CHARLES WESLEY.”

“To Mr. Windsor, in King Street,

Tower Hill, London, for J. W. with speed.”

Thus was Wesley badgered. It certainly was strange, that one of the

fiercest attacks upon the Church of England, ever published, should

be written by a Methodist itinerant preacher; and that the preacher

should be the son of a man, who, at one time at least, was Wesley’s

most confidential friend, Vincent Perronet; and further, that the

writer should have lived on terms of the greatest intimacy with both

Wesley and his brother. The book contains not a little which cannot be

commended; but Charles Wesley’s opinion of its dulness and want of wit

is preposterously opposed to fact. Charles was in a terrible fever of

Church of England excitement; and all that he said and did, at this

momentous period of Methodistic history, must be taken _cum grano

salis_. Why Vincent Perronet was not consulted in these grave affairs

we are left to guess.

Charles Wesley was most anxious to have the present preachers ordained,

or otherwise attached to settled societies; and also to stop the

employment of additional itinerants, or, at all events, without

subjecting them to a most searching ordeal. On the other hand, his

brother continued to employ them as usual; and, during this very year

of 1756, called to the itinerant work five fresh labourers—William

Allwood, John Catermole, Robert Gillespy, Thomas Greaves, and Matthew

Lowes; while the only ones who left him were John Haughton, John

Maddern, and James Morris.[284] Many, indeed most, of his preachers

were without learning, but not without sense. They were thoroughly

converted; and, though destitute of other knowledge, knew the

Scriptures, and how to teach the gospel plan of salvation. In a letter,

written at the close of the Bristol conference, Wesley says:—

“BRISTOL, _August 31, 1756_.

... “A careless reader of the Address may think I make it necessary

for a minister to have much learning; and, thence, imagine I act

inconsistently; seeing many of our preachers have no learning at

all. But the answer is easy. First, I do not make any learning

necessary even for a minister,—the minister of a parish, who, as

such, undertakes single to guide and feed, to instruct and govern,

that whole flock,—but the knowledge of the Scriptures; although many

branches of learning are highly expedient for him. Secondly, these

preachers are not ministers; none of them undertakes single the care

of a whole flock; but ten, twenty, or thirty, one following and

helping another; and all, under the direction of my brother and me,

undertake jointly what (as I judge) no man in England is equal to

alone.”[285]

In another letter, to Mr. Norton, he writes thus.

“KINGSWOOD, _September 3, 1756_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—In your letters of July, and August 27, you charge

me first with _self inconsistency_, in tolerating lay preaching,

and not lay administering; and, secondly, with showing a spirit of

_persecution_, in denying my brethren the liberty of _acting_, as well

as _thinking_, according to their own _conscience_.

“As to the former charge, the fact alleged is true; but it is not

true, that I am _self inconsistent_ in so doing. I tolerate lay

preaching, because I conceive there is an absolute necessity for

it, inasmuch as, were it not, thousands of souls would perish

everlastingly; yet I do not tolerate _lay administering_, because I do

not conceive there is any such necessity for it; seeing it does not

appear, that, if this is not at all, one soul will perish for want of

it.

“As to the latter charge, I again allow the fact; but deny the

consequence. I mean, I allow the fact thus far; some of our preachers,

who are not ordained, think it quite right to administer the Lord’s

supper, and believe it would do much good. I think it quite wrong,

and believe it would do much hurt. Hereupon I say: ‘I have no right

over your conscience, nor you over mine; therefore, both you and I

must follow our own conscience. You believe it is a duty to administer

do so; and therein follow your own conscience. I verily believe it

is a sin; which consequently I dare not _tolerate_; and herein I

follow mine,’ Yet, this is no _persecution_, were I to separate from

our society, (which I have not done yet,) those who practise what I

believe is contrary to the word, and destructive of the work, of God.

“If John Jones, my brother, or any other preacher, has preached

sharply on this head, I certainly am a stranger to it, and therefore

not answerable for it. I persecute no man on this account, or any

other; and yet, I cannot _consent_, that any of our lay preachers

should either preach predestination, or administer the sacraments, to

those who are under my care.

“But after all this pother, What is this persecution, concerning which

you make so loud an outcry? Why, some of our lay preachers did what we

thought was both ill in itself, and likely to do much harm among the

people. Of this, complaint was made to me. And what did I do? Did I

expel those preachers out of the community? Not so. Did I forbid them

to preach any more? Not so neither. Did I degrade them from itinerant

to local preachers? Not so much as this. I told them, I thought the

thing was wrong, and would do hurt, and therefore _advised_ them to

do it no more. Certainly this is a _new_ species of _persecution_!

You might as well call it _murder_. I have used no _arbitrary_, no

_coercive_ power; nay, no power at all in this matter, but that of

love. I have given no man an ill word or an ill look on that account.

I have not withdrawn my confidence or my conversation from any. I have

dealt with every man as, if the tables were turned, I should desire he

would deal with me.

“I am, your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[286]

We add only one more extract on this subject.

“LONDON, _September 10, 1756_.

“REVEREND SIR,—Concerning diocesan episcopacy, there are several

questions I should be glad to have answered. 1. Where is it prescribed

in Scripture? How does it appear, that the apostles settled it in all

the churches they planted? How does it appear, that they settled it

in any, as to make it of perpetual obligation? It is allowed, ‘Christ

and His apostles did put the churches under some form of government

or other’; but, (1) Did they put all churches under the same precise

form? If they did, (2) Can we prove this to have been the very same

which now remains in the Church of England?

“I am very far from being ‘quite indifferent to any man’s opinions

in religion’; neither do I ‘conceal my sentiments.’ Few men less. I

have written severally, and printed, against deists, papists, mystics,

quakers, anabaptists, presbyterians, Calvinists, and antinomians. An

odd way of ingratiating myself with them! Nevertheless, in all things

indifferent, but not at the expense of truth, I rejoice to please all

men for their good to edification.

“I have humoured you, so as to dispute with you a little; but with

what probability of success? What man of threescore (unless perchance

one in an age) was ever _convinced_ of anything? Is not an old man’s

motto, _Non persuadebis etiamsi persuaseris_? When we are past middle

age, does not a kind of stiffness and inflexibility steal upon the

mind as well as the body? And how does this bar the gate against all

conviction! O sir, what an idle thing is it for you to dispute about

lay preachers! Is not a lay preacher preferable to a drunken preacher?

to a cursing, swearing preacher?

“Yours, etc.,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[287]

These are long extracts; perhaps, in the opinion of some, too long;

but it must be borne in mind, that the subject of lay preaching, and

of separation from the Established Church, was one of the weightiest

questions with which Wesley had to deal. For nearly fifty years, it

occasioned him the utmost anxiety. Besides, there is no point upon

which he has been more misunderstood than this. It is one which excites

more interest now than it did even a century ago. It is high time that

the controversy was settled. To help in doing this, we have collected

all the facts with which we are acquainted. They have been stated with

the utmost honesty. Comment would be easy; it is even tempting; but

the reader can form his own opinions on the facts presented, and can

comment for himself. All must agree, however, that Wesley was very far

from being as rigid a Churchman as was his brother Charles, and as the

clergy of the present day wish us to believe. This is a subject which

will, again and again, demand attention.

On September 6, Wesley left Bristol for London, where he continued

reading, writing, publishing, and preaching till the year was ended.

Two days were spent in, what he calls, “settling his temporal

business,” the result of which was the following entry in his journal:

“It is now about eighteen years since I begun writing and printing

books; and how much in that time have I gained by printing? Why, on

summing up my accounts, I found that, on March 1, 1756, I had gained,

by printing and preaching together, a debt of £1236.”

On September 10, he writes: “I preached at a famous place, commonly

called ‘The Bull and Mouth meeting’; which had belonged, I suppose,

near a hundred years, to the people called Quakers. As much of real

religion as was ever preached there, I trust will be preached there

still; and perhaps in a more rational, scriptural, and intelligible

manner.”

A month later, he says: “I preached to a huge multitude in Moorfields,

on ‘Why will ye die, O house of Israel?’ It is field preaching which

does the execution still; for usefulness there is none comparable to

it.”

Among other books, he read the following: “The case of Marriages

between near Kindred particularly considered, with respect to the

Doctrine of Scripture, the Law of Nature, and the Laws of England.” By

John Fry. 8vo, 146 pages. “It is,” says he, “the best tract I ever read

upon the subject; I suppose the best that is extant. And two points, I

think, he has fully proved: (1) That many marriages, commonly supposed

to be unlawful, are neither contrary to the law of nature, nor the

revealed law of God, nor the law of the land. (2) That ecclesiastical

courts have no right to meddle with any case of this kind.” Twenty-nine

years afterwards, Wesley read the same work again, and wrote: “I wonder

it is not more known, as there is nothing on the head like it in the

English tongue. I still think, he has proved, to a demonstration, that

no marriages are forbidden, either by the law of God or of England,

but those of brothers and sisters, and those in the ascending and

descending line.” Wesley’s opinion on this subject is not without

interest, especially at the present day, when discussion is rife

respecting the propriety of repealing the law of the land which renders

null and void the marriage of a man to his deceased wife’s sister.

Fry was strongly in favour of such marriages, and Wesley endorsed the

soundness of his arguments. In doing that, Wesley showed that, rather

than sacrifice what he considered right and true, he was willing to be

branded as a heterodox son of that church, which, by “the most reverend

father in God, Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury,” had issued an

“Admonition,” prohibiting all matrimonial alliances of this description.

Another book he read was Voltaire’s “Henriade.” He remarks: “Voltaire

is a very lively writer, of a fine imagination; and allowed, I suppose,

by all competent judges, to be a perfect master of the French language;

and, by him, I am more than ever convinced, that the French is the

poorest, meanest language in Europe; that it is no more comparable

to the German or Spanish, than a bagpipe is to an organ; and that,

with regard to poetry in particular, considering the incorrigible

uncouthness of their measure, and their always writing in rhyme, it is

as impossible to write a fine poem in French, as to make fine music

upon a jew’s harp.”

Wesley also read a “Dissertation in Defence of the Hebrew Points,” by

Leusden, the eminent professor of Hebrew and Jewish antiquities at

Utrecht, and says: “I was fully convinced, there is, at least, as much

to be said on this as on the other side of the question. But how is it,

that men are so positive on both sides, while demonstration is to be

had on neither?”

