[49] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. ii.,
p. 126.
[50] Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 387.
[51] _Methodist Magazine_, 1783, p. 273.
[52] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 321.
[53] Ibid. vol. xii., p. 331.
[54] Taylor’s “Redeeming Grace,” p. 49; and Wesley’s Works,
vol. iii., p. 350.
[55] Wesley’s Works, vol. iv., pp. 16, 173, 222.
[56] _Methodist Magazine_, 1784, p. 165.
[57] _Irish Evangelist_, May, 1862.
[58] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 362.
[59] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. ii., p. 117.
[60] Smith’s History of Methodism, vol. i., p. 380.
[61] _Methodist Magazine_, 1784, p. 112.
[62] Smith’s History of Methodism, vol. i., p. 387.
[63] Rule’s “Memoir of a Mission to Gibraltar,” p. 5.
[64] Wesley’s Works, vol. vii., p. 392.
[65] About the same time, Thomas Bell, at Charlestown,
wrote as follows: “Mr. Wesley says, the first message
of the preachers is to the lost sheep of England. And
are there none in America? They have strayed from
England into the wild woods here, and they are running
wild after this world. They are drinking their wine
in bowls, and are jumping and dancing, and serving
the devil, in the groves and under the green trees.
And are not these lost sheep? And will none of the
preachers come here? Where is Mr. Brownfield? Where
is John Pawson? Where is Nicholas Manners? Are they
living, and will they not come?”--(“The Centenary of
Methodism,” published by the Primitive Methodists in
Ireland, in 1839, p. 189.)
[66] _Methodist Magazine_, 1845, p. 578.
[67] Ibid. 1783, p. 276; and 1784, p. 163.
[68] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, May 26, 1769.
[69] _Methodist Magazine_, 1799, p. 253.
[70] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. ii.,
p. 99.
[71] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 383.
[72] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 384.
[73] _Methodist Magazine_, 1836, p. 52.
[74] Ibid. 1815, p. 46.
[75] “Methodism in Frome,” by Tuck, p. 42.
[76] Miss Perronet’s manuscript letters; and _Methodist
Magazine_, 1811, p. 234.
[77] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 42; and manuscript
letter.
[78] Sellon’s book was not published till 1770, and seems
to have been revised by Wesley, who also approved of
his dealing with Toplady in a separate pamphlet. Hence
the following, addressed to Sellon.
“LEWISHAM, _February 21, 1770_.
“MY DEAR BROTHER,--Do not make too much haste. Give
everything the last touch. It will be enough, if
the papers meet me at Manchester, before the end of
March. I believe it will be the best way to bestow
a distinct pamphlet on that exquisite coxcomb.
Surely wisdom will die with him! I believe we can
easily get his other tract, which it would be well
to sift to the very foundation, in order to stop
the mouth of that vain boaster. I am, etc., JOHN
WESLEY.”--(Manuscript letter.)
1770.
Age 67
Wesley began the year 1770 with a covenant service in London, at which
eighteen hundred Methodists were present,--a sight worth seeing.
In his leisure moments, he employed himself in reading; and, as
usual, makes racy remarks on men and books. Having finished Dr.
Burnet’s “Theory of the Earth,” he writes: “He is doubtless one of
the firstrate writers, both as to sense and style; his language is
remarkably clear, unaffected, nervous, and elegant; and none can deny,
that his theory is ingenious, and consistent with itself.” He read
Rousseau upon education, and says: “But how was I disappointed! Sure
a more consummate coxcomb never saw the sun! How amazingly full of
himself! Whatever he speaks, he pronounces as an oracle. But many of
his oracles are as palpably false as that ‘young children never love
old people.’ But I object to his temper more than to his judgment:
he is a mere misanthrope, a cynic all over. So indeed is his brother
infidel, Voltaire; and well-nigh as great a coxcomb. But he hides both
his doggedness and vanity a little better; whereas, here it stares us
in the face continually. As to his book, it is whimsical to the last
degree; grounded neither upon reason nor experience. The advices, which
are good, are trite and common, only disguised under new expressions;
and those which are new, which are really his own, are lighter than
vanity itself. Such discoveries I always expect from those who are too
wise to believe their Bibles.”
