3. They were exempted from acting as jurymen.

4. They were exempted from military service, in the American colonies,

under reasonable conditions.[109]

This was a singular episode in Moravian history. Zinzendorf was proud

of it; and well he might. It was scarcely fifteen years since the

Moravians first set foot in England. They had been torn by faction, and

persecuted by furious mobs. Their tenets, in many instances, were far

from orthodox. Many of their practices were silly and objectionable.

Their hymns and literature were loathsomely luscious, and familiarly

irreverent. Their leader, though a German noble, and, upon the whole,

benevolent and devout, was ambitious and overbearing, if not insane;

and yet, the British parliament had already given them not only a legal

standing, but an ecclesiastical cognomen of their own selecting, and

had granted them exemptions, which they had no right to claim. How was

this? We can hardly tell; but a German sat on the British throne, and

his court, to a great extent, was a German court.

A few months after the Moravian bill was passed by parliament,

Zinzendorf had put to the press, in his own private printing office,

a folio volume, entitled “_Acta Fratrum in Anglia_,” containing (1)

all the past public negotiations in England; (2) an exposition of the

doctrine, liturgy, and constitutions of the Brethren’s congregations.

This was the “folio history,” of which the pamphlet, that we have

attributed to Wesley, professes to give the “contents.” The following

are a few of the writer’s running observations.

“The absurdities of this history are fairly confuted by only repeating

them.” Referring to the expression, “blood and wounds theology,” he

asks,—“Is this honouring the name and sacrifice of the glorious Son of

God? O count! art thou wiser, or more inspired, than Paul or Peter?

If thou art not, surely thou art lost in thine own greatness, and

swallowed up in the delusions of the devil.” (Page 38.)

“Here follows a dark apology for their enigmatical jargon, in which

they say, ‘The people who pick up and pervert our practical phrases

incur a terrible guilt thereby.’ 1. The much greater part of their

phrases are altogether unintelligible to any but themselves, and

therefore none but some of themselves can pervert them. 2. Those

phrases that have a little common sense in them are so encumbered with

nonsense and error, that it is hardly possible not to reprove them,

which I suppose is called perverting them.” (Page 43.)

“As to ordinances, the _Unitas Fratrum_ have ‘baptism, with a covenant

water certainly impregnated with the blood of Christ’; and the Lord’s

supper, which they call ‘a partaking of the corpse of our Saviour, at

receiving which, they prostrate themselves in awe of His tremendous

majesty.’ I cannot once imagine, they have any design to promote

popery; but, O count! don’t you see, that these expressions might have

been used by Ignatius Loyola, in honour of holy water and his wafer

god?” (Page 44.)

“Their thoughts on marriage are dark and mysterious. They call it, ‘an

holy mystery, a _sacramentum magnum_.’ And by their own account, their

hymns on this subject are not fit to be read by any that attach bad

ideas to bad expressions; but say they, ‘We hold forth chaste matter

under usual and express words.’ O ye dreamers! When will ye hold forth

nothing but what is taught by God and the holy Scriptures? Why do you

choose to express yourselves as if taught in the school of Ignatius

Loyola?” (Page 45.)

“Will you receive advice, ye _Unitas Fratrum_? Then, for the glory

of the gospel of Jesus Christ, appear to the world clothed in the

robes of innocency and truth. Lay aside your darkness, and bring

all your words to light. If you have any meaning, reveal it for the

good of souls; if you have no meaning, call yourselves anything but

Christians.” (Page 50.)

Attached to the pamphlet is a postscript addressed to those of the

_Unitas Fratrum_, who once were Methodists. The following is an

extract:—

“Is not your doctrine dull, flat, and insipid? Does it not come from

a floating imagination? Is not its chief aim to fill the mind with

ideas of the Lamb’s heart? of soaking and melting in blood? of playing

near, and creeping into the side-hole? of pretty, happy sinnership? of

beating the little sinner on the bill when he has been naughty? and

of a thousand such strange, unheard of absurdities? Your doctors, by

playing with words, and jingling soft sounds, may delight the fancy;

but whoever they are that look for sense, must miss of edification.”

(Page 57.)

Such are fair specimens of the short critiques of the curious

“contents” of Zinzendorf’s folio history of the “_Acta Fratrum in

Anglia_.” It is painful to have to record quarrels among old friends

and brethren; but facts are too serious to be blinked for an author’s

private pleasure. As a sort of counterpoise to this unpleasantness, we

subjoin an extract from a letter, addressed to Wesley, by Cennick, at

this time the most laborious and successful Moravian preacher in the

sister island.

“DUBLIN, _June 25, 1751_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—Yesterday I received yours, and assure you, I am

sincere in my desires and proposals of speaking and writing freely to

each other; and wish heartily, that Christians conferring together had

hindered the making that wide space between us and you. Perhaps He

that maketh men to be of one mind in a house, may nevertheless, in our

days, begin the gathering together in one the people of God that are

scattered abroad. I think, if I could see the dawn of that gracious

day, I would wish no more, but be content to labour myself to death,

and finish my pilgrimage with a cheerfulness inexpressible. Till

then, as long as people in many things think differently, all must be

allowed their Christian liberty; and though some may remove from you

to us, or from us to you, without becoming bitter, and with upright

views to please our Saviour, I can see no harm in it. I really love

the servants and witnesses of Jesus in all the world. I wish all to

prosper. I salute Mrs. Wesley; and assure you, I am your affectionate

loving brother,

“JOHN CENNICK.”[110]

This is very beautiful, especially remembering the past and present

days. Wesley entitles the letter, “Sincere professions of Christian

love.” They do Cennick credit, and were grateful to the heart and mind

of Wesley.

Cennick’s letter concludes with a salutation to Mrs. Wesley; and we

must now refer to another painful subject—Wesley’s marriage.[111] This

took place in the month of February. The exact day is doubtful. Wesley

says it was a few days after February 2. The _Gentleman’s Magazine_

has the following in its list of marriages: “February 18.—Rev. Mr.

John Wesley, Methodist preacher, to a merchant’s widow in Threadneedle

Street, with a jointure of £300 per annum”; and the _London Magazine_:

“February 19.—Rev. Mr. John Wesley, to Mrs. Vazel, of Threadneedle

Street, a widow lady of large fortune.” The large fortune consisted of

£10,000, invested in three per cent. consols, and was wholly secured to

herself and her four children.[112]

Charles Wesley seems to have been introduced to her in July, 1749, at

Edward Perronet’s, and describes her then as “a woman of sorrowful

spirit.” Mr. Moore remarks, that Mrs. Vazeille (her proper name), from

all that he had heard of her from Wesley, and from others, seemed at

the time to be well qualified for her new position. “She appeared to

be truly pious, and was very agreeable in her person and manners. She

conformed to every company, whether of the rich or of the poor; and

had a remarkable facility and propriety in addressing them concerning

their true interests.”[113] Mr. Watson observes, that “she was a woman

of cultivated understanding, as her remaining letters testify; and that

she appeared to Mr. Wesley to possess every other qualification, which

promised to increase both his usefulness and happiness, we may conclude

from his having made choice of her as his companion.” Mr. Jackson

says: “Neither in understanding nor in education was she worthy of the

eminent man to whom she was united; and her temper was intolerably bad.

During the lifetime of her first husband, she appears to have enjoyed

every indulgence; and, judging from some of his letters to her, which

have been preserved, he paid an entire deference to her will. Her

habits and spirit were ill adapted to the privations and inconveniences

which were incident to her new mode of life, as the travelling

companion of Mr. John Wesley.”[114] Hampson remarks: “The connection

was unfortunate. There never was a more preposterous union. It is

pretty certain that no loves lighted their torches on this occasion;

and it is as much to be presumed, that neither did Plutus preside

at the solemnity. Mrs. Wesley’s property was too inconsiderable, to

warrant the supposition that it was a match of interest. Besides,

had she been ever so rich, it was nothing to him; for every shilling

of her fortune remained at her own disposal; and neither the years,

nor the temper of the parties, could give any reason to suppose them

violently enamoured. That this lady accepted his proposals, seems much

less surprising than that he should have made them. It is probable,

his situation at the head of a sect, and the authority it conferred,

was not without its charms in the eyes of an ambitious female. But we

much wonder, that Mr. Wesley should have appeared so little acquainted

with himself and with human nature. He certainly did not possess the

conjugal virtues. He had no taste for the tranquillity of domestic

retirement: while his situation, as an itinerant, left him little

leisure for those attentions which are absolutely necessary, to the

comfort of married life.”[115] Dr. Whitehead writes: “Mr. Wesley’s

constant habit of travelling, the number of persons who came to

visit him wherever he was, and his extensive correspondence, were

circumstances unfavourable to that social intercourse, mutual openness

and confidence, which form the basis of happiness in the married state.

