“MY LORD,--I am a dying man, having already one foot in the
grave. Humanly speaking, I cannot long creep upon the earth,
being now nearer ninety than eighty years of age. But I cannot
die in peace, before I have discharged this office of Christian
love to your lordship. I write without ceremony, as neither
hoping nor fearing anything from your lordship, or any man
living. And I ask, in the name and presence of Him, to whom
both you and I are shortly to give an account, why do you
trouble those that are quiet in the land; those that fear God
and work righteousness? Does your lordship know what the
Methodists are? That many thousands of them are zealous members
of the Church of England; and strongly attached, not only to
his majesty, but to his present ministry? Why should your
lordship, setting religion out of the question, throw away such
a body of respectable friends? Is it for their religious
sentiments? Alas, my lord, is this a time to persecute any man
for conscience sake? I beseech you, my lord, do as you would be
done to. You are a man of sense; you are a man of learning;
nay, I verily believe, (what is of infinitely more value,) you
are a man of piety. Then think, and let think. I pray God to
bless you with the choicest of His blessings.
“I am, my lord, etc.,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[603]
Is it surprising, that the Methodists wished to separate from the
Church of England, and that Wesley was led, in fact driven, to take
the dissenting steps he did? And yet, to the very last, we find him
still adhering to the church of his early choice. Already the
Methodists had begun to have service in church hours; but this was far
from having his warm approval. Only two days after his consultation
with Mr. Clulow, he went to Dorking, where he wrote:
“The congregation was, as usual, large and serious. But there
is no increase in the society. So that we have profited nothing
by having our service in the church hours, which some imagined
would have done wonders. I do not know that it has done more
good anywhere in England; in Scotland I believe it has.”
If possible, Wesley was more popular than ever. He writes:
“November 4--The congregation at the new chapel” [City Road]
“was far larger than usual; and the number of communicants was
so great, that I was obliged _to consecrate thrice_.” “November
9--A friend offering to bear my expenses, I set out to
Nottingham, where I preached a charity sermon for the
infirmary, which was the design of my coming. This is not a
county infirmary, but is open to all England; yea, to all the
world; and everything about it is so neat, so convenient, and
so well ordered, that I have seen none like it in the three
kingdoms.”[604] “November 25--I preached two charity sermons at
West Street, in behalf of our poor children.” “December
16--After preaching at Spitalfields, I hastened to St. John’s,
Clerkenwell, and preached a charity sermon for the Finsbury
dispensary; as I would gladly countenance every institution of
the kind.”
All this was extra work; for Wesley’s chief employment, at the end of
every year, was preaching to the London Methodists, and meeting the
London classes. Strange to say, the latter was to Wesley an irksome
task. Hence he writes:
“1787, November 19--I began the _unpleasing work_ of visiting
the classes. I still continue to do this in London and Bristol,
as well as in Cork and Dublin. With the other societies, their
respective assistants supply my lack of service.”
There were also other things, far from pleasant, requiring his
attention. A Laodicean spirit had crept in among the London
Methodists, and, in strong terms, he had to warn them of their sin and
danger. They were also £300 in debt, and he found it necessary to
devise means to make the income equal to the expenditure. His
preachers also, and his household, vexed him. He writes:
“1787. Sunday, December 9--I went down at half-hour past five,
but found no preacher in the chapel, though we had three or
four in the house; so I preached myself. Afterwards, inquiring
why none of my family attended the morning preaching, they said
it was because they sat up too late. I resolved to put a stop
to this; and, therefore, ordered, that (1) every one under my
roof should go to bed at nine; that (2) every one might attend
the morning preaching; and so they have done ever since.”
Amid all this labour and annoyance, it is amusing to find this
venerable man, in the eighty-fifth year of his age, visiting what then
answered to the Madame Tussaud’s exhibition of 1871, and evincing a
curiosity and a keenness of observation not often equalled by the
visitors of the present time. Hence the following.
