During his stay with Mr. Knox, Wesley wrote as follows:—

“LONDONDERRY, _May 14, 1765_.

“DEAR SIR,—You have admirably expressed what I mean by an opinion,

contradistinguished from an essential doctrine. Whatever is

‘compatible with love to Christ, and a work of grace,’ I term an

_opinion_. And certainly the holding particular election and final

perseverance is compatible with these.

“‘Yet what fundamental errors,’ you ask, ‘have you opposed with half

that fervency as you have opposed these opinions?’ I have printed

near fifty sermons, and only one of these opposes them at all. I

preach about eight hundred sermons a year; and, taking one year with

another, for twenty years past, I have not preached eight sermons in a

year upon the subject. But ‘how many of your best preachers have been

thrust out, because they dissented from you in these particulars?’ Not

one, best or worst, good or bad, was ever thrust out on this account.

Two or three voluntarily left us, after they had embraced those

opinions; and two I should have expelled for immoral behaviour; but

they withdrew, and _pretended_ not to hold our doctrine. Set a mark,

therefore, on him that told you that tale, and let his word for the

future go for nothing.

“‘Is a man a believer in Jesus Christ, and is his life suitable to

his profession?’ are not only the _main_, but the _sole_, inquiries,

I make, in order to his admission into our society. If he is a

Dissenter, he may be a Dissenter still: but if he is a Churchman, I

advise him to continue so.

“I think on justification, just as I have done any time these

seven-and-twenty years; and just as Mr. Calvin does. In this respect,

I do not differ from him an hair’sbreadth.

“I am, dear sir, your affectionate brother and servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”

Wesley did not get to Dublin till the 18th of July, in the evening of

which day, he says, “I began expounding the deepest part of the holy

Scripture, namely, the first epistle of St. John, by which above all

other, even inspired, writings, I advise every young preacher to form

his style. Here are sublimity and simplicity together, the strongest

sense and the plainest language. How can any one, that would speak as

the oracles of God, use harder words than are found here?”

During Wesley’s tour in Ireland, Whitefield arrived in England from

America. His health was shattered; and, no sooner was he at home

again, than he became the butt of malignant wit. _Lloyd’s Evening

Post_ published a long “Lecture on Heads,” in which Whitefield was

caricatured as “the bell-wether of the flock, who had broken down

orthodoxy’s bounds, and was now rioting on the common of hypocrisy”;

and then followed a ribald harangue put into his mouth, and far too

foul for quotation.

Wesley, also, in the same periodical, had his share of personal abuse;

and was calumniated as the patron of a practice then in vogue, namely

that of parties of religious people using cards, with Scripture texts,

to ascertain their spiritual condition, and eternal hopes.[613] Both,

however, were too accustomed to such scurrility, to suffer it to

disturb their peace.

On August 2, Wesley embarked for England, and landed, at Whitehaven, on

the 6th. He hurried to Newcastle; and, on Sunday, the 11th, preached

thrice, held a covenant service, spoke for an hour at a society

meeting, and rode nearly thirty miles. Pretty well, for a man more than

threescore years of age.

On his way southwards, he preached at Sunderland, Durham, Yarm, Leeds,

and Huddersfield. He then rode to Chester to preach in the octagon

chapel, just erected, and said to be capable of containing from six

to eight hundred people. At this period, Chester was included in the

Manchester circuit, the society raising, by their united efforts, about

a shilling per week for the support of their preachers.[614]

On August 20, Wesley opened his conference, in Manchester. The circuits

in England at this period were twenty-five in number: namely—London,

Sussex, Canterbury, Colchester, Norwich, Bedford, Oxfordshire, Wilts,

Bristol, Devon, Cornwall (East), Cornwall (West), Staffordshire,

Salop, Lancashire, Derbyshire, Sheffield, Epworth, Grimsby, Leeds,

Birstal, Haworth, York, Yarm, The Dales, and Newcastle. It is a fact

worth noting, that six of these circuit towns, nearly a fourth of

the entire number, were in Yorkshire. In addition, there were four

circuits in Scotland: namely—Edinburgh, Dundee, Aberdeen, and Glasgow;

two in Wales—Glamorganshire and Pembroke; and eight in Ireland—Dublin,

Cork, Limerick, Waterford, Athlone, Castlebar, Newry, and Londonderry.

To these thirty-nine circuits ninety-two itinerant preachers were

appointed, twelve of whom were admitted, on trial, at the present

conference.

This will give the reader an idea of the growth of Methodism, during

the first twenty-five years of its eventful history; and it may be

added that, while at the Manchester conference, of 1765, there were

only ninety-two preachers for the whole of the circuits in England,

Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, there were, a hundred years later, in

1865, not fewer than one hundred and seventeen, for the circuits in

the Manchester district only; in other words, the Manchester district,

only, had, in 1865, nearly one third more ministers than the whole of

the Methodist connexion had in 1765.

The proceedings of the conference may be gathered from the following

synopsis of its minutes.

The connexional collection for the support of Kingswood school was

ascertained to be £100 9_s._ 7_d._ The yearly subscription in the

classes was £707 18_s._; of which £578 was devoted to the payment of

chapel debts; £38 17_s._ was spent in defraying law expenses, and the

remaining £91 1_s._ was divided among the preachers who were in want.

Rules were adopted for the management of the fund for the support of

superannuated preachers, their widows, and their children. Many of

the chapels being still deeply involved in debt, it was determined,

that no new chapel should be begun, but by the advice of one of the

assistants; and that no assistant should consent to a new erection

without an absolute necessity. Some of the chapels already built were

not vested in trustees, and several trustees of other chapels were

already dead. To remedy these defects, a person was to be sent through

England, to examine the deeds, and to appoint trustees where needed. In

all future buildings, there were to be sash windows, opening downwards;

but no “tub pulpits,” and no backs to the seats. Men and women were

to sit apart everywhere; outdoor preaching had often been omitted to

please societies or their stewards, but this was not to be done again;

weeknight preaching, except in harvest time, was never to commence

later than seven o’clock, and a lovefeast should never continue longer

than an hour and a half, for every one ought to be at home by nine.

Breaking bread to each other at lovefeasts, “a silly custom invented

by James Wheatley,” was to be discountenanced, on the ground that

it created much confusion. Some of the preachers were not “merciful

to their beasts,” and it was directed, that hard riding should be

abandoned, and that every one should “see with his own eyes his horse

rubbed, fed, and bedded.” It was resolved, that members, removing from

one society to another, should not be received, unless they brought a

certificate from the assistant officiating where they left.

Other regulations were adopted by the conference of 1765. No preacher

was to print anything without Wesley’s approbation. Societies and

congregations were to be taught singing. The preachers were to meet

the societies, bands, and children; to use intercession on Fridays;

and to recommend fasting, both by precept and example. The people were

to be urged to use family prayer twice a day; to be good economists;

to guard against “little oaths, as upon my life, my faith, my honour;”

and against little compliments, or unmeaning words. The members might

“tenderly and prudently call each other brother and sister; but, as

a rule, they talked too much and read too little, and ought to amend

in this.” Many of them were “absolutely enslaved to snuff”; some

drank drams; and the religion of most was usually too superficial.

To remedy such evils, the preachers were enjoined, on no account, to

take snuff or to drink drams themselves; and were to speak to any

one they saw snuffing in sermon time, to answer the pretences that

drams cured the colic and helped digestion, and to preach on the most

spiritual subjects, and earnestly recommend private prayer, reading the

Scriptures, and universal self denial.

These are tempting topics for discussion; but it can only be

added, that Wesley was far from thinking, that the Methodists were

perfect. Besides the hints above given, he remarks, at this very

conference:—“God thrust me and my brother out, utterly against our

will, to raise a _holy_ people. Holiness was our point,—inward and

outward holiness. When Satan could no otherwise prevent this, he threw

_Calvinism_ in our way; and then _antinomianism_. Then many Methodists

grew _rich_, and thereby _lovers_ of the present _world_. Next, they

married unawakened or half awakened _wives_, and conversed with _their

relations_. Thence, _worldly prudence_, _maxims_, _customs_, crept back

upon us, producing more and more _conformity to the world_. Then there

followed gross neglect of _relative duties_, especially _education_ of

children.” This is a faithful but not bright picture of the Methodists

of a hundred years ago. Wesley adds: “This is not cured by the

preachers. Either they have not _light_, or not _weight_ enough. But

the want of these may be in some measure supplied, by publicly reading

the sermons” (Wesley’s own sermons) “everywhere; especially the fourth

volume, which supplies them with remedies suited to the disease.”

The Manchester conference lasted four days. Sammy Bardsley, then a

youthful Methodist, and employed as a bottle cleaner, and an errand

boy in the vaults of a Manchester wine and spirit merchant, writes:

“There were present a _deal_ of preachers. Everything was carried on

with decency and order. The Rev. Mr. Wesley preached every evening.

On Sunday morning, he preached in Marsden’s Square to a numerous

congregation. Something remarkable to me was his humility, in taking

me by the arm, and walking through the town with me. The Lord grant,

that I may be as serviceable for the good of souls, according to my

abilities, as he has been!”[615] Three years afterwards, the wine

merchant’s bottle cleaner became one of Wesley’s itinerants.