These circumstances, indeed, would not have been so very unfavourable,

had he married a woman who could have entered into his views, and have

accommodated herself to his situation. But this was not the case. Had

he searched the whole kingdom, he would hardly have found a woman more

unsuitable in these respects, than she whom he married.”[116]

From the first, Charles Wesley felt the strongest aversion to his

brother’s marriage. Why? Mr. Jackson suggests, that this could not

proceed from any feeling of personal or family dislike to Mrs. Vazeille

(which we somewhat doubt); nor from any repugnance to the marriage

state, for he himself was eminently happy in that relation; but because

he believed that, by this means, Wesley’s labours would be confined

within the same comparatively narrow circle, as his own, and, as a

consequence, many of the Methodist societies, for want of oversight,

would become Independent churches; a wide separation from the national

establishment would ensue, and the kingdom be deprived of that

extensive reformation which the brothers had hoped by God’s blessing to

effect.

Probably there is some truth in this; but we still incline to the

opinion, that Charles Wesley’s dislike to the marriage was, at least,

partly owing to a disapprobation of his brother’s choice. In 1750,

Charles took her on a fortnight’s visit to his wife’s relations at

Ludlow; and, on her return to London, he and his Sally, for eight or

nine days, were guests of Mrs. Vazeille herself. Charles was a keen

discerner of personal character,—perhaps much more than his brother

was,—and must have seen some of the faults which afterwards became more

apparent, and to which, at subsequent periods, he so frequently refers.

At all events, on February 2, a fortnight before the marriage, he

writes as follows: “My brother told me he was _resolved to marry_. I

was thunderstruck, and could only answer, he had given me the first

blow, and his marriage would come like the _coup de grace_. Trusty Ned

Perronet followed, and told me, the person was Mrs. Vazeille! one of

whom I had never had the least suspicion. I refused his company to the

chapel, and retired to mourn with my faithful Sally. I groaned all the

day, and several following ones, under my own and the people’s burdens.

I could eat no pleasant food, nor preach, nor rest, either by night or

by day.”

On the same day, Wesley himself wrote: “Having received a full answer

from Mr. Perronet, I was clearly convinced, that I ought to marry.

For many years, I remained single, because I believed I could be

more useful in a single than in a married state. And I praise God,

who enabled me so to do. I now as fully believed that, in my present

circumstances, I might be more useful in a married state.”

This is a curious entry. Can it be true that, up to this day, Wesley

had not proposed marriage to Mrs. Vazeille? that Vincent Perronet’s

letter brought him to a decision? that he acquainted his brother as

soon as he had made up his mind? and that all the courtship preceding

his marriage was really of not more than fifteen or sixteen days’

continuance? If so, no wonder that this, like most hasty marriages, was

so unfortunate.

This brief period was a curious episode in Wesley’s history. Four

days after he told his brother that he “_was resolved to marry_” he

strangely enough “met the single men” of the London society, “and

showed them on how many accounts it was good for those who had received

that gift from God, to remain ‘single for the kingdom of heaven’s

sake;’ unless where a particular case might be an exception to the

general rule.” His intention was to set out five days after this, on

his journey to the north; but, on the day before he purposed starting,

his feet slipped on the ice, in crossing London Bridge, and he fell

with great force, the bone of his ankle lighting on a stone, and one

of his legs being severely sprained. A surgeon bound up the leg; and,

with great difficulty, he proceeded to Seven Dials, where he preached.

He attempted to preach again, at the Foundery, at night; but his sprain

became so painful, that he was obliged to relinquish his intention;

and, at once, removed to Threadneedle Street, where Mrs. Vazeille

resided; and here he spent the seven days next ensuing, “partly,” he

says, “in prayer, reading, and _conversation_, and partly in writing

a Hebrew grammar, and Lessons for Children.” During this brief period

of enforced retirement, when he had purposed to be far on his way

to the north of England, the _tete-a-tete_ unexpectedly issued in a

marriage. The accident occurred on Sunday, February 10; on the Sunday

following, he was “carried to the Foundery, and preached kneeling,”

not being yet able to stand; and, on the next day, or, at most, the

day after that, cripple though he was, he succeeded in leading Mrs.

Vazeille, a widow, seven years younger than himself, to the hymeneal

altar, and was married. On the Monday (February 18) he was still unable

to set his foot to the ground. On the Tuesday evening, and on the

Wednesday morning, he preached kneeling. This was an odd beginning,—the

bridegroom crippled, and, instead of making a wedding tour, preaching

on his knees in London chapels. A fortnight after his marriage, being,

as he says, “tolerably able to ride, though not to walk,” he set

out for Bristol, leaving his newly married wife behind him. Here he

held a five days’ conference with his preachers, who had assembled

from various parts, and says: “My spirit was much bowed down among

them, fearing some of them were perverted from the simplicity of the

gospel; but the more we conversed, the more brotherly love increased.

I expected to have heard many objections to our first doctrines; but

none appeared to have any: we seemed to be all of one mind, as well as

one heart. I mentioned whatever I thought was amiss, or wanting, in any

of our brethren. It was received in a right spirit, with much love,

and serious earnest attention; and, I trust, not one went from the

conference discontented, but rather, blessing God for the consolation.”

The conference being ended, he returned to London on March the 21st,

and, six days afterwards, set out for Scotland, and inserted in his

journal what, perhaps, was a sly hit at his brother Charles: “I cannot

understand how a Methodist preacher can answer it to God, to preach one

sermon, or travel one day less, in a married than in a single state.

In this respect surely, ‘it remaineth, that they who have wives be as

though they had none.’”

Was there ever a marriage like John Wesley’s? It was one of the

greatest blunders he ever made. A man who attains to the age of

forty-eight, without marrying, ought to remain a bachelor for life,

inasmuch as he has, almost of necessity, formed habits, and has

acquired angularities and excrescences, which will never harmonize with

the relationships and duties of the married state. Besides, if there

ever was a man whose mission was so great and so peculiar as to render

it inexpedient for him to become a benedict, Wesley was such a man.

His marriage was ill advised as well as ill assorted. On both sides,

it was, to a culpable extent, hasty, and was contracted without proper

and sufficient thought. Young people entering into hurried marriages

deserve and incur censure; and if so, what shall be said of Wesley and

his wife? They married in haste, and had leisure to repent. Their act

was, in a high degree, an act of folly; and, properly enough, to the

end of life, both of them were made to suffer a serious penalty. It is

far from pleasant to pursue the subject; but perhaps it is needful.

In a world of danger like this, we must look at beacons as well as

beauties. Let us then, as far as is possible, see the results of this

hasty and ill judged marriage, and then have done with it.

One necessary consequence was the resignation of Wesley’s fellowship,

which he sent, on the 1st of June, to the following effect;—“I, John

Wesley, fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford, do hereby spontaneously and

freely resign whatever rights I possess in the aforesaid society, to

the rector and fellows of the same: wishing to all and each of them

perpetual peace and every species of felicity in Christ.”

Another result was a painful quarrel with his brother. It is true,

this was not of long continuance; for, on March 22, they met

together, and had free and full explanations, and were reconciled

to each other.[117] So they said, and yet it is a fact, that, for

years afterwards, there seemed to be a shyness and a want of perfect

confidence between them. Charles pitied the misfortune of his brother;

but never attempted to excuse his folly. Towards his brother’s wife,

he found it difficult to maintain, at all times, the semblance of

courteous conduct. Nine days after the marriage, he kissed her, and

assured her he was reconciled to her and his brother. In the month of

May following he says: “I met my sister in Bristol, and behaved to her

_as such_. I showed her, both at my own house, and the houses of my

friends, all the civility in my power.” A month later, he found her in

tears, heard her complaints against her husband, and professed love,

pity, and a desire to help her. Serious quarrels, however, ensued

after this, between her and Charles, and when Wesley thought himself

dying, in December 1753, he made it his request to his wife and to

his brother, to forget the past; which, says the latter, “I readily

agreed to, and once more offered her my service in great sincerity.”

A year or two later, the following significant sentences occur in

Charles’s letters to his wife: “I called, two minutes before preaching,

on Mrs. Wesley, at the Foundery; and, in all that time, had not one

quarrel.”[118] Again: “I hope Mrs. Wesley keeps her distance. If malice

is stronger in her than pride, she will pay you a mischievous visit.

Poor Mr. Lefevre laments that he cannot love her. Blessed be God, I

can, and desire to love her more.”[119] In 1766, he describes her as

“quite placid and tame,” and desires his Sally to be courteous to her

without trusting her.[120] Charles’s friendship for his sister-in-law

was down to freezing point, and his wife’s seems to have been lower

still.

What concerning Wesley himself? His wife’s money soon became a trouble;

and at no time was a benefit. Within two months after his unhappy

marriage, we find him writing to his friend Blackwell, asking him to

render his assistance in settling her affairs; and adding: “She has

many trials, but not one more than God knows to be profitable to her.

