do unto you. With Him your judgment is, and your reward with your God.”[296]

Such a testimony from a man so devout, enlightened, and justly famed as Joseph Williams, the Kidderminster carpet weaver, is quite as weighty as any testimony of an opposite character from either Bishop Gibson, or any priest or prelate then watching on the walls of Zion.

We must now return to Wesley at Bristol. Every night he expounded to societies. These were small gatherings of religious people, which had continued meeting for godly purposes for about the last fifty years;[297] for it is important to remember that the “Religious Societies” formed in the days of Dr. Horneck, previous to the abdication of King James, and again revived in the reign of Queen Mary, were not confined to London and Westminster, but existed in different towns throughout the kingdom. We find them in Oxford, Nottingham, Gloucester, Bristol, Newcastle, Dublin, Kilkenny, and other places; and all acting substantially according to the same rules and regulations. They met to pray, sing psalms, and read the Scriptures together; and to reprove, exhort, and edify one another by religious conference. They also carried out designs of charity, such as supporting lectures and daily prayers in churches, releasing imprisoned debtors, and relieving the poor and sending their children to school. In 1737, Whitefield preached “a[Pg 255] sermon before the “Religious Societies” at one of their general quarterly meetings in Bow church, London, from the text, Ecclesiastes iv. 9‒12, in which he strongly advocated the practice of Christians meeting together for religious fellowship. “As coals,” says he, “if placed asunder, soon go out, but if heaped together, enliven each other, and afford a lasting heat;” so it is with Christians.

Such were the “Religious Societies” which existed for more than half-a-century before the formation of the “United Societies” of the people called Methodists; and in whose rooms and meetings, in London, Bristol, and elsewhere, Whitefield and the Wesley brothers, for a few years, were accustomed to read and explain the Scriptures almost every night. On arriving in Bristol, Wesley found such societies as these assembling in Castle Street, in Gloucester Lane, in Weavers’ Hall, in Nicholas Street, in the Back Lane, and in Baldwin Street, and at once began expounding to them the Epistle to the Romans, and other portions of the New Testament; and it is a remarkable fact that, with one or two exceptions, all the scenes about to be mentioned took place in these society meetings, or in private dwellings. We furnish them as we find them.

[Pg 256]

[Pg 258]

Here we pause. On June 25, Whitefield wrote to Wesley as follows:—

Twelve days after, Whitefield was in Bristol, and Wesley wrote as follows:—

This was an important crisis. Without expressing any opinion respecting these “signs,” as Wesley calls them, we cannot but admire Wesley’s wish and hope that God may be allowed to work His own work in His own way. Of all men living, Wesley was one of the least likely to desire novelties like these; but he was wise enough, and reverent enough, not to interpose when God was working, and to say, that, unless the work was done after a certain fashion, he should object to its being done at all. Some, in modern times, have been in danger of doing this. Sinners have been undeniably converted; but because they have not been converted at the times, or in the places, or by the instrumentalities which men have chosen to commend, they have objected to such conversions, and tacitly desired not to have them multiplied. This was not Wesley’s way. He was one of the greatest sticklers for church order and religious decorum; but he was not the man to protest, that, unless God’s work was carried on in accordance with his own predilections, he should object to it altogether. His words are golden ones, and worth remembering by all his followers:—“From this time, I trust, we shall all suffer God to carry on His own work in the way that pleaseth Him.”

Whitefield’s objections were silenced. He came, he saw, and he was conquered. He writes, under date of July 7:—

We resume Wesley’s notices of what he designates the “signs” of the work of God.

A fortnight after this, Charles Wesley came to Bristol, and John removed to London. The work still progressed at Bristol. In one instance, a woman screamed for mercy, so as to drown Charles’s voice. On another occasion, he “heard on all sides the sighing of them that were in captivity.” “The Lord added to the church daily.”

In London, numbers had been converted under the ministry of Charles Wesley, Whitefield, and others; but there is no evidence to show that there had been any “convulsions” like those at Bristol. It is also a curious fact, that, though Wesley’s preaching on Kennington Common, in Moorfields, and in other places in the metropolis, was crowned with great success, there were hardly any instances of paralysing paroxysms analogous to those already mentioned. When he returned to Bristol, in October, we find a renewal of such cases.

[Pg 262]

The reader must be told that L——y C——r and S——h J——s lived at some distance, and, at the time, were in perfect health. The day after, they were affected in the same way as the poor creature just delivered. Wesley writes:—

A few other cases occurred in 1739; and, notably, one on November 30, when seven persons were grievously tormented, and Wesley and his friends continued in prayer from the time of evening service till nine o’clock next morning, that is, for about fifteen hours, a case almost unparalelled in the history of the church of Christ.