We have already seen that, in 1761, the Rev. Henry Venn wished Wesley

to withdraw his preachers from Huddersfield, on the ground that he,

the minister of the Huddersfield parishioners, preached the same

truths that Wesley did. The Huddersfield Methodists demurred to this

absorption in the Established Church; and the matter was compromised by

Wesley and Venn agreeing that the Methodist preachers should not invade

the parish of Huddersfield oftener than once a month. After this,

Wesley went a step farther, and, to please his clerical friend, agreed

that, for the space of one year, the preaching of the itinerants should

be suspended altogether. This was carrying the thing too far. Wesley

seemed to forget, for the moment, that other men had consciences as

well as he. As a sop to Venn, the concession failed; and, besides this,

that which was meant to be a peace offering to the Huddersfield vicar

became a bone of contention to the Huddersfield Methodists. Both they

and their preachers were vexed; and, 1765, the latter took the affair

into their own hands, and, despite the clerical compact, again began

preaching within Mr. Venn’s ecclesiastical preserves. The curate took

the pains to go from house to house entreating the people not to hear

them; but all to no purpose.[616] The following letter, to Mr. Venn,

refers to these and other facts.

“_June 22, 1765._

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—Having, at length, a few hours to spare, I sit

down to answer your last, which was particularly acceptable to me,

because it was written with so great openness. I shall write with the

same. Herein you and I are just fit to converse together, because we

both like to speak blunt and plain, without going a great way round

about. I shall likewise take this opportunity of explaining myself on

some other heads. I want you to understand me inside and out. Then I

say, ‘_Sic sum: si placeo, utere_.’

“Were I allowed to boast myself a little, I would say, I want no man

living, I mean, none but those who are now connected with me, and who

bless God for that connection. With these I am able to go through

every part of the work to which I am called. Yet, I have laboured

after union with all whom I believe to be united with Christ. I have

sought it again and again; but in vain. They were resolved to stand

aloof. And, when one and another sincere minister of Christ has been

inclined to come nearer to me, others have diligently kept them off,

as though thereby they did God service.

“To this poor end, the doctrine of perfection has been brought in head

and shoulders. And when such concessions were made as would abundantly

satisfy any fair and candid man, they were no nearer; rather farther

off: for they had no desire to be satisfied. To make this _dear_

breach wider and wider, stories were carefully gleaned up, improved,

yea, invented and retailed, both concerning me and ‘the perfect ones.’

And, when anything very bad has come to hand, some have rejoiced as

though they had found great spoils.

“By this means chiefly, the distance between you and me has increased

ever since you came to Huddersfield; and, perhaps, it has not been

lessened by that honest, well meaning man, Mr. Burnet, and by others,

who have talked largely of my dogmaticalness, love of power, errors,

and irregularities. My dogmaticalness is neither more nor less than

a ‘custom of coming to the point at once,’ and telling my mind flat

and plain, without any preface or ceremony. I could indeed premise

something of my own imbecility, littleness of judgment, and the like:

but, first, I have no time to lose; I must despatch the matter as soon

as possible; secondly, I do not think it frank or ingenuous. I think

these prefaces are mere artifice.

“The _power_ I have never _sought_. It was the undesired, unexpected

result of the work. God was pleased to work by me. I have a thousand

times sought to devolve it on others; but, as yet, I cannot. I

therefore suffer it till I can find any to ease me of my burden.

“If any one will convince me of my _errors_, I will heartily thank

him. I believe all the Bible, as far as I understand it, and am ready

to be convinced. If I am a heretic, I became such by reading the

Bible. All my notions I drew from thence; and with little help from

men, unless in the single point of justification by faith. But I

impose my notions upon none; I will be bold to say, there is no man

living further from it. I make no opinion the term of union with any

man; I think and let think. What I want is, holiness of heart and

life. They who have this, are my brother, sister, and mother.

“‘But you hold perfection’: true; that is, loving God with _all_ our

heart, and serving Him with _all_ our strength. I teach nothing more,

nothing less than this. And whatever infirmity, defect, ανομια, is

consistent with this, any man may teach, and I shall not contradict him.

“As to _irregularity_, I hope none of those, who cause it, do then

complain of it. Will they throw a man into the dirt, and beat him

because he is dirty? Of all men living, those clergymen ought not to

complain, who believe I preach the gospel, as to the substance of

it. If they do not ask me to preach in their churches, _they_ are

accountable for my preaching in the fields.

“I come now directly to your letter, in hopes of establishing a good

understanding between us. I agreed to suspend, for a twelvemonth, our

stated preaching at Huddersfield, which had been there these many

years. If this answered your end, I am glad; my end it did not answer

at all. Instead of coming nearer to me, you got farther off. I heard

of it from every quarter, though few knew that I did; for I saw no

cause to speak against _you_, because you did against _me_. I wanted

you to do more, not less good; and, therefore, durst not do or say

anything to hinder it. And, lest I should hinder it, I will make a

farther trial, and suspend the preaching at Huddersfield for another

year.

“1. To clear the case between us a little farther, I must now adopt

your words: ‘I, no less than you, preach justification by faith only,

the absolute necessity of holiness, the increasing mortification of

sin, and rejection of all past experiences and attainments. I abhor,

as you do, all antinomian abuse of the doctrine of Christ, and desire

to see my people walking even as He walked. Is it then worth while, in

order to gratify a few bigoted persons, or for the sake of the minute

differences between us,’ to encourage ‘all the train of evils which

follow _contention for opinions_, in little matters as much as in

great?’

“2. If I was as strenuous with regard to perfection on one side, as

you have been on the other, I should deny you to be _a sufficient_

preacher; but this I never did. And yet, I can assure you, I can

advance such reasons for all I teach, as would puzzle you, and all

that condemn me, to answer; but I am sick of disputing. Let them beat

the air, and triumph without an opponent.

“3. ‘None,’ you say, ‘preach in your houses, who do not hold the

very same doctrine with you.’ This is not exactly the case. You are

welcome to preach in any of those houses; as I know we agree in the

main points; and wherein soever we differ, you would not preach there

contrary to me. ‘But would it not give you pain to have any other

teacher come among those committed to your charge, so as to have your

plan disconcerted, your labours depreciated, and the affections of

your flock alienated?’ It has given me pain, when I had reason to fear

this was done, both at Leeds, Birstal, and elsewhere; and I was ‘under

a temptation of speaking against you’: but I refrained even among my

intimate friends. So far was I from publicly warning my people against

one I firmly believed to be much better than myself.

“4. Indeed, I trust ‘the bad blood is now taken away.’ Let it return

no more. Let us begin such a correspondence as has never been yet, and

let us avow it before all mankind. Not content with not weakening each

other’s hands, or speaking against each other, directly or indirectly,

let us defend each other’s character to the utmost, against either

ill or well meaning evil speakers. I am not satisfied with ‘Be very

civil to the Methodists, but have nothing to do with them.’ No; I

desire to have a league, offensive and defensive, with every soldier

of Christ. We have not only one faith, one hope, one Lord, but are

directly engaged in one warfare. We are carrying the war into the

devil’s own quarters, who, therefore, summonses all his hosts to war.

Come then, ye that love Him, to the help of the Lord, to the help of

the Lord against the mighty! I am now well-nigh ‘_miles emeritus,

senex, sexagenarius_.’ Yet I trust to fight a little longer. Come and

strengthen the hands, till you supply the place, of your weak, but

affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[617]

This is a long letter, but far too important to be abridged.

Wesley had been more than five months from London; but, instead of

returning thither, he proceeded, from the Manchester conference, direct

to Cornwall.

On his way, he attempted to preach at Northtawton, in Devonshire; but,

for once in his life, was hindered. He writes: “I went to the door of

our inn; but I had hardly ended the psalm, when a clergyman came, with

two or three (by the courtesy of England called) gentlemen. After I had

named my text, I said, ‘There may be some truths which concern some men

only; but this concerns all mankind.’ The minister cried out, ‘That is

false doctrine, that is predestination.’ Then the roar began, to second

which they had brought a huntsman with his hounds; but the dogs were

wiser than the men; for they could not bring them to make any noise at

all. One of the gentlemen supplied their place. He assured us he was

such, or none would have suspected it; for his language was as base,

foul, and porterly as ever was heard at Billingsgate. Dog, rascal,

puppy, and the like terms, adorned almost every sentence. Finding

there was no probability of a quiet hearing, I left him the field, and

withdrew to my lodging.”

At Gwennap, Wesley had as large a congregation as he had ever seen

assembled in Moorfields. At Redruth, he met with Grace Paddy, “a well

bred, sensible young woman,” who professed to be “convinced of sin,

converted to God, and renewed in love, within twelve hours.” Almost

everywhere, he was received with the warmest welcome, and rejoiced to

find the work of God in general prosperity. Still, as in the case of

the Asiatic churches, the Cornish ones were not perfect; and hence the

following characteristic letter, addressed to Thomas Rankin.

“ST. JOHN’S, _September 11, 1765_.

“DEAR TOMMY,—There is a good work in Cornwall. But where the great

work goes on well, we should take care to be exact in little things. I

will tell you several of these, just as they occur to my mind.

“Grace Paddy, at Redruth, met in the select society, though she wore a

large glittering necklace, and met no band.

“They sing all over Cornwall a tune so full of repetitions and

flourishes, that it can scarce be sung with devotion. It is to these

words, ‘Praise the Lord, ye blessed ones.’ Away with it: let it be

heard no more.

“They cannot sing our old common tunes. Teach these everywhere. Take

pains herein.

“The societies are not half supplied with books; not even with Jane

Cooper’s Letters, or the two or three sermons which I printed last

year; no, not with the shilling hymn-book, or ‘Primitive Physic.’

“They almost universally neglect fasting.

“The preaching houses are miserable, even the new ones. They have

neither light nor air sufficient; and they are far, far too low, and

too small. Look at Yarm house.

“Recommend the ‘Notes on the Old Testament,’ in good earnest. Every

society, as a society, should subscribe. Remind them, everywhere, that

two, four, or six might join together for a copy, and bring the money

to their leader weekly.

