“DEAR SIR,—In my last journey into the north, all my patience was

put to the proof again and again, and all my endeavours to please;

yet without success. In my present journey, I leap, as broke from

chains. I am content with whatever entertainment I meet with, and my

companions are always in good humour, ‘because they are with me,’ This

must be the spirit of all who take journeys with me. If a dinner ill

dressed, a hard bed, a poor room, a shower of rain, or a dirty road,

will put them out of humour, it lays a burden upon me, greater than

all the rest put together. By the grace of God, I never fret; I repine

at nothing; I am discontented with nothing. And to have persons at my

ear, fretting and murmuring at everything, is like tearing the flesh

off my bones. I see God sitting upon His throne, and ruling all things

well. Peace be with you all.

“I am, etc.

“JOHN WESLEY.”[240]

At the end of October, he returned to London, and, on the first Sunday

after his arrival, read prayers, preached, and gave the sacrament, at

Snow’s Fields, in the morning; preached and gave the sacrament at noon

in West Street chapel; met the leaders at three; buried a corpse at

four; preached at five; and afterwards met the society, and concluded

the day with a general lovefeast.

Whitefield had returned from America in the month of May, and wrote:

“The poor despised Methodists are as lively as ever; and, in several

churches, the gospel is now preached with power. Many, in Oxford, are

awakened to a knowledge of the truth, and I have heard almost every

week of some fresh minister or another that seems determined to know

nothing but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. The greatest venom is spit

out against Mr. Romaine, who, having been reputed a great scholar, is

now looked upon and treated as a great fool.”[241]

On November 5, after a long separation, Wesley and Whitefield met in

London. “Disputings,” writes the former, “are now no more: we love

one another, and join hand in hand to promote the cause of our common

Master.” The remainder of the year was spent in the metropolis and its

immediate vicinity.

At this period, John Fletcher, afterwards vicar of Madeley, was a

young man, twenty-six years of age, and officiated as private tutor

to the two sons of Thomas Hill, Esq., at Tern Hall, in Shropshire. He

had recently been converted, principally by the instrumentality of

the Methodists, and had already formed a warm attachment to Wesley,

which continued to increase until his death, in 1785. One of his first

letters to the great Methodistic leader, perhaps the very first,

was dated “London, November 29, 1755,” and is, in all respects, a

remarkable production. He expresses a conviction that the end of the

world is near at hand, and adduces elaborated reasons for this opinion.

He confesses his belief in the second coming of our Saviour; in His

making war among His enemies; and in His personal reign on earth for

a thousand years. Fletcher’s millenarian letter is far too long to be

inserted here; it may be read in the _Methodist Magazine_ for 1793; and

is of some importance, as showing, that the millenarian theory, which

is now attracting so much attention, found considerable favour among

some of the most distinguished of the first Methodists. We shall have

to recur to this important subject at a future period.

Before leaving the year 1755, it only remains to review Wesley’s

publications.

At the commencement of the year, an anonymous octavo pamphlet, of

32 pages, was published, entitled “Queries humbly proposed to the

Right Reverend and Right Honourable Count Zinzendorf.” James Hutton,

who was Zinzendorf’s chief disciple, believed this to be the work of

Wesley;[242] and, after a careful examination, we are bound to say,

that we concur in this belief;[243] and as the pamphlet is extremely

rare and also curious, a brief analysis of its contents may not be

unacceptable. The Queries are arranged under ten divisions, and the

writer hopes the count will give “speedy, plain, positive, categorical

answers.” He also states, that, in these Queries, he has “summed up,

as briefly as possible, the most material parts of the charges against

the Moravians.” Viewed in such a light, the pamphlet is of great

importance. The following are specimens.

“I. With regard to yourself and your community. 1. Do you permit the

Brethren to style you ‘The angel of the church of Philadelphia’? 2.

Do not they almost implicitly believe your assertions, and obey your

directions? 3. Do not you think yourself, as a teacher, equal to any

of the apostles? 4. Do not you believe your doctrinal writings are of

equal authority with the Bible? 5. Do not you judge your church to be

the only true church under heaven; and the members of it the only true

Christians on earth? 6. Are the Brethren the 144,000 mentioned in the

Revelation? 7. Is it honest to term yourselves the Moravian church,

when you know you are not the Moravian church? 8. Do you yourself

expect to be judged at the last day? 9. Do you believe a thousand

souls of the wicked will be saved in that day at your intercession?

“II. With respect to your doctrines concerning the Trinity. Have you

spoken these words, or anything to the same effect, ‘Praying to God

the Father is not a whit better than praying to a wooden or stone God?

The preachers of God the Father are Satan’s professors? The Father and

the Holy Ghost minister to Christ in all things? The Holy Ghost is the

wife of God, the mother of Christ, and of the church?’

“III. With regard to the Son of God. Do you affirm, that He sometimes

gave answers to people that are not fit to be examined according to

logic; and, that He had nothing extraordinary in His turn of mind or

gifts?

“IV. With regard to the apostles and Scriptures. Do you affirm, that

the apostles, except St. Paul and John, did not know so much of the

blood theology as the Brethren? Were these your words, ‘I have ever,

and still do protest, that the first Christians cannot properly be

called a church, being no more than a troop of legalists’? Did you

affirm, that there are more than six hundred blunders in the four

gospels? Have you left out the whole epistle of St. James in your

edition of the New Testament? Are there any persons among you who

boast that they never read the Bible in their lives? Have you used it

as a term of reproach, to have ‘heads full of _Biblish_ lumber’? Did

any of the Brethren say, ‘The Bible is dung, fit only to be spit upon’?

“V. With regard to the moral law of God. Are these your own words,

‘There is but one duty, which is that of believing’? ‘Our method is

to preach no commandment but that of believing’? Is it true that, at

some of the merry meetings of the Brethren, there was an uproar as if

a madhouse had broken loose? that the Brethren threw one another on

the floor, and struggled, with many gross indecencies? Is it true,

that your son vindicated all this? And that you yourself said, it was

blasphemy to censure it?

“VI. With regard to idolatry and superstition. Have you not hymns

directed to angels, and the Virgin Mary? Has not a large image of our

Saviour been placed in the midst of the Brethren met together? Has not

incense been burnt for you?

“VII. With regard to your manner of conversation. Are not you of a

close, dark, reserved temper and behaviour? Is not the spirit of

secrecy the spirit of your community? Do not you, in many cases, use

cunning, guile, dissimulation? Was not Mr. Gambold guilty of a calm,

deliberate lie, in publicly affirming, you had not so much as seen

those hymns, some of which you had not only seen but composed?

“VIII. With regard to moral honesty. Have you not distressed, if not

totally ruined, numerous families?

“IX. With regard to your manner of answering for yourselves. Have

you ordered the Brethren to give no answer to any accusation, but

the general one, ‘It’s all a lie’? Do you still deem those who blame

your hymns worthy of having their tongues plucked out, or their hands

chopped off?”

The above are fair specimens of all the Queries proposed by the writer

of this curious pamphlet.[244] The conclusion is as follows.

“But I have done. I have proposed the Queries which you desired, and

have endeavoured therein to come to the point. Permit me now to remind

your lordship of the assurance given to the public, ‘As soon as these

Queries are finished, the Moravians, who expect them with earnest

longing, will lose no time in answering them.’ If your lordship

is inwardly and deeply convinced, that the bulk of the preceding

objections are just, and if you are determined to amend whatsoever is

capable of amendment, then silence may be a sufficient answer. I am,

my lord, your lordship’s real well wisher, and humble servant.”

What gave birth to this publication? Was Wesley justified in writing

it? The following facts will help to answer these questions.

The reader has already seen that the eccentricities of the Moravian

brotherhood had occasioned a large amount of public scandal. This,

unfortunately, increased, rather than diminished; and, hence, on the

last day of the year 1754, James Hutton published an advertisement in

the _London Daily Advertiser_, calling for “Queries” to be proposed in

reference to the charges publicly circulated against the Brethren; and

indicating that answers to the Queries would be furnished.[245]

What was the result? Seven days after the appearance of Hutton’s

advertisement, Wesley’s Queries were published;[246] but we can hardly

say that they were answered. It is true, that an octavo volume was

issued soon after; but the jejuneness, irrelevance, and confusion of

the answers to the Queries may be guessed from the cumbrous title of

the book, which was as follows: “An Exposition, or True State of the

Matters objected to in _England_ to the people known by the name of

_Unitas Fratrum_: in which _facts_ are related as they are; the true

_readings_ and sense of _books_, said to be his, (which have been laid

to his charge sometimes without sufficient proof that they were so, and

been moreover perverted and curtailed) are restored; _principles_ are

laid down as they ought, fairly; the _practice_, as it has been, is at

present, and is intended for the future, is owned. By the Ordinary of

the Brethren. The notes and additions by the editor,”—that is, by Count

Zinzendorf and James Hutton.