I believe you have been, and will be, a means of removing some. If

these outward incumbrances were removed, it might be a means of her

spending more time with me; which would probably be useful as well as

agreeable to her.”[121]

Mrs. Wesley seems to have accompanied her husband in his long northern

journey, undertaken a few weeks after they were married. She, also,

went with him into Cornwall, in the month of August following.

Again, in March 1752, she, and one of her daughters, shared all the

adventures, privations, and roughnesses of another three months’

journey to the north of England.[122] On the way, while at Epworth,

Wesley wrote as follows to Mr. Blackwell: “April 16, 1752.—My wife is,

at least, as well as when we left London: the more she travels, the

better she bears it. It gives us yet another proof, that, whatever God

calls us to, He will fit us for. I was, at first, a little afraid,

she would not so well understand the behaviour of a Yorkshire mob;

but there has been no trial; even the Methodists are now at peace

throughout the kingdom.”[123] Before the month was ended, Wesley and

his wife had mobbing to their hearts’ content.

Hitherto, their married life, if not ecstatic, had not been absolutely

miserable. Things, however, were soon altered. On November 3, 1752,

Vincent Perronet wrote as follows to Charles Wesley: “I am truly

concerned that matters are in so melancholy a situation. I think

the unhappy lady is most to be pitied, though the gentleman’s case

is mournful enough. Their sufferings proceed from widely different

causes. His are the visible chastisements of a loving Father; hers, the

immediate effects of an angry, bitter spirit; and, indeed, it is a sad

consideration, that, after so many months have elapsed, the same warmth

and bitterness should remain.”[124]

This was within a year and three quarters of the time when the marriage

ceremony was performed. Four months later, she again went with Wesley

to the north and to Scotland. Indeed, up to the year 1755, she seems,

generally speaking, to have been his travelling companion; but, in the

autumn of that year, there was a change. Wesley then went to Cornwall

without her, and, while there, sent a packet of letters to Charles

Perronet. The packet came into the hands of his jealous wife; most

unwarrantably she opened it, and, finding a few lines addressed to Mrs.

Lefevre, fell into a furious passion.[125] Ever after, there was little

else than a succession of connubial storms. In February, 1756, Wesley

wrote to Sarah Ryan: “Your last letter was seasonable indeed. I was

growing faint in my mind. The being continually watched over for evil;

the having every word I spoke, every action I did, small and great,

watched with no friendly eye; the hearing a thousand little, tart,

unkind reflections, in return for the kindest words I could devise—

‘Like drops of eating water on the marble,

At length have worn my sinking spirits down.’

Yet I could not say, ‘Take Thy plague away from me;’ but only, ‘Let me

be purified, not consumed.’[126]

We have here a painful discovery of the consuming sorrows of Wesley’s

domestic life. No doubt, there were faults on his side as well as on

the side of his twitting wife. No one, for instance, will for a moment

attempt to justify his writing, in the terms just quoted, to Sarah

Ryan, his Bristol housekeeper, who, however pious after her conversion,

lived a most disreputable life before it. This was, to say the least,

supremely foolish; but still it was not sufficient to justify his

wife’s subsequent cruel and almost insane behaviour. In another letter

to Sarah Ryan he writes as follows:—

“_January 27, 1758._

“MY DEAR SISTER,—Last Friday, after many severe words, my wife left

me, vowing she would see me no more. As I had wrote to you the same

morning, I began to reason with myself, till I almost doubted whether

I had done well in writing, or whether I ought to write to you at

all. After prayer, that doubt was taken away. Yet I was almost sorry

I had written that morning. In the evening, while I was preaching at

the chapel, she came into the chamber where I had left my clothes,

searched my pockets, and found the letter there, which I had finished,

but had not sealed. While she read it, God broke her heart; and I

afterwards found her in such a temper as I have not seen her in for

several years. She has continued in the same ever since. So I think

God has given a sufficient answer, with regard to our writing to each

other.”[127]

We think nothing of the kind; and again regret his writing such a

letter, on such a subject, to such a woman. His motives and his end

were unquestionably pure; but the act itself cannot be defended. His

wife was jealous, cruelly jealous, and he ought to have avoided what

was likely to feed and increase her passion.

Wesley and his wife, however, were again united, but were far from

being happy. So things proceeded till 1771. “On one occasion, she

seized his letters and other papers, and put them into the hands of

such as she knew to be his enemies, that they might be printed, as

presumptive proofs of illicit connections.” She even interpolated

letters which she had intercepted, so as to make them bear a bad

construction, and then read them to different persons in private, for

the purpose of defaming him. In one or two instances, she published

interpolated or forged letters in the public prints.[128] She accused

Charles Wesley of idleness, and declared that, for years, his dearest

Sally had been John Wesley’s mistress. Charles danced with rage at this

imputation cast upon his wife; but his Sally calmly smiled, and said,

“Who will believe my sister now?”[129] Frequently she would drive a

hundred miles to observe who was in the carriage with her husband on

his entering a town. Sometimes her passions hurried her into outrage

and indecency. More than once, she laid violent hands upon his person,

and tore his hair.[130] “Jack,” said John Hampson, senior, to his

son, “I was once on the point of committing murder. Once, when I was

in the north of Ireland, I went into a room, and found Mrs. Wesley

foaming with fury. Her husband was on the floor, where she had been

trailing him by the hair of his head; and she herself was still holding

in her hand venerable locks which she had plucked up by the roots. I

felt,” continued the gigantic Hampson, who was not one of Wesley’s

warmest friends, “I felt as though I could have knocked the soul out of

her.”[131]

Other statements of the same character might be multiplied; but we

are aweary of this painful subject. “Fain,” writes Southey, “would

she have made him, like Marc Antony, give up all for love; and, being

disappointed in that hope, she tormented him in such a manner, by her

outrageous jealousy and abominable temper, that she deserves to be

classed in a triad with Xantippe and the wife of Job, as one of the

three bad wives.”

In the midst of all this, Wesley, on one occasion, wrote her as

follows:—

“I cannot but add a few words: not by way of reproach, but of advice.

God has used many means to curb your stubborn will, and break the

impetuosity of your temper. He has given you a dutiful but sickly

daughter; He has taken away one of your sons; another has been a

grievous cross, as the third probably will be. He has suffered you to

be defrauded of much money; He has chastened you with strong pain.

And still He may say, ‘How long liftest thou up thyself against Me?’

Are you more humble, more gentle, more patient, more placable than

you were? I fear, quite the reverse; I fear, your natural tempers are

rather increased than diminished. O beware, lest God give you up to

your own heart’s lusts, and let you follow your own imaginations!

“Under all these conflicts, it might be an unspeakable blessing, that

you have a husband who knows your temper and can bear with it; who,

after you have tried him numberless ways, laid to his charge things

that he knew not, robbed him, betrayed his confidence, revealed his

secrets, given him a thousand treacherous wounds, purposely aspersed

and murdered his character, and made it your _business_ so to do,

under the poor pretence of vindicating your own character—who, I say,

after all these provocations, is still willing to forgive you all,

to overlook what is past, as if it had not been, and to receive you

with open arms; only not while you have a sword in your hand, with

which you are continually striking at me, though you cannot hurt me.

If, notwithstanding, you continue striking, what can I, what can all

reasonable men think, but that either you are utterly out of your

senses, or your eye is not single; that you married me only for my

money; that, being disappointed, you were almost always out of humour;

and that this laid you open to a thousand suspicions, which, once

awakened, could sleep no more?

“My dear Molly, let the time past suffice. As yet, the breach may be

repaired. You have wronged me much, but not beyond forgiveness. I love

you still, and am as clear from all other women as the day I was

born. At length, know me, and know yourself. Your enemy I cannot be;

but let me be your friend. Suspect me no more, asperse me no more,

provoke me no more. Do not any longer contend for mastery, for power,

money, or praise. Be content to be a private insignificant person,

known and loved by God and me. Attempt no more to abridge me of my

liberty, which I claim by the laws of God and man. Leave me to be

governed by God and my own conscience. Then shall I govern you with

gentle sway, and show that I do indeed love you, even as Christ the

church.”[132]

This is a manly, noble, loving letter, and ought to have produced a

good effect; but on January 23, 1771, he wrote: “For what cause I know

not, my wife set out for Newcastle, purposing ‘never to return.’ _Non

eam reliqui: non dimisi: non revocabo._”

Her reason for repairing to Newcastle may be found in the fact that,

two years previously, her daughter, Miss Vazeille, had been united in

marriage to Mr. William Smith, a distinguished and highly influential

member of the Orphan House society.[133] Wesley’s next visit to the

northern metropolis did not take place till the month of May, 1772,

when differences were once again made up; and, on his return to

Bristol, his wife came back with him.[134] This, however, was but a

patched up peace. One of Wesley’s letters to his wife has just been

given; and now is added one from his wife to him.