These are strange and mysterious facts; and, what adds to the strangeness, is that, excepting the cases in London, on June 15, 16, and September 17, 18, all of them occurred[Pg 263] in Bristol and its immediate neighbourhood. During the space of time which these extracts cover, Wesley preached at Bath, Kennington Common, Moorfields, Blackheath, Gloucester, Bradford, Wells, Oxford, and in several towns in Wales, and other places; but scenes like those above described were never witnessed except in Bristol. It is also a curious circumstance, that, though the preaching of Charles Wesley and of Whitefield was quite as faithful as the preaching of Wesley himself, and was far more impassioned, yet no such “signs” seem to have been attendant on their ministry as were attendant on his. Similar effects sometimes followed the preaching of Cennick, during Wesley’s absence in London, but these occurred also either at Kingswood or in Bristol. Writing to Wesley under date of September 12, 1739, he says:—

Such are the facts; nothing has been distorted, and nothing kept back. They were occasionally repeated after the year 1739, but not often. A few cases subsequently occurred in Bristol, and also in London, and in Newcastle; but nearly all related in Wesley’s Journals are contained in the extracts already given.

[Pg 264]

What shall be said concerning them? For a hundred and thirty years, they have been sneered at by Wesley’s enemies, and have also puzzled Wesley’s friends. No such results attended Whitefield’s ministry, and Whitefield himself regarded them with suspicion and dislike. Charles Wesley, at Newcastle, in 1743, did his utmost to discourage them. He writes:—

Samuel Wesley was in great doubt respecting them, and, in a letter dated September 3, 1739, asks:—“Did these agitations ever begin during the use of any collects of the Church? or during the preaching of any sermon that had before been preached within consecrated walls without effect? or during the inculcating any other doctrine besides that of your new birth?”[303]

The Rev. Ralph Erskine wrote to Wesley thus: “Some of the instances you give seem to be exemplified, in the outward manner, by the cases of Paul and the gaoler, as also Peter’s hearers (Acts ii.). The last instance you give of some struggling as in the agonies of death, is to me somewhat more inexplicable, if it do not resemble the child of whom it is said, that ‘when he was yet a coming, the devil threw him down and tore him.’ I make no question, Satan, so far as he gets power, may exert himself on such occasions, partly to mar and hinder the beginning of the good work, in the persons that are touched with the sharp arrows of conviction; and partly also to prevent the success of the gospel on others. However, the merciful issue of these conflicts, in the conversion of the persons thus affected, is the main thing.”

[Pg 265]

Erskine proceeds to state, that they have something, in Scotland, analogous to what had occurred in Bristol. Sometimes a whole congregation, in a flood of tears, would cry out at once, so as to drown the voice of the minister.[304]

The Rev. William Hales, D.D., in his “Methodism Inspected,” accounts for these paroxysms on “natural grounds; the sympathetic nature of all violent emotions being well known to those who have studied the physical and moral constitution of man.”

Southey writes:—

Southey forgets that “powerful doctrine” was preached, with as much “passionate sincerity,” by Whitefield and by Charles Wesley, as by Wesley himself; but without the same effects. Besides, it is untrue that Wesley ever “encouraged” the affected people “to abandon themselves to these mixed sensations of mind and body.”

The Rev. R. Watson writes:—

Isaac Taylor writes:—

What says Wesley himself? With due deference to the great names quoted, we respect his testimony more than theirs: first, because he was, in sobriety of feeling, in depth of learning, and in clearness of judgment, at least their equal; and secondly, because his opinion was pronounced after being an eye-witness, whilst theirs is founded entirely upon the representations of others, and their own ideas of how things ought to be.

