“Why are not _we_ more holy? breathing the whole spirit of
_missionaries_? Answer.—Because we are enthusiasts; looking for the
end, without using the means. In order to be thoroughly convinced
of this, we need only consider the first minutes, and each examine
himself upon each article. To touch only upon two or three instances.
Do you rise at four? or even at five, when you do not preach? Do you
fast once a week? once a month? Do you know the obligation or benefit
of it? Do you recommend the five o’clock hour for private prayer? Do
you observe it? Do not you find that _any time_ is _no time_?”
None but a man like Wesley would have dared to use faithful dealing
like this; and none but men like Wesley’s itinerants would have quietly
submitted to such a castigation. He was evidently determined to kill or
to cure; or, to employ his own expression, to “have a thorough reform
of the preachers.” For the first time, we have a list of the questions
proposed to every preacher on probation before his being received into
full connexion.
“Have you faith in Christ? Are you _going on to perfection_? Do you
expect to be _perfected in love_, in this life? Are you groaning after
it? Are you resolved to devote yourself _wholly_ to God and His work?
Do you know the _Methodist doctrine_? Have you read _the sermons_, and
_the Notes_ on the New Testament? Do you know the _Methodist plan_?
Have you read the _Plain Account_, and _the Appeals_? Do you know the
_rules_ of the society, and of the bands? and do you keep them? Do you
take no snuff? Tobacco? Drams? Do you constantly attend the church and
sacrament? Have you read the Minutes, and are you willing to conform
to them? Have you considered the twelve rules of a helper; especially
the first, tenth, and twelfth; and will you keep them for conscience
sake? Are you determined to employ _all_ your time in the work of God?
Will you preach every morning and evening; endeavouring not to speak
too loud, or too long; not lolling with your elbows? Have you read the
‘Rules of Action and Utterance’? Will you meet the society, the bands,
the select society, and the leaders of bands and classes in every
place? Will you diligently and earnestly instruct the children, and
visit from house to house? Will you recommend fasting, both by precept
and example?”
These questions,—with the exception of those concerning attendance
at church and sacrament, the reading of the “Rules of Action and
Utterance,” the meeting of the societies, etc., and an important
modification of that concerning preaching every morning and every
night,—are still put to all candidates for the Methodist ministry, and
are expected to be answered affirmatively before such candidates are
admitted to ordination. If answered sincerely and truly, the Methodist
ministry, in diligence, in piety, and in success, would have no
superiors.
Much space has been occupied with the proceedings of the conference
of 1766, but they were far too important to be omitted, or materially
abridged. Other matters claimed attention at that conference, though
inferior to the foregoing. For instance, it was ascertained, that the
debts on the Methodist chapels, throughout the kingdom, amounted to
£11,383. “We shall be ruined,” writes Wesley, “if we go on thus.” It
was resolved, that the obnoxious trust deed at Liverpool, which has
been already mentioned, should be substituted by another; that no
classes should meet in chapels; that the rules of the society should
be given to every one when taken on trial; that the rules relating to
ruffles, lace, snuff, and tobacco, should be calmly but vigorously
enforced; and, that the sermons on wandering thoughts, indwelling sin,
the Lord our Righteousness, and the Scripture way of salvation, should
be carefully distributed.[671] This was one of the most important
conferences that Wesley ever held. Considering the plain dealing that
had been employed, it is as gratifying as it is a matter of surprise,
to find Wesley saying: “Tuesday, August 12—Our conference began, and
ended on Friday evening. A happier conference we never had, nor a more
profitable one. It was both begun and ended in love, and with a solemn
sense of the presence of God.”
On the day that Wesley opened his conference at Leeds, his house at
Windmill Hill, London, was entered by burglars, and a quantity of linen
and wearing apparel stolen.[672] On the 20th of August, he reached
London himself; and, on the 25th, set out for Bath, Bristol, and
Cornwall.
On his way to the west of England, Wesley opened the new chapel at
Shaftesbury. He says: “August 29, 1766—I preached in the new house,
filled within and without, to the no small astonishment, it seemed, of
most of the hearers.”[673]
The next day, August 30, he writes: “We rode to Stallbridge, long the
seat of war, by a senseless, insolent mob, encouraged by their betters,
so called, to outrage their quiet neighbours. For what? Why, they were
mad; they were Methodists. So, to bring them to their senses, they
would beat their brains out. They broke their windows, leaving not one
whole pane of glass, spoiled their goods, and assaulted their persons
with dirt, and rotten eggs, and stones, whenever they appeared in the
street. But no magistrate, though they applied to several, would show
them either mercy or justice. At length they wrote to me. I ordered a
lawyer to write to the rioters. He did so; but they set him at nought.
We then moved the court of King’s Bench. By various artifices they got
the trial put off, from one assizes to another, for eighteen months.
But it fell so much the heavier on themselves, when they were found
guilty; and, from that time, finding there is law for Methodists, they
have suffered them to be at peace. I preached near the main street
without the least disturbance, to a large and attentive congregation.”
At Ashburton, many of Wesley’s congregation “behaved with decency; but
the rest with such stupid rudeness as he had not seen, for a long time,
in any part of England.”
At Plymouth, “at the close of his sermon, a large stone was thrown in
at one of the windows, and fell at his feet.”
At Truro, he says: “I was in hopes, when Mr. Walker died, the enmity
in those who were called his people would have died also; but it is
not so; they still look upon us as rank heretics, and will have no
fellowship with us.”
At Helstone, he “preached to an exceeding large and serious
congregation.” He writes: “What a surprising change is wrought here,
within a few years, where a Methodist preacher could hardly go through
the street without a shower of stones!”
Methodism was introduced into Helstone by Mr. Hitchens, one of
Wesley’s first preachers; and the first class was led by Mrs. Triggs,
the daughter of a clergyman, and a woman of superior mind and
character.[674] Once, while the Helstone Methodists were assembled in
their preaching room, one of them unaccountably observed, “We will not
hold our meeting here to-night, but at the house of ——.” For a time,
the others objected; but, at last, yielded, and went to the house which
had been mentioned. Strangely enough, before the adjourned meeting was
concluded, a fire broke out, and, in its progress, seized on a large
quantity of gunpowder, by the explosion of which the old Methodist
meeting room was blown to atoms.[675]
Another anecdote, relating to Helstone, deserves notice. “I was born,”
said old Peter Martin, “at Helstone in 1742. My wife is ninety-four
years old, and our united ages amount to one hundred and ninety-one
years. I have been sexton of Helstone parish sixty-five years. I
first heard Mr. Wesley preach in the street, near our market house,
seventy-four years ago. I had an adventure with him while I was ostler
at the London Inn. One day, he came, and obtained my master’s leave
for me to drive him to St. Ives. On arriving at Hayle, we found the
sands, between that place and St. Ives, overflown by the rising tide.
Mr. Wesley was resolved to go on; for he said he had to preach at St.
