“I have a particular regard for Mr. Maxfield and Mr. Bell; both of
them are my correspondents. I am strongly prejudiced in favour of the
witnesses, and do not willingly receive what is said against them;
but allowing that what is reported is one half mere exaggeration,
the tenth part of the rest shows that spiritual pride, presumption,
arrogance, stubbornness, party spirit, uncharitableness, prophetic
mistakes,—in short, every sinew of enthusiasm, is now at work among
them. I do not credit any one’s bare word; but I ground my sentiments
on Bell’s own letters.”[478]
Bell consummated his fanaticism, by prophesying that the world would
be brought to an end on February 28, 1763; and, strange to say, not
a few believed him. The evil spread. Wesley preached sermons on the
sin of division, and on judging; but what he said was “turned into
poison” by those who needed his admonitions; and one of the friends of
Bell remarked: “If the devil had been in the pulpit, he would not have
preached such a sermon.” Meanwhile, Maxfield was privately promoting
disunion, telling the people that Wesley was not capable of teaching
them, and insinuating that no one was except himself. Mrs. Coventry
came to Wesley, and threw down the tickets of herself, her husband,
her daughters, and her servants, declaring that “they would hear two
doctrines no longer, and that Mr. Maxfield preached perfection, but Mr.
Wesley pulled it down.” About a dozen others, including Bell, copied
Mrs. Coventry’s example. Maxfield, in a huff, removed his meeting
of the sanctified from the Foundery, because Wesley instructed his
preachers to be present at it, whenever he was not able to be there
himself. One of the seceders told Wesley to his face, that he was a
hypocrite, and, for that reason, they had resolved to have no further
fellowship with him. About thirty, who thought themselves sanctified,
had left the society; but there were above four hundred others, who
witnessed the same confession, and seemed more united than ever.
Meanwhile, the 28th of February, 1763—George Bell’s day of
judgment—drew nigh. Wesley denounced the mad corporal’s
prognostication, in private, in the society meetings, in the pulpit,
and, at length, in the public papers. He says that Maxfield was silent
on the subject, and that he had reason to think he was a believer
in Bell’s prophecy; though Maxfield himself afterwards denied that
this was true.[479] Be that as it might, a number of Maxfield’s
followers spent the night at the house of his most intimate friend, Mr.
Biggs, every moment in full expectation of hearing the blast of the
archangel’s trumpet.
On the day previous to the predicted final catastrophe, Bell and his
believers ascended a mound near the site of St. Luke’s hospital, to
have a last look at the city before its conflagration;[480] but,
unfortunately for the mad prophet, two constables, with a warrant,
arrested him, and carried him first before a magistrate in Long
Acre, and then before another in Southwark, as it was there, “in an
unlicensed meeting-house, that he had often vented his blasphemies.”
The Borough magistrate committed him to the new prison, there to await
the fulfilment of his prediction.[481] “I am sorry,” writes Whitefield,
“to find that Mr. Bell is taken up. To take no notice would be the
best method. A prison or outward punishment is but a poor cure for
enthusiasm, or a disordered understanding. It may increase but not
extinguish such an _ignis fatuus_.”[482]
On the evening of what was to be the world’s last day, Wesley preached
at Spitalfields, on “Prepare to meet thy God”; and largely showed the
utter absurdity of the supposition, that the world was to end as Bell
predicted; but, notwithstanding all that he could say, many were afraid
to go to bed, and some wandered in the fields, being persuaded that, if
the world at large did not become a wreck, at all events an earthquake
would engulf London.
Of course, Bell’s insane ravings turned out to be a fantastic
falsehood; but the injury done to Methodism was serious. A
writer, signing himself “Philodemas,” sent an abusive letter to
_Lloyd’s Evening Post_, stating that, on going to a friend’s house
on the evening of February 28, he found the family in the utmost
consternation, because they were momentarily expecting the world to
be dissolved; and then he proceeds to denounce Methodism as “the most
destructive and dangerous system to government and society that ever
was established. Neither good subjects, good servants, nor good wives
could reasonably be expected to be found amongst the Methodists.
Nursed up in enthusiasm and pretended miracles, attended with the
dangerous doctrine of _assuring grace_, they had learned to look upon
the rest of their fellow creatures as a set of wretches reserved for
vengeance hereafter. There was scarce a street in the metropolis, where
the common people lived, but what was infected, more or less, with
this heretical system; some boasting their sins were forgiven; some
in despair; many raving mad; and others neglecting their necessary
occupations for the sake of it, and living in beggary and misery.”[483]
Wesley replied to this as follows.
“_March 18, 1763._
“SIR,—A pert, empty, self sufficient man, who calls himself
‘Philodemas,’ made use of your paper, a few days ago, to throw
abundance of dirt at the people called Methodists. He takes occasion
from the idle prophecy of Mr. Bell, with whom the Methodists have
nothing to do, as he is not, nor has been for some time, a member
of their society. Had he advanced anything new, or any particular
charge, it would have deserved a particular answer. But, as his letter
contains nothing but dull, stale, general slanders, which have been
confuted ten times over, it would be abusing the patience of your
readers to say any more concerning it.
“I am, sir, your humble servant,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[484]
After all, this deplorable outburst of fanaticism, in the London
society, was not without good results. It was now, in 1763, that Wesley
wrote his important sermon on “Sin in Believers,” in which he says:
“I cannot, by any means, receive this assertion, that there is no sin
in a believer from the moment he is justified; first, because it is
contrary to the whole tenour of Scripture; secondly, because it is
contrary to the experience of the children of God; thirdly, because
it is absolutely new, never heard of in the world till yesterday,
when those under the direction of the late Count Zinzendorf preached
it; and lastly, because it is naturally attended with the most fatal
consequences; not only grieving those whom God hath not grieved, but
perhaps dragging them into everlasting perdition.”
It was now also, that Wesley published his “Cautions and Directions
given to the greatest Professors in the Methodist societies;” which, in
brief, were as follows: 1. Watch and pray continually against pride.
2. Beware of enthusiasm. 3. Beware of antinomianism. 4. Beware of sins
of omission. 5. Beware of desiring anything but God. 6. Beware of
schism. 7. Be exemplary in all things. The reader, who wishes to have
a full view of the extravagances of those who professed sanctification
in 1762, will do well to read Wesley’s “Cautions and Directions,” at
length, as elaborated by himself. An enormous evil had sprung up, and
it was one of the greatest facts of his eventful life, that Wesley was
able to check the bad and to preserve the good.
On April 28, 1763, Maxfield fully and finally separated himself from
Wesley, the latter taking as his text on the occasion, “If I am
bereaved of my children, I am bereaved.” In 1767, Maxfield, in his
vindication of himself, gave his views of sanctification,—views misty,
mystical, and muddy, and, to say the least, widely different from those
of Wesley.
He became Wesley’s enemy. “He spake,” says Wesley, “all manner of evil
of me, his father, his friend, his greatest earthly benefactor. To
Mr. M——n he said, ‘Mr. Wesley believed and countenanced all which Mr.
Bell said; and the reason of our parting was this: he said to me one
day,—Tommy, I will tell the people you are the greatest gospel preacher
in England; and you shall tell them I am the greatest! For refusing to
do this, Mr. Wesley put me away!’”