1. The cases were real, not pretended, and often ended in genuine conversion. “You deny,” writes Wesley at the time, “You deny that God does now work these effects; at least, that He works them in this manner. I affirm both; because I have heard these things with my own ears, and have seen them with my own eyes. I have seen very many persons changed, in[Pg 267] a moment, from the spirit of fear, horror, despair, to the spirit of love, joy, and peace; and from sinful desire, till then reigning over them, to the pure desire of doing the will of God. I know several persons, in whom this great change was wrought in a dream, or during a strong representation to the eye of their mind, of Christ either on the cross, or in glory. This is the fact; let any judge of it as they please.”[305]

2. Why were these things permitted? Wesley says: “Perhaps it might be because of the hardness of our hearts, unready to receive anything unless we see it with our eyes and hear it with our ears, that God, in tender condescension to our weakness, suffered so many outward signs of the very time when He wrought this inward change to be continually seen and heard among us. But although they saw ‘signs and wonders’ (for so I must term them), yet many would not believe. They could not indeed deny the facts; but they could explain them away.”[306]

3. How were these extraordinary circumstances brought about? Wesley again shall answer. Five years after—when he had heard all that his enemies had to say—when such convulsive agitations no longer happened—and when he had had sufficient time to test the genuineness of these remarkable Bristol and Kingswood conversions, and to form a calm judgment upon the whole, he wrote as follows:—“The extraordinary circumstances that attended the conviction or repentance of the people may be easily accounted for, either on principles of reason or Scripture. First, on principles of reason. For how easy is it to suppose, that a strong, lively, and sudden apprehension of the heinousness of sin, the wrath of God and the bitter pains of eternal death, should affect the body as well as the soul, during the present laws of vital union;—should interrupt or disturb the ordinary circulations, and put nature out of its course? Yea, we may question, whether, while this union subsists, it be possible for the mind to be affected, in so violent a degree, without some or other of those bodily symptoms following. Secondly, it is likewise easy to account for these things on principles of Scripture. For when we take a view of them in this light, we are to add[Pg 268] to the consideration of natural causes the agency of those spirits who still excel in strength, and, as far as they have leave from God, will not fail to torment whom they cannot destroy; to tear those that are coming to Christ. It is also remarkable that there is plain Scripture precedent of every symptom which has lately appeared.”[307]

We have nothing more to add. Perhaps the reader will think that more has been said than the thing deserved. We demur to that opinion. The phenomena recorded are among the most remarkable in church history; they are curious and mysterious; they have given rise to endless critiques, both friendly and otherwise, and, for such reasons, merit the space we have devoted to them. Dr. Hales’ doctrine of “the sympathetic nature of all violent emotions,” though true, is not sufficient to account for many of the instances related. Southey’s opinion is flippant, and is based upon false assumptions. Watson’s is of great importance, and, as contained at greater length in his Life of Wesley, is the most elaborate discussion of the subject that has yet been written. Isaac Taylor’s, to some extent, coincides with Wesley’s; which, upon the whole, is the clearest, fullest, and the best.

Other events, belonging to the year 1739, must now be noticed.

Kingswood, so often mentioned, was formerly a royal chase, containing between three and four thousand acres; but, previous to the rise of Methodism, it had been gradually appropriated by the several lords whose estates encircled it. The deer had disappeared, and the greater part of the wood also; coal mines had been discovered, and it was now inhabited by a race of people, as lawless as the foresters, their forefathers, but far more brutal; and differing as much from the people of the surrounding country in dialect as in appearance. They had no place of worship; for Kingswood then belonged to the parish of St. Philip, and was, at least, three miles distant from the parish church.[308] The people were famous for neither fearing God nor regarding man; and so ignorant of sacred things that they seemed but one remove[Pg 269] from the beasts that perish. They were utterly without desire of instruction, as well as without the means of it. The place resounded with cursing and blasphemy. It was filled with clamour and bitterness, wrath and envyings, idle diversions, drunkenness, and uncleanness;[309] a hell upon earth. Only fifteen weeks before Whitefield’s first visit, the colliers had risen with clubs and firearms, and gone from pit to pit threatening the lives of all the workmen who would not join them in defeating the ends of justice, in reference to a riot that had occurred a short time previously. At White Hill, four mines were filled up; and carts, reels, and ropes belonging to others were cut and burned. The soldiers were called out, and the swarthy rioters ran away.[310]

Kingswood was Whitefield’s first field-pulpit, for here, on February 17, 1739, he began his glorious career of out-door preaching. Within six weeks after this, the day before Wesley came to Bristol, Whitefield dined with the colliers, who contributed upwards of £20 towards the erection of a school. Four days after this, the miners prepared him another hospitable entertainment, after which he laid the foundation stone, knelt upon it, and offered prayer, to which the colliers said, “Amen.”[311]