Ives at a certain hour, and must be there. Looking out of the carriage
window, he called, ‘Take the sea! take the sea!’ In a moment, I dashed
into the waves, and was quickly involved in a world of waters. The
horses were swimming, and the wheels of the carriage not unfrequently
sunk into deep hollows in the sands. I expected every moment to be
drowned, but heard Mr. Wesley’s voice, and saw his long white hair
dripping with salt water. ‘What is your name, driver?’ he calmly
asked. I answered, ‘Peter.’ ‘Peter,’ said he, ‘Peter, fear not; thou
shalt not sink.’ With vigorous whipping I again urged on the flagging
horses, and at last got safely over. Mr. Wesley’s first care was to
see me comfortably lodged at the tavern; and then, totally unmindful of
himself, and drenched as he was with the dashing waves, he proceeded to
the chapel, and preached according to his appointment.”[676]
Having spent a fortnight among the Cornish Methodists, everywhere
preaching to large and attentive congregations, Wesley returned, on
September 23, to Bristol. Here, and at Bath, and in the surrounding
country, he employed the next four weeks; and, on October 25, came to
London, and wrote: “How pleasing would it be to play between London and
Bristol, and preach always to such congregations as these! But what
account then should I give of my stewardship when I can ‘be no longer
steward’?”
In the autumn of this year, he received two letters from Captain Scott,
who was stationed with his regiment at Northampton.[677] Here Mr.
Blackwell and Mr. Glasbrook had been preaching, the regimental riding
house serving as the place of meeting. Large crowds flocked to hear,
and numbers were converted. Captain Scott urged Wesley to send an
additional preacher to the Bedford circuit, who might take Northampton
and the surrounding villages. “The Lord,” says he, “has opened you a
door in Northampton at last, and will perhaps condescend to make us,
unworthy creatures, instruments of assisting you. I therefore wish you
were well established there before we leave. As persons of all ranks
go to hear, I hope you will send a preacher that will be acceptable
to them; for the work, being in its infancy, might be injured, if one
was sent they did not like.” Wesley was not the man to neglect an
opening like this; and, accordingly, on November 10, set out. On his
way, however, he found that James Glasbrook had made arrangements for
his preaching every day in Bedfordshire, and, hence, he was obliged
to send Richard Blackwell to Northampton to supply his place. In this
way, principally by means of soldiers, Methodism was planted in this
important town, and here, as elsewhere, began to fulfil its mission.
With the exception of his usual Kentish tour, the rest of the year was
spent in London. Here he preached on family religion, which he calls
“the grand desideratum among the Methodists.” He also delivered one or
more discourses, as he had previously done in Bristol, on the education
of children, “wherein,” says he, “we are shamefully wanting.” Some of
the Bristol people answered, by saying, “Oh, he has no children of his
own!” But the London Methodists were convinced of their defects. He
also commenced a course of sermons on Christian perfection, “if haply,”
says he, “that thirst after it might return, which was so general a few
years ago. Since that time, how deeply have we grieved the Holy Spirit
of God! Yet two or three have lately received His pure love: and a few
more are brought to the birth.”
Every one must be struck with Wesley’s almost unequalled
labours,—labours prosecuted, not for honour, inasmuch as, for the
present, at all events, they only brought him contempt and ridicule;
nor for fortune, inasmuch as he took nothing from the people among
whom he laboured, except, occasionally when his purse was empty, a few
pence or shillings to pay his turnpike gates or his ostler’s bill.
Indeed, money, like all his other talents, he devoted entirely to the
work of God. He sometimes had it; but he never kept it. “Hundreds and
thousands,” says Thomas Olivers, “are for ever draining Mr. Wesley’s
pocket to the last shilling, as those about him are eye witnesses.”[678]
A remarkable instance of this occurred in the year 1766. Two years
before, when at Durham, he met with Miss Lewen, a young lady of about
two-and-twenty, with a yearly income of £600, at her own disposal. Some
months previously, she had found peace with God, and had joined the
Methodists. A friendship sprung up. Her father treated Wesley with the
utmost civility, and said, he had done his daughter more good than all
the physicians had; and wished her to go to London, where she might
have the benefit of his advice, and also communion with his people. She
went, and made her abode with Miss Bosanquet, Sarah Crosby, and Sarah
Ryan, at their orphanage at Leytonstone. Her health was exceedingly
infirm, suffering as she did from a heart disease. In October, 1766,
after a few days’ illness, she expired; some of her last words being,
“Oh now I know I shall be with Christ for ever! Yes, I shall be with
Thee, O Lord, for ever! Oh for ever! for ever! for ever! Yes! I shall
be with Thee for ever!”[679] Wesley went to visit her, but found her
dead; and, after describing her last moments, writes: “So died Margaret
Lewen! a pattern to all young women of fortune in England: a real Bible
Christian.”
Wesley’s serious accident, by the falling of his horse in Southwark, at
the end of 1765, has been already mentioned. A few months after, Miss
Lewen gave him a chaise and a pair of horses,[680] which, as occasion
required, he began to use. She also left him a legacy of £1000, and “a
sum of money,” says _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, “to build a chapel, under
his direction.” The latter statement is a doubtful one; but it is a
fact that, in a codicil, she bequeathed to Miss Bosanquet’s orphanage
£2000, and wished to make it ten or twelve; but Miss Bosanquet
prevailed upon her to let her take the codicil and burn it.[681]
Considerable unpleasantness ensued; but, on August 11, 1767, Wesley
writes: “I came to a friendly conclusion with Mr. Lewen. He agreed
to pay the legacies on the 2nd of November, and we relinquished the
residue of the estate. So the harpy lawyers are happily disappointed,
and the design of the dying saint, in some measure, answered.”
By Miss Lewen’s will Wesley became the owner of £1000, probably the
largest sum that he ever had in his possession. The money, however, was
soon gone. In reference to it, Wesley says: “I am God’s steward for
the poor;”[682] and among the poor it was speedily distributed. His
own sister, Mrs. Hall, deserted by her worthless husband, applied for
a portion, but applied too late. Hence the following characteristic
letter, written within two years after Miss Lewen’s death.
“KINGSWOOD, _October 6, 1768_.
“DEAR PATTY,—You do not consider, money never stays with _me_: it
would burn me if it did. I throw it out of my hands as soon as
possible, lest it should find a way into my heart. Therefore, you
should have spoken to me while I was in London, and before Miss
Lewen’s money flew away. However, I know not, but I may still spare
you £5, provided you will not say, ‘I will never ask you again,’
because this is more than you can tell; and you must not promise more
than you can perform.
“Oh how busy are mankind! and about what trifles! Things that pass
away as a dream! Vanity of vanities, all is vanity, but to love and
serve God.
“I am, dear Patty, your ever affectionate,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[683]
It is pleasant to be loved; it is painful to be hated and despised.
Wesley had as great a share of both hatred and affection as most who
have ever lived. For more than thirty years, he had been the butt of
malice, as well as the object of Christian sympathy and love. He was
the cynosure towards which both loving and malignant eyes were turned.