“We have need to use all the common sense God has given us, as well as

all the grace.

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

“JOHN WESLEY.”[618]

Tommy Rankin was a faithful man, and if things in Cornwall were not all

right it was not Tommy’s fault. Hence another of Wesley’s own peculiar

letters, written two months afterwards.[619]

“LONDON, _November 18, 1765_.

“DEAR TOMMY,—You have satisfied me with regard to the particulars

which I mentioned in my letter from Cornwall. Only, one thing I desire

you to remember. Never sit up later than ten o’clock; no, not for

any reason (except a watchnight), not on any pretence whatever. In

general, I desire you would go to bed about a quarter after nine.

“Likewise be temperate in speaking; never too loud; never too long:

else Satan will befool you; and, on pretence of being more useful,

quite disable you from being useful at all.

“Richard Henderson desired, that he might be the bookkeeper this year

in Wiltshire, and save me two shillings in the pound. But whoever you

approve of, so do I. Write to Mr. Franks accordingly.

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

“JOHN WESLEY.”

On September 21, Wesley returned to Bristol, where he found fifty

members fewer than he had left twelve months before. He writes: “One

reason is, Christian perfection has been little insisted on; and

wherever this is not done, be the preachers ever so eloquent, there is

little increase, either in the number or the grace of the hearers.”

“There are now about twenty persons here, who believe they are saved

from sin; but, if these lose what they have received, nothing will be

more easy than to think they never had it. There were four hundred in

London, who, unless they told me lies, had the same experience. If near

half of these have lost what they had, I do not wonder if they think

they never had it; it is so ready a way of excusing themselves for

throwing away the blessed gift of God.”[620]

It was about this period that Captain Webb and Wesley became

acquainted.[621] Thomas Webb was now in the thirty-first year of his

age. Seven years before, he had been with General Wolfe, in Canada,

where he lost his right eye, and was wounded in his right arm. He found

peace with God on March 23, 1765, while conversing in Bristol with Mr.

Cary, a Moravian minister; and, soon after, was introduced among the

Bristol Methodists by the Rev. James Roquet.[622] Immediately after his

conversion, he began to preach at Bath; and, in 1769, was one of the

principal agents employed in planting Methodism in America. About the

year 1783, he settled in England, and spent the remainder of his life,

till 1796, in preaching Christ. He was twice married, and had two sons

and a daughter. The sons became resident in America;[623] the daughter

died at Stourport, three years after her father.[624] Wesley had a high

respect for the brave captain, and, by applying to Lord North, obtained

him a pension of a hundred pounds a year.[625] “The captain,” says he,

“is all life and fire; and many are convinced under his preaching, some

are justified, and a few built up in love.”[626] Charles Wesley’s

opinion, as might be expected, was more qualified. “He is,” he writes,

“an inexperienced, honest, zealous, loving enthusiast.”[627]

We shall meet with Captain Webb again; suffice it to add here, that, to

the end of life, he furnished a bright example of Christian diligence

and zeal. For several years, he annually made a summer’s visit to

the French prisoners at Winchester, addressing them in their own

language, which he had studied while in Canada. Portsmouth, also, was

often favoured with his services. Here crowds of soldiers and sailors

listened, with all possible veneration, to the Christian warrior,

and, under the spontaneous effusions of his holy eloquence, trembled,

as they would not have trembled in the midst of battle, and wept on

account of sin, when they would have scorned to weep on account of

pain. In Bristol and its vicinity, his labours were greatly blessed;

and to him, in an eminent degree, Bristol is indebted for the erection

of Portland chapel, where he lies interred.[628] The good old captain

was carried to his grave by six local preachers, and his pall was

borne by six itinerants.[629] His funeral sermon was preached and

published by John Pritchard. “Webb,” says Dr. Dixon, “seems to have

been a perfect embodiment of the true genius and spirit of primitive

Methodism.”[630] He was not perfect, and John Pawson found great

fault with Pritchard’s funeral sermon, for being far too eulogistic

of the captain’s virtues;[631] but, maugre Pawson’s criticism, there

cannot be a doubt, that the brave and generous wounded old warrior

was as courageous and as zealous, in the cause of Christ, as he ever

was in the service of his country. His native talent was respectable;

he had seen much of life; his education enabled him to read his

Greek Testament, which is still a much prized relic in America;[632]

his enthusiasm was almost unbounded; and his impassioned eloquence

sometimes overwhelming. His name must be for ever illustrious in the

history of Methodism in the United States; and he well deserved the

eulogium on his monument in Portland chapel, Bristol: “Brave, active,

courageous, faithful, zealous, and successful.”

Wesley left Bristol on October 21, and reached London three days

afterwards. On October 28, he writes: “I breakfasted with Mr.

Whitefield, who seemed to be an old, old man, being fairly worn out

in his Master’s service, though he has hardly seen fifty years; and

yet it pleases God, that I, who am now in my sixty-third year, find

no disorder, no weakness, no decay, no difference from what I was at

five-and-twenty; only that I have fewer teeth, and more grey hairs.”

During the first week in December, Wesley paid a visit to the societies

at Canterbury, Dover, Margate, and Faversham. At Canterbury, he found

all the members, without exception, “upright and blameless in their

behaviour.” At Dover, where the Methodists met in a cooper’s shop, some

had formerly indulged in smuggling, but they had ceased to “rob the

king,” and were now in prosperity.

At Margate, the society were “earnestly opposed” by the parson of the

parish, who thought he was “doing God service.” At Faversham, says

Wesley, “the mob and the magistrates had agreed together to drive

Methodism out of the town. After preaching, I told them what we had

been constrained to do by the magistrate at Rolvenden; who, perhaps,

would have been richer, by some hundred pounds, had he never meddled

with the Methodists; concluding, ‘Since we have both God and the law on

our side, if we can have peace by fair means, we had much rather; but

if not, we will have peace.’”

From a manuscript, written by Miss Perronet, we learn that, five

months before Wesley’s visit to Faversham, Mrs. Pizing had gone to

Canterbury, to consult with Charles Perronet, respecting her husband,

who had been threatened with expulsion from the situation he held,

if he continued to attend the Methodist services at Faversham, or

entertained the preachers at his house. The mob, also, were determined

to assault the congregation, and to punish them with vengeance. Charles

Perronet exhorted Mrs. Pizing and her husband to continue faithful;

and Miss Perronet went to visit them. During her stay, many of the

female members, as sisters Butler, Godfrey, Pizing, Clark, Whitehead,

and Rigden, found peace with God; and there was, what Miss Perronet

designates, “a blessed work of God among them.” These were some of the

poor Methodists threatened by the mob and magistrates of Faversham.

Wesley’s friendship with the Perronet family was of long standing, and

was unabated. On December 15, he buried the remains of Henry, one of

the vicar’s sons, who “had been a child of sorrow from his infancy,”

but who died in hope and happiness. Wesley spent some days at the

Shoreham parsonage, endeavouring to comfort his old and faithful

friend; he himself suffering at the time from a serious accident, which

occurred to him while he was on his way to the house of mourning. In

riding through Southwark, his horse fell, with Wesley’s leg under it.

A gentleman picked him up, and took him into an adjoining shop, where

he was exceeding sick, but was relieved by hartshorn and water. After

a brief rest, he called a coach, and proceeded on his journey, but

soon found himself severely bruised in his right arm, his breast, his

knee, his leg, and ankle, all of which were greatly swollen. Arriving

at Shoreham, he applied treacle plasters twice a day; and, within a

week, was able to return to London in a carriage, where, to the treacle

applications, he added electrifying every morning and every night. He

gradually improved; but, for many months afterwards, he was a serious

sufferer, though he refused to permit his pain to interrupt his work.

“I am not quite free,” he wrote, on May 6, 1766, “from the effects

of my fall at Christmas, and perhaps never shall be in this world.

Sometimes my ankle, sometimes my knee, and frequently my shoulder,

complains. But, blessed be God, I have strength sufficient for the

work to which I am called. When I cannot walk any farther, I can take

a horse, and now and then a chaise; so that, hitherto, I have not been

hindered from visiting any place which I purposed to see before I left

London.”[633]

Comparatively speaking, there was, in 1765, a cessation of the printed

attacks on Methodism. There was one, however, which must be mentioned:

“Mumbo Chumbo: a Tale written in antient manner. Recommended to modern

Devotees.” 4to, 19 pages. The title page of this precious morsel is

adorned with Mumbo Chumbo’s picture—a sort of humanised monster, with

hair on end, hands and fingers long and bony, eyes glaring, and mouth

belching fire on a crowd of women and little children; while, just

behind, stand two persons in parsonic costume, and also a drawing of

Whitefield’s tabernacle, in Tabernacle Row. Of course Mumbo Chumbo

means Methodism. The following is the last verse but two in this

disgraceful production, and may be taken as a fair sample of all the

rest. Addressing women, in reference to Methodist preachers, the Mumbo

Chumbo poet sings:

“Still let them rave, and their loud throats uprear,

As if the walls they’d crack, and split the doors;

Be not dismayed, nor aught give way to fear,

Only think this—that Mumbo Chumbo roars.”

Wesley’s publications, during the year 1765, were as follows.

1. “The Scripture Way of Salvation. A Sermon on Ephesians ii. 8.”

12mo, 22 pages. Wesley’s text, in this instance, was the same as

the one he took when he preached, twenty-seven years before, his

famous sermon before the Oxford university. The divisions also are

_substantially_ the same; but the discourses are different. There are

no contradictions; but there are further elucidations. The sermon

published in 1738 was exactly adapted to the times; and so was the

sermon published in 1765. During that interval, controversies had

sprung up respecting faith, repentance, and Christian perfection.

