UNIVERSITY DAYS—1683—1688.
Samuel Wesley left the Dissenters in 1683. Why? His son, the Rev. John
Wesley, shall answer. His statement is as follows:—
“Some severe invectives being written against the Dissenters, Mr S.
Wesley, being a young man of considerable talents, was pitched upon to
answer them. This set him on a course of reading, which soon produced an
effect different from what had been intended. Instead of writing the
wished-for answer, he himself conceived he saw reason to change his
opinions; and actually formed a resolution to renounce the Dissenters,
and attach himself to the Established Church. He lived at that time with
his mother and an old aunt, both of whom were too strongly attached to
the Dissenting doctrines to have borne, with any patience, the
disclosure of his design. He therefore got up one morning, at a very
early hour, and, without acquainting any one with his purpose, set out
on foot to Oxford, and entered himself of Exeter College.”
Samuel Wesley’s own account is, in substance, the following:—While he
was a student in the Dissenting academies in London, Dr Owen wished him
and some others to graduate at the universities, on the ground that the
Dissenters were expecting the times to change, and that in a little
while their party would be looked upon with greater favour, and their
pupils be allowed to take university degrees. Owen, however, insisted
that on no account whatever ought they to take the oaths and
subscriptions.
While Wesley was still in doubt whether to adopt Dr Owen’s advice, he
began to study for himself the usual arguments for separating from the
Church. He writes—“I earnestly implored the divine direction in a
business of so weighty a concern, and on which so much of my whole life
depended. I examined things over and over, as calmly and impassionately
as possible; and the farther I looked, still the more the mist cleared
up, and things appeared in another sort of light than I had seen them in
all my life before. So far were the sufferings of the Dissenters at that
time from influencing my resolution to leave them, that, I profess, it
was a thing which retarded me most of any. The ungenerosity of quitting
them in their meaner fortunes, when I had been a sharer in their better,
I knew not how to get over. Still, I began to have some inclinations to
the University, if I knew how to get thither, or to live there when I
came; but then I was not acquainted with one soul of the Church of
England, or, at least, with none to whom I might address myself for
assistance or advice.
“I was now offered employment among the Dissenters, (having been with
them nearly four years,) either in a gentleman’s house, or as chaplain
to an East Indian ship; but my inclinations were more for Oxford, where,
I thought, I might have opportunities more fully to study the point
which I was now almost resolved upon.
“Still there were some rubs lay in my way thither, which our people
generally urged to prevent us from such intentions. I was told (1.) that
the Universities were so scandalously debauched that there was no
breathing for a sober man in them; (2.) that the Church of England, so
far from encouraging Dissenters to close with her communion, generally
frowned on those who did so, and never loved nor trusted them; and (3.)
that the nation was so unanimously against the Church of England, that
the bishops and hierarchy would certainly have a speedy fall; and even
rats and mice were wise enough to quit a tumbling house, and not to run
into it.”
In reference to the first of these objections, he says—“I resolved not
to believe a word about Oxford debauchery till I saw it, for which now a
very happy opportunity offered. Dr Owen having died, the trustees of the
£10 exhibition[18] requested me to enter the university with all speed.
To this end I went to Oxford, and stayed there some time. I found many
sober and religious men, as well as some Rakehells; and discoursed
several points on which I still hesitated a little, and received
satisfaction on them.”
-----
Footnote 18:
The £10 exhibition was one of upwards of twenty more, left by Dr G.
for the benefit of young scholars designed to be ministers.
-----
He adds, that having been so long with the Dissenters, he still thought,
even after he went to Oxford, that Episcopacy would be abolished; and
not being willing to be over hasty, he returned to London to give the
subject further consideration. Soon after his return, he had £20 given
him,—part of a considerable some of money, left by a Dissenter, to be
distributed among ministers. With this he paid his debts, as far as it
would go, and then resolved for Oxford as soon as possible,—whither
accordingly he went, in the name of God, and entered himself there, the
—— day in August 1683, a servitor of Exeter College.
