Taking Bristol on his way, he wrote as follows to Mr. Orchard:—

“BRISTOL, _February 3, 1738_.

“WORTHY SIR,—I have been at Bristol little less than a

fortnight, waiting of an opportunity of coming to Cornwall by

water; but, the wind still continuing contrary, I intend, this

day, to set out for Exeter, on horseback. I hope, by three or

four easy stages, to reach it on Monday or Tuesday next. Here I

propose to rest, till I have the satisfaction of hearing from

my much-esteemed, though unknown patron. I expect, sir, to be

sorely fatigued, not being accustomed to travelling; and, if

you please to permit your man and horse (for I dare not presume

to ask for your chariot) to give me the meeting at Exeter, by

the time he arrives, I hope to have worn off my weariness. I

beg my humblest service may be accepted by your lady, and am,

good sir, your obliged humble servant,

“JAMES HERVEY.”

The foregoing, to Mr. Orchard, was written three days after Whitefield

embarked for Georgia, and Wesley returned to England. No sooner did

Hervey hear of his friend Wesley’s safe arrival, than he wrote him the

following loving and interesting letter:—

“STOKE ABBEY, _March 21, 1738_.

“REV. AND HONOURED SIR,—How agreeably surprising was the news,

which a letter of Mr. Chapman’s lately brought me. I am at a

loss to say, whether it was more unexpected or more grateful.

It assured me that Mr. Wesley was arrived in England; had

visited Oxon; and was coming to Bath: and shall I not hasten a

congratulatory address, to welcome the friend of my studies,

the friend of my soul, the friend of all my valuable and

eternal interests? To do it cannot be deemed impertinency;

but not to do it would justly bring upon me the imputation of

ingratitude.

“I hope, sir, your health is not impaired by your travels. I

dare say, your experience is increased, and your knowledge

enlarged; your faith strengthened, and your zeal quickened.

I do not doubt but the God whom you serve, has shown you

wonderful things in His righteousness; His Almighty wisdom

and goodness have dealt graciously with you, and wrought

marvellously by you. O! how greatly pleasing, and, perhaps, not

unprofitable would a relation of them be.

“I believe you had the pleasure of finding some of the Oxonians

grown considerably in grace. They have made haste, since

your departure, to improve their talents; and to edify their

neighbours, as though they were earnestly and resolvedly

desirous to enjoy their company in a better world.

“You cannot but have heard, and, hearing, you cannot but

rejoice at, the successful zeal of our friend Whitefield. All

London, and the whole nation ring of μεγαλια του Θεου done by

his ministry. But, alas! it will damp your rising satisfaction

to receive an account of useless, worthless Hervey’s having run

a round of sin and vanity; and, at length, weary and giddy,

being almost ready to drop into hell. Oh! it is not fit to be

mentioned; worthy of nothing but oblivion. Spare the narrative,

and cure the wretch. Send a line, and accompany it with a

prayer, to warm my frozen and benumbed soul; that, if there be

any seeds of goodness latent, any sparks of piety dormant in my

breast, they may break forth to life, and kindle into a flame.

“I am retired from the scene of action into a worthy and

wealthy gentleman’s family. Mr. Chapman will inform you, how

much he deserves your prayers, and the prayers of all who are

mighty with God and prevail.

“Dear sir, if other business,—if other charitable employments

will allow you leisure, pray favour me with a letter. To none

will it be more acceptable; by none is it more needed, than by

your most obliged humble servant,

“JAMES HERVEY.”

Hervey’s health did not improve at the beautiful residence of his friend,

Orchard. Hence, four months after his settlement at Stoke Abbey, he wrote

to his sister as follows:—

“1738. June 19. My disorder is a languor and faintness, a

feebleness and inability for action, which is increased or

lessened according to the various temperature of the weather.

I bless God Almighty! I am not deprived of my appetite for

food, neither are my bones chastened with pain; so that, many

impute all my complaints to a hippish and over-timorous turn of

mind,—to a distempered imagination, rather than a disordered

body.

“I have been about twenty or twenty-six miles into Cornwall,

and seen wondrous workmanship of the all-creating God. At

Bideford, about fourteen miles off, I am pretty well known,

and am a little esteemed. It is strange to tell, but let it be

to the glory of God’s free and undeserved goodness, though I

am worthy of shame and universal contempt, that, I find favour

almost wherever I go.”