“December 10--I was desired to see the celebrated waxwork at
the museum in Spring Gardens. It exhibits most of the crowned
heads in Europe, and shows their characters in their
countenance. Sense and majesty appear in the king of Spain;
dulness and sottishness in the king of France; infernal
subtlety in the late king of Prussia; (as well as in the
skeleton Voltaire;) calmness and humanity in the emperor, and
king of Portugal; exquisite stupidity in the prince of Orange;
and amazing coarseness, with everything that is unamiable, in
czarina.
With the exception of contributing to the _Arminian Magazine_,
Wesley’s literary life was ended. He revised former publications, as,
for instance, his Notes on the New Testament; and he occasionally
published an extract from some other author; but all the _original_
productions of his mind and pen were now published in the magazine.
During this present year, he committed to the press a new pocket
hymn-book, 24mo, 240 pages; but the work was _compiled_, not
_written_, and was intended as a substitute for the volume issued in
1785. He also published “Conjectures concerning the Nature of Future
Happiness. Translated from the French of Monsieur Bonnet, of Geneva:”
12mo, 12 pages,--a remarkable tract, little known, but full of
thought.[605] The following is Wesley’s address “To the Reader.”
“Dublin, April 7, 1787. I am happy in communicating to men of sense in
this kingdom, and at a very low price, one of the most sensible tracts
I ever read.--JOHN WESLEY.”
The magazine, as usual, contains six original sermons by Wesley,
several of them among the most able and interesting that he ever
wrote. That on Temptation is marked by great discrimination and
beauty. The one on Dress fearlessly denounces what was then, and still
is, a fearfully prevailing evil. Having laid down the principles, that
“slovenliness is no part of religion”; and that “there may undoubtedly
be a moderate difference of apparel, between persons of different
stations”; he proceeds to show, that the natural effects of “adorning
ourselves with gold, or pearls, or costly array,” are pride, vanity,
anger, and lust; and concludes with one of his most withering
addresses to the Methodists then living, and which the Methodists of
the present day would do well to ponder.
“Have not many of you grown finer as fast as you have grown
richer? As you increased in substance, have you not increased
in dress? Witness the profusion of ribbons, gauze, or linen
about your heads! What have you profited then by bearing the
reproach of Christ? by being called Methodists? Are you not as
fashionably dressed as others of your rank that are no
Methodists? Do you ask, ‘But may we not as well buy fashionable
things as unfashionable?’ I answer, Not if they give you a
bold, immodest look, as those huge hats, bonnets, headdresses
do. And not, if they cost more. ‘But I can _afford_ it.’ Oh,
lay aside for ever that idle nonsensical word! No Christian can
_afford_ to waste any part of the substance which God has
entrusted him with. How can it be, that, after so many
warnings, you persist in the same folly? Is it not hence? There
are among you some that neither profit themselves by all they
hear, nor are willing that others should; and these, if any of
you are almost persuaded to dress as Christians, reason, and
rally, and laugh you out of it. O ye pretty triflers, I entreat
you not to do the devil’s work any longer. Whatever ye do
yourselves, do not harden the hearts of others. And you, that
are of a better mind, avoid these tempters with all possible
care. You answer, universal custom is against me. Not only the
profane, but the religious world, run violently the other way.
Look into, I do not say the theatres, but the churches, nay,
and the meetings of every denomination (except a few old
fashioned quakers, or the people called Moravians); look into
the congregations, in London or elsewhere, of those that are
styled gospel ministers; look into Northampton chapel, yea,
into the Tabernacle, or the chapel in Tottenham Court Road;
nay, look into the chapel in West Street, or that in the City
Road; look at the very people that sit under the pulpit, or by
the side of it,--and are not _those that can afford it_ (I can
hardly refrain from doing them the honour of naming their
names) as richly, as fashionably adorned, as those of the same
rank in other places? This is a melancholy truth. I am ashamed
of it; but I know not how to help it. I call heaven and earth
to witness this day, that it is not my fault. The trumpet has
not _given an uncertain sound_, for near fifty years last past.