This state of things still continued. Much has been already said
concerning Methodist persecution; much yet remains unsaid.
In 1766, a translation of Formey’s Ecclesiastical History, in two
volumes, was given to the public, and had attached to it an appendix,
containing “an account of Mr. Wesley and his sect.” The translator
tries to write fairly, but still speaks of Wesley’s doctrines as
issuing “in spiritual pride,” and as having a dangerous influence on
“virtuous practice.”
The _Gospel Magazine_, also, deemed it its pious duty to publish “A
Dialogue between the Foundery and the Tabernacle, occasioned by the
late publication of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s sermon upon ‘Imputed
Righteousness.’” The Tabernacle, of course, bombards the Foundery, and
thinks that it wins a glorious victory. Wesley “writes neither with the
wisdom of the scholar, the judgment of the divine, the ability of the
critic, nor with a becoming mildness and moderation. His principles
also are very erroneous.”
Laurence Sterne, clever but self conceited, pretentiously generous, but
sensually selfish, published his “Yorick’s Sermons and Meditations,”
and adorned them by describing Methodist preachers as “illiterate
mechanics, much fitter to make a pulpit than to get into one.”
The Rev. John Tottie, D.D., archdeacon of Worcester, and chaplain in
ordinary to his majesty, at the request of the clergy, issued “Two
Charges, delivered in the diocese of Worcester, in the years 1763 and
1766: one against the Papists, and the other against the Methodists”;
the reverend archdeacon advancing the postulatum, that “the tenets and
practices of the Methodist teachers are conformable to those of the
papists, and have a direct tendency to lead men into popery.”
Not only Churchmen, but Dissenters, mustered to the battle. A
shilling pamphlet was published, with the title, “The Causes and
Reasons of the present Declension among the Congregational Churches
in London and the Country; interspersed with reflections on Methodism
and Sandemanianism.” Methodism was growing; congregationalism
was declining. Why? The writer attributes the declension to “the
encroachments of the Methodists and the Sandemanians”; and strongly
censures the congregationalists for their “departure from the Bible,
for the sake of following the inventions of men, the cant of fanatics,
and the nostrums of systematic divines.”
Poetry likes to live among flowers, and in scenes of sublimity and
beauty; in 1766, it found a fresh well of inspiration, and made the
old Foundery its Helicon. The newspapers were enriched with poetical
effusions, like “A Modern Summer’s Evening,” in which
“Methodists to church repair,
Porters, tinkers, crowds, in shoals,
Pious cobblers mend, with prayer,
More their own than neighbours’ souls.”[684]
Besides these, the public were amused by the publication of “The
Methodist and Mimic,” a tale in Hudibrastic verse; by Peter Paragraph;
inscribed to Samuel Foote, Esq., who doubtless nursed the bantling with
natural affection.
There was also “The New Bath Guide; or, Memoirs of the B—r—d Family,
in a series of poetical Epistles;” the whole of which are rakish, vile
productions, and that on Methodism so pollutingly obscene, that it
would be criminal to quote it.
And then, to crown the whole, there was “The Methodist. A poem. By the
author of the ‘Powers of the Pen,’ and the ‘Curate.’” Two extracts may
be given as fair specimens of the whole. After portraying Whitefield,
the illustrious poet describes Wesley thus.
“A second agent, like the first,
Who on demoniac milk was nursed,
Had Moorfields trusted to his care,
For Satan keeps an office there.
Lean is the saint, and lank, to show
That flesh and blood to heaven can’t go;
His hair, like candles, hangs—a sign
How bright his inward candles shine.”
Wesley’s itinerants afford the poetic author wondrous amusement. A very
few of his sketchy couplets must suffice.
“Salvation now is all the cant;
Salvation is the only want:
Of the new birth they prate, and prate,
While midwifery is out of date.
Every mechanic will commence
Orator, without mood or tense.
The bricklayer throws his trowel by,
And now builds mansions in the sky.
The cobbler, touched with holy pride,
Flings his old shoes and lasts aside,
And now devoutly sets about
Cobbling of souls that ne’er wear out.
The baker, now a preacher grown,
Finds man lives not by bread alone,
And now his customers he feeds
With prayers, with sermons, groans, and creeds.
Weavers, inspired, their shuttles leave,
Sermons and flimsy hymns to weave.
Barbers unreaped will leave the chin,
To trim and shave the man within.
The gardener, weary of his trade,
Tired of the mattock and the spade,
Changed to Apollo in a trice,
Waters the plants of paradise.
The fishermen no longer set
For fish the meshes of their net;
But catch, like Peter, men of sin,
For catching is to take them in.”
All the rest is in keeping with this, except that some of the lines are
not only ribald, but obscene.
This was the sort of jeering which Wesley had to meet,—jeering which he
was often powerless to prosecute, and which it was beneath his dignity
to answer. Besides this, he was too much occupied with his own great
work to turn aside to chastise all the curs that availed themselves
of the liberty to snarl and bark at him. His societies were now so
numerous and important, that it was a gigantic task to visit them,
and regulate their multifarious affairs once a year. In addition, he
was bringing out his Notes on the Old Testament, a work, in itself,
quite sufficient for the time and energies of any ordinary man; and,
further, he had to enforce and to defend his doctrine of Christian
perfection, a doctrine imperfectly understood, and bitterly assailed.
Hence the publication of a small 12mo volume of 162 pages, entitled,
“A Plain Account of Christian Perfection, as believed and taught by
the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, from the year 1725, to the year 1765.” “What
I purpose,” says he, “is to give a plain and distinct account of the
steps by which I was led, during a course of many years, to embrace
the doctrine of Christian perfection.” The book is really historical,
rather than doctrinal, and is intended to show, that Wesley’s present
views were substantially the views which he had held for the last forty
years. This was unquestionably true, with the one exception of his now
teaching, that Christian perfection is attainable in _an instant_, and
by _faith only_. When did Wesley begin to teach this? He says, in 1741;
but the only evidence he adduces, in support of his affirmation, is the
hymn, then published, beginning with the line,
“Lord, I believe a rest remains;”
and containing the following stanzas.
“Oh that I now the rest might know,
_Believe_ and enter in!
_Now_, Saviour, _now_, the power bestow,
And let me cease from sin!
Remove this hardness from my heart,
This _unbelief_ remove;
To me the rest of _faith_ impart,
The sabbath of Thy love!”
The question here raised is not whether Wesley’s doctrine be true, or
whether it be false; but simply when he _began_ to preach it. He says,
from the beginning; Dr. Whitehead says otherwise. He writes: “Though
Mr. Wesley had so long held the doctrine of Christian perfection,
he had _not always_ held, that this state of mind might be attained
_in one moment_; much less, that a person might attain it in his
_novitiate_; nor do I know, that there were any professors of it
_before_ 1760, except when death was approaching.”[685]
Who will decide this question? It is full of interest, and is not
without importance.