For upwards of two years, Hervey was the cherished guest of Mr. Orchard

and his family. David and Jonathan were not warmer or more faithful

friends than these. Hence the following remarkable agreement:—

“We, the underwritten, whom God’s providence has wonderfully

brought acquainted with each other, for purposes, no doubt, of

piety and everlasting salvation, sensible how blind and corrupt

our nature is, how forward to fall into errors and iniquities,

but how backward to discern or amend them;—knowing also the

great advantage of kind and affectionate, but, at the same

time, sincere and impartial reproof and admonition;—do oblige

ourselves to watch over each other’s conduct, conversation, and

tempers; and, whenever we perceive anything amiss therein,—any

duty ill done, or not done so well as it ought,—anything

omitted which might be for our spiritual good, or practised

which will tend to our spiritual hurt,—in fine, any thing

practised or neglected, which we shall wish to have been

otherwise in a dying hour:—All this we will watch to observe,

never fail to reprove, and earnestly endeavour to correct in

each other, that so, we may have nothing to upbraid one another

with when we meet in the eternal state. We resolve to do all

this with the utmost plainness, and all honest freedom; and,

provided it be done with tenderness, with apparent good-will,

and in private, we will esteem it as the greatest kindness we

can show,—the truest interest of sincere friendship that we

can exercise, and the only way of answering the gracious ends

of Almighty wisdom in bringing us together. In witness and

confirmation of which resolution, we here subscribe our names.

“PAUL ORCHARD,

”JAMES HERVEY.”

“_November 28, 1738._”

While Hervey was thus resting, and recruiting his health, in Devonshire,

Wesley and his brother Charles became acquainted with Peter Böhler, found

peace with God, associated with the Moravians, and began to preach the

doctrine of salvation by faith only, with a fervour and earnestness,

which excited almost national attention, and brought upon them, in varied

forms, the malice of their enemies. Hervey, in his beautiful retirement,

heard of this, and wrote to Wesley as follows[155]:—

“STOKE ABBEY, _December 1, 1738_.

“MOST DEAR AND REVEREND SIR,—Whom I love and honour in the

Lord: indeed, it is not through any forgetfulness of your

favours, or unconcernedness for your welfare, that, you have

not heard from me, but through the miscarriage of my letter.

Immediately on the news of your first arrival in England, I

made haste to salute you, and wondered why your answer was so

long in coming; but wondered more when I heard you had left the

nation a second time,[156] without being so condescending as to

own me, or so kind as to vouchsafe me a single line. But, now,

sir, that, I am assured under your own hand, that, you have

escaped the perils of the sea, the perils of foreign countries,

the perils of those that oppose the truth; and, that, you,

restored in safety to your native country, are resettled at

Oxon, and both have been doing, and still are doing spiritual

and everlasting good to men,—I may truly say ‘my heart

rejoiceth, even mine.’

“O that I could give you a comfortable account of myself,

and of my zeal for God! Alas! I must confess, with shame and

sorrow, ‘my zeal has been to sit still.’ I am not strong in

body, and am lamentably weak in spirit. Sometimes, my bodily

disorders clog the willing mind, and are a grievous weight upon

its wheels. At other times, the mind is oppressed with sloth,

and thereby rendered listless and indisposed for labouring in

the Lord. Pray for me, dearest sir, and engage all my friends

to cry mightily to Heaven in my behalf, if so be, this dry rod

may bud and blossom; this barren tree may bring forth much

fruit.

“I live in the family of a worthy gentleman, who is a hearty

well-wisher to the cause of pure and undefiled religion; who

desires no greater happiness than to love the Lord Jesus Christ

in sincerity; and who would be glad of a place for himself and

household in your prayers.

“Dear sir, will you permit me to inform you what is said,

though I verily believe slanderously said, of you? It is

reported, that, the dearest friends I have in the world are

setters forth of strange doctrines, that are contrary to

Scripture, and repugnant to the Articles of our Church. This

cannot but give me uneasiness; and I should be glad to have

my fears removed by yourself. It is said, that, you inculcate

faith, without laying stress upon good works; and, that, you

endeavour to dissuade honest tradesmen from following their

occupations, and persuade them to turn preachers. Now, these

calumnies I wish you would give me power to confute, who am,

“Dear sir, your ever obliged and grateful friend,

“J. HERVEY.”

The first of these rumours was a calumny; for, while Wesley inculcated

faith, he also strenuously enforced good works. The second was not

without foundation; for Wesley himself writes:—

“Joseph Humphrey was the first lay preacher that assisted me in

England, in the year 1738.”[157]

The two Wesleys and Whitefield, full of the love of God, and with faces

beaming with peace and joy through believing in Christ Jesus, were now

about the most abused men in England. All the churches were closed

against them; and fields, streets, and village greens were their chief

preaching places. The mob treated them with violence. The clergy used the

pulpit in denouncing them. The press was employed in spreading scandalous

reports concerning them. Some of their old friends were puzzled, and

began to stand aloof from them. But, in the midst of all, they themselves

were happy; and were honoured, almost every day, in being made the

instruments of turning men from sin to holiness, and from the power of

Satan unto God.