The reading of Leusden was, doubtless, intended as a preparation for

the reading of another author, whose works were then attracting great

attention. John Hutchinson was born at Spennythorn, in Yorkshire,

in 1674. He was a man of undoubted genius; and, among other things,

invented a chronometer, for the discovery of the longitude at sea, an

instrument which obtained the approbation of Sir Isaac Newton. He is

chiefly known, however, as the founder of a system of theology and

philosophy, based on a fanciful etymology of Hebrew words. He held,

that the Old Testament Scriptures were written in Hebrew without

points; that this was the language of paradise; and that every

Hebrew root has some important meaning, and is designed to signify

spiritual and mental things. In this way, Hutchinson turned history

into prophecy, and made Scripture sentences to mean what they were

never meant to mean, and what they were incapable of meaning. He died

in 1737; and, in 1748, his ingenious but fanciful productions were

published in twelve volumes octavo, and obtained not a few admirers,

including, among others, Dr. Samuel Clarke and Bishop Horne.

For some reason, Wesley began to read Mr. Hutchinson’s philosophy

with all the itinerant preachers at that time assembled in London;

but says, he was not able to admire either “his sense or his spirit.

His hypothesis was unsupported by Scripture; very ingenious, but

quite precarious. When Dr. Bentley published his Greek Testament, one

remarked: ‘Pity but he would publish the Old; then we should have

two New Testaments!’ It is done. Those who receive Mr. Hutchinson’s

emendations certainly have two New Testaments! In order to learn all

I could from his works, I read over the Glasgow abridgment with Mr.

Thomas Walsh, the best Hebrean I ever knew. I never asked him the

meaning of a Hebrew word but he would tell me how often it occurred

in the Bible, and what it meant in each place! We both observed, that

Mr. Hutchinson’s whole scheme is built upon etymologies; the most

uncertain foundation in the world. We observed, secondly, that, if the

points be allowed, all his building sinks at once; and, thirdly, that,

setting them aside, many of his etymologies are forced and unnatural.

Mr. Hutchinson affirms, the points were invented by the Masorites,

only thirteen or fourteen hundred years ago, in order to destroy the

sense of Scripture. I doubt this: who can prove it? Who can prove they

were not as old as Ezra, if not coeval with the language? Let any one

give a fair reading only to what Dr. Cornelius Bayley has offered in

the preface to his Hebrew Grammar, and he will be as sick of reading

without the points as I am.”[288]

During his autumnal sojourn in the metropolis, Wesley took to task the

editor of the _Monthly Review_, for “jumbling together, and condemning

by the lump, the whole body of people called Methodists,” the Moravians

being bound up in the branded bundle. He also wrote a long letter,

under the date of October 15, to his old friend Mr. Hervey, pointing

out the excellencies and defects of his “Dialogues between Theron and

Aspasio.” “In the first dialogue, there are several just and strong

observations, which may be of use to every serious reader.” “The

description in the second is often too laboured, and the language too

stiff and affected; but the reflections on the creation make abundant

amends for this.” “The third and fourth dialogues contain an admirable

illustration and confirmation of the great doctrine of Christ’s

satisfaction; yet there are a few passages liable to exception.” In the

fifth and sixth dialogues, the author unnecessarily contends for the

imputation of Christ’s righteousness. “The seventh and eighth are full

of important truths”; but contain sentiments and expressions to which

Wesley cannot yield assent. “The ninth proves excellently well, that we

cannot be justified by our works.” The tenth contains several passages

to which he takes exception. The eleventh proves, by irrefragable

arguments, the doctrine of original sin, and has not a single sentence

liable to objection. “The twelfth, likewise, is unexceptionable; and

contains,” says he, “such an illustration of the wisdom of God in the

structure of the human body, as, I believe, cannot be paralleled in

either ancient or modern writers.” “The former part of the thirteenth

dialogue is admirable;” to the latter he had some objection.

In the same style and spirit, he criticises the “Letters,” and thus

concludes his critique, which fills eighteen printed pages.

“Upon the whole, I cannot but wish, that the plan of these dialogues

had been executed in a different manner. Most of the grand truths of

Christianity are herein both explained and proved with great strength

and clearness. Why was anything intermixed which could prevent any

serious Christian’s recommending them to all mankind? anything which

must necessarily render them exceptionable to so many thousands of

the children of God? In practical writings, I studiously abstain from

the very shadow of controversy. Nay, even in controversial, I do not

willingly write one line, to which any but my opponent would object.

For opinions, shall I destroy the work of God? Then am I a bigot

indeed. Much more, if I would not drop any mode of expression rather

than offend either Jew, or Gentile, or the church of God.

“I am, with sincerity, dear sir,

“Your affectionate brother and servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[289]

Hervey did not reply to this, but, a few years later, Wesley’s

letter led to great unpleasantness, which will have to be introduced

hereafter. Hervey died in 1758. Wesley lost one friend, but gained

another, in some respects his superior. John Fletcher wrote to him,

on November 24, 1756, as his “spiritual guide,” asking his advice

respecting his entering into orders. He tells him that, seven years

ago, when first converted, he resolved to dedicate himself to

the service of the church, and prosecuted study with that design.

Feeling himself, however, unequal to the burden of ministerial

responsibilities, and “disgusted by the necessity he should be under

to subscribe to the doctrine of predestination, he yielded to the

desire of his friends, who wished him to go into the army.” The

disappointments with which he met occasioned his leaving Switzerland,

and coming to England. “Here he was thrice called outwardly to enter

into orders”; but had hitherto been prevented. Six weeks ago, a

gentleman had offered him a living, and a clergyman a title. The living

he intended to decline, as, he thought, he “could preach with more

fruit in his own country and in his own tongue”; but he wishes Wesley

to decide for him, “whether he can and must make use of the offered

title to go into orders. I know,” says he, “how precious is your time.

I desire no long answer; _persist_, or _forbear_, will satisfy and

influence, sir, your unworthy servant, JOHN FLETCHER.”[290]

Wesley said, “Persist,” and, within four months afterwards, the

young Swiss, in the twenty-eighth year of his age, was ordained, at

Whitehall, London; and, “on the same day, being informed that Wesley

had no one to help him at West Street chapel, he left as soon as the

ordination was over, and assisted him in the administration of the

Lord’s supper.”[291] Wesley writes: “How wonderful are the ways of

God! When my bodily strength failed, and none in England were able

and willing to assist me, He sent me help from the mountains of

Switzerland; and a helpmeet for me in every respect: where could I have

found such another?”

Thus began the lifelong friendship of these distinguished men; and thus

commenced the renowned ministry of the vicar of Madeley.

On the 13th of December, 1756, young Fletcher sent to Wesley a most

interesting letter, of which the following is an extract.

“SIR,—Whenever I have received the sacrament in your chapels, though I

admired the order and decency observed, I thought there was something

wanting, which might make that awful part of the Divine worship still

more profitable and solemn.

“As the number of communicants is generally very great, the time spent

in receiving is long enough for many to feel their devotion languish

for want of outward fuel. In order to prevent this, you interrupt,

from time to time, the service of the table, to put up a short prayer,

or to sing a verse or two of a hymn; and I do not doubt but many have

found the benefit of that method. But as you can spare very little

time, you are obliged to be satisfied with scattering these few drops,

instead of a continual rain. Sir, would not this want be easily

supplied, if you were to appoint the preachers, who may be present,

to do what you cannot possibly do yourself, to pray and sing without

interruption, as at a watch night?

“I take the liberty of giving you this hint, because you said lately

in the society, that you heard willingly the observations of your

people, and were ready to follow or improve them, if they were just or

reasonable.

“I am, sir, your unworthy servant,

“JOHN FLETCHER.”[292]

Nothing now remains but to briefly notice Wesley’s publications in

1756. They were as follows.

1. “An Extract of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Journal, from July 20,

1749, to October 30, 1751.” 12mo, 107 pages.

2. “A Treatise on Baptism,” dated November 11, 1756. This was his

father’s “Short Discourse on Baptism,” published in 1700. It is

true, that Wesley has _slightly_ abridged and verbally altered his

father’s work, but that is all; and yet he makes not the least

reference whatever to its original author. In these days of sacramental

controversy, it is only fair to give an extract.

“By baptism, we, who were ‘by nature children of wrath,’ are made

the children of God. And this regeneration, which our Church, in so

many places, ascribes to baptism, is more than barely being admitted

into the church, though commonly connected therewith; being ‘grafted

into the body of Christ’s church, we are made the children of God by

adoption and grace.’ This is grounded on the plain words of our Lord:

‘Except a man be born again of water and of the Spirit, he cannot

enter into the kingdom of God.’ By water then, as a means, the water

of baptism, we are regenerated or born again. Herein a principle of

grace is infused, which will not be wholly taken away, unless we

quench the Holy Spirit of God by long continued wickedness.”

This is strong, and somewhat startling language, and yet not really

stronger than Wesley uses in his sermon on the New Birth: “It is

certain our Church supposes, that all who are baptized in their infancy

are, at the same time, born again; and it is allowed, that the whole

Office for the Baptism of Infants proceeds upon this supposition.

Nor is it an objection of any weight against this, that we cannot

comprehend how this work can be wrought in infants. For neither can

we comprehend how it is wrought in a person of riper years.”[293] It

is true, that, in the same sermon, Wesley lays it down, that “baptism

and the new birth are not one and the same thing, the one being an

external, and the other an internal work”; and he also asserts, that

“it is sure all of riper years who are baptized are not at the same

time born again”; but, in reference to infants, he unquestionably held

the high church doctrine of his father. It is no part of our proposed

task either to justify or to condemn this opinion; our sole object is

honestly to relate facts.

3. “The Good Soldier, extracted from a Sermon preached to a company

of volunteers raised in Virginia, August 17, 1755.” 12mo, 16 pages.

The publication was doubtless occasioned by the threatened invasion

of England, by the French, at the beginning of the year, when Wesley

himself proposed to raise “for his majesty’s service a body of at least

two hundred volunteers.”

4. “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. Law, occasioned by some of his late

writings.” 8vo, 102 pages. This has never been entirely reprinted, an

extract only being given in Wesley’s collected works.