That Maxfield should utter such calumnies is almost incredible; and
yet, it is certain that, in his “Vindication,” he writes of his old
friend in terms not the most respectful. He talks of Wesley’s “penny
history of Methodism”; whines about Wesley injuring his character, and
thereby his usefulness; complains of Wesley keeping scores, if not
hundreds, of his spiritual children from him; declares that, while
he disapproved of Bell’s proceedings, Wesley encouraged them; taunts
him with having been guilty of the same enthusiasm as Bell by his
gloomy prophecies concerning Dr. Halley’s comet; asserts, that the
reasons Bell assigned for leaving Wesley were his “double dealings
and unfaithful proceedings”; and says that, in a society meeting at
the Foundery, Wesley boastfully glorified himself, with the following
epitaph of Philip of Macedon:—
“Here Philip lies, on the Dalmatian shore,
Who did what mortal never did before.
Yet, if there’s one who boasts he more hath done,
To me he owes it, for he was my son.”
Maxfield lived twenty years after this separation. He took with him
about two hundred of Wesley’s London society, and preached to a large
congregation in a chapel in Ropemaker’s Alley, Little Moorfields.
Towards the close of life he again became friendly with the Methodists;
and Wesley visited him in his last illness, and also preached in his
chapel.[485] In 1766, Maxfield published a hymn-book of more than four
hundred pages, many of his hymns being selections from those published
by his old friends, the Wesleys. In the preface, he still complains
of persecution, in being represented as “heading a party of wild
enthusiasts”; but says, “such a groundless charge deserves no answer,”
and appeals to his hymn-book as a proof.
George Bell, for many years, was Maxfield’s survivor, but made no
pretension to religion. “He recovered his senses,” says Southey, “to
make a deplorable use of them; passing from one extreme to another,
the ignorant enthusiast became an ignorant infidel; turned fanatic in
politics, as he had done in religion; and, having gone through all the
degrees of disaffection and disloyalty, died, at a great age, a radical
reformer.”
We only add that, in 1762, Charles Wesley, who had been laid aside by
ill health from preaching, published, in two volumes, his “Short Hymns
on Select Passages of the Holy Scriptures,” in the preface to which
he says: “Several of the hymns are intended to prove, and several to
guard, the doctrine of Christian perfection. I durst not publish one
without the other. In the latter sort I use some severity; not against
particular persons, but against enthusiasts and antinomians, who, by
not living up to their profession, give abundant occasion to them that
seek it, and cause the truth to be evil spoken of.”
Mr. Jackson writes:
“Until this time, it had been understood, that Mr. Charles Wesley
agreed with his brother on this as well as every other doctrine of
Christian verity; although he had repeatedly used unguarded expressions
in his hymns, which could not be justified. But now his views on this
subject appear to have undergone a change, in consequence of the
extravagance and pride of which he was a distressed witness. He did
not, from this time, contend, as do many, for the necessary continuance
of indwelling sin till death; but he spoke of Christian perfection as
a much higher attainment than either he or his brother had previously
regarded it. In his estimation, it is not to be obtained by a present
act of faith in the mercy, truth, and power of God; but is rather the
result of severe discipline, comprehending affliction, temptation, long
continued labour, and the persevering exercise of faith in seasons
of spiritual darkness, when the heart is wrung with bitter anguish.
By this painful and lingering process, he believed that the death of
‘the old man’ is effected, and a maturity is given to all the graces
of the Christian character. Hence, he condemned ‘the witnesses,’ as he
called them; that is, the persons who testified of the time and manner
in which they were delivered from the root of sin, and made perfect in
love, regarding them as self deceived. In some of his ‘Short Hymns,’ he
has given considerable importance to these peculiarities of opinion.
“This change in Mr. Charles Wesley’s manner of speaking on the subject
of Christian perfection, as might be expected, gave considerable
uneasiness to his brother, who felt it to be very undesirable that
they should even seem to contradict each other in their ministry and
writings. In a letter, therefore, to Miss Furley, he says, ‘Take care
you are not hurt by anything in the “Short Hymns,” contrary to the
doctrines you have long received.’ And, on the same subject, he also
says, in a letter to Charles,—‘That perfection which I believe, I can
boldly preach; because I think I see five hundred witnesses of it. Of
that perfection which you preach, you think you do not see any witness
at all. Why, then, you must have far more courage than me, or you could
not persist in preaching it. I wonder you do not, in this article,
fall in plumb with Mr. Whitefield. For do not you, as well as he, ask,
“Where are the perfect ones?” I verily believe there are none upon
earth; none dwelling in the body. I cordially assent to his opinion,
that there is no such perfection here as you describe; at least, I
never met with an instance of it; and I doubt I never shall. Therefore
I still think, to set perfection so high is effectually to renounce it.’
“At a subsequent period, he again addressed Charles on the same
subject. ‘Some thoughts,’ says he, ‘occurred to my mind this morning,
which, I believe, it may be useful to set down; the rather, because it
may be a means of our understanding each other clearly; that we may
agree as far as ever we can, and then let all the world know it.
“‘I was thinking on Christian perfection, with regard to the thing, the
manner, and the time.
“‘1. By perfection I mean the humble, gentle, patient love of God and
man, ruling all the tempers, words, and actions; the whole heart, and
the whole life.
“‘I do not include a possibility of falling from it, either in part
or in whole. Therefore, I retract several expressions in our hymns,
which partly express, partly imply, such an impossibility. And I do not
contend for the term _sinless_, though I do not object against it. Do
we agree or differ here? If we differ, wherein?
“‘2. As to the manner, I believe this perfection is always wrought
in the soul by faith, by a simple act of faith; consequently, in an
instant. But I believe a gradual work, both preceding and following
that instant. Do we agree or differ here?
“‘3. As to the time, I believe this instant generally is the instant of
death, the moment before the soul leaves the body. But I believe it may
be ten, twenty, or forty years before death. Do we agree or differ here?
“‘I believe it is usually many years after justification; but that
it _may be_ within five years, or five months after it. I know no
conclusive argument to the contrary. Do you?
“‘If it _must be_ many years after justification, I would be glad to
know how many. _Pretium quotus arrogat annus?_ And how many days, or
months, or even years, can you allow to be between perfection and
death? How far from justification _must_ it be? and how near to death?
“‘If it be possible, let you and me come to a good understanding, both
for our own sakes, and for the sake of the people.’
“What answer Mr. Charles Wesley returned to this candid and sensible
letter, we have no means of ascertaining.”[486]
The reader must excuse this long digression, on the ground, (1) That
the enthusiasm of this period was one of the great events in Wesley’s
history, and issued not only in a disruption of the London society,
but in serious results which were more than coeval with Wesley’s life.
John Pawson, in a manuscript letter, dated “London, January 13, 1796,”
remarks: “We have a very blessed work here; but the old people are
so afraid of George Bell’s work returning, that they can hardly be
persuaded it is the work of God, because of a little disorder that
attends it.” And a month later, he writes: “The good work is not so
lively as it was. This, I think, has been chiefly caused by the old
members being so exceedingly afraid of George Bell’s days. An excess
of prudence has hindered it.” We have here, thirty-three years after
Maxfield and Bell’s secession, one of the effects of their fanatical
behaviour. Then, (2) it must be borne in mind, that it was not until
now that the doctrine of Christian perfection, attainable in an
instant, by a simple act of faith, was made prominent in Methodist
congregations; but that, ever after, it was one of the chief topics
of Wesley’s ministry, and that of his itinerant preachers. Of this we
shall have ample proof in succeeding pages.