When he had been some months at college, and after several letters had
passed between them, he was “followed by a young gentleman, one of his
fellow-pupils at his first tutor’s, who was now a Fellow of Exeter
College, and ordained a priest.”[19]
-----
Footnote 19:
S. Wesley’s _Letter from a Country Divine_. Third edit. 1706.
-----
This is all that is known of the reasons that induced Samuel Wesley to
leave the Church of his fathers, except another little incident
mentioned by himself. He writes—“A reverend and worthy person, my
relation, who lived at a great distance, coming to London, was so kind
as to see me while I was at Mr Morton’s, and gave me such arguments
against the Dissenting schism, which I was then embarked with, as added
weight to my resolutions, when I began to think of leaving it.”
The above account differs from the accounts which previous biographers
have published; but, being taken from Mr Wesley’s own writings, there
can be no doubt of its correctness.
When Samuel Wesley set out for Oxford, all that he possessed was
forty-five shillings. By leaving the Dissenters, he had forfeited the
friendship of all the friends he had. His mother was a poor forlorn
widow, utterly unable to afford him help; and yet, this well-nigh
penniless young man resolves to obtain for himself a university
education and university degrees. He was nearly five years at college;
and yet, five shillings was all the assistance which, during that
period, he received from his family and friends. To ride to college was
a thing not to be thought about. To use his own expression, he “_footed
it_.” His books, his clothes, and his other luggage, were all probably
carried in a knapsack on his back. Thus the young student entered
Oxford, friendless and well-nigh moneyless, in 1683; and, five years
after, he left it, not dishonoured, but with B.A. attached to his
subsequently distinguished name,—having managed to support himself, and
to pay his fees, by his own endeavours, and to bring away with him a
purse more than four times heavier than the purse he took. He started
with forty-five shillings: he left with two hundred and fifteen. How was
this accomplished? We shall shortly see.
The following description of Exeter College is taken from “A Pocket
Companion for Oxford,” published in the middle of the eighteenth
century:—The front of Exeter College is 220 feet long, in the centre of
which is a magnificent gate, with a tower over it. The building within
chiefly consists of a large quadrangle, formed by the hall, the chapel,
the rector’s lodgings, and the chambers of the students. The gardens are
neatly disposed, and, though within the town, have an airy and pleasant
opening to the east. The library is well furnished with books in the
several arts and sciences, and with a very valuable collection of the
classics, given by Edward Richards, Esq. It also contains a large
orrery, the gift of Thomas Blackall, Esq. The hall was built by Sir John
Ackland, and the chapel by Dr Hakewell. Hakewell was a man of eminence.
Having been appointed chaplain to Prince Charles, he deemed it his duty
to attempt to convince his royal pupil that he would act wisely in
abandoning his contemplated marriage with the Infanta of Spain. This so
enraged Charles’s father, that he ordered Hakewell to be arrested and
imprisoned. Under the reign of Charles, however, he was promoted to the
bishopric of Worcester, and was elected Rector of Exeter College. When
the civil wars commenced, he submitted to the authority of Parliament,
and retained his office as rector of the college till his death, in
1649. His chief work is a folio volume, on the “Power and Providence of
God.”
The founder of Exeter College was Walter Stapleton, Bishop of Exeter,
Lord Treasurer of England, and Secretary of State to King Edward II.,
1316. He founded a society of thirteen—that is, a rector and twelve
fellows—one of whom, the chaplain, was to be appointed by the dean and
chapter of Exeter; eight were to be elected out of the archdeaconries of
Exeter, Totnes, and Barnstaple; and four out of the archdeaconry of
Cornwall. Among the subsequent benefactors of Exeter College was Edmund
Stafford, Bishop of Exeter, who settled two fellowships for the diocese
of Sarum. Sir William Petre obtained a new charter and new statutes, and
founded eight additional fellowships. Charles I. added one for Jersey
and Guernsey; and Mrs Shiers added two more for Hertford and Surrey. The
number of students was about eighty, and the visitor was the Bishop of
Exeter.
Samuel Wesley entered this college as a _servitor_. A “servitor” means a
scholar or student, who attends and waits on another scholar or student,
and receives, as a compensation, his maintenance. Such was the position
of young Wesley. There was no help for it. He was determined to secure
the benefits of a university education; and, in the absence of money and
of friends, he became a servant to some other scholar in order to find
himself bread. There was no disgrace in this; and yet, it is not
difficult to imagine that such a “servitor,” notwithstanding his
cleverness, would be subjected to taunts from beardless youths, who, in
all respects excepting one, were vastly his inferiors. Here was a young
man, twenty-one years of age, respectably connected, highly educated,
but well-nigh as poor as poverty could make him, resolved upon the
acquisition of academic fame; and, in the struggle, battling with his
innate pride, and patiently, if not cheerfully, submitting to annoyances
for the sake of obtaining that upon which his heart was set.