“LONDON, _May 31, 1774_.

“MY DEAR,—Your laconic letter from Edinburgh, May 18, would have

seemed strange if I had not known you. Honest John Pawson makes it

his business to slander me wherever he goes, saying: ‘Mrs. Wesley

has several hundred pounds in her hands belonging to Mr. Wesley, but

how he will ever get it from her, I know not, except he puts her to

trouble for it, for I do not believe there is a more covetous minded

woman in the world than she is.’ In this way, he, and J. Allen, and

your old quondam friend, Mary Madan, did all they could to render my

life bitter while at Bristol. Mary Madan, the very day you set off

from Bristol, said, ‘I hope Mrs. Wesley is not to stay here till Mr.

Wesley returns, for, if she does, this society will be quite ruined.’

There were many high words between her and some of the stewards, the

night I and Mr. Lewis came from setting you out of town. It was true,

I had a horse, but in this I soon was made to _see_ and _feel_ her

power, for whenever I wanted to ride, she would contrive to send the

man out on some trifling thing or other, so that I have been fourteen

days together without riding at all; and when I did, I was sure to be

lectured by your man telling me he had enough to do for Mr. Charles

Wesley and Mrs. Madan. As I could not use my horse there, and Mr.

Lewis telling me Mr. Charles Wesley wanted him to hire one for the

man to ride by the side of their carriage, and that it would save the

society a guinea if I would lend my horse instead of their hiring one,

I said, ‘with all my heart.’ But I was soon informed by your brother,

that the London stewards would not like my horse to go; that he must

have three there himself; and that a subscription was proposed to buy

the third. It was no hard matter to find how I was circumstanced. As

I could get no one to ride with me, I did not care to put you to the

expense of keeping my horse; so I sold it. So that evil is removed.

The next must be myself. Then the Methodists _must be a pure people_,

when the troubler of their happiness and peace is removed. My dear

friend, let me beg of you for God’s sake, for your own sake, put a

stop to this torrent of evil that is poured out against me. It is

cruel to make me an offender for defending myself. If you or any

others have anything to lay to my charge, let it be proved. I desire

to be open to conviction; but, surely, I have a right to do justice

to myself, when I have it in my power. The trials and persecutions I

have met with lately, were they accompanied with any degree of guilt,

would make me of all creatures most miserable; but, bless God, He has

hitherto kept me from a prey to my enemies; though I am often tempted

to fear I shall not hold out any longer, as I am a poor, weak woman,

alone against a formidable body.

“I am your affectionate wife,

“M. WESLEY.”[135]

The letter, from which the above is copied, refutes Mr. Watson’s

assertion, that “Mrs. Vazeille was a woman of cultivated

understanding”; and confirms Mr. Jackson’s statement, that “neither in

understanding nor education was she worthy of the eminent man to whom

she was united.” Without altering the sense, we have been obliged to

revise both the orthography and syntax of the letter, in order to make

it at all fit to appear in print. Mrs. Wesley was evidently a woman of

no education, beyond the ability to read and write. Perhaps no better

description of her character, as a woman and a wife, can be furnished

than what is patent in the peevish, petulant, murmuring, miserable

letter just given. Here we leave her, simply adding that, after being

Wesley’s wife for a little more than thirty years, she died at the age

of seventy-one, on October 8, 1781.[136] Wesley, at the time, was in

the west of England; but writes, on October 12, as follows: “I came to

London, and was informed that my wife died on Monday. This evening she

was buried, though I was not informed of it till a day or two after.”

Her fortune, which, by losses and by fraud, had been reduced from

ten to five thousand pounds, she bequeathed to her son; and left her

husband nothing but a ring.[137] The epitaph on her tombstone describes

her as “a woman of exemplary piety, a tender parent, and a sincere

friend”; but is wisely silent concerning her conduct as a wife.

Perhaps more than enough has been already said. It must be remembered,

however, that John Wesley’s marriage affected and tinged thirty years

of his public life. It was one of the gravest events in his chequered

history; and, on this ground, it deserves attention. Wesley was not

faultless. He married too hurriedly to know the character of the woman

whom he made his wife; and he would have acted more wisely if he had

refrained from writing religious letters to female members of his

society, of whom his wife was jealous. This is all that can be fairly

alleged against him. No one will venture to affirm, that he was wanting

in affection; and no one can successfully accuse him of treating his

wife with coldness and reserve. Charles, a keen judge of character,

declared that nothing could surpass his brother’s patience in bearing

with his perverse and peevish spouse. Several of his letters to her,

written after their marriage, have been preserved; and display the

tenderest affection, and justify the opinion that, had it been his

happiness to be married to a woman that was worthy of him, he would

have been one of the most loving husbands that ever lived. The truth

is, John Wesley’s wife was scarcely sane. Mr. Jackson writes: “Scores

of documents in her handwriting attest the violence of her temper,

and warrant the conclusion, that there was in her a certain degree of

mental unsoundness.” This is the most merciful view that it is possible

to take of her strange behaviour. In no respect was she a helpmeet for

him. As a rule, she was a bitter, unmitigated curse. At home, she was

suspicious, jealous, fretful, taunting, twitting, and often violent.

Abroad, when itinerating with him, it too generally happened, that

nought could please her. “The weather was either intolerably cold, or

insufferably hot. The roads were bad, and the means of conveyance,

unbearable. The people, by whom they were accommodated, were unpolite

and rude; the provisions were scanty, or ill prepared; and the beds

were hard, and the covering not sufficient.”[138] Such were the

whinings of a woman who began life as a domestic servant. Her husband

was a gentleman and a scholar, but was almost an utter stranger to the

comforts of wedded life. In lieu of them, he had annoyances, which,

to most men, would have been intolerable; and it is no mean proof of

the genuine greatness of his character, that during this protracted

domestic wretchedness of thirty years’ continuance, his public career

never wavered, nor appeared to lose one jot of its amazing energy. “He

repeatedly told me,” writes Henry Moore, “that he believed the Lord

overruled this painful business for his good; and that, if Mrs. Wesley

had been a better wife, he might have been unfaithful in the great work

to which God had called him, and might have too much sought to please

her according to her own views.”[139]

We must now return to the year 1751. Five weeks after his marriage,

Wesley set out for the north of England. He spent Sunday, March 31,

at Birmingham, where he warned the society against idle disputes and

vain janglings; and was “obliged to preach abroad, the room not being

able to contain half the congregation.” He writes: “O how is the scene

changed here! The last time I preached at Birmingham, the stones flew

on every side. If any disturbance were made now, the disturber would be

in more danger than the preacher.”

At Dudley, Wesley was welcomed by a “dismal screaming.” At

Wednesbury, the work had been injured by “doubtful disputations.” The

predestinarians had not come near the place while persecution lasted;

but, “when all was calm, they poured in on every side, and bereaved us

of our children.” The society was reduced from three hundred members

to seventy, all of whom were weak and lifeless.[140] Throughout the

whole neighbourhood, “the classes were miserably shattered by the

sowers of strange doctrines,”—baptists and others included.

Arriving at Bolton on the 10th of April, Wesley went to a barber to be

shaved. “Sir,” said the man of lather, “I praise God on your behalf.

When you were at Bolton last, I was one of the greatest drunkards in

the town; but I came to listen at the window, God struck me to the

heart, and twelve months ago I was converted.”

Here Wesley was also introduced to a clergyman, who deserves a passing

notice. The vicar of Chipping, a village about ten miles north of

Preston, was the Rev. J. Milner. Up to the present, Wesley and Milner

had never met, though a warm friendship existed between them. Milner

had written to Wesley in the most loving terms, and had become a

subscriber to his “Christian Library.” He had embraced Wesley’s

doctrines; and, as a consequence, most of the neighbouring clergy had

cast him off; and all manner of evil was spoken concerning him. Writing

to Wesley, in 1750, Milner says: “Twice I have had the pleasure of

seeing Mr. Ingham. There is a great deal of amiable sweetness in his

whole behaviour. I have often wished, that he was disentangled from

the Moravians, and cordially _one_ with you in promoting the interests

of the gospel. The last time I saw him, he was employed in reconciling

two of the Brethren. He allows you incomparably the preference for

prudence; but says you have not done Count Zinzendorf justice. At

first, I looked upon the difference as that betwixt Paul and Barnabas,

which was a furtherance to the gospel of Christ; but since I knew

more of the doctrine of the _still Brethren_, I have not had the same

favourable opinion of them. Yet, I cannot help thinking Mr. Ingham

happy; but may some good providence bring you speedily together; for

surely, such souls must glow at meeting, and all unkindness fly at

first sight.”[141]

Wesley accompanied Milner to his vicarage at Chipping, which,

henceforth, became one of his favourite haunts. In 1752, Milner

allowed him to occupy his church; and, for this, was brought before

the bishop. Milner told his lordship the story of the Bolton barber,

and then descanted on the grand society of Christian worshippers at

Newcastle. The bishop talked about order; but Milner replied he had

nowhere seen so little order as in the bishop’s own cathedral, where

the children took no notice of the preacher, and the choristers rudely

talked, and thrust one another with their elbows. He added, that there

certainly was need of some one to call them back to the doctrines of

the Reformation; for he knew not a single clergyman, in the whole of

Lancashire, “that would give the Church’s definition of faith, and

stand to it.”[142]

Having spent the night with Milner, Wesley and he proceeded, “over

more than Welsh mountains,” to Whitehaven, which they reached on

Saturday, April 13. At the pressing request of Joseph Cownley, Wesley

had preached here in September, 1749, and had formed a society. He now

found two hundred and forty persons meeting in class; and, among the

whole, there was only one who ever missed the class without absolute

necessity. On Saturday, April 20, he and his clerical friend Milner

arrived at the Orphan House, at Newcastle, where they found the society

“loving, simple, and zealous of good works.”