Sandemanianism had become rampant, and it was become necessary to

define, with great exactness, the nature of saving faith, and also the

nature of repentance, and in what sense it is essential to salvation.

The fanatical theories of Thomas Maxfield and George Bell had thrown

all the Methodist ideas of entire sanctification into confusion;

and it was of the highest importance, that Wesley should state most

distinctly, not only what he meant by being entirely sanctified, but,

how such a state was to be attained. These are questions which the

second sermon discusses; and, in that respect, it is a most important

appendix to the first. Thoroughly to understand Wesley’s doctrine, the

two must be read together.

2. “The Lord our Righteousness. A Sermon preached at the chapel

in West Street, Seven Dials, on Sunday, November 24, 1765.” 8vo,

36 pages. This, also, was a sermon for the times. The controversy

respecting Hervey’s notions of imputed righteousness had attracted

great attention. Wesley was misrepresented, and misunderstood; and the

object of his sermon is to correct the errors in circulation concerning

him. His two divisions are: 1. What is the righteousness of Christ? 2.

When, and in what sense, is it imputed to us? Wesley most conclusively

shows, that the accusations respecting his having changed his opinions

are unfounded; and that, really, the difference between him and men

like Hervey is merely verbal. He wrote in his journal, on the day he

preached the sermon: “I said not one thing which I have not said, at

least, fifty times within this twelvemonth; yet it appeared to many

entirely new, who much importuned me to print my sermon, supposing it

would stop the mouths of all gainsayers. Alas! for their simplicity! In

spite of all I can print, say, or do, will not those who seek occasion

of offence find occasion?” Well might Wesley write thus; for, though

his sermon is written in language the most explicit and unmistakable,

no sooner was it published than a sixpenny octavo pamphlet was issued

with the title,—“A Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, concerning

his inconsistency with himself. Occasioned by the publication of his

sermon, entitled ‘The Lord our Righteousness.’” The spirit of the

letter maybe surmised from the motto on the title page: “Rebuke them

sharply, that they may be sound in the faith.”

3. “Thoughts on a Single Life.” 12mo, 11 pages. This is a queer tract;

and the less said about it the better. A man holding such sentiments

had no right to have a wife; and yet Wesley declares: “My present

thoughts upon a single life are just the same they have been these

thirty years, and the same they must be, unless I give up my Bible.”

About the same time, another tract, of the same size, was written with

the title, “Jesus altogether lovely; or, a letter to some of the single

women of the Methodist society”; but, though it was sold at Wesley’s

“preaching houses, in town and country,” it is far from certain that

Wesley was its author. Still, it is not unlikely that one was connected

with the other. At all events, both substantially aim at the same

thing, namely, to show that, though marriage is not sinful, it is a

high state of perfection, and the result of a great gift of God, to be

able to live a single life.

In 1765, also was published, “The Christian’s Pocket Companion:

consisting of select Texts of the New Testament, with suitable

observations in prose and verse. By John Barnes, Carmarthen.” 372

pages. The preface to this Welsh production was written by Wesley, and

is as follows:

“To the Reader. Perhaps few books, lately published, have been more

useful, to serious and pious readers, than that entitled ‘The Golden

Treasury,’ It will be easily observed, that this is wrote on the

same plan, containing a short exercise of devotion for every day of

the year. The chief difference, between the one and the other, I

apprehend, is this,—they do not only contain the first principles of

religion, repentance towards God, and faith in Christ, the doctrine

of justification, and the new birth; but likewise the whole work of

God in the soul of man, till being rooted and grounded in love he is

able to comprehend, with all saints, what is the breadth, and length,

and depth, and height, and to know the love of Christ which passeth

knowledge, and to be filled with all the fulness of God.

“PEMBROKE, _July 30, 1764_.

“JOHN WESLEY.”

4. In _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, for June 5, 1765, appeared the following

advertisement.

“On Thursday the 1st of August will be published, price 6_d._, Number

I. of Explanatory Notes upon the Old Testament. By John Wesley, M.A.,

late fellow of Lincoln college, Oxford. Conditions. 1. That this work

will be printed in quarto, on a superfine paper. 2. That it will be

comprised in about 60 numbers (as near as can be computed) making two

handsome volumes.[634] 3. That each number will contain three sheets

of letterpress, printed on a new type. 4. That the first number will

be considered as a specimen, and, if not approved of, the money paid

for it shall be returned. 5. That the work will be delivered weekly

to the subscribers, without interruption, after the publication of the

first number. 6. That the whole will be printed in an elegant manner,

no way inferior to the very best work of the kind ever offered to the

public. Bristol: Printed by William Pine. Sold by J. Fletcher & Co.,

in St. Paul’s Churchyard, London; and by the Booksellers of Great

Britain and Ireland.”

Such was the advertisement. The work was really published in three

quarto volumes, making 2622 printed pages, the preface being dated

“April 25, 1765,” and the last page of the work, “December 24, 1766.”

Wesley writes:

“About ten years ago, I was prevailed upon to publish Explanatory

Notes upon the New Testament. When that work was begun, and, indeed,

when it was finished, I had no design to attempt anything further

of the kind. Nay, I had a full determination not to do it, being

thoroughly fatigued with the immense labour of writing twice over a

quarto book containing seven or eight hundred pages.

“But this was scarce published, before I was importuned to write

Explanatory Notes upon the Old Testament. This importunity I have

withstood for many years. Over and above the deep conviction I had

of my insufficiency for such a work, of my want of learning, of

understanding, of spiritual experience, for an undertaking more

difficult by many degrees than even writing on the New Testament, I

objected, that there were many passages in the Old which I did not

understand myself, and consequently could not explain to others,

either to their satisfaction or my own. Above all, I objected the want

of time: not only as I have a thousand other employments, but as my

day is near spent, as I am declined into the vale of years.”

He then proceeds to state, that he cannot entertain the thought of

“_composing_ a body of notes on the whole of the Old Testament”; but

that he will give the pith of Matthew Henry’s Exposition; leaving out

the whole of what Henry wrote in favour of particular redemption;

also all his Latin sentences, abundance of his quaint sayings, and

the far greater part of his inferences from and improvements of the

chapters. His notes however would not be “a bare abridgment of Mr.

Henry’s Exposition”; for he would make as many additions from Mr.

Pool’s Annotations as he made extracts from Mr. Henry’s Exposition;

and would add to the whole such further observations, either of his

own or of other authors, as might occur to him. Here and there he had

made a verbal alteration in the text; but, he says, “I have done this

very sparingly, being conscious of my very imperfect acquaintance with

the Hebrew tongue.” He concludes: “my design is not to write sermons,

not to draw inferences from the text, or to show what doctrines may be

proved thereby, but to give the direct literal meaning of every verse,

of every sentence, and, as far as I am able, of every word, in the

oracles of God.”

1766.

[Sidenote: 1766 Age 63]

The following is Wesley’s first entry in his Journal for 1766. “January

1.—A large congregation met in the Foundery at four o’clock, and

ushered in the new year with the voice of praise and thanksgiving. In

the evening we met as usual in Spitalfields to renew our covenant with

God. This is always a refreshing season, at which some prisoners are

set at liberty.”

Wesley was still suffering from the fall of his horse, and, to some

extent, was crippled; but, on January 13, he set out on his accustomed

Norfolk visit.

On reaching Yarmouth, he wrote: “The word of God was increasing here,

when poor Benjamin Worship was converted to Calvinism. Immediately, he

declared open war, tore the society in pieces, took all he could to

himself, wholly quitted the Church, and raised such a scandal as will

not soon be removed.” This was an early rupture. It was hardly six

years ago since Howel Harris had come to Yarmouth, with his regiment of

volunteers, and, in martial costume, begun to preach the gospel of the

Prince of Peace. Among others then converted was this selfsame Benjamin

Worship, a young solicitor, who became classleader and local preacher;

and now tore the infant society in pieces, organised a society of his

own, obtained a small chapel in one of the rows, preached for about two

years, and then had the mortification to see the whole collapse. John

Simpson, a draper, succeeded Worship among the few forsaken Methodists;

but, strangely enough, he also turned Calvinist, took possession of the

meeting-house, and so divided the small society that only eight poor

members were left remaining; and, before the year 1780, Methodism in

Yarmouth was utterly defunct. Shortly after, a new society was formed;

and, in 1783, a chapel was built, and was opened by Wesley, who says:

“Often this poor society has been well-nigh shattered in pieces: first

by Benjamin Worship, then a furious Calvinist, tearing away near half

of them; next by John Simpson, turning antinomian, and scattering most

that were left. It has pleased God, contrary to all human probability,

to raise a new society out of the rest; nay, and to give them courage

to build a new preaching house, which is well finished, and contains

about five hundred persons.”

Wesley returned to London on January 24, and, finding the London

society £610 in debt, three meetings were held, at which more than the

whole was readily subscribed. The number of members had been reduced

from 2800 to 2200. “Such,” says Wesley, “is the fruit of George Bell’s

enthusiasm, and Thomas Maxfield’s gratitude.”

Whitefield was now in London, his health greatly enfeebled, often

well-nigh breathless, but still struggling to preach three or four

times a week.[635] Wesley writes: “January 31—Mr. Whitefield called

upon me. He breathes nothing but peace and love. Bigotry cannot stand

before him, but hides its head wherever he comes.”