Difficulties, which would have discouraged others, aroused him; and he
resolved to conquer or to die.
Samuel Wesley was a servitor; and he was also entered as _pauper
scholaris_, which was the lowest of the four conditions of members of
the Exeter College. He began as low as he could begin; but struggling
with discouragements increased his strength instead of lessening it. He
rose superior to his obstacles. Besides attending to the humiliating
duties of a servitor, he composed exercises for those who had more money
than mind, and gave instructions to those who wished to profit by his
lessons; and thus, by unwearied toil and great frugality, the poor,
fatherless, and friendless scholar, not only managed to support himself,
but when he retired from Oxford in 1688, he was seven pounds fifteen
shillings richer than he was when he first entered it in 1683. Who can
tell his struggles during the five years of privation spent at this
great seat of learning? His _servitorial_ services might obtain him
bread; but what about the payment of his fees, the purchase of his
clothes, and the procuring of fire? The first winter of his residence at
Oxford, was one of the severest recorded in the annals of English
history. Calamy tells us that “the Thames was frozen over, and the ice
so firm and strong, that there were hundreds of booths and shops upon
it. Coaches plied as freely from the Temple Stairs to Westminster, as if
they had gone upon the land. All sorts of diversions were practised on
the congealed waters, and even an ox was roasted whole on the river,
over against Whitehall.” Such was the bitter commencement of Samuel
Wesley’s collegiate life; and, at the most, he only had about two
pounds, in his almost needless purse, to meet it.
“Necessity is the mother of invention.” It was this, probably, that
induced Samuel Wesley to publish his first work in 1685. Whilst he was
at Mr Veal’s and Mr Morton’s academies, he wrote a number of boyish
rhymes, several of which were recited from the platforms of those
academies, and gained applause from the tutors and pupils present. Other
poetical pieces of a similar description were written after he went to
Oxford; and the whole, during the second year of his residence, were
published under the title of “Maggots; or Poems on several subjects
never before handled, by a Scholar, London. Printed for John Dunton, at
the sign of the Black Raven, near the Royal Exchange, 1685.”
This book will neither instruct the reader, nor contribute to the
author’s literary fame; and yet, because it was the first book published
by an eminent literary man; and because it is now so extremely scarce,
that hardly one Wesleyan student in a thousand has ever seen it, a brief
description of it may be interesting, if not useful.
The book begins with an anonymous portrait of the author, crowned with
laurel, and having a Maggot seated on his brow. Beneath the portrait are
the following lines:—
“In his own defence the author writes,
Because when this foul maggot bites,
He ne’er can rest in quiet:
Which makes him make so sad a face,
He’d beg your worship, or your grace,
Unsight, unseen, to buy it.”
The book consists of 172 pages; and is dedicated “To the honoured Mr H.
D——, Head Master of the Free School in D——, in the county of D——.” “Mr
H. D——” was Mr Henry Dolling, who was Samuel Wesley’s schoolmaster at
Dorchester. In the dedication, he informs us that this book is his
“first formed birth,” and, in his epistle to the reader, he says that
“all the Maggots are the natural issue of his own brain pan, born and
bred there, and only there.” In reply to the objection, that the work is
“light, vain, frothy, and below the gravity of a man, at least of a
Christian,” he says, if the objector will lend him a handful of beard,
and be at the charge of grafting it on, he will promise a speedy and
thorough reformation. Besides, he argues, that time ought to be allowed
for recreation as well as work; and, moreover, he hopes that he has
written nothing to make even himself or his reader blush. He was never
vain enough to think that his “Maggots” would procure him much
reputation; neither was he ambitious of seeing his worthy name
glittering in a Term Catalogue; and therefore he thought it not worth
his while to throw away better time in making his book more perfect.[20]
-----
Footnote 20:
For the titles of the poems, see Appendix A.
-----
Many of the poems flash with wit, and are most pleasantly expressed.