Baron Emanuel Swedenborg, after rendering great service to science, and
thereby winning the esteem of Charles XII., and receiving the honour of
being enrolled among the members of the academies of Upsal, Stockholm,
and Petersburgh, came to London in 1743, attended the Moravian chapel
in Fetter Lane, went mad,[79] and began to write and publish the
visionary books, containing the creed of the Swedenborgians. Wesley
writes: “I sat down to read and seriously consider some of the writings
of Baron Swedenborg. I began with huge prejudice in his favour, knowing
him to be a pious man, one of a strong understanding, of much learning,
and one who thoroughly believed himself. But I could not hold out long.
Any one of his visions puts his real character out of doubt. He is
one of the most ingenious, lively, entertaining madmen, that ever set
pen to paper. But his waking dreams are so wild, so far remote both
from Scripture and common sense, that one might as easily swallow the
stories of ‘Tom Thumb,’ or ‘Jack the Giant Killer.’” The baron died two
years after this, and was buried in the Swedish church in Wellclose
Square, London.
In the month of February, Wesley, for the last time, took part in a
religious service, and administered the sacrament, in the mansion
of the Countess of Huntingdon, in Portland Row. Thomas Maxfield was
present, and though a few years before he had been one of the strongest
sticklers in favour of the wild doctrines propounded by George Bell
and other sanctified ones in London, he now, in Wesley’s own presence,
spoke strongly against his doctrine of Christian perfection.[80] This
might be gratifying to her ladyship and her Calvinistic friends; but
it would have been in better taste for Maxfield, at least, to have
maintained, on such a subject, a respectful silence. No doubt, foolish
ideas had been circulated; but Wesley can hardly be held accountable
for these. His own doctrines on the subject were based upon Scripture,
and these he was ready to defend, and resolved to propagate. It is
true, that his anticipations respecting the great work, which was
professedly wrought in London and elsewhere, had not been realised.
Even Miss Bosanquet had lost the blessing of Christian perfection;[81]
and Wesley, in a letter dated March 15, 1770, confesses that, of those
who professed to obtain it, hardly one in thirty retained it. “Many
hundreds in London,” says he, “were made partakers of it, within
sixteen or eighteen months; but I doubt whether twenty of them are now
as holy and as happy as they were.”[82] This was a humiliating fact,
and gave to Wesley’s opponents a great advantage; but, in itself, it
was no disproof of Wesley’s doctrine; and can scarcely be considered a
satisfactory excuse for Thomas Maxfield, of all men living, attacking
his friend in the house of his Calvinistic foes.
Wesley’s friend Whitefield was in America, preaching with as much zest
as ever; and, just at this juncture, Wesley addressed what proved to
be his last letter to his old and always faithful coadjutor; but the
letter contains not a single syllable respecting the slight which had
been cast upon him by a man whom gratitude ought to have taught better
manners.
“LEWISHAM, _February 21, 1770_.
“MY DEAR BROTHER,--Mr. Keen informed me some time since of your
safe arrival in Carolina; of which, indeed, I could not doubt for
a moment, notwithstanding the idle report of your being cast away,
which was so current in London. I trust our Lord has more work for
you to do in Europe, as well as in America. And who knows but before
your return, to England, I may pay another visit to the new world? I
have been strongly solicited by several of our friends in New York
and Philadelphia. They urge many reasons, some of which appear to
be of considerable weight; and my age is no objection at all; for
I bless God my health is not barely as good, but abundantly better
in several respects, than when I was five-and-twenty. But there are
so many reasons on the other side, that, as yet, I can determine
nothing; so I must wait for further light. Here I am: let the Lord
do with me as seemeth Him good. For the present, I must beg of you
to supply my lack of service, by encouraging our preachers, as you
judge best (who are as yet comparatively young and inexperienced);
by giving them such advices as you think proper; and, above all, by
exhorting them, not only to love one another, but, if it be possible,
as much as lies in them, to live peaceably with all men.
“Some time ago, since you went hence, I heard a circumstance, which
gave me a good deal of concern; namely, that the college or academy
in Georgia had swallowed up the orphan house. Shall I give my
judgment without being asked? Methinks, friendship requires I should.