Strangely enough, William Law,—a man of almost unequalled power

and eloquence,—had become a Behmenite. Jacob Behmen, the “German

theosophist,” was born of poor parents, in 1575. At the age of ten,

he was apprenticed to a shoemaker; at nineteen, he became a master,

and was married. At twenty-five, he fell into a trance, which lasted

for seven days, and afforded him an intuitive vision of God. This was

followed by others, in which his spirit was carried to the inmost world

of nature, and was enabled to penetrate through the outward forms of

bodies into their inward essences. At the age of thirty-seven, he

began to publish his mysteries. He died in 1624, aged forty-nine. It is

impossible, in a work like this, to give even the merest outline of the

enthusiastic conceptions, visions, and revelations of this inventive

German genius,—a motley mixture of mystical jargon, a jumble of

astrological, philosophical, chemical, and theological extravagances,

which he himself acknowledges no one can understand except those who

have obtained illumination like his own. William Law was one of his

warmest admirers, and had already published an English edition of his

works in two vols., quarto.

This melancholy fact will account for the severity of Wesley’s

language in the letter he addressed to Law in 1756. Wesley begins by

stating, that “there are few writers in the present age, who stand in

any comparison with Mr. Law, as to beauty and strength of language;

readiness, liveliness, and copiousness of thought; and, in many points,

accuracy of sentiment.” He acknowledges, that Law had “long employed

his uncommon abilities, not to gain either honour or preferment, but to

promote the glory of God, and peace and goodwill among men.” “Several

of his treatises, particularly his ‘Christian Perfection,’ and ‘Serious

Call,’ must remain, as long as England stands, almost unequalled

standards of the strength and purity of the English language, as well

as of sound, practical divinity”; and had been of immense service “in

reviving and establishing true, rational, scriptural religion” among

the people. Some of his late writings, however, were not of this

meritorious order; and these Wesley proceeds to criticise. Law once

said to Wesley, “You would have a philosophical religion; but there

can be no such thing. Religion is the most plain, simple thing in the

world. It is only, ‘We love Him, because He first loved us.’ So far

as you add philosophy to religion, just so far you spoil it.” Wesley

now retorts, and tells him there is no “writer in England, who so

continually blends philosophy with religion” as himself; and, to make

things worse, his philosophy is “uncertain, dangerous, irrational, and

unscriptural.” “Bad philosophy, by insensible degrees, paves the way

for bad divinity.” He had also done Jacob Behmen “an irreparable injury

by dragging him out of his awful obscurity, and by pouring light upon

his venerable darkness. Men,” says he, “may admire the deepness of

the well, and the excellence of the water it contains; but, if some

officious person puts a light into it, it will appear to be both very

shallow and very dirty.” He concludes:—

“I have now delivered my own soul. And I have used great plainness of

speech; such as I could not have prevailed on myself to use to one

whom I so much respect, on any other occasion. Oh that your latter

works may be more and greater than your first! Surely they would,

if you could ever be persuaded to study, instead of the writings of

Tauler and Behmen, those of St. Paul, James, Peter, and John; to spew

out of your mouth and out of your heart that vain philosophy, and

speak neither higher nor lower things, neither more nor less, than the

oracles of God; to renounce, despise, abhor all the highflown bombast,

all the unintelligible jargon of the mystics, and come back to the

plain religion of the Bible, ‘We love Him, because He first loved us.’”

This was strong language to employ to a man like William Law, who held

Jacob Behmen, the Crispin theosophist, in amazing admiration; but

it was not unmerited. Whitefield pronounced Wesley’s letter “a most

ungentlemanlike, injudicious, unchristian piece”;[294] but Whitefield

was not so well acquainted with the Behmenite fooleries as Wesley was.

Law himself was annoyed and angry, but declined to answer Wesley’s

critique, on the ground, that it did “not admit of a serious answer,

because there was nothing substantial or properly argumentative in it;

and to answer it, in the way of ridicule,” was a thing to which he was

unconquerably averse. “Mr. Wesley,” says he, “is an ingenious man,

and the reason why his letter to me is such a juvenile composition of

emptiness and pertness, is because it was not ability, but necessity,

that put his pen into his hand. He had condemned my books, preached

much against them, and forbad his people the use of them. And, for a

cover to all this, he promised, from time to time, to write against

them. Therefore, an answer was to be made at all adventures.[295] I was

once a kind of oracle with him; and I never suspected anything bad of

him, or ever discovered any kind or degree of falseness in him; but,

during all the time of his intimacy with me, I judged him to be much

under the power of his own spirit. Still, whatever you hear of Mr. John

Wesley concerning me, or my books, let it die with you; and wish him

God speed in everything that is good.”[296]

Here the controversy between Wesley and this exceedingly able and

godly, though mistaken, man terminated. Five years afterwards, Mr. Law

exchanged this world, where the wisest sees “through a glass, darkly,”

for a higher world, where all “see face to face.”

5. The last of Wesley’s publications, in 1756, which we have to notice,

was not the least important, though an octavo tract of only thirty

pages. The title was, “An Address to the Clergy.” While addressed to

the clergy of the Church of England especially, it was also addressed

to all of every denomination, whom God had “called to watch over souls,

as they that must give account.” First of all, Wesley considers what

ministers ought to be, in gifts as well as in grace, 1. A minister

ought to have a good understanding. 2. Some liveliness and readiness

of thought. 3. A good memory. 4. Knowledge of his own office; of the

Scriptures; of Hebrew and Greek; of profane history; of the sciences,

including logic; of metaphysics; of natural philosophy; of geometry;

of the fathers. 5. Common sense. 6. Good breeding. 7. A strong, clear,

musical voice, and a good delivery. In reference to grace, Wesley

contends that a minister must have: (1) A single intention to glorify

God, and to save souls; (2) an eminent measure of love to God, and

to all his brethren; (3) he must be an example to his flock, in his

private and public character.

The second part of the pamphlet is devoted to the inquiry, Are

ministers what they ought to be? Wesley strongly denounces the old

adage: “The boy, if he is fit for nothing else, will do well enough

for a parson.” Acting upon this had introduced “dull, heavy, blockish

ministers; the jest of every pert fool, and of every airy coxcomb that

they met.” Men entering the ministry for honour, or for income, are

pronounced many degrees beneath Simon Magus, who instead of seeking

the gift of God to get money, offered money to obtain the gift. “What

a creature,” he writes, “is a covetous, an ambitious, a luxurious,

an indolent, a diversion loving clergyman! Is it any wonder that

infidelity should increase, where any of these are found?”

In the publication of this pamphlet, Wesley probably aimed at a twofold

object:—1. To give a new impulse to the Church of England, to awaken

its dormant zeal, to infuse life into its lifeless ministers; and thus

prevent the necessity of a separation. 2. To curb the ambition of his

own lay preachers, by setting before them a ministerial standard, of

which, in some respects, most of them fell immeasurably short. Was this

object realised? This is a question which succeeding chapters will help

to answer. At present, it is only fair to add, that it is somewhat

difficult to reconcile Wesley’s pamphlet with Wesley’s letter already

given, bearing date, August 31, 1756.

Wesley’s “Address to the Clergy” was not left to pass unchallenged.

William Law, still smarting from Wesley’s castigation, remarks in a

letter, dated April 10, 1757: “Wesley’s Babylonish ‘Address to the

Clergy’ is empty babble, fitter for an old grammarian, who has grown

blear eyed in mending dictionaries, than for one who has tasted the

powers of the world to come, and has found the truth as it is in

Jesus.”[297] Alas! William Law!

An unknown clergyman also issued a sixpenny pamphlet, entitled, “A

Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, occasioned by his Address to the

Clergy. By one of the Clergy.” The writer accuses Wesley of spiritual

pride and presumption, and adduces extracts to support his charge;

but, in all other respects, the production is unimportant. Another

tract, however, of the same size, was published a few months later,

and is more puzzling. “An Expostulatory Letter to the Rev. Mr. John

Wesley, occasioned by his Address to the Clergy,” begins thus:—“We,

W. B., G. C., J. M., etc., do, in behalf of ourselves and many

others, who, by your appointment, instigation, or encouragement, have

undertaken to preach the gospel of Christ, beg leave, in the spirit of

meekness and love, to expostulate with you.” And then these pretending

disciples proceed very shrewdly to attack, not only the “Address,” but

likewise Wesley’s late translation of the New Testament. Was this a

genuine production? We cannot tell. If not spurious, it was of great

importance.

1757.

[Sidenote: 1757 Age 54]

In 1757, Charles Wesley seems to have ceased, to a great extent, to

itinerate as a Methodist preacher. His journeys became less frequent

and extensive, till his ministrations were chiefly confined to

Bristol and London, with occasional visits to some intermediate and

surrounding places. Why was this? The answer must be conjectural. It

is a curious fact, that no document in his handwriting, bearing the

date of 1757, is known to be in existence; nor even the fragment of a

letter, of the same period, addressed to him by his brother. Some have

attributed the cessation of his itinerancy to his marriage; and there

is doubtless some truth in this. A regard for the feelings and society

of his noble wife, with the care of his infant children, probably

contributed to the change which now took place;[298] but the principal

cause of his settling down was, unquestionably, the state of feeling

which existed in many of the societies and preachers with regard to

the Established Church. His brother thought, that separation was

_inexpedient_, but could not regard it in the heinous light in which

it appeared to Charles. Wesley was inclined to treat the disaffected

with gentleness and persuasiveness; Charles was for the adoption of

strong and compulsory measures. Their policy was different, and this

was an obvious difficulty. Charles could not visit the societies as a

mere friend, or as one of the ordinary preachers. He must appear as

possessing a co-ordinate authority with his brother; and, their views

being so widely different, it became impossible for them to regulate

the societies in perfect concert. Hence, he doubtless thought it best

to exercise a more settled ministry, and to leave the people and the

preachers generally in the hands of John. Still, to the end of life, he

retained his union with the Methodists, and rendered important service,

though in a more limited sphere than he had been wont to occupy. The

effect of his retirement, so far as he was personally concerned,

was the reverse of favourable. His mind was naturally of a somewhat

melancholy cast; but, amid the excitement of the itinerancy, he had no

time to indulge in morbid feeling. When he ceased to travel, he was

at leisure to cherish his gloomy forebodings. Croakers and busybodies

tormented him with letters, complaining of the ambition of the

preachers, and of the alienation of the people from the Church. Often

was he in agonies of fear lest the Methodists should become Dissenters;

while his brother was as happy as an angel, flying through the three

kingdoms, sounding the trumpet of the world’s jubilee, and joyfully

witnessing, every successive year, the steady advancement of the work

of God.[299]

Whitefield spent about half of the year 1757 in the metropolis, and the

remainder in evangelistic tours in England, Scotland, and Ireland. He

preached fifty times, in twenty-five days, in the city of Edinburgh;

attended the sittings of the General Assembly of the Church of

Scotland; and, by invitation, dined with the lord high commissioner.

