PARENTAGE—1600–1670.
Samuel Wesley was the grandson of Bartholomew Wesley, rector of
Catherston, in Dorsetshire. Bartholomew Wesley was born about the year
1600; but the place of his nativity is not known. He received a
university education, a fact indicating, to some extent, the
circumstances and the religious opinions of his parents. Calamy informs
us, that, while at the university, Bartholomew Wesley applied himself to
the study of physic, as well as of divinity; and the knowledge which he
acquired was of great advantage to him in the dark days of his after
life. In 1640 he was inducted to the rectory of Charmouth, and in 1650
to that of Catherston; both of which he held until his ejectment in
1662.
Catherston and Charmouth are villages in the south-western extremity of
Dorsetshire; the former about a mile distant from the latter. Catherston
stands on an eminence, and Charmouth in the valley adjoining it.
Like many others, Bartholomew Wesley was driven from his rectories by
the Act of Uniformity. After this, though he preached occasionally, he
had to support himself and his family by the practice of physic. Calamy
says he used a peculiar plainness of speech, which hindered his being an
acceptable, popular preacher.
Nothing more is known of Bartholomew Wesley, except a story related by
Lord Clarendon, embellished by Anthony á Wood, and retailed by Rapin and
others. Wood calls him “the fanatical minister, sometime of Charmouth,
in Dorsetshire,” who, in 1651, had like to have “betrayed Lord Wilmot
and King Charles II., when they continued incognito in that county,” but
Wood was a man so bitter and intolerant that all he says ought to be
received with caution.
The substance of the story, as given by Clarendon and others, is as
follows:—After the battle of Worcester, in 1651, Charles II. wished to
escape to France, and it was privately arranged that the vessel, in
which he was to cross the channel, was to be near Charmouth on the night
of September 22d. A man was sent to engage for that night the best rooms
at the inn, at Charmouth, for a pretended wedding party, who wished to
stop to refresh themselves and horses. All this being arranged, the
party arrived at the inn, and were secretly assured that about midnight
the long boat, to take them to the vessel, would be at the place
appointed. The King and Lord Wilmot waited at the inn; and Colonel
Wyndam and his man Peters went to the sea-side to look for the boat; but
looked all night in vain. At break of day, they urged the king and Lord
Wilmot quickly to escape from Charmouth for fear of treachery. The
reason why the boat had not come, as was agreed, was, because the wife
of the man who had charge of it suspected what was transpiring, and
locked her husband in his chamber, and would on no account permit him
egress. While Lord Wilmot was obtaining this information, a blacksmith
of the name of Hammet[6] was requested to shoe his lordship’s horse. The
smith, from the fashion of the shoes, declared they had been made, not
in the west, but in the north. Henry Hull,[7] the hostler, hearing this,
stated that the company, of whom Wilmot was one, had sat up all night,
and kept their horses saddled. It was at once inferred, that the party
who had departed from Charmouth that morning, was either the king and
his friends, or some of the king’s distinguished adherents. The hostler
ran to Wesley, the minister, to ask his counsel. Wesley was at his
morning exercise, and being somewhat long-winded, he wearied the
hostler’s patience, who returned to the blacksmith’s shop without
telling his suspicions. In the meantime, Lord Wilmot had mounted and was
gone. The blacksmith then told Wesley what had happened. Wesley went to
the inn to make further inquiries, and then went with the blacksmith to
a magistrate, to give him information, that warrants might be issued for
the apprehension of the suspected fugitives. No warrants, however, were
obtained; but a party pursued the king and his friends as far as
Dorchester, where the pursuit was ended.
-----
Footnote 6:
_Gent. Mag._, 1785, p. 427.
Footnote 7:
_Ibid._
-----
Such is the story in brief; but Clarendon adds that the day when Charles
and his friends were waiting at Charmouth was a day appointed by the
Parliament for a solemn fast, and that a fanatical weaver, who had been
a soldier in the parliamentary army, was preaching against the king in a
little chapel fronting the obscure inn where his Majesty was stopping;
that, to avoid suspicion, Charles was among the weaver’s audience; and
that this was the man who hastened to make inquiries at the inn, and
that applied to a magistrate for a warrant.
John Wesley’s account of this affair is short. Like Clarendon, he
states, that the minister was a weaver, but omits to state that he was
his own great-grandfather. He writes:—“Pursuing his journey to the
sea-side, Charles once more had a very providential escape from a little
inn, where he set up for the night. The day had been appointed by
parliament a solemn fast; and a weaver, who had been a soldier in the
parliament army, was preaching against the king in a little chapel
fronting the house. Charles, to avoid suspicion, was himself among the
audience. It happened that a smith, of the same principles with the
weaver, had been examining the horses belonging to the passengers, and
came to assure the preacher that he knew by the fashion of the shoes,
that one of the strangers’ horses came from the north. The preacher
immediately affirmed that this horse could belong to no other than
Charles Stuart, and instantly went with a constable to search the inn.
But Charles had left before the constable’s arrival.”[8]
-----
Footnote 8:
Wesley’s _History of England_, vol. iii. p. 230.
-----
In a book entitled “Miraculum Basilicon,” by A. J., (Abraham Jennings,)
and published in 1664, there are a few other particulars, in reference
to this occurrence, possessed of some interest. The author calls Wesley
“the puny parson of the place, and a most devoted friend to the
parricides;” and designates the “morning exercise” in which he was
engaged, when the hostler went to him, “his long breathed devotions, and
bloody prayers.” Wesley having heard the rumour about the travellers at
the inn, went to the innkeeper to make inquiries. The writer says,
“Wesley, this pitiful dwindling pastor, posted to the innkeeper, and
with most eager blusterations, catechised him concerning what travellers
he had lodged that night; from whence they came, and whither they would,
and what they did there? His suspicions being increased by the answers
he received, he went to Dr Butler, the next justice of the peace,
requiring a warrant, by which he would stir up the people and the
soldiers to endeavour the apprehending of the king. The justice having
refused to grant the warrant, Captain Massey, who was in the
neighbourhood, at once gathered as many soldiers as he was able, and
followed after the fugitives in the way towards London, until he came to
Dorchester; but, by a most divine instinct, the king turned another way,
crossing the country a little beyond Bridport, and so escaped from his
pursuer Captain Massey!”