Passing to other publications. It was in 1755, that Wesley completed

his “Christian Library,” by the issue of ten additional 12mo volumes,

containing more than 3000 printed pages. One of these was in the form

of an index to the whole of the fifty volumes published; the others

consisted of extracts from the writings of Reynolds, South, Flavel,

Annesley, Nelson, Beveridge, Howe, and other distinguished authors.

Another of Wesley’s publications, in 1755, arose out of one of the

most fearful events of modern times. On November 1, occurred the

great earthquake at Lisbon, a city containing 36,000 houses, 350,000

inhabitants, a cathedral, forty parish churches, as many monasteries,

and a royal palace. In six minutes, the greatest part of the city was

destroyed, and not less than 60,000 persons met with an untimely death.

The same earthquake was severely felt in almost the whole of Europe.

In 1754, Whitefield visited Lisbon, on his way to America, and spent

nearly a month in that ill fated city. Early in 1755, he published

a 12mo pamphlet of 29 pages, giving an account of what he witnessed,

little thinking that the scene of so much sin would soon become

the graveyard of tens of thousands of its inhabitants. He found

crucifixes, and images of the Virgin, and of other real or reputed

saints, in almost every street, lamps hanging before them, and the

people rendering them obeisance as they passed. Processions of priests

and friars, with lighted wax tapers, were almost of daily occurrence.

One of these was led by three popish dignitaries in scarlet clothes,

followed by two little boys with wings fixed on their shoulders to

make them resemble angels. Then came several images of St. Francis;

then an image of our Saviour, with long black hair, and dressed in a

purple gown; and then the virgin mother, to whom St. Francis rendered

homage. After this, followed a mitred cardinal gaudily attired; a

gorgeous friar under a splendid canopy; and then a long train of

fat Franciscans. Another procession consisted of nearly two hundred

penitents, all clothed in white, their faces veiled, their feet bare,

and chains fastened to their ankles; some having on their backs great

stones; others carrying in their hands dead men’s bones and skulls;

some bearing upon their shoulders a heavy cross; and most lashing

themselves with cords, or beating themselves with iron rods. In one

of the churches, Whitefield found a solid silver altar of several

yards circumference, and about twelve steps high. In another, he met

with a golden altar, of nearly the same dimensions, its base studded

with precious stones, each step lit up with large lighted silver

candlesticks, and the top adorned with silver images of angels. In a

large church, belonging to the convent of St. De Beato, he mingled with

many thousands in witnessing what was meant to be a representation

of the crucifixion of the Son of God. Upon a high scaffold were

three full-sized figures of the blessed Saviour and of the crucified

malefactors. At a little distance, was the holy Virgin, in long ruffles

and widow’s weeds, her face veiled with purple silk, and her head

encircled with a crown of glory. At the foot of the Saviour’s cross,

lay, in a mournful posture, a living man, dressed in woman’s clothes,

personating Mary Magdalene; while near at hand was a younger man,

arrayed in a bob-wig and a green silk vesture, representing the apostle

John. On each side, stood two sentinels in buff, with formidable

caps and beards; and, directly in front, a personation of the Roman

centurion, with a large target in his hand. From behind the purple

hangings came twenty purple-vested boys, all wearing golden caps, and

adorned with wings, and each one bearing a lighted taper in his hand.

Opposite to the stage, a black friar, mounted in a pulpit, preached a

sort of fifteen minutes’ sermon. Then came four long-bearded men, two

of them carrying a ladder, and the other two, as the representatives

of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathæa, bearing large gilt dishes filled

with spices. Amid great ceremony, the body of the Saviour was taken

down; Mary Magdalene wrapped the feet in her widespread handkerchief;

the beloved disciple clasped the corpse to his loving heart; shrouded

in linen, it was carried round the churchyard in grand procession;

and then, followed by the Virgin, Mary Magdalene, and St. John, and

by a whole troop of friars, bearing wax tapers in their hands, was

conducted to an open sepulchre, and buried. Thus ended the Good

Friday’s superstitious tragedy in the far famed Lisbon. A year and a

half afterwards, Lisbon was a heap of ruins.

Under the date of November 26, Wesley says: “Being much importuned

thereto, I wrote ‘Serious Thoughts on the Earthquake at Lisbon;’

directed, not as I designed at first, to the small vulgar, but the

great; to the learned, rich, and honourable heathens, commonly called

Christians.”

This was published in an octavo pamphlet of 34 pages; and, within

a month, passed through two editions. Perhaps none of Wesley’s

publications contain so much fiery eloquence as this. The reader must

peruse it for himself.

Another of Wesley’s publications, in 1755, though small, was

important—“Catholic Spirit. A Sermon on 2 Kings x. 15.” 12mo, 31 pages.

It contains the principles of an evangelical alliance, namely, belief

in the Holy Trinity in Unity, love to God and man, and the practice of

good works. Wherever he found a man answering to this description, he

was ready to recognise a Christian and a brother. He would not urge

him to entertain his opinions, or to embrace his modes of worship. The

presbyterian, the independent, the baptist, and even the quaker, had

as much right to their opinions and preferences as he had to his. All

he asked was this, If thine heart be as my heart, in the three great

points already named, give me thine hand. In this respect, as in many

others, Wesley was far in advance of the age in which he lived; and,

more than a hundred years ago, was quite prepared for the Evangelical

Alliance that has since been organised.

Wesley’s principal publication, in 1755, was his “Explanatory Notes on

the New Testament” (with a portrait), quarto, 762 pages.

Concerning the portrait, Wesley himself gives the following

information, in his account of the death of John Downes, one of his

untaught itinerants. “In 1744, while I was shaving, John Downes was

whittling the top of a stick; I asked, ‘What are you doing?’ He

answered, ‘I am taking your face, which I intend to engrave on a

copper plate.’ Accordingly, without any instruction, he first made

himself tools, and then engraved the plate. The second picture which

he engraved was that which was prefixed to the ‘Notes on the New

Testament.’ Such another instance, I suppose, not all England, or

perhaps Europe, can produce.”[247]

We believe this was the first instance in which Wesley’s portrait was

prefixed to any of his works. John Hampson pronounced it one of the

best that he had seen.[248]

In his preface, Wesley tells the reader that, for many years, he had

contemplated such a work as this; and that the Notes are written

“chiefly for plain, unlettered men, who understand only their mother

tongue, and yet reverence and love the word of God, and have a desire

to save their souls.”

In reference to his new translation of the text, he remarks that he

has never altered the authorised version for altering’s sake; but only

where, first, the sense was made better, stronger, clearer, or more

consistent with the context; and, secondly, where, the sense being

equally good, the phrase was better or nearer the original.

He made the notes as short as possible, that the comment might not

obscure or swallow up the text. Many of them were translations from

Bengelius’s “Gnomon Novi Testamenti;” many more were abridgments from

the same learned and invaluable work. He also acknowledges himself

largely indebted to the writings of Dr. Heylin, Dr. Guyse, and Dr.

Doddridge.

A second edition of Wesley’s Notes was published in 1757. In 1759, he

and his brother carefully compared the translation with the original,

and corrected and enlarged the Notes for a new edition, which was

issued in 1760.[249]

It is a fact worth mentioning, that, before Wesley’s Notes were put to

press, he sent the manuscript to his old friend, the Rev. James Hervey,

at that time one of the most popular writers of the day, and received

the following answer.

“WESTON, _June 29, 1754_.

“DEAR SIR,—I have read your Notes, and have returned them, with such

observations as occur to my mind. I think, in general, you are too

sparing of your remarks and improvements. Many expositions are too

corpulent, yours are rather too lean. May the good hand of the Lord be

with them and their author.”[250]

As a set off to this, Dr. Adam Clarke observes: “Though short, the

notes are always judicious, accurate, spiritual, terse, and impressive;

and possess the happy and rare property of leading the reader

immediately to God and his own heart.”[251]

1756.

[Sidenote: 1756 Age 53]

Whitefield began the year 1756 with quinsy. A physician prescribed a

perpetual blister; but Whitefield says, he found that a better remedy

was perpetual preaching.[252] In February, he commenced preaching in

a Dissenting chapel, in Long Acre. The bishop of the diocese sent him

a prohibition.[253] Whitefield persisted. A mob, belonging to the

bishop’s vestry, assembled, with “bells, drums, clappers, marrow bones,

and cleavers,” and made the most hideous noises, to hinder Whitefield

being heard. The chapel windows were smashed with stones, levelled at

Whitefield in the pulpit. Anonymous letters were sent to him, full of

the most fearful threats. One of these was forwarded to the government;

who, at once, offered a reward and his majesty’s pardon to any one who

would detect the writer. This, together with steps taken to bring such

an ecclesiastical outrage into a court of law, stopped the evil.