Are there not then two points which come in view? a point of mercy,
and a point of justice? With respect to the former, may it not be
inquired, Can anything on earth be a greater charity than to bring
up orphans? What is a college or an academy compared to this? unless
you could have such a college as perhaps is not upon earth. I know
the value of learning, and am more in danger of prizing it too much
than too little; but, still, I cannot place the giving it to five
hundred students on a level with saving the bodies, if not the souls
too, of five hundred orphans. But let us pass from the point of mercy
to that of justice. You had land given, and collected money, for an
orphan house. Are you at liberty to apply this to any other purpose?
at least, while there are any orphans in Georgia left? I just touch
upon this, though it is an important point, and leave it to your own
consideration, whether part of it, at least, might not properly be
applied to carry on the original design? In speaking thus freely, on
so tender a subject, I have given you a fresh proof of the sincerity
with which I am your ever affectionate friend and brother,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[83]
The college business above mentioned was simply this. Six years before,
Whitefield had informed the council of Georgia, that he had already
expended £12,000 upon his Orphan House; that he was now anxious to
attach to it a college, to which the respectable inhabitants of
Georgia, Virginia, and the West Indies might send their sons to be
educated; that, in order to accomplish his purpose, he was prepared
to lay out a considerable sum of money “_in purchasing a large number
of negroes_” for the cultivation of the lands, and for the “future
support of a president, professors, and tutors;” and that he now asked
the council to grant him, in trust, for the purposes aforesaid, two
thousand acres of land, on the north fork of Turtle River. The council
yielded his request at once, and with the greatest pleasure. Whitefield
then memorialised the king to grant a charter for the founding of the
college, stating that, if this were done, he was “ready to give up his
present trust, and make a free gift of all lands, negroes, goods, and
chattels, which he now possessed in Georgia, for the support of the
proposed institution, to be called by the name of Bethesda college,
in Georgia.” A long official correspondence followed. The government
were not unwilling to grant a charter, but they insisted that the
president of the college should be a minister of the Church of England,
and that there should be a daily use of the Church liturgy. These
were conditions which Whitefield respectfully declined; and hence the
charter asked for was refused. The result was, Whitefield added to
his Georgian orphan house a public academy, by the erection of two
additional wings, one hundred and fifty feet each in length; and, a
month before Wesley wrote his letter, opened the new building, by
preaching before his excellency the governor, and before the Georgian
council and assembly, from, “The hands of Zerubbabel have laid the
foundations of this house, His hands shall also finish it; and thou
shalt know that the Lord of hosts hath sent me unto you; for who hath
despised the day of small things?” Thus Whitefield left behind him, in
America, a complex orphanage and college, for the support of which he
had obtained grants of land to the extent of 3800 acres, and had bought
seventy-five male and female negroes for the purpose of cultivating his
extensive farm, and making it productive.[84]
We have already seen that Wesley was not only urged, but was more
than willing, to visit his newly instituted societies in America.
Pilmoor was working hard at New York, and Boardman at Philadelphia;
a number of negroes had been converted; the work was growing; and
the young evangelists--Boardman of seven, and Pilmoor of five years’
standing--wished for advice and help.[85] Wesley had nearly arrived at
the age of threescore years and ten; but, if his way had opened, he
would have bounded off across the Atlantic with as little anxiety as
he was accustomed to trot to the hospitable Perronet home at Shoreham.
The obstacles however were insurmountable. There was no one, during
his absence, to take his place as superintendent general of the
societies in England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland; and to this must
be added the strong objections of the people to let him go. “If I go
to America,” said he, “I must do a thing which I hate as bad as I hate
the devil.” “What is that?” asked his friend. “I must keep a _secret_,”
he answered; meaning, that he must conceal his purpose, otherwise his
societies would interfere, and effectually prevent his going.[86]
On the 5th of March, Wesley set out on his journey to the north, which
occupied the next five months. Coming to Newbury, he writes: “I had
been much importuned to preach here. But where? The Dissenters would
not permit me to preach in their meetinghouse. Some were then desirous
to hire the old playhouse; but the good mayor would not suffer it to be
so profaned! So I made use of a workshop,--a large, commodious place.
But it would, by no means, contain the congregation. All that could
hear behaved well.”
From Newbury, Wesley proceeded to Bristol, Gloucester, Birmingham, and
Wednesbury. He then made his way, through Staffordshire and Cheshire,
to Manchester, where he arrived at the end of March, and made the
following characteristic entry in his journal: “In this journey, as
well as in many others, I observed a mistake that almost universally
prevails. Near thirty years ago, I was thinking, ‘How is it that
no horse ever stumbles while I am reading?’ (History, poetry, and
philosophy, I commonly read on horseback, having other employment at
other times.) No account can possibly be given but this: because, then
I throw the reins on his neck. I then set myself to observe; and I
aver, that, in riding above a hundred thousand miles, I scarce ever
remember any horse (except two that would fall head over heels any
way), to fall, or make a considerable stumble, while I rode with a
slack rein. To fancy, therefore, that a tight rein prevents stumbling
is a capital blunder. I have repeated the trial more frequently than
most men in the kingdom can do. A slack rein will prevent stumbling if
anything will. But in some horses nothing can.”