We now return to Wesley’s Journal, and follow him in his
peregrinations, during the year 1762. “This year,” says he, “from the
beginning to the end, was a year never to be forgotten. Such a season
I never saw before. Such a multitude of sinners were converted, in all
parts both of England and Ireland, and so many were filled with pure
love.”[487]
On January 2, he set out for Everton, to supply for Berridge, who was
hard at work in London, and whose church and pulpit he occupied on two
successive Sundays, preaching to large and lively congregations; but
not now witnessing there any of the extravagances which had been so
manifest a few years before. “Indeed,” says Wesley, “the people were
now in danger of running from east to west. Instead of thinking, as
many did then, that none can possibly have true faith but those that
have trances, they were now ready to think, that whoever had anything
of this kind had no faith.”
During his sojourn at Everton, Wesley visited many of the surrounding
villages, and everywhere testified the gospel of the grace of God.
Though it was the depth of winter, he preached at Harston by moonlight.
In every place, crowds flocked to hear him. Some cried out in great
distress, others dropped down as dead; and several found peace with God.
On January 12 he came to Norwich, where he excluded two hundred
members, because they neglected to meet in class; and left about four
hundred remaining, “half of whom appeared to be in earnest.”
Returning to London on January 23, he writes: “I had a striking proof,
that God can teach by whom He will teach. A man full of words, but not
of understanding, convinced me of what I could never see before, that
_anima est ex traduce_, that all the souls of his posterity, as well as
their bodies, were in our first parent.”
On the 15th of March, Wesley left London for Ireland, taking Bristol
and Wales on his way. He arrived at Dublin about three weeks
afterwards. For the first time, he now saw Dublin chapel “_throughly
filled_.”
On April 19, he started on his tour through the Irish provinces. At
Newry, the society had been reduced from nearly a hundred members to
thirty-two. At Carrickfergus, he had to delay the morning preaching,
because “the delicate and curious hearers could not possibly rise
before ten o’clock.” At Belfast, he preached in the market house. At
Newtown, “the poor shattered society was reduced from fifty to eighteen
members,” which were doubled, however, before he left. At Lisburn he
had “many rich and gentle hearers.” At Lurgan he had, what he had long
desired, an opportunity of conversing with Mr. Miller, who had executed
a piece of mechanism “the like of which was not to be seen in Europe.”
At Clanmain, he opened the new chapel. At Enniskillen, “the inhabitants
gloried, that they had no papist in the town.” At Sligo, he preached
to “abundance of dragoons, and many of their officers;” a company of
strolling players acting in the upper part of the market house, while
the Methodists sang hymns below.
It was either here, or somewhere else in Ireland, that Wesley met
with an adventure worth relating. The scene is a public house, the
spectators a number of Irish tipplers; the performers in the drama,
Wesley, a termagant landlady, and a starving player. The last mentioned
reclines on a wooden couch in the chimney corner, arrayed in a motley
dress that, like its owner, seemed to have seen better days. The
landlady, addressing him in furious tones, bawls rather than speaks:
“Turn out, you pitiable ragamuffin; plenty of promises, but no money;
either pay your way, or you and your doll of a wife turn out.” Just
at this juncture, Wesley enters, and the terrible tongued woman, in
an instant, becomes one of the mildest of Abigails. “Dear sir,” she
says, “I am glad you’re come; this man, sir, is a very bad man, sir;
as you said in your sermon yesterday, ‘He that oppresseth the poor is
a bad man,’ sir.” “What has he done?” asks Wesley. “Why, sir, I have
kept him and his wife for a fortnight, and have never seen the colour
of his money. Three crowns is my due, and I’ll have it, if law can get
it.” “Who is this gentleman?” “Who is he? why he is one of those you
preach against, one of your player men. I wish you could preach them
out of the town. Why, sir, they are all starving. I don’t think this
man has got a good meal for a fortnight, except what I have given him,
and now you see his gratitude.” Wesley approached the poor, starving,
dejected actor, and said: “You serve the stage, young man; would I
could teach you to serve your God; you would find Him a better Master.
Pardon me, I mean not to upbraid you, or to hurt your feelings. My
Master sent you this;” putting into his hand a guinea; “retire, and
thank Him.” “Who is your master?” cried the actor; “where and how shall
I thank him?” “God is my Master; return Him thanks.” “How?” “On your
knees when in private; in public at all times, in your principles and
in your practice; farewell, go comfort your wife and children.” The
poor, astonished player, though a dealer in words, was dumbfoundered,
and sobbing a gratitude which he was not able to articulate, he left
the room. “Three crowns is your demand on our afflicted brother?” said
Wesley to the termagant. “Yes, sir, fifteen shillings; and if he does
not pay me, I’ll seize his rags upstairs, sell them, and pay myself.”
“I will pay you,” said Wesley; “but what can you think of yourself? How
terrible will be your condition on your death bed, calling for that
mercy, which you refuse to a fellow creature! I shudder whilst under
your roof, and leave it, as I would the pestilence. May the Lord pardon
your sins!” With this, he put fifteen shillings on the table, and made
his exit. “Pardon my sins?” quoth the irate female tapster; “pardon
my sins, indeed! and why not his own? I’ll warrant he has as much to
answer for as I have; getting a parcel of people together, that ought
to be minding their work. Why it was only yesterday, he was preaching
everybody to the devil that encouraged the players, and to-day he
is the first to do it himself.” “This gentleman is a clergyman, I
suppose,” said one of the spectators. “A clergyman!” replied the
landlady; “not he, indeed; it’s only John Wesley, the Methodist, that
goes preaching up and down, and draws all the idle vagabonds of the
country after him.”[488]
Space forbids our following Wesley to Longford, Athlone, Hollymount,
Newport, Galway (where all the society were young women), Limerick,
Cork, Youghal, Kinsale, Bandon, Waterford, Kilkenny, Birr,
Portarlington, and other places. “Poor, dead Portarlington!” writes
Wesley; “and no wonder it should be so, while the preachers coop
themselves up in a room with twenty or thirty hearers. I went straight
to the market place, and cried aloud, ‘Hearken! behold a sower went
forth to sow.’ God made His word quick and powerful, and sharp as a
two-edged sword.”
Wesley got back to Dublin on July 26, and, a few days afterwards,
embarked for England.
On reviewing the work in Ireland, he says that, in Dublin, he found
forty persons who professed to have obtained the blessing of entire
sanctification within the last four months. Contrasting the work there
with that in London, he writes:
“1. It is far greater in Dublin than in London, in proportion to
the time and the number of the people. That society had above
seven-and-twenty hundred members; this not above a fifth part of the
number. Six months after the flame broke out in London, we had about
thirty witnesses of the great salvation. In Dublin, there were above
forty in less than four months.
“2. The work was more pure. In all this time, while they were
mildly and tenderly treated, there were none of them headstrong or
unadvisable; none that were wiser than their teachers; none who dreamed
of being immortal or infallible, or incapable of temptation; in short,
no whimsical, or enthusiastic persons; all were calm and sober minded.
I know several of these were, in process of time, moved from their
stedfastness. I am nothing surprised at this; it was no more than might
be expected; I rather wonder, that more were not moved. Nor does this,
in any degree, alter my judgment concerning the great work which God
then wrought.”
In Limerick, the society was stirred up by Wesley to seek entire
deliverance from sin; and, in a few weeks, ten women and thirteen men
professed to obtain the blessing. This Wesley considered a greater work
than even that at Dublin.