On Monday morning following, Wesley, for the first time, set out for

Scotland. This was in compliance with the wish of Captain (afterwards

Colonel) Gallatin, who was then quartered at Musselburgh; and who,

together with his Christian lady, showed the Wesleys the sincerest

friendship to the end of life. Twenty-seven years after this, Wesley

wrote: 1778, December 18.—I called upon Colonel Gallatin. But what

a change is here! The fine gentleman, the soldier, is clean gone;

sunk into a feeble, decrepit old man; not able to rise from his seat,

and hardly able to speak.” He died soon after, and Charles Wesley

evinced his respect for his memory, by composing a beautiful hymn on

the occasion, in which he speaks of him as his “bosom friend,” and as

“gentle, generous, and sincere.”

Wesley, accompanied by Christopher Hopper, arrived at Musselburgh on

April 24. He says, he had no intention to preach in Scotland; nor

did he imagine, that there were any that desired he should. A crowd,

however, collected in the evening, and “remained as statues from the

beginning of the sermon to the end.” Next day, he rode to Edinburgh,

which he describes as “one of the dirtiest cities he had ever seen,”

Cologne itself not excepted. He returned to dinner, and preached again

at six; and “used great plainness of speech,” which was “received in

love.” After preaching, one of the bailies of the town, with one of the

elders of the kirk, begged he would stay with them awhile, and promised

they would fit him up a preaching place. His other arrangements

prevented him complying with this courteous request; but, in lieu

of this, he offered them the services of Hopper. For a fortnight,

Hopper preached night and morning, to large congregations, who heard

with great attention; many were cut to the heart; several were joined

together in a small society; and thus Methodism gained a footing across

the border.[143] Other preachers followed; but the results were small.

In the month of August next ensuing, Charles Wesley, who was then at

Newcastle, wrote: “I had much discourse with a brother from Scotland,

who has preached there many weeks, and not converted one soul. ‘You may

just as well preach to the stones,’ he added, ‘as to the Scots.’ Yet,

to keep my brother’s word, I sent William Shent to Musselburgh.”

It is clear, that Charles Wesley was not flushed with hope of Methodist

success among the Scots. Whitefield, also, said to Wesley himself: “You

have no business in Scotland; for your principles are so well known,

that, if you spoke like an angel, none would hear you; and, if they

did, you would have nothing to do but to dispute with one and another

from morning to night.” To this Wesley subsequently answered: “If God

sends me, people will hear. And I will give them no provocation to

dispute; for I will studiously avoid all controverted points, and keep

to the fundamental truths of Christianity. And if any still begin to

dispute, they may; but I will not dispute with them.”[144] Whitefield,

however, was not satisfied. In a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon,

dated Edinburgh, July 30, 1751, he adds: “I have been to Musselburgh to

see Captain Gallatin and his lady. They hold on. Mr. Wesley has been

there, and intends setting up societies, which I think imprudent.”[145]

From the first, men have doubted whether Methodism had a mission to the

Scots. Even as late as the year 1826, Dr. Adam Clarke, not the least

sanguine of men, wrote: “I consider Methodism as having no hold of

Scotland, but in Glasgow and Edinburgh. If all the other chapels were

disposed of, it would be little loss to Methodism; and a great saving

of money, which might be much better employed.”[146] Wesley, however,

as we shall find hereafter, was successful; and, had his preachers and

successors adhered to the principle adopted by himself, the results

would probably have been far greater than what they are. Perhaps he

never had the popularity in Scotland that Whitefield reached; but his

work has proved to be more lasting. The one formed a denomination of

his own; the other wrought with churches already in existence, and

the fruit of his labours was lost in theirs. Though Methodism across

the Tweed has never had the same success as it has had in England,

yet it would be untrue to say, that its efforts have been a failure.

Besides, there have been causes for the difference. In England, Wesley

and his assistants found the masses ignorant; in Scotland they had to

battle with, a partially enlightened prejudice. In England, the great

body of the people were without a creed; in Scotland, the people were

creed-ridden. In England, the itinerant plan was not objected to; in

Scotland, it has always been a bugbear. Still, one cannot but lament,

that the success has not been greater; and we strongly incline to

think, that the reasons just assigned are not sufficient to account

for the sad defect. Wesley went, not to oppose and to abuse Calvinism,

but to preach fundamental truths. If others would dispute, he would

not. Truth, not controversy, is the means of converting men. Besides,

is it not a fact, that Methodism has sometimes been tampered with, in

order to adapt it, forsooth, to Scotch taste and prejudice? This was

not Wesley’s way. “What can be done to increase the work of God in

Scotland?” he asked. “Answer:—1. Preach abroad as much as possible.

2. Try every town and village. 3. Visit every member of the society

at home.”[147] “The way to do them good in Scotland,” he wrote nine

years before his death, “is to observe all our rules at Inverness,

just as you would at Sheffield; yea, and to preach the whole Methodist

doctrine, as plainly and simply as you would in Yorkshire.”[148]

On returning from Musselburgh to Newcastle, Wesley preached at Berwick,

to a large congregation, in the midst of a piercing wind; also at

Alnwick cross; and at Alemouth, where he found the largest congregation

he had seen in all Northumberland.

Having spent a week at Newcastle and among the neighbouring societies,

he set out, on the 6th of May, for the south of England. At Stockton, a

few angry people “set up a dismal scream” as he was entering the town;

but he found that, “by means of a plain, rough exhorter, the society

had been more than doubled since he was there before.”[149]

On May 7, he came to York, where was a small society of about

half-a-dozen members, with Thomas Staton as their leader, and a room in

Pump Yard for their meeting place. From York, Wesley rode to Epworth,

where he found “a poor, dead, senseless people; at which,” says he,

“I did not wonder, when I was informed (1) That some of our preachers

there had diligently gleaned up and retailed all the evil they could

hear of me; (2) that some of them had quite laid aside our hymns, as

well as the doctrine they formerly preached; (3) that one of them had

frequently spoke against our rules, and the others quite neglected

them.”

From Epworth, Wesley rode back to Leeds, where he preached “in the

walls” of a new chapel; and then held a conference with about thirty of

his preachers, particularly inquiring about “their grace, and gifts,

and fruit; and found reason to doubt of one only.” Two days after,

on the 17th of May he “preached in the new house at Birstal, already

too small for even a week day’s congregation.” And then, “after a few

days more spent among the neighbouring societies, he returned, by easy

journeys, to the metropolis.”

To add to his anxieties, Kingswood school was now in trouble. Three

years before, it had been begun with twenty-eight scholars, six

masters, and six servants. Wesley had written grammars of the English,

French, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin languages, and had printed many other

books for the use of the pupils. Soon, however, the maid servants began

to quarrel. The masters, also, failed to answer Wesley’s expectations.

One of them was rough and disobliging; another was honest and diligent,

but his person and his manner made him contemptible; a third was grave

and weighty in his behaviour, but the children were set against him;

and a fourth, instead of restraining the boys from play, played with

them. Four or five of the larger boys grew wicked, and the others

became “wilder and wilder, till all their religious impressions were

worn off.” The result of the whole was,—the establishment on Kingswood

Hill was now, at the end of three years, reduced to two masters, two

servants, and eleven children; but Wesley writes: “I believe all in the

house are, at length, of one mind; and trust God will bless us in the

latter end, more than in the beginning.”

Another trouble, awaiting Wesley, on his return from the north of

England, was the scandal occasioned by the sin of James Wheatley.