1767.
[Sidenote: 1767 Age 64]
Charles Wesley was still preaching, alternately, in London and in
Bristol; and was writing and publishing his magnificent “Hymns on the
Trinity,” and his “Hymns for the Use of Families.”[686]
Whitefield’s health was better, and he was able to spend most of the
year 1767 in itinerating throughout England and Wales, and in preaching
to assembled thousands. At Rodborough, he writes: “I was regaled with
the company of some simple hearted, first rate old Methodists, of
near thirty years’ standing.”[687] At Haverfordwest, he says: “I am
just come from my field throne. Thousands and thousands attended by
eight in the morning. Life and light seemed to fly all around. Who
knows but preaching may be our grand catholicon again? This is the
good methodistical, thirty year old medicine.”[688] Again: “Who knows
but I may be strengthened to take a trip to Scotland? This itch after
itinerating I hope will never be cured till we come to heaven.”[689]
At Newcastle, he writes: “I have a blessed Methodist field street
preaching plan before me. You may venture to direct for me at Mr.
William Shent’s, peruke maker, at Leeds; but send me no bad news,
unless absolutely necessary. Let me enjoy myself in my delightful
itinerancy. It is good, both for my body and soul.”[690] At Thirsk,
in another letter, and in the same strain, he remarks: “My body
feels much fatigue in travelling; comforts in my soul overbalance.
Every stage, more and more, convinces me that old Methodism is the
thing—Hallelujah!”[691] And, again, on his return to London, in
October, he observes: “I am just returned from my northern circuit,
which has been pleasant, and I trust profitable. Everywhere the fields
have been white unto harvest. I am become a downright street and field
preacher. I wish the city, and want of riding, may not hurt me. No
nestling, no nestling on this side Jordan. Heaven is the believer’s
only resting place. There we shall not be disturbed.”[692]
Whitefield was again in his best beloved element. Alas! not for long!
With the exception of a short visit to Colchester, Norwich, and
Yarmouth, Wesley spent the first two months of 1767 in London; and, on
Ash Wednesday, March 4, “dined at a friend’s with Mr. Whitefield, still
breathing nothing but love.” The two Wesleys and Whitefield, three old
friends, were now “a threefold cord not quickly broken.” Their opinions
differed, but their hearts were one. Ever and anon, means were used to
create division; but the efforts failed. In some things, Wesley and his
brother held conflicting sentiments so strongly, that it was difficult
to work in harmony; but love not only ruled their hearts, but their
speech and lives. The following letter, addressed to Charles Wesley, is
illustrative of this.
“LONDON, _February 12, 1767_.
“DEAR BROTHER,—What I mean is, Bishop Lowth is sometimes
hypercritical, and finds fault where there is none. Yet, doubtless,
his is the best English grammar that is extant. I never saw ‘Hermes’;
the author of it is a rooted deist.
“Pray take care that brother Henderson wants nothing. Sickness is an
expensive thing.
“You are not yet (nor probably I) aware of pickthanks. Such were those
who told you I did not pray for you by name in public; and they are
liars into the bargain, unless they are deaf.
“The voice of one, who truly loves God, surely is,—
‘’Tis worse than death my God to love,
And not my God alone.’
“Such an one is certainly ‘as much athirst for sanctification as he
was once for justification.’ You remember, this used to be one of your
constant questions. It is not now; therefore, you are altered in your
sentiments: and, unless we come to an explanation, we shall inevitably
contradict each other. But this ought not to be in any wise, if it can
possibly be avoided.
“I still think, to disbelieve all the professors” [of sanctification]
“amounts to a denial of the thing. For if there be no living witness
of what we have preached for twenty years, I cannot, dare not, preach
it any longer. The whole comes to one point: is there, or is there
not, any instantaneous sanctification between justification and
death? I say, yes. You often seem to say, no. What arguments brought
you to think so? Perhaps they may convince me too.
“There is one question more, if you allow me there is such a thing;
can one who has attained it fall? Formerly I thought not; but you,
with Thomas Walsh and John Jones, convinced me of my mistake.
“On Monday I am to set out for Norwich. Divide the men and women at
once: so we do in London. I shall not be in town again till this day
fortnight.
‘Oh for a heart to praise my God!’
“What is there beside? Παντα γελως και παντα κονις. Adieu!
“JOHN WESLEY.”[693]
At this period the versatile Dr. Dodd was a large contributor to the
_Christian Magazine_, for which service he received £100 per annum.
Eleven years previous to this, Wesley had condescended to enter
into a long correspondence with him, on the subject of Christian
perfection.[694] Dodd, under a fictitious name, now revived the
subject; and Wesley says, “I at length obliged Dr. Dodd by entering
into the lists with him.” Wesley’s letter was published in _Lloyd’s
Evening Post_, of April 3, 1767.
“_March 26, 1767._
“SIR,—Many times, the publisher of the _Christian Magazine_ has
attacked me without fear or wit; and, hereby, he has convinced his
impartial readers of one thing, at least, that (as the vulgar say),
‘his fingers itch to be at me;’ that he has a passionate desire to
measure swords with me. But I have other work upon my hands: I can
employ the short remainder of my life to better purpose.
“The occasion of his late attack is this: five or six and thirty
years ago, I much admired the character of a perfect Christian drawn
by Clemens Alexandrinus. Five or six and twenty years ago, a thought
came into my mind, of drawing such a character myself, only in a more
scriptural manner, and mostly in the very words of Scripture. This I
entitled the ‘Character of a Methodist,’ believing, that curiosity
would incite more people to read it, and, also, that some prejudice
might thereby be removed from candid men. But, that none might imagine
I intended a panegyric either upon myself or my friends, I guarded
against this in the very title page, saying, in the name of both
myself and them, ‘Not as though I had already attained, either were
already perfect.’ To the same effect, I speak in the conclusion:
‘These are the principles and practices of our sect; these are the
marks of a true Methodist’ (that is, a true Christian as I immediately
after explain myself). ‘By these alone, do those, who are in derision
so called, _desire_ to be distinguished from other men. By these
marks, do we _labour_ to distinguish ourselves from those whose minds
or lives are not according to the gospel of Christ.’
“Upon this, ‘Rusticulus,’ or Dr. Dodd, says: ‘A Methodist, according
to Mr. Wesley, is one who is perfect, and sinneth not in thought,
word, or deed.’
“Sir, have me excused. This is not _according_ to Mr. Wesley. I have
told all the world, _I am not perfect_; and yet, you allow me to be a
_Methodist_. I tell you flat, _I have not attained_ the character I
draw. Will you pin it upon me in spite of my teeth?
“‘But Mr. Wesley says, the other Methodists have.’ I say no such
thing. What I say, after having given a scriptural account of a
perfect Christian, is this: ‘By these marks the Methodists _desire_ to
be distinguished from other men; by these we _labour_ to distinguish
ourselves.’ And do not you yourself _desire_ and _labour_ after the
very same thing?