On reaching England, he found, at Chester, about a dozen who believed
themselves sanctified, and whose lives did not contradict their
profession. At Liverpool, where the work of sanctification had begun
in the previous month of March, he spoke severally with those who said
they had been fully saved from sin. They were fifty-one in number;
twenty-one men, twenty-one women, and nine young people or children.
In one of these, the change was wrought three weeks after she was
justified; in three, one week; in one, five days; and in Sus. Lutwich,
aged fourteen, two days only. At Macclesfield, he spoke to forty, one
by one, who believed the blood of Christ had cleansed them from all
unrighteousness. He writes: “Some of them said they received that
blessing ten days, some seven, some four, some three days, after they
found peace with God; and two of them the next day. What marvel, since
one day is with God as a thousand years!” At Manchester, he spoke with
sixty-three who “believed God had cleansed their hearts; to about sixty
of whom he could find no reasonable objection.”
We give these facts as we find them. The reader will form his own
opinion concerning them.
On August 10, Wesley met his conference, at Leeds, at which were
present Lady Huntingdon, with the Revs. Messrs. C. Wesley, Whitefield,
Romaine, Madan, and Venn.[489] Of the proceedings of this conference we
know nothing. Wesley simply says: “We had great reason to praise God
for His gracious presence from the beginning to the end.”
Wesley got back to London on the 19th of August, and, four days
afterwards, set out for Cornwall. When he began service at Exeter,
his congregation consisted of two women and one man. “This,” says he,
“comes of omitting field preaching.” He himself went out of doors, and
preached, on Southernhay green, to “a multitude of people; but a lewd,
profane, drunken vagabond had so stirred up many of the baser sort,
that there was much noise, hurry, and confusion.”
At Polperro, he had abundance of people; but “an old, grey-headed
sinner bitterly cursed all the Methodists.”
At Truro, he expected some disturbance, as it was market day; but all
was quiet. “Indeed,” says he, “both persecution and popular tumult
seem to be forgotten in Cornwall.” Here resided a clergyman, Mr. C——,
who was also a magistrate, but had not always been as peaceable as
now. Some years before, a Methodist preacher, at his instigation, was
arrested as a vagrant. To his astonishment, the vagrant turned out
to be Wesley, an old college acquaintance at Oxford. His worship,
however, proceeded, in severe language, to censure Wesley’s irregular
proceedings; when, all at once, the floor of the room, which was
filled with spectators, fell; the magistrate was hurled from his
judicial chair; his wig flew off his head; the table, with its pens,
ink, and paper, was overturned; while screams from all sides increased
the general confusion. When order was restored, and the clerical
functionary was once more seated, Wesley, with his characteristic
coolness asked, “Well, sir, shall we proceed further in this business?”
“No, no,” replied the magistrate, “go your way, go your way, Mr.
Wesley; ‘sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’” After this
affair, Wesley had no farther trouble from his reverend acquaintance,
Mr. C——.[490]
Wesley spent a month in visiting the Cornish societies, and held the
quarterly meeting of the stewards of the two circuits into which the
county was divided. He writes concerning the eastern circuit: “What
a change is wrought in one year’s time! That detestable practice of
cheating the king is no more found in our societies. And since that
accursed thing has been put away, the work of God has everywhere
increased.”
It is a remarkable fact, however, that he mentions no instances of
sanctification during his Cornish tour; but remarks: “The more I
converse with believers in Cornwall, the more I am convinced, that
they have sustained great loss for the want of hearing the doctrine of
Christian perfection clearly and strongly enforced. I see, wherever
this is not done, the believers grow dead and cold. Nor can this be
prevented, out by keeping up in them an hourly expectation of being
perfected in love. I say an hourly expectation; for to expect it at
death, or some time hence, is much the same as not expecting it at all.”
Wesley returned to London on November 6, reading on the road “The Death
of Abel,” concerning which he characteristically observes: “That manner
of writing, in prose run mad, I cordially dislike; yet, with all that
disadvantage, it is excellent in its kind, as much above most modern
poems as it is below ‘Paradise Lost.’”
The rest of the year was spent in the metropolis, and its immediate
vicinity. He buried the remains of Jane Cooper, “a pattern of all
holiness, and of the wisdom which is from above”; he transcribed his
answer to Warburton; he corrected his notes on the Apocalypse; at the
desire of Maxfield, he baptized two foreigners, who professed to have
been Turks; and he tried to control, though far too tenderly, the
insane ravings of George Bell and the high professors.
We have already mentioned the Rev. Mr. Furley, a clergyman of the
Church of England, as one of Wesley’s correspondents. Mr. Furley
was the brother of Miss Furley, who, in 1763, became the wife of
John Downes, one of Wesley’s first preachers. The brother and sister
were now resident at Kippax, near Ferrybridge, in Yorkshire; and the
following letters, addressed to them during the year 1762, will be read
with interest.
“LONDON, _January 25, 1762_.
“DEAR SAMMY,—If you entangled yourself with no kind of promise to the
archbishop, I doubt not but your ordination will prove a blessing.
The care of a parish is, indeed, a weighty thing, which calls for
much and earnest prayer. In managing it, you must needs follow your
own conscience, whoever is pleased or displeased. Then, whether your
success be less or more, you will, by-and-by, give up your account with
joy.
“I myself hear frequently unscriptural, as well as irrational,
expressions from those at whose feet I shall rejoice to be found in
the day of the Lord Jesus; but blasphemy I never heard from one of
them, either teacher or hearer. What is wide of Scripture or reason, I
mildly reprove; and they usually receive it in love. Generally they are
convinced; when I cannot convince, I can bear with them, and, indeed,
rejoice at the grace of God which is in them.
“Sammy, beware of the impetuosity of your temper! It may easily lead
you awry. It may make you evil affected to the excellent ones of the
earth. Don’t expect propriety of speech from uneducated persons. The
longer I live, the larger allowances I make for human infirmities. I
exact more from myself, and less from others. Go thou and do likewise!
I am, with love to Nancy,
“Your ever affectionate friend and brother,
“JOHN WESLEY.
“Take nothing, absolutely nothing, at second hand.”[491]
The next contains an invitation to Mr. Furley to meet Wesley at the
conference about to be held in Leeds, and treats on, what was then the
great topic of the time, Christian perfection.
“DUBLIN, _July 30, 1762_.
“DEAR SAMMY,—‘If I am unanswered, then I am unanswerable.’ Who can
deny the consequence? By such an argument you carry all before you,
and gain a complete victory. You put me in mind of the honest man, who
cried out, while I was preaching, ‘_Quid est tibi nomen?_’ and, upon
my giving no answer, called out vehemently, ‘I told you he did not
understand Latin.’
“I do sometimes understand, though I do not answer. This is often the
case between you and me. You love dispute, and I hate it. You have much
time, and I have much work. _Non sumus ergo pares._ But if you will
dispute the point with Nicholas Norton, he is your match. He has both
leisure and love for the work.
“For me, I shall only once more state the case. There are forty or
fifty people, who declare (and I can take their word, for I know them
well), each for himself, ‘God has enabled me to rejoice evermore, and
to pray and give thanks without ceasing. I feel no pride, no anger, no
desire, no unbelief, but pure love alone.’ I ask, ‘Do you then believe
you have no further need of Christ, or His atoning blood?’ Every one
answers, ‘I never felt my want of Christ so deeply as I do now.’ But
you think: ‘They cannot want the merit of His death, if they are saved
from sin.’ They think otherwise. They know and feel the contrary,
whether they can _explain_ it, or no. There is not one, either in this
city, or in this kingdom, who does not agree in this.