This unhappy man had been a Methodist itinerant preacher since the

year 1742. At the beginning of his public labours, he was diligent

and useful; but, while in Ireland, he unfortunately became acquainted

with certain Moravians of the antinomian creed, and practically, at

least, embraced their principles. Wesley says, that Wheatley was

never “_clear_ in the faith, and perhaps not sound. According to his

understanding was his preaching,—an unconnected rhapsody of unmeaning

words, like Sir John Suckling’s

‘Verses, smooth and soft as cream,

In which was neither depth nor stream.’”

Wesley asserts, that it was a reproach to the Methodist congregations,

that Wheatley became a most popular preacher. Yet so he did; and,

though several of the itinerants in Ireland complained both of his

doctrine and manner of preaching, it is a fact that, in the space of

a few months, he brought almost all the preachers in that kingdom to

think and to speak like himself.[150] Robert Swindells and others were

exalted above measure, and imagined that they, and they only, preached

Christ, and Christ’s gospel. Their brethren, who differed from them,

were despised, and were ignominiously branded with the cognomen of

“legal preachers,” and “legal wretches.” In this way, James Wheatley’s

preaching had been disastrous. Then again, as early as 1749, he had

become headstrong and troublesome. Charles Wesley writes: “1749, June

14.—I threw away some advice on an obstinate preacher, James Wheatley;

for I could make no impression on him, or in any degree bow his stiff

neck.” “He is gone to the north expressly contrary to my advice.

Whither will his wilfulness lead him at last?” Two years after this,

Wesley calls him “that wonderful self-deceiver and hypocrite.” Why? In

June, 1751, Richard Pearce, and Mrs. Silby, of Bradford, in Wiltshire,

gave Charles Wesley to understand, that Wheatley had been guilty of

indecent behaviour. Charles at once went to Bradford, and took down,

from the lips of seven females, their charges against Wheatley.

This document was read to Wheatley at Bristol; and, on June 25, the

two Wesleys brought him to Bearfield, face to face with two of his

principal accusers. He cavilled at a few circumstances, but allowed

that the substance of what was said was true. He was taken to Farley,

where five other women gave to Wesley’s wife the same statements which

they had made to Charles. Wesley persuaded Wheatley to retire for a

season from the itinerant work; but it was labour lost. He professed

to be penitent; but he extenuated what he was not able to deny, and as

constantly accused others as excused himself; saying, many had been

guilty of “_little imprudences_” as well as he. He pleaded guilty to

the charges brought against him; but justified himself, and basely

tried to implicate his brethren. To screen himself, he traduced all

the preachers; and, in doing this, told palpable untruths. Ten of the

preachers in the west of England were brought before him; and each, in

succession, demanded to know the sin with which Wheatley could charge

him. “The accuser,” says Charles Wesley, “was silent, which convinced

us of his wilful lying.” The result of the whole was his suspension,

which ended in expulsion,—the first act of the kind since Methodism had

been founded. The following paper was put into his hands.

“_June 25, 1751._

“Because you have wrought folly in Israel, grieved the Holy Spirit of

God, betrayed your own soul into temptation and sin, and the souls of

many others, whom you ought, even at the peril of your own life, to

have guarded against all sin; because you have given occasion to the

enemies of God, whenever they shall know these things, to blaspheme

the ways and truth of God:

“We can in nowise receive you as a fellow labourer, till we see clear

proofs of your real and deep repentance. Of this you have given us no

proof yet. You have not so much as named one single person, in all

England or Ireland, with whom you have behaved ill, except those we

knew before.

“The least and lowest proof of such repentance which we can receive

is this: that, till our next conference (which we hope will be in

October), you abstain both from preaching and from practising physic.

If you do not, we are clear; we cannot answer for the consequences.

“JOHN WESLEY,

CHARLES WESLEY.”

This was the first judicial sentence pronounced upon a culprit

Methodist preacher. For some weeks, Wheatley went from house to house,

justifying himself, and condemning Wesley and his brother for the

action they had taken. He then proceeded to Norwich, where he was

unknown. Reaching the gates, he gave the bridle to his horse, and was

taken to one of the public inns. Before the door he observed a soldier,

and, by the soldier, was introduced to a small company of serious

people, who were known in Norwich by the name of puritans. He began to

preach out of doors. Thousands, who had been notorious for all kinds

of profaneness and irreligion, ran to hear him. Nearly two thousand of

them were united together in Christian fellowship. The change in the

city was most marvellous. A temporary building was erected on Timber

Hill, in imitation of the one erected for Whitefield in Moorfields,

and was called the Tabernacle. Meanwhile, however, a Jacobite party,

commonly called the “Hell Fire Club,” a lawless fraternity who met at

the Blue Bell on Orford Hill,[151] in conjunction with the papists and

protestants of the city, began to oppose the growing reformation. The

windows of Wheatley’s Tabernacle were smashed in pieces, and the chapel

itself unroofed. Wheatley was stripped, and dragged to one of the

bridges for the purpose of being drowned, but was mercifully rescued by

the mayor. Horns were blown; and fireworks, dirt and stones were hurled

in all directions at his followers. Some were scorched with fire;

others wounded; and others had arms and legs violently broken. A plan

was laid to convey the preacher to a mud pit, ten or twelve feet deep,

and there to suffocate him. One day, the mob went in procession through

most of the streets of Norwich, with a mock burial of the preacher,

having upon his coffin the inscription—“Antichrist, Enthusiasm,

Imposture, Blasphemy, and Schismatic.” They paraded twice through

the Bell Yard, where the Hell Fire Club was kept; then walked three

times round a fire in the castle ditch; and then, with mock solemnity,

committed the coffin to the flames, and the preacher to the devil. Mrs.

Overton and her daughter were beaten, had their eyes plastered up with

clay, and their house filled with filthy water. Mr. Standen was left

speechless; and numbers more had to be put under the surgeon’s care. On

one occasion, the mob stuck a lamb upon a pole, and carried it through

the streets, blasphemously crying, “Behold the Lamb of God!” They

crowned a man with thorns, and scourged him, calling him by the holy

name of Jesus. They carried about a picture, alleging it was the Holy

Ghost, and cursed it as they went. Men, women, and children were maimed

without mercy. One poor creature, big with child, died of the kicks

and bruises she received; another young woman was dragged into the

street, and was treated by brute after brute in a manner too shocking

to relate, until she was carried home insensible, and with little

hopes of living.[152] Two letters, published in the _Gentleman’s

Magazine_ for 1752, and dated respectively, Norwich, February 19, and

March 22, state that, for several months, the city had been disturbed

and alarmed by the violent proceedings of an enraged populace, on

account of their taking offence “at some encouragement given by the

magistrates to Mr. Wheatley, a Welsh cobbler, lately turned Methodist

preacher.” “On the 12th of January he had three constables to guard

him; but the mob beat both him and them, and so covered them with mud

that they could hardly be recognised. They went to his Tabernacle,

broke the pulpit and windows, pulled down the seats, and untiled and

destroyed a great part of the edifice. The mayor and swordbearer read

the proclamation, to which the rioters responded, ‘Church and king!

down with the meetings!’” It was alleged that Wheatley, by the number

of his religious services, was the occasion of great numbers of both

men and women neglecting their occupations; and that, as a consequence,

the workhouse was filled, and the parishes burdened with helpless

children. Wheatley, it is said, came to the town without a groat in his

pocket, but was now receiving from ten to twelve guineas every week.

He had been a noted bad liver; but now was well dressed, in a grey

coat and black under habit, like a clergyman. His _dear hearers_, who

regarded him as a _holy inspired_ preacher, were roughly treated; for

the populace, when meeting them, called out, “Bah! bah!” in reference

to their being his own _dear lambs_; and, at a recent election of a

coroner, had trundled some of them down the Castle Hill, and afterwards

pumped on one, and wounded several others.

This was rough treatment; but Wheatley had been well schooled, and,

in the midst of all, continued firm. His courage and his success

ultimately turned the tide in his favour; and, in April, 1752, steps

were taken to erect for him one of the largest chapels in the city.

For a time, this was supplied by him, and Cudworth, and Robinson,

afterwards the noted Socinian minister at Cambridge.

Space forbids our following the history of James Wheatley further;

except to say, that, in 1754, he again disgraced himself; and the

judge of the ecclesiastical court at Norwich, before whom his case

was tried, on February 4, 1756, declared him to be “a lewd, debauched,

incontinent, and adulterous person; and stated, he had committed

the crimes of adultery, fornication, and incontinence, to the great

scandal of good men, and the pernicious example of others; and, that

he (the judge) decreed, that the said Wheatley be enjoined a public

penance, to be performed in a linen cloth, with a paper pinned to his

breast, denoting his crime; and, that he further pay the costs of his

prosecution.”[153]

For a time, poor Wheatley was obliged to leave the kingdom. He then

returned to Norwich, and preached to his “dear lambs” for several

years, after which he lost his voice, and went to Bristol, where he was

suddenly seized, in a barber’s shop, with a violent fit of coughing,

and expired. John Pawson, who knew him, and from whose manuscript

letters this is taken, adds: “He was one of the greatest mysteries that

ever bore human shape. Such a degree of hypocrisy hardly ever lodged in

a human heart before.”