In Dublin he was well-nigh murdered. Attended by a soldier and four

Methodist preachers, he repaired to Oxmanton Green, near the barracks,

and sang, prayed, and preached, with no further molestation than the

throwing of a few stones and clods. It being a time of war, he exhorted

the people “not only to fear God, but to honour the best of kings, and

then prayed for success to the _Prussian arms_.” On leaving the ground,

“hundreds and hundreds of papists” surrounded him; volleys of stones

were thrown at him; and, at every step he took, a fresh stone struck

him, till he was red with blood. For a while, his strong beaver hat

served to protect his head; but this, at last, was lost in the affray.

Blows and wounds were multiplied; and, every moment, he expected, like

Stephen, “to go off in this bloody triumph to the immediate presence

of his Master.” Providentially, the door of a minister’s house was

opened, and here he found a temporary refuge. On entering, he was

speechless, but gradually revived, when the minister’s wife desired

his absence, fearing that his presence would lead to the destruction

of her dwelling. What to do he knew not, being nearly two miles from

Wesley’s home for preachers. At length, a carpenter offered him his

wig and coat to disguise himself; but, just at the same moment, a

Methodist preacher and two other friends, brought a coach. “I leaped

into it,” he writes, “and rode in gospel triumph, through the oaths,

curses, and imprecations of whole streets of papists. The weeping,

mourning, but now joyful Methodists received me with inconceivable

affection; a Christian surgeon dressed my wounds; and then I went into

the preaching place, and joined in a hymn of praise and thanksgiving

to Him, who stills the noise of the waves, and the madness of the most

malignant people. Next morning, I set out for Portarlington, and left

my persecutors to His mercy, who out of persecutors hath often made

preachers.”[300]

This was barbarous treatment, and suggests a sad idea of the political

and religious bitterness of Irish papists a hundred years ago. Poor

Ireland! Whitefield declares, that, so far as he could learn, there was

not a single minister in the whole of Ireland, either among Churchmen

or Dissenters, who was faithfully and boldly witnessing for God and

Christ.[301]

Wesley spent the first two months of 1757 in London, where, including

the sacrament, one of his sabbath services usually lasted for about

five successive hours. In fact, he considered his sabbath work, in

London, equal to preaching eight sermons.

At the end of February, he paid a brief visit to Norwich, and made

arrangements for the rebuilding of the Foundery, which the Norwich

Methodists were using as a meeting-house, an unknown friend having

given him money enough for that purpose.

After returning to London, he and Thomas Walsh visited the Methodist

soldiers at Canterbury; and also made a preaching excursion to

Beaconsfield and to High Wycombe. On Monday, the 11th of April, he held

a covenant service at Spitalfields, at which twelve hundred Methodists

met him, and which lasted for above five hours. Next morning, he set

out on a four months’ tour to the north of England.

His first halting place was Bedford; where the mayor of the town, Mr.

Parker, was his host. Mr. Parker, we believe, was the first Methodist

that ever filled the chair of a chief magistrate. Wesley writes:

“Mr. Parker hath not borne the sword in vain. There is no cursing or

swearing heard in the streets of Bedford; no work done on the Lord’s

day; indeed, no open wickedness of any kind.” For about forty years

this mayor of Bedford was an “artless,” but useful local preacher. He

was a nursing father to the Bedford Methodists; a fine example of good

works to all who knew him; and triumphantly went to heaven, in 1785, at

the age of eighty.

From Bedford, Wesley proceeded to Leicester, Birmingham, Dudley,

Nantwich, Chester, and Liverpool. At the last mentioned town, James

Scholefield, an expelled itinerant, had swept away half the society

by telling “lies innumerable.” It was probably this first Liverpool

division which induced Wesley to spend nearly a fortnight in the town

and neighbourhood. He was introduced to Mr. Peter Whitefield, a man

of strong understanding, whose “Dissertation in Defence of the Hebrew

Points” Wesley considered the best that he ever read. He also had an

interview with a novel kind of husband, “who, by the advice of his

pastor, had, very calmly and deliberately, beaten his wife with a large

stick, till she was black and blue, almost from head to foot.” The man

insisted, that it was his duty to do this, because his wife “was surly

and ill natured; and, that he was full of faith all the time he was

doing it, and had been so ever since.”

From Liverpool, Wesley went to Warrington and to Manchester. He then

rode over the mountains to Huddersfield, and says: “A wilder people I

never saw in England. The men, women, and children filled the street

as we rode along, and appeared just ready to devour us. They were,

however, tolerably quiet while I preached; only a few pieces of dirt

were thrown, and the bellman came in the middle of the sermon. I had

almost done when they began to ring the bells.” The next few days were

spent at Bradford, Birstal, Halifax, Heptonstall, Ewood, and Gawksham.

Gawksham was “a lone house, on the side of an enormous mountain, where

the congregation stood and sat, row above row, in the sylvan theatre.”

“I believe,” says Wesley, “nothing on the postdiluvian earth can be

more pleasant than the road from hence, between huge, steep mountains,

clothed with wood to the top, and washed at the bottom by a clear,

winding stream.” At the “lone house,” in this grandly picturesque

region, there was, in 1763, a society of forty-seven members, one of

whom was David Lacy, who, as a young man, had been turned out of doors

by his father, for becoming a Methodist, and, who, in his leisure

hours, made besoms in order to save money to pay his pence at class.

David became a leader, retained his Christian simplicity to the end,

and died, possessed of considerable wealth, in 1803, at the advanced

age of eighty-three.[302]

Leaving Gawksham, Wesley went to Padiham, and preached to “a large,

wild congregation.” One of his wild auditors was Robert Worsick, whose

grandmother ran after Wesley, brandishing an axe, and threatening she

would kill him. A chapel was built the year after, the trustees of

which were Grimshaw, the incumbent of Haworth, and James Hunter and

Jonas Moor, who were weavers.[303]

At Bingley, Wesley had the genteelest congregation he had lately seen.

At Haworth, he had to preach in the churchyard, the congregation

being three times larger than the church would hold; while, at the

sacramental service following, he and Grimshaw had nearly a thousand

communicants. After this, he hurried off to Whitehaven, Cockermouth,

and Wigton. In a letter to his friend Blackwell, he writes:—

“WHITEHAVEN, _May 28, 1757_.

“DEAR SIR,—In every place, people flock about me for direction in

secular as well as spiritual affairs; and I dare not throw even this

burden off my shoulders, though I have employment enough without it.

But it is a burden, and no burden; it is no incumbrance, no weight

upon my mind. If we see God in all things, and do all for Him, then

all things are easy. I think it is fourteen or fifteen days since my

wife wrote to me. I am afraid she is not well.

“I am, dear sir, your most affectionate servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[304]

Wesley now proceeded to Glasgow, where he was welcomed by Mr. Gillies,

and preached in the yard of the poorhouse. He “met the members of the

praying societies, and earnestly advised them to meet Mr. Gillies every

week; and, at their other meetings, not to talk loosely and generally

(as their manner had been) on some head of religion, but to examine

each other’s hearts and lives.”

At Musselburgh, he was the guest of Bailiff Lindsey, and preached

in the poorhouse; two thirds of the society “knew in whom they had

believed”; and between forty and fifty dragoons were present.

He found a small society at Dunbar, and went into the street, “and

began speaking to a congregation of two men and two women,” which was

“soon joined by about twenty little children, and, not long after, by a

large number of young and old.”

At Kelso, he and William Coward, “a wise and good man,” who died in

1770, and for whom Wesley preached a funeral sermon, went to the

market-house, but “neither man, woman, nor child came near them.”

At length, Wesley began singing a Scotch psalm; in due time, a

congregation gathered; Wesley used “keen and cutting expressions,” and

says: “I believe many felt, for all their form, they were but heathens

still.”

He now made his way towards Newcastle. He writes: “About noon, I stood

in the street at Wooler; and I might stand; for no creature came near

me, till I had sung part of a psalm. Then a row of children stood

before me; and, in some time, about a hundred men and women. I spoke

full as plain as I did at Kelso; and pharisees themselves are not out

of God’s reach.”

At Alnwick, the courthouse was too small for his congregation, and

he was obliged to go into the market-place. “O what a difference,”

he remarks, “between these living stones, and the dead, unfeeling

multitudes in Scotland!”

Coming to Placey, he writes: “The society of colliers here may be a

pattern to all the societies in England. No person ever misses his band

or class; they have no jar of any kind among them; but, with one heart

and one mind, provoke one another to love and to good works. After

preaching, I met the society in a room as warm as any in Georgia.”

At Sunderland, he told the society “none could stay with us, unless

he would part with all sin; particularly robbing the king, selling or

buying smuggled goods; which he could no more suffer, than robbing

on the highway.” “A few would not promise to refrain”; these were

expelled; “but about two hundred and fifty were of a better mind.”

At Chester-le-street, observing “some very fine, but not very modest,

pictures, in the parlour” where he supped, he desired his companion

to put them where they could do no hurt; and, accordingly, they were

“piled on a heap in a corner of the room.”

Having spent three weeks at Newcastle and in the neighbourhood, he

started on the 4th of July for London.

At Durham, he preached in a meadow, near the river, to a congregation

“large and wild.” At Hartlepool, he found, that the Rev. William

Romaine “had been the instrument of awakening several; but, for want of

help, they soon slept again.” At Stockton, he preached in the street,

and “none but two or three gentlemen seemed unconcerned.” At Yarm,

he preached near the market-place. “Many gentry were there, and all

serious.” “I find,” says he, “in all these parts, a solid, serious

people, quite simple of heart, strangers to various opinions, and

seeking only the faith that worketh by love.” On July 6, he preached at

Osmotherley, where the rustic society, according to their old account

book, were put to the enormous expense of half-a-crown “for Mr. John

Wesley, William Fugill, and Michael Fenwick.” From Osmotherley, he

“rode through one of the pleasantest parts of England to Hawnby,” where

the zealous landlord had turned all the Methodists out of their houses.

