PART III.

1761.

[Sidenote: 1761 Age 58]

Upon the whole, the reign of the second George had been a prosperous

one. Money was plentiful; waste lands were cultivated; mines were

opened; and the exports of the country doubled. But still, the

population of England and Wales was only about six millions, one half

of whom were living on barley and oaten cakes.

Lord Holland was now at the zenith of his fame, a man of distinguished

talent, but a gambler, and of no fixed principles, either of religion

or of morals. William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, was premier, his eye

armed with lightning, and his lips clothed with thunder. Lord Bute was

plotting to become his successor. Secker, the son of a Dissenter, had

recently been made primate. Newton, soon afterwards bishop of Bristol,

was publishing his Dissertations on the Prophecies. Lowth had given to

the public his Lectures on Hebrew Poetry, and was rising into literary

reputation. Beilby Porteus was a young man, just becoming popular.

Kennicott was collecting sacred manuscripts. William Dodd was already

the idol of the London populace. The learned and pious Horne was

working his way to the see of Norwich; and Horsley, afterwards bishop

of St. Asaph, had just been appointed to the rectory of Newington.

Robert Robinson had recently commenced his ministry at Cambridge. Dr.

Gill was publishing his ponderous folios of Calvinistic divinity.

Towgood was educating young dissenting ministers; and Job Orton was

writing his Exposition of the Scriptures. Shenstone, Akenside, Gray,

Collins, and Goldsmith were among the chief poets of the period.

John Harrison was completing the chronometer, which obtained him

a parliamentary reward of £20,000. John Dollond was constructing

telescopes; Thomas Simpson was lecturing on mathematics; and James

Ferguson on stars. James Brindley was executing the great Bridgewater

canal; and Hogarth, Reynolds, and Gainsborough were making pictures

almost breathe. Macklin, Foote, and Garrick were the idols of the

pleasure loving world. These are a few of the distinguished men who

lived and flourished at the commencement of the reign of King George

III.

Perhaps we are justified in saying that, from this period, literature

in England became more than ever a distinct profession. Persons of

all ranks, including ladies like Madame D’Arblay, Mrs. Hannah More,

Miss Seward, and Mrs. Barbauld, turned authors. Johnson poured forth

his sonorous eloquence. Burke issued his brilliant pamphlets. Adam

Smith wrote his Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of

Nations; and Reid, his Essays on the Intellectual Powers; Campbell, his

Dissertations on Miracles; Robertson, his Histories; and Gibbon, his

Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

Other distinguished names belonging to the last thirty years of

Wesley’s life might be mentioned,—as Blair the rhetorician, Sir William

Jones the linguist, Herschel the astronomer, Hutton the geologist,

Hunter the anatomist, Banks the naturalist, Cook the navigator, Howard

the philanthropist; Crabbe, Rogers, and Burns the poets; Watt the

engineer, Arkwright the cotton spinner, Wedgwood the potter, Wyatt the

architect, and Bruce the traveller. England was awaking into unwonted

life.

It is impossible, in a work like this, to give even the barest outline

of the great political events of the first thirty years of the reign

of George III. War committed fearful havoc. Politics were in bitterest

confusion. The Earl of Bute, cold, stiff, and unconciliating, was

the subject of numberless caricatures, lampoons, and squibs. The

popularity of Pitt, the patriot minister, was partially obscured with

mists and clouds, while his friends and partisans extolled him in the

highest terms of eulogy. The Duke of Newcastle, after occupying a seat

in the English cabinet for five-and-thirty years, had to retire, in

comparative poverty, to the dreary mansion of an ex-minister. Terrible

were the contentions in parliament, respecting the American rebellion,

the stamp act, and other matters. The political horizon was alarmingly

threatening, and the period was almost a continuous thunderstorm.

In a moral point of view, the state of the nation was deplorable.

Wesley had, under God, _begun_ a reformation; but that was all. The

upper and the middle classes were revelling in luxury; the poor often

were in a state of starvation. Wilkes, Lord Sandwich, Sir Francis

Dashwood, and other fashionable rakes, were notoriously living in the

worst private excesses, and in Palace Yard were indulging in all the

frowsy indecencies of the Dilettante club, and at Medmenham Abbey were

practising the mysteries, obscenities, and mockeries of the Hell Fire

club of the Duke of Wharton’s days. Warburton, bishop of Gloucester,

declared that “the blackest fiend in hell would not keep company with

Wilkes on his arrival there”; and yet, mournful to relate, Wilkes

was the popular hero of the London populace. The sabbath was the day

for routs among the nobility and gentry; and political ministers,

foreign and domestic, being too busy on other days, gave their grand

entertainments on this. Gambling, though not so rampant as it had

been, was still a prevailing vice. Rakes were plentiful. Seeing life

meant keeping all sorts of company; drinking much, and appearing

great; swearing in fashionable language, and singing licentious songs;

the being impious in morals and wanton in debaucheries; learned in

obscenity and skilled in wickedness; spending the night at Vauxhall or

Ranelagh; and then reeling through the streets, at early dawn, like a

beau of the first magnitude, breaking windows and wrenching knockers;

and, at last, finishing a drunken frolic in being carried, either home

or to the lock up, speechless, senseless, and motionless. Reckless

extravagance was general. The mansions, furniture, tables, equipages,

gardens, clothes, plate, and jewels of the nobility were as gorgeous as

wealth could make them. Young tradesmen had their country houses, drove

their carriages, and, to a ruinous extent, left the management of their

business to their servants. Dress was ludicrously expensive. The upper

classes indulged in their brocades, laces, velvets, satins, and silver

tassels; and even the sons of mechanics sported their gold buttons,

high quartered shoes, scarlet waistcoats, and doeskin breeches. But,

perhaps, the most absurd of all was the ladies’ powdered head-dress;

curled, frizzled, and stuffed with wool; and pinned, greased, and

worked up into an immense protuberance, which, for months, put it out

of the lady’s power to comb her head, and created an effluvia of not

the most pleasant odour, and gave birth to animalculæ which ladies

could have done well enough without.

The country, if not so flagrantly wicked as the town, was,

notwithstanding, steeped in ignorance and sin. There were thousands

of godly people, but the bulk of the population were little better

than baptized barbarians. The clergy, in many instances, were lazy, or

drunken, or non resident. Numbers of them were most miserably paid,

and had to practise meannesses to eke out insufficient incomes. Others

were more fond of preaching over pewter pots, in dirty alehouses, than

of preaching in their pulpits, or of visiting their flocks. Others

revelled amid all the luxuries of a fat benefice, leaving the duties of

their parishes to young, half starved curates, who had to live on the

mere gleanings of their master’s vintage; and others had a far greater

penchant for persecuting Methodists than for saving souls.

It may be said that these remarks are extravagant; they are simply

defective; that is all. Let the candid reader peruse the histories of

the period, and especially its broadsheets, magazines, newspapers,

essays, and other periodicals, and he will readily acknowledge, that

facts are not misstated, nor pictures overdrawn.

Methodism had begun its mission; but who will say it was no longer

needed? It is time to return to its chief actors.

Charles Wesley and Whitefield were both in ill health during the year

1761, and were, to a great extent, laid aside from public labours; but

Wesley himself was, if possible, more active than ever.

He began the year in London, by writing letters to the newspapers.

He had been to Newgate prison, once one of the darkest “seats of

woe on this side hell”; but now he found it “clean and sweet as any

gentleman’s house.” There was no fighting, no quarrelling, no cheating,

no drunkenness, and no whoredom, as there used to be; and all this he

attributes to the “keeper,” who “deserved to be remembered full as well

as the Man of Ross.”

In the _Westminster Journal_, Wesley replied to a correspondent, who

had represented Methodism as “an ungoverned spirit of enthusiasm,

propagated by knaves, and embraced by fools.” By it, “the decency of

religion had been perverted, the peace of families had been ruined,

and the minds of the vulgar darkened to a total neglect of their civil

and social duties.” Wesley says: “I am almost ashamed to spend time

upon these threadbare objections, which have been answered over and

over. But if they are advanced again, they must be answered again, lest

silence should pass for guilt.”

His first journey, in 1761, was an excursion to Norwich, extending

from January 9 to February 7. One Sunday he spent at Everton, where

he preached twice for his friend Berridge. Ash Wednesday he divided

between Berridge at Everton and Hicks at Wrestlingworth. “Few,” says

he, “are now affected as at first, the greater part having found peace

with God. But there is a gradual increasing of the work in the souls of

many believers.”

At Norwich, Wesley found about three hundred and thirty persons

who professed to meet in class; but “many of them were as bullocks

unaccustomed to the yoke.” “All jealousies,” however, “and

misunderstandings were vanished; but how long,” he asks, “will they

continue so, considering the unparalleled fickleness of the people in

these parts?”

Returning to London, Wesley spent some days in visiting the classes,

and ascertained that, after leaving out one hundred and sixty “to

whom he could do no good at present,” there were still in the London

society 2375 members. His reason for excluding the 160 is exceedingly

indefinite. Were they immoral? If so, why could not Wesley be of use

to them? Were they consistent Christians, but, by some means, beyond

Wesley’s reach? Perhaps they were; but if so, while such a reason might

be sufficient for removing them from membership with a mere society, it

was insufficient for removing them from the church of Christ.

The life of Wesley was full of anxiety. It could hardly be otherwise.

A man cannot be the leader of a great movement without incurring

great responsibilities. Wesley had had to settle many a hard question

already. In 1760 and succeeding years he had another. He had shocked

the prejudices of his clerical brethren by appointing unordained _men_

to preach; now he had to decide whether _women_ should be allowed

to exercise the same sacred function. Sarah Crosby, a godly female,

left London for Derby, at the commencement of 1761, and began to meet

classes with great success. On February 8, when she expected a class

of about thirty persons, she found, to her surprise, a congregation

of about two hundred. She writes: “I found an awful, loving sense of

the Lord’s presence. I was not sure whether it was right for me to

exhort in so public a manner; and, yet, I saw it impracticable to meet

all these people by way of speaking particularly to each individual.

I therefore gave out a hymn, and prayed, and told them part of what

the Lord had done for myself, persuading them to flee from sin.”[419]

On the Friday following, she did the same to another equally large

congregation; and says: “My soul was much comforted in speaking to the

people, as my Lord has removed all my scruples respecting the propriety

of my acting thus publicly.”

This was a startling step to take. The new preacheress wrote to Wesley

on the subject; and he answered her as follows.

“LONDON, _February 14, 1761_.