On the same day, Whitefield took his departure from Bristol, leaving Wesley as his successor; and, with the exception of a visit of a week’s duration in the month of July following, he was not at Kingswood again during the next two years. Whitefield began the school at Kingswood: the colliers gave upwards of £20; Whitefield collected £40 in subscriptions; and, on two subsequent occasions, he made collections for the same purpose, once when he preached his farewell sermon at Bristol, on July 13, before embarking for America; and once in Moorfields, when the sum of £24 9s. was contributed.[312] This was all. The rest devolved on Wesley. He alone was responsible for the payment of the debts incurred; and, for many months, wherever he went, he begged subscriptions for the colliers’ school. The school itself consisted of one large room, with four smaller ones for[Pg 270] the teacher’s residence, and was not completed till the spring of 1740.[313] The object was to teach the children of the poor, first religion, and then to read, write, and cast accounts; but Wesley also expected to have “scholars of all ages, some of them grey-headed,” who were to be taught, separate from the children, “either early in the morning, or late at night,” so that their work might not be hindered by their education.[314]

Within six weeks after Whitefield laid the first stone of Kingswood school, Wesley took possession of a piece of ground in the Horse Fair, Bristol, and began to build a room large enough to contain the societies of Nicholas Street and Baldwin Street. This was done without the least apprehension or design of his being personally engaged, either in the expense of the work, or in the direction of it; he having appointed eleven trustees, by whom he supposed the burdens would be borne. He soon found that he had made a great mistake. In a short time, a debt was contracted of more than £150, whereas the subscriptions of the trustees and of the two societies were not a quarter of that amount. This debt devolved upon him. He had no money, nor any human prospect or probability of procuring any; but he knew “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” and he dared to trust Him. Besides this, Whitefield and other friends in London most strongly objected to the building being the property of trustees, on the ground that Wesley would be under their control; and, unless his preaching pleased them, they might eject him from the house he himself had built. Whitefield declared that, unless the trustship was destroyed, neither he nor his friends would contribute anything towards the expenses. Wesley yielded; the trustees were summoned; all agreed to the alteration; the deed was cancelled; and Wesley became the sole proprietor.

This, though insignificant at the time, was a matter of great importance; for, in this manner, nearly all the chapels, erected in the early part of his career, were vested in himself,—a thing involving serious responsibility, which, however, was honourably fulfilled; for trusts were afterwards created; and, by his[Pg 271] “Deed of Declaration,” all his interests in his chapels were transferred to his Legal Conference.

Thus we find Wesley, with no income whatever, except the small amount arising out of his Oxford fellowship, involved in what, to a poor man, were two serious undertakings. But even this was not all the burden that he took upon himself. He spent the beginning of November in London; and whilst there, two gentlemen, then unknown to him, came again and again, urging him to preach in a place called the Foundery, near Moorfields. With much reluctance he consented. He writes:—“Sunday, November 11, I preached at eight to five or six thousand, on the spirit of bondage and the spirit of adoption; and, at five in the evening, to seven or eight thousand, in the place which had been the king’s foundery for cannon.”[315] He was then pressed to take the place into his own hands. He did so. The purchase-money was £115; but the place being “a vast, uncouth heap of ruins,” a large sum additional to this had to be expended in needful repairs, in building two galleries for men and women hearers respectively, and in enlarging a room for the society to almost thrice its present size. To meet this large expenditure, Ball, Watkins, and other friends lent him the purchase-money; and offered to pay subscriptions, some four, some six, and some ten shillings a year towards the liquidation of the debt. In three years, these subscriptions amounted to about £480, leaving however a balance of nearly £300, for which Wesley was still responsible.[316] From this it would seem that the entire cost of the old Foundery was about £800.

This was the first Methodist meeting-house of which the metropolis could boast, and a brief description of it may not be out of place.

It stood in the locality called “Windmill Hill,” now known by the name of Windmill Street, a street that runs parallel with City Road, and abuts on the north-west corner of Finsbury Square. The building was placed on the east side of the street, some sixteen or eighteen yards from Providence Row; and measured about forty yards in front, from north to[Pg 272] south, and about thirty-three yards in depth, from east to west. There were two front doors, one leading to the chapel, and the other to the preacher’s house, school, and bandroom. A bell was hung in a plain belfry, and was rung every morning at five o’clock for early service, and every evening at nine for family worship; as well as at sundry other times. The chapel, which would accommodate some fifteen hundred people, was without pews; but, on the ground floor, immediately before the pulpit, were about a dozen seats with back rails, appropriated to female worshippers. Under the front gallery were the free seats for women; and, under the side galleries, the free seats for men. The front gallery was used exclusively by females, and the side galleries by males. “From the beginning,” says Wesley, “the men and women sat apart, as they always did in the primitive church; and none were suffered to call any place their own, but the first comers sat down first. They had no pews; and all the benches for rich and poor were of the same construction.”[317]

The bandroom was behind the chapel, on the ground floor, some eighty feet long and twenty feet wide, and accommodated about three hundred persons. Here the classes met; here, in winter, the five o’clock morning service was conducted; and here were held, at two o’clock, on Wednesdays and Fridays, weekly meetings for prayer and intercession. The north end of the room was used for a school, and was fitted up with desks; and at the south end was “The Book Room” for the sale of Wesley’s publications.