Sometimes there is a want of delicacy; but that, perhaps, is not so much
the fault of the man, as of the age in which he wrote. Southey says,
“His imagination seems to have been playful and diffuse; and had he
written during his son’s celebrity, some of his pieces might perhaps
have been condemned by the godly as profane.” Dr A. Clarke demurs to
this, and not without reason. There are in the “Maggots” what the
present refined age would call indelicate and coarse expressions; but,
in this respect, Samuel Wesley was only imitating Dryden and the
standard writers of the period in which he lived.
Several of the poems are levelled against the vices of the day, and are
scorchingly severe; but it would scarcely answer any good purpose to
reproduce them.
We merely give one extract, taken from the piece on “the Tobacco Pipe,”
and which is a fair specimen of the entire book. Perhaps, also, it
indicates that he had already fallen into the unfortunate habit of
smoking, which will have to be noticed in due time:—
“In these raw mornings, when I’m freezing ripe,
What can compare with a tobacco pipe?
Primed, cock’d, and touch’t, ’twould better heat a man
Than ten Bath faggots, or Scotch warming pan.
For the toothache ’tis a specific aid,
For every amorous boy, or lovesick maid.
Sometimes another way to work ’twill go,
Up spouts a deluge from the abyss below;—
This physic is more safe, (though not so fine,)
Than bumpers crown’d too oft with sparkling wine.
A glass is not a better cure than that,
For care, or toothache, both of which would kill a cat.
Surely when Prometheus climb’d above the poles,
Slyly to learn their art of making souls,
When of his fire he fretting Jove did wipe,
He stole it thence in a tobacco pipe;
Which, predisposed to live, as down he ran,
By the soul’s plastic power, from clay was turn’d to man.”
In the “Dunciad”[21] of Alexander Pope, there is a line which seems to
refer to Samuel Wesley’s “Maggots.” The reference is not clear and
undeniable; but still it has an air of probability. In his first book,
line 53, Pope writes:—
“Here she beholds the chaos dark and deep,
Where nameless somethings in their causes sleep,
’Till genial Jacob, or a warm third day
Call forth each mass, a poem or a play.
How hints, like spawn, scarce quick in embryo lie!
How new-born nonsense first is taught to cry!
_Maggots_ half form’d, in rhyme, exactly meet,
And learn to crawl upon poetic feet!
Here one poor word a hundred clenches makes,
And ductile dulness new meanders takes;
There motley images her fancy strike,
Figures ill-pair’d, and similes unlike.”
-----
Footnote 21:
Edition 1729.
-----
This first book of Samuel Wesley’s was published by the eccentric John
Dunton, who was born three years before Wesley, and therefore was now a
young publisher, of not more than twenty-six years of age. His father
was a clergyman, and he was intended for the same profession; but, being
found too volatile, he was apprenticed to Thomas Parkhurst, the most
eminent Presbyterian bookseller in the three kingdoms. Wesley was
acquainted with Dunton before he went to Oxford. A year previous to his
removal thither, he was present at Dunton’s wedding, and presented to
the happy couple an epithalamium. The object of Dunton’s choice was
Elizabeth, one of the daughters of Dr Samuel Annesley, and sister of her
who six years afterwards became the wife of Wesley. Dunton commenced
business near the Royal Exchange. His affairs prospered for the first
three years, until the stagnation cast upon trade by the defeat of
Monmouth in the west. In the same year that he published Wesley’s
“Maggots,” he sustained some serious losses, and went to America to
repair his fortune. Twelve months afterwards, he came back to his wife
and to her father; but, on account of his pecuniary embarrassments, he
was, for nearly a year, a sort of domestic prisoner, and, to avoid
arrest, durst not cross the threshold of the house in which he lived.