The annoyances at Long Acre led Whitefield to commence the erection of

Tottenham Court chapel. The sabbath after he took possession of the

ground, he obtained nearly £600 towards the expense of building. It

was begun in May, and opened in November, 1756, and was called, by a

neighbouring doctor, “Whitefield’s Soul Trap.”[254]

During the present year, an octavo volume, of 229 pages, was published,

with the title, “The History of Modern Enthusiasm, from the Reformation

to the present Times.” A long list of subscribers’ names is given,

including dukes, earls, lords, knights, members of parliament,

bishops, deans, prebends, fellows of colleges, and rectors, vicars, and

curates without number. In the preface, it is alleged that, “though

Methodism is now almost quite extinct, yet several of its direful

consequences still remain,—as, that sin is _no sin_ in the elect;

that faith can never be finally lost; and that _once_ a saint, _for

ever_ a saint. The most zealous of the party now, in a great measure,

wallow in lust and sensuality, and never stick at anything, be it

ever so heinous.” The Moravians are said to be, “in principle and

practice, a scandal to Christianity. Inward experiences, dispensations,

manifestations, discoveries, improvements, pledges, privileges, and

prerogatives; out-goings, in-goings, and returns,—all this glorious

apparatus had ended in fulfilling the lusts of the flesh!” Whitefield

is accused of reviving antinomianism, of vain glory and boasting,

of self conceit, self applause, and self sufficiency, of Luciferian

pride, and of intolerably profaning Scripture. Wesley is equally

abused. “The petty exhorters” are said to “ramble from place to place,

venting crude, nonsensical, heretical, and blasphemous opinions,

which are swallowed by the gaping multitude.” “Most of their first

admirers and followers were perfectly bewildered, and, having deserted

both Wesley and Whitefield, had turned Moravians, or libertines, or

deists, or papists, or quakers.” The itinerant preachers and exhorters

were “mechanics and illiterate vagrants, pretending to expound by

inspiration, and fathering all their crude conceptions on the dictates

of the Holy Spirit.”

These are mild specimens of the rabid production of the Rev. Theophilus

Evans, vicar of St. David’s, Brecon. Is it necessary to apologise for

the reproduction of such mendacious scurrility? We think not; for,

without this, the reader cannot form an adequate conception of the

gross abuse poured upon Wesley and his friends, and of the terrific

difficulties which the first Methodists had to meet.

Another attack, of a different kind, must be mentioned: “The Use and

Extent of Reason in Matters of Religion. A Sermon preached before the

University of Oxford, at St. Mary’s, June 8, 1756. By Thomas Griffith,

M.A., Fellow of Pembroke College. Published at the request of the

Vice-Chancellor and Heads of Houses. Oxford, 1756.” 8vo, 25 pages. Of

course, Mr. Griffith eschews Mr. Evans’s vulgarities, and it is fair to

add, that the Methodists are hardly _named_; but it is also undeniable,

that it was against them that he was chiefly preaching.

Wesley began the new year by writing his “Address to the Clergy,”

which will be noticed hereafter. He was, also, not forgetful of his

own itinerants. Joseph Cownley had had a fever in 1755, which had left

a permanent pain in his head, and from which he suffered until his

death, thirty-seven years afterwards. After consulting the principal

physicians in Ireland, he consulted Wesley, who wrote thus.

“LONDON, _January 10, 1756_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—I have no objection to anything but the blister. If

it does good, well. But if I had been at Cork, all the physicians in

Ireland should not have put it upon your head. Remember poor Bishop

Pearson. An apothecary, to cure a pain in his head, covered it with a

large blister. In an hour, he cried out, ‘O my head, my head!’ and was

a fool ever after, to the day of his death. I believe cooling things

(if anything under heaven), would remove that violent irritation of

your nerves, which probably occasions the pain. Moderate riding may

be of use; I believe, of more than the blister. Only do not take more

labour upon you than you can bear. Do as much as you can, and no more.

Let us make use of the present time. Every day is of importance. We

know not how few days of peace remain.

“I am, dear Joseph, your affectionate friend and brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[255]

On January 26 and three following days, Wesley paid a visit to

Canterbury, where he had a congregation containing “abundance of

soldiers, and not a few of their officers.” Some might think, that a

city like Canterbury, with its magnificent cathedral, its numerous

parish churches, and giving its name to the primate of all England,

would have had no need of the services of a man like Wesley; and,

perhaps, if special circumstances had not existed here, Wesley would

not have come. But it was here that Edward Perronet resided, in a part

of the old archbishop’s palace. In the suburbs, Vincent Perronet,

Wesley’s confidential friend, the archbishop of Methodism as he was

sometimes called, was the proprietor of a farm. Above all, Canterbury

was a great military depot, and such was the interest which Wesley

felt in the welfare of soldiers, that this fact, in itself, was enough

to bring him to this far famed city. Love begets love: large numbers

of these brave defenders of the country’s rights and honour were

converted, and became deeply attached to the few Canterbury Methodists

who had shown them kindness. It is said, that on one occasion, when

certain regiments were on their way to Holland, and had to pass through

the city, such was their grateful remembrance of bygone days, that the

Methodists, in the regiments, determined to avail themselves of the

opportunity of meeting in class with their former leader; and this they

did in such numbers, that the military class-meeting lasted for nine

successive hours.[256] No wonder that Wesley loved men like these. He

came in January, and again a month afterwards, when he dined with one

of the colonels, who said: “No men fight like those who fear God; I had

rather command five hundred such, than any regiment in his majesty’s

army.”

At this period, the unfortunate Dr. Dodd was struggling into notoriety

and fame. Such were his application and talents, that, though only a

sizar of Cambridge university, he had, five years before, taken the

degree of B.A. with distinguished credit. Leaving Cambridge, he came

to London, depending for support solely upon his pen. Here he followed

every species of amusement with dangerous avidity. Though only a

little past twenty-one, he married the daughter of one of Sir John

Dolben’s domestics, and immediately took and furnished a large house in

Wardour Street, which, however, at his father’s remonstrance, he soon

relinquished. He then obtained ordination, and had now the lectureship

of St. Olave, Hart Street; and was also the preacher of Lady Moyer’s

lectures at St. Paul’s. He quickly distinguished himself as one of the

most popular of the metropolitan preachers. Of his subsequent career we

shall have to speak hereafter.

Dodd was now a young man in the twenty-seventh year of his age,—wild

and extravagant, but sincere, earnest, and greatly beloved by the

crowds that flocked to hear him. In the month of January, he wrote to

Wesley on the subject of Christian perfection. Wesley, twice as old as

himself, and in all respects his superior, had no personal acquaintance

with him, but replied as follows.

“_February 5, 1756._

“REVEREND SIR,—I am very willing to consider whatever you have to

advance on the head of Christian perfection. When I began to make the

Scriptures my study (about seven and twenty years ago), I began to

see, that Christians are called to _love God with all their heart_,

and to _serve Him with all their strength_; which is precisely what I

apprehend to be meant by the scriptural term, ‘_perfection_.’ After

weighing this for some years, I openly declared my sentiments before

the university, in the sermon on _the Circumcision of the Heart_.

About six years after, in consequence of an advice I received from

Bishop Gibson, ‘Tell all the world what you mean by perfection,’

I published my coolest and latest thoughts, in the sermon on that

subject. I therein build on no authority, ancient or modern, but the

Scripture. If this supports any doctrine, it will stand: if not, the

sooner it falls, the better. Neither the doctrine in question, nor

any other, is anything to me, unless it be the doctrine of Christ and

His apostles. If, therefore, you will please to point out to me any

passages in that sermon, which are either contrary to Scripture, or

not supported by it, and to show that they are not, I shall be full

as willing to oppose, as ever I was to defend them. I search for

truth—plain Bible truth, without any regard to the praise or dispraise

of men. If you will assist me in this search, more especially by

showing me where I have mistaken my way, it will be gratefully

acknowledged by, reverend sir, your affectionate brother and servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[257]

This noble letter was followed by further correspondence, showing

that, instead of being wedded to his own peculiar doctrines, Wesley’s

supreme anxiety was to know, what is truth. The following is an extract

from a letter which fills nearly seven printed pages of the _Arminian

Magazine_.

“KINGSWOOD, _March 12, 1756_.

“REVEREND SIR,—You and I the more easily bear with each other, because

we are both of us _rapid_ writers, and, therefore, the more liable to

mistake. I will thank you for showing me any mistake I am in; being

not so tenacious of my opinions now, as I was twenty or thirty years

ago. Indeed, I am not fond of any opinion as such. I read the Bible

with what attention I can, and regulate all my opinions thereby, to

the best of my understanding. But I am always willing to receive more

light: particularly with regard to any less common opinions; because

the explaining and defending them takes up much time, which I can

ill spare from other employments. Whoever, therefore, will give me

more light with regard to Christian perfection, will do me a singular

favour. The opinion I have concerning it, at present, I espouse merely

because I think it is scriptural; if, therefore, I am convinced it is

not scriptural, I shall willingly relinquish it. I have no particular

fondness for the term. It seldom occurs either in my preaching or

writings. It is my opponents who thrust it upon me continually, and

ask me what I mean by it.

“That the term ‘perfection’ is a scriptural term, is undeniable.

Therefore, none ought to object to the use of the _term_, whatever

they may do to this or that _application_ of it. I still think, that

perfection is only another term for holiness, or the image of God in

man. God _made man perfect_, I think, is just the same as He made him

_holy_, or in _His own image_. You are the very first person I ever

read of or spoke with, who made any doubt of it. Now _this perfection_

does certainly admit of degrees. Therefore, I readily allow the

propriety of that distinction, perfection of kinds, and perfection of

degrees. Nor do I remember one writer, ancient or modern, who excepts

against it.

