In Bull-street. A large convenient place, and notwithstanding the
plainness of the profession rather elegant. The congregation is very
flourishing, rich, and peaceable. Chandler tells us, to the everlasting
honour of the Quakers, that they are the only christian sect who have
never exercised the cruel weapon of persecution.
METHODIST's MEETING.
We learn from ecclesiastical history, that the people in high life are
always _followers_ in religion. Though they are the best leaders in
political and social concerns, yet all religions seem to originate from
the lowest class. Every religion is first obstructed by violence, passes
through the insults of an age, then rests in peace, and often takes up
the rod against another.
The first preachers of the christian faith, the short-sighted apostles,
were men of the meanest occupations, and their church, a wretched room
in a miserable tenement. The superb buildings of St. Peter's in Rome,
and St. Paul's in London, used by their followers, were not within the
reach of their penetration. They were also totally ignorant of tripple
crowns, red hats, mitres, crosiers, robes, and rochets, well known to
their successors.
The religion of a private room, soon became the religion of a country:
the church acquired affluence, for all churches hate poverty; and this
humble church, disturbed for ages, became the church of Rome, the
disturber of Europe.
John Wickliff, in 1377, began to renew her disturbance: this able
theologist planted our present national church, which underwent severe
persecutions, from its mother church at Rome; but, rising superior to
the rod, and advancing to maturity, she became the mother of a numerous
offspring, which she afterwards persecuted herself; and this offspring,
like _their_ mother, were much inclined to persecution.
Puritanism, her first born, groaned under the pressure of her hand. The
Baptists, founded by a taylor, followed, and were buffeted by
both.--Independency appeared, ponderous as an elephant, and trampled
upon all three.
John Fox, a composition of the oddest matter, and of the meanest
original, formed a numerous band of disciples, who suffered the insults
of an age, but have carried the arts of prudence to the highest pitch.
The Muglitonians, the Prophets, the Superlapsarians, &c. like untimely
births, just saw the light and disappeared.
The Moravians, under the influence of Zinzendorf, rose about 1740, but
are not in a flourishing state; their circumscribed rules, like those
of the cloister, being too much shackled to thrive in a land of freedom.
James Sandiman introduced a religion, about 1750, but, though eclipsed
himself by poverty, he taught his preachers to shine; for he allowed
them to grace the pulpit with ruffles, lace, and a cueque. Birmingham
cannot produce one professor of the two last churches.
The christian religion has branched into more sectaries in the last two
hundred years, than in the fifteen hundred before--the reason is
obvious. During the tedious reign of the Romish priest, before the
introduction of letters, knowledge was small, and he wished to confine
that knowledge to himself: he substituted mystery for science, and led
the people blindfold. But the printing-press, though dark in itself, and
surrounded with yet _darker_ materials, diffused a ray of light through
the world, which enabled every man to read, think, and judge for
himself; hence diversity of opinion, and the absurdity of reducing a
nation to one faith, vainly attempted by Henry VIII.
In those distant ages, the priest had great influence, with little
knowledge; but in these, great knowledge, with little influence. He was
then revered according to his authority; but now, according to his
merit: he shone in a borrowed, but now in a real lustre: then he was
less deserving; but now less esteemed. The humble christian, in the
strictest sense, worked out his salvation with fear and trembling, and
with tools furnished by the priest: he built upon his opinions, but now
he lays a foundation for his own.
Though we acknowledge the scriptures our guide, we take the liberty to
guide them; we torture them to our own sentiments. Though we allow their
_equal_ weight, we suffer one portion to weigh down another. If we
attend to twenty disputants, not one of them will quote a text which
militates against his sentiments.
The artillery of vengeance was pointed at Methodism for thirty years;
but, fixed as a rock, it could never be beaten down, and its professors
now enjoy their sentiments in quiet.
After the institution of this sect by George Whitfield, in 1738, they
were first covered by the heavens, equally exposed to the rain and the
rabble, and afterwards they occupied, for many years, a place in
Steelhouse-lane, where the wags of the age observed, "they were eat out
by the bugs."--They therefore procured a cast off theatre in
Moor-street, where they continued to exhibit till 1782; when, quitting
the stage, they erected a superb meeting-house, in Cherry-street, at the
expence of 1200_l_. This was opened, July 7, by John Wesley, the chief
priest, whose extensive knowledge, and unblemished manners, give us a
tolerable picture of apostolic purity; who _believes_, as if he were to
be saved by faith; and who _labours_, as if he were to be saved
by works.
Thus our composite order of religion, an assemblage of the Episcopalian,
the Presbyterian, the Independent, and the Baptist; fled from the
buffetings of the vulgar, and now take peaceable shelter from the dews
of heaven.