The only time, in the course of ten months, that he ventured to go out
of doors, was on a Sunday to hear Dr Annesley, his father-in-law,
preach. To prevent detection, he shaved off his beard, and put on a
woman’s clothes. He got safe to the meeting-house, and sat down in the
obscurest corner he could find. He was returning home, through
Bishopsgate Street, with all the circumspection and care imaginable,
when an unlucky rogue cried out, “I’ll be hanged if that be not a man in
woman’s clothes!” Away Dunton ran as fast as his legs could carry him; a
mob of twenty or thirty persons ran after him; but his intimate
knowledge of the alleys in that part of the city, enabled him to dodge
and get rid of his pursuers, and, in great trepidation he reached his
house without arrest.[22] Dunton became wearied with this confinement,
and made a trip to Holland, Flanders, and Germany, and returned to
London in 1688. On the same day that the Prince of Orange entered the
capital, Dunton re-opened his place of business. Here he printed six
hundred books, and says, there were only seven of them which occasioned
him repentance. In 1692 he became possessed of a considerable estate, by
the decease of a cousin, and was elected a member of the Company of
Stationers. At the age of thirty-eight he was bereaved of his first
wife, whose decease he bitterly lamented; but, before the year was out,
consoled himself by another marriage with Sarah, daughter of Mrs
Nicholas of St Albans. This lady added neither to his comfort nor his
fortune. He left her soon after they were married, and became
financially embarrassed to the end of life. He died in obscurity two
years before Samuel Wesley, in 1733, aged seventy-four.
-----
Footnote 22:
Dunton’s _Life and Errors_.
-----
Dunton was a strange mortal; a man half mad, and yet possessed of
genius, and a dabbler in all sorts of books. In 1710 he produced his
“Athenianism; or, New Projects,” in which he actually announced his
intention to publish six hundred distinct treatises, all written by
himself. He was far too wild and whimsical to be prosperous.
His description of himself is amusingly characteristic. He says, he was
of middle stature; his hair black and curled; his eyes quick and full of
spirit; his lips red and soft; his face, though not so beautiful as
some, yet rendered amiable by a cheerful, sprightly air; his body
slender and well proportioned; and his spirit pious and devout. He was
plentiful in wit; his way of writing excellent; he had great skill in
poetry; his temper was sweet; and he was the most passionate and
constant lover living. His friendship was courted by all who knew him.
He was hard to be displeased; and, when offended, was easy to be
reconciled. His soul was tender and compassionate; and his modesty more
than usually great.
In completing this modest portraiture of himself, Dunton adds, “To
finish this imperfect description, I must sincerely say, I have all
those good qualities that are necessary to render me an accomplished
gentleman.”
Such was John Dunton, the publisher of Samuel Wesley’s first literary
production. Dunton says, “The rector of Epworth got his bread by the
‘Maggots;’” but Dunton, when he wrote that, had imbibed an implacable
hatred towards Wesley, and what he says must be received with caution.
No doubt the college finances of young Wesley were extremely low, and,
perhaps, in publishing his “Maggots,” he had some hope of raising them;
but it is scarce likely that the poor scholar would gain much by his
adventure, inasmuch as, from the size of his book, the publishing price
did not probably exceed a shilling.
Samuel Wesley’s time at the university was well occupied. First of all,
he had to attend to his duties as servitor, for on that, to some extent,
his maintenance depended. Then, to obtain money for the payment of his
fees, he gave assistance to other students not so far advanced, nor so
willing to submit to hard work as he was. Then he had to prepare for his
own examinations, on the result of which depended his obtaining a
university degree; and this he did so successfully, that on the 19th of
June 1688, he was created Bachelor of Arts; the only student of Exeter
College that, during that year, obtained such a distinction.[23]
-----
Footnote 23:
Anthony Wood.
-----
Such labours were onerous; but, whilst his time must have been greatly
occupied with his daily duties, his benevolent heart would not permit
him to live wholly to himself. He was not only ambitious to raise
himself, but he likewise yearned to benefit others; and, it is a
remarkable coincidence, that the objects of his sympathy were exactly of
the same class as those who, forty-five years afterwards, were visited
and helped by his sons, John and Charles, and the other Oxford
Methodists. Notwithstanding the weightiness of his college work, and the
lightness of his college purse, he found time to visit the poor wretched
inmates of Oxford Gaol, and gladly relieved them as far as he was able.
Writing to his two sons, in 1730, when they had begun, of their own
accord, to visit the same prison house, he says:—“Go on, in God’s name,
in the path to which your Saviour has directed you, and that track
wherein your father has gone before you! For when I was an undergraduate
at Oxford I visited those in the castle there, and reflect on it with
great satisfaction to this day. Walk as prudently as you can, though not
fearfully, and my heart and prayers are with you.”[24]
-----
Footnote 24:
Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 7.