“MY DEAR SISTER,—Miss —— gave me yours on Wednesday night. Hitherto,

I think you have not gone too far. You could not well do less. I

apprehend all you can do more is, when you meet again, to tell them

simply, ‘You lay me under a great difficulty. The Methodists do

not allow of women preachers; neither do I take upon me any such

character. But I will just nakedly tell you what is in my heart.’ This

will, in a great measure, obviate the grand objection, and prepare

for J. Hampson’s coming. I do not see, that you have broken any law.

Go on calmly and steadily. If you have time, you may read to them the

Notes on any chapter before you speak a few words; or one of the most

awakening sermons, as other women have done long ago.

“The work of God goes on mightily here, both in conviction and

conversion. This morning, I have spoken with four or five who seem to

have been set at liberty within this month. I believe, within five

weeks, six in one class have received remission of sins, and five in

one band received a second blessing. Peace be with you all! I am your

affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[420]

Such was the commencement of female preaching among the Methodists; a

thing never formally sanctioned by Wesley’s conference, but which was

practised to the end of Wesley’s life. Sarah Crosby continued preaching

till her death, in 1804; and, in this, she was imitated by Hannah

Harrison, Miss Bosanquet, Miss Horral, Miss Newman, Mary Barrett, and

others. To say the least, Wesley connived at it, as we shall have other

opportunities of seeing.

On the 9th of March, Wesley set out on his long journey to the north,

which occupied nearly the next six months. Taking High Wycombe and

Oxford on his way, he came to Evesham, where he “found the poor

shattered society almost sunk into nothing.” At Birmingham, the room

was far too small for the congregation. At Wednesbury, he preached to

eight or ten thousand people in a field. Arriving at Wolverhampton,

he writes: “None had yet preached abroad in this furious town; but I

was resolved, with God’s help, to make a trial, and ordered a table to

be set in the inn yard. Such a number of wild men I have seldom seen;

but they gave me no disturbance, either while I preached, or when I

afterwards walked through the midst of them.”

Wesley proceeded to Dudley, Bilbrook, Burslem, Congleton, Macclesfield,

Manchester, and Leeds. At the last mentioned town, he held a sort

of conference. He writes: “I had desired all the preachers in those

parts to meet me; and a happy meeting we had, both in the evening

and morning. I afterwards inquired into the state of the societies

in Yorkshire and Lincolnshire. I find the work of God increases on

every side; but particularly in Lincolnshire, where there has been no

work like this, since the time I preached at Epworth on my father’s

tomb. In the afternoon, I talked with several who believe they are

saved from sin; and, after a close examination, I found reason to hope

that fourteen of them are not deceived. In the evening, I expounded

1 Corinthians xiii., and exhorted all to weigh themselves in that

balance, and see if they were not ‘found wanting.’”

Leaving Leeds, Wesley returned on March 25 to Manchester, where,

he says, “I met the believers, and strongly exhorted them to go on

unto perfection. To many it seemed a new doctrine. However, they all

received it in love; and a flame was kindled, which, I trust, neither

men nor devils shall ever be able to quench.”

From Manchester, he went to Chester and other places, and then to

Liverpool, Bolton, Whitehaven, etc.; after which, he, on April 27,

crossed Solway Frith, and entered Scotland; but here we must pause to

insert extracts from his correspondence.

The first letter was addressed to the Rev. Mr. G——; and is possessed

of considerable interest as casting light on the _real_ antinomian

Methodists; and as showing what Wesley considered to be the most

strongly marked feature of his numerous writings.

“_April 2, 1761._

“REVEREND SIR,—I have no desire to dispute: least of all with one whom

I believe to fear God and work righteousness. And I have no time to

spare. Yet I think it my duty to write a few lines, with regard to

those you sent to Mr. Bennet.

“You therein say, ‘I know numbers, who call themselves Methodists, and

assert their assurance of salvation, at the very time they wallow in

sins of the deepest dye.’

“Permit me, sir, to speak freely. I do not doubt the fact. But (1)

those who are connected with _me_ do not _call themselves_ Methodists.

Others call them by that nickname, and they cannot help it; but I

continually warn them not to pin it upon themselves. (2) We rarely use

that ambiguous expression, ‘Christ’s righteousness imputed to us.’ (3)

We believe a man may be a real Christian, without being ‘assured of

his salvation.’ (4) We know no man can be ‘assured of his salvation’

while he lives in any sin whatever. (5) The wretches who talk in

that manner are neither Methodists nor Moravians, but followers of

William Cudworth, James Relly,[421] and their associates, who abhor

us as much as they do the pope, and ten times more than they do the

devil. If _you_ oppose these, so do _I_, and have done, privately and

publicly, for these twenty years.

“Some of my writings, you say, ‘you have read.’ But allow me to ask,

did not you read them with much prejudice? or little attention?

Otherwise surely you would not have termed them _perplexing_. Very few

lay obscurity or intricacy to my charge. Those who do not allow them

to be _true_ do not deny them to be _plain_. And if they believe me

to have done any good at all by writing, they suppose it is by this

very thing, by speaking, on practical and experimental religion, more

plainly than others have done.

“I quite agree, we ‘neither can be better men, nor better Christians,

by continuing members of the Church of England.’ Yet, not only her

doctrines, but many parts of her discipline I have adhered to, at the

hazard of my life. If, in any point, I have since varied therefrom, it

was not by choice but necessity. Judge, therefore, if they do well,

who throw me into the ditch and then beat me, because my clothes are

dirty.

“I remain, reverend sir,

“Your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[422]

Another letter, written four days after the above, deserves attention,

as showing the position occupied by Wesley as a minister of the Church

of England. It also was addressed to a clergyman.

“LIVERPOOL, _April 6, 1761_.

“DEAR SIR,—Let who will speak, if what is spoken be true, I am ready

to subscribe it. If it be not, I accept no man’s person. _Magis amica

veritas._ I had an agreeable conversation with Mr. Venn, who I suppose

is now near you. I think, he is exactly as regular as he ought to

be.[423] I would observe every punctilio of order, except where the

salvation of souls is at stake. Here I prefer the end before the means.

“I think it great pity, that the few clergymen in England, who preach

the three grand spiritual doctrines,—original sin, justification by

faith, and holiness consequent thereon,—should have any jealousies or

misunderstandings between them. What advantage must this give to the

common enemy! What a hindrance is it to the great work wherein they

are all engaged! How desirable is it, that there should be the most

open, avowed intercourse among them! Surely if they are ashamed to own

one another, in the face of all mankind, they are ashamed of Christ!

Excuses, indeed, will never be wanting; but will these avail before

God? For many years, I have been labouring after this: labouring to

unite, not scatter, the messengers of God. Not that I want anything

from them. As God has enabled me to stand, almost alone, for these

twenty years, I doubt not but He will enable me to stand, either with

them or without them. But I want all to be helpful to each other; and

all the world to know we are so. Let them know ‘who is on the Lord’s

side.’ You, I trust, will always be of that number. Oh let us preach

and live the whole gospel!

“I am, dear sir,

“Your ever affectionate brother and servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[424]

This is a manly and Christian letter. He longed for union and for help,

not for his own sake so much as for the sake of others. For twenty

years, he had done his work without the cooperation of his brethren,

the clergy; and he could do so still; but, like his great Master, he

prayed for unity among Christians, that there might be faith among

sinners.

The Church question was still unsettled. Four days after writing the

above, Wesley addressed, to another correspondent, an unusually long

letter, from which we select the following.

“_April 10, 1761._

“DEAR SIR,—Some years since, two or three clergymen of the Church

of England, who were above measure zealous for all her rules and

orders, were convinced, that religion is not an external thing,

but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost; and, that

this righteousness, peace, and joy are given only to those who are

justified by faith. As soon as they were convinced of these great

truths, they preached them; and multitudes flocked to hear. For these

reasons, and no others, real or pretended (for as yet they were

strictly regular), they were forbid to preach in the churches. Not

daring to be silent, they preached elsewhere, in a school, by a river

side, or upon a mountain. And more and more sinners forsook their

sins, and were filled with peace and joy in believing.”

Wesley adds, that “huge offence was taken at their gathering

congregations in so irregular a manner”; and proceeds to answer the

objections that were raised. He affirms: “If a dispensation of the

gospel is committed to me, no church has power to enjoin me silence.

If there be a law, that a minister of Christ, who is not suffered to

preach the gospel in the church, should not preach it elsewhere; or a

law that forbids Christian people to hear the gospel of Christ out of

their parish church, when they cannot hear it therein, I judge that law

to be absolutely sinful, and that it would be sinful to obey it.” He

maintains, that the “fundamental principles” of the Methodist clergymen

are “the fundamental principles of the Established Church; and so is

their practice too, save in a few points, wherein they are constrained

to deviate, or to destroy their own souls, and let thousands of their

brethren perish for lack of knowledge.” He declares that, though “they

gather congregations everywhere, and exercise their ministerial office

therein, this is not contrary to any restraint which was laid upon them

at their ordination; for they were not ordained to serve any particular

parish; and it was remarkable, that Lincoln college” (of which he was a

fellow) “was founded ‘_ad propagandam Christianam fidem, et extirpandas

hœreses_.’” He admits, that he and his friends “maintain that, in some

circumstances, it is lawful for men to preach, who are not episcopally

ordained; especially, where thousands are rushing into destruction,

and those who are _ordained_ and appointed to watch over them neither

care for, nor know how to help them.” He allows that, “hereby they

contradict the twenty-third article, to which they had subscribed”;

but he adds, “we subscribed it in the simplicity of our hearts, when

we firmly believed none but episcopal ordination valid; and Bishop

Stillingfleet has since fully convinced us, that this was an entire

mistake.” He continues: “In every point of an indifferent nature,

we obey the bishops, for conscience sake; but we think _episcopal_

authority cannot reverse what is fixed by _Divine_ authority.” In

conclusion, he says, though they (the Methodist clergymen) are

irregular, “that is not their choice. They must either preach

irregularly or not at all.” Besides, he reminds these sticklers for

church order, that “if none ought to speak or hear the truth of God,

unless in a _regular_ manner,” Martin Luther could not have preached as

he did, and there could have been no reformation from popery.[425]

On April 27, Wesley entered Scotland, where Christopher Hopper was his

travelling companion. He visited Edinburgh, Dundee, and Aberdeen. At

the last mentioned place, by the consent of the principal and regent,

he preached in the college hall, and in the college close, and added

forty to the small society, which now numbered ninety members. The

principal, and the divinity professor, and Sir Archibald Grant, and

others, invited him to their houses, and showed him great attention.

Three years afterwards, Christopher Hopper was appointed to Aberdeen,

and a chapel was erected.[426]

The _Scots’ Magazine_, for 1763, page 421, inserts a long letter, dated

“Aberdeen, June 2, 1763,” proposing to give “an account of the rise and

progress of Methodism” in that city. The writer was unfriendly towards

Wesley, but his statements will be read with interest.