“I never meant any _more_ by perfection than the loving God with all

our heart, and serving Him with all our strength. But I dare not say

_less_ than this. For it might be attended with worse consequences

than you seem to be aware of. If there be a mistake, it is far more

dangerous on the one side than on the other. If I set the mark too

high, I drive men into needless fears: if you set it too low, you

drive them into hell fire.

“With regard to fathers in Christ, you say, I ‘set aside the

experience of the best Christians.’ I did not tell you so: I say

nothing about them. In a sermon of a single sheet, I had no room

for anything but plain arguments from Scripture. I have somewhat to

say, if need should be, from the head of authority likewise: yea,

and abundantly more than you seem to apprehend. My father gave me,

thirty years ago, to reverence the ancient church and our own. But I

try every church and every doctrine by the Bible. This is the word by

which we are to be judged in that day. Whatever further thoughts you

are pleased to communicate, will be seriously considered by, reverend

and dear sir, your affectionate brother and fellow labourer,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[258]

Thus, for the present, ended his correspondence with William Dodd.

The year 1756 opened under a cloud of gloom. “Men,” says Wesley,

“were divided in their expectations concerning the ensuing year. Some

believed it would bring a large harvest of temporal calamities; others,

that it would be unusually fruitful of spiritual blessings.”[259]

Nine months before, the government had announced, that war with France

was inevitable. Fears were felt for Ireland, which was dissatisfied

and turbulent. A million of money was voted for the defence of our

American possessions. The French ambassador at London, and the English

ambassador at Paris, were recalled, and a war commenced which cost

millions of human lives, devastated no inconsiderable part of Europe,

and carried carnage into all the four quarters of the globe. Even

before the end of 1755, three hundred French merchant ships, many of

them extremely rich, and about eight thousand French seamen, were

brought into English ports. Still great alarm existed. There were

hostile preparations in the channel; and a descent of the French upon

England and Ireland was feared. On February 6, a national fast was

observed, throughout the kingdom, with unusual seriousness. Such a

fast in London had not been seen since the Restoration. Business was

suspended, and churches and meeting houses were more than full.[260]

Charles Wesley reprinted the “Hymns for Times of Trouble.” George

Whitefield published an “Address to persons of all Denominations,”

in which he spoke of “an insulting, enraged, and perfidious enemy

advancing nearer and nearer to the British borders,” “accompanied

with a popish Pretender, and thousands of Romish priests, to invade,

subdue, and destroy the bodies and substance, and to blind, deceive,

and tyrannise over the souls and consciences of the people belonging to

this happy isle.”[261]

All this was right, and deserves to be commended; but, as usual,

Wesley was more practical than either his friend Whitefield, or than

his brother Charles. On the 1st of March, he addressed the following

communication to the Hon. James West, Esq.

“SIR,—A few days since, Mr. Whitefield and I desired a friend to ask

your advice,—to whom it would be proper to make an offer of raising a

company of volunteers for his majesty’s service. We apprehended the

number would be about five hundred. Finding Mr. Whitefield has since

been persuaded, that such an offer is premature, I am constrained to

make the following, independently of him: To raise, for his majesty’s

service, at least two hundred volunteers, to be supported by

contributions among themselves; and to be ready, in case of invasion,

to act for a year, if needed so long, at his majesty’s pleasure: only

within —— miles of London.

“If this be acceptable to his majesty, they beg to have arms out of

the Tower, giving the usual security for their return; and some of his

majesty’s sergeants, to instruct them in the military exercise.

“I am now hastening to Bristol, on account of the election; but if my

return to London would be of any service, you may command, sir,

“Your obedient servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[262]

Wesley arrived in Bristol on the 3rd of March, and found “voters and

non-voters ready to tear each other in pieces.” The two candidates

were Jarrit Smith, Esq., and John Spencer, Esq. Wesley, having lost

his voice, was not able to preach or to speak to the whole society;

but desired those members who were freemen to meet him privately. The

result is given in the following letter to Mr. Blackwell, written the

day after.

“BRISTOL, _March 4, 1756_.

“DEAR SIR,—If the election of Mr. Spencer be a thing of any

consequence, then it was extremely ill judged to prevent his coming

down. He ought to have been here at all hazards, if he were not very

dangerously ill. His absence will probably turn the scale; and, if

the Jacobites gain one member now, they will have two the next time.

Whereas there is reason to believe, had Mr. Spencer appeared, there

would have been no opposition.

“Last night, I desired all the freemen of our society to meet me after

preaching, and enlarged a little upon his majesty’s character, and the

reasons we had to spare no pains in his service, I believe all who had

been wavering were fully convinced. But some had absolutely promised

to vote for Mr. Smith; it having been confidently reported, that both

the candidates were equally acceptable to his majesty.

“The whole city is in confusion. Oh what a pity there could not be

some way of managing elections of every sort, without this embittering

of Englishmen against Englishmen, and kindling fires which cannot be

quenched in many years!

“I remain, dear sir, yours most affectionately,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[263]

The poll at Bristol ended on the 16th of March, when the numbers

stood: for Mr. Smith, 2418; for Mr. Spencer, 2347; majority for Mr.

Smith, 71.[264]

Wesley spent nearly a month in Bristol and its neighbourhood, and

in the principality of Wales. While preaching at Pill, a press-gang

landed from a man-of-war, and came to the place of meeting, but, after

listening awhile, quietly departed. At Coleford, the little society had

been harassed by disputatious baptists and quakers, but was now united

and loving. He visited Howel Harris, at Trevecca, and met with a hearty

welcome. “I wondered,” says he, “that Howel Harris did not go out and

preach as usual; but he now informed me, he preached till he could

preach no longer, his constitution being entirely broken. While he was

thus confined, he was pressed in spirit to build a large house; though

he knew not why, or for whom. But as soon as it was built, men, women,

and children, without his seeking, came to it from all parts of Wales;

and, except in the case of the Orphan House at Halle, I never heard of

so many signal interpositions of Divine providence.”

On the 29th of March, Wesley embarked at Holyhead for Ireland. On

landing, he was surprised to “find all Ireland in perfect safety. None

had any more apprehension of an invasion, than of being swallowed up in

the sea.”

Wesley employed a month in Dublin; during which he met about a hundred

children, whom the Methodist preachers catechized publicly twice a week

he conducted the first covenant service in Ireland, in which nearly

four hundred of the Dublin society united; and he held a conference of

the Irish preachers. He writes: “I never before found such unanimity

among them. They appeared now to be not only of one heart, but likewise

of one mind and judgment.”

He wrote as follows to his friend Blackwell.

“DUBLIN, _April 19, 1756_.

“DEAR SIR,—While you, in England, are under I know not what

apprehensions, all here are as safe as if they were already in

paradise. We have no fortifying of seaports; no military preparations;

but all is in absolute peace and safety. Both high and low seem fully

persuaded, that the whole talk of an invasion is only a trick to get

money.

“I purpose going to Cork directly; and, after two or three weeks,

turning back toward the north of Ireland. If it please God that

troublous times come between the design and the execution, I shall go

as far as I can, and no farther. But I take no thought for the morrow.

To-day I am determined, by His grace, to do the work of Him that sent

me. I find encouragement so to do; for all the people here are athirst

for the word of life.

“Do you, at London, believe that the danger of an invasion is over?

“I am, dear sir, your affectionate servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[265]

Wesley set out for Cork on April 26. On his way, he preached at

Edinderry, where the little society had built a commodious preaching

house. At Tullamore, he preached in the market-place, and spent an

hour with certain military officers in the barracks. At Kilkenny, he

found a number of soldiers meeting in class; and preached in one of

the officers’ rooms. “Still,” he writes, “in Ireland, the first call

is to the soldiery.” At Waterford, he had to remove “misunderstandings

and offences.” The society was split asunder, and was reduced to

six-and-twenty members; but he succeeded in winning one-and-thirty

back. At Clonmel, which he pronounces the pleasantest town he had seen

in Ireland, he preached once in a large loft, capable of containing

five or six hundred people; and once in the open street. At the

latter service, the mayor of the town, and a number of soldiers and

officers, were present, and gave great attention; but, in the midst

of the sermon, a drunken man came marching down the street, attended

by a popish mob, with a club in one hand, and a large cleaver in the

other, grievously cursing and blaspheming, and swearing he would cut

off the preacher’s head. The soldiers were for punishing the man, and

Wesley had difficulty in hindering them. The brute began to strike the

congregation; and wounded a constable in the wrist. He himself was then

knocked down, and the mayor and constables marched him away to gaol.

Wesley arrived at Cork on the 12th of May, and preached in the new

chapel, which he describes as being “very near as large as that in

Dublin; and far better finished in every respect, though at £400 less

expense.” This, like the chapel at Dublin, had apartments for the

preachers. It stood till 1826, when it was rebuilt, and again opened

for Methodist services in 1827.