“This,” says he, “proved a singular kindness; for they built some

little houses at the end of the town, in which forty or fifty of them

live together.” One of these was William Hewgill, the grandfather of

the eloquent and popular Rev. John Bumby; a most worthy man, who with

a few of the ostracised Methodists walked sixty miles to Newcastle to

hear Wesley preach, and at whose invitation he now came to the moorland

village in which they dwelt.

Proceeding to Robinhood’s Bay, Wesley preached to “the greatest part

of the town; and all, except one or two, who were very wise in their

own eyes, seemed to receive the truth in love.” The next three days

were the hottest he ever knew in England. At Slingsby, he met with

a clergyman, an old acquaintance of his father’s; the congregation

was attentive, none making disturbance, except one poor drunkard. At

York, he set a subscription on foot for building a more commodious

room in Peasholm Green, which he afterwards opened, in April, 1759,

Dr. Cockburn, an old schoolfellow, residing in Aldwark, but not a

Methodist, giving £100.[305] At Pocklington, he preached in the

street; a large mob assembled; and, for “fear they should not make

noise enough, the good churchwarden hired men to ring the bells.” At

Epworth, he “preached in the market-place to a listening multitude;”

at Laceby, in a meadow; and, at Grimsby, in the new meeting-house just

finished. At Misterton, he preached to the largest congregation he had

seen since he left Newcastle; and “all behaved with deep seriousness,

except a baptist preacher.” At Clayworth, “none were unmoved, but

Michael Fenwick; who fell fast asleep under an adjoining hayrick.” At

Rotherham, he addressed the largest congregation that Rotherham had

ever witnessed. At Sheffield, he wrote: “How quiet is this country

now, since the chief persecutors are no more seen! How many of them

have been snatched away in an hour when they looked not for it! Some

time since, a woman of Thorpe often swore she would wash her hands in

the heart’s blood of the next preacher that came. But, before the next

preacher came, she was carried to her long home. A little before John

Johnson settled at Wentworth, a stout, healthy man, who lived there,

told his neighbours: ‘After May-day we shall have nothing but praying

and preaching; but I will make noise enough to stop it.’ But before

May-day he was silent in his grave. A servant of Lord R—— was as bitter

as he, and told many lies purposely to make mischief: but, before

this was done, his mouth was stopped. He was drowned in one of the

fishponds.”

On reaching London, Wesley at once held his annual conference, which

continued from the 4th to the 11th of August. “From the first hour to

the last,” says he, “there was no jarring string, but all was harmony

and love.” This is all that is known of the conference of 1757, except

that the Church question was again discussed. Hence the following

letters, written soon after. The first was addressed to the Rev. Mr.

Walker, of Truro, “on his advising Wesley to give up the Methodist

societies to their several ministers.”

“HELSTONE, _September 16, 1757_.

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—Nothing can be more kind than the mentioning

what you think is amiss in my conduct. The more freedom you use in

doing this, the more I am indebted to you.

“Two years since, eleven or twelve persons of Falmouth were members

of our society. Last year, I was informed, that a young man there had

begun to teach them new opinions, and that, soon after, offence and

prejudice crept in, and increased till they were all torn asunder.

What they have done since I know not; for they have no connection

with us. I do ‘exert myself’ so far, as to separate from us those

that separate from the Church. But, in a thousand other instances, I

feel the want of more resolution and firmness of spirit. I exercise

as little authority as possible, because I am afraid of the people

depending upon me too much, and paying me more reverence than they

ought.

“You say, ‘If you believed Mr. V——[306] to be a gracious person and

a gospel minister, why did you not, in justice to your people, leave

them to him?’

“There are several reasons why I did not do this. 1. No one mentioned

or intimated any such thing, nor did it once enter into my thoughts.

But if it had,—2. I do not know, that every one who preaches the

truth has wisdom and experience to guide and govern a flock. 3. I

do not know, whether Mr. V—— would or could give that flock all the

advantages for holiness which they now enjoy; and to leave them to

him, before I was assured of this, would be neither justice nor mercy.

4. Unless they also were assured of this, they could not in conscience

give up themselves to him; and I have neither right nor power to

dispose of them contrary to their conscience.

“‘But they are already his by legal establishment.’ If they receive

the sacrament from him thrice a year, and attend the ministrations

on the Lord’s day, I see no more which the law requires. But, to go

a little deeper into this matter of _legal establishment_—does Mr.

Canon or you think, that the king and parliament have a right to

prescribe to me what pastor I shall use? If they prescribe one which

I know God never sent, am I obliged to receive him? If he be sent of

God, can I receive him, with a clear conscience, till I know he is?

And even when I do, if I believe my former pastor is more profitable

to my soul, can I leave him without sin? Or has any man living a right

to require this of me? Before I could, with a clear conscience, leave

the Methodist society even to such an one, all these considerations

must come in.

“And with regard to the people,—far from thinking, that ‘the

withdrawing our preachers’ from such a society, without their consent,

would prevent a separation from the Church, I think, it would be

the direct way to cause it. While we are with them, our advice has

weight, and keeps them to the Church. But were we totally to withdraw,

it would be of little or no weight. Nay, perhaps, resentment of our

unkindness (as it would appear to them) would prompt them to act in

flat opposition to it.

“‘And will it not be the same at your death?’ I believe not: for I

believe there will be no resentment in this case. And the last advice

of a dying friend is not likely to be soon forgotten.

“At our late conference, I proposed the question, ‘What can be done,

in order to a close union with the clergy, who preach the truth?’ We

all agreed, that nothing could be more desirable. I, in particular,

have long desired it; not from any view to my own ease or honour, or

temporal convenience of any kind; but, because I was deeply convinced,

it might be a blessing to my own soul, and a means of increasing the

general work of God.

“But you say, ‘Really, before it can be effected, something must be

done on your part.’ Tell me what, and I will do it without delay;

however contrary it may be to my ease, or natural inclination:

provided only, that it consists with my keeping a good conscience

toward God and toward man.

“But you add, ‘Paying us visits can serve no other purpose, than

to bring us under needless difficulties.’ But what difficulties

are those? All that are the necessary consequence of sharing our

reproach. And what reproach is it which we bear? Is it the reproach

of Christ, or not? It arose first, while my brother and I were at

Oxford, from our endeavouring to be real Christians. It was increased

abundantly when we began to preach repentance and remission of sins;

and insisting, that we are justified by faith. For this cause, were we

excluded from preaching in the churches; and this exclusion occasioned

our preaching elsewhere, with the other irregularities that followed.

Therefore, all the reproach consequent thereon is no other than the

reproach of Christ.

“And what are we the worse for this? It is not pleasing to flesh and

blood; but is it any hindrance to the work of God? Did He work more by

us when we were honourable men? By no means. God never used us to any

purpose, till we were a proverb of reproach. Nor have we now jot more

of dishonour, of evil report, than we know is necessary, both for

us and for the people, to balance that honour and good report, which

otherwise could not be borne. You need not, therefore, be so much

afraid of, or so careful to avoid this. It is a precious balm: it will

not break your head, neither lessen your usefulness. And, indeed, you

cannot avoid it, any otherwise than by departing from the work. You do

not avoid it by standing aloof from us; which you call _Christian_,—I

_worldly_, prudence. Perhaps when the time is slipped out of your

hands, when I am no more seen, you may wish that you had not rejected

the assistance of even

“Your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[307]

Further correspondence followed; hence the ensuing extract from another

letter sent to Mr. Walker.

“_October, 1757._

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—I return you many thanks for the welcome

letter from Mr. Adam, as well as for your own. I have answered his,

and now proceed to consider yours.

“Two of our preachers are gone from us; but none of these remaining,

to my knowledge, have, at present, any _desire_ or design of

separating from the Church.

“Yet I observe—1. Those ministers, who truly feared God near a hundred

years ago, had undoubtedly much the same objections to the liturgy

which some have now. And I myself so far allow the force of several of

those objections, that I should not declare my assent and consent to

that book in the terms prescribed. Indeed, they are so strong, that

I think they cannot safely be used, with regard to any book but the

Bible. Neither dare I confine myself wholly to forms of prayer, not

even in the church. I use indeed all the forms; but I frequently use

extemporary prayer, either before or after sermon.

“2. In behalf of many of the canons, I can say little; of the

spiritual courts, nothing at all. I dare not, therefore, allow the

authority of the former, or the jurisdiction of the latter.

“I am still desirous of knowing, in what particular manner you think

the present work of God could be carried on, without the assistance of

lay preachers. This I will fairly weigh, and give you my thoughts upon

it. Assist, both with your advice and prayers, dear sir, your very

affectionate brother and servant,

“JOHN. WESLEY.”[308]

Walter Sellon, a Methodist clergyman, was addressed as follows.

“LONDON, _December 1, 1757_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—Only prevail upon John Brandon to spend a month or

two in London, or any other part of England, and I will immediately

send another preacher to Leicester, Ashby, and the adjacent places;

but, during the present scarcity of labourers, we cannot spare a

second for that small circuit, till you spare us the first.

“It is surprising that, from one end of the land to the other, so

little good is done in a _regular way_. What have you to do, but to

follow that way which the providence of God points out? When they

drive you from Smithsby, you know where to have both employment and

the things needful for the body. I think, also, it will be highly

profitable for your soul, to be near those who have more experience in

the ways of God.

“I am your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[309]

The following letter was written, to a friend, on “public worship”; but

has an important bearing on the question of the Methodists continuing

to exist as a distinct society.

“_September 20, 1757._

“DEAR SIR,—The longer I am absent from London, and the more I attend

the service of the Church in other places, the more I am convinced of

the unspeakable advantage which the Methodists enjoy—I mean, even with

regard to public worship, particularly on the Lord’s day. The church

where they assemble is not gay or splendid; which might be a hindrance

on the one hand: nor sordid or dirty; which might give distaste on the

other: but plain as well as clean. The persons who assemble there, are

not a gay, giddy crowd, who come chiefly to see and be seen; nor a

company of goodly, formal, outside Christians, whose religion lies in

a dull round of duties; but a people most of whom know, and the rest

earnestly seek, to worship God in spirit and in truth. Accordingly,

they do not spend their time there in bowing and curtseying, or in

staring about them; but in looking upward and looking inward, in

hearkening to the voice of God, and pouring out their hearts before

Him.