He says, four or five persons, belonging to Aberdeen, being in

England, went to hear Wesley and some of his brethren preach. On

returning home, they formed a society, which met every morning at

five o’clock, when they sung a hymn, read a portion of Scripture and

Wesley’s commentary, then sung a second time, and concluded with a

prayer. Soon a considerable number of people joined themselves to this

infant congregation. They then applied to Wesley, who sent two of his

preachers to visit them. These itinerants, for a few weeks, preached

twice a day, at the castle hill, at 5 a.m. and at 6 p.m. The society

so increased, that no room, in an ordinary dwelling house, could hold

them; and hence, after the preachers had left them, they hired “a waste

house,” in which they continued to assemble twice every day. While they

had no preacher, three of their principal men acted as public speakers;

one singing a hymn and praying, the second reading the Scriptures and

a commentary thereon, and the third singing another hymn and offering

the concluding prayer. Thus were the services of the Methodists, in

Aberdeen, conducted until Wesley’s visit in 1761. He remained nearly

a week, preaching twice daily, at five in the morning, in the common

school of the Marischal college, and at seven in the evening, in the

college close.

“All his discourses” [says the writer] “abounded with comical stories,

which generally concluded with something to his own praise. Before

his departure, he caused a paper to be written, containing words to

this purpose: ‘On such a day, at such a sermon, we, the following

subscribers, were converted from the evil of our ways to the true

faith of Jesus Christ.’ Many persons ignorantly put their names to

this paper, without knowing what they signed. This document Mr.

Wesley carried with him to show the great success of his ministry in

Aberdeen. He also purchased a place for a tabernacle, which is now

fitted up with seats, and to which he sends a new preacher every six

months. They preach in this tabernacle every Sunday at 7 a.m. and at 6

p.m.; and also on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, at 5 a.m. and at

7 p.m.; while, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays they meet at 6 p.m.

for private examination.

“The preachers frequently declare, in their public discourses, that

they come not for stipend, but to win souls to Christ. And yet, it is

well known, that every person who joins the society pays to a common

collector, who is accountable to Mr. Wesley, one penny per week,

and also, for a ticket of admission to their private examinations,

sixteen pence every quarter. This tax is paid by servant maids and the

lower class of hearers; but people in more opulent circumstances pay

considerably more; and it may justly be questioned whether the people

of any religious sect in Britain pay so much towards the maintenance

of their ministers as the Methodists; for the lowest of their hearers

pay 9_s._ 8_d._ per annum, which, considering the vast number of

Methodists in Scotland, England, and Ireland, amounts to a very great

sum.

“Having thus established the church at Aberdeen, Mr. Wesley, at the

request of an honourable gentleman, accompanied him to his country

seat. The minister of the parish complimented him with his pulpit;

where, at the gentleman’s desire, he held forth against the pernicious

practice of _stealing wood_; which so irritated his hearers, that they

would infallibly have stoned him, had they not been restrained through

fear of disobliging their master landlord.

“Mr. Wesley came again to Aberdeen on the 24th ultimo; and, during his

stay, preached twice a day, as formerly, and had private conferences

with his congregation at night, and recommended the keeping of a

lovefeast at every full moon. Such a lovefeast was held before Mr.

Wesley left. In the morning of the day on which the full moon happens,

all the men meet in one place; in the afternoon, the women meet by

themselves; and at night both men and women meet together. Their

employment then is to eat bread and drink water with one another, to

spend the whole night in prayer and singing hymns, and then to part

with a brotherly kiss.”

This account is given, not because of belief in its accuracy, but

because of its general historic interest.

Having spent a fortnight across the Tweed, Wesley, on the 14th of

May, came to Berwick; and, after preaching there, and at Alnwick,

Warksworth, Alemouth, Widdrington, Morpeth, and Placey, reached

Newcastle four days afterwards. A month was occupied in itinerating the

Newcastle circuit. He preached in the new chapel at Sunderland; and

also in Monkwearmouth church. He visited Allandale, Weardale, Teesdale,

and Swaledale. In Weardale he came “just in time to prevent all the

society turning Dissenters, being quite disgusted at the curate, whose

life was no better than his doctrine.” In Teesdale, most of the lead

miners had been turned out of their work for being Methodists; but had

been reinstated. In Swaledale, he “found an earnest, loving, simple

people, whom he likewise exhorted not to leave the Church, though they

had not the best of ministers.”

While in the north, Wesley wrote as follows to his sister, Mrs. Hall.

“NEAR NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE, _June 14, 1761_.

“DEAR PATTY,—Why should any of us live in the world without doing a

little good in it? I am glad you have made a beginning. See that you

are not weary in well doing; for it will often be a cross. But bear

the cross; the best fruit grows under the cross.

“I have often thought it strange, that so few of my relations should

be of any use to me in the work of God. My sister Wright was, of whom

I should least have expected it; but it was only for a short season.

My sister Emily and you, of whom one might have expected more, have,

I know not how, kept at a distance, and sometimes cavilled a little,

at other times, as it were, approved, but never heartily joined in the

work. Where did it stick? Did you not thoroughly understand what my

brother and I were doing? Did you not see the truth? Or, did the cause

lie in your heart? You had no will to join hand in hand. You wanted

resolution, spirit, patience. Well: the day is far spent. What you do,

do quickly.

“My work in the country cannot be finished before the latter end of

August, as the circuit is now larger by some hundred miles than when I

was in the north two years ago. Oh let the one thing be ever uppermost

in our thoughts!

“To promote either your temporal or eternal good will always be a

pleasure to,

“Dear Patty, your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[427]

Let us follow Wesley in his enlarged circuit. His labours were

prodigious. He writes: “Three days in a week I can preach thrice a

day without hurting myself; but I had now far exceeded this, besides

meeting classes and exhorting the societies.”

On the 15th of June, he rode to Durham, and preached in a field, by the

river side, “the congregation,” says Christopher Hopper, his companion,

“behaving tolerably well, except that one poor man was hit by a

stone, and lost a little blood.” In the evening, Wesley preached at

Hartlepool, Hopper remaining behind to preach in the field at Durham,

where a gentleman, so called, hired a base fellow to strip himself

naked, and swim the river so as to disturb the hearers.[428] Shortly

after this, Durham had its Methodist society, one of the first members

of which was Mrs. Elizabeth Ward, whose house was the home of Wesley

and his preachers,—a neat but nervous Christian lady, who, at the age

of eighty-three, died in 1826, calling upon her friends to “magnify the

Lord!”[429].

From Hartlepool, Wesley proceeded to Stockton, where Methodism had

been fostered, if not introduced, by John Unthank, a farmer and local

preacher, at Billingham, who, besides meeting a class at Stockton,

and another at Billingham, met a third at Darlington, at a distance

of fifteen miles. He died in 1822, aged ninety-three.[430] One of

Unthank’s first converts was John MacGowan, the son of a prosperous

baker at Edinburgh, and intended for a minister of the Church of

Scotland, but who, at nineteen years of age, joined the rebel army

of the Pretender, and fought at the battle of Culloden. He then fled

to Durham, and apprenticed himself to a linen weaver, and was now

tossing the shuttle in the vicinity of Stockton. MacGowan became a

local preacher; but, being Calvinistic in his sentiments, he left the

Methodists, and, in 1766, became the minister of Devonshire Square

chapel, London, where he continued until his death in 1780. His

“Dialogues of Devils,” his “Shaver,” and other works, making two octavo

volumes, were once in great repute. He was a man of good natural

abilities, and of lively imagination, a hard student, and a laborious

preacher. His death was triumphant, some of his last words being,

“Methinks I have as much of heaven as I can hold.”[431] Before leaving

Stockton, it may be added, that, in 1769, a small chapel, twelve yards

by nine, with a gallery at the end, was built; and that, afterwards,

Stockton society sent out Christopher Smith, who removed to Cincinnati,

in the United States, about the year 1800, where his joiner’s shop was

then the only Methodist place of preaching, and he himself made the

twenty-second member of the Methodist society, in “the queen city of

the west,” now so beautifully built on the banks of the Ohio.[432]

After preaching at Stockton, Wesley went to Darlington, and preached

his first sermon there. Here Methodism had been introduced by Unthank

and MacGowan, and its meeting-house was a thatched cottage with a

mudden floor. One of its first converts was John Hosmer, who afterwards

became an itinerant preacher, was a son of thunder, and a man mighty in

prayer and in the Scriptures, but whose failing health obliged him to

relinquish the itinerancy, when he settled as a surgeon at Sunderland,

and, after enduring great affliction, died in peace, at York, about the

year 1780.[433]

Leaving Darlington, Wesley went to Yarm, where Mr. George Merryweather

had fitted up his hayloft for a preaching room, in which, for three

years past, the people had been favoured with a sermon or sermons, from

the itinerant preachers, on at least every alternate Sunday. In 1763,

the hayloft cathedral was superseded by a chapel, and Yarm was the head

of a Methodist circuit, embracing Stockton, Hartlepool, Guisborough,

Stokesley, Whitby, Thirsk, Ripon, Northallerton, and thirty other

places.[434] For many years, Mr. Merryweather was one of Wesley’s most

faithful friends; and, of course, his house, at Yarm, was Wesley’s

home. Here he always met with the most loving welcome, and sometimes

with _softer_ kindness than he wished. An old Methodist, at Yarm, a

few years ago, related that she well remembered Wesley,—his cassock,

his black silk stockings, his large silver buckles, and his old

lumbering carriage, with a bookcase inside of it. In fact, she herself

and another little girl, while playing, ran the pole of the carriage

through Mr. Merryweather’s parlour window, for which they deservedly

received a scolding. She further stated that, on one occasion, when

Mr. Merryweather’s servant entered Wesley’s room, she found Wesley’s

coachman rolling himself up and down the feather bed most vigorously,

because, as he affirmed, Wesley would not sleep in it until it was made

as hard as possible.

Wesley held the quarterly meeting of the stewards of the Yarm circuit

at Hutton Rudby, a small country village, with a new chapel, and a

society of about eighty members, of whom nearly seventy were believers,

and sixteen sanctified. He also preached at Potto, where Mrs. Moon

resided, one of his valued correspondents and friends, whose conversion

had been brought about by an old woman, a Methodist from Birstal, who

came to the house of Mr. Moon to card his sheep “doddings,” and to

spin them into linsey woolsey yarn.[435] In this way, Methodism was

originated at Potto, Hutton Rudby, Stokesley, and the neighbourhood

round about.