O God! Thou knowest I have borne a clear and faithful
testimony. In print, in preaching, in meeting the society, I
have not shunned to declare the whole counsel of God. I am,
therefore, clear of the blood of those that will not hear. It
lies upon their own heads. And, yet, I warn you once more, in
the name, and in the presence of God, that the number of those
that rebel against God is no excuse for their rebellion. He
hath expressly told us, _Thou shalt not follow the multitude to
do evil_. I conjure you, all who have any regard for me, show
me, before I go hence, that I have not laboured, even in this
respect, in vain, for near half a century. Let me see, before I
die, a Methodist congregation full as plainly dressed as a
quaker congregation. Only be more consistent with yourselves.
Let your dress be _cheap_ as well as plain; otherwise, you do
but trifle with God and me, and your own souls. I pray, let
there be no costly silks among you, how grave soever they may
be. Let there be no _quaker linen_, proverbially so called, for
their exquisite fineness; no Brussels lace; no elephantine hats
or bonnets, those scandals of female modesty. Be all of a
piece, dressed, from head to foot, as persons _professing
godliness_; professing to do everything small and great, with
the single view of pleasing God.”
Wesley’s sermon on the Lord’s Supper was written in 1732, and has been
already noticed. To the sentiments then avowed, he still adhered.
That on the More Excellent Way is characteristic of himself; and
re-enforces his views on early rising, on the manner of transacting
business, on food, conversation, amusements, and money. One or two
extracts may be given.
“Diversions are of various kinds. Some are almost peculiar to
men, as the sports of the field,--hunting, shooting, fishing.
Others are indifferently used by persons of both sexes,--as
races, masquerades, plays, assemblies, balls, cards, dancing
and music; to which may be added, the reading of plays, novels,
romances, newspapers, and fashionable poetry. Some diversions,
which were formerly in great request, are now fallen into
disrepute. The nobility and gentry, (in England at least,) seem
totally to disregard the once fashionable diversion of hawking;
and the vulgar themselves are no longer diverted by men hacking
and hewing each other in pieces at broad sword. The noble game
of quarter staff, likewise, is now exercised by very few. Yea,
cudgelling has lost its humour, even in Wales itself. Bear
baiting is now very seldom seen, and bull baiting not very
often. And it seems cock fighting would totally cease in
England, were it not for two or three right honourable patrons.
It is not needful to say anything more of these foul ‘remains
of Gothic barbarity,’ than that they are a reproach, not only
to all religion, but even to human nature. One would not pass
so severe a censure on the sports of the field. Let those, who
have nothing better to do, still run foxes and hares out of
breath. Neither need much be said about horse races, till some
man of sense will undertake to defend them. It seems a great
deal more may be said in defence of seeing a serious tragedy. I
could not do it with a clear conscience, at least, not in an
English theatre, the sink of all profaneness and debauchery;
but possibly others can. I cannot say quite so much for balls,
or assemblies; which are more reputable than masquerades, but
must be allowed, by all impartial persons, to have exactly the
same tendency. So undoubtedly have all public dancings. Of
playing at cards, I say the same as seeing of plays. I could
not do it with a clear conscience. But I am not obliged to pass
any sentence on those that are otherwise minded. I leave them
to their own Master; to Him let them stand or fall.
“But supposing these, as well as the reading of plays, novels,
newspapers, and the like, to be quite _innocent diversions_,
yet are there not more excellent ways of diverting themselves,
for those that love or fear God? Would men of fortune divert
themselves in the open air? They may do it, by cultivating and
improving their lands, by planting their grounds, by laying
out, carrying on, and perfecting their gardens and orchards. At
other times, they may visit and converse with the most serious
and sensible of their neighbours; or they may visit the sick,
the poor, the widows, and fatherless in their afflictions. Do
they desire to divert themselves in the house? They may read
useful history, pious and elegant poetry, or several branches
of natural philosophy. If you have time, you may divert
yourselves by music, and perhaps by philosophical experiments.
But, above all, when you have once learned the use of prayer,
you will find, that this will fill every space of life, be
interfused with all your employments, and, wherever you are,
whatever you do, embrace you on every side. Then you will be
able to say boldly:
‘With me no melancholy void,
No moment lingers unemployed,
Or unimproved below;
My weariness of life is gone,
Who live to serve my God alone,
And only Jesus know.’”