Having spent three weeks in Cork and its immediate neighbourhood,

Wesley, on the 7th of June, turned his face northwards.

He came to Ballygarrane, a town of Palatines, who “retain,” says

he, “much of the temper and manners of their own country, having no

resemblance of those among whom they live. I found much life among this

plain, artless, serious people. The whole town came together in the

evening, and praised God for the consolation. Many of those, who are

not outwardly joined with us, walk in the light of God’s countenance;

yea, and have divided themselves into classes, in imitation of our

brethren, with whom they live in perfect harmony. In examining the

society, I was obliged to pause several times. The words of the plain,

honest people came with so much weight, as frequently to stop me for a

while, and raise a general cry among the hearers.”

The Palatines, as previously intimated, were refugees from the

Palatinate of the Rhine, in Germany, and were driven from their homes

for having embraced the principles of Luther and of the Reformation.

Thousands fled to the camp of the Duke of Marlborough; and seven

thousand were brought to England in 1709. Of these, three thousand were

sent to America; a few remained in England; and the rest were removed

to Ireland, and settled principally on the estate of Lord Southwell,

in the neighbourhood of Ballingran, where each man was supplied with

a musket, called “a Queen Anne,” to protect himself and family; while

for every man, woman, and child, eight acres of ground were leased, at

the annual rental of five shillings per acre, which the government, who

wished to encourage the protestant interest, engaged to pay for the

first twenty years. Having no gospel minister, these fugitive Germans

soon became “eminent for drunkenness, cursing, swearing, and an utter

neglect of religion.” Now they were again reformed; “an oath was rarely

heard among them, or a drunkard seen”; they had built a preaching

house; numbers were Methodists; and those that were not imitated

the Methodists, by forming themselves into classes, and by holding

meetings for Christian fellowship. They continued to be a serious,

thinking people. “By their diligence,” says Wesley, “they turned all

their land into a garden.” Days of darkness, however, soon came. Rents

were so raised, that tenants were starved, and obliged to emigrate.

In 1760, a company of these, now oppressed, Irish Palatines embarked

at Limerick, as Christian emigrants, for America. The crowd who saw

them leave little thought that two of that small band on board—Philip

Embury, the local preacher, and Barbara Heck, the honest Methodist—were

destined, in the mysterious providence of God, to influence for good

countless myriads of human beings, and that their names would live as

long as the sun and moon endure. That little and unpretending ship

contained the germ of all the Methodist churches of the United States;

churches which have now more or less beneath their influence about

eight millions of the population of that prosperous hemisphere.

Leaving the Palatines, Wesley and Thomas Walsh proceeded to Limerick.

At Ennis, he preached in the “courthouse, to a huge, wild, unawakened

multitude, protestants and papists, many of whom would have been rude

enough if they durst.”

Riding through the counties of Galway and Connaught, Wesley and Walsh

came to Castlebar, in the county of Mayo. For ten days, this was the

centre of their operations. Wesley preached repeatedly in the churches

at Castlebar, Hollymount, and Ballyheen, to large and attentive

congregations.

On the 19th of July, he first set foot in the province of Ulster,

though his preachers had been labouring there, for several years, with

great success. Many had been converted, and a considerable number

united together in Christian fellowship.[266] At Lisburn, he preached

in the market-house. The rector and his curate called upon him, and

“spent two hours in free, serious, friendly conversation.” The society

was small, and their preaching house, either now or soon after, was the

shop of a stocking weaver, named William Black; his stocking frames

filling a large portion of the place.[267] He spoke “plain,” he says,

“both to the great vulgar and the small. But between Seceders, old,

self conceited presbyterians, new-light men, Moravians, Cameronians,

and formal churchmen, it is a miracle of miracles, if any here bring

forth fruit to perfection.”

He proceeded to Belfast, where the great proportion of the population

were presbyterians. There were four places of worship belonging to

the body, two of which were Socinian or Arian. The parish church, in

Donegall Street, was the only one then belonging to the Establishment,

with the Rev. William Bristow for its vicar,—an able, orthodox, and

liberal Christian.

At Carrickfergus, he preached in the session house to most of the

inhabitants of the town. Here he was opposed by the notorious James

Relly, who “begun a dull, pointless harangue, about hirelings and

false prophets.” “He cawed, and cawed,” says Wesley, “but could utter

nothing, hardly three words together.” Wesley preached, at the desire

of the prisoners, near the prison door, so that the inmates might hear

him. He went to church, and heard “a lively, useful sermon”; but,

naturally enough, shocked one of the Methodists who asked him “to go

to the meeting,” by saying, “I never go to a meeting.” “He seemed,”

says he, “as much astonished as the old Scot, at Newcastle, who left us

because we were Church of England men. We are so; although we condemn

none who have been brought up in another way.” So Wesley salved his

conscience, and feebly tried to free himself from the charge of bigotry.

On the 4th of August, he got back to Dublin, and, on the 10th, set

sail, with three of his preachers, Walsh, Haughton, and Morgan, for

England, having spent nineteen weeks in the sister island.

Preaching, on his way, at Chester, Bolton, Manchester, Chelmerton,

Wednesbury, and other places, he arrived in Bristol on August 25, and

held a conference with about fifty of his preachers. The rules of the

society were “read, and carefully considered one by one; and all agreed

to abide by them all, and to recommend them with all their might.”

The rules of the bands were similarly considered, and, after making

some verbal alterations, all consented to observe and to enforce them.

The rules of Kingswood school were also reviewed, and were pronounced

“agreeable to Scripture and reason.” It was also determined to begin a

subscription for the school in every place; and, if needful, to make a

collection every year.

The principal point discussed was the same as that which occupied

so much of the time and attention of the conference of 1755. Wesley

writes: “We largely considered the necessity of keeping in the Church,

and using the clergy with tenderness; and there was no dissenting

voice. God gave us all to be of one mind and of one judgment. My

brother and I closed the conference by a solemn declaration of our

purpose never to separate from the Church; and all our brethren

concurred therein.”

This, among the Methodists, was the great question of the day,

and deserves the reader’s best attention. “The attempt to force

the Methodists to an attendance upon the services of the Church,

by refusing to them the sacraments from their own preachers, and

by closing their chapels during the sabbath, except early in the

morning, and in the evening, drove many of them into a state of actual

separation both from the Church and their own societies, and placed

them in the hands of Dissenters. At Leeds, Mr. Edwards had assumed

the character of an independent minister, as Charles Skelton had done

in London, and had drawn away the greater part of the society with

him.”[268]

Besides this, Edward Perronet, a man of great wit, had published a

withering satire on the national Establishment, entitled “The Mitre,”

12mo, 279 pages. As the book was suppressed by Wesley,[269] and is now

so extremely scarce, that perhaps not more than a dozen copies can be

found,[270] the following selection, from the concluding verses of the

first canto, may be acceptable, and may serve to suggest an idea of

all the others. They are intended to describe the Established Church.

“To what compare thy fertile womb?

A den, a cavern, or the tomb?

Why not compare to all?

Dark, hollow, teeming, large and deep;

Or wild, or dead, or fast asleep;

And stubborn as a wall.

Or like a _mart_, high vending place;

Open for every age and face,

Who loiter, steal, or range:

Or, like the common road or street,

Where knaves, as honest, walk or meet;

As _Albion’s_ grand _Exchange_.

In short, thou’rt like a common shore,

Filling and emptying, never pure

From pride, or pomp, or sin:

That, (speak they truth who say they know,)

With all thy _scavengers_ can do,

They cannot keep thee clean.”

The second canto, which consists of 363 stanzas, is devoted to the

Church’s “Divine right” to take tithes, and to enact, and to enforce

laws, in reference to Easter dues, leases, etc.; to impose creeds; to

preach; and to give sacraments. The following are the second and third

verses.

“This _sprite_ unseen, whence does it spring?

Is it a beggar or a king?

Or vile hermaphrodite?

To me _this_ seems to be its sex;

It sometimes asks, and sometimes takes,

Careless of _wrong_ or _right_.

I think its source is easy traced,

As are its claims in order placed,

Its furniture and crests;

A blended spawn of Church and State,

Its father—_Constantine_ the _Great_,

Its dam—the pride of priests.”

The third canto is principally devoted to preachers and preaching; the

fourth to christenings, confirmations, Church emoluments, the Lisbon

earthquake, and England’s danger. No one will agree with all the

author’s sentiments; but all must admit the pungency and power of his

withering wit.

Space forbids the insertion of lengthened extracts from Edward

Perronet’s suppressed production; but the following are fair specimens

of its style and spirit. To express the indignation and disgust of

a Churchman at the thought of receiving the sacrament from a lay

preacher, whose call to preach is as much Divine as is that of the

preacher episcopally ordained, the poet writes,—

“What, take the ordinance from them!

O, what a frenzy of a dream!

Nor _deacon_ nor a priest!

Sooner renounce our _grace_ or friends,

Than take it from _their_ fingers’ ends!

A lay, unhallowed beast!”