Dr A. Clarke has, with great earnestness, endeavoured to make it clear
that Bartholomew Wesley was not the man who tried to entrap King
Charles; and, if Clarendon’s description was literally correct, that the
preacher was a weaver, there would be presumptive evidence in favour of
Clarke’s opinion. It is quite possible that Wesley might have been in
the parliamentary army; but, remembering that he received his education
in the Oxford University, it is hardly probable that he was a weaver
previous to his removal there. The only reasonable way to reconcile
Wood’s statement that Wesley was the minister who informed, with
Clarendon’s assertion that the preacher was a weaver, is to suppose
that, on account of the smallness of his income, Bartholomew Wesley,
like many others, found it expedient to have a spinning-wheel, and to
weave his home-spun yarns into home-made cloths. Admit such a
supposition, and all difficulties vanish. Wesley might have been in the
army; in such a sense, he might be a weaver; and he might be preaching,
and might have King Charles in his Charmouth congregation on the day
already mentioned.
Dr A. Clarke seems to be exceedingly unwilling to admit that Bartholomew
Wesley was guilty of an act so mean as that of giving information
concerning King Charles. As to the meanness or merit of such an act,
opinions will differ. We submit, however, that, in such a case,
Bartholomew Wesley only did his duty. Probably he had been in the
parliamentary army, and had fought for the emancipation of his country
from the perfidious thraldom of the Stuart dynasty. He was now, by the
authority of the parliamentary government, the appointed clergyman of
the two parishes where he lived. Only twelve days before the attempt of
Charles to escape to France from Charmouth, the Parliament had issued a
proclamation, threatening those who concealed the king, or any of his
party; and on the very day when it was arranged for the plan of escape
to France to be carried out, that proclamation had been published two
miles hence, in the adjacent town of Lyme. Let the reader bear all this
in mind, and he will probably conclude that Dr A. Clarke’s earnest
attempt to clear Bartholomew Wesley from the charge of giving
information concerning the royal fugitive, was a labour of love not
needed; and that the whole affair, instead of injuring the rector’s fair
fame, is greatly to his credit. He performed a duty, a painful duty; and
for that he deserves, not excuses, but thanks.
Bartholomew Wesley, after being ejected from his church at Charmouth,
still continued to reside in the same village, and obtained a livelihood
by the practice of physic. He made no secret of the fact that it was his
intention and wish to capture the king; and he jokingly told a gentleman
that he was “confident that, if ever the king came back, he would be
certain to love long prayers; for if he (Wesley) had not been at that
time longer than ordinary at his devotion, he would have surely snapt
him.”[9] His were days of strife, of change, of oppression, and of
sorrow. He lived to a good old age, for he survived his son John, whose
death, in 1678, greatly affected him. He preached when he could, and
administered physic as far as he was able. A local historian writes
concerning the persecuted dissenting Christians in the west: “They were
rewarded with cruel mockings, bonds, and imprisonments; they wandered in
deserts and in mountains; and in dens and caverns they hid themselves.
In the solitudes of Pinney they offered up their prayers, in a dell
between two high rocks, which have ever since been called the
_Whitechapel_ Rocks; and in an old house at Lyme there was recently
discovered an ingeniously concealed oak staircase, capable of admitting
only one person at a time, which led to a small apartment that had been
used as a chapel.” In such places, Bartholomew Wesley joined his
fellow-Christians in the worship which they stealthily presented to
Almighty God. He and they have long since passed to the place where “the
wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.”
-----
Footnote 9:
_Gent. Mag._, 1785, p. 487.
-----
Samuel Wesley’s father was John, the son of the ejected rector of
Catherston and Charmouth, and was born about the year 1636. Even when a
boy at school, he had deep religious convictions and feelings, and began
to keep a diary of God’s gracious dealings with him, which, with slight
interruptions, was continued to the end of life. That diary is now
unfortunately lost, or at all events, if it still exists, no one seems
to know where it is.
At the usual age he was entered a student of New Inn Hall, Oxford, and,
in due course of time, became M.A. At the period when John Wesley
matriculated, Dr John Owen, who was Cromwell’s chaplain, filled the
office of vice-chancellor, and treated the young student with marked
attention. Wesley was serious and diligent, and applied himself
particularly to the study of the Oriental languages, in which he made
great proficiency.
Owen was elected vice-chancellor in 1652, when John Wesley was about
sixteen years of age, and continued in that high office until 1657,
which was a few months before Wesley’s entrance upon the ministry; so
that it is not improbable that Wesley was at Oxford during the whole of
the administration of this distinguished man. Owen found this ancient
seat of learning in an exceedingly disordered state. After withstanding
a long siege, it had recently been obliged to surrender to the
parliament forces, and was now left so desolate, that men said, in their
excitement, it looked like Jerusalem in ruins. Broken trees and trampled
gardens were seen on every hand. Sculptured stones and pictured windows
lay shattered in the grass. Nettles and brambles were growing round the
walls of colleges. The rich wood-work in the quadrangle of Christ Church
had been used for fuel. The halls had been turned into granaries, and
the colleges into barracks. So long had Mars usurped the place of
Minerva, and students been accustomed to exchange cap for helmet, that
the scholastic air had almost vanished. “There was little or no
education of youth. Poverty, desolation, and plunder,—the sad effects of
war,—were to be seen in every corner.” To correct these evils, to curb
the licentiousness of the students, to maintain the rights of the
university, and to support its character for piety and learning, Owen
set himself most vigorously, and he happily succeeded. Anthony Wood
describes him as putting down “formalities and all ceremony, and as
undervaluing his office by going in _quirpo_, like a young scholar, with
powdered hair, snake-bone band strings, a large set of ribbons pointed
at his knees, and Spanish leather boots, with large lawn tops, and his
hat mostly cocked.” Be this as it might, among the students Owen acted
as a father. While he discountenanced and punished the vicious, he
encouraged and rewarded the modest and the indigent; and, under his
administration, the whole body was reduced to good order, and contained
a great number of excellent scholars, and persons of distinguished
piety.
At this period, Dr Thomas Goodwin, distinguished for his piety,
learning, and industry, was president of Magdalen College; George
Porter, a man of great gravity, integrity, self-denial, and charity, was
Proctor of the University; Stephen Charnock was Senior Proctor of New
College; Ralph Button, whom Baxter describes as “a most humble, worthy,
godly man,” was Canon of Christ Church; Thomas Cole, the tutor of John
Locke, was Principal of St Mary’s Hall; John Howe was Fellow of Magdalen
College; Dr Edmund Staunton, who was a living concordance to the Bible,
was President of Corpus Christi College; Dr Wilkins, who married
Cromwell’s sister, and was afterwards Bishop of Chester, was Warden of
Wadham College; Dr Pococke, the greatest Oriental scholar of his time,
was Professor of Arabic. Such were some of the celebrated men who
flourished at Oxford at the time when John Wesley was a student there.