“But you insist: ‘Mr. Wesley affirms the Methodists, that is, all
Methodists, to be perfectly holy and righteous.’ Where do I affirm
this? Not in the tract before us. In the front of this, I affirm
just the contrary; and that I affirm it anywhere else is more than
I know. Be pleased, sir, to point out the place; till this is done,
all you add, bitterly enough, is _brutum fulmen_; and the Methodists,
so called, may still ‘declare,’ without any impeachment of their
sincerity, that they ‘_do not come to the holy table trusting in their
own righteousness, but in God’s manifold and great mercies_.’
“I am, sir, yours, etc.,
“JOHN WESLEY.”
The above is an important letter, were it for nothing else than showing
that Wesley preached a doctrine he himself did not experience. For
above thirty years, he had taught the doctrine of Christian perfection;
but he here flatly declares, that, as yet, he had not attained to it:
he taught it, not because he felt it, but because he believed the Bible
taught it.
Wesley was anxious to visit his societies in the sister island.
Ireland sorely needed his societies, and his societies needed him.
As an instance illustrative of Ireland’s ignorance and superstition,
at this period of Wesley’s history, it may be stated, that there was
then a lake, in the county of Donegal, visited by about four thousand
pilgrims, from all parts of Ireland, every year, many of them being
the proxies of wealthier people, who, at a small expense of cash,
discharged their sins, by employing the feet and knees of their poorer
neighbours. The lake was about a mile and a half square, and had, in
the centre of it, a small island, on which were built two chapels,
and fifteen thatched dwellings for the accommodation of priests and
penitents. The stay of each pilgrim in the holy island was from three
to nine days, and his diet, during his visit, oatmeal and water. His
penance was, to walk, without shoes and stockings, on a path of sharp
and rough stones, not daring to pick his steps, for this would prevent
the remission of his sins at the soles of his feet, the proper outlet;
and would also divert his attention from the ave marias and pater
nosters which he had to mumble in his piercing pilgrimage. Besides this
pedestrian penance, he had to make the same sort of journey on his
uncovered knees; and then to take his position in a narrow vault, and
there sit with his head bowed down, for the space of four-and-twenty
hours, without eating, drinking, or sleeping, and all the while
repeating the prayers prescribed by his father confessor. To prevent
the danger of a nap, each pilgrim penitent was furnished with a pin, to
be suddenly inserted into his neighbour’s elbow, at the first approach
of a drowsy nod; and, to complete the whole, each one was taken to a
flat stone in the lake to undergo a scouring; after which, the priest
bored a hole through the top of the pilgrim’s staff, in which he
fastened a cross peg; and gave him as many holy pebbles from the lake
as the poor dupe cared to carry for amulets among his friends. Thus
scoured and fitted out, the man, with priestly and pious pomp, was then
dismissed; and, with his shillalah converted into a pilgrim’s cross,
became an object of veneration to all who met him.[695]
A journey to Ireland now is thought a trifle; but in Wesley’s days it
was otherwise. Wesley’s purpose was to embark from Bristol; but, on
arriving there, he found that there was no ship large enough to take
his horses. Accordingly, he had to hurry from Bristol to Liverpool,
where the same disappointment awaited him that he had met at Bristol. A
third time he started, and now hastened from Liverpool to Portpatrick
in Scotland; and here, on March 29, he was fortunate enough to find a
vessel of sufficient size to carry him and his equine friends across
the channel. Three weeks elapsed, however, from the time he left London
to the time he left Portpatrick. Of course the interval was not spent
without preaching. At Wednesbury, where, six months before, he had
left one of his wearied nags to enjoy a rest, he found the poor beast,
to the disgrace of the Wednesbury Methodists, had been ridden “all
the winter, and was now galled, jaded, and worn to skin and bones.”
At Liverpool, where he spent a sabbath, he made a public collection,
which, to the honour of the Liverpool Methodists, amounted to the
munificent sum of £1 4_s._ 9_d._[696] From Kendal to Portpatrick, he
had to struggle against wind, and rain, and snow, and sleet, through
the most miserable roads, and, at one point, Solway frith, through
water reaching to his horse’s belly. What but the love of Christ could
constrain a man to brave difficulties and dangers such as these?
Wesley spent four months in Ireland, from March 30 to July 29. A few
jottings of his journeyings may be useful.
On March 31, he met the society at Belfast, where the Methodist
preaching place was a slaughterhouse, and the circuit of which it
formed a part consisted of the whole of the territory now included in
the Portadown and Belfast districts; a circuit whose quarterly meeting
a year afterwards passed the magnanimous resolution, that every member
should “pay _a penny every quarter_ towards defraying the expenses of
the _round_.”[697]
At Newry, when he began to preach in the market house, his congregation
consisted of four persons besides himself. He writes, however: “A good
number assembled before I had done, only none of the gentry; they were
hindered by a business of more importance,—dressing for the assembly!”
It was about this period, that the following expensive item was, with
conscientious solemnity, entered in the Newry circuit stewards’ book:
“A lash for Mr. Wesley’s whip, 3_d._”[698]
On April 10, he writes: “I preached at Portadown, a place not troubled
with any kind of religion. I stood in the street; the people gathered
from all sides; and, when I prayed, kneeled down upon the stones, rich
and poor, all around me.”
“April 15.—I rode to Armagh. Half an hour before the time of preaching,
an officer came, and said, ‘Sir, the sovereign’ (or mayor) ‘orders me
to inform you, you shall not preach in this town.’ In order to make
the trial, I walked to the market house at six. I had just begun when
the sovereign came. He was talking very loud, and tolerably fast, when
a gentleman said: ‘Sir, if you are not allowed to preach here, you
are welcome to preach in Mr. M’Gough’s avenue.’ Mr. M’Gough, one of
the chief merchants in the town, himself showed us the way. I suppose
thrice as many people flocked there, as would have heard me in the
market house. So did the wise providence of God draw good out of evil!”
Soon after this, the archiepiscopal city of Ireland had not only a
Methodist society, but a Methodist meeting-house, measuring fourteen
feet by twelve, unceiled, and with a thatched roof,—a contrast to
Armagh’s cathedral.[699]
At Swadlingbar, Wesley found a lively congregation of plain country
people, “as simple and artless as if they had lived upon the Welsh
mountains.” As soon as he begun preaching, a papist commenced “blowing
a horn”; but “a gentleman,” says Wesley, “stepping up, snatched his
horn away, and, without ceremony, knocked him down.”
A similar fisticuff scene occurred at Kilfinnan. When Wesley commenced
preaching, a young man, “a kind of gentleman, took great pains to make
a disturbance. Mr. Dancer,” Wesley’s travelling companion, “mildly
desired him to desist; but was answered with a volley of oaths and a
blow: one of the town then encountered him,” says Wesley, “and beat him
well.”