From Manchester, Wesley proceeded to Liverpool, Whitehaven, and
Carlisle, preaching there, and at intermediate places. He writes: “At
Carlisle, it was the day of small things; the society consisting but
of fifteen members.” Methodism had been founded in this border city
by Robert Bell, an exciseman; and its place of worship was a shed for
sheltering carts. At almost every meeting the mob attended; stones and
brickbats were often thrown, and the Methodists hissed at and otherwise
abused.[87]
Leaving Carlisle, Wesley made his way to Edinburgh, which he reached
on April 20, and says: “I endeavoured to confirm those whom many had
strove to turn out of the way. What pity is it, that the children of
God should so zealously do the devil’s work! How is it, that they
are still ignorant of Satan’s devices? Lord, what is man?” “The
congregations were nearly as usual; but the society which, when I was
here before, consisted of above one hundred and sixty members, was
now shrunk to about fifty. Such is the fruit of a single preacher’s
staying a whole year in one place, together with the labours of good
Mr. Townshend!”
It was at this time that Wesley had his first interview with Lady
Glenorchy.[88] She writes: “The Rev. Dr. Webster[89] and Mr. Wesley met
at my house, and agreed on all doctrines on which they spoke, except
those of God’s decrees, predestination, and the saints’ perseverance.
I must, according to the light I now have, agree with Dr. Webster.
Nevertheless, I hope Mr. Wesley is a child of God. He has been an
instrument of saving souls; as such, I honour him, and will countenance
his preachers. I have heard him preach thrice; and should have been
better pleased had he preached more of Christ, and less of himself.”[90]
Lady Glenorchy had recently opened St. Mary’s chapel, in which service
was performed by presbyterians, episcopalians, and Methodists; but her
ladyship now wished to have a schoolmaster and a minister of her own;
and, notwithstanding her disparaging remarks on Wesley, she employed
him to obtain them for her. A few weeks later she wrote to him as
follows.
“EDINBURGH, _May 29, 1770_.
“REVEREND SIR,--When I consider how much you have to do, and how
very precious your time is, I feel unwilling to give you the trouble
of reading a letter from me; yet I know not how to delay returning
you my best thanks for the pains you have taken to procure me a
Christian innkeeper and schoolmaster. And, though you have not as
yet been successful, I hope you may find some before you reach
London, who are willing to leave their native country and friends
for the sake of promoting the interest of Christ’s kingdom. If Mr.
Eggleston’s objections relate only to temporal things, perhaps it
may be in my power to remove them. I am exceedingly obliged to you,
dear and honoured sir, for your good advice; it is agreeable to that
small glimmering of light the Lord has been pleased to give me for
five years past. Let me entreat you to remember me at the throne
of grace. I am, reverend sir, with esteem and respect, your obliged
servant,
“WILLIELMA GLENORCHY.”[91]
Within a week after this, Wesley obtained her ladyship a schoolmaster;
and, at the beginning of the year following, sent her a minister, the
Rev. Richard De Courcy, who had been a Methodist in Ireland,[92] had
been educated at Trinity college, Dublin, had obtained deacon’s orders,
and had officiated as curate to Walter Shirley.[93] Lady Glenorchy
writes: “Mr. De Courcy is quite the person Mr. Wesley represented
him,--of a sweet disposition, and wishes only to preach Christ to poor
sinners wherever he finds an open door.”[94] This was in February,
1771, and yet, within six months afterwards, on June 28, her ladyship
writes again: “Before I left Edinburgh, I dismissed Mr. Wesley’s
preachers from my chapel; first, because they deny the doctrines
of imputed righteousness, election, and the saints’ perseverance;
secondly, because I found none of our gospel ministers would preach in
the chapel, if they continued to have the use of the pulpit; thirdly,
because I found my own soul had been hurt by hearing them, and I judged
that others might be hurt by them also.”[95]
Thus, after Wesley had served her ladyship to the utmost of his power,
he and his preachers were ignominiously expelled from the sacred
precincts of St. Mary’s, and her chapel was left in the sole possession
of Mr. De Courcy and his Calvinistic friends. It is right to add that,
notwithstanding her Calvinism, Lady Glenorchy maintained, to the end
of life, a warm friendship with her Methodist friend, Lady Maxwell,
whom, at her death, she appointed her sole executrix, and the principal
manager of her chapels, both in England and across the border.[96]
To return to Wesley. From Edinburgh, he went to Perth, Dunkeld, and
Inverness, at which last mentioned place Benjamin and William Chappel
had been three months waiting for a vessel to return to London, and
had employed the time in meeting the people every night to sing and
pray together. Benjamin Chappel, who thus begun Methodism in Inverness,
was a wheelwright, and, in after years, had the honour of being the
first Methodist in Prince Edward’s Island.[97]
At Aberdeen, as at Inverness and Nairn, Wesley preached in the kirk.