And among others who, during the same period, received a part or the
whole of their academical education in the same university, may be
mentioned:—William Penn, the celebrated Quaker; Philip Henry, the
eminent Nonconformist; Dr South, so famed for his pungent sermons; Sir
Christopher Wren, the illustrious architect; Dr Whitby, the learned
commentator; Launcelot Addison, father to Joseph Addison, the essayist;
Bishops Spratt and Compton, who afterwards ordained John Wesley’s son
Samuel; Bishops Crewe, Cartwright, Hopkins, Ken, Fowler, Wiseman,
Hooper, Marsh, Huntingdon, Cumberland, Turner, and Lloyd; Joseph
Alleine, subsequently John Wesley’s companion in tribulation; and
Charles Morton, in whose academy Samuel Wesley was afterwards a student.
Such were the distinguished contemporaries of Samuel Wesley’s father in
Oxford University.
John Wesley first began to preach, among seamen, at Radipole, a village
about two miles distant from Weymouth. In the meantime the vicar of
Winterborn-Whitchurch died, and the people of that parish wished Wesley
to preach to them as a minister on probation. He went; his ministry and
life gave satisfaction to those who invited him; he passed his
examination before Cromwell’s “Triers;” and, by the trustees, was
appointed to the living. This was in May 1658, when he was about
twenty-two years of age.
Winterborn-Whitchurch is a village about five miles from Blandford, in
Dorsetshire, and in 1851 had a population of 595. The income of the
living, when it was presented to John Wesley, was about £30 a year. He
was promised an augmentation of £100 a year; but, on account of the many
changes in public affairs which soon afterwards took place, the promise
failed in its fulfilment.
Oliver Cromwell died four months after John Wesley was inducted into
this church benefice, and, as a consequence, the nation became more
distracted than ever. There was, in fact, no efficient civil government,
and the ruling power fell wholly into the hands of the army. In 1659,
what was called “The Committee of Safety” was appointed, consisting of
twenty-three persons, who were ordered “to endeavour some settlement of
affairs, by preparing such a form of government as might best comport
with a free state and commonwealth.” The Committee agreed upon seven
articles:—1. That there should be no kingship. 2. That there should be
no single person as chief magistrate. 3. That the army should be
continued. 4. That there should be no imposition upon conscience. 5. No
House of Peers. 6. That the legislative and executive powers should be
in distinct hands. 7. That parliament should be elected by the people.
Inextricable confusion followed. Plotter plotted against plotter, and
the cleverest man was he who could best act the hypocrite. General Monk
and his army wished for the restoration of Charles; but parliament and
the Committee of Safety _seemed_ to be opposed to this; and there was
serious danger of a recurrence of civil wars. John Wesley was a young
man, twenty-three years of age, and for a time appears to have
sympathised with the party represented by the Committee of Safety, and
to have taken up the sword on their behalf; but when Charles was
restored to the throne of his fathers, in 1666, the young soldier
quietly submitted, and took the oath of allegiance and loyalty.
Some of these facts are referred to in the following conversation, taken
from Calamy’s “Nonconformists’ Memorial.” It may be added, that Dr
Gilbert Ironside had been rector of Steepleton and Abbas Winterborn,
parishes in Dorset, not far from where the Wesleys lived. He was
consecrated Bishop of Bristol about the time of Charles’s restoration,
and was informed that John Wesley would not read the Liturgy. The bishop
expressed a desire to see him. Wesley waited upon his lordship; and the
following catechetical interview took place:—
_Bishop._ What is your name?
_Wesley._ John Wesley.
_Bishop._ There are many great matters charged upon you.
_Wesley._ Mr Horloch acquainted me that it was your lordship’s desire
that I should come to you; and, on that account, I am here to wait upon
you.
_Bishop._ By whom were you ordained? or are you ordained?
_Wesley._ I am sent to preach the gospel.
_Bishop._ By whom were you sent?
_Wesley._ By a church of Jesus Christ.
_Bishop._ What church is that?
_Wesley._ The church of Christ at Melcombe.
_Bishop._ That factious and heretical church!
_Wesley._ May it please you, sir, I know no faction or heresy that that
church is guilty of.
_Bishop._ No! Did not _you_ preach such things as tend to faction and
heresy?
_Wesley._ I am not conscious to myself of any such preaching.
_Bishop._ I am informed by Sir Gerrard Napper, Mr Freak, and Mr
Tregonnel of your doings. What say you?
_Wesley._ I have been with those honoured gentlemen, who, being
misinformed, proceeded with some heat against me.
_Bishop._ There are the oaths of several honest men, who have observed
you.
_Wesley._ There was no oath given or taken. Besides, if it be enough to
accuse, who shall be innocent? I can appeal to the determination of the
great day of judgment, that the large catalogue of matters laid against
me are either things invented or mistaken.
_Bishop._ Did not you ride with your sword in the time of the Committee
of Safety, and engage with them?
_Wesley._ Whatever imprudences in civil matters you may be informed I am
guilty of, I shall crave leave to acquaint your lordship, that his
Majesty having pardoned them fully, and I having suffered on account of
them since the pardon, I shall put in no other plea, and waive any other
answer.
_Bishop._ In what manner did the church you speak of send you to preach?
At this rate everybody might preach.
_Wesley._ Not every one. Everybody has not preaching gifts and preaching
graces. Besides, that is not all I have to offer to your lordship to
justify my preaching.
_Bishop._ If you preach, it must be according to order; the order of the
Church of England, upon an ordination.
_Wesley._ What does your lordship mean by an ordination?
_Bishop._ Do not you know what I mean?
_Wesley._ If you mean that spoken of Rom. x., I had it.
_Bishop._ I mean that. What mission had you?
_Wesley._ I had a mission from God and man.
_Bishop._ You must have it according to law, and the order of the Church
of England.
_Wesley._ I am not satisfied in my spirit therein.
_Bishop._ Not satisfied in your _spirit_! You have more new-coined
phrases than ever were heard of! You mean your conscience, do you not?
_Wesley._ _Spirit_ is no new phrase. We read of being “sanctified in
body, soul, and _spirit_,” but, if your lordship like it not so, then I
say, I am not satisfied in my _conscience_, touching the ordination you
speak of.
_Bishop._ Conscience argues science, science supposes judgment, and
judgment reason. What reason have you that you will not be thus
ordained?
_Wesley._ I came not this day to dispute with your lordship; my own
ability would forbid me to do so.
_Bishop._ No, no; but give me your reason.