“Here is a plain fact. You may dispute, reason, cavil about it, just
as long as you please. Meantime, I know, by all manner of proof, that
these are the happiest and holiest people in the kingdom. Their light
shines before men. They have the mind that was in Christ, and walk as
Christ also walked. And shall I cease to rejoice over these holy, happy
men, because they mistake in their judgment? If they do, I would to God
you and I and all mankind were under the same mistake; provided we had
the same faith, the same love, and the same inward and outward holiness!
“I am, dear Sammy, yours affectionately,
“JOHN WESLEY.
“Will you not meet us at Leeds on the 10th of August?”[492]
The next two letters were both written on the same day: the first being
addressed to Mr. Furley, the second to his sister.
“ST. IVES, _September 15, 1762_.
“DEAR SIR,—I have entirely lost my taste for controversy. I have
lost my readiness in disputing; and I take this to be a providential
discharge from it. All I can now do, with a clear conscience, is,
not to enter into a formal controversy about the new birth, or
justification by faith, any more than Christian perfection, but simply
to declare my judgment; and to explain myself as clearly as I can upon
any difficulty that may arise out of it.
“I still say, and without any self contradiction, I know no persons
living, who are so deeply conscious of their needing Christ, both as
prophet, priest, and king, as those who believe themselves, and whom I
believe, to be cleansed from all sin; I mean, from all pride, anger,
evil desire, idolatry, and unbelief. These very persons feel more than
ever their own ignorance, littleness of grace, coming short of the
full mind that was in Christ, and walking less accurately than they
might have done after their Divine Pattern; are more convinced of the
insufficiency of all they are, have, or do, to bear the eye of God
without a Mediator.
“If Mr. M—— or you say, ‘that coming short is sin’; be it so, I contend
not. But still I say, ‘These are they whom I believe to be scripturally
perfect.’ If in saying this, I have ‘fully given up the point,’ what
would you have more? Is it not enough that I leave you to ‘boast your
superior power against the little, weak shifts of baffled error?’
‘Canst thou not be content,’ as the quaker said, ‘to lay J. W. on his
back, but thou must tread his guts out?’
“O let you and I go on to perfection! God grant we may so run as to
attain!
“I am your affectionate friend and brother,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[493]
“ST. IVES, _September 15, 1762_.
“MY DEAR SISTER,—Certainly sanctification, in the proper sense, is ‘an
instantaneous deliverance from all sin’; and includes ‘an instantaneous
power, then given, always to cleave to God.’ Yet this sanctification
(at least in the lower degrees) does not include a power never to think
a useless thought, nor ever speak a useless word. I myself believe,
that such a perfection is inconsistent with living in a corruptible
body; for this makes it impossible ‘always to think right.’ While we
breathe, we shall, more or less, mistake. If, therefore, Christian
perfection implies this, we must not expect it till after death.
“I want you to be all love. This is the perfection I believe and teach.
And this perfection is consistent with a thousand nervous disorders,
which that high strained perfection is not. Indeed, my judgment is
that, in this case particularly, to overdo is to undo; and, that to set
perfection too high (so high as no man that we ever heard or read of
attained) is the most effectual, because unsuspected, way of driving it
out of the world. Take care you are not hurt by anything in the ‘Short
Hymns,’ contrary to the doctrines you have long received. Peace be with
your spirit!
“I am your affectionate brother,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[494]
We add one more letter, addressed to Mr. Furley, on this momentous
subject.
“BRISTOL, _October 13, 1762_.
“MY DEAR BROTHER,—As to this particular question, I believe I am able
to answer every objection which can be made; but I am not able to do
it without expending much time, which may be better employed. For this
reason, I am persuaded it is so far from being my duty to enter into a
formal controversy about it, that it would be a wilful sin; it would be
employing my short residue of life in a less profitable way than it may
be employed.
“The proposition which I hold is this: A person may be cleansed from
all _sinful tempers_, and yet need the atoning blood. For what? For
negligences and ignorances; for both words and actions, as well as
omissions, which are, in a sense, transgressions of the perfect
law. And I believe no one is clear of these, till he lays down this
corruptible body.
“Now, Sammy, dropping the point of contradiction, tell me simply what
you would have more. Do you believe, that evil tempers remain till
death? All, or some? If some only, which? I love truth wherever I find
it; so if you can help me to a little more of it, you will oblige,
“Dear Sammy, yours, etc.,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[495]
Two other letters, belonging to this period, will be welcome. Both
refer to the excitement in London concerning Christian perfection, and
both were addressed to his brother Charles.
“LONDON, _December 11, 1762_.
“DEAR BROTHER,—For eighteen or twenty days, I have heard with both
ears, but rarely opened my mouth. I think I now understand the affair,
at least as well as any person in England.
“The sum is this: 1. The meeting in Beech Lane, before I came to town,
was like a bear garden; full of noise, brawling, cursing, swearing,
blasphemy, and confusion. 2. Those who prayed were partly the occasion
of this, by their horrid screaming, and unscriptural, enthusiastic
expressions. 3. Being determined either to mend them or end them,
I removed the meeting to the Foundery. 4. Immediately, the noise,
brawling, cursing, swearing, blasphemy, and confusion ceased. 5. There
was less and less screaming, and less unscriptural and enthusiastic
language. 6. Examining the society, I found about threescore persons
who had been convinced of sin, and near fourscore who were justified,
at those meetings. So that, on the whole, they have done some hurt, and
much good. I trust, they will now do more good, and no hurt at all.
Seven persons had left the society on this account; but four of them
are come back already.
“I bought the ground before Kingswood school of Margaret Ward, and
paid for it with my own money. Certainly, therefore, I have a right to
employ it as I please. What can any reasonable man say to the contrary?
“I have answered the bishop, and had advice upon my answer. If the
devil owes him a shame, he will reply. He is a man of sense; but I
verily think he does not understand Greek! Adieu!
“JOHN WESLEY.”[496]
“LONDON, _December 23, 1762_.
“DEAR BROTHER,—This is too critical a time for me to be out of London.
“I believe several in London have imagined themselves saved from sin
‘upon the word of others’; and these are easily known. For that work
does not stand; such imaginations soon vanish away. Some of these, and
two or three others, are still wild. But the matter does not stick
here. I could play with all these, if Thomas Maxfield were right. He
is _mali caput et fons_; so inimitably wrong headed, and so absolutely
unconvincible; and yet (what is exceeding strange) God continues to
bless his labours.
“My kind love to Sally. I shall soon try your patience with a long
letter. Adieu!
“JOHN WESLEY.”[497]
The bishop, referred to in one of the above letters, was Warburton,
bishop of Gloucester; but, as Wesley’s answer was not published till
the beginning of 1763, we defer any further notice of this furious
episcopal onslaught upon Wesley and his friends.
Other publications, however, must be mentioned. The following, was
an octavo shilling pamphlet, which originated in a dispute in the
_London Chronicle_; “Presbyters and Deacons not commissioned to preach
without the Bishop’s Allowance. A Discourse addressed to a certain
Methodist Clergyman.” The title suggests the substance of this bigoted
performance.