Over the bandroom were apartments for Wesley, in which his mother died;[318] and, at the end of the chapel was a dwelling house for his domestics and assistant preachers; while attached to the whole was a small building used as a coach-house and stable.[319]

Why was the building called the Foundery? Because, for a number of years, it was used by the government in casting[Pg 273] cannon. When Wesley bought it, the edifice had been a ruin for about twenty years. In 1716, whilst recasting the injured guns taken from the French in the successful campaigns of Marlborough, a terrible explosion blew off the roof, shook the building, killed several of the workmen, burnt others, and broke the limbs of not a few. This led to an abandonment of the place, and the removal of the royal foundery to Woolwich.[320] The next occupants were Wesley and the Methodists; and the echoes of prayer and praise succeeded the clang of anvils and the roar of furnaces of fire.

When first opened, it was described by Silas Told as “a ruinous place, with an old pantile covering,” the structure to a great extent consisting of “decayed timbers,” and the pulpit being made of “a few rough boards.”[321] It may be interesting, to the curious reader, to add, that a few years ago, the old Foundery bell, used in calling the people to the five o’clock preaching, was still in existence, and was attached to the school at Friar’s Mount, London; that, at the present moment, the old Foundery pulpit is preserved at Richmond, and is used by the Richmond students every week; and that the old Foundery chandelier is now in use in the chapel at Bowes, in Yorkshire.

This was really the cradle of London Methodism. Here Wesley began to preach at the end of 1739. The character of the services held in this rotten, pantile covered building may be learnt from Wesley’s Works. Wesley began the service with a short prayer, then sung a hymn and preached (usually about half an hour), then sung a few verses of another hymn, and concluded with a prayer. His constant theme was, salvation by faith, preceded by repentance, and followed by holiness.[322] The place was rough and the people poor; but the service simple, scriptural, beautiful. No wonder, that such a priest, shut out of the elaborately wrought pulpits of the Established Church, and now cooped up within a pulpit made of “rough deal boards,” should be powerful, popular, and triumphant.

Passing from pulpits to preachers, we must venture here to[Pg 274] correct an error, which, from the first, seems to have been current in the Methodist community. All Methodist historians have assumed that Thomas Maxfield was Methodism’s first lay preacher; that is, the first who was allowed to expound the Scriptures without being formally ordained to that holy service. This is a mistake. Thomas Maxfield was not converted until the 21st of May, 1739; and yet, a month after this, we find John Cennick, the converted land surveyor, employed with Wesley’s sanction, in preaching to the Kingswood colliers.

Methodism’s first lay preacher deserves a passing notice. He has never yet had justice done him, and we regret that limited space prevents justice being rendered even here.

John Cennick was the son of Quakers, and, from infancy, was taught to pray every night and morning. At thirteen years of age, he went nine times, from Reading to London, to be apprenticed to a trade, but all to no purpose, except that he was taken on trial by a carpenter, who refused to retain his services when the time was come for his being bound. In 1735, John was convinced of sin, while walking in Cheapside, and, at once, left off song singing, card playing, and attending theatres. Sometimes he wished to go into a popish monastery, to spend his life in devout retirement. At other times, he longed to live in a cave, sleeping on fallen leaves, and feeding on forest fruits. He fasted long and often, and prayed nine times every day. He was afraid of seeing ghosts, and terribly apprehensive lest he should meet the devil. Fancying dry bread too great an indulgence for so great a sinner as himself, he began to feed on potatoes, acorns, crabs, and grass; and often wished he could live upon roots and herbs. At length, on September 6, 1737, he found peace with God, and went on his way rejoicing. Like Howel Harris, he, at once, commenced preaching; and also began to write hymns, a number of which Charles Wesley, in July, 1739, corrected for the press.