On the subject of money, Wesley’s “More Excellent Way,” to the worldly
minded, is equally startling, but one which he himself, for fifty
years, invariably adopted.
“If you have a family, seriously consider, before God, how much
each member of it wants, in order to have what is needful for
life and godliness. And, in general, do not allow them less,
nor much more than you allow yourself. This being done, fix
your purpose, to gain no more. I charge you, in the name of
God, do not increase your substance! As it comes daily or
yearly, so let it go: otherwise you _lay up treasures upon
earth_; and this our Lord as flatly forbids, as murder and
adultery. By doing it, therefore, you would _treasure up to
yourselves wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of
the righteous judgment of God_. But suppose it were not
forbidden, how can you, on principles of reason, spend your
money in a way, which God may _possibly forgive_, instead of
spending it in a manner which He will _certainly reward_? You
will have no reward in heaven, for what you _lay up_: you will,
for what you _lay out_. Every pound you put into the earthly
bank is sunk; it brings no interest above. But every pound you
give to the poor is put into the bank of heaven; and it will
bring glorious interest; yea, and such as will be accumulating
to all eternity.”
This was plain speaking; but who will undertake to gainsay it?
The sermon on Christian Courtesy is full of the wisdom of an aged, and
widely experienced, saint; while that on Former Times Better than
These is equally remarkable, and well worth reading.
The _Arminian Magazine_ for 1787 is enriched, as usual, with letters,
poetry, biography, apparition anecdotes, and choice extracts from
other writers; but, besides these, there are a few other productions
from Wesley’s pen, as his able article “On Allegorical Writings in
general, and especially the Parables of our Lord”; and his weighty
“Thoughts upon Methodism.” We can only afford space for an extract
from the latter. He writes:
“I am not afraid, that the people called Methodists should ever
cease to exist either in Europe or America. But I am afraid,
lest they should only exist as a dead sect, having the form of
religion without the power. And this undoubtedly will be the
case, unless they hold fast both the doctrine, spirit, and
discipline with which they first set out.”
After describing the rise of Methodism, he proceeds:
“From this short sketch of Methodism, any man of understanding
may easily discern, that it is only plain, scriptural religion,
guarded by a few prudential regulations. The essence of it is
holiness of heart and life; the circumstantials all point to
this. And as long as they are joined together in the people
called Methodists, no weapon formed against them shall prosper.
But, if even the circumstantial parts are despised, the
essential will soon be lost. And if ever the essential parts
should evaporate, what remains will be dung and dross.
“It nearly concerns us to see how the case stands with us at
present. I fear, wherever riches have increased (exceeding few
are the exceptions) the essence of religion, the mind that was
in Christ, has decreased in the same proportion. Therefore, I
do not see how it is possible, in the nature of things, for any
revival of true religion to continue long. For religion must
necessarily produce both industry and frugality; and these
cannot but produce riches. But as riches increase, so will
pride, anger, and love of the world in all its branches.
“How then is it possible that Methodism, that is, the religion
of the heart, though it flourishes now as a green bay tree,
should continue in this state? For the Methodists in every
place grow diligent and frugal; consequently, they increase in
goods. Hence, they proportionably increase in pride, in the
desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and the pride of
life. So, although the form of religion remains, the spirit is
swiftly vanishing away.
“Is there no way to prevent this? this continual declension of
pure religion? We ought not to forbid people to be diligent and
frugal; we _must_ exhort all Christians, to gain all they can,
and to save all they can: that is, in effect, to grow rich!
What way then, I ask again, can we take, that our money may not
sink us to the nethermost hell? There is one way, and there is
no other under heaven. If those who _gain all they can_, and
_save all they can_, will likewise _give all they can_, then
the more they gain, the more they will grow in grace, and the
more treasure they will lay up in heaven.”
Wesley knew not how to flatter. However painful to himself or to
others, when he deemed it needful, he never tried to conceal his
thoughts. The above was not likely to win him the applause of
prosperous and rich Methodists; but that to him was a matter of
indifference. His great anxiety was to perpetuate _Methodism_,--not
merely _Methodists_.