Another harmless missile, hurled at the poor Methodists, was by the
renowned translator of Plutarch’s Lives, now a young curate in the
county of Essex: “Letters on Religious Retirement, Melancholy, and
Enthusiasm. By John Langhorne.” 8vo, 87 pages. Dedicated to the Bishop
of Gloucester. The worst thing said of Methodism is, that, though
averse to popery, it holds one of its worst doctrines, namely; a
pretence to plenary inspiration; and, that all the difference between
the two systems is that, instead of one pope, the Methodists “find a
thousand in their ignorant teachers, whom they consider as so many
gods, and whose crude and undigested preachments they regard as
oracles.”
A third, and infinitely worse production, was a small half-crown
octavo, with the title, “A plain and easy Road to the Land of Bliss;
a Turnpike set up by Mr. Orator.” The _Monthly Review_ (no friend
to Methodism) remarks concerning this miserable book: “It is a dull
and indecent satire on the Methodists, in imitation, as its author
imagines, of the celebrated Tale of a Tub, which it resembles in no
respect whatever. It is not only contemptible for its stupidity; but in
itself: is a filthy, obscene thing, for which its writer ought to be
washed in a horsepond.”[498]
A fourth was the following: “A Specimen of Preaching, as practised,
among the People, called Methodists. By J. Helme.” A number of phrases,
said to be used by the Methodists, are here strung together, in the
shape of a sermon, founded upon the text, “How shall we escape, if we
neglect so great salvation?” Helme expresses, the opinion, that the
jesuits and other emissaries of the Church of Rome are at the bottom
of the Methodist “schemes of nonsense and delusion”; and that “the
manner in which the fanatics take upon themselves to treat the sublime
truths of Christianity cannot fail to shock both the ear and the
understanding of all who make any pretensions to religion or common
sense.”[499]
Another hostile publication, issued in 1762, was a miscellaneous
octavo volume, of 380 pages, entitled, “Various Tracts by the Rev.
James Penn, A.B., under Grammar Master of Christ’s Hospital, and
Lecturer of the united parishes of St. Ann and Agnes, and St. John
Zachary, Aldersgate.” The reverend pedagogue tells his readers, that
“Methodism, which arose from a slender beginning, is branched out into
various sects, and has met with such success as to become alarming.
It had its origin partly from the neglect of the superior clergy of
the duties of their function; and this neglect continued is its great
support. The clergy have talked, they have wrote, they have preached
against the Methodists and their tenets, with justice indeed, but not
without acrimony; and this has rendered their design abortive, and not
a little served the cause of their adversaries. Unless some expedient
is found to check the progress of the enthusiasm, it will soon become
formidable, and have its spacious tabernacles in every city and county,
as well as in London and Middlesex. It has encouraged a great number
of laymen, many of whom are the refuse of the people, or the meanest
of mechanics, to assume the ministerial office, and bellow out, in the
lanes and alleys of the city, their wild notions, in a language rude,
irrational, unintelligible. In their places of worship, here sits
melancholy, there despair. Sighs and groans are heard from one corner;
frightful and hideous looks are seen at another. The words of some
speak assurance of their salvation, and an uncommon familiarity with
their Maker; whilst others are overwhelmed with a horrible dread of
damnation.”
The reader has had enough of the Rev. James Penn; but we add another
extract, which will convey an idea of the reverend author’s principles.
“A man’s character is no more to be suspected by his being at a
playhouse, than at a church. All are not saints, who frequent the
latter; nor are all to be accounted sinners, who go to the former.
Players are no more to be condemned, because some of the audience
depart unimproved, than the preacher censured, if some of his
congregation should go away unedified.” In the list of subscribers to
Mr. Penn’s octavo volume, the names of fifty clergymen are given.
Wesley’s works, published in 1762, were as follows.
1. “Cautions and Directions given to the greatest Professors in the
Methodist Societies.” These were afterwards embodied in the “Plain
Account of Christian Perfection.”
2. “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. Horne: occasioned by his late Sermon
preached before the University of Oxford.” 8vo, 22 pages.
This was a pamphlet, principally on the subject of justification
by faith and works. Dr. Horne was now a young man of thirty-two
years of age; a thorough Hutchinsonian; and a considerable author.
He subsequently became chaplain to George III.; vice chancellor of
Oxford; dean of Canterbury; and, in 1790, bishop of Norwich. He was
learned, pious, and benevolent; and will always be remembered for his
“Commentary on the Book of Psalms.” Wesley’s letter is exceedingly
respectful; as indeed it ought to be. He writes: “If I have said
anything offensive, anything that implies the least degree of anger or
disrespect, it was entirely foreign to my intention. Nor indeed have I
any provocation. I have no room to be angry at your maintaining what
you believe to be the truth of the gospel: even though I might wish you
had omitted a few expressions.”
3. Another of Wesley’s publications was a small tract, entitled: “A
Blow at the Root; or Christ stabbed in the House of his Friends.” 12mo,
11 pages. The title resembles the title of another pamphlet published
“By an impartial Hand” some years previous,—“A Blow at the Root: or
an attempt to prove that no time ever was, or very probably ever will
be, so proper and convenient as the present, for introducing a further
Reformation into our National Church, Universities, and Schools. Most
humbly dedicated to his royal highness, William Duke of Cumberland.”
The object of Wesley’s tract, however, was widely different from the
object of this. His intention was to refute a heresy recently sprung
up, “that Christ had _done_, as well as suffered, _all_: that _His
righteousness_ being imputed to _us_, we need none of _our own_: that,
seeing there was so much righteousness and holiness _in Him_, there
needs no more _in us_; that, to think we have any, or to desire to
seek any, is to renounce Christ: that, from the beginning to the end
of salvation, all is _in Christ_, nothing _in man_; and that those who
teach otherwise are _legal preachers_, and know nothing of
the _gospel_.”
4. This was followed by another on the same subject, with the title,
“Thoughts on the Imputed Righteousness of Christ,” 12mo, 11 pages.
The cause of this publication was the issue of a tract, in the name
of Wesley, not one word of which was his, and which, as will be seen
hereafter, he found it necessary to repudiate in 1763.
This was not much for a man like Wesley to produce; but it must be
remembered, that, owing to his brother’s illness, he was now single
handed; and that, besides being “in journeyings often, and in perils;
in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and
thirst,” there came upon him preeminently, and almost exclusively, “the
care of all the churches.”
1763.
[Sidenote: 1763 Age 60]
In almost every successive year, the Methodist movement devolved
more and more on Wesley. His brother was in feeble health, had an
increasing family, and employed himself almost exclusively in writing
hymns, and in preaching to the Methodists of London and of Bristol.
Whitefield’s asthma had become chronic, and well-nigh disabled him.
He spent the first six months of 1763 chiefly in the north of England
and in Scotland; but, for six weeks of that period, he was entirely
silent; and during the remainder, his preaching was often intermitted,
and in no instance was more frequent than once a day. Three months
were occupied with his voyage to America, where he landed about the
beginning of September, and speaks of himself as “wearied and almost
worn out”; and where he was not able to preach more than twice or
thrice a week. Comparatively speaking, his work was already done;
though still preaching, it was as an invalid. For the last five and
twenty years, it would be difficult to say whether Whitefield or
Wesley, simply considered as evangelists, had been in labours more
abundant. For twenty-eight years after this, Wesley was almost the
only itinerant clergyman living. Grimshaw was dead; Whitefield, to a
great extent, was disabled, and, as early as the year 1770, was removed
to the rest of heaven; Charles Wesley had already become a settled
minister; Berridge’s itinerancy was confined to his own comparatively
small circuit, and to his visits to the metropolis; Romaine, Venn,
Rowland Hill, and others, had pastoral charges, which necessarily
prevented them leaving home, as often as they wished. Wesley, and
Wesley only, was unfettered. He was without a church, and really
without a home. His wife made him miserable, and he had no children to
demand his time. His health was as vigorous as ever, and his heart as
warm; and hence, while all his old clerical friends either died, or
were disabled, or otherwise were obliged to relinquish the itinerant
ministry, he and he alone ended as he first began; and, from 1735 to
1791, a period of five and fifty years, lived not the enviable life
of a settled pastor, but the homeless life of a wandering evangelist,
and devoted his health, energies, and talents to a work resembling his
who said, “I am a debtor both to the Greeks, and to the barbarians”;
“so that from Jerusalem, and round about unto Illyricum, I have fully
preached the gospel of Christ.”