At Arbroath, the society, though of but nine months’ standing, was the
largest in Scotland, with the exception of that at Aberdeen. At Dunbar
he preached in the new chapel, “the cheerfulest in the kingdom”; and,
on May 21, reached Newcastle on Tyne; but here we pause to insert a
letter of considerable interest.
Within the last two years, Wesley had met at Bristol with a clergyman,
who was one of the king of Sweden’s chaplains, but who had recently
spent several years in Pennsylvania. This gentleman, Dr. Wrangel, had
strongly requested that Wesley would send preachers to America, nearly
twelve months before Boardman and Pilmoor were appointed; and, further,
to show his friendly feeling towards Methodism he had preached in the
Bristol chapel to a crowd of Methodists, and “gave,” says Wesley,
“general satisfaction by the simplicity and life which accompanied his
sound doctrine.” Dr. Wrangel had now returned to Sweden, and wrote the
following to Wesley.
“STOCKHOLM, _May 5, 1770_.
“DEAR AND MUCH BELOVED BROTHER IN CHRIST JESUS,--I hope my heart
will ever be impressed with the warmest gratitude for the comfort I
enjoyed in your society. Though absent in body, I have often been
amongst you. When I left England, I arrived first at Gothenburg, and
lodged at the right reverend bishop, Dr. Lamberg’s, who was fellow
chaplain with me at court. I found him to be a great friend of yours.
He had heard you preach while on his travels in England. I sent him
your books, and he was well pleased with what he read, and desired me
to remember him to you.
“I have now been upwards of a year in Stockholm, and have officiated
as chaplain to the king, and at the same time preached in most of
the churches here, and I must say, with uncommon success. Whenever
I have preached the churches have been crowded. The king, on his
deathbed, made me a privy councillor. When I spoke to him of the way
of salvation, he received the word with gladness, and departed in
the Lord, to the great edification and comfort of the whole family.
His queen also, who is of English descent, is eminent in piety. This,
I hope, will be attended with good consequences in favour of religion.
“Last parliament session several clergymen, and amongst them four
bishops, agreed to my proposals concerning a society for propagating
practical religion. We intend, as soon as the plan is rightly fixed,
to enter into correspondence with several parts of the world; and we
expect the honour of your correspondence also.
“Providence is about to settle me in a station of great importance.
I am about to be named the almoner of his majesty. This office is of
importance to religion in general. Finally, my dear brother, let me
be included in all your prayers, and let me hear from you. I am, with
the greatest sincerity of affection, dear and reverend brother, your
most humble and affectionate brother and servant,
“C. M. WRANGEL.”[98]
Further correspondence followed, from which we learn that Dr. Wrangel
himself, like Wesley, had been an open air preacher; but was now, not
only the king of Sweden’s almoner, but “president of the consistory at
court, and chaplain to all the royal orders.” He writes to Wesley in
1771: “Pray, dear sir, desire your society to intercede for me. I send
you enclosed the letter of admission to our society. The rules, not yet
being printed in English, we send in German. I sincerely thank you for
the kind present of your sermons and books. I presented a copy of your
sermon to the society, which was very acceptable. The society will have
the life of Mr. Whitefield inserted in their Pastoral Collections, or
account of the work of God abroad. I beg of you, sir, to remember me
kindly to all your friends, not forgetting dear Kingswood. I have been
greatly blessed in my labour amongst the great, and shall soon give a
particular account of it.”[99]
Thus, as England had its Wesleys, America its Whitefield, and Wales its
Howel Harris, Sweden also had its great reformer,--Dr. Wrangel, once a
field preacher, but now a founder of a _quasi_ missionary society, and,
as a faithful minister of Christ, bearing his testimony before kings
and princes. Through Dr. Wrangel’s friendship with Wesley, Methodism
had already, fifty-six years before its appointment of the Rev. Joseph
Rayner Stephens to Stockholm, indirectly extended its influences to the
Swedish capital, and had begun that wondrous work, which, fostered by
the Rev. Dr. Scott, has issued in some of the most remarkable results
recorded in mission history.