The detected immorality of James Wheatley, and his accusation of other

preachers, led Wesley and his brother to determine upon instituting a

more strict inquiry into the life, and behaviour of the preachers in

connection with them.

It was now twelve years since Methodism was fairly founded. During that

period, eighty-five itinerants had, more or less, preached and acted

under Wesley’s guidance. Of these, one (Wheatley) had been expelled;

six, Thomas Beard, Enoch Williams, Samuel Hitchens, Thomas Hitchens,

John Jane, and Henry Millard, had died in their Master’s work; ten,

for various reasons, had retired; and sixty-eight were still employed,

namely:—

Cornlieus Bastable

William Biggs

John Bennet

Benjamin Beanland

William Crouch

Jonathan Catlow

Alexander Coates

Joseph Cownley

William Darney

John Downes

Edward Dunstan

John Edwards

John Fisher

William Fugill

Nicholas Gilbert

Paul Greenwood

John Haughton

Thomas Hardwick

William Holmes

John Haime

William Hitchens

Christopher Hopper

Herbert Jenkins

Joseph Jones

Samuel Jones

John Jones

Thomas Kead

Samuel Larwood

Henry Lloyd

Thomas Lee

Thomas Maxfield

John Maddern

Richard Moss

James Morris

Jonathan Maskew

John Morley

Samuel Megget

Thomas Mitchell

James Morgan

James Massiott

John Nelson

James Oddie

William Prior

John Pearce

Edward Perronet

Charles Perronet

Jacob Rowell

Thomas Richards

Jonathan Reeves

William Roberts

William Shent

Charles Skelton

Robert Swindells

Thomas Seacombe

John Trembath

David Tratham

Joseph Tucker

William Tucker

John Turner

Thomas Tobias

Thomas Westall

Thomas Walsh

Thomas Williams

Francis Walker

Eleazer Webster

John Whitford

Richd. Williamson

James Wild

Of this number, two were expelled, viz. Thomas Williams in 1755, and

William Fugill in 1768; and forty-one left the itinerancy; thus leaving

only twenty-five of the sixty-eight preachers employed in 1751, who

died in the itinerant work. Several of those who left became clergymen

of the Church of England, some Dissenting ministers, and some, on

account of failing health or for domestic reasons, entered into

business, but lived and died as local preachers. There is, however,

another fact too notable to be omitted, namely, that, of the forty-one

preachers who relinquished the itinerancy, six resigned in 1751, six in

1752, and twelve within four years after that.[154] This was a serious

sifting; but the searching examinations of 1751, and the sacramental

disturbances of the next five years, account for it.

As already stated, the case of James Wheatley led the Wesleys to

resolve upon a thorough inquiry into the character and creed of all

their preachers. The office fell upon Charles; and, for that purpose,

he started for Leeds on June 28. He preached and visited all the

societies on the way. At Worcester, the mob, with faces blacked, some

without shirts, and all in rags, began to curse and swear, and sing

lewd songs, and throw dust and dirt over both the preacher and his

congregation, till they were covered from head to foot, and almost

blinded.

The conference, for inquiry, was opened at Leeds, on September 11. It

consisted of about a dozen preachers and three clergymen, and was begun

by singing a hymn, which Charles Wesley seems to have composed for the

occasion, and a few stanzas of which are here subjoined.

“Arise, Thou jealous God, arise,

Thy sifting power exert,

Look through us with Thy flaming eyes,

And search out every heart.

Our inmost souls Thy Spirit knows,

And let Him now display

Whom Thou hast for Thy glory chose,

And purge the rest away.

The apostles false far off remove,

Thy faithful labourers own,

And give us each himself to prove,

And know as he is known.

Do _I_ presume to preach Thy word

By Thee uncalled, unsent?

Am _I_ the servant of the Lord,

Or Satan’s instrument?

I once _unfeignedly believed_

Myself sent forth by Thee;

But have I _kept_ the grace received,

In simple poverty?”

Twelve verses of this searching hymn were sung; its author, the

president, prayed; and then stated his views, freely and fully,

concerning the qualifications, work, and trials of Methodist preachers.

No immediate action was taken, except that poor William Darney, who had

just published his “Collection of Hymns, in four parts,” was refused

admittance, and was told, that unless he abstained, in future, “from

railing, begging, and printing nonsense,” he should be expelled.

The conference lasted but a day, and seems to have passed but one

resolution. “We agreed,” writes Charles Wesley, “to postpone opinions

till the next general conference, and parted friends.”[155]

Charles Wesley, however, accomplished the work assigned him by his

brother, more by private inquiry than by public conference. Robert

Swindells he found inclined to Calvinism, but teachable; David Tratham

was a confirmed predestinarian;[156] and John Bennet’s theological

principles were doubted.

Wesley’s suspicions and anxieties were, at this period, quite equal

to his brother’s. He had heard that Charles Skelton, and J. C.

(? Joseph Cownley) “frequently and bitterly railed against the Church”;

he declared, that “idleness had eaten out the heart of half their

preachers, particularly those in Ireland”; and he requested his brother

to give them their choice, “Either follow your trade, or resolve,

before God, to spend the same hours in reading, etc., which you used

to spend in working.” He counselled, that the young preachers should

not be checked without strong necessity; and said, that, in the process

of sifting, he should prefer grace before gifts. They must deal, not

only with disorderly walkers, but with triflers, the effeminate, and

busybodies. In a letter to a friend, dated August 21, he wrote: “I see

plainly the spirit of Ham, if not of Corah, has fully possessed several

of our preachers. So much the more freely and firmly do I acquiesce in

the determination of my brother, ‘that it is far better for us to have

ten, or six preachers, who are alive to God, sound in the faith, and of

one heart with us and with one another, than fifty of whom we have no

such assurance.’”

Towards the end of the year, Wesley and his brother conferred with

their confidential adviser, the Rev. Vincent Perronet, and then drew up

and signed the following agreement.

“With regard to the preachers, we agree—

“1. That none shall be permitted to preach in any of our societies,

till he be examined, both as to grace and gifts; at least, by the

assistant, who, sending word to us, may, by our answer, admit him a

_local_ preacher.

“2. That such preacher be not immediately taken from his trade, but be

exhorted to follow it with all diligence.

“3. That no person shall be received as a travelling preacher, or

be taken from his trade, by either of us alone, but by both of us

conjointly, giving him a note under both our hands.

“4. That neither of us will re-admit a travelling preacher laid aside,

without the consent of the other.

“5. That, if we should ever disagree in our judgment, we will refer

the matter to Mr. Perronet.

“6. That we will entirely be patterns of all we expect from every

preacher; particularly of zeal, diligence, and punctuality in the

work; by constantly preaching and meeting the society; by visiting

yearly Ireland, Cornwall, and the north; and, in general, by

superintending the whole work, and every branch of it, with all the

strength that God shall give us. We agree to the above written, till

this day next year, in the presence of Mr. Perronet.

“JOHN WESLEY,

CHARLES WESLEY.”[157]

This was a momentous epoch in Methodist history. The Wesleys were

well aware, that pulpits mould pews. “Like priest, like people,” is a

proverb not older than it is true. Perhaps, we cannot do better than

conclude the matter with an extract from a long letter, which Wesley

wrote to a friend, just before the year was ended.

“LONDON, _December 20, 1751_.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,—I think the right method of preaching is this. At our

first beginning to preach at any place, after a general declaration

of the love of God to sinners, and His willingness that they should

be saved, to preach the law, in the strongest, the closest, the most

searching manner possible.

“After more and more persons are convinced of sin, we may mix more and

more of the gospel, in order to beget faith, to raise into spiritual

life those whom the law hath slain. I would not advise to preach the

law without the gospel, any more than the gospel without the law.

Undoubtedly, both should be preached in their turns; yea, both at

once, or both in one. All the conditional promises are instances of

this. They are law and gospel mixed together.

“In this manner, not only my brother and I, but Mr. Maxfield, Nelson,

James Jones, Westall, and Reeves, all preached at the beginning. By

this preaching, it pleased God to work those mighty effects in London,

Bristol, Kingswood, Yorkshire, and Newcastle. By means of this,

twenty-nine persons received remission of sins, in one day, at Bristol

only; most of them, while I was opening and enforcing our Lord’s

sermon on the mount. In this manner, John Downes, John Bennet, John

Haughton, and all the other Methodists, preached, till James Wheatley

came among them. The change he has introduced has done great harm to

David Tratham, Thomas Webb, Robert Swindells, and John Maddern; all of

whom are but shadows of what they were. It has likewise done great

harm to hearers as well as preachers, diffusing among them a prejudice

against the scriptural, Methodist manner of preaching Christ, so that

they can no longer hear the plain old truth, with profit or pleasure,

nay hardly with patience. The ‘gospel preachers,’ so called, corrupt

their hearers, and they vitiate their taste. They feed them with

sweetmeats, till the genuine wine of the kingdom seems quite insipid

to them. They give them cordial upon cordial, which make them all

life and spirit for the present; but, meantime, their appetite is

destroyed, so that they can neither retain nor digest the pure milk of

the word.