From this period, there was a closer union between Whitefield and

Wesley than there had been for the last quarter of a century. They

had occasionally exchanged letters; and, sometimes, preached in each

other’s pulpits; but there had been no hearty cooperation. Wesley’s

plan of union among the evangelical clergymen of the Church of England

had failed; he now entered into an alliance with Whitefield and the

Countess of Huntingdon. In the month of October, 1765, her ladyship’s

chapel at Bath had been opened by Whitefield, who had been succeeded

by Messrs. Madan, Romaine, and Fletcher. About the same time, Charles

Wesley named his third daughter Selina, as a mark of respect to the

countess;[636] and, on August 21, 1766, wrote: “This morning I and my

brother spent two blessed hours with George Whitefield. The threefold

cord, we trust, will never more be broken. On Tuesday next, my brother

is to preach in Lady Huntingdon’s chapel at Bath. That and all her

chapels are now put into the hands of us three.”[637]

This was an important meeting. Wesley had just held his conference at

Leeds, and had started on his usual autumnal tour, when he received,

from Lady Huntingdon, a letter requesting him to come at once to

London. Accordingly, he writes: “August 18—I turned off from the road

I had designed to take, and on the 20th reached London. It was at the

earnest request of ——, whose heart God has turned again, without any

expectation of mine, that I came hither so suddenly; and if no other

good result from it but our firm union with Mr. Whitefield, it is an

abundant recompense for my labour. My brother and I conferred with

him every day; and let the honourable men do what they please, we

resolved, by the grace of God, to go on, hand in hand, through honour

and dishonour.”

Wesley went direct, from this conference in London, to preach in her

ladyship’s chapel in Bath. This was a remarkable event. Up to the

present, the chapels of the Countess of Huntingdon had been almost

as hermetically closed against him as the churches of the Church of

England. Now, for a little season, it began to be otherwise. Wesley

says: “1766, August 26—Many were not a little surprised at seeing me

in the Countess of Huntingdon’s chapel, at Bath. The congregation was

not only large, but serious; and I fully delivered my own soul. So I am

in no concern, whether I preach there again, or no. I have no choice

concerning it.“

Notwithstanding his avowed indifference, Wesley wrote to her ladyship,

offering to preach in her chapel weekly during his intended stay in

Bristol; and, in answer, she addressed to him the following important

letter.

“_September 14, 1766._

“MY DEAR SIR,—I am most highly obliged by your kind offer of serving

the chapel at Bath during your stay at Bristol: I mean on Sundays.

It is an important time, being the height of the season, when the

great of this world are only within reach of the sound of the gospel

from that quarter. The mornings are their time; the evenings, the

inhabitants’ chiefly.”

Her ladyship then proceeds to speak of the new alliance with Whitefield

and herself.

“I do trust, that this union, which is commenced, will be for the

furtherance of our faith, and mutual love to each other. It is for

the interest of the best of causes, that we should all be found,

first faithful to the Lord, and then to each other. I find something

wanting, and that is, a meeting now and then agreed upon, that you,

your brother, Mr. Whitefield, and I should, at regular times, be

glad to communicate our observations upon the general state of the

work. Light might follow, and would be a kind of guide to me, as I am

connected with many.

“Pray, when you have leisure, let me hear from you, and believe me

most faithfully your affectionate friend,

“S. HUNTINGDON.”[638]

Such was the proposed quadruple alliance, between the three great

evangelists of the age and a noble Christian lady, who, had she been a

man, would have aspired to be a bishop. The alliance, as will be seen

hereafter, was not of long duration; but that probably was owing, not

to the unfaithfulness of any of the four, but rather to Whitefield’s

death; and the envious cabals of the Calvinistic clergy, by whom the

countess was surrounded, and some of whom, as Southey says, “abounded

as much with bigotry and intolerance as with zeal.”

Wesley fulfilled his promise, and, during the month of October,

preached several times in the chapel of the countess at Bath; and, on

one occasion, administered the sacrament of the Lord’s supper. At this

period, the chapel was attended by not a few of the nobility: as Lord

Camden, then lord chancellor of England, Lord Northington, Earl Chatham

and family, Lord Rockingham, Lady Malpas, Lord and Lady Powys, Lord

and Lady Buchan, the Duke of Bedford and family, Dr. Barnard, bishop

of Londonderry, and last, but not least, Horace Walpole, who, in a

letter to John Chute, Esq., dated “Bath, October 10, 1766,” gives the

following lively, if not strictly accurate, description of what he saw

and heard.

“I have been at one opera—Mr. Wesley’s. They have boys and girls, with

charming voices, that sing hymns in parts to Scotch ballad tunes; but,

indeed, so long, that one would think they were already in eternity,

and knew not how much time they had before them. The chapel is very

neat, with true gothic windows. I was glad to see that luxury is

creeping in upon them before persecution.” [Here follows a description

of the chapel.] “Wesley is a clean, elderly man, fresh coloured, his

hair smoothly combed, but with a little _soupcon_ of curl at the

ends. Wondrous clever, but as evidently an actor as Garrick. He spoke

his sermon, but so fast, and with so little accent, that I am sure

he has often uttered it, for it was like a lesson. There were parts

and eloquence in it; but, towards the end, he exalted his voice, and

acted very ugly enthusiasm, decried learning, and told stories, like

Latimer, of the fool of his college, who said, ‘I _thanks_ God for

everything.’ Except a few from curiosity, and _some honourable women_,

the congregation was very mean.”[639]

Considering the many years during which Wesley had been accustomed

to preach at Bath, it may seem strange to some, that he should now

be preaching, not in his own chapel, but in another’s. The truth

is, though so much time and labour had been bestowed on Bath, by

himself, his brother, and their preachers, the results were exceeding

small. They had a preaching place in Avon Street; but it was mean,

and surrounded by a population not the most respectable. They had a

society; but it was dwindling instead of growing. In 1757, the members

were fifty-five in number; in 1762, they were thirty-one; in 1767, they

were twelve. In a letter to Miss Bishop, in the last mentioned year,

Wesley says: “We have had a society in Bath for about thirty years;

sometimes larger and sometimes smaller. It was very small this autumn,

consisting of only eleven or twelve persons, of whom Michael Hemmings

was leader. I spoke to these one by one, added nine or ten more,

divided them into two classes, and appointed half of them to meet with

Joseph Harris.”[640]

But leaving the quadruple alliance already mentioned, we must return to

Wesley’s gospel wanderings.

On the 10th of March, he set out, from London, on his long journey

to the north. Coming, as usual, to Bristol, he wrote: “I rode to

Kingswood, and having told my whole mind to the masters and servants,

spoke to the children in a far stronger manner than ever I did before.

I will kill or cure. I will have one or the other: a Christian school,

or none at all.”

From Bristol, Wesley made his way to Stroud and Cheltenham. The

latter town, like Bath, was a place of fashion and of pleasure, and,

therefore, not a friendly soil for Methodism. Wesley had preached

here twenty-two years before, “to a company,” he says, “who seemed to

understand just as much of the matter as if he had been talking Greek.”

He now tried again, out of doors, in the midst of a piercing wind, and

none, rich or poor, went away till his sermon was concluded. Three

years afterwards, the Methodist itinerants began to visit Cheltenham;

and, among others converted, was Miss Penelope Newman,[641] who soon

became the leader of two classes, and a select band,[642] and who, for

years, was one of Wesley’s correspondents. Before her conversion, she

kept a bookshop; afterwards, she devoted herself wholly to the work

of God, making visits to adjacent towns and villages, and, like Sarah

Crosby and others, occasionally giving public exhortations.[643] For

long years, the meeting place of the Methodists at Cheltenham was a

small house in Pitville Street, which was alternately occupied by them

and by the baptists;[644] and such was the slow progress of Methodism

in this place of fashionable resort, that it was not until the year

1813 that the Methodists obtained a chapel of their own, and even then

there were only twenty in society.[645]

Leaving Cheltenham, Wesley proceeded to Evesham, where the mob,

encouraged by the magistrate, made noise enough; but as they used

neither stones nor dirt, Wesley says, “We were well contented.”

After preaching at Birmingham, Wesley, on March 20, paid his first

visit to Burton on Trent, where Thomas Hanby had introduced Methodism

by preaching in the house of a shoemaker, the mob smashing poor

Crispin’s windows, and the preacher having to hide himself from his

murderous enemies beneath the cutting board.[646]

Proceeding to Nottingham, Wesley preached in the octagon chapel, which

had just been built at the cost of £128 2_s._ 7_d._ No wonder that he

says, “it was filled with serious hearers.” Up to the present, the

Nottingham Methodists had held their meetings in the house of Matthew

Bagshaw, who, to accommodate the people, fixed, in the floor of his

chamber, a large trap door, which, when lifted up, converted Matthew’s

dormitory into a sort of gallery; and the preacher, standing in the

aperture, with his head just through the floor, was thus enabled to

preach to the female part of his congregation in the room below, and,

at the same time, to the men occupying the room above.

From Nottingham, Wesley made his way to Sheffield. Here two

Methodist meeting-houses had been demolished by Sheffield mobs; but

a third was now erected in Mulberry Street, fifty-four feet long,

and six-and-thirty wide, and in this Wesley preached on March 26.