Wesley left Newcastle for London on the 11th of June, and, on his
journey, preached for the most part thrice a day. At Whitby, one of
his itinerants, of six years’ standing, “had set up for himself;
his reasons for leaving the Methodists being--(1) that they went to
church; (2) that they held perfection.” It is a remarkable fact,
that sixty-five of the Whitby Methodists professed to be entirely
sanctified. From Whitby, Wesley proceeded along the east coast to
Robinhood’s Bay, Scarborough, Bridlington, and Hull.
From Hull, he made his way to Beverley, York, Tadcaster, Pateley,
Otley, Yeadon, Heptonstall, Colne, Haworth, and Keighley. The Keighley,
or Haworth, circuit, at this period, extended from Otley to Whitehaven,
a distance of one hundred and twenty miles.[100] Yeadon has just been
mentioned. Here James Rhodes began to hold Methodist prayer-meetings as
early as 1747; and here his brother Joseph preached the first Methodist
sermon in Yeadon, in the house of Judith Jackson. Here Thomas Mitchell,
one of Wesley’s bravest itinerants, was trained; and here William
Darney, while preaching, was attacked by a mob, led on by Reynolds,
curate of Guiseley, had eggs thrown at his face, was dragged out of
doors, and then stamped upon. Here Jonathan Maskew, by the same godless
gang, had his clothes torn off his back, and, in a state of nakedness,
was trailed over the rough stone pavement, till he was a mass of
bruises. The bush burned, but it was not consumed. In 1766, the first
chapel was erected; and now, in 1770, it had to be enlarged.
At the beginning of July, Wesley spent about a week at Leeds, and in
the surrounding towns and villages. He visited the orphanage of Miss
Bosanquet, who had removed to Cross Hall, Morley. Her friend Sarah
Crosby, in a letter dated July 13, 1770, remarks: “Mr. Wesley left
Leeds yesterday. I never heard him preach better, if so well. In every
sermon he set forth ‘Christian perfection’ in the most beautiful
light. Mr. Rankin, who travels with him, is a blessed man, and seems to
fear no one’s face. I believe there has not been such a time at Leeds
for many years.”[101]
From Leeds, Wesley proceeded to Doncaster, Epworth, Horncastle, Louth,
and other places; and then, turning round, came back to Doncaster,
and, from there, went to Rotherham, Sheffield, Derby, and Nottingham,
preaching, not only there, but in many of the intervening villages
and towns. He writes: “I preached at Bingham, and really admired the
exquisite stupidity of the people. They gaped and stared, while I was
speaking of death and judgment, as if they had never heard of such
things before. And they were not helped by two surly, ill mannered
clergymen, who seemed to be just as wise as themselves.”
In Loughborough market place, he preached to a congregation of some
thousands, all of them still as night. This was his first sermon
here; but, four years previous to this, some of his preachers had
visited the town, and, among others, converted by their ministry, was
Thomas Cook, who in humility, penitence, and self denial, was, even
among the first Methodists, almost without an equal. For three months
together, he would live on barley bread and water, often fasting,
from even nourishment like that, for whole days together, and praying
the whole night through. He invariably wore clothing of the coarsest
material, and when urged to use an overcoat answered: “When you can
assure me, that there is not a poor man destitute of _one_ coat, I may
then perhaps wear _two_.” For ten years, he prayed for all with whom
he happened to converse; and as he lived, so he died,--humble, holy,
loving, and devout,--saying in answer to a question, and with his
characteristic self abasement, “Oh no! no funeral sermon for _me_!”[102]
On Thursday, August 2, after a five months’ absence, Wesley got back to
London; and, on August 7, met his conference; in reference to which,
the following unpublished letter, addressed to Mr. Merryweather, at
Yarm, is not without interest.
“MY DEAR BROTHER,--I have the credit of stationing the preachers;
but many of them go where they _will_ go, for all me. For instance,
I have marked down James Oddie and John Nelson for Yarm circuit the
ensuing year; yet, I am not certain that either of them will come.
They can give twenty reasons for going elsewhere. Mr. Murlin says, he
must be in London. ’Tis certain he has a mind to be there; therefore,
so it must be; for you know a man of fortune is master of his own
motions.
“I am your affectionate brother,
“JOHN WESLEY.”
The difficulties of conference, in stationing preachers, are not novel.
There were now fifty Methodist circuits, one of which was America!
