“The outcry daily increasing, that we might show what ground
there was for it, we proposed to our friends or opponents, as
we had opportunity, these or the like questions:—
“I. Whether it does not concern all men of all conditions to
imitate Him, as much as they can, ‘Who went about doing good’?
“Whether all Christians are not concerned in that command,
‘While we have time, let us do good unto all men’?
“Whether we shall not be more happy hereafter, the more good we
do now?
“Whether we can be happy at all hereafter, unless we have,
according to our power, ‘fed the hungry, clothed the naked,
visited those that are sick, and in prison;’ and made all these
actions subservient to a higher purpose, even the saving of
souls from death?
“Whether it be not our bounden duty always to remember, that
He did more for us than we can do for Him, who assures us,
‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my
brethren, ye have done it unto Me’?
“II. Whether, upon these considerations, we may not try to do
good to our acquaintance? Particularly, whether we may not try
to convince them of the necessity of being Christians?
“Whether of the consequent necessity of being scholars?
“Whether of the necessity of method and industry, in order to
either learning or virtue?
“Whether we may not try to persuade them to confirm and
increase their industry, by communicating as often as they can?
“Whether we may not mention to them the authors whom we
conceive to have wrote the best on those subjects?
“Whether we may not assist them, as we are able, from time to
time, to form resolutions upon what they read in those authors,
and to execute them with steadiness and perseverance?
“III. Whether, upon the considerations above-mentioned, we may
not try to do good to those that are hungry, naked, or sick? In
particular, whether, if we know any necessitous family, we may
not give them a little food, clothes, or physic, as they want?
“Whether we may not give them, if they can read, a Bible,
Common Prayer Book, or ‘Whole Duty of Man’?
“Whether, we may not, now and then, inquire how they have used
them, explain what they do not understand, and enforce what
they do?
“Whether we may not enforce upon them, more especially, the
necessity of private prayer, and of frequenting the church and
sacrament?
“Whether we may not contribute, what little we are able, toward
having their children clothed and taught to read?
“Whether we may not take care that they be taught their
catechism, and short prayers for morning and evening?
“IV. Lastly: whether, upon the considerations above-mentioned,
we may not try to do good to those that are in prison? In
particular, whether we may not release such well-disposed
persons as remain in prison for small sums?
“Whether we may not lend smaller sums to those that are of any
trade, that they may procure themselves tools and materials to
work with?
“Whether we may not give to them who appear to want it most, a
little money, or clothes, or physic?
“Whether we may not supply as many as are serious enough to
read, with a Bible and a Whole Duty of Man?
“Whether we may not, as we have opportunity, explain and
enforce these upon them, especially with respect to public and
private prayer, and the blessed sacrament?”[7]
Such, at the end of 1730, was the plan of benevolent action drawn up by
the Oxford Methodists. Who can find fault with it? Wesley tells us, that
they met with none who answered these questions in the negative, and that
several helped them with quarterly subscriptions.[8]
Thus encouraged, the two Wesleys, Kirkham, and Morgan, cheerily pursued
their way, “in spite of the ridicule which increased fast upon them
during the winter.” The men of wit, in Christ Church, called them
Sacramentarians. Their allies, at Merton, styled them The Holy Club.
Others stigmatized them as The Godly Club; and others the Enthusiasts,
or the Reforming Club; but ridicule, though far from pleasant, failed to
check them in their laborious career.
In the summer of 1731, Mr. Morgan was disabled, by an attack of sickness,
and retired to Holt; but under the date of June 11th, Wesley writes:—
“The poor at the Castle, however, have still the Gospel
preached to them, and some of their temporal wants supplied,
our little fund rather increasing than diminishing. Nor have
we yet been forced to discharge any of the children which Mr.
Morgan left to our care: though I wish they too do not find the
want of him; I am sure some of their parents will.”[9]
Mr. Morgan’s affliction excited great interest in the Wesley family.
Matthew Wesley, an eminent physician in London, was on a visit to
his brother Samuel, the Rector of Epworth, and from thence went to
Scarborough. In a letter to her son John, dated, “Epworth, July 12,
1731,” Susannah Wesley wrote:—
“Before your uncle went to Scarborough, I informed him of what
I knew of Mr. Morgan’s case. When he came back, he told me he
had tried the spa at Scarborough, and could assure me that it
far exceeded all the other spas in Europe, for he had been at
them all, both in Germany and elsewhere; that, at Scarborough,
there were two springs, as he was informed, close together,
which flowed into one basin, the one a chalybeate, the other a
purgative water; and he did not believe there was the like in
any other part of the world. He said, ‘If that gentleman, you
told me of, could by any means be got thither, though his age
is the most dangerous time in life for his distemper, yet I am
of opinion those waters would cure him.’ I thought good to tell
you this, that you might, if you please, inform Mr. Morgan of
it.”
Poor Morgan’s work was ended.
“For more than twelve months,” writes Mr. Moore, “he was so
greatly reduced, that he became a burden to himself, and
totally useless to others. In this stage of his disease, his
understanding sometimes appeared deranged; he became more
changeable in his temper than usual, and inconsistent in his
conversation. But this was purely the effect of his disease;
not the least symptom of the kind having ever appeared till
long after his health had declined.”