He writes: “We had a numerous congregation. There has been much

disturbance here this winter; but to-night all was peace.” The

disturbance mentioned was occasioned by a buffoon general leading on

a mob of empty headed young fellows from sixteen to twenty years of

age. Often were the cloaks and gowns of females cut into tatters with

knives or scissors. Sometimes the chief, dressed as a harlequin, would

enter the chapel, concealing, beneath his clothing, cats, or cocks and

hens, whose mewings, cacklings, and crowings, were not calculated to

improve the devotion of the people. When expelled from the interior

of the building, he would contrive to climb the roof, where, in front

of a large skylight nearly over the pulpit, he was wont to mimic the

action of the preacher down below. The chapel windows were smashed,

and when shutters were put up, these were pelted with bricks, stones,

and sticks. For some reason, the captain and his gang were quiet at

the time Wesley preached; but their annoyances and persecutions were

continued for three months longer; at the end of which the poor wretch

was bathing in the Don, and, after besporting himself in the dingy

river for a considerable time, exclaimed, with an air of mockery

and mirth, “Another dip, and then for a bit more sport with the

Methodists!” In he plunged; down he sunk; and, sticking in the mud, was

drowned, before his associates could get him out.[647]

From Sheffield, Wesley proceeded to Eyam, Stockport, and Manchester.

Here, as in London and Bristol and other places, there was a large

decrease in the number professing Christian perfection. The fifty at

Manchester had dwindled down to one third of that number.

Why was this? The reader must imagine an answer for himself; we

profess only to furnish facts. Whitefield, of course, was an opponent

of Wesley’s doctrine; perhaps because he scarcely understood it. In a

letter dated “June 2, 1766,” he writes: “That _monstrous doctrine of

sinless perfection_, for a while, turns some of its deluded votaries

into temporary monsters.”[648] Charles Wesley was almost equally

incredulous. Wesley addressing him on July 9, 1766, remarks: “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. 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. I cordially assent to his opinion, that there is no

perfection here such 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.”[649]

Thus was Wesley between two fires; Whitefield setting the doctrine too

low, and Charles Wesley setting it too high; and both of them ready to

ridicule what Wesley called its witnesses. There can be no question,

that some of those witnesses injured the doctrine instead of helping

it. Wesley himself, on June 28 of this very year, writes to “Mrs.

R.,” probably Sarah Ryan, finding fault with her in reference to this

matter. “You _appear_,” says he, “to be above instruction from man. You

_appear_ to think that none understands the doctrine of sanctification

like _you_. Nay, you sometimes speak _as if_ none understood it _beside

you_. You _appear_ to undervalue the experience of almost every one,

in comparison of your own. I am afraid, also, you are in danger of

enthusiasm. We know there are Divine dreams and impressions; but how

easily may you be deceived herein! It has also been frequently said,

with some _appearance_ of truth, that you endeavour to _monopolize_

the affections of all that fall into your hands; that you destroy the

nearest and dearest connection they had before, and make them quite

cool and indifferent to their most intimate friends.”[650]

If such superciliousness, fanaticism, and selfishness _appeared_ to be

budding in a witness like Sarah Ryan, is it surprising that men like

Whitefield should stand in doubt? Wesley, in this matter, almost stood

alone, with the exception of his friend Fletcher, who wrote to him the

following hitherto unpublished letter.

“MADELEY, _February 17, 1766_.

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—As this is the time that you generally plan

your journeys, and you did not make Shropshire in your way last

year, I beg leave to put you in mind, that Christ and you have some

friends here, who would be glad to hear the word from your mouth, and

treasure it up in honest and simple hearts. Could not you so order

matters as to let us have you at Madeley one Sunday? If this should be

impracticable, call some week day; this would be better than to pass

us by altogether. The Lord, in mercy, gives me more love to these few

sheep, and to the brethren in general, than I ever had, which makes

my waiting upon them to be freedom; I hope it will be soon _perfect_

freedom.

“I think we must define exactly what we mean by the _perfection_ which

is attainable here. In so doing we may, through mercy, obviate the

scoffs of the carnal, and the misapprehension of the spiritual world,

at least, in part. The light, that I now see the thing in, is this:

as the body is not capable of perfection on this side the grave, all

those powers of the soul whose exertion depends, in part, on the frame

and well being of the body, or the happy flow of the animal spirits,

will not, cannot be perfected here. Of this sort are, I apprehend: (1)

the understanding; (2) the memory; (3) the passionate affections, or

the affections as they work, by means of the animal spirits, on the

animal frame. These are no doubt susceptible of admirable impressions,

and very high improvements; but still, ‘_corpus affiget humi Divinæ

particulam auræ_,’ more or less.

“The one power, then, that I see can be perfected here, because it is

altogether independent from the body, is _the will_, and, of course,

the _affections_ so far as they work on the will.

“I have had, for some time, a desire to execute the plan of a work,

which appears to me likely to be useful, if God gives me wisdom to

go through with it, and my friend’s help and direction. It should

be by way of dialogues, not between fine gentlemen, like Theron and

Aspasio; but, between a minister and one of his parishioners. Six

dialogues upon these subjects: the doctrine of the fall; salvation

by faith alone; the new birth; the inspiration of the Spirit; the

necessity of feeling His operations; the assurance of salvation: each

point proved by Scripture, reason, experience, and the authority of

the church, with the most common objections answered. The second part

would contain another set of dialogues, between the minister and other

parishioners of different characters—(1) an infidel; (2) a formalist;

(3) a moralist; (4) a worldling; (5) a railer at godly ministers and

people; with proper answers to their respective objections. I bespeak

your direction and corrections if I should execute this plan; and,

that you may be better able to judge whether I am to set about it in

earnest, or lay it aside, I shall prepare a dialogue for your perusal,

by way of specimen.

“The gentleman from West Bromwich, which was at my house when you were

here, has a hopeful son, seriously inclined, between fourteen and

fifteen, who waits to be bound apprentice to some chemist or druggist,

if one is to be found wanting an apprentice. Do you know of none in

the circle of your acquaintance?

“Brother Mather is so kind as to strengthen my hands in the

neighbourhood. I trust he will be an instrument of much good.

“I recommend myself to your prayers and direction; and, wishing that

the Lord may renew and increase your bodily and spiritual strength

daily,

“I remain, dear sir, your unworthy servant,

“JOHN FLETCHER.“

To this, Wesley replied as follows.

“LEWISHAM, _February 28, 1766_.

“What I mean by perfection, I have defined both in the first, and

in the farther thoughts upon that subject. ‘Pure love, rejoicing

evermore, praying always, in everything giving thanks.’ And I incline

to think, the account you give will amount to the very same thing. But

we may observe, that, naturally speaking, the animal frame will affect

more or less every power of the soul; seeing, at present, the soul can

no more _love_ than it can _think_ any otherwise than by the help of

bodily organs. If, therefore, we either think, speak, or love aright,

it must be by power from on high. And if our affections or will

continue right, it must be by a _continued_ miracle. Have we reason to

believe, or have we not, that God will _continually_ sustain the stone

in the air?

“Allow yourself compass enough, and I do not doubt the work you speak

of will be of use. But, I think, you will want to close the whole with

a dialogue on Christian perfection. Unity and holiness are the two

things I want among the Methodists. Who will rise up with me against

all open or secret opposers of one or the other? Such are, in truth,

all _prudent_, all _delicate_, all _fashionable_, all _half hearted_

Methodists. My soul is weary because of these murderers of the work of

God. O let us go through with our work. Why should we not give _totum

pro toto_? I hope you will always love and pray for, dear sir, your

affectionate brother and servant,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[651]

This was strong language; but Wesley was a firm believer in the

doctrine that he preached, and hence he was in earnest. There was a

serious reaction in reference to Christian perfection, and he was

exceedingly distressed. In May, 1766, he writes to Sarah Crosby: “A

general faintness, in this respect, is fallen upon the whole kingdom.

Sometimes, I seem almost weary of striving against the stream both of

preachers and people.”[652] Wesley, however, continued striving, for,

rightly or wrongly, he regarded the doctrine of Christian perfection

as indispensable to a continuance of the work of God. Hence, the

following, addressed to Mr. Merryweather, of Yarm.

“_February 8, 1766._

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—Where Christian perfection is not strongly and

explicitly preached, there is seldom any remarkable blessing from God;

and consequently little addition to the society, and little life in

the members of it. Therefore, if Jacob Rowell is grown faint, and says

but little about it, do _you_ supply his lack of service. Speak and

spare not. Let not regard for any man induce you to betray the truth

of God. Till you press the believers to expect _full salvation now_,

you must not look for any revival.

“It is certain, God does, at some times, without any cause known to

us, shower down His grace in an extraordinary manner; and He does, in

some instances, delay to give either justifying or sanctifying grace,

for reasons which are not discovered to us. These are some of those

secrets of His government, which it hath pleased Him to reserve in His

own breast. I hope you and your wife keep all you have, and gasp for

more.

“I am your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[653]

We must again pursue Wesley in his journeyings.

Leaving Manchester, he came, on April 2, to Chester, whither the

Gilbert family had removed from Kendal, and where he remained five

days, preaching from the texts following: Romans viii. 32-34; John v.

8, 9; John xvii. 3; Matthew ix. 5; and Isaiah xxxv. 8.[654]

On April 7, he reached Warrington, where a society was already formed,

and where he had “a large congregation,” at noonday, “of rich and poor,

learned and unlearned.” He says: “I never spoke more plain; nor have

I ever seen a congregation listen with more attention.” One of the

members at this period was William Young, who, for about twenty years

together, preached at Warrington every Monday night, extended his

labours to many parts of Lancashire and Cheshire, and who died in 1823,

uttering, as his last words on earth: “Come Lord Jesus; glory! glory!

angels, angels, coming, coming to take me to Abraham’s bosom.”[655]

At Liverpool, Wesley examined the new trust deed of Pitt Street chapel,

to which he objected, as follows: “1. It takes up three large skins of

parchment, and so could not cost less than six guineas; whereas our own

deed, transcribed by a friend, would not have cost six shillings. 2.