Perronet, in a note, denounces the doctrine of the Lord’s supper being

“a sacrifice”; and says, so long as this delusion is maintained, the

sacrament must be administered by priests, and by priests only. He

writes: “only reduce this _simple_ institution to its _primitive_ and

_scriptural_ standard, and then, a handful of _private_ individuals,

or a single family, may communicate, as the Christians did of old, and

the _sacrament_ (so called) become, once more, _literally_, a daily

sacrifice of _prayer_ and _thanksgiving_.” (Page 128.)

In another note (page 235), after referring to a book entitled, “The

Dissenting Gentleman’s Answer to the Rev. Mr. White,” he says: “I was

born, and am like to die in the tottering _communion_ of the Church

of England; but I despise her nonsense; and thank God, that I have

once read a book, that no fool _can_ answer, and that no _honest_ man

_will_.” He then proceeds to pronounce the Church’s doom. The reader

must be satisfied with two stanzas only.

“Permit me to foretell thy _doom_,

(Which has in _part_ been that of _Rome_,)

Thou wilt be clean abhorred:

The _nation_ will expose thy shame,

Cast out as dung thy putrid name,

The vengeance of the Lord!

For while her _orders_, and her _rules_,

Are made the _standard_ of thy _schools_,

And all beside of blame:

What other portion canst thou hope,

But that the wise should give thee up,

Her _ape_—without her _name_?”

The book throughout is written in the same severe,—almost savage style.

Remembering this; and also remembering, that numbers of Methodists

had already turned Dissenters; and that separation from the Church of

England was still the great question agitating the Methodistic mind; no

wonder that the subject was re-discussed in the conference of 1756, and

that a most important correspondence followed.

While in Ireland, Wesley wrote to a clergyman, the Rev. Mr. Clark, of

Hollymount,[271] in the following terms.

“CASTLEBAR, _July 3, 1756_.

“REVEREND SIR,—I still believe the episcopal form of church government

to be scriptural and apostolical. I mean, well agreeing with the

practice and writings of the apostles. But, that it is _prescribed_

in Scripture, I do not believe. This opinion, which I once zealously

espoused, I have been heartily ashamed of, ever since I read Bishop

Stillingfleet’s ‘Irenicon.’ I think he has unanswerably proved, that

neither Christ nor His apostles _prescribe_ any particular form of

church government; and, that the plea of _Divine right_ for diocesan

episcopacy was never heard of in the primitive church.

“As to _heresy_ and _schism_, I cannot find one text in the Bible,

where they are taken in the modern sense. I remember no one scripture,

wherein _heresy_ signifies ‘error in opinion,’ whether fundamental

or not; nor any, wherein _schism_ signifies a ‘separation from the

church,’ whether with cause or without. I wish, sir, you would

reconsider this point, and review the scriptures wherein those terms

occur.

“I would take some pains to recover any one from error, or to

reconcile him to our church, I mean, to the Church of England; from

which I do not separate yet, and probably never shall; but I would

take much more pains to recover any one from sin. One who lives and

dies in error, or in dissent from our church, may yet be saved:

but one who lives and dies in sin, must perish. I would to God, we

could all agree both in opinions and outward worship; but, if this

cannot be, may we not agree in holiness? This is the great desire of,

reverend sir, your very humble servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[272]

Nineteen days before the Bristol conference was opened, Charles Wesley

addressed the following to the Rev. Samuel Walker, of Truro.

“BRISTOL, _August 7, 1756_.

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—My brother is coming hither to a conference

with his preachers. Another letter from you might, by the blessing of

God, confirm him in his calling. He seems resolved to temporize with

them no longer. Mr. Grimshaw is coming to strengthen his hands. We

shall have a private conference before the general one.

“I should have broken off from the Methodists and my brother, in 1752,

but for the agreement.[273] I think every preacher should sign that

agreement, or leave us. What I desire of my brother is:—1. That the

unsound, unrecoverable preachers should be let depart just now. 2.

That the wavering should be confirmed, if possible, and established

in their calling. 3. That the sound ones should be received into the

strictest union and confidence, and, as soon as may be, prepared for

orders.

“To this end, my brother ought, in my judgment, to declare and avow,

in the strongest and most explicit manner, his resolution to live and

die in the communion of the Church of England. (1) To take all proper

pains to instruct and ground both his preachers and his flock, in

the same: a treatise is much wanting on this subject, which he might

write and spread through all his societies. (2) To wait with me on the

archbishop, who has desired to see him, and tell him our whole design.

(3) To advise, as far as they think proper, with such of our brethren

the clergy as know the truth, and do nothing without their approbation.

“I was advised long ago, by Lady Huntingdon, to write you on this

subject, but could not do it till now. Your concern for the cause of

God will, I doubt not, induce you to do all you can to promote it,

and to hinder the work from being destroyed; although it would not be

destroyed (as I often tell the Methodists) even if they all desert it,

and turn aside to vain sectarian janglings. Remember at the throne of

grace, dear sir, your meanest fellow servant,

“CHARLES WESLEY.”[274]

The above was confidential. Mr. Walker treated it as such; and, nine

days afterwards, not only wrote a long letter to Wesley himself,

which will be noticed shortly, but also a long reply to Charles. The

following are extracts.

“_August 16, 1756._

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—I am greatly concerned about the issue of the

conference your brother is to have with his lay preachers. We had a

short correspondence on that head last winter, wherein I saw he was

greatly pushed by his preachers, unwilling to part with them, and yet

not caring to part from the Church of England.

“Lay preachers, being contrary to the constitution of the Church of

England, are, as far as that point goes, a separation from it. It is

quite another question, whether lay preachers be agreeable to the

appointment of the Spirit respecting the ministry. The matter is not,

whether lay preachers be needful, or what their calling may be. Be

the one and the other as it will, the thing is plainly inconsistent

with the discipline of the Church of England; and so, in one essential

point, setting up a church within her, which cannot be of her. When,

therefore, it is asked, shall we separate from the Church of England?

it should rather be asked, shall we make the separation, we have

begun, a separation in all forms? And if we do not think ourselves

allowed to do this, shall we unite with her? We do not, unless lay

preaching is laid aside.

“Yourselves must judge of the call and necessity of lay preachers,

and whether that, or anything beside, may justify a separation.

Meantime, there is a continual bar kept up between you and any regular

clergyman, who cannot in conscience fall in with this measure. The

most he can do is not to forbid them; he cannot take them by the hand.

And so there must be two disunited ministrations of the word in the

same place, by people who yet do call themselves of the Church of

England.

“After all these considerations, might not an expedient be found out

which might correspond with the word of God and the Church of England;

and, at the same time, both remove all objections, and render the body

of Methodists more useful? I have long and often thought of such a

thing. My scheme is this. 1. That as many of the lay preachers as are

fit for, and can be procured, ordination, be ordained. 2. That those

who remain be not allowed to preach, but be set as inspectors over

the societies, and assistants to them. 3. That they be not moved from

place to place, to the end they may be personally acquainted with all

the members of such societies. 4. That their business may be to purge

and edify the societies under their care, to the end that no person

be continued a member, whose conversation is not orderly and of good

report.

“If this should be made an objection, that hereby lay preachers would

be prevented from preaching abroad, and so much good be put a stop to,

I would suggest it to be inquired into, whether this lay preaching

hath been so much to the honour or interest of religion or Methodism

as may be supposed? I remember, when it first began, I said and

thought lay preaching would be the ruin of Methodism.

“The archbishop is greatly to be commended for his labours after

peace; and, without question, if the measures are obtained which

you desire, it will be very desirable he be waited on, and informed

of them. But this must be done with fear, lest the leaders among

you, being taken notice of by such great ones, do abate their zeal.

Especially, it would be capable of a very bad interpretation, should

any of them be advanced to considerable preferment.

“To my thinking, you will not gain much by getting the preachers to

subscribe the agreement of March 10, 1752. If things are left as they

are, they will break out at last, nor can anything less be expected at

your brothers death, which is an event at no great distance, in all

human appearance. Or should he live, still the evil is unremoved.

“I am yours, etc.,

“SAMUEL WALKER.”[275]

In his letter to Wesley himself, Mr. Walker urges him to do something

decisive in the way of putting Methodism on a footing that will

“render it more serviceable to the church of Christ, and the Church

of England.” He propounds the plan detailed in his letter to Charles

Wesley. He wishes him, at the approaching conference: (1) To declare

himself as satisfied concerning the _unlawfulness_ of separation from

the Church of England, and as fully determined to dispute that matter

no more with any who dissented from his opinion; (2) to act with

vigour, in requiring his preachers to declare themselves, suffering

such to depart as declined to concur with him, and to make all his

societies acquainted with the action he had taken. He adds: “Delays

will make matters worse. The disaffected will grow upon you, corrupt

others, and imagine you are afraid of them; while also, in so unsettled

a state of things, nothing can go forward; the enemy has advantage;

and the interests of vital religion must suffer.” He concludes by

requesting that the business “be so conducted as to give no offence to

Dissenters of any denomination, lest unadvisedly old disputes and party

heats should be revived.”[276]

Before his brother’s arrival in Bristol, Charles Wesley replied to Mr.