At Athlone, Wesley opened a new chapel, which had been built by Mr.
Simpson, a magistrate, in his own garden, and at his own expense,
with a chamber over the end of it, for the accommodation of the
preachers.[700] “Here,” he says, “I rested for four days, only
preaching morning and evening. I would willingly have gone to church,
but was informed, there had been no service for near two years, and
would be none for a year or two longer, the inside of the church
wanting to be repaired!”
Upon the whole, Wesley was not satisfied with the state of his
societies in Ireland. “There is,” says he, “a considerable increase
of the work of God throughout the province of Ulster. There is some
increase in Connaught. In some parts of Leinster there is an increase.
But in Munster, a land flowing with milk and honey, how amazing a
change is there, for the worse, within a year or two.”[701]
The following letter to his brother refers to the same subject, and
also to the societies in England.
“ATHLONE, _June 21, 1767_.
“DEAR BROTHER,—For some time, I have had many thoughts concerning the
work of God in these kingdoms. I have been surprised, that it has
spread so far; and that it has spread no farther. And what hindered?
Surely the design of God was, to bow a nation to His sway; instead of
which, there is still only a Christian here and there; and the rest
are yet in the shadow of death; although those, who would profit by
us, have need to make haste, as we are not likely to serve them long.
“What, indeed, has hindered? I want to consider this. And must we not
first say, _Nos consules_? If we were more holy in heart and life,
thoroughly devoted to God, would not all the preachers catch our fire,
and carry it with them throughout the land?
“Is not the next hindrance the littleness of grace, rather than of
gifts, in a considerable part of our preachers? They have not the
whole mind that was in Christ; they do not steadily walk as He walked.
And, therefore, the hand of the Lord is stayed; though not altogether.
Though He does work still, it is not in such a degree as He surely
would, were they holy as He that hath sent them is holy.
“Is not the third hindrance the littleness of grace in the generality
of the people? Therefore, they pray little, and with little fervency,
for a general blessing; and, therefore, their prayer has little power
with God. It does not, as once, shut and open heaven. Add to this,
that, as there is much of the spirit of the world in their hearts, so
there is much conformity to the world in their lives. They ought to be
both burning and shining lights; but they neither burn nor shine. They
are not true to the rules they profess to observe; they are not holy
in all manner of conversation. Nay, many of them are salt that has
lost its savour, the little savour they once had. Wherewith then shall
the rest of the land be seasoned? What wonder, that their neighbours
are as unholy as ever?
“But what can we do to remedy this? I wish you would give an attentive
reading to the minutes of the last conference, and see if it will not
be worth our while to enforce them with all our might. We have weight
enough, and can enforce them. I know not who can and will when we are
gone. Let us now fix things on as firm a foundation as possible, and
not depend upon seeing another conference.
“Richard Bourke, John Dillon, and one or two more in this kingdom, are
truly devoted men; and so are a few of the preachers in England. _Si
sic omnes!_ What would be able to stand before them?
“How go you on in London? How is Mr. Whitefield, and my lady, and Mr.
Madan, and Romaine, and Berridge? Do you converse with those that are
most alive, and sparingly and warily with them that are dead while
they live?
“I hope Sally and your young ones are well. Oh what a work it is to
train up children for heaven! Peace be with you and yours! Ερρωσο!
“JOHN WESLEY.”[702]
This is far from being a bright and cheering letter; but there can be
little doubt of its being true. Wesley was always manly enough to look
even the darkest facts fairly in the face. He had no notion of crying
“Peace, Peace!” when it was salutary to sound the trumpet of alarm.
Neither the Methodists nor their preachers, in his judgment, were so
pious as they once had been, and as they ought to be; and to this,—not
to the want of talent, or of learning, or of chapels, or of money, or
of patronage,—but to this, he attributed the want of such success as
they ought to have.
Let modern Methodists learn a lesson here. Notwithstanding all their
financial and outward prosperity, without holiness they will fail
in converting sinners; and, without this success, all the rest is
frivolous.
An extract from another letter, written whilst in Ireland, may be
inserted here. It was addressed to Lady Maxwell, who was out of health,
and gives us a glimpse of Wesley’s carriage, his wife, and some of his
Newcastle friends.
“CORK, _June 4, 1767_.
“MY DEAR LADY,—My belief is, that a journey to England might be of
great service to your health; and it is not improbable, you might
receive much benefit from the water of the Hotwells near Bristol.
In August, I hope to be at Bristol; and again in the latter end of
September. My chaise and horses are at Bristol, which, you would
oblige me much, if you would please to use as your own during your
stay there; for you should, if possible, ride out daily. My wife, who
is at Newcastle, will be exceeding glad to wait upon you there; and,
if you choose to rest a few days, I should be happy if you would make
use of the Orphan House. You would be pleased with the Miss Dales, and
they with you. You and they have drank into one Spirit. Miss Peggy is
one of the holiest young women that I have any knowledge of. You will
be so kind as to let me know when you expect to be at Newcastle, and,
possibly, I may meet you there.
“I am, my dear lady, your most affectionate friend,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[703]
Another letter deserves attention; for, though it does not contradict,
yet, to some extent, it qualifies the letter to his brother, which has
just been given. It also concerns the Edinburgh society, of which Lady
Maxwell was a member, and animadverts on the behaviour of one of the
ministers of her friend, Lady Glenorchy.
The Rev. Joseph Townsend, fellow of Clare hall, Cambridge, and rector
of Pewsey, in Wiltshire, had been sent, by the Countess of Huntingdon,
to Scotland, and, for a time, had preached, alternately with Wesley’s
preachers, in Lady Glenorchy’s chapel, Edinburgh.[704] He had now
removed to Pewsey, where Wesley addressed to him the following.
“EDINBURGH, _August, 1767_.
“DEAR SIR,—When I saw you here some years since, I could not but
admire you; such was your simplicity and godly sincerity. You knew
the poor little flock, though a proverb of reproach, were a living
people of God. You knew their preachers were messengers of Christ;
and you espoused their cause in the face of the sun. You returned to
London. You conversed with Mr. Madan and others, most of whom owe
the Methodists their own souls also. You came to Edinburgh again.
But you _did not know_ the Methodists, unless one or two honourable
ones. You had _no fellowship_ with them; you neither joined with them
in public, nor strengthened their hands in private. You stood aloof
from them, as though they would have infected you. Nay, you preached
just by them, at the very hour of their preaching. You lessened their
congregations; you threw many of the society into vain reasonings; you
opened many mouths against them; you exceedingly grieved the spirit
of the preachers, and caused their hands to hang down. Was this well
done? Was it of a piece with your former conduct? Did it do any honour
to the gospel? Did it do any real good? Did it cherish any Christian
temper in Mr. Walker or Dr. Erskine? Was it a proof of love to _me_?
Was it a means of increasing the knowledge or love of God in your own
soul? Alas, my brother! I know you would do well; but, surely, herein
you have mistaken your way.