It is verbose beyond all sense and reason; and withal so ambiguously

worded, that one passage only might find matter for a suit of ten

or twelve years in chancery. 3. It everywhere calls the house a

meeting-house, a name which I particularly object to. 4. It leaves no

power either to the assistant or me, so much as to place or displace a

steward. 5. Neither I, nor all the conference, have power to send the

same preacher two years together. To crown all,—6. If a preacher is not

appointed at the conference, the trustees and the congregation are to

choose one by most votes! Can any one wonder I dislike this deed, which

tears the Methodist discipline up by the roots?”

On April 11, Wesley preached at Wigan, “to a large number of serious,

well behaved people, mixed with a few as stupidly insolent creatures

as he ever saw.” He then made his way to Brinsley, Bolton, Middleton,

Chapel-en-le-Frith, Rotherham, Doncaster, Awkborough, Barrow, Grimsby,

Louth, Horncastle, and other Lincolnshire towns and villages. He

writes: “John Hill has done more mischief at Horncastle than a man

of far greater talents can do good. By that unhappy division of the

society, he has opened the mouths of all the gainsayers; and, to

complete the scandal, he and six-and-twenty more have been dipped!” He

adds: “I do not choose to preach above twice or thrice in a day; but

when I am called to do more, it is all one: I find strength according

to my need.”

On April 28, he got to York; and, the day after, preached in the new

chapel at Thirsk; “almost equal,” he says, “to that at Yarm; and why

not quite, seeing they had the model before their eyes, and had nothing

to do but to copy after it? Is it not an amazing weakness, that, when

they have the most beautiful pattern before them, all builders will

affect to mend something?” This was a hard rap at good old Mr. Wells,

who built the chapel;[656] but architects and builders who spoil

chapels to gratify their own vain ambition have no right to wish or to

expect tender treatment from those who suffer by their preposterous

folly.

On reaching Newcastle, he spent nearly three weeks, partly in

comparative rest, and partly in preaching, and in visiting neighbouring

societies. He writes: “I know not to what it is owing, that I have

felt more weariness this spring than I had done before for many years;

unless to my fall at Christmas, which perhaps weakened the springs of

my whole machine more than I was sensible of.”

On the 19th of May, he set out, with his wife and daughter,[657] for

Scotland, preaching at Placey, Morpeth, Felton, Alnwick, Belford, and

Berwick on the way. The next five weeks were employed in the towns and

villages across the Tweed. The following are extracts from his Journal.

“Saturday, May 24.—I went to the room at Preston Pans; and I had it

all to myself; neither man, woman, nor child offered to look me in the

face; so I ordered a chair to be placed in the street. Then forty or

fifty crept together; but they were mere stocks and stones; no more

concerned than if I had talked Greek.”

“Monday, May 26: Edinburgh.—I spent some hours at the meeting of the

National Assembly. I am very far from being of Mr. Whitefield’s mind,

who greatly commends the solemnity of this meeting. I have seen few

less solemn. I was extremely shocked at the behaviour of many of the

members. Had any preacher behaved so at our conference, he would have

had no more place among us.”

“Thursday, June 5: Dundee.—I took occasion to repeat most of the

plausible objections which had been made to us in Scotland. I then

showed our reasons for the things which had been objected to us; and

all seemed to be thoroughly satisfied. The sum of what I spoke was

this: I love plain dealing. Do not you? I will use it now. Bear with

me. I hang out no false colours; but show you all I am, all I intend,

all I do. I am a member of the Church of England; but I love good men

of every church. My ground is the Bible; yea, I am a Bible bigot. I

follow it in all things, both great and small. Therefore—1. I always

use a short private prayer, when I attend the public service of God.

Do not you? Why do you not? Is not this according to the Bible? 2.

I stand, whenever I sing the praise of God in public. Does not the

Bible give you plain precedents for this? 3. I always kneel before the

Lord my Maker, when I pray in public. 4. I generally in public use

the Lord’s prayer, because Christ has taught me, when I pray, to say,

——. I advise every preacher connected with me, whether in England or

Scotland, herein to tread in my steps.”

“Sunday, June 8.—Knowing no reason why we should make God’s day

the shortest of the seven, I desired Joseph Thompson to preach, at

Aberdeen, at five. At eight, I preached myself. In the afternoon, I

heard a strong, close sermon, at Old Aberdeen; and afterwards preached

in the college kirk, to a very genteel, and yet serious congregation.

I then opened and enforced the way of holiness, at New Aberdeen.”

“Sunday, June 15: Edinburgh.—Our room was very warm in the afternoon,

through the multitude of people; a great number of whom were people

of fashion, with many ministers. I spoke to them with the utmost

plainness, and, I believe, not in vain. It is scarce possible to speak

too plain in England; but it is scarce possible to speak plain enough

in Scotland. If you do not, you lose all your labour, you plough upon

the sand.”

“Wednesday, June 18: Glasgow.—What a difference there is between the

society here, and that at Dundee. There are about sixty members there,

and scarce more than six scriptural believers. Here are seventy-four

members, and near thirty among them lively, zealous believers;

one of whom was justified thirty years ago, and another of them

two-and-forty; and several of them have been for many years rejoicing

in God their Saviour.”

“Monday, June 23.—At Thorny Hill, I met with Mr. Knox’s ‘History of

the Church of Scotland.’ And could any man wonder, if the members of

it were more fierce, sour, and bitter of spirit, than some of them

were? For what a pattern have they before them! I know it is commonly

said, ‘The work to be done needed such a spirit.’ Not so! the work

of God does not, cannot, need the work of the devil to forward it. A

calm, even spirit goes through rough work far better than a furious

one. Although, therefore, God did use, at the time of the Reformation,

some sour, overbearing, passionate men, yet He did not use them

because they were such, but notwithstanding they were so. And there

is no doubt, He would have used them much more, had they been of an

humbler and milder spirit.”

Wesley terminated his Scottish tour at Dumfries, and, in reaching

Solway Frith, had a somewhat dangerous adventure. He writes: “June

24.—Designing to call at an inn by the frith side, we were directed to

leave the main road, and go straight to the house which we saw before

us. In ten minutes, Duncan Wright was embogged: however, the horse

plunged on, and got through. I was inclined to turn back; but Duncan

telling me I need only go a little to the left, I did so, and sunk at

once to my horse’s shoulders. He sprung up twice, and twice sank again,

each time deeper than before. At the third plunge, he threw me on one

side, and we both made shift to scramble out. I was covered with fine,

soft mud, from my feet to the crown of my head; yet, blessed be God,

not hurt at all.”

Wesley was again in England; and, after visiting Whitehaven, rode, on

June 30, more than seventy miles, through a rough, mountainous region,

on his way to Barnard castle, where he says: “At six, I preached in an

open space, adjoining to the preaching house. As the militia were in

town, the far greater part of them attended, with a large congregation

from town and country. It rained most of the time I was speaking; but,

I believe, hardly six persons went away.”

On July 2, he preached in Weardale, and says: “Here a poor woman was

brought to us, who had been disordered several years, and was now

raving mad. She cursed and blasphemed in a terrible manner, and could

not stand or sit still for a moment. However, her husband held her by

main strength, although she shrieked in the most dreadful manner; but,

in a quarter of an hour, she left off shrieking, and sat motionless and

silent, till she began crying to God, which she continued to do, almost

without intermission, till we left her.”

After spending three days at Newcastle, and in its neighbourhood,

Wesley started for the south. At Yarm, on July 9, he held the quarterly

meeting, and remarks: “The societies in this circuit increase; that is,

among the poor; for the rich, generally speaking, ‘care for none of

these things.’”

The Yarm circuit, at this period, extended as far south as Ripon,

a distance of thirty miles, where some of the Methodists had been

subjected to harsh and unlawful usage. This led Wesley to address the

following characteristic letter to the Rev. Mr. Wanley, dean of Ripon;

who, though a magistrate, had for many years refused to administer

justice in the case of persecuted Methodists.[658]

“YARM, _July 9, 1766_.

“REVEREND SIR,—The regard which I owe to a fellow Christian, and much

more to a clergyman and a magistrate, constrains me to trouble you

with a few lines, though I have no personal acquaintance with you.

Ralph Bell has just been giving me an account of the late affair

at Ripon. What he desires is—(1) to have the loss he has sustained

repaired; and (2) liberty of conscience; that liberty which every

man may claim as his right, by the law of God and nature, and to

which every Englishman, in particular, has a right by the laws of

his country. I well know the advantage these laws give us in the

present case: I say us, because I make the case my own, as I think

it my bounden duty to do. I have had many suits in the King’s Bench,

and, blessed be God, I never lost one yet. But I would far rather put

an amicable end to any dispute, where it can be done. Not that I am

afraid of being overborne by the expense: if I am not, I know them

that are able to bear it. But I love peace. I love my neighbour as

myself, and would not willingly bring loss or trouble upon any man. Be

so good as to impute to this motive my interfering in this matter.

“I am, reverend sir, your servant for Christ’s sake,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[659]

Wesley was a man of peace; but he was not a man to relinquish lightly

the lawful rights of himself and his people. With all the generosity

of a great leader, he was as ready to fight for the poorest of his

followers as for himself. A man unknown to fame, like Ralph Bell, of

Ripon, was as sure to secure his sympathy as the most illustrious

disciple that he had.

From Yarm, Wesley proceeded to the small village of Hutton Rudby, where

there was the largest society in the Yarm circuit, and where only two

out of the sixteen, who professed to be entirely sanctified two or

three years before, had “lost the direct witness of that salvation.”