_Wesley._ I am not called to office, and therefore cannot be ordained.
_Bishop._ Why, then, have you preached all this while?
_Wesley._ I was called to the _work_ of the ministry, though not to the
_office_. There is, as we believe, _vocatio ad opus, et ad munus_.
_Bishop._ Why may you not have the office of the ministry? You have so
many new distinctions! oh, how you are deluded!
_Wesley._ May it please your lordship, because they are not a people
that are fit objects for me to exercise office-work among them.
_Bishop._ You mean a gathered church: but we must have no gathered
churches in England; and you will see it so. For there must be unity
without divisions among us; and there can be no unity without
uniformity. Well, then, we must send you to your church, that they may
dispose of you, if you were ordained by them.
_Wesley._ I have been informed by my cousin Pitfield and others,
concerning your lordship, that you have a disposition opposed to
morosity. However you may be prepossessed by some bitter enemies to my
person, yet, there are others, who can and will give you another
character of me. Mr Glisson hath done it; and Sir Francis Fulford
desired me to present his service to you, and, being my hearer, is ready
to acquaint you concerning me.
_Bishop._ I asked Sir Francis Fulford whether the presentation to
Whitchurch was his. Whose is it? He told me it was not his.
_Wesley._ There was none presented to it these sixty years. Mr Walton
lived there. At his departure, the people desired me to preach to them;
and, when there was a way of settlement appointed, I was by the trustees
appointed, and by the Triers approved.
_Bishop._ They would approve any that would come to them, and close with
them. I know they approved those who could not read twelve lines of
English.
_Wesley._ All that they did I know not; but I was examined touching
gifts and graces.
_Bishop._ I question not your gifts, Mr Wesley. I will do you any good I
can; but you will not long be suffered to preach, unless you do it
according to order.
_Wesley._ I shall submit to any trial you shall please to make. I shall
present your lordship with a confession of my faith, or take what other
way you please to insist on.
_Bishop._ No; we are not come to that yet.
_Wesley._ I shall desire several things may be laid together, which I
look on as justifying my preaching:—1. I was devoted to the service from
my infancy. 2. I was educated thereto, at school and in the university.
_Bishop._ What university were you of?
_Wesley._ Oxon.
_Bishop._ What house?
_Wesley._ New Inn Hall.
_Bishop._ What age are you?
_Wesley._ Twenty-five.
_Bishop._ No sure, you are not!
_Wesley._ 3. As a son of the prophets, after I had taken my degrees, I
preached in the country, being approved of by judicious, able
Christians, ministers, and others. 4. It pleased God to seal my labour
with success, in the apparent conversion of several souls.
_Bishop._ Yea, that is, it may be, to your own way.
_Wesley._ Yea to the power of godliness, from ignorance and profaneness.
If it please your lordship, to lay down any evidences of godliness
agreeing with the Scriptures, and if they be not found in those persons
intended, I am content to be discharged from my ministry; I will stand
or fall by the issue thereof.
_Bishop._ You talk of the power of godliness such as you fancy.
_Wesley._ Yea, the reality of religion. Let us appeal to any commonplace
book for evidences of grace, and they are found in and upon these
converts.
_Bishop._ How many are there of them?
_Wesley._ I number not the people.
_Bishop._ Where are they?
_Wesley._ Wherever I have been called to preach—at Radipole, Melcombe,
Turnworth, Whitchurch, and at sea. I shall add another ingredient of my
mission. 5. When the church saw the presence of God going along with me,
they did, by fasting and prayer, in a day set apart for that end, seek
an abundant blessing on my endeavours.
_Bishop._ A particular church?
_Wesley._ Yes, my lord. I am not ashamed to own myself a member of one.
_Bishop._ Why, you mistake the apostles’ intent. They went about to
convert heathens, and so did what they did. You have no warrant for your
particular churches.
_Wesley._ We have a plain, full, and sufficient rule for gospel worship
in the New Testament, recorded in the Acts of the Apostles and in the
Epistles.
_Bishop._ We have not.
_Wesley._ The practice of the apostles is a standing rule in those cases
which were not extraordinary.
_Bishop._ Not their practice, but their precepts.
_Wesley._ Both precepts and practice. Our duty is not delivered to us in
Scripture only by precepts, but by precedents, by promises, and by
threatenings mixed. We are to follow them as they followed Christ.
_Bishop._ But the apostle said, “This speak I; not the Lord”—that is, by
revelation.
_Wesley._ Some interpret that place, “This speak I now, by revelation
from the Lord”—not the Lord in that text before instanced, when he gave
answer concerning divorce. May it please your lordship, we believe that
“cultus non institutus est indebitus.”
_Bishop._ It is false.
_Wesley._ The second commandment speaks the same: “Thou shalt not make
unto thyself any graven image.”
_Bishop._ That is, forms of your own invention.
_Wesley._ Bishop Andrews, taking notice of “non facies tibi,” satisfied
me that we may not worship God but as commanded.
_Bishop._ You take discipline, church government, and circumstances for
worship.
_Wesley._ You account ceremonies a part of worship.
_Bishop._ But what say you? Did you not wear a sword in the time of the
Committee of Safety, with Demy and the rest of them?
_Wesley._ My lord, I have given you my answer therein; and I further
say, that I have conscientiously taken the oath of allegiance, and
faithfully kept it hitherto. I appeal to all that are around me.
_Bishop._ But nobody will trust you. You stood it out to the last gasp.
_Wesley._ I know not what you mean by the last gasp. When I saw the
pleasure of Providence to turn the order of things, I did submit quietly
thereto.
_Bishop._ That was at last.
_Wesley._ Yet many such men are trusted, and now about the king.
_Bishop._ They are such as, though on the parliament side during the
war, yet disown those latter proceedings; but you abode even till
Haselrig’s coming to Portsmouth.
_Wesley._ His Majesty has pardoned whatever you may be informed of
concerning me of that nature. I am not here on that account.
_Bishop._ I expected you not.
_Wesley._ Your lordship sent your desire by two or three messengers. Had
I been refractory, I need not have come; but I would give no just cause
of offence. I think the old Nonconformists were none of his Majesty’s
enemies.
_Bishop._ They were traitors. They began the war. Knox and Buchanan in
Scotland, and those like them in England.
_Wesley._ I have read the protestation of owning the king’s supremacy.
_Bishop._ They did it in hypocrisy.
_Wesley._ You used to tax the poor Independents for judging folks’
hearts. Who doth it now?
_Bishop._ I did not; for they pretended one thing and acted another. Do
not I know them better than _you_?