-----
When Samuel Wesley had spent about eighteen months at the university
King Charles II. died, and James II. succeeded him. A few months
afterwards, Oxford was honoured with a visit from this papistical
monarch, and an event happened which exercised an important influence on
Wesley’s subsequent career. One of the historians of Methodism has said,
it is a remarkable fact that, though Samuel Wesley had “the piety and
persecutions of his father and grandfather in his memory, and though the
condition and tendencies of the court were open to his inspection, he
was very much attached to the interests of King James.”
This statement rests entirely on the testimony of Dr A. Clarke, who
says, “His son John has been heard to state that at first his father was
very much attached to the interests of James.” It is deferentially
submitted whether this is strictly true. It is scarce likely that a
young man of intelligence, scholarship, and honour, like Samuel Wesley;
a young man whose father and grandfather had been ejected from their
churches, and hunted to their graves by the myrmidons of Stuart perfidy;
and a young man, whose entire life had been spent in the society and
schools of those who hated, and had just cause to hate, the Stuart
dynasty; we say it is scarce likely that such a young man would feel
either much attachment, or any attachment at all, to a despotic and
royal traitor like the one just mentioned. But, be that as it may, the
occurrence which happened at Oxford, and which is about to be related,
exercised an important influence on Samuel Wesley’s subsequent
behaviour.
Almost immediately after James’s accession, in 1685, he obtained the
appointment of one Massey, a Papist, as Dean of Christ Church, Oxford.
He likewise secured for Obadiah Walker, master of University College, a
concealed Papist, a licence for publishing popish books,—a licence of
which Walker had the courage to avail himself, for he immediately
established in his college both a printing press and a popish chapel.
All this naturally created great excitement. Soon after, in January
1687, the noble family of Petre (of whom Father Edward Petre was one)
claimed the right of nomination to seven fellowships in Exeter College,
in which Samuel Wesley was a student. It was acknowledged on the part of
the college that Sir William Petre, who had founded the fellowships, in
the reign of Elizabeth, and likewise his son, had both exercised the
power of nomination, though the latter, as they contended, had nominated
only by sufferance. The Bishop of Exeter, the visitor of the college,
had, in the reign of James I., pronounced an opinion against the
founder’s descendants, and a judgment had been obtained against them in
the Court of Common Pleas. Under the sanction of these authorities, the
college had, for seventy years, nominated to these fellowships without
disturbance from the family of Petre. Alibone, the popish lawyer,
contended that this long usage, which would otherwise have been
conclusive, deserved little consideration in a period of such iniquity
towards Catholics, who had been deterred from asserting their civil
rights. King James took up the matter, and demanded from the university
that they should acknowledge a right in Father Petre to name seven
fellows of Exeter College. This the university most firmly resisted, and
the question was referred to the Courts of Westminster. All this added
fuel to the fire already kindled.
But James’s illegal and arbitrary conduct proceeded still further. He
commanded the Fellows of Magdalen College to elect, as their Master, one
Antony Farmer, another concealed Papist. The Fellows petitioned his
Majesty, but finding him not to be moved, they exercised their own
undoubted right, and elected Dr Howe. A new mandate was issued to the
college to elect Parker, Bishop of Oxford. This man had been a zealous
Puritan preacher under the Commonwealth, a bigoted High Churchman at the
Restoration, and was now a papistical prelate, through his popish
servility to James II. He died a few months after, as destitute of
virtue as of judgment—a drunkard and a miser—unlamented and even
despised by all good men. The Fellows of Magdalen College refused to
accept of James’s nominee, and, with commendable spirit, stuck to the
Master of their own choosing. James was inexpressibly annoyed; and, in
the course of the summer of 1687, arrived at Oxford. The unmanageable
Fellows of Magdalen were summoned into the royal presence, and were chid
for their disobedience. Samuel Wesley was present, and was an intensely
interested spectator of the disreputable scene. “You have not dealt with
me like gentlemen!” cried the weakly, arrogant, and furious king; “you
have been unmannerly as well as undutiful. Is this your Church of
England loyalty? I could not have believed that so many clergymen of the
Church of England would have been concerned in such a business. Go
home!—get you gone! I am king! I will be obeyed! Go to your chapel this
instant, and admit the Bishop of Oxford. Let those who refuse look to
it; they shall feel the whole weight of my hand; they shall know what it
is to incur the displeasure of their sovereign!”