“It is also no small advantage, that the person who reads prayers,

though not always the same, yet is always one whose life is no

reproach to his profession; and one who performs that solemn part of

Divine service, not in a careless, hurrying, slovenly manner; but

seriously and slowly, as becomes him who is transacting so high an

affair between God and man.

“Nor are their solemn addresses to God interrupted either by the

formal drawl of a parish clerk, the screaming of boys, who bawl

out what they neither feel nor understand, or the unseasonable and

unmeaning impertinence of a voluntary on the organ. When it is

seasonable to sing praise to God, they do it with the spirit and with

the understanding also: not in the miserable, scandalous doggrel of

Hopkins and Sternhold, but in psalms and hymns which are both sense

and poetry; such as would sooner provoke a critic to turn Christian,

than a Christian to turn critic. What they sing is selected for that

end, not by a poor humdrum wretch, who can scarce read what he drones

out with such an air of importance, but by one who knows what he is

about, and how to connect the preceding with the following part of the

service. Nor does he take just ‘two staves’; but more or less as may

best raise the soul to God; especially when sung in well composed and

well adapted tunes; not by a handful of wild, unawakened striplings,

but by a whole serious congregation; and then not lolling at ease,

or in the indecent posture of sitting, drawling out one word after

another; but all standing before God, and praising Him lustily and

with a good courage.

“Nor is it a little advantage, as to the next part of the service,

to hear a preacher, whom you know to live as he speaks, speaking

the genuine gospel of present salvation, through faith wrought in

the heart by the Holy Ghost; declaring present, free, and full

justification, and enforcing every branch of inward and outward

holiness. And this you hear done in the most clear, plain, simple,

unaffected language; yet with an earnestness becoming the importance

of the subject, and with the demonstration of the Spirit.

“With regard to the last and most awful part of Divine service, the

celebration of the Lord’s supper, although we cannot say, that either

the unworthiness of the minister, or the unholiness of some of the

communicants, deprives the rest of a blessing from God, yet do they

greatly lessen the comfort of receiving. But these discouragements

are removed from you. You have proof, that he who administers fears

God; and you have no reason to believe, that any of your fellow

communicants walk unworthy of their profession. Add to that, the whole

service is performed in a decent and solemn manner, is enlivened by

hymns suitable to the occasion, and is concluded with prayer that

comes not out of feigned lips.

“Surely then, of all the people of Great Britain, the Methodists

would be the most inexcusable, should they let any opportunity slip

of attending that worship which has so many advantages; should they

prefer any before it; or not continually improve by the advantages

they enjoy! What can be pleaded for them, if they do not worship God

in spirit and in truth; if they are still outward worshippers only;

approaching God with their lips while their hearts are far from Him?

Yea, if having known Him, they do not daily grow in grace, and in the

knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.

“JOHN WESLEY.”[310]

These are important letters, fully showing that Wesley had not the

least intention of giving up the Methodist societies, and that he

considered their religious services far superior to the general

services of the Church of England.

It was about this period, Wesley commenced a correspondence with Martin

Madan, who afterwards made himself painfully notorious, and concerning

whom we have to say something at another time. This remarkable man,

a cousin to the poet Cowper, and possessed of a private fortune of

£1800 a year, had recently been converted under Wesley’s ministry,

had renounced his profession of a barrister, and was now an ordained

clergyman of the Church of England, and fast becoming one of the most

popular preachers in the land. Extracts from two of his earliest

letters to Wesley may be welcome.

“CHANCERY LANE, _May 18, 1756_.

“DEAR SIR,—My father’s death has indeed made a considerable alteration

in my worldly affairs, by adding, to what I had before, a plentiful

estate; but, blessed be God, I can still cry out, with more and more

earnestness, ‘Like as the hart panteth after the water brooks,’ etc.

O sir! I desire, notwithstanding all my worldly wealth, to be little

and vile in my own eyes, and that Christ may be all in all. The only

true riches are those of His grace; all things else, when compared to

these, are dung and dross.

“My dear mother was with me, when your kind letter came, and she

desired me to send her love and best wishes to you, when I answered

it. She longs much, as well as myself and the rest of your friends, to

see you once more in England.

“Adieu, dear sir. May the God of all peace and consolation be with you

always! Amen, amen.

“I remain,

“Your truly affectionate servant and son in the gospel,

“MARTIN MADAN.”[311]

“CHELTENHAM, _August 6, 1757_.

“DEAR SIR,—I received the favour of yours, and thank you much for the

kind advice it contained, and hope God will give me grace to follow it.

“I have been a month at Cheltenham, to drink the waters, and have

preached every Sunday. Some of the company are much offended; others

very thankful. The poor people of the place are desirous to hear, and

those of all persuasions flock to listen to the word of life. Last

time, the quakers and baptists made no inconsiderable part of the

congregation; and this confirms me in an opinion I have long had,

that, if the truth was preached in the Church, few, if any, would

separate from it.

“I propose to be in Bristol about the 17th inst., and about a week

after that to be in London, where I hope to meet you in perfect

health. My love attends Mrs. Wesley; pray accept the same yourself,

etc.

“MARTIN MADAN.”[312]

Alas! poor Martin Madan! He was now a young man of thirty, full of

vigour, and, for years afterwards, was of great service to the church

of Christ. His brother became successively bishop of Bristol, and

Peterborough; but he himself died in 1790, beneath the dark cloud of

his chimerical and mischievous “Thelyphthora.”

In the same year, 1757, Wesley began a remarkable correspondence with

Sarah Ryan, the wisdom of which may be fairly doubted.

Sarah Ryan, the offspring of poor parents, was born in 1724. From

childhood she was, according to her own confession, excessively vain,

and fond of praise. “As she grew in years, her ill tempers gathered

strength; and she became artful, subtle, cunning; often loved and made

lies; and had little regard either to justice, mercy, or truth.” To

obtain food and clothing, she went into domestic service. At the age of

nineteen, she was married to a corkcutter, who pretended he had £150

a year; but who turned out to be a profligate, impoverished scamp. He

was already married to another woman; he proposed to Sarah Ryan to

stoop to infamy to obtain him money; he ran away; and the bailiff sold

his goods to pay his debts. About a year subsequent to this, Sarah

Ryan engaged herself to Solomon Benreken, an Italian; but, before she

married him, Ryan, an Irish sailor, feigned illness, got her to sit up

with him, and actually married her. Ryan’s life was most profligate;

and his treatment of his young wife abominably cruel. He went to sea;

during his absence, Benreken, the Italian, renewed his proposals; and,

for the third time, this worthless woman went to the hymeneal altar,

and was actually married to a third husband, though the other two,

to whom she had been already married, were still alive. The Italian

seemed to be the best of the trio. For two months, he treated her with

great kindness; but, belonging to the navy, he was then obliged to

leave her. After his departure, Ryan returned, and claimed her; and,

though he treated her with great barbarity, she considered herself

his lawful spouse, lived with him, and maintained herself by washing.

Ryan again left her, and set sail for America. Once more, she became

a domestic servant. While in service, the Italian, having returned to

England, wished her to live with him; but to this she objected. She

had now arrived at the age of thirty; she was seized with illness in

the family where she was a servant; and was sent to the hospital. On

her dismissal, she found herself in the greatest straits; and had, by

her own labour, to maintain both herself and her mother. This was in

1754. She went to Spitalfields church, and professed to find peace with

God, while Wesley was administering the sacrament. Ryan wrote to her,

wishing her to join him in America; but, though she had three husbands

living, she now preferred not to live with any of them. Her early

religious experience, as published by Wesley in the _Magazine_ for

1779, is wild and whimsical, rather than intelligent and devout.

Sarah Ryan was now resident with Mary Clarke, in a small house, in

Christopher Alley, Moorfields. Here a select few of the more lively

London Methodists held their meetings. Among others, Miss Bosanquet,

afterwards Mrs. Fletcher, now a young girl of about sixteen years of

age, was accustomed to make this her home. Here she met with Sarah

Ryan and Sarah Crosby, both of them boarders with Mary Clarke. Such a

conclave of Methodist females attracted Wesley’s notice; and, about two

years after her conversion, that is in 1757, he made Sarah Ryan, the

wife of three living husbands, at the age of thirty-three, his Bristol

and Kingswood housekeeper.

With the utmost respect for Wesley, we cannot but consider this an

exceedingly hasty and imprudent act. Perhaps Sarah Ryan was converted;

but naturally, she was vain, flippant, giddy, and far from being what

a Methodist housekeeper ought to be. In addition to this, though her

sin of marrying three men in succession, without any of them dying,

might be pardoned by the God whose commands she had so grossly broken,

yet, all will admit, that a foolish young servant woman, who had so

flagrantly transgressed the laws of her country, and, for her crimes,

could, at any moment, be sent to prison, was not exactly the woman to

be the matron of Kingswood school, and the favourite correspondent of

Wesley in the years 1757 and 1758. No wonder that Wesley’s naturally

jealous wife was fired with indignation; and that, at one of the

Bristol conferences, when Sarah Ryan was sitting at the head of a

table, where sixty or seventy of the preachers were dining, Wesley’s

irritated spouse rushed into the room, and pointing to the presiding

matron, shrieked,

“The —— now serving you has three husbands living.” For about four

years, Sarah Ryan held her situation; and met a hundred persons

every week in class or band, and also made excursions to the country

societies around Bristol. In 1762, she returned to London, and became

the guest of Miss Bosanquet, at Leytonstone, having told the young

lady, that she needed a friend like herself. Here they held meetings,

read and expounded the Scriptures, formed a society, and made their

home into an orphanage. In June, 1768, they removed their family of

orphans to Yorkshire; and, on the 17th of August following, Sarah Ryan

died, in the forty-fourth year of her age, and was buried in Leeds old

churchyard; where to her name and age were added only these words;—“who

lived and died a Christian.”[313] Some of her last utterances were: “I

am dying. Glory be to God! Cut, cut, cut the thread, sweet Jesus! cut

the thread!”

Part of this account is taken from an unpublished manuscript memoir,

in the handwriting of Mrs. Fletcher, who regarded Sarah Ryan as one

of the holiest of saints, and as her nearest and dearest friend.

Judging from her own private diaries and letters, the present writer

cannot dispute her piety; but, at the same time, he thinks that the

eulogies by Wesley and by Mrs. Fletcher are excessive. Her career was

a strangely chequered one, but her end was peace. We rejoice over her

as a converted magdalen; but we cannot commend her being appointed as

Wesley’s housekeeper, and her being made Wesley’s confidant concerning

his wife’s jealousy and unkind behaviour.