_Wesley._ I know them by their works, as they have therein delivered us
their hearts.
_Bishop._ Well, then, you will justify your preaching, will you, without
ordination according to the law?
_Wesley._ All these things laid together are satisfactory to me, for my
procedure therein.
_Bishop._ They are not enough.
_Wesley._ There has been more written in proof of preaching of gifted
persons, with such approbation, than has been answered by any one yet.
_Bishop._ Have you anything more to say to me, Mr Wesley?
_Wesley._ Nothing. Your lordship sent for me.
_Bishop._ I am glad I heard this from your own mouth. You will stand to
your principles, you say?
_Wesley._ I intend it, through the grace of God; and to be faithful to
the king’s majesty, however you deal with me.
_Bishop._ I will not meddle with you.
_Wesley._ Farewell to you, sir.
_Bishop._ Farewell, good Mr Wesley.
This is a long conversation, but it is instructive and useful, (1.) as
casting light upon Church and State affairs, immediately after the
restoration of Charles; and (2.) as furnishing several interesting facts
in the history of Samuel Wesley’s father. Passing over the first, we
learn that John Wesley, like his grandson of the same name, was a man of
sound sense and pluck. He adhered to the parliament and to the
Commonwealth to the last moment; but when he saw that the Commonwealth
was doomed, and that the nation was resolved to restore the Monarchy,
like a man of sense, he laid aside his sword and quietly submitted. His
continued firm adherence to the cause of the Commonwealth—“to the last
gasp,” as the bishop put it—brought him into trouble after the king’s
return; but royal clemency was properly exercised towards him, and there
was an end of the affair. He had preferred another kind of government;
but now that Charles, by the voice of the nation, was seated upon the
throne, Wesley took the oath of allegiance, and faithfully kept it.
It is further evident, from the foregoing conversation, that John Wesley
was never episcopally ordained. From his infancy, he was devoted, by his
God-fearing father, to the work of the ministry, and was educated in
reference thereto, both at school and at college. After leaving the
university, he became a private member of the church at Melcombe.
Authorised by the voice of that church, he began to preach at Melcombe,
Radipole, Turnworth, Whitchurch, and other places. By the bishop’s own
admission, he was a man of “gifts.” His preaching was the means of
converting sinners in every place in which it was exercised. Just at
this juncture, Mr Walton, who had been vicar of the parish of
Winterborn-Whitchurch for fifty-six years, died. Several able ministers,
and judicious Christians, thought young Wesley to be a suitable
successor. The trustees, in whom the presentation was vested, offered
him the living. Cromwell’s Triers, after having examined him as to his
fitness for the ministerial work, gave him their certificate of
approval. And then, as the last step previous to his induction—instead
of ordination by bishops or by presbyters—the church of which he was a
private member set apart a day for fasting and prayer, to seek an
abundant blessing on his labours. Thus qualified, called, and
commissioned, the young evangelist, at the age of twenty-two, entered
upon his ministerial charge; and, laying aside the Liturgy, which had
probably been used by the previous vicar during his long ministry of
fifty-six years, he introduced the Presbyterian, or the Independent,
form of worship, and thereby involved himself in trouble. Some of the
parishioners—as Sir Gerrard Napper, Mr Freak, and Mr Tregonnel—disliked
the change; and, as soon as a bishop was appointed after the
Restoration, they lodged a complaint against their young minister. It is
extremely doubtful whether the bishop at that time—1661—had authority to
interfere in a case like Wesley’s; but he wished to see him; and,
accordingly, knowing that there was no violation of law in his
abandonment of the Liturgy during the last three years, Wesley, with a
fearless heart and unflinching face, sought the bishop’s presence, and
held the characteristic conversation already given.
It is somewhat difficult to determine what Wesley means by his “gathered
church,” and by its members not being fit for him “to exercise
_office-work_ among them.” The probability is, that at the death of old
Mr Walton there were no really converted persons in the parish, and,
therefore, none whom Wesley deemed to be fit and proper persons to
receive the sacrament. His endeavour, for the past three years, had been
to get the people converted, and, to some extent, he had succeeded; but
still, he even yet scarce considered his new converts, the members of
his gathered church, sufficiently instructed and established to justify
him in his exercising “office-work” among them; or, in other words, to
justify him in administrating to them the sacrament of the Lord’s
Supper. If this is not the meaning of this technical and obscure
verbiage, the reader, so far as the writer is concerned, must be content
to remain in ignorance.
Wesley’s conversation with Bishop Ironside occurred sometime during the
year 1661. About the same period he was arrested, on the Lord’s-day, as
he was coming out of church, and was carried to Blandford, where he was
committed to prison. The reason of this arrest was exactly the same as
that which brought him before the Bishop of Bristol. He would not use
the Liturgy. His enemies had accused him to the bishop, but without
effect, for the bishop as yet was really without jurisdiction. King
Charles had appointed bishops to several dioceses, and the Liturgy had
been introduced into those churches, where the ministers were avowedly
Episcopalians; but it was not until the month of November 1661, that the
prayer-book was revised by Convocation; and it was not until August
1662, that the use of it was made binding. It is true that, during the
summer of 1660, a bill had been passed by parliament giving power to
expel from church livings every incumbent that had not been ordained by
an ecclesiastic; and by this act, John Wesley might have been expelled
from the living of Winterborn, Whitchurch. But this was not the ground
taken by Sir Gerrard Napper and the other parishioners who were inimical
to his person and ministry. Probably they were not aware, or were not in
a position to prove, that he had not received ordination; and hence
their illegal plot to imprison and expel him, because, in conducting
divine service in his church, he persisted in his refusal to use the
Book of Common Prayer.
It was within two years after the restoration of Charles II. that Wesley
was arrested and committed to Blandford gaol on such a charge. Sir
Gerrard Napper had been his most furious enemy, and the most forward in
committing him; but after Wesley had lain in prison for a length of
time, Sir Gerrard broke his collar bone, and, perhaps thinking that the
disaster had happened as a judgment upon him for his cruelty to the
young minister, he requested some of his friends to bail him, and told
them, that if they refused, he would give bail himself. At length, by an
order of the Privy Council, dated July 24, 1661, it was directed that he
should be discharged from his then imprisonment, upon taking the oaths
of supremacy and allegiance. He was taken accordingly before a
magistrate, who, for some reason, declined administering the oaths, but
issued a warrant, dated July 29, 1661, commanding him to appear before
the judges of the assizes, to be holden at Dorchester, the 1st of August
following.
He has recorded in his diary the goodness of God in inclining a
solicitor to plead for him, and in restraining the wrath of man, so that
even the judge, though a man of sharp temper, spoke not an angry word.