At the commencement of 1763, Wesley was in the midst of the fanatical
troubles, chiefly created by Bell and Maxfield. The following letters
refer to these affairs. They were all published in the _London
Chronicle_.
“SOUTHWARK, _January 6, 1763_.
“SIR,—One Bell, said to be a Lifeguardsman, holds forth to an
assembly, near Hanover Square. He is supposed to belong to the
Methodists; but he advances things which many Methodists abhor.
Nevertheless, his delusions spread. Many of his followers think
themselves perfect, and declare they shall never die, ‘because,’ as
they say, ‘our dear Lord, who certainly will come a second time, is at
the door, and we shall see Him come.’
“God only knows where this folly of Mr. Bell’s may end, if not soon
stopped. Soon after the Reformation in Germany, many sprung up who
held that they were perfect; they despised authority, and declared
Christ was at the door (as Mr. Bell does) to destroy the world. Many
of them, men and women, worshipped naked, and appeared so in the
streets of Amsterdam and elsewhere, declaring that, as clothes came in
only in consequence of sin, so they being free from sin were to wear
none.
“IMPARTIALITY.”[500]
“WINDMILL HILL, _January 7, 1763_.
“SIR,—When I returned to London two or three months ago, I received
various accounts of some meetings for prayer, which had lately been
held by Mr. Bell and a few others. Some highly applauded them; others
utterly condemned; some affirmed they had done much good; others that
they had done much hurt. This convinced me, that it was requisite to
proceed with caution, and to do nothing rashly. The first point was
to form my own judgment, and that upon the fullest evidence. To this
end I first talked with Mr. Bell himself, whom I knew to be an honest,
well meaning man. Next, I told him they were at liberty, for a few
times, to meet under my roof. They did so, both in the society room at
the Foundery, and in the chapel at West Street. By this means, I had
an opportunity of hearing them myself, which I did at both places. I
was present also, at the next meeting after that, which is mentioned
by Mr. Dodd and Mr. Thompson, in the _Public Ledger_. The same things
which they blame I blame also; and so I told Mr. Bell the same
evening. I was in hopes they would be done away, which occasioned my
waiting till this time. But now, having lost that hope, I have given
orders that they shall meet under my roof no more.
“JOHN WESLEY.”[501]
“_February 9, 1763._
“SIR,—I take this opportunity of informing all whom it may concern—1.
That Mr. Bell is not a member of our society; 2. That I do not believe
either the end of the world, or any signal calamity, will be on the
28th instant; and 3. That not one in fifty, perhaps not one in five
hundred, of the people called Methodists, believe any more than I do,
either this or any other of his prophecies.
“I am, etc.,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[502]
Christian perfection, for a season, took the place of Church
separation. The Methodists, for years past, had been on the point
of declaring themselves Dissenters; now they were not unlikely to
become fanatics. From the first, Wesley had taught the doctrine of
Christian perfection; but now some of Wesley’s followers were in danger
of attaching to that doctrine whims which Wesley never sanctioned.
Besides, is there not truth in the statement of Dr. Whitehead, a man
well qualified to judge: “The doctrine of _perfection_, or _perfect_
love, was undoubtedly taught among the Methodists from the beginning;
but the _manner_ in which it was _now_ preached, pressing the people
to expect what was called the destruction of the _root_ of sin, in one
moment, was most certainly _new_; I can find no trace of it before the
period at which I have fixed its introduction”?[503]
Wesley’s annoyance was great, and his forbearance with the London
fanatics exposed him to the censure of his friends. John Downes,
in a letter to Joseph Cownley, wrote: “I consider the follies and
extravagance of the witnesses as the devices of Satan, to cast a
blemish upon a real work of God. The more I converse with the solid
ones, the more I long to experience what they do. It is a state worthy
of a Christian. As to the follies of the enthusiasts, Mr. Charles hears
every week less or more. Why his brother suffers them we cannot tell.
He threatens, but cannot find in his heart to put in execution. The
consequence is, the talk of all the town, and entertainment for the
newspapers.”[504]
Charles Wesley, in a letter dated February 1, 1763, remarks: “Sad
havoc Satan has made of the flock. What they will do after my
brother’s departure, I leave to the Lord; for I dare not think of it.
I gave warning four years ago of the flood of enthusiasm which has
now overflowed us; and of the sect of ranters that should arise out
of the witnesses. My last hymns are a further standing testimony.
Tell Christopher Hopper, I reverence him for his stand against the
torrent.”[505]
This was well, so far as it went; but it would have been considerably
better, if Charles Wesley had joined with his warnings and
vaticinations his active cooperation to stem the torrent of which he
had prophesied. Wesley wrote to him on February 8, saying: “The sooner
you could be here the better; for the mask is thrown off. George Bell,
John Dixon, Joseph Calvert, Benjamin Briggs, etc., etc., have quitted
the society, and renounced all fellowship with us. I wrote to Thomas”
(Maxfield), “but was not favoured with an answer. This morning I wrote
a second time, and received an answer indeed! The substance is, ‘You
take too much upon you.’”[506]
Charles evidently declined to come to his brother’s help; hence the
following extracts from two other letters, dated respectively February
26 and March 6, 1763:
“I perceive, _verba fiunt mortuo_; so I say no more about your coming
to London. Here stand I; and I shall stand, with or without human
help, if God is with us. That story of Thomas Maxfield is not true.
But I doubt more is true than is good. He is a most incomprehensible
creature. I cannot convince him, that separation is any evil; or, that
speaking in the name of God, when God has not spoken, is any more than
an innocent mistake. I know not what to say to him, or do with him. He
is really _mali caput et fons_.”[507]
A fortnight after this, Wesley wrote as follows to the Countess of
Huntingdon.
“_March 20, 1763._
“MY LADY,—By the mercy of God, I am still alive, and following the
work to which He has called me, although without any help, even in the
most trying times, from those of whom I might have expected it. Their
voice seemed to be rather, ‘_Down with him, down with him; even to the
ground._’ I mean (for I use no ceremony or circumlocution) Mr. Madan,
Mr. Haweis, Mr. Berridge, and (I am sorry to say it) Mr. Whitefield.
Only Mr. Romaine has shown a truly sympathising spirit, and acted the
part of a brother. As to the prophecies of these poor wild men, George
Bell and half-a-dozen more, I am not a jot more accountable for them
than Mr. Whitefield is, having never countenanced them in any degree,
but opposed them from the moment I heard them; neither have these
extravagances any foundation in any doctrine which I teach. The loving
God with all our heart, soul, and strength, and the loving all men as
Christ loved us, is, and ever was, for these thirty years, the sum
of what I deliver, as pure religion and undefiled. However, if I am
bereaved of my children, I am bereaved! The will of the Lord be done!