Walker, as follows.

“BRISTOL, _August 21, 1756_.

“DEAR SIR,—Your last brings a blessing with it. I hope to consider it

fully with my brother, who is expected every hour.

“Lay preaching, it is allowed, is a partial separation, and may, but

_need_ not, end in a total one. The probability of it has made me

tremble for years past, and kept me from leaving the Methodists. I

stay not so much to do good, as to prevent evil. I stand in the way of

my brother’s violent counsellors, the object of both their fear and

hate.

“The regulations you propose are the same in substance which I have

been long contending for in vain. I know my brother will not hear of

laying aside his lay preachers in so many words. All I can desire of

him, to begin, is: (1) To cut off all their hopes of his leaving the

Church of England; (2) to put a stop to any more new preachers, till

he has entirely regulated, disciplined, and secured the old ones.

If he wavers still, and trims between the Church and them, I know

not what to do. As yet, it is in his power, if he exert himself, to

stop the evil. But I fear he will never have another opportunity. The

tide will be too strong for him, and bear him away into the gulf of

separation. Must I not, therefore, enter my protest and give up the

preachers formally to him? _Hoc Ithacus volit_, and they impatiently

wait for it. The restless pains of bad men, to thrust me out from the

Methodists, seem a plain argument for my continuing with them. I want

light, and would have no will of my own, but prove what is that good

and perfect will of God. Continue your prayers for, dear sir, your

sincere, though weak and despised brother,

“CHARLES WESLEY.”[277]

Wesley arrived; the conference was held; and, a few days afterwards,

the following sensible and Christian letter was sent to Mr. Walker.

“KINGSWOOD, _September 3, 1756_.

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—I have one point in view, to promote, so far

as I am able, vital, practical religion. On this single principle, I

have hitherto proceeded, and taken no step but in subservience to it.

With this view, when I found it to be absolutely necessary for the

continuance of the work which God had begun in many souls, and which

their _regular pastors_ generally used all possible means to destroy,

I permitted several of their brethren, whom I believed God had called

thereto, and qualified for the work, to comfort, exhort, and instruct

those who were athirst for God, or who walked in the light of His

countenance. But, as the persons so qualified were few, and those who

wanted their assistance very many, it followed, that most of these

were obliged to travel continually from place to place; and this

occasioned several regulations from time to time, which were chiefly

made in our conferences.

“So great a blessing has, from the beginning, attended the labour

of these itinerants, that we have been more and more convinced,

every year, of the more than lawfulness of this proceeding. And the

inconveniences, most of which we foresaw from the very first, have

been both fewer and smaller than were expected. Rarely two in one

year, out of the whole number of preachers, have either separated

themselves or been rejected by us. A great majority have all along

behaved as becometh the gospel of Christ; and, I am clearly persuaded,

still desire nothing more than to spend and be spent for their

brethren.

“‘How these may be settled on such a footing, as one might wish they

might be after my death,’ is a weighty point, and has taken up many of

my thoughts for several years; but I know nothing yet. The steps I am

now to take are plain. I see broad light shining upon them; but the

other part of the prospect I cannot see; clouds and darkness rest upon

it. ‘To follow my own conscience, without any regard to consequences,

or prudence, so called,’ is a rule which I have closely followed for

many years, and hope to follow to my life’s end.

“The first of your particular advices is, ‘to keep in full view the

interest of Christ’s church in general, and of practical religion; not

considering the Church of England, or the cause of Methodism, but as

subordinate thereto.’ This advice I have punctually observed from the

beginning, as well as at our late conference. You advise, (2) ‘to keep

in view the unlawfulness of a separation from the Church of England.’

To this likewise I agree. It cannot be lawful to separate from it,

unless it be unlawful to continue in it. You advise, (3) ‘fully to

declare myself on this head, and to suffer no dispute concerning

it.’ The very same thing I wrote to my brother from Ireland. And we

have declared ourselves without reserve. Nor was there any at the

conference otherwise minded; those who would have aimed at dispute had

left us before. All our preachers, as well as ourselves, purpose to

continue in the Church of England. Nor did they ever before so freely

and explicitly declare themselves on this subject.

“Your last advice is, ‘that as many of our preachers as are fit for

it, be ordained; and that the others be fixed to certain societies,

not as preachers, but as readers or inspectors.’

“You oblige me by speaking your sentiments so plainly: with the same

plainness I will answer. So far as I know myself, I have no more

concern for the reputation of Methodism, than for the reputation of

Prester John.

“Is that which you propose a better way? This should be coolly and

calmly considered.

“If I mistake not, there are now in Cornwall about four and thirty of

these societies, part of whom now experience the love of God; part are

more or less earnestly seeking it. Four preachers,—Peter Jaco, Thomas

Johnson, W. Crabb, and William Allwood,—design, for the ensuing year,

partly to call other sinners to repentance, but chiefly to guide and

feed those few feeble sheep.

“Now suppose, that we can effect, that Peter Jaco and Thomas Johnson

be ordained and settled in the curacies of Buryan and St. Just; and

suppose William Crabb and William Allwood fix at Launceston and the

Dock, as readers and exhorters; will this answer the end I have in

view, so well as travelling through the county?

“It will not answer it so well, even with regard to those societies

with whom Peter Jaco and Thomas Johnson have settled. Be their talents

ever so great, they will, ere long, grow dead themselves, and so will

most of those that hear them. I know, were I myself to preach one

whole year in one place, I should preach both myself and most of my

congregation asleep. Nor can I ever believe, it was ever the will of

our Lord, that any congregation should have one teacher only. We have

found, by long and constant experience, that a frequent change of

teachers is best. This preacher has one talent, that another. No one,

whom I ever knew, has all the talents which are needful for beginning,

continuing, and perfecting the work of grace in a whole congregation.

“But suppose this would better answer the end with regard to those

two societies, would it answer in those where William Allwood and

William Crabb were settled as inspectors or readers? First, who shall

feed them with the milk of the word? The ministers of their parishes?

Alas, they cannot: they themselves neither know, nor live, nor teach

the gospel. These readers? Can then either they, or I, or you, always

find something to read our congregation, which will be as exactly

adapted to their wants, and as much blessed to them, as our preaching?

And here is another difficulty still: what authority have I to forbid

their doing what I believe God has called them to do? I apprehend,

indeed, that there ought, if possible, to be both an outward and

inward call to this work; yet, if one of the two be supposed wanting,

I had rather want the outward than the inward call. I rejoice,

that I am called to preach the gospel both by God and man. Yet, I

acknowledge, I had rather have the Divine without the human, than the

human without the Divine call.

“But waiving this, and supposing these four societies to be better

provided for than they were before, what becomes of the other thirty?

Will they prosper as well when they are left as sheep without a

shepherd? The experiment has been tried again and again, and always

with the same event; even the strong in faith grew weak and faint;

many of the weak made shipwreck of faith; the awakened fell asleep;

and sinners, changed for a while, returned as a dog to the vomit.

And so, by our lack of service, many of the souls perished for whom

Christ died. Now, had we willingly withdrawn our service from them, by

voluntarily settling in one place, what account of this could we have

given to the great Shepherd of all our souls?

“I cannot, therefore, see how any of those four preachers, or any

others in like circumstances, can ever, while they have health and

strength, ordained or unordained, fix in one place, without a grievous

wound to their own conscience, and damage to the _general_ work of

God. Yet, I trust, I am open to conviction; and your further thoughts

on this, or any subject, will be always acceptable to, reverend and

dear sir, your very affectionate brother and fellow labourer,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[278]

Such a letter ought to have been conclusive. By its practical common

sense, it demolishes the fanciful theory of Charles Wesley and his

friend Walker. The matter, however, was far from being settled. Walker

accused Wesley of timidity. “He is,” says he, in a letter to Charles

Wesley, “hindered by his own fears, which give the preachers an

advantage they could not otherwise possibly have. He sees the necessity

of either laying the preachers aside, or making them a separate

church; while also, on the one hand, his conscience will not digest

separation; and, on the other, he has had too great a hand in setting

them up, to think of pulling them down. It has been a great fault all

along, to have made the low people of your council; and, if there be

not power enough left in your brother’s hands to do as he sees fit,

they will soon show him they will be their own masters.”[279]

Mr. Walker, on September 2, wrote to the Rev. Thomas Adam, rector

of Wintringham, telling him that the affair had become exceedingly

serious; and that, in his opinion, unless the lay preachers were laid

aside, it would end in separation. He adds, that Charles Wesley might

consent to their dismissal; but Wesley himself would not.[280]

Three weeks later, Adam replied to Walker in the following, not over

charitable, terms.