The sum of the proceedings, as given in his diary, is as follows:—
_Clerk._ Call Mr Wesley of Whitchurch.
_Wesley._ Here.
_Clerk._ You were indicted for not reading the common prayer. Will you
traverse it?
_Solicitor._ May it please your lordship, we desire this business may be
deferred till next assizes.
_Judge._ Why till then?
_Solicitor._ Our witnesses are not ready at present.
_Judge._ Why not ready now? Why have you not prepared for a trial?[10]
-----
Footnote 10:
It will be seen, from the above dates, that two days only elapsed
between the issuing of the warrant against John Wesley and the
commencement of the assizes. No wonder that he was not prepared for
trial.
-----
_Solicitor._ We thought our prosecutors would not appear.
_Judge._ Why so, young man? Why should you think so? Why did you not
provide them?
_Wesley._ May it please your lordship, I understand not the question.
_Judge._ Why will you not read the Book of Common Prayer?
_Wesley._ The book was never tendered to me.
_Judge._ Must the book be tendered to you?
_Wesley._ So I conceive by the act.
_Judge._ Are you ordained?
_Wesley._ I am ordained to preach the gospel.
_Judge._ From whom?
_Wesley._ I have given an account thereof already to the bishop.
_Judge._ What bishop?
_Wesley._ The Bishop of Bristol.
_Judge._ I say, by whom were you ordained? How long is it since?
_Wesley._ Four or five years since.
_Judge._ By whom then?
_Wesley._ By those who were then empowered.
_Judge._ I thought so. Have you a presentation to your place?
_Wesley._ I have.
_Judge._ From whom?
_Wesley._ May it please your lordship, it is a legal presentation.
_Judge._ By whom was it?
_Wesley._ By the trustees.
_Judge._ Have you brought it?
_Wesley._ I have not.
_Judge._ Why not?
_Wesley._ Because, I did not think I should be asked any such questions
here.
_Judge._ I would wish you to read the common prayer at your peril. You
will not say, “From all sedition and privy conspiracy; from all false
doctrines, heresy, and schism. Good Lord, deliver us!”
_Clerk._ Call Mr Meech.
_Meech._ Here.
_Clerk._ Does Mr Wesley read the common prayer yet.
_Meech._ May it please your lordship, he never did, nor he never will.
_Judge._ Friend, how do you know that? He may bethink himself.
_Meech._ He never did; he never will.
_Solicitor._ We will, when we see the new book, either read it, or leave
our place at Bartholomew tide.
_Judge._ Are you not bound to read the old book till then? Let us see
the act.
The act was handed to the judge, and while he was reading it, another
cause was called; and John Wesley was bound over to the next assizes. He
came joyfully home, and preached each Lord’s-day, till August 17, 1662,
when he delivered his farewell sermon to a weeping audience, from Acts
xx. 32; “And now, brethren, I commend you to God, and the word of his
grace.”
Such is the account given by Dr A. Clarke; an account taken, in
substance, from Calamy. Some of the dates are perplexing and doubtful.
Clarke states that this odd sort of assize trial took place in August
1661; and yet from the last remark of the Solicitor,—“When we see the
new book we will either read it, or leave our place at Bartholomew
tide,” it is clear that the “new book” was, to say the least, already
sanctioned; and that the Act of Uniformity was already passed, fixing
Bartholomew tide as the time when every possessor of a church living
must either use the “new Book” of Common Prayer, or be ejected from his
church. Admit this, and then it is undeniable that Wesley was tried at
the assizes, not in 1661, but in 1662; inasmuch as the “new book” was
not prepared by Convocation before November 1661; and the Act of
Uniformity, making the use of it binding, was not passed before the 19th
of May 1662.[11] John Wesley was kept in prison up to within a month of
the mournful 24th of August, when he and two thousand more were
ruthlessly ejected from their churches and their homes. At the very
utmost, he would not have the opportunity of preaching on more than
three Sundays in his church, before Sir Gerrard Napper and his other
enemies had their wishes gratified, by seeing him finally expelled.
There are some other difficulties in the account given by Calamy and
Clarke; but, in a life like this, they are scarcely worth noticing.
-----
Footnote 11:
Calamy says Wesley was arrested in the beginning of 1662.
-----
Little more remains to be said concerning Samuel Wesley’s father. Where
he spent the first six months after his ejectment from his benefice, we
have no means of knowing. Probably, however, he remained in the same
village, where he had spent the last four years, inasmuch as it was here
that his son Samuel was born, only four months after the youthful
minister and his wife were cast out of their vicarage.
On February 22, 1663, when Samuel Wesley was only nine weeks old, his
father and his mother removed to Melcombe. Before their arrival, their
old enemy, Sir Gerrard Napper, and seven other magistrates, by some
stretch of authority, had turned out of office the mayor and aldermen of
the borough, and had put into their place others more subservient to
their will. Accordingly, when young Wesley and his wife, with their
infant child, reached Melcombe, they found that the new corporation had
made an order against their settlement in the town; and that if they
persisted in settling there, a fine of £20 was to be levied upon the
owner of the house in which they lived, and five shillings per week upon
themselves. Wesley waited upon the mayor and some others, pleading that
he had lived in Melcombe previously; and offering to give security for
his proper behaviour; but all was of no avail, for, a few days
afterwards, another order was drawn up for putting the former one into
execution.
These violent proceedings drove John Wesley and his family from the
town, where, a few years before, he had lived beloved by all who knew
him. He now went to Ilminster, Bridgewater, and Taunton, in all of which
places, the Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists, treated him with
great kindness, and where he preached almost every day.
The author of “Joseph Alleine: his Companions and Times,” states that,
from the 11th of March 1663 to the beginning of May in that year, John
Wesley was the “enthusiastic fellow-labourer” of Joseph Alleine. Mr
Sandford adds—“He” (Wesley) “preached almost every day, dividing his
time between Mr Alleine’s people at Taunton and Mr Norman’s at
Bridgewater; he also occasionally ministered to congregations of
Baptists and Independents at both places.”
Alleine was one of the two thousand ministers ejected in 1662; but he,
at once, began to preach in his own house, and in surrounding villages
and towns, and generally delivered from seven to fourteen sermons every
week. He knew that, at any moment, he might be dragged to prison, and
this made him all the more diligent and earnest in improving the time he
had.
Mr Norman, mentioned above, was another of the ejected ministers. He had
good natural abilities, and a considerable stock of learning, and was an
acceptable preacher. With Alleine, and many others, he was sent to
prison for venturing to preach the gospel of his Lord and Master.