Wesley visited his old friend Mr. Adams, the popish priest, at

Osmotherley, heard a useful sermon in the parish church, and then

preached in the churchyard himself. He proceeded to Guisborough,

where Thomas Corney, who, for about half a century, entertained

the preachers, and who died in the faith, in 1807, was one of the

members.[436] Here also resided John Middleton, a miller, who, in 1766,

removed to Hartlepool, where, for many years, he was the best friend

that Methodism had, and where he peacefully expired in 1795.[437]

From Guisborough, Wesley went to Whitby, and preached on the top of

a hill which had to be ascended by a hundred and ninety steps. At

Robinhood’s Bay, in the midst of his sermon, a large cat, frighted out

of a chamber, leaped upon a woman’s head, and ran over the shoulders of

many more; but so intent were they upon the truths to which they were

listening, “that none of them moved or cried out, any more than if the

cat had been a butterfly.”

On June 25, Wesley wended his way to Scarborough, and preached from

a balcony, to several hundreds of people standing in the street. The

first Methodist here was a pious female of the name of Bozman, who

regularly went to Robinhood’s Bay to meet in class, a distance of

fourteen miles, which she frequently rode upon an ass. In 1756, Thomas

Brown, a local preacher, came from Sunderland, procured a preaching

room in Whitehead’s Lane, and formed a Methodist society. In 1760, Mr.

George Cussons joined them, the society now numbering six-and-thirty

members.[438] Persecution followed; and, on one occasion, Brown,

Cussons, and others were seized by a press gang, and were only released

by the interference of General Lambton, then member of parliament for

the city of Durham. In 1768, the Scarborough society sent, as its

contribution to the York quarterly meeting, the magnificent sum of half

a guinea;[439] and, four years afterwards, erected a chapel, which

Wesley pronounced a model, for its “beauty and neatness.”[440]

From Scarborough, Wesley proceeded to Hull, where he found “some

witnesses of the great salvation”; and to Beverley, Pocklington, and

York. At York, he had far the genteelest audience he had seen since

leaving Edinburgh, but he found many of the members “utterly dead,” and

the society not at all increasing, which he attributed in part to the

neglect of outdoor preaching.[441]

On July 6, Wesley proceeded to Tadcaster, and then to Otley. At

the latter place he found ten or twelve professing to be entirely

sanctified. Here resided John Whitaker, who had his first society

ticket from the hands of Grimshaw, was a Methodist sixty-eight years,

a leader sixty-four, a circuit steward more than fifty, and who

finished his course in peace in 1825, aged eighty-four.[442] Here,

especially, were the Ritchie family. John Ritchie, Esq., a sensible,

amiable, well informed, godly man, had served many years as a surgeon

in the navy. His wife was Beatrice Robinson, of Bramhope. His daughter

Elizabeth, afterwards Mrs. Mortimer, was, for many years, Wesley’s

friend and correspondent. Mr. Ritchie died in the faith in 1780; and

his wife in 1808; their house being open to Wesley and his preachers

for upward of half a century.[443] Here, as in other places, Methodism

was cradled in persecution, the resident magistrate telling the mob,

that they might do what they liked with the Methodists, except breaking

their bones.

At Knaresborough, Wesley preached in the assembly room, where “the

people looked wild enough when they came in; but were tame before they

went out.”

He then made his way to Guiseley, Bingley, and Keighley. At Bingley,

the first preaching place was a blacksmith’s shop; and among its first

Methodists were, not only Jonathan Maskew and Thomas Mitchell—honoured

names, but, Benjamin Wilkinson, a simple hearted, zealous, good old

pilgrim, who died in the parish workhouse, and found a pauper’s grave,

but at whose funeral the streets were crowded by those who wished to

do him honour, while the singers of the chapel sang a solemn hymn

of praise until they entered the sacred precincts of the parish

church, where, as Methodists, they were allowed to sing no longer.

Another Bingley Methodist, belonging to about the same period, was

Joseph Pickles, who died at the age of ninety-five, in 1829, after

being a Methodist nearly sixty-five years, leaving behind him seven

children, seventy-three grandchildren, one hundred and seventy-nine

great grandchildren, and fifty great great grandchildren, in all three

hundred and nine surviving descendants, exclusive of one hundred and

one others who died before him,—a total progeny of four hundred and

ten.[444]

On Sunday, July 12, the crowd at Haworth was so immense that, after the

liturgy had been read in the interior of the church, Grimshaw caused

a scaffold to be fixed outside one of the windows, so that Wesley, at

the same time, might preach to the congregations within and without.

Well might the preacher exclaim, as he gazed on the vast multitude, in

the picturesque churchyard, “What has God wrought in the midst of those

rough mountains!”

During the ensuing week, Wesley preached at Colne, Padiham, Bacup,

Heptonstall, Ewood, Halifax, and other places; and on Sunday, July 19,

thrice at Leeds and Birstal, where he also held a lovefeast, which,

marvellously enough, was the first that Birstal had. “Many,” says he,

“were surprised when I told them, ‘The very design of a lovefeast is a

free and familiar conversation, in which every man, yea, and woman, has

liberty to speak whatever may be to the glory of God,’”

The next week was spent in preaching in the neighbourhood. At Kippax,

he was joined by the Rev. Henry Venn; the Rev. William Romaine read

prayers; and Wesley preached on “Christ crucified, to the Jews a

stumbling block, and to the Greeks foolishness.” On the Sunday

following, he preached again at Birstal, where numbers were converted.

On July 27, he proceeded to Staincross; and thence to Sheffield. He

preached under the hollow of a rock at Matlock Bath; and opened the new

octagon chapel at Rotherham, remarking, “Pity our houses, where the

ground will admit of it, should be built in any other form.” The cost

of the Octagon was £235 16_s._ 3½_d._; the subscriptions amounted

to £68 14_s._, of which sum £20 were given by Valentine Radley, a

currier.[445] It is said that, while Wesley was preaching the opening

sermon, the rabble drove in an ass, which stood in the aisle, lifted

up its eyes to the preacher, remained quiet till the sermon was ended,

then turned round and leisurely walked away, without making the

disturbance that the mob expected.[446] Wesley pronounced the ass the

most attentive hearer that he had.

On leaving Rotherham, Wesley made his way to Lincolnshire. At

Misterton, he preached twice “to a lifeless, money getting people,” in

his sharpest manner. Epworth cross again served him as a pulpit. At

Gainsborough, he preached in “the old hall to a mixed multitude, part

civil, part rude as bears.”

At Barrow, the mob was in readiness to receive him with violence,

but their hearts failed them, and they only gave a few huzzas. At

Horncastle, they “threatened terrible things,” but contented themselves

with “a feeble shout,” as he was entering the town. At Sibsey “there

were a few wild colts.” At Boston, which, he says, was nearly as large

as Leeds, and far better built, the “congregation was much astonished,

not being used to field preaching.”

From Boston, he made his way to Norwich, and thence to London, where

he arrived on Saturday, August 22. He writes: “I found the work of God

swiftly increasing. The congregations, in every place, were larger than

they had been for several years. Many were, from day to day, convinced

of sin. Many found peace with God. Many backsliders were healed. And

many believers entered into such a rest, as it had not before entered

into their hearts to conceive. Meantime, the enemy was not wanting in

his endeavours to sow tares among the good seed. I saw this clearly,

but durst not use violence, lest, in plucking up the tares, I should

root up the wheat also.”

This brings us to an important epoch in Wesley’s history; but, before

adverting to it further, a few extracts from his letters must be given.

The first was addressed to one of his oldest itinerants, Alexander

Coates, who died in 1765. Mr. Coates was puzzled with the rumours

concerning the doctrine of Christian perfection. Wesley, after

explaining what he meant by the doctrine, proceeds in the following

characteristic style.

“OTLEY, _July 7, 1761_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,— ... This way of talking is highly offensive.

I advise you—1. If you are willing to labour with us, preach no

doctrine contrary to ours. I have preached twenty years in some of Mr.

Whitefield’s societies; yet, to this day, I never contradicted him

among his own people. I did not think it honest, neither necessary

at all I could preach salvation by faith, and leave all controversy

untouched. I advise you—2. Avoid all those strong, rhetorical

exclamations, ‘O horrid, O dreadful!’ and the like; unless when you

are strongly exhorting sinners to renounce the devil and all his

works. 3. Acquaint yourself better with the doctrine we preach, and

you will find it not dreadful, but altogether lovely. 4. Observe that,

if forty persons think and speak wrong, either about justification

or sanctification (and perhaps fancy they have attained both), this

is no objection to the doctrines themselves. They must bear their

own burden; but this does not at all affect the point in question.

5. Remember, as sure as you are that ‘believers cannot fall from

grace,’ others are equally sure they can; and you are as much obliged

to bear with them as they are to bear with you. 6. Abstain from all

controversy in public. Indeed, you have not a talent for it. You

have an honest heart, but not a clear head; practical religion is

your point. Therefore—7. Keep to this: repentance toward God, faith

in Christ, holiness of heart and life, a growing in grace and in

the knowledge of Christ, the continual need of His atoning blood, a

constant confidence in Him, and all these every moment to our life’s

end. In none of these will any of our preachers contradict you, or you

them.

“When you leave this plain path, and get into controversy, then

you think you ‘invade the glories of our adorable King, and the

unspeakable rights, and privileges, and comforts of His children’; and

can they then ‘tamely hold their peace?’ O Sander, know the value of

peace and love!

“I am, your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[447]

The following was addressed to Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell, and refers to

his clerical friends, and his difficulties with respect to them.

“BRADFORD, _July 16, 1761_.

“DEAR SIR,—Mr. Venn was so kind as to come over hither yesterday,

and spend the evening with us. I am a little embarrassed on his

account, and hardly know how to act. Several years before he came to

Huddersfield, some of our preachers went thither, carrying their lives

in their hands, and, with great difficulty, established a little,

earnest society. These eagerly desire them to preach there still; not

in opposition to Mr. Venn, (whom they love, esteem, and constantly

attend,) but to supply what they do not find in his preaching. It is

a tender point. Where there is a gospel ministry already, we do not

desire to preach; but whether we can leave off preaching because such

an one comes after, is another question; especially, when those, who

were awakened and convinced by us, beg and require the continuance

of our assistance. I love peace, and follow it; but whether I am at

liberty to purchase it at such a price, I really cannot tell.

“I hear poor Mr. Walker is near death. It seems strange that, when

there is so great a want of faithful labourers, such as he should be

removed: but the will of God is always best; and what He does, we

shall know hereafter! I have been, for some days, with Mr. Grimshaw,

an Israelite indeed. A few such as he would make a nation tremble.