There were a hundred and twenty itinerant preachers, and 29,406 members
of society. Nearly £2,000 had been subscribed, during the year, towards
defraying the chapel debts; and yet, in consequence of new erections,
the aggregate debt was about the same. His chapels were becoming
Wesley’s greatest burdens.[103] It was resolved, that, during the
coming year, no new chapel should be built, nor any old one altered,
unless the entire expenditure were raised; and a proposal was made to
vest all the chapels in a general trust, consisting of persons chosen
from among the Methodists throughout the kingdom. This would have been
a disastrous mistake. Fortunately it was not adopted.
Kingswood school, as usual, was a trouble. It had been opened
two-and-twenty years, and had had, during that period, eight classical
masters, five of whom had obtained episcopal ordination, and now a
sixth, Joseph Benson, had not only entered himself a graduate at
Oxford, but had exchanged Kingswood for Trevecca. No wonder that
Wesley, at the conference of 1770, asked, “How can we secure our
masters?” The answer was, “Ask each, before he is received, Do you
design to stay here? have you any thoughts of being ordained? have
you any design to preach?” It is a fact worth noting, that, during
the remainder of Wesley’s lifetime, there was only one more classical
master who became an ordained clergyman, and that was Mr. Benson’s
immediate successor, Isaac Twicross.[104]
Wesley found, that some of his preachers were still engaged in trade;
and, hence, it was now agreed, that those who would not relinquish
trading in cloth, hardware, pills, drops, and balsams, should be
excluded from the brotherhood; but that, if any of them, like Thomas
Hanby, John Oliver, and James Oddie, had a share in ships, there would
be no objection to that.[105]
The conference of 1770, however, will always be memorable chiefly, if
not entirely, for its doctrinal minutes. From the first, Whitefield,
Howel Harris, and their friends, had been Calvinists; and so were many
of the evangelical clergy, patronised by the Countess of Huntingdon,
as Romaine, Newton, Venn, Berridge, Shirley, and others. At an early
period of their history, the two Wesleys agreed, with the Methodist
Calvinistic leaders, to avoid preaching on Calvinistic topics to the
utmost extent possible. Charles Wesley afterwards endorsed the document
with the words “Vain Agreement.” So indeed it was: in fact it could
hardly be otherwise. Wesley, more than once, tried to meet his friends
at a sort of halfway house; but the attempt was dangerous, it exposed
Wesley to suspicion, and it issued in a failure. We have already seen
that, in 1743, Wesley, for the purpose of terminating their disputes,
made concessions to Whitefield, respecting unconditional election,
irresistible grace, and final perseverance, which it was impossible to
defend. Accordingly, at the conference held a few months afterwards,
he honestly confessed, that he had “unawares leaned too much towards
Calvinism;”[106] and proceeded to propound doctrines, which, in
substance, were the same as those he now embodied in the theses of
1770. Twenty-six years had elapsed since then; but there was a striking
resemblance between the two periods; and, substantially, the same
cause for outspokenness. To say nothing more concerning Whitefield’s
doctrines, it is important to bear in mind, that, in 1744, Moravianism,
or rather Zinzendorfism, had turned the doctrine of justification by
faith only into an antinomian channel; and now, in 1770, the same
thing was practically being done by not a few who, at all events, were
_called_ Methodists. Mr. Fletcher’s description of the antinomianism
of the period is a frightful picture; and though not so applicable to
the followers of Wesley as to those of the Countess of Huntingdon’s
connexion, yet the former were not so free from the antinomian poison
as they should have been. Hence the publication of Wesley’s theological
theses; substantially the same as he had enunciated in 1744; but not
so guardedly expressed. As they led to the longest and bitterest
controversy in Wesley’s history, we subjoin them in their entirety.
“We said, in 1744, ‘We have leaned too much toward Calvinism.’
Wherein?
“1. With regard to _man’s faithfulness_. Our Lord himself taught us
to use the expression; and we ought never to be ashamed of it. We
ought steadily to assert, on His authority, that, if a man is not
‘faithful in the unrighteous mammon,’ God will not give _him the true
riches_.
“2. With regard to _working for life_. This also our Lord has
expressly commanded us: ‘Labour,’ εργαζεσθε, literally ‘Work’ ‘for
the meat that endureth to everlasting life.’ And, in fact, every
believer, till he comes to glory, works for as well as _from_ life.