In the _Arminian Magazine_, for 1782, Wesley published eleven of her

letters addressed to himself, and eight of his own addressed to her,

written at different dates, extending from August 10, 1757, to March

20, 1758. Wesley tells her he had been censured for making her his

housekeeper; but he could not repent of it. He gives her the rules of

the family, which he wishes to be strictly kept; namely—“1. The family

rises, part at four, part at half an hour after. 2. They breakfast at

seven, dine at twelve, and sup at six. 3. They spend the hour from five

to six in the evening, after a little joint prayer, in private. 4.

They pray together at nine, and then retire to their chambers; so that

all are in bed before ten. 5. They observe all Fridays in the year as

days of fasting, or abstinence.” He adds:—

“You, in particular, I advise,—Suffer no impertinent visitant, no

unprofitable conversation in the house. It is a city set upon a hill;

and all that is in it should be ‘holiness to the Lord.’ On what a

pinnacle do you stand! You are placed in the eye of all the world,

friends and enemies. You have no experience of these things; no

knowledge of the people; no advantages of education; not large natural

abilities; and are but a novice, as it were, in the ways of God!

It requires all the omnipotent love of God to preserve you in your

present station; but, if you continue teachable and advisable, I know

nothing that shall be able to hurt you.”[314]

At the end of 1757, Wesley, and it would seem his wife, went to

Bristol. While there, conjugal unpleasantness occurred, of which Mrs.

Wesley’s jealousy of Sarah Ryan appears to have been the cause. The

housekeeper says, she “dealt faithfully with both of them,” and adds,

“I will not despair of Mrs. W——.”[315] Within a month, Wesley’s wife

left him, vowing she would not return. Wesley informed Sarah Ryan of

this distressing fact. She advised him, “not to depend too much upon

any creature; and to use much private prayer;” and assured him, that

“much good would come out of this.”

Perhaps the reader will complain of so much being said concerning Ryan.

The writer’s apology is this,—though Sarah Ryan was unquestionably

a converted woman, and though the correspondence between her and

Wesley was, in the highest degree, pure and pious, there can be little

doubt, it was the appointment of this converted magdalen to be his

housekeeper, that led Wesley’s jealous wife to the first conjugal

separation which has been recorded in Wesley’s history. Sarah Ryan

went to Bristol in October, 1757; and, within three months afterwards,

Wesley’s wife, though she had often played the termagant, for the first

time left him. Wesley’s intention, in making the appointment, was

benevolent; but, considering the antecedents of the woman, considering

the importance of the office, considering the duty of consulting the

feelings and prejudices of the parents and children committed to the

housekeeper’s care, and considering the morbid jealousy of his own

uneducated and common minded wife, we are persuaded the appointment

was a great mistake. From her conversion in 1754 to her death in 1768,

Sarah Ryan conducted herself as a Christian; but no one will say that,

because of this, she was a fit and proper person to be the manager of

Wesley’s house at Bristol. Her letters, wrote Wesley in 1782, “breathe

deep, strong sense and piety. I know few like them in the English

tongue.”[316] Quite correct. And yet, was it not because her husband

had chosen for his housekeeper a woman who had been so thoughtless,

that Mrs. Wesley’s unfounded, jealous bitterness, which had long been

smouldering, now, not unnaturally, burst into a furious flame?

Before proceeding to trace Wesley’s steps during the subsequent part

of 1757, it may be added, that Miss Bosanquet’s home, at Leytonstone,

sheltered not only Sarah Ryan, but two other Methodist females, of

great repute. One of them was Ann Tripp, who was born in 1745, and

died at Leeds, in 1823, after being a member of the Methodist society

more than sixty years. At the time of her decease, she was one of the

oldest leaders in the Leeds society.[317] The other was the celebrated

Sarah Crosby, who, in 1757, became a widow at the age of twenty, and

continued such until her triumphant death in 1804.[318] She will be

frequently mentioned in succeeding pages.

Having concluded his conference in London, Wesley set out, on

August 22, 1757, for Cornwall, where he spent the next six weeks.

At Camelford, he cured his toothache, by rubbing his cheek with

treacle. At St. Agnes, he was the welcome guest of Mrs. Donythorne,

a widow lady, ninety years old, of unimpaired understanding, almost

without a wrinkle, who read without spectacles, and walked without a

staff. At St. Just, he opened the new meeting-house, “the largest and

most commodious” in Cornwall. At Gwennap, it rained all the time he

preached; but he characteristically observes, “a shower of rain will

not frighten experienced soldiers.” At Bezore, finding that he would

have to sleep in the same room as a man and his wife, he preferred to

walk to Truro. At Grampound, “a mean, inconsiderable, dirty village,”

the mayor sent two constables, saying: “Sir, the mayor says you shall

not preach within his borough.” Wesley answered: “The mayor has no

authority to hinder me; but it is a point not worth contesting. So,”

he adds, “I went about a musketshot farther, and left the borough to

Mr. mayor’s disposal.” At St. Austle, where he attended church, the

whole service was performed by Mr. Hugo, who was almost a centenarian,

and had been vicar of St. Austle nearly threescore years and ten. At

Liskeard, which he pronounces “one of the largest and pleasantest towns

in Cornwall,” every one in the society had found peace with God. He got

back to Bristol on October 8.

Here, and in the immediate neighbourhood, he spent the next four weeks.

Part of the time he was disabled by a swelling in his face, which he

cured by the application of boiled nettles. The Kingswood society was

standing still. That at Bristol was reduced from nine hundred members

to little more than half the number. That at Coleford was the most

numerous and also the liveliest society in the county of Somerset. He

opened the new meeting-house at Pill, lately an almost unparalleled

“sink of sin”; but now a place where many were rejoicing in God their

Saviour.

The chief event, however, which happened, during his Bristol sojourn,

was an alarming fire at Kingswood school. On October 24, while Wesley

was absent at Bath, about eight o’clock at night, a boy opened the

staircase door, but was driven back by smoke. The lad shouted, “Fire!

murder! fire!” Terrible alarm sprung up, and all in the house seemed

paralysed. At length, John How, a neighbour, mounted a rotten ladder;

and, with an axe, broke through the leaden roof. The suffocating smoke

found vent; water was brought, and the fire quickly quenched. John How,

under God, saved Kingswood school. Let his name be honourably borne in

mind. Wesley first heard of the event the day after it occurred, when a

man met him, and told him “the school was burned.” Wesley says: “I felt

not a moment’s pain, knowing that God does all things well.” This was a

rough beginning for Sarah Ryan.

On November 9, Wesley returned to London. A few days later, he set out

for Norwich, where he was shown the unitarian chapel, occupied by Dr.

Taylor—octagon in shape, built of the finest brick, with thirty-two

windows, and eight skylights in the dome—the whole finished in the

highest taste, and as clean as a nobleman’s saloon—the communion table

of fine mahogany, and the pew door latches of polished brass. “How

can it be thought,” he asks, “that the old coarse-gospel should find

admission here?” Query, what would Wesley have said concerning some of

the highly ornamented _Methodist_ chapels of the present day?

Returning to London, he found much confusion occasioned by certain

imprudent words spoken by one who seemed to be strong in faith. He

heard all who were concerned, face to face; but what one side flatly

affirmed, the other flatly denied; and he found himself utterly

bewildered among the wilful lies or human infirmities of high

professors. “For the present,” he writes, “I leave it to the Searcher

of hearts, who will bring all things to light in due season.”

Having baptized a Jew of more than sixty years of age, he returned

to Lewisham, to write his “Preservative against unsettled Notions in

Religion”; and here he remained till Christmas, when he again returned

to Bristol, where he witnessed the close of the year 1757.

Compared with former years, this was a period of peace. It is true,

that persecution still dogged the steps of the poor Methodists; but it

was not so violent as in days gone past. In Ireland, Whitefield was

all but murdered by a mob of Irish papists. At Norwood, near London,

a gang of godless rioters surrounded the house of Samuel Cole, and,

because the Methodists held their meetings in it, threatened to burn

it to the ground; for which threat Edward Frost, the leader of the

rioters, was sent to Newgate prison.[319] Pamphleteers, also, were

not idle; but almost all were ashamed to affix their names to their

paltry publications. One of these anonymous attacks was entitled, “An

Expostulatory Letter to the Rev. Mr. Wesley.” Another was “A Short

Examen of Mr. John Wesley’s System.” A third, the most enigmatical,

was: “Methodism Displayed and Enthusiasm Detected; intended as an

antidote against, and a preservative from, the delusive principles and

unscriptural doctrines of a modern _sett_ of seducing preachers, and

as a defence of our regular and orthodox clergy, from their unjust

reflections.” 8vo, 36 pages. The reader is told, that the poor have

become a prey to “ignorant, enthusiastic preachers”; and, that it

is because of this, that “novel doctrines, extravagant follies, and

destructive errors” are now so prevalent. Virtue was reclining her

fainting head; morality, except in name, was almost banished; and

vice, like a torrent, was deluging the land. While the infidel, on the

one hand, was proud, presumptuous, and God-resisting; the enthusiast,

on the other, was credulous, unscriptural, and unmeaning, deceiving

himself and others by his mere pretences to inspiration, and all

for the sake of making gain by his godliness. Methodist preachers

sing “sweet syren songs”; they are “new doctors and modern teachers

tickling the ears, pleasing the pride, and flattering the vanity of

the human mind”; they are “quacks in divinity,” using “unedifying

jargon, unscriptural harangues, and false encomiums on the virtue and

dignity of man”; they are “flatterers of human nature, sleek divines,

downy doctors, velvet mouthed preachers, miserable daubers, and soul

deceivers.”

It is a strange fact, that the author of this pamphlet avows his

firm belief in nearly all the doctrines that specially characterized

Wesley’s ministry; and yet, these are some of the spicy appellatives

applied to Methodist preachers. It is difficult to divine the writer’s

object. At the beginning, he seems to belabour the poor Methodists; at

the end, he defends and praises them.

The most malignant onset, however, during the year 1757, was published

in the _London Magazine_, with the title, “A Dozen Reasons why the

Sect of Conjurors, called Fortune Tellers, should have at least as

much liberty to exercise their admirable art, as is now granted to

Methodists, Moravians, and various other sorts of Conjurors.” Dr.