“Sirrah,” said Judge Foster, when Norman was arraigned before him in
1663, “Sirrah, do you preach?” “Yes, my lord,” said Norman. “And why so,
sirrah?” “Because I was ordained to preach.” “How was you ordained?” “In
the same way as Timothy.” “And how was that?” “By the laying on of the
hands of the Presbytery.” Norman was sentenced to pay a fine of £100,
and to lie in prison till the fine was paid. As he was being taken to
Ilchester Gaol, the officers called at the house of the High Sheriff.
“Where is now your God?” tauntingly asked the Sheriff’s wife. “Have you
a Bible?” asked Norman. “Yes,” said she. “Bring it,” said Norman. Being
brought he read Micah vii. 8, 9, 10. The poor woman seemed to be
paralysed with fear, and immediately retired; and the dealings of God
with the Sheriff’s family, not long after, caused this text to be
remembered.
This happened in the very month that John Wesley left his friends
Alleine and Norman, for before that month of May in 1663 expired, both
Norman and Alleine were confined in Ilchester Gaol. When Alleine started
off to prison, both sides of the streets of Taunton were lined with his
weeping friends, and many followed him several miles on foot, and made
such lamentations after him that they well-nigh broke his heart.
Arriving at the prison gates, and finding the gaoler absent, he took the
opportunity of preaching before he entered. He was clapped up in the
Bridewell chamber, over the common gaol, Where he found his friend
Norman, who had been committed a few days before him. In this low,
miserable garret, these godly companions of John Wesley spent both day
and night for many months. There were imprisoned with them, in the same
room, fifty Quakers, seventeen Baptists, and also thirteen other
ministers, all arrested, like themselves, for the high crimes of
preaching and praying. The atmosphere was stifling. The summer sun
struck fiercely on the roof all day, and so low was the covering of the
building, that at night, when lying on their mattresses, the prisoners
could touch the glowing tiles. Grasping for life, they had sometimes to
break the Windows, or to remove a tile for the purpose of obtaining air.
Night and day they were compelled to listen to the songs, the curses,
and the clanking chains of the felons in the cells below; and if they
ventured out of their deadly vapour-bath into the prison court, they
were met by the sights of the loathsome and pestilential wretchedness of
the criminals that crossed their paths.[12]
-----
Footnote 12:
Sandford’s _Joseph Alleine_, &c.
-----
It was by a narrow escape that John Wesley was not put into the same
prison as his friends Alleine and Norman.
John Wesley having spent about six weeks at Bridgewater, Taunton, and
Ilminster, a gentleman who had a house at Preston, near Weymouth,
offered to allow him to live in it without paying rent. Thither,
therefore, he removed his young wife and their infant child in the
beginning of May 1663, and thus avoided imprisonment with his friends
whom he left behind. Excepting a temporary absence, shortly to be
noticed, he continued to reside at Preston until his death in 1678.
At one time he strongly wished to go as a missionary to Surinam, a
settlement in Guiana; and at another time, to Maryland, in America—but
in neither instance was his wish accomplished. Probably the advice of
his friends, and the expense of such a journey, presented difficulties
which he found impossible to surmount.
For awhile he seems to have been obliged to give up preaching; and as
there was no public worship except that of the Church of England, in
which the Liturgy was used, he was considerably troubled at being
debarred from joining in sanctuary service; but, by reading Mr Philip
Nye’s “Arguments for the Lawfulness of hearing Ministers of the Church
of England,” his scruples concerning the Liturgy were so far removed
that he was able, with a safe conscience, to attend the church service.
At length he began to preach in private to a few good people in Preston,
and occasionally at Weymouth, and at other places contiguous. After some
time, he had a call from a number of serious Christians at Poole to
become their pastor. He consented, and continued in that capacity while
he lived, administering to them all the ordinances of God as opportunity
offered. In consequence, however, of the Oxford Five Mile Act, passed in
1665, he was often put to great inconvenience. Notwithstanding all his
prudence in managing his meetings, he was frequently disturbed, several
times apprehended, and four times imprisoned—once at Dorchester for
three months, and once at Poole for half a year; and once, at least, he
was obliged to leave his wife, his family, and his flock, and for a
considerable time to hide himself in a place of secrecy. Again and
again, the handful of godly people meeting in the house of Henry
Saunders, mariner, of Melcombe, were arrested for being present at a
conventicle, and were fined, imprisoned, or otherwise punished. Dr
Calamy adds, that John Wesley “was in many straits and difficulties, but
was wonderfully supported and comforted, and was many times very
seasonably and surprisingly relieved and delivered. Nevertheless, the
removal of many eminent Christians into another world, who had been his
intimate acquaintance and kind friends, the great decay of serious
religion among many professors, and the increasing rage of the enemies
of real godliness, manifestly seized on and sunk his spirits; and he
died, when he had not been much longer an inhabitant here below than his
blessed Master was, whom he served with his whole heart, according to
the best light he had.” Application was made to the vicar of Preston to
have him buried in the church; but the application was refused; and, in
the churchyard, no stone tells where his ashes lie, nor is there any
monument to record his worth.
From the concluding sentence of Dr Calamy, it would seem that John
Wesley died about the early age of thirty-three or thirty-four. He left
behind him two sons, Samuel and Matthew, and a faithful wife, who
remained his widow for about half a century.
Limited space forbids further details concerning Samuel Wesley’s father;
in fact, further details do not exist. John Wesley, though young in
years, evinced a mind elevated far above the common level, even of those
who have had the advantages of a collegiate education. He was no
unthinking zealot or timid changeling. He had made himself master of the
controverted points between the Established Church and Dissenters, and
his opinions, being founded upon conviction, were held with the fidelity
of a martyr’s grasp. To say nothing of other facts, his interview with
the Bishop of Bristol displays the same sincere and zealous piety, the
same manly sense, and the same heroic yet respectful boldness, which
distinguished his son Samuel and his grandsons John and Charles in after
years. Dr A. Clarke adds, that from the same conversation the reader may
learn two important facts:—1. That the grandfather of the founder of
Methodism was a lay-preacher. 2. That he was an itinerant evangelist.
Indeed we find in John Wesley’s history an epitome of the Methodism
which sprang up, through the instrumentality of his grandsons John and
Charles; his mode of preaching, matter, manner, and success, bearing a
striking resemblance to theirs and to their coadjutors.
We can only add, that a portrait of John Wesley is published in the
_Methodist Magazine_ for 1840. The hair is long, and parted in the
middle. The forehead is capacious, the nose large, the eyes soft and
sweet, the face without whiskers, and the general expression of the
countenance highly sad and thoughtful.