Here was a call for passive obedience from the very lips of the Lord’s
anointed, but still the Fellows were uncowed; and answering the royal
tyrant respectfully but firmly, they insisted on their right. They were
then privately warned that they would be proceeded against by _quo
warranto_, and inevitably lose everything. But still the gownsmen were
firm. The king was astonished and enraged, and issued a commission to
examine the state of the college, with full power to alter the statutes
and frame new ones. The chief of this Commission was Cartwright, Bishop
of Chester, who, like Parker, had been a Puritan in the days of
Cromwell, then a flaming Churchman under Charles, and was now a drunken
tool in the hands of James. The Commissioners arrived at Oxford on the
20th of October 1687; but Master Howe maintained his rights, and the
rights of the body which had elected him. On the second day, the
Commissioners deprived him of his Mastership, struck his name from the
books, and bound him in a penalty of £1000 to appear in the King’s
Bench. Parker was put into possession by force, and a majority of the
Fellows were at length prevailed upon to submit to royal dictation.
This ought to have satisfied the imperious monarch; but it was not
enough, and he now insisted that the Fellows should acknowledge their
disobedience and repentance in a written submission; but right nobly
they resisted this stretch of tyranny, withdrew their former submission,
and declared in writing that they could not acknowledge they had done
aught amiss. This led to further outrages; and, on the 16th of November,
judgment was pronounced against them in the shape of a general
deprivation and expulsion. But even this was not sufficient to appease
James’s vengeance; and hence, a month afterwards, another sentence was
issued, incapacitating all and every of the Fellows of Magdalen from
holding any benefice or preferment in the Church. James also declared
that he would look upon any favour shown to the Fellows as a combination
against himself. They were accordingly expelled; their places in the
university were filled by avowed Papists, or by very doubtful
Protestants; and they themselves were left to find employment and a
maintenance in the best way they could. James intended to hinder even
their friends offering them assistance; but, notwithstanding his
contemptible threats, considerable collections were made for them; and
his own daughter, the Princess of Orange, sent over £200 for their
relief; so that, in the end, though they obtained the honours of
martyrdom, they experienced little of its sufferings. Twelve months
after their expulsion their intolerant oppressor made a miserable flight
to France, and the Prince of Orange stepped into his place.[25]
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Footnote 25:
Knight’s _History of England_.
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It was in the midst of such disreputable proceedings that Samuel Wesley
finished his collegiate training, and left the excited seat of learning
where he had spent the last five years. As already stated, he was
present when James lectured the Fellows of Magdalen College in such
unkingly fashion; and Dr Clarke relates, on the authority of the Rev.
Thomas Stedman, that the spirit of young Wesley rose in rebellion
against this exhibition of royal arrogance, and that he afterwards
remarked: “When I heard him say to the Master and Fellows of Magdalen
College, lifting up his lean arm, ‘If you refuse to obey me, you shall
feel the weight of a king’s right hand,’ I saw he was a tyrant. And
though I was not inclined to take an active part against him, I was
resolved from that time to give him no kind of support.”
This may be true, and yet there is considerable difficulty in
reconciling it with another fact which must be mentioned.
It was during the summer of 1687 that King James played the tyrant in
Magdalen College, and it was on the 10th of June 1688 that the Prince of
Wales was born. The words of young Wesley, as cited by Dr Clarke, are
evidence that he had formed the purpose to take no part with those who
were intent upon the dethronement of James. He was a man far too loyal
to become a rebel; and yet it cannot be denied that he regarded the
interests of James with indifference. “I was resolved,” says he, “from
that time to give him no support.” While James was king he would obey
him; but while bowing to the royal will, he would do nothing to maintain
and to establish the royal cause. Such was Wesley’s position in the
summer of 1687—one of neutrality, or, at the most, of mere obedience.