“Do you say, ‘Nay, but I have acted right; for the Methodist people
are a fallen people, and the preachers preach only dry morality.
They are in grievous error, denying election, perseverance, and the
righteousness of Christ. Therefore, their work is at an end, and the
work of God, which is now wrought, is wrought by the awakened clergy.
If I had preached in their chapels, I should thereby have abetted all
their errors.’
“This is home to the point. Convince me of this, and I have done with
the Methodists, and with preaching. But is it the true state of the
case? Let us consider it, point by point.
“1. Are the Methodists a _fallen people_? Blessed be God, they are
not: there never were more, there never were so many of them, either
in England, Scotland, or Ireland, standing fast in loving, holy faith,
as at this day.
“2. ‘But the preachers preach only dry morality.’ With what ears must
_they_ hear who think so? With the same as the honest predestinarian
at Witney, who, when I had been enforcing Galatians vi. 14 (and indeed
with uncommon freedom of spirit), said, ‘It was a pretty _moral_
discourse.’ My brother, distrust yourself; you may possibly mistake. I
think we likewise have the Spirit of God. I think even I, to speak as
a fool, can judge a little of preaching the gospel, perhaps as well as
either Mr. Madan or Romaine.
“3. ‘But they deny election and perseverance, and the righteousness
of Christ.’ They are not Calvinists; but they no more deny the
righteousness of Christ than they do the Godhead of Christ. Let this
never be said more; it is a shameless slander. They deny only the vile
abuse of that precious truth.
“4. ‘But they teach perfection.’ They do exhort believers to _go on
unto perfection_; and so do you, if you speak as the oracles of God.
“5. ‘Their work is at an end.’ Far from it; sinners are still
convinced and converted throughout the land.
“6. ‘The work of God is now wrought by the clergy.’ The more the
better; but where, and by whom? How many has any one of them convinced
or converted since Whitsuntide? I fear, when we come to particulars,
there will be small room to boast. If you put things on this issue,
‘Whose word does God now bless?’ the matter will soon be determined.
“7. ‘My preaching in your chapel would have been in effect to tell the
people of Edinburgh, that the Methodists did not deny the Calvinist
doctrines.’ Amazing! Did Mr. Gillies tell them so, when he preached
in our house? Just the contrary. He told them: ‘In some opinions, _I
do not agree_ with the Methodists; but I know they are a people of
God: therefore, I wish them good luck in the name of the Lord.’ Might
not you have done the very same? May you not still? Can you be clear
before God without doing it?
“I have now told you all that lay upon my mind. If you can receive
it, I shall rejoice, for your sake, and for the people’s. If not, I
have delivered my own soul. For many years, I have been labouring
for peace, though I have had little thanks for my pains. However, my
record is above, and my reward with the Most High. It is but a little
while that I have to endure the contradiction either of sinners or
good men. May God enable you, that stand up in my stead, to labour
more successfully! So prays, dear sir, your affectionate brother and
servant,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[705]
We left Wesley in Ireland. On July 29, he embarked, at Donaghadee,
for Scotland; and, on August 6, reached Newcastle, having preached
at Glasgow, Edinburgh, and Dunbar, as he proceeded. He spent nearly
a week at Newcastle and in its neighbourhood, preaching, among other
places, in Mr. Goodday’s church, in Sunderland, and making arrangements
with Mr. Lewen, of Durham, for the payment of his daughter’s legacies.
One entry in his Journal, while at Newcastle, is memorable, and worth
pondering by all the Methodists and missionary societies of the present
day.
“Saturday, August 8.—At the request of Mr. Whitaker, of New England, I
preached, and afterwards made a collection for the Indian schools in
America. A large sum of money is now collected; but will money convert
heathens? Find preachers of David Brainerd’s spirit, and nothing can
stand before them; but without this, what will gold or silver do? No
more than lead or iron. They have indeed sent thousands to hell; but
never yet brought a soul to heaven.”
Wesley was right. It is doubtless a cause of joyous thanksgiving, that
the incomes of missionary societies have grown to so high a figure;
but money without men is worthless. Half-a-dozen men of the same stamp
as Brainerd, Hunt, and others who might be mentioned, would be of
infinitely greater value than all the money raised, in a single year,
by all the missionary associations of the present somewhat boastful
generation. Men like these, however, cannot be procured by money, nor
be made by professors; they are the gift of God; and, to get them, the
church must pray for them.
It has generally been stated, that the first Methodist missionary
collection was made at the conference in Leeds, in 1769; but this is
obviously incorrect. The first collection of the kind was made, by
Wesley himself, at Newcastle, on Saturday, the 8th of August, 1767;
but was made with some misgiving. Wesley evidently had more faith in
the gospel plan of missionaries going forth, at the hazard of their
lives, without purse and without scrip, than he had in making large
collections to furnish them with both. And, perhaps, he was not so
far from being right as some imagine. At all events, it was thus the
first Christian missionaries began their work; and, though no one can
exonerate the church from her present missionary givings, all will
admit, that missionaries’ going out as the first missionaries went,
and as George Piercy went to China in modern times, would place them
beyond the reach of mean, mercenary suspicion. Let the young men of the
Christian church become filled with zeal for God, love for souls, and
faith in the power of prayer, as Wesley was, and they will refrain from
hastily condemning an idea which Wesley seemed to have. The best agents
the church has ever had have been profoundly religious volunteers,
rushing to the work, not because they wished or hoped for riches and
for rank, but because of an inward impulse which they felt to be
irresistible, and which made them willing to endure not only hunger,
cold, and privation, but even death itself, for the sake of the Saviour
whom they rejoiced to serve.
It is a curious coincidence that, in the very year when Wesley made the
first Methodist missionary collection, the first Methodist missionary
place of worship was opened in New York. “They write,” says _Lloyd’s
Evening Post_, of September 11, 1767,—“They write from New York,
that a large chapel has lately been built there for a congregation
of Methodists, who already exceed two thousand persons.” The “large
chapel,” somewhat erroneously said to have been _built for the
Methodists_, was “a rigging house,” sixty feet in length, and eighteen
in breadth, which was taken by Philip Embury, Captain Webb, and their
Methodist companions, for Methodist services. Embury, Barbara Heck, and
other Palatine Methodists from Ireland, had begun to hold meetings;
Captain Webb became their regimental preacher; a large congregation was
gathered; a society was formed; and the result was the opening of the
_sail loft_, which the London newspaper describes as “a large chapel.”
But more about this anon.
On the 12th of August, Wesley took coach at Newcastle, and in two days
arrived in London, for the purpose of holding his annual conference. He
writes: “Tuesday, August 18.— I met in conference with our assistants
and a select number of preachers. To these were added, on Thursday
and Friday, Mr. Whitefield, Howel Harris, and many stewards and local
preachers. Love and harmony reigned from the beginning to the end: but
we have all need of more love and holiness; and, in order thereto, of
crying continually, ‘Lord, increase our faith!’”