“According to the constant observations I have made, in all parts

both of England and Ireland, preachers of this kind spread death, not

life, among their hearers. This was the case when I went last into

the north. For some time before my coming, John Downes had scarce

been able to preach at all; the three others, in the round, were such

as style themselves ‘gospel preachers.’ When I came to review the

societies, with great expectation of finding a vast increase, I found

most of them lessened by one third. One was entirely broken up. That

of Newcastle was less by a hundred members than when I visited it

before; and, of those that remained, the far greater number, in every

place, were cold, weary, heartless, and dead. Such were the blessed

effects of _this gospel_-preaching! of this new method of _preaching

Christ_.

“On the other hand, when, in my return, I took an account of the

societies in Yorkshire, chiefly under the care of John Nelson, one of

the _old_ way, I found them all alive, strong, and vigorous of soul,

believing, loving, and praising God their Saviour; and increased

in number from eighteen or nineteen hundred, to upwards of three

thousand. These had been continually fed with wholesome food. From

the beginning they had been taught both the law and the gospel. ‘God

loves _you_; therefore love and obey _Him_. Christ died for _you_;

therefore die to sin. Christ is risen; therefore rise in the image of

God. Christ liveth evermore; therefore live to God, till you live with

Him in glory.’

“So _we_ preached; and so _you_ believed. This is the scriptural

way, the _Methodist_ way, the true way. God grant we may never turn

therefrom, to the right hand or to the left.

“I am, my dear friend, your ever affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[158]

It has been already stated, that Whitefield embarked for America in the

month of August. Before sailing, he penned a letter, an extract from

which will be read with some surprise.

“BRISTOL, _March 22, 1751_.

“REVEREND AND VERY DEAR SIR,—Thanks be to God, that the time for

favouring the colony of Georgia seems to be come. Now is the season

for us to exert our utmost for the good of the poor Ethiopians. We

are told, that even they are soon to stretch out their hands to God;

and who knows but their being settled in Georgia may be overruled for

this great end? As for the lawfulness of keeping slaves, I have no

doubt, since I hear of some that were bought with Abraham’s money, and

some that were born in his house. I also cannot help thinking, that

some of those servants mentioned by the apostles in their epistles

were, or had been, slaves. It is plain, that the Gibeonites were

doomed to perpetual slavery; and, though liberty is a sweet thing to

such as are born free, yet to those who never knew the sweets of it,

slavery perhaps may not be so irksome. However this be, it is plain,

to a demonstration, that hot countries cannot be cultivated without

negroes. What a flourishing country might Georgia have been, had the

use of them been permitted years ago! How many white people have been

destroyed for want of them, and how many thousands of pounds spent to

no purpose at all? Though it is true, that they are brought in a wrong

way, from their own country, and it is a trade not to be approved of,

yet as it will be carried on whether we will or not, I should think

myself highly favoured if I could purchase a good number of them,

in order to make their lives comfortable, and lay a foundation for

breeding up their posterity in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

I had no hand in bringing them into Georgia, though my judgment was

for it, and I was strongly importuned thereto; yet, I would not have

a negro upon my plantation, till the use of them was publicly allowed

by the colony. Now this is done, let us diligently improve the present

opportunity for their instruction. It rejoiced my soul, to hear that

one of my poor negroes in Carolina was made a brother in Christ. How

know we but we may have many such instances in Georgia? I trust many

of them will be brought to Jesus, and this consideration, as to us,

swallows up all temporal inconveniences whatsoever.

“I am, etc.,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[159]

This is a strange production, especially when read in the present day;

but it was not unmeaning talk. Whitefield acted upon the principle

propounded, and, at the time of his decease, twenty years afterwards,

was the possessor of seventy-five slaves, in connection with his Orphan

House plantations in the Georgian settlements.[160] His intention was

good; but his warmest admirer will find it difficult to defend his

action. We shall, hereafter, become acquainted with Wesley’s views,

when the time arrives for noticing his “Thoughts upon Slavery”; suffice

it to remark here, that they were in perfect accordance with his well

known designation of the slave trade, in 1772,—“an execrable sum of all

villanies.”

On August 19, Wesley and his wife set out for Cornwall. At Tiverton, he

went to hear a sermon preached at the old church, before the trustees

of the school; but “such insufferable noise and confusion he never

saw before in a place of worship; no, not even in a Jewish synagogue.

The clergy set the example, laughing and talking during great part

both of the prayers and sermon.” The next day, he himself preached,

when a mob, from Blundell’s school, came with horns, drums, and fifes,

and created all the disturbance in their power. They seized a poor

chimney sweeper (though no Maccabee, as the Methodists in Tiverton were

called), carried him away in triumph, and half murdered him before he

could escape from their cruel clutches. A short time after this, the

mayor of Tiverton asked a gentleman whether it was not right, that the

Methodists should be banished from the town. The gentleman recommended

his worship to follow the counsel of Gamaliel to the Jews; upon which

the furious functionary observed, that there was no need of any new

religion in Tiverton. “There is,” said he, “the old church and the new

church; that is one religion. Then there is parson K——’s at the Pitt

meeting, and parson W——’s in Peter Street, and old parson T——’s at the

meeting in Newport Street,—four ways of going to heaven already; enough

in conscience; and if the people won’t go to heaven by one or other of

these ways, by —— they shan’t go to heaven at all herefrom, while I am

mayor of Tiverton.”[161]

Leaving the religious town of Tiverton, Wesley and his wife went to

Taunton, where a mob of “boys and gentlemen” made so much noise,

that he was obliged to desist from preaching in the street, and to

finish his discourse in the meeting room; on issuing from which his

congregation were furiously pelted with all sorts of missiles.

After spending a happy month in Cornwall, and preaching all the way to

and fro, he got back to London on October 21, where, with the exception

of a short excursion to Canterbury, he continued until the year was

ended.

During this brief breathing time, Wesley began his second letter to

Lavington, bishop of Exeter. “Heavy work,” says he, “such as I should

never choose; but sometimes it must be done. Well might the ancient

say, ‘God made practical divinity necessary, the devil controversial.’

But it is necessary: we must resist the devil, or he will not flee from

us.”

He likewise entered into correspondence with his disabled itinerant,

John Downes, whose health was failing, and who found it necessary to

seek temporary retirement. He writes:—

“Some of the preachers do not adorn the gospel; therefore, we have

been constrained to lay some of them aside; and some others have

departed of themselves. Let us that remain be doubly in earnest.

I entreat you, tell me without reserve, what you think of Charles

Skelton. Is his heart with us, or is it not? How are you employed?

from five in the morning till nine at night? For I suppose you want

eight hours’ sleep. What becomes of logic and Latin? Is your soul

alive and more athirst for God? You must carefully guard against any

irregularity, either as to food, sleep, or labour. Your water should

be neither quite warm, for fear of relaxing the tone of your stomach,

nor quite cold. Of all flesh, mutton is the best for you; of all

vegetables, turnips, potatoes, and apples, if you can bear them. I

think it is ill husbandry for you to work with your hands, in order to

get money; because you may be better employed. But, if you will work,

come and superintend my printing. I will give you £40 for the first

year; afterwards, if need be, I will increase your salary; and still

you may preach as often as you can preach. However, come, whether you

print, or preach, or not.”[162]

John Downes was a remarkable man. Wesley, in his Journal, gives several

instances of his mathematical and mechanical talent, and considered him

“by nature full as great a genius as Sir Isaac Newton.” He accepted

Wesley’s proposal, and, at the age of fifty-two, after a long conflict

with sickness, pain, and poverty, died a triumphant death in 1774.

During the year 1751, Wesley was more than usually occupied. First of

all, there was his hasty and unhappy marriage. This was followed by

the case of Wheatley. Then, there was the not unneeded sifting of his

preachers, both itinerant and local. And added to all this, there was

the preparation for his “Christian Library”; eleven volumes of which

were published in 1751. But, according to our wont, we conclude the

chapter with a complete list of the year’s publications.

1. “Thoughts upon Infant Baptism. Extracted from a late writer.”

12mo, 21 pages. This is a summary of the arguments commonly used to

vindicate the practice of baptizing children. Those who have doubts

on the subject would do well to read Wesley’s tract. We know of no

publication, that, in so small a compass, states the arguments so

clearly and so conclusively.