In the month of March, 1732, his father informed him that he should no
longer be limited to a fixed allowance, but should have all the money
that was necessary for his state of health; at the same time, however,
strongly insisting that no part of his remittances should be spent in
charity; and adding,—
“You cannot conceive what a noise that ridiculous society in
which you are engaged has made here. Besides the particulars of
the great follies of it at Oxford (which to my great concern
I have often heard repeated), it gave me sensible trouble to
hear that you were noted for going into the villages about
Holt; calling their children together, and teaching them their
prayers and catechism, and giving them a shilling at your
departure. I could not but advise with a wise, pious, and
learned clergyman. He told me that he has known the worst of
consequences follow from such blind zeal; and plainly satisfied
me that it was a thorough mistake of true piety and religion.
I proposed writing to some prudent and good man at Oxford to
reason with you on these points, and to convince you that you
were in a wrong way. He said, in a generous mind, as he took
yours to be, the admonition and advice of a father would make
a deeper impression than all the exhortations of others. He
concluded, that you were young as yet, and that your judgment
was not come to its maturity; but as soon as your judgment
improved, and on the advice of a true friend, you would see
the error of your way, and think, as he does, that you may
walk uprightly and safely, without endeavouring to outdo all
the good bishops, clergy, and other pious and good men of the
present and past ages: which God Almighty give you grace and
sense to understand aright!”[10]
Thus had the young Methodists to encounter, not only the ridicule of the
outside world, but the rebuke of their own relatives and friends. The
Epworth rector encouraged them; the Dublin gentleman pronounced upon them
censure.
A month after the date of Mr. Morgan’s letter to his sick son, Samuel
Wesley, junior, paid a visit to the Oxford Methodists, and, on his return
to London, wrote a poetical epistle to his brother Charles, dated April
20, 1732. The following are some of the concluding lines:—
“One or two questions more, before I end,
That much concern a brother and a friend:—
Does John beyond his strength presume to go,
To his frail carcase literally a foe?
Lavish of health, as if in haste to die,
And shorten time to insure eternity?
Does Morgan weakly think his time misspent?
Of his best actions can he now repent?
Others, their sins with reason just deplore,
The guilt remaining when the pleasure’s o’er;
Shall he for virtue, first, himself upbraid,
Since the foundation of the world was laid?
Shall he (what most men to their sins deny)
Show pain for alms, remorse for piety?
Can he the sacred Eucharist decline?
What Clement poisons here the bread and wine?
Or does his sad disease possess him whole,
And taint alike the body and the soul?
If to renounce his graces he decree,
O that he could transfer the stroke to me!
Does earth grow fairer to his parting eye?
Is heaven less lovely, as it seems more nigh?
O, wondrous preparation this—to die!”
Two months subsequent to Samuel Wesley’s visit, poor Morgan took his
final departure from his friends at Oxford. He was sick in body and in
mind. His end was near, though he knew it not. Leaving Oxford on the 5th
of June, 1732, he proceeded to his father’s house in Dublin. Here he
spent six weeks, and again set out for Oxford. The following letter,
addressed to Wesley by his father, will tell the brief remainder of his
short history. The letter was written fifteen months after Morgan’s
untimely death; and, during this melancholy interval, his only surviving
brother had been placed under Wesley’s tuition.
“DUBLIN, _November, 1733_.
“My concern about my only son brings the misfortunes of my
other son fresh into my mind, and obliges me now to impart to
you, and only to you, what I have hitherto concealed from all
men, as far as it could be kept secret. After he had spent
about six weeks with me in Dublin, the physicians agreed that
the air at Oxford was better for his health than the Irish air.
I myself was obliged to take a journey with my Lord Primate
into his diocese, and on the same day my dear son set out on
his journey to England. He rode an easy pad, and was to make
easy stages through part of this kingdom, to see some relations
in the way, and to take shipping at Cork, from which there
is a short passage to Bristol, and from thence the journey
is not great to Oxford. He travelled twelve miles the first
day, attended by that careful servant who was with him at
Oxford. The servant observed him to act and talk lightly and
incoherently that day. He slept little or none at night; but
often cried out that the house was on fire, and used other wild
expressions. The second day he grew worse; threw his bridle
over the horse’s head, and would neither guide him himself nor
let the man guide him, but charged him to stay behind him,
saying God would be his guide. The horse turned about, went in
side roads, and then to a disused quarry filled with water,
where my poor child fell off, and had then like to be lost,
the servant not daring to do but as he bid him. The servant,
finding him deprived of all understanding and also outrageous,
by great art and management, brought him back to Dublin. Two
of our most eminent physicians and the surgeon-general were
brought to attend him. An express was sent for me, with whom I
hastened back to town. He was put in a room two pairs of stairs
high, yet he found an opportunity to run to one of the windows,
tore it down though the sashes were nailed, and was more than
half out before he could be caught. He was raging mad, and
three men were set over him to watch him. By the diction of
the physicians, he was threatened with ropes and chains, which
were produced to him, and were rattled. In his madness, he used
to say, that enthusiasm was his madness; and repeated often,
‘O religious madness.’ He said, they had ‘hindered him being
now with God,’ because they had hindered him from throwing
himself out of the window. But, in his greatest rage, he never
cursed or swore or used any profane expressions. In seven days,
God was pleased to take him to Himself; which, no doubt, the
blisterings and severities used by the physicians and surgeon
for his recovery precipitated.”