As this was the first year in which a complete list of the numbers
in society was given, we subjoin the statement as it stands. By this
means, the reader will learn the names of all the Methodist circuits
then in existence, except the Irish ones, and will see the relative
proportions of each.
London 2250
Sussex 176
Kent 147
Colchester 145
Norwich 293
Bedford 208
Oxfordshire 142
Wilts 840
Bristol 1064
Devon 413
Cornwall East 558
Cornwall West 1602
Staffordshire 906
Cheshire 525
Lancashire 1875
Derbyshire 741
Sheffield 591
Epworth 769
Grimsby 693
Leeds 1120
Birstal 1491
Haworth 1366
York 1000
Yarm 825
The Dales 833
Newcastle 1837
Glasgow 64
Dunbar 40
Edinburgh 150
Dundee 40
Aberdeen 174
Wales 232
Ireland 2801
——————
Total 25,911
——————
These are curious statistics. In nine instances, circuits are counties.
London has the largest number of members, and Newcastle stands next
to London. Bristol, one of the largest towns in the kingdom, and the
oldest of Methodist stations, only ranks eighth in point of numbers.
Six of the circuits are in Yorkshire; and in these were found a fourth
part of all the Methodists in England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales.
A good beginning is a good thing. In 1767 one seventh of the Methodist
circuits in the United Kingdom, and nearly one fourth of the members,
were in Yorkshire. In 1870, the proportions are scarcely different,
namely, circuits a fraction over one eighth, and members nearly one
fifth. The exact figures are as follows.
1767. 1870.
Total number of Circuits 41 701
Yorkshire Circuits 6 88
Total number of Members 25,911 368,434
Yorkshire Members 6,393 71,443
These Yorkshire statistics, however, for 1870, are those of the parent
connexion _only_. The Methodist offshoots, in that large county, are,
_relatively_ speaking, quite as numerous as the original body; and, if
their statistics be added to the above, it will be found that, from the
beginning, Yorkshire has been the stronghold of English Methodism; and
that, at the present day, it is probably more so than it was even a
century ago.
There is another point which deserves attention. Methodism, in 1767,
had existed eight-and-twenty years, and the result was the formation of
forty-one circuits; the employment of 104 itinerants; and the gathering
of 25,911 members of society. Considering the difficulties that had to
be encountered, these are gigantic facts; but, in modern times, they
have been surpassed. In 1810, what is miscalled “Primitive Methodism”
was begun, in Staffordshire, by a few poor, uneducated, working
men—William Clowes, James Crawfoot, Hugh Bourne, and his brother James.
They also had difficulties, and persecutions neither few nor trivial;
and yet, not merely in twenty-eight years, but in less than half
that time, their labours, privations, and sufferings had resulted in
greater statistics than those which Wesley had to publish in 1767. The
following are the figures.
Circuits. Itinerant Members.
Preachers.
Wesley’s conference in 1767,
twenty-eight years after
Methodism was founded 41 104 25,911
Clowes’s conference in 1823,
only thirteen years after he
began his labours[706] 45 202 29,472
The conference of 1767, in several respects, deserves remark. 1.
Besides the itinerant preachers, there were present “many stewards
and local preachers,” showing that Wesley was wise enough to avail
himself of the counsels of laymen, as well as of those who were wholly
devoted to the ministerial work. 2. Whitefield and Howel Harris were
also present, showing the harmony that existed among the leaders of the
three sections into which Methodism had been divided,—the Wesleys at
the head of the largest body, Whitefield the chief of the Countess of
Huntingdon’s connexion, and Howel Harris the prince of the Calvinistic
Methodists in Wales. 3. It was at this conference, that Francis Asbury,
afterwards the renowned Methodist bishop in the United States, was
received on trial. 4. It was decided that, in future, there should be
a general fast in all the societies once a quarter. 5. Steps were to
be taken to put an end to smuggling. 6. As many circuits had sustained
serious loss by the absence of preachers during the conference, it
was resolved that, henceforth, it should be a rule, that not all the
preachers in any circuit should come to conference; that those who did
come should set out as late, and return as soon, as possible; and that
none of those left in the circuits should go out of them while the
conference lasted.
It was Wesley’s intention to have it determined whether all
the preachers or none should continually insist upon Christian
perfection;[707] but, if this matter was discussed, the result is not
recorded. Still practical religion and relative duties were the subject
of conversation; and Wesley concludes his minutes with a sentence which
all Methodist preachers to the end of time will do well to bear in
mind: “Let us all be men of _one business_. We live only for this, to
save our own souls, and them that hear us.”
It has been previously stated, that the debt upon the Methodist
meeting-houses throughout the kingdom was £11,383. The sum sounds
small in modern days, when, in some instances, there has been more
than that upon a single chapel; but, to Wesley, it was a burden heavy
to be borne. He was no friend to chapel debts, and wished to be rid
of them entirely. He asks his conference,—“Can we make a push toward
paying the whole debt?” Answer. “I will state the case in writing, to
the most substantial men of our society.” According to Myles, there
were, at this period, eighty-four chapels in England, one in Wales, two
in Scotland, and thirteen in Ireland,—a total of exactly one hundred,
which, when used as a divisor, gives an average of £113 debt upon each
chapel of the connexion.
Wesley was determined to be freed from this encumbrance. For this
purpose, he had instituted the yearly collection; but, hitherto, it had
not been adequate. He now adopted a scheme, proposed to him, soon after
the conference of 1767, by a friend who wrote as follows:—
“I suppose the societies in Great Britain and Ireland contain 24,000
members: one fourth part of these, if they subscribe according to the
following scheme, will discharge the whole debt in two years.
1000 Subscribers at two Guineas in two years £4,200
1000 ” at one and a half Guineas ” 3,150
1000 ” at one Guinea ” 2,100
1000 ” at three quarters ” 1,575
1000 ” at half ” 1,050
1000 ” at a quarter ” 525
——————
In all £12,600
——————
“This may be paid either yearly, quarterly, or in any such manner as
the subscribers please. The grand objection is, there are not so many
persons in our societies who are able to contribute so much. Perhaps
so. But are there not some who are both able and willing to contribute
more? Are there none who clear several hundreds a year? or who are two
or three thousand beforehand? And will none of these give ten, twenty,
perhaps fifty guineas, in such a case as this? a case of so general
concern, and that can occur but once in their lives? By this method,
the poor will be quite excused, unless any of them choose to throw in
their mite.”
The circular, from which the above is extracted, was widely circulated,
and was often accompanied by a short letter, in Wesley’s own
handwriting, like the following:—
“I think you love me, and the cause wherein I am engaged. You wish
to ease me of any burden you can. You sincerely desire the salvation
of souls and the prosperity of the work of God. Will you not then
exert yourself on such an occasion as this? Surely you will not be
straitened in your own bowels. Do according as God has prospered you;
and do it willingly, not of necessity, knowing God loveth a cheerful
giver.”[708]