Faustus, the writer, accuses the Methodists of defrauding “both men

and women out of their lands, tenements, and money”; of “terrifying

many of their followers out of their little wits, as Bedlam, and every

private madhouse, about London, could testify”; of “very lately

inducing a poor woman to literally fulfil the Scripture, by pulling out

one of her eyes, because she had looked upon a handsome young fellow

with a longing look”; and, finally, as being disturbers of public

government. These silly calumnies, falsehoods of the first magnitude,

were vigorously refuted, in three succeeding numbers of the _London

Magazine_, by one who signed himself “A Methodist.”

Wesley’s publications in 1757 were few in number, but one was of great

importance.

1. “A Sufficient Answer to ‘Letters to the Author of Theron and

Aspasio,’ in a Letter to the Author.” 12mo, 12 pages. The supposed

author, to whom Wesley addressed his answer, was John Glass, an

expelled minister of the Church of Scotland, or Robert Sandeman, a

Scotch elder, the founder of a sect sometimes called Sandemanians, and

sometimes Glassites. Wesley’s tract was really a defence of his friend,

Hervey, on the subject of saving faith, in opposition to the Glassite

or Sandemanian notion, that faith is a mere assent to the truthfulness

of the gospel history. Wesley’s answer was short, apposite, indignant,

almost savage. He told Glass, or Sandeman, that he had “a peculiar

pertness, insolence, and self sufficiency, with such an utter contempt

of mankind, as no other writer of the present age had shown.” His

letter to Hervey was “full of slander.” His notions of justifying faith

were “stark, staring nonsense”; for, if true, “every devil in hell

will be justified and saved.” He evinced “such hatred, malevolence,

rancour, and bitterness to all” who dissented from his opinions, as

was “scarce ever seen in a Jew, a heathen, or a popish inquisitor”;

and, were it in his power, he “would make more bonfires in Smithfield

than Bonner and Gardiner put together.” This is pretty strong; perhaps

it was not undeserved. It was replied to in a threepenny pamphlet,

entitled, “Remarks on the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Sufficient Answer to

the author of the Letters on Theron and Aspasio. By J. D.” The writer

was as great an adept in using strong expressions as Wesley was.

Hence, he told his readers, that Wesley had “crowded more scandal,

insolence, self sufficiency, hatred, malevolence, rancour, bitterness,

and uncharitableness” into his penny tract than Hervey had into his

five shillings book; with this difference, Hervey’s was “sarcastical,

lively, volatile, and pungent as the ether;” Wesley’s “dense and dull

as lead.”

2. “The Doctrine of Original Sin; according to Scripture, Reason, and

Experience.” 8vo, 522 pages.

Wesley’s work on original sin was one which he had purposed publishing

for the last six years, ever since his visit to Shackerley in 1751. Dr.

Taylor was, perhaps, the most eminent Socinian minister of his age,

and, in 1740, had published his “Scripture Doctrine of Original Sin

proposed to free and candid examination. In three parts.” This was the

work which Wesley answered. It had done immense mischief, not only in

England, but even on the continent. Taylor was no ordinary antagonist.

Wesley says: “He is a man of unusually strong understanding, joined

with no small liveliness of imagination, and a good degree of various

learning. He has an admirable command of temper, and a smooth and

pleasing, yet a manly and nervous style.” Wesley believed Taylor’s

system to be nothing but “old deism in a new dress.” “The deadly

poison,” he writes, “has been diffusing itself for several years,

through our nation, our Church, and even our universities. One father

of the Church has declared, that he knows ‘no book more proper than

this, to settle the principles of a young clergyman.’”

It is utterly impossible, in space so limited, to convey an adequate

idea of Wesley’s vigorous and triumphant answer. In the first part, he

reviews, in most trenchant language, “the past and present state of

mankind.” Part second is “the scriptural method of accounting for this

defended.” Part third is “an answer to Mr. Taylor’s supplement.” The

remainder of the work consists of extracts from the writings of Dr.

Watts, the Rev. Samuel Hebden, minister at Wrentham, in Suffolk, and

Boston, the author of the “Four-fold State of Man.”

Is it too much to say, that Wesley’s book is the ablest refutation of

the Socinian errors respecting original sin, to be found in the English

language? Throughout, he treats Dr. Taylor with the utmost respect,

but, at the same time, utterly demolishes his system. Two years

afterwards he wrote to him as follows.

“HARTLEPOOL, _July 3, 1759_.

“REVEREND SIR,—I esteem you as a person of uncommon sense and

learning; but your doctrine I cannot esteem. And some time since,

I believed it my duty to speak my sentiments at large, concerning

your doctrine of original sin. When Mr. Newton,[320] of Liverpool,

mentioned this, and asked, whether you designed to answer, you said,

you thought not; for it would only be a personal controversy between

John Wesley and John Taylor. How gladly, if I durst, would I accept

of this discharge from so unequal a contest! For I am thoroughly

sensible, humanly speaking, it is _formica contra leonem_. How gladly,

were it indeed no other than a personal controversy! But certainly

it is not; it is a controversy _de re_, if ever there was one in the

world. Indeed, concerning a thing of the highest importance; nay, all

the things that concern our eternal peace. It is, Christianity or

heathenism. For take away the scriptural doctrine of redemption, or

justification, and that of the new birth; or, which amounts to the

same, explain them as you do, suitably to your doctrine of original

sin; and what is Christianity better than heathenism? Wherein, except

in rectifying some of our notions, has the religion of St. Paul any

preeminence over that of Socrates or Epictetus?

“This is, therefore, to my apprehension, the least a personal

controversy of any in the world. Your person and mine are out of the

question. The point is, are those things that have been believed for

many ages throughout the Christian world, real, solid truths; or

monkish dreams, and vain imaginations?

“But, farther, it is certain, between you and me there need be no

personal controversy at all. For we may agree to leave each other’s

person and character absolutely untouched, while we sum up and answer

the several arguments advanced, as plainly and closely as we can.

“Either I or you mistake the whole of Christianity from the beginning

to the end. Either my scheme or yours is as contrary to the scriptural

as the Koran is. Is it mine or yours? Yours has gone through all

England, and made numerous converts. I attack it from end to end; let

all England judge whether it can be defended or not.

“Earnestly praying, that God may give you and me a right understanding

in all things,

“I am, reverend sir, your servant for Christ’s sake,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[321]

This was a manly and respectful challenge; but it was not accepted.

Indeed, within two years after it was written, Dr. Taylor died; having,

as Wesley thinks, considerably modified his opinions. Hence the

following, from one of Wesley’s letters to Sir Harry Trelawney: “For

some years, that great man, Dr. Taylor, of Norwich, was an earnest

Calvinist; but afterwards, judging he could not get far enough from

that melancholy system, he ran, not only into Arianism, but into the

very dregs of Socinianism. I have reason, however, to believe he was

convinced of his mistake some years before he died; but to acknowledge

this publicly was too hard a task for him.”[322]

1758.

[Sidenote: 1758 Age 55]

Whitefield spent about seven months of the year 1758 in London, and the

rest in two lengthened journeys, one to Scotland, and the other to the

west of England. His health was feeble, on which account, he says, “I

have been reduced, for some time, to the short allowance of preaching

only once a day, except Sundays, when I generally preach thrice.”[323]

He adds: “Though Mr. Wesley and I differ a little in some principles,

yet brotherly love continues. I generally, when itinerating, preach

among his people, as freely as among those who are called our own.”

On the 13th of January, Wesley returned from Bristol to London, full

of joy that, under Sarah Ryan’s management, Kingswood school was, at

length, what he had so long wished it to be,—a blessing to all its

inmates, and an honour to the Methodists. Four days later he wrote as

follows:—

“January 17.—I preached at Wandsworth. A gentleman, come from America,

has again opened a door in this desolate place. In the morning, I

preached in Mr. Gilbert’s house. Two negro servants of his and a

mulatto appear to be much awakened. Shall not His saving health be made

known to all nations?”

On the 29th of November following, Wesley says: “I rode to Wandsworth,

and baptized two negroes belonging to Mr. Gilbert, a gentleman lately

come from Antigua. One of these is deeply convinced of sin; the other

rejoices in God her Saviour, and is the first African Christian I have

known. But shall not our Lord, in due time, have these heathens also

‘for His inheritance’?”

These seem simple entries; but, as the acorn contains the oak, so they

contain the germ of the marvellous Methodist work and successes among

the sable sons of benighted and degraded Africa from that day to this.

We think not only of thousands of converted Africans in Namaqualand,

Kaffraria, Bechuana, Natal, Sierra Leone, on the Gambia and the Gold

Coast, in Dahomey and Guinea, but we also think of tens of thousands in

the West Indies, and literally of hundreds of thousands in the southern

states of America. This wonderful work of God began in the house of

Nathaniel Gilbert, a temporary sojourner in the town of Wandsworth.

Who was Mr. Gilbert? A brief notice of himself and his family will not

be out of place.

Nathaniel Gilbert was the inheritor of an estate in Antigua, which

had been in the possession of his ancestors for several generations.

The Gilbert family were among the earliest settlers in the island,

and considered themselves descendants of Sir Humphrey Gilbert, the

enterprising English navigator, and half brother of Sir Walter

Raleigh.[324] Mr. Nathaniel Gilbert was a man of sound understanding,

sharpened by a collegiate education, and the admirable training of

an English court of law. He was confessedly an able man; and for

some years, he had been the speaker of the House of Assembly in

Antigua.[325] What brought him to England?

His brother, Francis Gilbert, gay and thoughtless, had been engaged

in mercantile pursuits; but was often found in the ballroom when he

ought to have been in his place of business, and dancing when he ought

to have been balancing accounts. By the fraudulent conduct of his

clerk, and his own gay life, he had been reduced to beggary. He sought

concealment, first in Jamaica, and then in England. Adversity brought

him to repentance. He was introduced to Vincent Perronet, and then to

Wesley, of whose society he became a member. He sent to his brother

Nathaniel a number of Wesley’s publications, including Wesley’s “Appeal

to Men of Reason and Religion.” Nathaniel had always believed Wesley

to be an enthusiast, and, for some time, refused to read his books;

but, at length, his sister read to him the “Appeal.” This so altered

his opinion, that he wished to visit England for the purpose of making

Wesley’s personal acquaintance. His wish was realised. He remained two

years, and then returned in the autumn of 1759.[326]