He carries fire wherever he goes. Mr. Venn informs me, that Mr.

Whitefield continues very weak. I was in hope, when he wrote to me

lately, that he was swiftly recovering strength. What need have we,

while we do live, to live in earnest!

“I am, dear sir, your affectionate servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[448]

In another letter, written a month later, Wesley refers again to the

Huddersfield difficulty as follows.

“NORWICH, _August 15, 1761_.

“DEAR SIR,—Mr. Venn and I have had some hours’ conversation together,

and have explained upon every article. I believe there is no bone of

contention remaining; no matter of offence, great or small. Indeed,

fresh matter will arise, if it be sought; but it shall not be sought

by me. We have amicably compromised the affair of preaching. He is

well pleased, that the preachers should come once a month.

“I am, etc.,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[449]

This was an important precedent; and an additional indication that,

even under the most favourable circumstances, it was impossible to

absorb Methodism in the Established Church. If such was Wesley’s

difficulty, in the case of Mr. Venn and Huddersfield Methodism in 1761,

who can doubt what would have been Wesley’s answer to the advocates of

absorption, or amalgamation, in 1870?

On September 1, Wesley met his conference, in London. Three days after

it ended, John Manners wrote as follows to Mr. Merryweather, of Yarm.

“LONDON, _September 9, 1761_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—At present, there is the most glorious work in

London I have ever seen. Many scores praise God from Monday morning

till Saturday night. Their words and prayers are full of faith and

fire. We have had the most satisfactory and solemn conference that has

been held for several years. It was honoured with the presence of Mr.

Whitefield and other clergy several times. The minutes you may see

with Tommy Johnson, the assistant of your circuit.

“I am, yours, etc.,

“J. MANNERS.”[450]

Strangely enough Charles Wesley was not present. Hence the following,

addressed to him, two days after the conference closed.

“LONDON, _September 8, 1761_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—Our conference ended, as it began, in peace and love.

All found it a blessed time:

‘_Excepto, quod non simul esses, cætera læti._’

“The minutes John Jones can help you to, who sets out hence in two or

three days. The right hand of the Lord bringeth mighty things to pass.

“I do not at all think, (to tell you a secret,) that the work will

ever be destroyed, Church or no Church. What has been done to prevent

the Methodists leaving the Church, you will see in the minutes of the

conference. I told you before, with regard to Norwich, _Dixi_. I have

done, at the last conference, all I can or dare do. Allow me liberty

of conscience, as I allow you. My love to Sally. Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[451]

Unfortunately, the minutes of 1761 have not been found; but it is

evident, that separation from the Church was still a debated question.

Another matter was also probably discussed. The doctrine of entire

sanctification, attainable in an instant, by the exercise of faith,

was now agitating Methodism throughout the country. Twelve months

before this, sixteen, out of the 2350 members composing the London

society, professed to have attained to this state of grace; and these

had now increased to thirty. There were also not a few at Otley, in

Yorkshire, who declared themselves to the same effect. In fact, Otley

was the place where the perfection movement had its origin. “Here”,

says Wesley, “_began_ that glorious work of sanctification, which had

been nearly at a stand for twenty years; but which now, from time to

time, spread first through various parts of Yorkshire, afterwards

in London, then through most parts of England, next through Dublin,

Limerick, and all the south and west of Ireland. And wherever the work

of sanctification increased, the whole work of God increased, in all

its branches.”[452]

In this respect, Otley will always be famed in Methodistic annals.

Wesley heard of its sanctified Methodists; and, in 1760, he went to

visit and to examine them, one by one. The testimony of some of them he

doubted; but concerning a large majority, he writes: “Unless they told

wilful and deliberate lies, it was plain—(1) That they felt no inward

sin; and, to the best of their knowledge, committed no outward sin. (2)

That they saw and loved God every moment; and prayed, rejoiced, and

gave thanks evermore. (3) That they had constantly as clear a witness

from God of sanctification as they had of justification.” Wesley adds:

“In this, I do rejoice, and will rejoice, call it what you please. I

would to God, thousands had experienced thus much; let them afterwards

experience as much more as God pleases.”

This was an important, and, in some respects, a novel movement. Wesley

had held the doctrine of Christian perfection ever since the year

1733, when he preached his sermon on the circumcision of the heart;

but now, for the first time, he found people professing to experience

and practise it. Yea more, they professed to have attained to this

state of purity in a moment, and by simple faith.[453] No wonder Wesley

was excited, and that, besides examining the Otley Methodists, he now

began to sift those in London. Once a week, he met about thirty, who,

to use his own expression, “had experienced a deep work of God”; and

says concerning them: “Whether they are saved from sin or no, they are

certainly full of faith and love, and peculiarly helpful to my soul.”

On March 6, he writes: “I met again with those who believe God has

delivered them from the root of bitterness. Their number increases

daily. I know not if fifteen or sixteen have not received the blessing

this week.”

Wesley himself had not received it; and it is an important fact that,

so far as there is evidence to show, to the day of his death, he never

made the same profession as hundreds of his people did. He preached

the doctrine most explicitly and strongly, especially after the period

of which we are writing; but where is the proof that he professed

to experience it? All the way, in his long northern journey, he was

evidently anxious to hear what those who were entirely sanctified had

to say. He also sought information by epistolary correspondence. He

conversed with Grimshaw and his preachers. This, in some respects,

was a new fact in Methodism; and, by prayerfully sifting evidence, he

was extremely desirous to satisfy himself concerning it. At Newcastle

and in the neighbourhood, he inquired how it was that there were “so

few witnesses of full salvation;” and says, “I constantly received

one and the same answer: ‘We see now, we sought it by our works; we

thought it was to come gradually; we never expected it to come in

a moment, by simple faith, in the very same manner as we received

justification.’”[454]

We have said, that Wesley himself did not profess to have attained to

this state of grace; and hence the following extract from a letter

addressed to him by Miss B——, one of his favourite correspondents, and

bearing date “April 17, 1761.”

“Do _you_ seem to be a great way off? You are not out of God’s reach;

not farther from being healed than the man covered with leprosy was,

the moment before Christ said, ‘I will; be thou clean.’ Jesus heals

_all_ diseases as well as _one_. He does not expect you to bring Him

_fruit_ in order to fetch the _root_. All you want, He will give with

a new heart; all He asks of you is, to _claim your right_. Do you

seek a sacrifice beside? Oh, He is all-sufficient! He has paid the

full debt for both actual and original sin. By His stripes you are

healed. Why should you be without the blessing any longer? It is His

will that, from the time you read this, you should never sin against

Him any more. Now believe, and His blood shall so flow over your soul,

that no spot shall be found there. He will keep your heart, as with

a garrison, that it shall never open to anything but His love. There

needs but one grain of faith, and the mountain shall be removed.

All you say of wanting desire and earnestness, I can still say, with

regard to a farther blessing,—that constant uninterrupted intercourse

with God, of which Lopez speaks, when he says that, for thirty-six

years, he had never discontinued one moment, making an act of love

with all his strength. For want of this, I do not keep quite clear of

idle reasonings. I never had a clear _abiding_ witness, that I was

saved from sin; but I feel my soul hangs on Jesus, and I do believe He

will keep me for ever. My peace is more solid than it was at first,

and my soul seems more sunk into God. But what I judge more by, is the

change I feel; my one desire is to do His will: and I feel nothing but

love to every creature, let them use me well or ill. Oh pray for me,

and stir up all you can, to seek all my Saviour has to give.”[455]

This extract is given, not because it contains no unjustifiable

expressions, but because it establishes the fact already mentioned,

and because it is a fair specimen of the loose language which came

into use at this important juncture. It was addressed to Wesley, and

was published by him in one of his earliest magazines, in which he

also inserts a large number of other letters, on the same subject,

received by him at and about the period of which we are now writing.

The following are extracts taken from the correspondence, dated 1761.

“M. W.” writes to him:

“The Lord has graciously given me a clean heart; and I hope to use it

in His service. I find I speak less than I did, and what I do speak I

know is according to the will of God. Mr. Edward Perronet questioned

me much yesterday. I simply answered him; and he, at last, prayed that

he might feel what we enjoyed. Before you left town, I was agonizing

with excess of desire to love God alone. I knew the power was ready,

whenever I asked for it in faith. I found it was like throwing myself

into a rapid stream, where I must swim or perish. The Lord gave me

faith, and a sweet serenity. Prayer is sweet. I would not accept the

empire of the world, to keep me from that food of immortal souls.”

“Mr. J. C. M.” writes:

“From the time Jesus cleansed my heart from sin, I was ever happy in

His love; though, at times, I was much tempted. Satan did, indeed,

sift me as wheat; but he gained no advantage over me. His chief

temptation was, to deny the work of God; not to believe I was sealed

with His Spirit. I cried earnestly to the Lord, that, if it was not

done yet, He would do it; and, on Easter Monday, at chapel, I found

I had access unto the Father through the Son; and He showed me, He

had made with _me_ an everlasting covenant. I then knew, my soul was

_sealed_ in heaven with the blood of Jesus. I could say, ‘I am the

Lamb’s wife’; and was answered, ‘the spotless bride.’ From this time,

I never found a doubt that God had taken away the root of sin; but

yet, as the light shined clearer, I saw many things lacking in my

soul. I wanted to have my whole _mind_, and to have all my _thoughts_

fixed on God. Above all, I wanted to live every moment in a spirit of

sacrifice. My peace increased; but I found Satan had power to inject

wandering thoughts, and thereby cloud my understanding, so that I

could not clearly discern the state of my soul. On April 30, for near

two hours, my cry was, ‘Let my whole _mind_ be fixed on Thee!’ I trust

to Thy faithfulness, to keep my _mind_, as Thou hast kept my _heart_.

I _will_ believe, and according to my faith it shall be unto me.’ At

first indeed, this faith was weak; but it grew stronger and stronger.

The next day Satan assaulted me on every side, to draw my _mind_ from

God; but I am enabled to stand on my watchtower, and to keep the eye

of my soul continually fixed on the Lamb of God.”

Another correspondent, who professed entire sanctification, was

questioned by Wesley concerning _wandering_ thoughts, and answered:

“Useless, unedifying thoughts pass through, though they do not lodge

in, my _mind_. Therefore, I judge I have not received the blessing

which others have; but I have a clear witness, that my _heart_ never

departs from God, and am enabled to discern, that I do offer unto the

Lord an uninterrupted act of love. Still, I live too much _without_,

not enough _within_. My life is not sufficiently a hidden life. I

_would_ find, in the whole creation, nothing but God and my own soul.”