This, in all respects, is a mournful story. No useful end would be
answered by asking, whether much religion, or much unkindness, or “much
learning,” made poor Morgan mad. His father’s letter, written in March,
1732, was, to say the least, injudicious; and the treatment of the Dublin
doctors, in August following, was preposterously cruel. The man himself
was a lovely character. Gambold, who seems to have made the fifth Oxford
Methodist, observes concerning Morgan:—
“He was a young man of an excellent disposition, and took
all opportunities to make his companions in love with a good
life; to create in them a reverence for public worship; and
to tell them of their faults with a sweetness and simplicity
that disarmed the worst tempers. He delighted much in works
of charity. He kept several children at school; and when he
found beggars in the street, he would bring them into his
chambers, and talk to them. Many such things he did; and,
being acquainted with Messrs. John and Charles Wesley, he
invited them to join with him; and proposed that they should
meet frequently to encourage one another, and have some scheme
to proceed by in their daily employments. About half a year
after I got among them, Mr. Morgan died. His calm and resigned
behaviour, hardly curbing in a confident joy in God, wrought
very much upon me; though, when I had an opportunity to observe
him, he was under a lingering distemper. Some were displeased
because he did not make some direct preparation for death; but
to a man who has overcome the world, and feels God within him,
death is no new thing.”
Poor Morgan’s decease occurred in Dublin, on August 26, 1732; and no
sooner was the event known, than it was wickedly and cruelly alleged,
that his Methodist associates had killed him. Hence the following, which
Wesley addressed to Morgan’s father within two months after the former’s
death.
“OXON, _October 18, 1732_.
“On Sunday last, I was informed that my brother and I had
killed your son; that the rigorous fasting which he had imposed
upon himself, by our advice, had increased his illness and
hastened his death. Now though, considering it in itself, ‘it
is a very small thing with me to be judged by man’s judgment;’
yet as the being thought guilty of so mischievous an imprudence
might make me the less able to do the work I came into the
world for, I am obliged to clear myself of it, by observing to
you, as I have done to others, that your son left off fasting
about a year and a half since; and that it is not yet half a
year since I began to practise it.”[11]
Apart from amply refuting the slanderous charge already mentioned,
this extract from Wesley’s letter is of considerable importance, as it
clearly shows that fasting was not a part of the primary programme of the
Methodists; and that, if fasting is to be taken as a proof of religious
earnestness, Morgan, in the first instance, was the most religious
of the brotherhood. Whether Morgan was in the habit of observing
the ecclesiastical fasts when the Methodist meetings were commenced
in November, 1729, is not apparent; but it is quite clear that his
discontinuance of fasting was occasioned by his declining health. It was
about the month of May, 1731, when fasting was relinquished; and, as we
have already seen, it was then that the illness commenced which issued in
his death. Whether fasting induced that illness is a point which must be
left undecided; but, even admitting that it did, Wesley was not to blame,
for Wesley himself did not begin to fast until a year after Morgan had
laid aside the practice.
Whatever others did, Morgan’s father fully exonerated the two Wesleys;
and, though he had censured his son for what he conceived to be excessive
piety only five months before the young man’s death, that piety was now
a source of consolation. Replying to Wesley’s letter, dated October 18,
1732, Mr. Morgan writes:—
“_November 25, 1732._
“REV. SIR,—I give entire credit to everything and every fact
you relate. It was ill-judged of my poor son to take to
fasting, with regard to his health, of which I knew nothing,
or I should have advised him against it. He was inclined to
piety and virtue from his infancy. I must own I was much
concerned at the strange accounts which were spread here, of
some extraordinary practices of a religious society in which he
had engaged at Oxford, lest, through his youth and immaturity
of judgment, he might be hurried into zeal and enthusiastic
notions that would prove pernicious. But now, indeed, the piety
and holiness of life which he practised afford me some comfort
in the midst of my affliction for the loss of him, having full
assurance of his being for ever happy. The good account you are
pleased to give of your own and your friends’ conduct, in point
of duty and religious offices, and the zealous approbation
of them by the good old gentleman your father, reconcile and
recommend that method of life to me, and make me almost wish
that I were one amongst you.
“I am, with respects to your brother, sir, your most obliged
and most obedient humble servant,
“RICHARD MORGAN.”
Here the chapter on “The First of the Oxford Methodists” ought to
end; but, perhaps, this is the most fitting place for the following
correspondence respecting William Morgan’s brother; especially as it
casts further light upon the principles and mode of life of Wesley and
his friends. Chronologically it is out of order, for Richard Morgan did
not belong to the quaternion brotherhood who were first branded with
the name of “Methodists;” but, still, the ensuing letters serve as a
continuation of those already given, and, viewed in such a light, may be
acceptable.