“_September 21, 1756._

“DEAR SIR,—Methodism, as to its external form, is such a deviation

from the rule and constitution of the Church of England, that all

attempts to render it consistent must be in vain. Lay preaching is

a manifest irregularity, and would not be endured in any Christian

society. To salve this sore, you say, _let some of their lay preachers

be ordained_. But suppose they were, to what end would they be

ordained? That they might still go on to preach in fields, or private

houses, and hold separate meetings? This would be as great a breach

upon the order of the Church as ever, and perhaps attended with

greater inconveniences than their present practice. J. Wesley will

not, cannot give up the point of lay preaching; it will be giving up

all; he must cry _peccavi_, and his heart will hold him a tug before

it comes to that. Upon the whole, my judgment is, that they have

embarrassed themselves past recovery; and must either go on in their

present form, or separate totally and openly. The latter, many think,

would be more ingenuous than an underhand separation. I think you must

e’en let the Methodists alone. I do not see what help you can afford

them, consistently with their principles and your own. ‘Every plant,’

etc., should make us tremble on one side and the other.

“I am, reverend and dear sir,

“Your unworthy brother,

“THOS. ADAM.”[281]

Amid such difficulties, such friends, and such opponents, poor

perplexed Wesley had to grope his way as he best could. For a time, the

feverish anxiety of his brother somewhat subsided. Within a week after

the conference, he wrote to Mr. Walker, his confidential, if not wise,

adviser, as follows.

“BRISTOL, _September 6, 1756_.

“DEAR SIR,—Between forty and fifty, or almost all, our itinerant

preachers were present at our conference. I have talked largely

with each, some of whom I had not known before so much as by name.

Mr. Venn, a clergyman, was with us the whole time. Since our last

conference at Leeds, two or three of our preachers, of a froward

unhumbled spirit, have left us. The rest, except two here and two in

Ireland, are, I have good reason to believe, men of a single eye, and

humble, teachable spirit. My brother seems farther from a separation

than ever. This morning, he set out for London, to print a new edition

of his Notes. He has also undertaken to write a treatise, to confirm

the Methodists in the Church. Next Monday, I expect to set out for the

north on the same errand. Continue your prayers for, dear sir, your

weakest brother,

“CHARLES WESLEY.”[282]

On September 17, Charles Wesley started upon his northern mission.

At Walbridge, he exhorted the forty-three members of the Methodist

society “to continue steadfast in the communion of the Church of

England.” At Cheltenham, he writes: “I did not forget to confirm the

brethren in their calling; that is, to live and die in the Church of

England.” At Sheffield, he “spake plainly and lovingly to the society

of continuing in the Church; and, though many of them were Dissenters

and predestinarians, none were offended.” At Rotherham, he says: “I

plainly told the society, that ‘there is no salvation _out of the

church_,’ that is, out of the mystical body of Christ, or the company

of faithful people.” At Leeds, he tells us, the society “were unanimous

to stay in the Church, because the Lord stays in it, and multiplies His

witnesses therein, more than in any other church in Christendom.” At

York, he writes: “I exhorted them to go to church, that they might be

found of Jesus in the temple.” At Seacroft, where Grimshaw joined him,

he “strongly exhorted the society to continue stedfast in fellowship

with each other, and the whole Church of England.” At Heptonstall, he

“warned them of the wiles of the devil, whereby he would draw them

away from the church, and the other means of grace.” At Manchester,

he challenged them “to show him one Methodist who had ever prospered

by turning Dissenter.” While here, he also addressed his brother as

follows.

“One thing might prevent, in great measure, the mischiefs which will

probably ensue after our death; and that is, _greater, much greater

deliberation and care in admitting preachers_. Ought any new preacher

to be received before we know, that he is grounded, not only in the

doctrines we teach, but in the discipline also, and, particularly, in

the communion of the Church of England? Ought we not to try what he

can answer a baptist, a quaker, a papist, as well as a predestinarian

or Moravian? If we do not insist on that στοργη for our

desolate mother as a pre-requisite, yet should we not be well assured,

that the candidate is no enemy to the Church? Is it not our duty

to stop J. C.” [Joseph Cownley?] “and such like, from railing and

laughing at the Church? Should we not now, at least, shut the stable

door? The short remainder of my life is devoted to this very thing, to

follow our sons with buckets of water, to quench the flame of strife

and division, which they have or may kindle.”

He also wrote, from the same place, to his friend Grimshaw, under date

of October 29: “I could not leave this poor shattered society so soon

as I proposed. They have not had fair play from our treacherous sons

in the gospel. I have once more persuaded them to go to church and

sacrament, and stay to carry them thither the next Lord’s day. Nothing

but grace can keep our children, after our departure, from running into

a thousand sects, a thousand errors.”

He likewise wrote to his “beloved brethren at Leeds, etc.,” as follows:

“I knew beforehand, that the Sanballats and Tobiahs would be grieved

when they heard there was a man come to seek the welfare of the Church

of England. I expected they would pervert my words, as if I should say,

‘_The Church could save you_.’ But let not their slanders move you.

Continue in the old ship. Jesus hath a favour for our Church, and is

wonderfully visiting and reviving His work in her.”[283]

On November 6, he got back to Bristol, and, ten days later, sent the

following furious letter to his brother—a letter now for the first time

published.

“BRISTOL, _November 16, 1756_.

“Doubtless you guard in your ‘Preservative’ against that levelling,

devilish, root and branch, spirit, which breathes in every line of

the ‘Mitre.’ I kept my own thoughts till you imparted yours, with

which I entirely agree. Only you do him too much honour by naming him

with the _Independent Whig_. The religion of both is equal, but Ted

exceeds in bitterness and malice beyond all comparison. Much wit I

can see in the _Independent Whig_; but in the ‘Mitre’ none at all.

Such insufferable dulness would surfeit every reader, but those whose

hearts are as thoroughly corrupted as the writer’s. I marvel how he

can look you or me in the face, after writing and propagating such a

book; how he can pretend to be our fellow labourer! Notwithstanding

his promise to us, at J. Jones’, he continues to spread his notions

with his book. He does not sell, but gives it to _our_ preachers

and friends. One he made me the bearer of to York. I have heard

none commend its wit, but Mrs. James, and Christopher Hopper, which

convinces me nothing is too stupid to do hurt. Is it right or fair,

that he should go on to poison our children, and wound us through

the influence which we lend him? I love both him and Charles and the

whole family. So you do, as we have abundantly shown. But must we,

therefore, suffer this madman to cast firebrands, and to tear our

flock to pieces? I know he is totally fallen from grace; and _can_ I,

_ought_ I, ever to trust him till he is sensible of his fall? In my

private capacity, I show him what love and civility I can, and intend

to continue his friend, as far as he is capable of receiving good

from me; but, as ministers of Christ, as guardians of this particular

church, as fathers of the poor Methodists, what ought we to do? Let

us first agree betwixt ourselves, and cut off all his hopes of ever

coming between us. Then, whatever you say, or do, or judge, I say,

do, and judge the same. Only, what we do, we must do quickly. You can

better write than speak your mind. He stays here another week. Suppose

you wrote him a letter (for me also to subscribe and deliver), and set

before him some of the things which he hath done.

“1. He has set himself against us, almost from the beginning,

counteracting us with our preachers, spiriting them up, poisoning,

proselyting them to his own wretched notions.

“2. He has withstood the utmost efforts both you and I have used to

make him our friend.

“3. He has stirred up persecution against us, and given such a wound

to the cause as may never be healed. For of all the prejudices,

bitterness, disaffection of both preachers and people, he is _et caput

et frons_. Unless he says Joseph Cownley corrupted him, and he his

brother Charles.

“4. To sum up all, and perpetuate his evil, he has sent forth his

‘Mitre,’ in open contradiction of all we have said, wrote, done

from the beginning. If we say, the Church of Christ and England are

but one, he says, the Church of Rome and England are but one. If we

condemn lay administering, he attempts to justify and prove it. What

Charles told Dr. Tucker, that he had not one sentiment in common with

the Church of England, Ted might say with equal truth.

“At Canterbury, I saw our Sacrament Hymns, which Ted has scratched

out and blotted, hardly leaving twenty entire lines. How can two walk

together except they be agreed? How can he pretend to labour with us?

He has no power over his own will or words. If, in a relenting fit, he

promises us to be quiet, his vanity soon betrays him again into his

old spirit and conversation.

“Let us try, with the help of God, whether we cannot hinder his doing

further mischief. Things are come to this, that we must conquer or be

conquered. My advice is: 1. That you write and insist upon his keeping

his promise to us, by calling in and destroying his book. If he will

part with that right eye, we may have some hope of him. 2. That he

settle to _something_. He is unwilling to break with us—(1) Because he

still in some sort loves us; (2) because he comes recommended by us to

all our friends. But his own soul can never recover while he wanders

from house to house in such a lounging way of life. Therefore, let

him go home to his wife, and do as much good and as little harm as he

can at Canterbury. Poor Mr. Lepine he had almost assimilated. I hope

your late visit has set him right. I will join you in your _kindest_

treatment of him; but make him not your companion or counsellor. Keep

your absolute superiority, by steady, serious love. The same behaviour

might suit his brother also. I have much more to say, but time and

paper fail. When do you expect that your Notes will be out? I am half

choked with a cold, yet setting out for the country. Farewell!