Another says:

“In the latter end of February, my wife wrote me concerning the

work God was doing in London; adding, that one of my acquaintance

had gotten a _clean heart_. I started when I read that word; but I

hastened home. My soul thirsted for God, and most of the day was spent

in prayer. I called God _my Father_; and knew He _could_ save me

_now_. Meantime, Satan was ready to tear me in pieces, till I cried

vehemently, ‘Lord! wouldst Thou have me believe Thee?’ As soon as I

spoke, He answered, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt

be saved.’ My soul fell upon Him; I _did_ believe, and peace sprung up

like a river in my soul. I cannot tell you, what a glorious liberty

I was now brought into. I hung upon Him, and loved Him with all my

heart. Since then, my heart has been continually burning with love to

God and all mankind. I laid at His feet, and loathed myself. He talked

with me all the day long. I found Him building up the ruined places,

and making my soul as a watered garden. After a while, however, I

found my _mind_ wandering as I walked in the street. I told brother

Biggs of it. He said, ‘You want to have your _mind_ stayed upon God,

as well as your affections.’ I saw the thing clearly. It was not long

before some of our brethren spoke of having received this blessing.

I clearly saw, that I did love God with all my _heart_; but that

this was wanting still, that _every thought should be brought into

subjection to the obedience of Christ_. This I expected to receive at

the Lord’s table, but did not. Then, I prayed the Lord to show me the

hindrance. And He _did_ show me; I had been seeking it, as it were, by

the works of the law. I then pleaded the blood of Jesus Christ, and

cast myself upon Him, believing. And I felt His power delivering me, I

think, more clearly than when He took the root of bitterness out of my

heart. The deadness to all things, which I have found since then, is

more than I can express.”

Hannah Harrison gives an account of obtaining this entire freedom from

sin; but adds:

“For some time, all the evidence I could produce arose from the nature

of the change. I found the want of a clear and _direct_ witness. This

I received about February 1759; and this I have never lost, but can

acknowledge, to the glory of God, that it is as clear now as at the

first. I know not how to describe the difference between the witness

and the work itself; but this I know; many, in whom we believe the

work is wrought, are often in doubt concerning it; whereas, the

testimony of the Spirit enables the soul to rise superior to those

doubtful disputations, which sometimes hinder the progress of those

who are really saved from sin. I neither have, nor desire to have a

witness, that ‘sin will never enter more;’ for my everlasting life

depends upon patiently continuing in well doing. I feel great love to

Jesus Christ; but when I think of God the Father, I can find nothing

but boundless inconceivables. Many unnecessary things are presented

to my imagination; but, as soon as they appear to be such, I can as

easily dismiss them as I can move my hand. ‘Tis long since I had the

shadow of a doubt of my final acceptance with God; but yet, I cannot

say, that I am sealed to the day of redemption. Though I am possessed

of every natural passion, it is long since I felt a desire, inordinate

either in kind or degree.”

John Fox testified that he “knew he was saved from sin, and loved

God with all his _heart_; yet his _mind_ was not always stayed upon

Him. But he saw, that this, as well as the former blessing, was to be

received by simple faith. From this time, he continually prayed for

an increase of faith; and it was not long before his soul was brought

as into the immediate presence of God, who, from that hour, did every

moment keep his _heart_ and his _mind_ also.”

Daniel Carney said:

“Mr. M—— spoke some time since, concerning the necessity of watching

over the wandering of the eye and ear. This struck me exceedingly;

for I remembered how often, when I was happy in God, my eye was

nevertheless wandering, to look at my child, or something else that

did not profit. I cried mightily to be delivered from this; and one

morning pleaded that promise, ‘Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace,

whose mind is stayed on Thee,’ I said, ‘Why not now, Lord? Thou canst

give it me _now_!’ Immediately it was to me according to my faith. I

have found no wanderings since.”

Carney adds:

“Brother Biggs and Calvert received the same blessing about the same

time. This morning, Sarah Guildford, and another of our brethren,

testified the same thing. And they all declare, this is as different

from what they received before, as that is from justification.”

These testimonies might be multiplied; but enough has been adduced,

to show that great excitement existed. All agreed that the _second_

blessing, as it was often termed, was to be obtained by simple faith;

but, on other matters, there was much confusion. Some speak of a

_direct witness_ of entire sanctification; others speak of persons

entirely sanctified who were without such witness. Some speak not only

of a _second_, but a _third blessing_; not only of the sanctification

of the _heart_, but of the _mind_; and speak of them as distinct acts,

experienced at different times, though both obtained by faith.

Wesley was a student of the Bible. He drew his theology from that; but

he was always anxious to have his theology confirmed by the experience

of Christians. For this purpose, when he, in 1738, embraced the

doctrine of justification by faith only, he went to Herrnhuth to make

himself acquainted with the views and feelings of the people in that

Moravian settlement; and now, in 1761, when the doctrine of entire

sanctification from sin, attainable in an instant, by simple faith, was

becoming popular among the Methodists, he not only weighed the doctrine

in the balances of holy Scripture, but did his utmost to ascertain what

those who professed to experience it had to say concerning it. There

was much to be disapproved; but there was also much to be encouraged.

In the midst of the agitation, Wesley wrote, “Otley, July 7, 1761:”

“The perfection I teach, is perfect love; loving God with all the

heart: receiving Christ as Prophet, Priest, and King, to reign alone

over all our thoughts, words, and actions. The papists neither teach

nor believe this; give even the devil his due. They _teach_ there is

no perfection here, which is not consistent with _venial_ sins; and

among venial sins they commonly reckon fornication. Now this is so far

from the perfection I teach, that it does not come up to any but Mr.

Relly’s perfection. To say, Christ will not reign alone in our hearts,

_in this life_, will not enable us to give Him _all_ our hearts. This,

in my judgment, is making Him _half_ a Saviour; He can be no more, if

He does not _quite save_ us from our sins.”[456]

In another letter, dated “December 26, 1761,” he says:

“I know many who love God with all their heart, mind, soul, and

strength. He is their one desire, their one delight, and they are

continually happy in Him. They love their neighbour as themselves.

They feel as sincere, fervent, constant a desire for the happiness

of every man, good or bad, friend or enemy, as for their own. They

rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks.

Their souls are continually streaming up to God in holy joy, prayer,

and praise. This is plain, sound, scriptural experience. And of this

we have more and more living witnesses.

“But these souls dwell in a shattered, corruptible body, and are so

pressed down thereby, that they cannot _exert_ their love as they

would, by always thinking, speaking, and acting _precisely right_. For

want of better bodily organs, they sometimes inevitably think, speak,

or act wrong. Yet, I think, they need the advocacy of Christ, even for

these involuntary defects; although, they do not imply a defect of

_love_, but of _understanding_. However that be, I cannot doubt the

fact. They are _all love_; yet they cannot _walk_ as they desire. ‘But

are they _all love_ while they grieve the Holy Spirit?’ No surely:

they are then fallen from their steadfastness; and this they may do

even after they are sealed. So that, even to such, strong cautions are

needful. After the heart is cleansed from pride, anger, and desire,

it may suffer them to re-enter. Therefore, I have long thought, some

expressions in the hymns are abundantly too strong; as I cannot

perceive any state mentioned in Scripture from which we may not, in a

measure at least, fall.”[457]

As already stated, much loose language on the subject of entire

sanctification was employed; though, for this, Wesley can hardly be

held responsible. Still it gave offence, and created disquietude.

Grimshaw wrote to Wesley a letter, dated “July 23, 1761,” complaining,

that even some of the preachers had said: “He is a child of the devil,

who disbelieves the doctrine of sinless perfection; and he is no true

Christian, who has not attained to it.” Grimshaw adds:

“Brother Lee declared, (and I could not but believe him,) that

you did, and would utterly reject any such expressions. _Sinless_

perfection is a grating term to many of our dear brethren; even to

those who are as desirous to be holy in heart and life, as any perhaps

of them who affect to speak in this unscriptural way. Should we not

discountenance the use of it, and advise its votaries to exchange

it for terms less offensive, but sufficiently expressive of true

Christian holiness? By this, I mean all that holiness of heart and

life, which is literally, plainly, abundantly taught us all over the

Bible; and without which no man, however justified through faith in

the righteousness of Christ, can ever expect to see the Lord. This

is that holiness, that Christian perfection, that sanctification,

which without affecting strange, fulsome, offensive, unscriptural

expressions, I ardently desire and strenuously labour to attain. This

is attainable: for this let us contend; to this let us diligently

exhort and excite all our brethren daily; and this the more as we see

the day—the happy, the glorious day—approaching.”[458]

Wesley acted upon Grimshaw’s hint; and, before the conference in

London broke up, preached from the text, “In many things we offend

all;” from which he took occasion to observe—(1) That, as long as the

soul is connected with the body, it cannot think but by the help of

bodily organs. (2) As long as these organs are imperfect, we shall

be liable to _mistakes_, both speculative and _practical_. (3) For

all these we need the atoning blood, as indeed for every defect or

omission. Therefore, (4) All men have need to say daily, _forgive us

our trespasses_.[459]

About the same time, he preached and published his sermon on “Wandering

Thoughts,” in which he lays it down, that every man, either in sleep,

or from some other cause, is, more or less, innocently delirious every

four-and-twenty hours; and that the only “wandering thoughts,” which

are sinful, and from which we should pray to be delivered, are—(1) All

those thoughts which wander from God, and leave Him no room in the

mind; (2) all which spring from sinful tempers; (3) all which produce

or feed sinful tempers. In summing up the whole, he writes: “To expect

deliverance from wandering thoughts, occasioned by evil spirits, is to

expect that the devil should die or fall asleep. To expect deliverance

from those which are occasioned by other men, is to expect, either

that men should cease from the earth, or that we should be absolutely

secluded from them. And to pray for deliverance from those which are

occasioned by the body, is, in effect, to pray that we may leave the

body.”

The sermon is well worth reading; and, at the time, was of the utmost

importance, in checking the fanaticism of the London Methodists

respecting what they called the sanctification of the _mind_.

Conference being ended, Wesley “spent a fortnight more in London,

guarding both the preachers and people against running into extremes

on the one hand or the other”; and then, on Sunday, September 20, set

off, by coach, to Bristol, where he employed the next six weeks. “Here

likewise,” he writes, “I had the satisfaction to observe a considerable

increase in the work of God. The congregations were exceeding large,

and the people hungering and thirsting after righteousness; and every

day afforded us fresh instances of persons convinced of sin, or

converted to God. Indeed, God was pleased to pour out His Spirit this

year, on every part both of England and Ireland; perhaps, in a manner

we had never seen before; certainly not for twenty years. Oh what pity,

that so many even of the children of God did not know the day of their

visitation!”