“3. We have received it as a maxim, that ‘a man is to do nothing in
order to justification,’ Nothing can be more false. Whoever desires
to find favour with God should ‘cease from evil, and learn to do
well,’ Whoever repents should do ‘works meet for repentance,’ And if
this is not _in order_ to find favour, what does he do them for?
“Review the whole affair: 1. Who of us is _now_ accepted of God? He
that now believes in Christ with a loving and obedient heart.
“2. But who among those that never heard of Christ? He that feareth
God and worketh righteousness, according to the light he has.
“3. Is this the same with ‘he that is sincere’? Nearly, if not quite.
“4. Is not this ‘salvation by works’? Not by the _merit_ of works,
but by works as a _condition_.
“5. What have we been disputing about for these thirty years? I am
afraid, _about words_.
“6. As to _merit_ itself, of which we have been so dreadfully
afraid; we are rewarded ‘according to our works,’ yea, ‘because of
our works.’ How does this differ from, _for the sake of our works_?
And how differs this from _secundum merita operum_? as our works
_deserve_? Can you split this hair? I doubt I cannot.
“7. The grand objection to one of the preceding propositions is drawn
from matter of fact. God does in fact justify those, who, by their
own confession, neither feared God nor wrought righteousness. Is
this an exception to the general rule? It is a doubt, God makes any
exception at all. But how are we sure, that the person in question
never did fear God and work righteousness? His own saying so is not
proof; for we know, how all that are convinced of sin undervalue
themselves in every respect.
“8. Does not talking of a justified or a sanctified _state_ tend to
mislead men? almost naturally leading them to trust in what was done
in one moment? Whereas we are every hour and every moment pleasing or
displeasing to God, ‘according to our works’;--according to the whole
of our inward tempers, and our outward behaviour.”
What was the result of these loosely worded propositions? The answer to
this will extend over several years; but suffice it to say at present
that the publication gave huge offence to the whole host of Calvinistic
Methodists; and Lady Huntingdon declared, that whoever did not wholly
disavow the theses should quit her college. Mr. Benson, her classical
master, so far from disavowing, defended them, and hence sprung up a
correspondence between Wesley and himself, from which the following are
extracts.
“BRISTOL, _October 5, 1770_.
“DEAR JOSEPH,--I am glad you had the courage to speak your mind on
so critical an occasion. At all hazards, do so still; only with all
possible tenderness and respect. She is much devoted to God, and has
a thousand valuable and amiable qualities. There is no great fear
that I should be prejudiced against one whom I have intimately known
for these thirty years. And I know what is in man; therefore, I make
large allowance for human weaknesses. But what you say is exactly
the state of the case. They are ‘jealous of their authority.’ Truly,
there is no cause: _Longe mea discrepat illi et vox et ratio_. I
fear and shun, not desire, authority of any kind. Only when God
lays that burden upon me, I bear it, for His and the people’s sake.
‘Child,’ said my father to me when I was young, ‘you think to carry
everything by dint of argument; but you will find, by-and-by, how
very little is ever done in the world by clear reason.’ Very little
indeed! Passion and prejudice govern the world; only under the name
of reason. It is our part, by religion and reason, to counteract them
all we can. It is yours, in particular, to do all that in you lies to
soften the prejudices of those that are round about you, and to calm
the passions from which they spring. Blessed are the peacemakers!
Whatever I say, it will be all one. They will find fault, because
I say it. There is implicit envy at my power (so called), and a
jealousy rising therefrom. Hence prejudice in a thousand forms;
hence objections springing up like mushrooms. And while these causes
remain, they will spring up, whatever I can do or say. However, keep
thyself pure; and then there need be no strangeness between you and,
dear Joseph, your affectionate brother,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[107]
“LONDON, _November 30, 1770_.
“DEAR JOSEPH,--For several years, I have been convinced that I had
not done my duty with regard to that valuable woman; that I had not
told her what, I was thoroughly assured, no one else would dare to
do, and what I knew she would bear from no other person, but possibly
might bear from me. But, being unwilling to give her pain, I put it
off from time to time. At length, I did not dare to delay any longer,
lest death should call one of us hence. So I, at once, delivered
my own soul, by telling her all that was in my heart. It was my
business, my proper business, so to do; as none else either could or
would do it. Neither did I at all take too much upon me: I know the
office of a Christian minister. If she is not profited, it is her
own fault, not mine: I have done my duty, and I do not know there is
one charge in that letter which was either unjust, unimportant, or
aggravated; any more than that against the doggerel hymns, which are
equally an insult upon poetry and common sense.
“I am, dear Joseph, your affectionate brother,