Before leaving the parentage of Samuel Wesley, a few words must be said
concerning his mother. She was the daughter of one distinguished man and
the niece of another. Her father was the Rev. John White, one of the
three assessors of the Assembly of Divines, and long known as “the
Patriarch of Dorchester;” a man whom Fuller describes as being grave
without being morose, and who, in the course of his ministry, “expounded
the Scriptures all over and half over again;” a man who had the command
of his own passions and of the purses of his parishioners; for he was so
much beloved by his people that, “he could wind them up to what height
be pleased.”
John White was born at Stanton St John, in December 1574. After two
years of probation at Winchester school, he was admitted perpetual
fellow of New College, Oxford, in 1595. Here he took his degrees in
arts, was admitted into holy orders, and became a frequent preacher in
and about Oxford. In 1606, he obtained the rectory of Trinity Church,
Dorchester. About 1624, he and some of his friends projected the new
colony of Massachusetts, in New England, and, after surmounting many
obstacles, secured a patent. The object was to provide an asylum for the
persecuted fugitives, who were not able to conform to the ceremonies and
discipline of the Church of England. White himself had scruples
respecting the worship and proceedings of the same church; and, in 1630,
was prosecuted by Archbishop Laud, in the High Commission Court, for
preaching against Arminianism and the ceremonies. He was also a sufferer
during the civil wars, a party of horse in the neighbourhood of
Dorchester, under the command of Prince Rupert, having plundered his
house and taken away his library. On this occasion, he made his escape
to London, and was appointed minister of the Savoy. In 1640, he was one
of the learned divines directed to assist in “a committee of religion,”
appointed by the House of Lords. In 1643, he was chosen to be one of the
Westminster Assembly of Divines. Two years after, he succeeded the
ejected Dr Featley as rector of Lambeth, and had assigned to him the use
of his predecessor’s library, until his own, carried away by Prince
Rupert’s soldiers, should be returned to him. In 1647, he was offered
the wardenship of New College but refused it, and, as soon as possible,
returned to his old flock at Dorchester, for whom he had the greatest
affection, and where he had passed the happiest of his days. He died
suddenly at Dorchester, July 21, 1648, when John Wesley, who married his
daughter, was only twelve years old. John White was a man of great zeal,
activity, and learning; and even Anthony à Wood allows that he was “a
most moderate Puritan.” By his wisdom the town of Dorchester was greatly
benefited, and, for many years, he exercised a patriarchal influence
among the inhabitants; but, towards the end of his days, factions and
adverse opinions crept in among his flock, and a new race sprung up, who
either knew not or refused to acknowledge the worth of this godly man.
“Of such disrespect,” says Fuller, “he was sadly and silently sensible.”
He married the sister of Dr Burgess, the great Nonconformist, who
afterwards, being reclaimed to the Church of England, wrote in its
defence. The works of John White are—1. “A Commentary upon the First
Three Chapters in Genesis;” 2. “A Way to the Tree of Life, discovered in
sundry Directions for the Profitable Reading of the Scriptures;” 3. “A
Digression concerning the Morality of the Fourth Commandment,” printed
and published with the preceding; 4. A few sermons.
The mother of Samuel Wesley was the daughter of this distinguished man.
Probably she was his youngest child, as there is evidence to show that
she survived her father for more than sixty years.
She was the niece of another man of mark, the celebrated Dr Fuller.
Thomas Fuller was, in many respects, a remarkable character. At the age
of twelve, he was deemed fit for the studies of the university, whither
he was sent accordingly. When he was three-and-twenty he was collated to
a prebend’s stall in Salisbury Cathedral. Soon after this, he became
rector of Broad Windsor, in Dorsetshire. At the age of thirty-three, he
removed to London, where he officiated as lecturer in the Savoy Church
in the Strand. After this, his life was chequered, but his pen was
hardly ever idle. In succession he published his “Pisgah Sight of
Palestine,” “Church History of Britain,” “A Defence of it against Dr
Heylin,” “History of the Holy War,” “History of the Worthies of
England,” all in folio. He was appointed chaplain to Charles II., was
created doctor of divinity, and bid fair to become a bishop, when he was
seized with fever, of which he died in 1661. His funeral was attended by
two hundred of the clergy, showing the high estimation in which he was
held. His writings possess much learning, wit, and humour, with an
elaborate display of quaint conceit, a quality highly thought of at the
time he wrote, and which, in him, appears to have been natural. He was
an almost unequalled punster, but sometimes met his match. Once, when
attempting to play off a joke upon a gentleman, whose name was
Sparrowhawk, he received the following retort:—“What,” said Fuller, who
was very corpulent, “what is the difference between an owl and a
sparrowhawk?” “It is,” replied the other, “_fuller_ in the head,
_fuller_ in the body, and _fuller_ all over.” Thomas Fuller was not only
eminent for his learning, his writings, and his wit, but also for his
prodigious memory. He could repeat five hundred strange and unconnected
words after twice hearing them, and a sermon verbatim after he had heard
it once. He undertook, after passing from Temple Bar to the farthest end
of Cheapside and back again, to mention all the signs over the shop
doors, in regular succession, on both sides of the streets, and to
repeat the names both backwards and forwards; and this almost incredible
task he performed with the utmost exactness.
Such, then, were the father and the uncle of Samuel Wesley’s mother. Of
herself little is known. As already shown, her father died when she was
young. Her uncle died when her husband was suffering imprisonment for
conscience’ sake. Her husband died about the early age of thirty-four,
leaving her nothing but his holy example, his loving prayers, and at
least two young children. How she obtained a living, in the early years
of her widowhood, there is no evidence to show; but, in her later years,
she was obliged to depend on the little help of £10 per annum, which her
son Samuel was accustomed to squeeze out of his sadly too small Epworth
income. The whole of her married life was one continued scene of
persecution; and the forty years of her long and dreary widowhood, was
an unceasing struggle with poverty and its attendant pain. She was alive
in 1710.—See Clarke’s “Wesley Family,” vol. ii. p. 144. Would that we
knew more of her suffering history!
[The facts in this chapter have been collected from Beal’s _Fathers of
the Wesley Family_, Clarendon’s _History of the Rebellion_, Anthony
Wood’s _Athenæ Oxoniensis_, Orme’s _Life of Dr John Owen_, Chalmers’s
_General Biographical Dictionary_, Fuller’s _Worthies of England_; and
also from other books and tracts mentioned in the chapter itself.]