At Kingswood the society, which had been much diminished, had now

again nearly three hundred members, “many of whom,” says he, “were

now athirst for full redemption, which for some years they had almost

forgotten.” He desired all in Bristol and its neighbourhood, who

believed themselves to be entirely sanctified, to meet him. About

eighteen responded. He says, “I examined them severally, as exactly as

I could; and I could not find anything in their tempers (supposing they

spoke true) any way contrary to their profession.”

On October 31, Wesley returned to London, and immediately began a

course of sermons on Christian perfection. On November 23 he went to

Canterbury, where he found many with “a deeper work of God in their

heart than they ever had before.” On Sunday, November 29, he writes:

“We had a lovefeast in London, at which several declared the blessings

they had found lately. We need not be careful by what name to call

them, while the thing is beyond dispute. Many have, and many do daily,

experience an unspeakable change. After being deeply convinced of

inbred sin, particularly of pride, self will, and unbelief, in a

moment, they feel all faith and love; no pride, no self will, or anger;

and, from that moment, they have continual fellowship with God, always

rejoicing, praying, and giving thanks. Whoever ascribes such a change

to the devil, I ascribe it to the Spirit of God.”

With the exception of a brief visit to Colchester, the remainder of the

year was spent in London, part of the time being occupied in writing

“Farther Thoughts on Christian Perfection,” and part in removing

misunderstandings fomented by Thomas Maxfield and others, which will

have to be more fully noticed in ensuing pages.

The following letter to Charles Wesley, who was out of health, is full

of interest.

“LONDON, _December 26, 1761_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—Spend as many hours in the congregation as you can;

but exercise alone will strengthen your lungs; or electrifying, which

I wonder you did not try long ago. Never start at its being a quack

medicine. I desire no other; particularly since I was so nearly

murdered by being cured of my ague _secundum artem_. You should always

write standing and sloping.

“We are always in danger of enthusiasm; but I think no more now than

any time these twenty years. The word of God runs indeed, and loving

faith spreads on every side. Do not take my word, or any one else’s;

but come and see. It is good to be in London now.

“It is impossible for me to correct my own books. I sometimes think it

strange, that I have not one preacher that will and can. I think every

one of them owes me so much service.

“Pray tell R. Sheen, I am hugely displeased at his reprinting

the Nativity Hymns, and omitting the very best hymn in the

collection,—‘All glory to God in the sky,’ etc.

“I beg they may never more be printed without it. Omit one or two, and

I will thank you. They are namby-pambical. I wish you would give us

two or three invitatory hymns; we want such exceedingly. My love to

Sally. My wife gains ground. Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[460]

This was an eventful year. Charles Wesley was ill, and out of town.

Wesley was most of the time employed in visiting country societies.

London was left in the hands of inexperienced and enthusiastic guides;

and a great work of God was injured by the fanaticism of well meaning

but weak minded people. But more of this anon.

The year began with an attack, in the _London Magazine_, on the

Methodist doctrine of assurance, the writer taking upon himself to

say, that “the Methodists insist, that they themselves are sure of

salvation; but that all others are outcasts from God’s favour, and in a

damnable state.”[461] In other articles, in the same periodical, Wesley

was branded as “an enemy to religion, and a deceiver of the people;”

“an enthusiast, a very great enthusiast;” with no more “knowledge of

and esteem for the holy Scriptures than a Mahommedan.”[462] It is

affirmed, that one of Wesley’s preachers, “who instructed the good

people of England, at or near Rye, in Sussex, was known to be a popish

priest, by a gentleman, who was no stranger to his person and functions

in foreign parts.” The writer continues: “the Methodists may with as

much reason be considered good sons of the Church, as an unruly boy

that runs away from his parents may be deemed a dutiful, obedient

child. I can consider them only as spies, deserters, and incendiaries.

Was I to form a judgment of Christ’s disciples by your followers, very

just would be the sarcasm of Zosimus on Christianity, ‘That it was only

a sanctuary for villains,’”[463] In fact, “Methodism was a spurious

mixture of enthusiasm and blasphemy, popery and quakerism.”[464]

Wesley replied to this anonymous scribbler, in a characteristic letter,

dated “February 17, 1761,” and addressed “to Mr. G. R., _alias_ R.

A., _alias_ M. K., _alias_ R. W.” He writes: “As you are stout, be

merciful; or I shall never be able to stand it. Four attacks in one

month! and pushed so home! Well, I must defend myself as I can.” And

defend himself he did, most trenchantly.[465]

Another writer described the Methodists as “a race of men, which

seemed to bear a near resemblance to the new species of rats. They

were amphibious creatures, between the church and the conventicle,

as those animals are between land and water. They made settlements

in every part of the country, and devoured the fruits of the earth;

they drew the simple folk from that necessary business, which God and

nature designed them for, to the great loss, if not total ruin, of

their families; and they filled men’s heads with doubts and fears, and

emptied their pockets of their money.”[466]

Further attacks were made in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, and in other

periodicals, but of a more moderate and courteous character; with the

exception of an infamous article in _St. James’s Chronicle_, in which

Whitefield is ridiculed, in a long, lying piece, entitled “Similes,

Metaphors, and Familiar Allusions made use of by Dr. Squintum.” There

was likewise published a scandalous pamphlet of thirty-two pages,

bearing the title of “A Journal of the Travels of Nathaniel Snip, a

Methodist Teacher of the Word; containing an account of the marvellous

adventures which befel him on his way from the town of Kingston upon

Hull to the city of York.” Another production was an octavo pamphlet,

of forty-three pages, entitled, “An Address to the Right Honourable

——; with several Letters to the D—— of —— from the L——. In vindication

of her conduct on being charged with Methodism.” In this high sounding

piece of preposterous pretentiousness, Methodist preachers are

described as men who “think their _assurance_ to be the _gift_, and

their _nonsense_ to be the _dictates_, of the Holy Ghost.” They are

like some of the “designing men” mentioned by Tillotson, who “recommend

themselves to the ignorant, by talking against reason, just as nurses

endear themselves to children by noise and nonsense.”

The most respectable onslaught, in 1761, was in two sermons, preached

before the university of Oxford, at St. Mary’s, on Act Sunday, July

12, by Dr. Hitchcock, fellow of St. John’s college, and one of the

preachers at his majesty’s chapel at Whitehall; and on July 19, by the

Rev. John Allen, M.A., vice principal of St. Mary Magdalene hall.” Dr.

Hitchcock’s sermon was entitled, “The mutual Connection between Faith,

Virtue, and Knowledge,” and was published at the request of the vice

chancellor, and the heads of houses; Mr. Allen’s bore the title of “No

Acceptance with God by Faith only,” and was published at the request

of the vice chancellor alone. There can be little doubt, that this was

a concerted movement, and was intended to be an unanswerable refutation

of Wesley’s heresies. Of course, such men were not likely to employ

the coarse abuse which newspapers and magazines were wont to cast upon

the Methodists; but even here, in St. Mary’s, before the university

of Oxford, where Methodism had its rise, and after it had existed and

triumphed for more than twenty years, Dr. Hitchcock coolly told the

vice chancellor, the heads of houses, and his illustrious congregation,

that the Methodists were men of “no knowledge”; that they were building

“up a church upon enthusiasm, rhapsody, and nonsense”; and Mr. Allen

“willingly undertook” to refute “the leading tenet of modern enthusiasm

by proving the following proposition, That faith, in its highest

degree, when alone, or distinct from other virtues, is so far from

saving or justifying any person, that it doth not _necessarily produce_

good works.”

Wesley himself was too busy, in 1761, to write and publish much. His

productions were the following.

1. “A Plain Account of Genuine Christianity.” 12mo, 12 pages. This

was simply a reprint of the conclusion of Wesley’s letter to Dr.

Middleton, published in 1749. Wesley’s description of a Christian, and

of Christian faith, in this little tract, deserves the reader’s best

attention.

2. “An Extract of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Journal, from February 16,

1755, to June 16, 1758.” 12mo, 146 pages.

3. “Select Hymns: with Tunes Annexed: designed chiefly for the Use

of the People called Methodists.” 12mo, 139 pages. Would that the

Methodists of the present day would sing the tunes furnished by their

founder, instead of leaving choirs to repeat, parrot like, the inane

noises now too generally attached to Charles Wesley’s glorious and

glowing hymns, and which, by a monstrous perversion of truth, taste,

and language, are considered sacred music of pure and classic type.

We are weary of such singing in Methodist chapels, and most deeply

deplore the day when, by some mistaken theoriser, it was introduced.

It is devouring the very vitals of Methodistic worship, and no more

harmonizes with the Wesley hymns than an automatic scarecrow with a

breathing, living man.

Musicians, in Wesley’s day, were as self conceited and as obstinate as

musicians now. In the preface to his Tunes Annexed, he tells us:

“I have been endeavouring, for more than twenty years, to procure such

a book as this; but in vain. Masters of music were above following any

direction but their own; and I was determined, whoever compiled this

should follow _my_ direction: not _mending_ our tunes, but setting

them down, neither better nor worse than they were. At length, I have

prevailed. The following collection contains all the tunes which are

in _common use_ among us. They are pricked _true_, exactly as I desire

all our congregations may sing them; and here is prefixed to them

a collection of those hymns which are, I think, some of _the best_

we have published. The _volume_ likewise is _small_, as well as the

_price_. This, therefore, I recommend, preferable to all others.”

Appended to the tunes are Wesley’s well known directions concerning

singing, which it would be well if all his societies would follow.

Wesley himself was full of music, and to this, in great part, may be

attributed the glorious singing of the early Methodists. With such

a leader, and with their hearts full of the love of God, it is not

surprising that their service of praise has become proverbial. They

sang with the spirit, and with the understanding also.

It may be added here, once for all, that Wesley’s book of music,

with some variations and improvements, was republished in several

succeeding years, with the altered titles of “Sacred Melody; or, a

Choice Collection of Psalm and Hymn Tunes”; and “Sacred Harmony: or, a

Choice Collection of Psalm and Hymn Tunes, in two or three Parts—for

the Voice, Harpsichord, and Organ.” These editions are now before us;

but further description is unnecessary.

1762

[Sidenote: 1762 Age 59]

Whitefield and Charles Wesley were still invalids, and, though they

preached with more or less frequency, their evangelistic labours, in

1762, were limited when compared with the labours of former years.