We have already seen that, in March, 1739, Wesley and Cennick met at Reading. Shortly after that, Whitefield proposed that Cennick should become the master of the school in Kingswood, whose first stone was laid in the month of May; and, on the 11th of June, off he set on foot, from[Pg 275] Reading to Bristol, sleeping all night in an old stable on his way. On arriving there, he found that Wesley had gone to London; but was invited to go to Kingswood to hear a young man (query, Thomas Maxfield?) read a sermon to the colliers. The place for meeting was under a sycamore tree, near the intended school. Four or five hundred colliers were assembled, but the young reader had not arrived. Cennick was requested to take his place; he reluctantly complied, preached a sermon, and says, “The Lord bore witness with my words, insomuch that many believed in that hour.” Cennick preached again on the day following, and on the succeeding sabbath twice.

Meanwhile Howel Harris came; and, on the ensuing Tuesday, Wesley. How did Wesley receive the two lay preachers? Harris went to Wesley’s lodgings. They fell upon their knees; and Harris writes, “He was greatly enlarged in prayer for me, and for all Wales.” Full of holy feeling, the Welsh evangelist crossed the channel, and found wider doors of usefulness than ever. Cennick too was not restrained. He tells us, that many of the people desired Wesley to forbid him; but, so far from doing so, he encouraged him; and, thus encouraged, he preached constantly in Kingswood and the neighbouring villages for the next eighteen months, and sometimes supplied Wesley’s place in Bristol, when he was absent, preaching in other towns.[323]

Honour to whom honour is due. We repudiate the wish to take from Maxfield a particle of fame, which of right belongs to him; but there cannot be a doubt that John Cennick was one of Wesley’s lay preachers before Maxfield was. Neither is there aught contradictory to this in Wesley’s writings. It is true, that Wesley, after mentioning that the first society was formed at the end of 1739, goes on to say: “After a time, a young man, Thomas Maxfield, came and desired to help me as a son in the gospel;”[324] but this is not opposed to the fact, that John Cennick had already helped him at Kingswood, Bristol, and other places. Myles thinks that it is probable, that Maxfield, Richards, and Westall were all employed by[Pg 276] Wesley in the beginning of the year 1740.[325] Perhaps so; but we have already seen that Cennick was preaching, with the approbation and encouragement of Wesley, as early as the month of June, 1739.[326]

This is not the place to pursue the footsteps of Methodism’s first lay preacher. Suffice it to remark, though his career was comparatively short, in zealous and successful labour it is difficult to equal it. Cennick had his weaknesses; but, in deadness to the world, communion with God, Christian courage, and cheerful patience, he had few superiors. Despite his Calvinism and his differences with Wesley, we admire and love the man. He died in 1755.

Here then was another momentous step taken by the arch-Methodist. Wesley had been bred within a strict ecclesiastical enclosure. He was firm in his attachment to the principles and practices of the English Church, and was far from being indifferent to the prerogatives of its priests; but he was far too wise and reverent a man to say that the salvation of the human family would be too dearly purchased if promoted by a departure from church usages. Christianity, though conserved by church order, does not exist for the sake of it. As a student of church history, Wesley must have known that, again and again, unless order had given way to a higher necessity, the gospel, instead of holding on its way in its brightness and in its purity, would, long ere now, in the hands of idolizers of ancient rules, have been extinguished in the very path where it ought to have shed an unceasing flame. In no man was there a greater combination of docility and courage; and hence, when Wesley met with men like Cennick, full of fervent consciousness of the reality, power, and blessedness of Christ’s religion; and employing a style, terse from intensity of feeling, and copious from the fulness of their theme,—no wonder that, instead of forbidding, he encouraged them to preach the glorious truths, which they not merely understood, but felt.

[Pg 277]

This was a startling innovation; and, doubtless, horrified the stereotyped ministries and priesthoods existing round about; but the fields were white to the harvest, and the labourers were few; and Wesley could not, durst not, forbid an increase to the staff, because the added workers had not been trained in colleges, and came not in all the priestly paraphernalia of surplices and hoods, gowns and bands. No doubt he would have preferred the employment of clerics like himself; but, in the absence of such, he was driven to adopt the measure which we think the salvation of his system, and, in some respects, its glory.

“I knew your brother well,” said Robinson, the Archbishop of Armagh, when he met Charles Wesley at the Hotwells, Bristol: “I knew your brother well; I could never credit all I heard respecting him and you; but one thing in your conduct I could never account for, your employing laymen.” “My Lord,” said Charles, “the fault is yours and your brethren’s.” “How so?” asked the primate. “Because you hold your peace, and the stones cry out.” “But I am told,” his grace continued, “that they are unlearned men.” “Some are,” said the sprightly poet, “and so the dumb ass rebukes the prophet.” His lordship said no more.[327]