But twelve months afterwards, at the birth of the Prince of Wales, a
change seems to have come over him. The nation took but little interest
in this event; in fact, it, was alleged that the birth of a royal prince
was a royal imposition; and though the court commanded London to make
bonfires, and to exhibit other signs of rejoicing, London was sullen,
and would provide no rejoicings, except for the seven bishops which were
then imprisoned in the Tower, but for whose rescue from the royal
tyranny of James the country was most earnestly hoping. Among other
means which were used to extort congratulations respecting the royal
birth, was a more than mere gentle hint to the University of Oxford that
it would be expected to furnish a volume of congratulatory poems, and
that even Magdalen College itself would join in this.[26] Strange to
say, the hint was adopted, and a book was written containing more than a
hundred poetic pieces professing joy at the birth of a Prince of Wales.
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Footnote 26:
_See_ Ellis’s _Correspondence_, vol. ii., p. 4.
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That volume is now before us. Its title-page bears the following
inscription:—“Strenæ Natalitiæ Academiæ Oxoniensis, in Clarissimum
Principem: Oxonii E Theatro Sheldoniano. An. Dom. 1668.” It consists of
86 folio pages, each of which is headed, “In Natalem Sereniss. Principis
Walliæ.” About ninety of the poems are in Latin, two are in Greek, four
in Arabic, one in Hebrew, and twelve in English. The celebrated Hebrew
professor, Dr Edward Pococke, wrote his in Arabic. Samuel Wesley and
eleven others wrote theirs in English. Most of the colleges, Magdalen
included, are represented. The writers belonging to Exeter College are,
Sir Henry Northcote, Bart., John Read, Henry Maundrell, and Samuel
Wesley. Wesley’s poem is the last but two in the book, and fills two
pages. The poem is too long for insertion here, but the reader will find
it complete, with the exception of about half a dozen small errors, in
Dr Clarke’s “Wesley Family.” Suffice it to say, that Wesley represents
Ariosto as bringing his lyre from heaven to join in the rejoicings.
Ariosto also draws “a vocal picture” of the royal group. The “dazzling
lustre” of all the graces shines around the eyes of the happy Queen;
“Great James’s” joy is “too bright to be expressed,” and therefore the
poet puts “a modest veil around his radiant head;” while the infant
prince has his mother’s eyes, through which, however, shines his
father’s soul. The child is “a child of miracles,” and a “son of
prayers;” he is to defend “his father’s mighty throne,” and to give
“Europe peace;” he is to have “valiant brothers,” who will “share in his
triumphs;” and when he visits Oxford, the “venerable men, who met Great
James his father, will also crowd around him.” As the result of his
reign, there will be no “cloudy foreheads,” and “no contracted
brows;”—in fact, a “new world” will “begin,” and a “golden age”
commence.
This is the substance of Samuel Wesley’s poem. The young prince is most
lavishly extolled; but the only praise bestowed on the father is that he
was “_great_,” and perhaps “brave” and loving. At first sight, the poem
seems to clash with the statement that Samuel Wesley had resolved,
twelve months before, to yield to James nothing more than mere
obedience; but, in reality, there is no such collision. Wesley had no
sympathy with James’s tyrannical proceedings; but, at the same time, he
could not deny, what most historians acknowledge, that James was a knave
rather than a fool. If James’s reign was still continued, he would take
no part against him; and if James was succeeded by his infant son, he
augurs and hopes that he will be able to give brightness to foreheads at
present “cloudy,” and to smooth the brows which are now contracted; in
short, that he will be able to defend the throne of his father, and to
give peace to Europe.
We have felt it necessary to go at greater length than we wished into
this part of Samuel Wesley’s history, because of the importance which
has been attached to it by a most able article on “The Ancestry of the
Wesleys,” in the _London Quarterly Review_ for April 1864. Our
conviction is, that Samuel Wesley was an intensely loyal man; and that,
notwithstanding all the outrageous tyranny of King James, he would never
have taken part against him; but when James ignominiously fled, and
William and Mary, by the voice of the nation, were proclaimed his
successors, Wesley felt that he owed to them the loyalty and obedience
that he had paid to James; and, to use his own words, as a proof of his
loyalty, he wrote, in answer to an out-of-door speech, the first defence
of the government that appeared after William and Mary’s accession; and
afterwards published many other pieces, both in prose and verse, having
the same end in view.[27]
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Footnote 27:
I have examined a large number of pamphlets published at this period,
hoping to find the “first defence” of Samuel Wesley. A list of some of
these will be found in Appendix B. I incline to think that Mr Wesley’s
is in that list, but I am not sure.—L. T.
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