Wesley began the year with a grand service, in the chapel at

Spitalfields, at which nearly two thousand members of the London

society were present. Besides Berridge and Maxfield, he was assisted by

Benjamin Colley, a young man, born at Tollerton, near Easingwold, who

had recently received episcopal ordination, and was now officiating,

as a clergyman, in Methodist chapels. His ministerial gifts were

small;[467] but his piety was sincere and earnest. Strangely enough,

this young Yorkshire Levite was carried away by the fanatical

enthusiasm of Bell and Maxfield (to be noticed shortly), and though

he did not live more than half-a-dozen years afterwards, his life was

clouded, and not what it might have been.[468]

The remarkable work of sanctification was rapidly spreading throughout

the whole of the United Kingdom. Wesley wrote:

“Many have been convinced of sin, many justified, and many backsliders

healed. But the peculiar work of this season has been, what St. Paul

calls ‘the perfecting of the saints.’ Many persons in London, in

Bristol, in York, and in various parts, both of England and Ireland,

have experienced so deep and universal a change, as it had not entered

into their hearts to conceive. After a deep conviction of inbred sin,

of their total fall from God, they have been so filled with faith and

love (and generally in a moment), that sin vanished, and they found,

from that time, no pride, anger, desire, or unbelief. They could

rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks.

Now, whether we call this the destruction or suspension of sin, it is

a glorious work of God; such a work as, considering both the depth and

extent of it, we never saw in these kingdoms before. It is possible

some have been mistaken; and it is certain some have lost what they

then received. A few (very few, compared to the whole number) first

gave way to enthusiasm, then to pride, next to prejudice and offence,

and at last separated from their brethren. But although this laid a

huge stumbling block in the way, still the work of God went on. Nor

has it ceased to this day in any of its branches. God still convinces,

justifies, sanctifies. We have lost only the dross, the enthusiasm,

the prejudice, and offence. The pure gold remains, faith working by

love, and, we have ground to believe, increases daily.”[469]

This was written at the end of 1763. On the last day of 1762, Wesley

remarked in his Journal: “I looked back on the past year; a year of

uncommon trials and uncommon blessings. Abundance have been convinced

of sin; very many have found peace with God; and, in London only, I

believe full two hundred have been brought into glorious liberty. And,

yet, I have had more care and trouble in six months, than in several

years preceding. What the end will be, I know not; but it is enough

that God knoweth.”

To understand Wesley’s allusions here, we must briefly glance at the

history of two of the principal men concerned.

Thomas Maxfield was one of Wesley’s first preachers. For more than

twenty years, he had acted under Wesley’s direction. His origin in

Bristol was humble, but he had married a wife with considerable

fortune. At Wesley’s instigation, a friend had recommended him to Dr.

Barnard, bishop of Londonderry, for ordination. The bishop said, “Sir,

I ordain you, to assist that good man, that he may not work himself

to death.”[470] Maxfield thus became one of Wesley’s most important

preachers; and, perhaps, this was one of the reasons why not a few

regarded him with envy. At all events, many censured him; and Wesley

“continually and strenuously defended him; thereby offending several of

his preachers, and a great number of his people.”

As early as 1760, Wesley had appointed Maxfield to meet, every

Friday, a sort of select band in London, consisting of Messrs. Biggs,

Latlets, Calvert, and Dixon,[471] all of whom professed to be entirely

sanctified. Some of these favoured ones soon had dreams, visions, and

impressions, as they thought, from God; and Maxfield, instead of

repressing their whimsies, encouraged them. Presently, their visions

created contempt for those who had them not; and were regarded as

proofs of the highest grace. Some of the preachers opposed these holy

visionaries with a considerable amount of roughness. This excited their

resentment. They refused to hear their rebukers preach, and followed

after Maxfield. Their numbers multiplied; and Maxfield told them,

they were not to be taught by man, especially by those who had less

grace than themselves. The result was, when Wesley returned to London

in October, 1762, he found the society in an uproar, and Maxfield’s

friends formed into a sort of detached connexion. Enthusiasm, pride,

and intense uncharitableness were now the chief characteristics of

these high professors. Wesley tenderly reproved them. One of them

resented, and cried out, “We will not be browbeaten any longer; we

will throw off the mask;” and, accordingly, returned her own and her

husband’s tickets, saying, “Sir, we will have no more to do with you;

Mr. Maxfield is our teacher.”

At the conference of 1761, Maxfield had been arraigned, for some

misdemeanour not specified; but Wesley spoke in his defence, and

silenced his accusers.[472] Still Wesley was in doubt concerning him,

and wrote him a long letter, telling him mildly all he heard or feared

concerning him. Maxfield resented, and said he had no thought of a

separation, and that Wesley was at liberty to call him John or Judas,

Moses or Korah, as he pleased. He alleged, that Wesley and his brother

contradicted the highest truths; and that almost all who “called

themselves ministers of Christ, or preachers of Christ, contended for

sin to remain in the heart as long as we live, as though it was the

only thing Christ delighted to behold in His members.”

George Bell, a native of Barningham, near Barnard castle, had been a

corporal in the Life Guards. He was converted in the year 1758, and

pretended to be sanctified in the month of March, 1761. A few days

afterwards, he wrote an account of this to Wesley, in a letter tinged

with a frenzy, which Wesley was too ready to regard as the breathings

of a superior piety.[473] Bell soon developed into a full blown

enthusiast, and helped to taint not a few of his Methodist associates.

He began to hold meetings of his own, declaring, that God had _done_

with all preachings and sacraments, and was to be found nowhere but in

the assemblies of himself and his London friends.[474] He diligently

propagated the principle, that “none could teach those who are renewed

in love, unless they were in the state themselves.”[475] His admirers

fancied themselves more holy than our first parents, and incapable

of falling. They professed to have the gift of healing, and actually

attempted to give eyesight to the blind, and to raise the dead.[476]

From a misconstrued text in the Revelation, they inferred, that they

were to be exempt from death.[477] Wesley writes, on November 24, 1762:

“Being determined to hear for myself, I stood where I could hear and

see, without being seen. George Bell prayed, in the whole, pretty near

an hour. His fervour of spirit I could not but admire. I afterwards

told him what I did not admire; namely, (1) his screaming, every now

and then, in so strange a manner, that one could scarce tell what he

said; (2) his thinking he had the miraculous discernment of spirits;

and, (3) his sharply condemning his opposers.”

Meanwhile, Wesley and his brother had an interview with Maxfield,

and found that, in some things, he had been blamed without a cause;

other things he promised to alter. On November 1, 1762, Wesley sent

to Maxfield, Bell, and others, a written statement of what he liked

and disliked in their doctrine, spirit, and behaviour. In reference

to the first, he says, he liked their “doctrine of perfection or love

excluding sin; their insisting that it is merely by faith; that it is

instantaneous, though preceded and followed by a gradual work; and,

that it may be now, at this instant.” But he disliked their “supposing

man may be as perfect as an angel; that he can be absolutely perfect;

that he can be infallible, or above being tempted; or, that the moment

he is pure in heart, he cannot fall from it.” He disliked their

“depreciating justification, by saying a justified person is not born

of God, and that he cannot please God, nor grow in grace.” He disliked

their doctrine, that a sanctified person needs no self examination, no

private prayer; and that he cannot be taught by any one who is not in

the same state as himself.

Then, in reference to their _spirit_, he told them, that he liked their

confidence in God, and their zeal for the salvation of sinners; but

he disliked (1) their appearance of pride, of overvaluing themselves,

and undervaluing others; (2) their enthusiasm, namely, overvaluing

feelings and impressions, mistaking the mere work of the imagination

for the voice of the Spirit, expecting the end without the means,

and undervaluing reason, knowledge, and wisdom in general; (3) their

antinomianism, in not magnifying the law enough, in not sufficiently

valuing tenderness of conscience, and in using faith rather as

contradistinguished from holiness than as productive of it; and (4),

their littleness of love to their brethren, their want of union with

them, their want of meekness, their impatience of contradiction, their

counting every man an enemy who reproved or admonished them in love,

their bigotry and narrowness of spirit, and their censoriousness or

proneness to think hardly of all who did not agree with them.

As to their outward behaviour, he liked “the general tenour of their

life, devoted to God, and spent in doing good”; but he disliked their

slighting any of the rules of the society; their appointing meetings

which hindered people attending the public preaching; their spending

more time in their meetings than many of them could spare from the

duties of their calling; the speaking or praying of several of them

at once; their praying to the Son of God only, or more than to the

Father; their using bold, pompous, magnificent, if not irreverent,

expressions in prayer; their extolling themselves rather than God, and

telling Him what they were, not what they wanted; their using poor,

flat, bald hymns; their never kneeling at prayer, and using postures or

gestures highly indecent; their screaming so as to make what they said

unintelligible; their affirming people will be justified or sanctified

just now, and bidding them say, ‘I believe’; and their bitterly

condemning all who oppose them, calling them wolves, and pronouncing

them hypocrites, or not justified.”

This is a mournful picture, especially of people making such high

professions. The result was, the London society was thrown into great

confusion. Wesley writes: “1762, November 8—I began visiting the

classes; in many of which we had hot spirits to deal with. Some were

vehement for, some against, the meetings for prayer, which were in

several parts of the town. I said little, being afraid of taking any

step which I might afterwards repent of.”

The delay in the exercise of discipline was too long. For twelve

months, Wesley had seen it necessary to deal with these enthusiasts.

At the beginning of 1762, he wrote to his brother: “If Thomas Maxfield

continue as he is, it is impossible he should long continue with us.

But I live in hope of better things. This week, I have begun to speak

my mind concerning five or six honest enthusiasts. But I move only a

hair’s breadth at a time. No sharpness will profit. There is need of a

lady’s hand, as well as a lion’s heart.”

We incline to think Wesley used the lady’s hand too long, and that the

lion’s paw would have been far more useful. At length, however, he

began to preach on the subject. On December 5, 1762, he endeavoured to

show in what sense sanctification is gradual, and in what sense it is

instantaneous. A fortnight later, he preached on Christian simplicity,

showing that it is not ignorance or folly, nor enthusiasm or credulity;

but faith, humility, willingness to be taught, and freedom from evil

reasonings. Despite all this, Bell waxed worse and worse; and, on

December 26, Wesley desired him to take no further part in the services

at West Street, or at the Foundery. “The reproach of Christ,” he

writes, “I am willing to bear; but not the reproach of enthusiasm, if I

can help it.” In a manuscript letter, dated “London, January 28, 1763,”

Sarah Crosby writes:

“There has been much confusion here. The simple brethren keep

meeting at various places, brother Bell being their chief speaker.

The substance of what they say is, ‘Believe, and be simple. Believe

all that is in the word of God, and all that is not there,—that is,

if anything is revealed to you.’ They say they have a great gift in

discerning spirits; but others dispute it. Nevertheless, I think they

are good folk, and there has been a great outpouring of the Spirit in

London these two or three years past.”