‘Poor and helpless as I am,
Thou dost for my vileness care,
Thou hast called me by Thy name,
Thou dost all my burdens bear.’
“I am, your ladyship’s servant for Christ’s sake,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[508]
Wesley thought he had one friend left, though only one, in Mr. Romaine;
but in this he was mistaken. Hence the following, written within a week
after the above.
“LAMBETH, _March 26, 1763_.
“MADAM,—Thanks to your ladyship for your kind remembrance of me in
your last. Enclosed is poor Mr. John Wesley’s letter. The contents of
it, as far as I am concerned, surprised me; for no one has spoken more
freely of what is now passing among the people than myself. Indeed, I
have not preached so much as others whose names he mentions, nor could
I. My subject is one, and I dare not vary from it. A perfection out of
Christ is with me all rank pride and damnable sin. Man cannot be laid
too low; nor Christ set too high. I would therefore always aim, as
good brother Grimshaw expresses it, to get the old gentleman down, and
keep him down; and then Christ reigns like Himself, when He is _all_,
and man is nothing.
“I pity Mr. John from my heart. His societies are in great confusion;
and the point, which brought them into the wilderness of rant and
madness, is still insisted on as much as ever. I fear the end of this
delusion. As the late alarming providence has not had its proper
effect, and _perfection_ is still the cry, God will certainly give
them up to some more dreadful thing. May their eyes be opened before
it is too late!
“Things are not here as at Brighton. The Foundery, the Tabernacle,
the Lock, the Meeting, yea, St. Dunstan’s, has each its party, and
brotherly love is almost lost in our disputes. Thank God, I am out of
them.
“My wife joins me in duty and affection to your ladyship, and we are
your faithful servants in our most dear and eternally precious Jesus,
“W. ROMAINE.”[509]
Such, in the midst of his London troubles, was Wesley’s want of
sympathy and help from those whom he had been accustomed to regard
as friends. Fletcher of Madeley continued faithful, but the duties
of his distant vicarage were a bar to his rendering assistance in
the metropolis. As early as November 22, 1762, he wrote Charles
Wesley:[510] “Many of our brethren are overshooting sober Christianity
in London. Oh that I could stand in the gap! Oh that I could, by
sacrificing myself, shut this immense abyss of enthusiasm, which opens
its mouth among us! The corruption of the best things is always the
worst of corruptions.”
In another letter, dated September 9, 1763, Fletcher writes: “If Mr.
Maxfield returns, the Lord may correct his errors, and give him so to
insist on the fruits of faith as to prevent antinomianism. I believe
him sincere; and, though obstinate and suspicious, I am persuaded he
has a true desire to know the will, and live the life of God. I reply
in the same words you quoted to me in one of your letters: ‘Don’t be
afraid of a wreck, for Jesus is in the ship.’ After the most violent
storm, the Lord will, perhaps all at once, bring our ship into the
desired haven.”[511]
Fletcher thoroughly understood Wesley’s doctrines; but it is clear that
Romaine did not. When and where did Wesley preach “a perfection out of
Christ”? What was Romaine’s meaning when he employed that expression?
Who can tell? Could Romaine himself? We greatly doubt it. Wesley, in
the plainest language, had said all he had to say, both in the former
and in the Farther Thoughts on Christian Perfection. Had Romaine read
these tracts? If he had, he ought to have known that they contained
not a single syllable concerning any “_perfection out of Christ_”; if
he had not, he was culpable in branding a doctrine, the meaning of
which he had yet to learn. In a letter to Mrs. Maitland, dated May
12, 1763, Wesley declares, that he can say nothing on the subject of
Christian perfection but what he has said already. Nevertheless, at her
request, he is willing to add a few words more. He proceeds:—
“As to the word _perfection_, it is scriptural. Therefore, neither you
nor I can in conscience object to it, unless we would send the Holy
Ghost to school, and teach Him to speak, who made the tongue.
“By _Christian_ perfection I mean, (as I have said again and again,)
the so loving God and our neighbour, as to ‘rejoice evermore, pray
without ceasing, and in everything give thanks.’ He that experiences
this is scripturally perfect. And if you do not, yet you may
experience it; you surely will, if you follow hard after it, for the
Scripture cannot be broken.
“What then does their arguing prove, who object against Christian
perfection? Absolute or infallible perfection, I never contended for;
sinless perfection I do not contend for, seeing it is not scriptural.
A perfection such as enables a person to fulfil the whole law, and so
need not the merits of Christ, I do not acknowledge. I do now, and
always did protest against it.
“But is there no sin in those who are perfect in love? I believe not;
but, be that as it may, they feel none,—no temper contrary to pure
love, while they rejoice, pray, and give thanks continually. Whether
sin is suspended, or extinguished, I will not dispute. It is enough,
that they feel nothing but love. This you allow we should daily press
after; and this is all I contend for.”[512]
In 1759, Wesley published his “Thoughts on Christian Perfection”;
and now he issued another 12mo tract of thirty-nine pages, entitled
“Farther Thoughts upon Christian Perfection,” in which he says: “In
most particulars, I think now as I did then; in some I do not. My
present thoughts I now offer to your consideration; being still open
to further conviction; and willing, I trust, to be taught of God, by
whatever instrument He shall choose.” He proceeds to show, that the
highest degree of sanctification attainable on earth will not save a
man from “unavoidable defect of understanding,” and from “mistakes
in many things”; and that “these mistakes will frequently occasion
something wrong, both in our tempers, and words, and actions.” For
this reason, “the holiest of men still need Christ, as their prophet,
king, and priest.” He maintains, that the sanctified have a direct,
as well as an indirect, witness of their sanctification; and that
“_some_, though not all, may have a testimony from the Spirit” of
their final perseverance. He admits that, in most instances, those who
are “justified _gradually_ die to sin and grow in grace, till at, or
perhaps a little before death, God perfects them in love”; but, in some
instances, “God cuts short His work. He does the work of many years
in a few weeks: perhaps in a week, a day, an hour.” Concerning those
in London, who professed to have attained to Christian perfection, he
says: “there is a wide difference between some of them and others.” He
adds: “I think most of them, with whom I have spoken, have much faith,
love, joy, and peace. Some of these, I believe, are renewed in love,
and have the _direct_ witness of it; and they manifest the _fruit_ of
it in all their words and actions. But some, who have much love, peace,
and joy, have not the direct witness; and others, who think they have,
are manifestly wanting in the fruit. How many I will not say: perhaps
one in ten, perhaps more or fewer. _Some_ are undeniably wanting in
_longsuffering_; some in _gentleness_; some in _goodness_; some in
_fidelity_; some in _meekness_; and some in _temperance_.” To these
last mentioned he says: “Let us not fight about words; in the thing we
clearly agree. You have not what I call _perfection_. If others will
call it so, they may.”
After laying it down, that “those who are perfect may grow in grace,
not only while they are in the body, but to all eternity,” he proceeds
to say: “formerly, we thought, one saved from sin could not fall. Now,
we know the contrary. We are surrounded with instances of those, who
lately experienced all that I mean by perfection. They had both the
fruit of the Spirit and the witness; but they have now lost both. There
is no such height of holiness as it is impossible to fall from. If
there be any that _cannot fall_, this wholly depends on the promise and
faithfulness of God.”