At Stokesley, he preached in the new chapel; and went from there to

Guisborough, Whitby, Robinhood’s Bay, Scarborough, Pickering, and

Malton. In the two last mentioned towns, societies had been formed by

John Manners, three years before; the members at Pickering numbering

fifteen, and at Malton nineteen. Mr. Hebdon, a clergyman, commanded the

churchwardens and constables to pull Mr. Manners down, and threatened

that he would, in the week following, banish all the Methodists from

the town and neighbourhood. It so happened, however, that, in going

from an entertainment a few nights after, the vindictive parson fell

from his horse, and broke his neck.[660]

From Malton, Wesley proceeded to Beverley, Hull, Pocklington, and York.

Here an odd incident occurred. Wesley simply writes: “York, Sunday,

July 20, 1766.—After preaching at eight, I went to St. Saviour-gate

church. Towards the close of the prayers, the rector sent the sexton to

tell me the pulpit was at my service. I preached on the conclusion of

the gospel for the day, ‘Not every one that saith unto Me, Lord, Lord,’

etc. I did not see one person laugh or smile, though we had an elegant

congregation.”

Wesley says no one laughed or smiled, a fact worth noting, for there

was enough in the event to make men smile against their wish. The truth

is, the rector, the Rev. Mr. Cordeux, in his simplicity, made a great

mistake. On previous occasions, he had felt it to be his duty to warn

his congregation against hearing “that vagabond Wesley preach”; and

now he himself invited Wesley to preach to the very congregation who

had been warned against him. The explanation of the affair is this:

Wesley, after preaching in his own chapel at Peasholm Green, went in

his canonicals to Mr. Cordeux’s church. Mr. Cordeux saw that he was a

clergyman, and, without knowing who he was, offered him his pulpit.

After service, he asked his clerk if he knew who the stranger was. The

clerk replied, “Sir, he is the vagabond Wesley, against whom you warned

us.” “Aye, indeed!” said the astonished rector, “we are trapped; but

never mind, we have had a good sermon.” The Dean of York heard of the

affair, and threatened to lay a complaint before the archbishop; but

Mr. Cordeux outstripped the dean, and told the story to the archbishop

before the dean could reach him. “You did right,” replied his grace;

and so the matter ended, with the exception, that when Wesley came

again, Mr. Cordeux made him a second offer of his pulpit, and Wesley

preached upon the eight beatitudes.[661]

From York, Wesley went to Tadcaster and Pateley Bridge. At the latter

place he had the largest congregation he had seen since he left

Newcastle. “As it rained,” says he, “I desired the men to put on their

hats; but, in two or three minutes, they pulled them off again, and

seemed to mind nothing but how they might ‘know the grace of our Lord

Jesus Christ.’” This devout behaviour was widely different to the rough

treatment of Thomas Lee, fourteen years before, when his head was

broken with a stone, and he himself rolled in the common sewer, and

then thrown into the river.

On leaving Pateley, Wesley wended his way to Skipton, Addingham,

Baildon, and Bradford. “At Bradford,” he writes, “there was so huge a

multitude, and the rain so damped my voice, that many, in the skirts

of the congregation, could not hear distinctly. They have just built a

preaching house, fifty-four feet square, the largest octagon we have in

England; and it is the first of the kind where the roof is built with

common sense, rising only a third of its breadth; yet, it is as firm as

any in England; nor does it at all hurt the walls. Why then does any

roof rise higher? Only through want of skill, or want of honesty, in

the builder.”

The first Methodist meeting-house in Bradford was the second floor of

a large building near the cockpit, and which subsequently became the

meeting place of the followers of Joanna Southcote, and then of the

Swedenborgians, and then, in succession, was used as a barrack room,

a paint shop, a school, a vagrants’ refuge, a warehouse, a printing

office, and a joiner’s shop. Here the Methodists worshipped till

about the year 1760, when the floor gave way, and they removed to Mr.

Garnett’s barn. Then they erected the octagon chapel, so eulogised by

Wesley, the first subscription to which, obtained by Richard Fawcett,

amounted to the munificent sum of twopence,[662] and the entire cost of

which was £997 8_s._ 9_d._[663]

From Bradford, Wesley made a tour to Colne, Padiham, Bacup,

Heptonstall, Ewood, and Halifax. John Nelson had preached the first

Methodist sermon in the last mentioned town, his pulpit being a washing

tub turned upside down; and, among others who had been converted, was

the celebrated Titus Knight, originally a poor collier, but ultimately

one of Wesley’s itinerants, then an able Dissenting minister, and the

father of a son who became vicar of this important town in Yorkshire.

Another, who equally deserves notice, was a female, who suffered total

blindness for nearly fourscore years, and who, when she joined the

Methodists, had only three halfpence a day to live upon; and yet, out

of that poor pittance, insisted upon giving a weekly contribution in

her class, and assisted in paying the debts of Titus Knight.[664]

Grimshaw of Haworth was dead, and so was his son at Ewood; but

Haworth church was still open; and, besides this, there was the small

Methodist chapel, which had been built by Grimshaw, and which served

the Methodists till 1828.[665] Grimshaw’s successor was the Rev. John

Richardson, a native of Crosby, in Westmoreland, a man of polished

manners, of unaffected piety, and of a mild and amiable disposition,

and who died at Haworth a few weeks after Wesley died in London.[666]

Wesley had witnessed many a glorious scene in Grimshaw’s old

churchyard; but never a more glorious one than awaited him on Sunday,

August 3, 1766. He writes: “When the prayers at Haworth were ended,

I preached from a little scaffold on the south side of the church.

The communicants alone (a sight which has not been seen since Mr.

Grimshaw’s death) filled the church. In the afternoon, the congregation

was supposed to be the largest which had ever been there; but strength

was given me in proportion; so that I believe all could hear.” He

continues:

“Monday, August 4.—At one, I preached at Bingley, but with a heavy

heart, finding so many of the Methodists here, as well as at Haworth,

perverted by the anabaptists. I see clearer and clearer, none will

keep to us, unless they keep to the Church. Whoever separate from the

Church will separate from the Methodists.“

It will thus be seen that separation from the Church was still one of

the ghosts that haunted Wesley’s path; and, hence, it will be found

that this was one of the great topics discussed at his approaching

conference, which was commenced in Leeds eight days after.

But before reviewing the proceedings of the conference, it is of some

importance to understand the relation in which Wesley, at this time,

stood towards his brother Charles. For many years, his brother had

ceased to itinerate, and had confined his labours almost exclusively

to London and Bristol; so that the gigantic toil of visiting all the

Methodist societies in the United Kingdom fell upon Wesley himself.

But, added to this, Charles Wesley was no longer his brother’s warm

hearted, confidential counsellor. Charles disliked his brother’s

marriage; and he was almost horrified at his brother’s concessions to

the preachers who advocated separation from the Church; and, hence,

without the thing being openly confessed, there was undoubtedly a

sort of silent estrangement between them, very different from the

close, genial, trustful, fraternal friendship which existed at the

commencement of their Methodist career. The following extracts from

Wesley’s letters refer to this.

“LEWISHAM, _February 28, 1766_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—We must, we must, you and I at least, be all devoted

to God! Then wives, and sons, and daughters, and everything else,

will be real, invaluable blessings. _Eia age, rumpe moras!_ Let us

this day use all the power we have! If we have enough, well; if not,

let us this day expect a fresh supply. How long shall we drag on thus

heavily, though God has called us to be the chief conductors of such a

work? Alas! what conductors! If I am, in some sense, the head, and you

the heart, of the work, may it not be said, ‘The whole head is sick,

and the whole heart is faint’? Come, in the name of God, let us arise,

and shake ourselves from the dust! Let us strengthen each other’s

hands in God, and that without delay. Have _senes sexagenarii_ time to

lose? Let you and I, and our house, serve the Lord in good earnest.

May His peace rest on you and yours! Adieu!

“JOHN WESLEY.”[667]

“WHITEHAVEN, _June 27, 1766_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—I think you and I have abundantly too little

intercourse with each other. Are we not old acquaintance? Have we not

known each other for half a century? and are we not jointly engaged in

such a work as probably no two other men upon earth are? Why then do

we keep at such a distance? It is a mere device of Satan. But surely,

we ought not, at this time of day, to be ignorant of his devices. Let

us, therefore, make full use of the little time that remains. We, at

least, should think aloud, and use to the uttermost the light and

grace on each bestowed, and insist everywhere on full redemption,

receivable now by faith alone! consequently to be looked for now.

You are made, as it were, for this very thing. Just here you are in

your element. In connection I beat you; but in strong, short, pointed

sentences, you beat me. Go on, in what God has peculiarly called you

to. Press the instantaneous blessings; then I shall have more time for

my peculiar calling, enforcing the gradual work.

“We must have a thorough reform of the preachers. I wish you would

come to Leeds, with John Jones, in the machine. It comes in two days;

and, after staying two days, you might return. I would willingly bear

your expenses up and down. I believe it would help, not hurt, your

health. My love to Sally.

“JOHN WESLEY.”[668]

Did Charles Wesley go to the conference at Leeds? It is probable he

did; indeed, almost certain. Hence, in a letter to his wife at Bristol,

written just about the date when the conference closed, he says: “My

brother, I presume, will look upon you on Wednesday sennight, in his

flight to the Land’s End. He is an astonishing youth! and may be

saluted, like the eastern monarchs, ‘O king, live for ever!’”[669]

It would thus seem, that Charles Wesley had seen his brother; and

if so, it must have been at Leeds. The settling of this point is of

considerable importance, inasmuch as at no conference did Wesley enter

so elaborately into the three great questions of the day,—separation

from the Church, his own administrative power, and what he calls, in

the foregoing letter, “a thorough reform of the preachers.”