Hervey’s health was such, that, even had he wished, he was utterly unable

to join his friends in this their bold and marvellously successful

out-door mission to the unconverted masses. While they were preaching to

assembled thousands on Hannam Mount, Kennington Common, and Blackheath,

he was being nursed, with the greatest tenderness, amid the comforts and

beauties of Stoke Abbey; and was preaching, as opportunity permitted,

and as his strength allowed, in some of the neighbouring churches, and

especially in Mr. Thompson’s, of St. Gennys, Cornwall. Though absent,

however, he was not forgotten. Whitefield, full of faith and of the Holy

Ghost, wrote to him, inquiring whether he had found the same blessings,

which he and the Wesleys had. Hervey’s answer was so beautifully

ingenuous; and, moreover, is so important as bearing upon the subject of

his conversion, that, it is given here without curtailment.

“STOKE ABBEY, _April 4, 1739_.

“DEAR MR. WHITEFIELD,—Your kind favour, dated March 6, I

received not till yesterday, not returning sooner from worthy

Mr. Thompson’s charge. O that he may not find his dear flock

gone back; but adorned in Christian knowledge, during his

absence from them!

“I thank you for the good news you sent me. Christ enable me to

praise, rejoice, and give thanks on this behalf!

“I am obliged for the searching questions you put to me. Before

I answer them, give me leave to exhort you in the words of the

Psalmist, ‘Try me, my dear and faithful friend, try me, and

seek the ground of my heart, and examine my thoughts; look well

if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way

everlasting.’

“First question, Does the Spirit of God witness with your

spirit that you are a child of God? In truth, I cannot tell.

I have sometimes a comforting hope, that I am a child, and

not an outcast; a true son, and no bastard; but whether this

persuasion cometh of Him that has called men to salvation,

I know not. Whether it be the testimony of the Holy Spirit

witnessing within me, or the whisper of a vain presumption

speaking peace where there is no peace, I am at a loss to

determine. Tell me, dear sir, by what touchstone I shall

distinguish them.

“Second question, Have you peace and joy in the Holy Ghost?

I sometimes do rejoice, and not in carnal satisfactions, but

in hope of the glory which shall be revealed. But the bright

prospect is quickly intercepted; dark clouds of fear intervene;

and sad misgivings of mind throw a damp upon the rising joy.

Sometimes I am blessed with inward peace, and possess my soul

in tranquility; but this also is like our April sun,—very

changeable and short-lived. The sweet calm is broken, and

ruffling gusts of peevishness and uneasiness discompose the

tenour of my mind. I must confess, that, I feel touches of envy

(oh that I could mingle my tears with my ink, as I write!),

motions of pride, hankering after unnecessary sensual delights;

that, I too frequently am destitute of love to my brethren,

of a compassionate long-suffering zeal for their welfare, and

cannot perceive one spark of devotion kindled in my cold heart.

For these things, my soul is, at some intervals, disquieted

within me. Such sad experiences turn my peace into pain; they

destroy my gladness, and fill me with grief.

“Third question, Are we justified by faith only? I answer,

By faith only. Works can have no share in our justification,

because there is iniquity in our holy things. They are done

after an imperfect manner, or from improper views, or sullied

with some secret self-glorying; and, therefore, cannot

recommend _themselves_, much less the _sinful doers_ of them,

to infinite purity. Nay, if God should enter into strict

and rigorous judgment, I fear our best works would deserve

punishment. And to think, that, those performances, which

deserve punishment, can merit, either in whole or in part,

in any measure or degree, an eternal reward, is surely to

misjudge the case. It seems to be as false as to fancy, that,

the addition of some dross would enhance the value, or increase

the lustre, of refined gold. Yet still I believe, that, these

works, poor and mean and imperfect as they are, are absolutely

necessary, and that there is no justification without them. A

tenant upon lease must duly and punctually pay his pepper-corn,

though it be not considered, by the payer or receiver, as of

any worth at all. So, a Christian must exercise himself in all

good works, if he would obtain salvation, though that can add

no worth to the perfect, sufficient, and alone meritorious

sacrifice of Jesus Christ. We must be as careful to maintain

good works, as if our salvation was the purchase of them alone,

and yet renounce them utterly, and rely upon the merits,

death, and intercession of our blessed Saviour, who is made

unto them that believe, not only wisdom, but righteousness,

sanctification, and redemption.

“If I am wrong, be pleased to inform me; and God Almighty give

me a child-like, unprejudiced, teachable spirit! Pray for me,

dear sir, that, my sins, which blind my understanding, may be

subdued; and that; together with a right spirit, I may have a

right judgment in all things. That text, James ii. 24, I dare

not blot out of my Bible, and I cannot put out of my mind.

Indeed, it perplexes me. It makes me unsettled and wavering.

When I think of it, I am ready (ready! nay, ought I not to be

resolved, since the Apostle has put the words into my mouth?)

to alter my reply, and say, not by faith _only_, but by works

(in conjunction with it) a man is justified. Give me leave,

henceforward, to become your pupil in this important doctrine

of Christianity, as I have long been, and ever shall be,

“Your most affectionate friend,

“J. HERVEY.”[158]

The friendship of these Oxford Methodists was most sincere and cordial;

but was not unruffled. All was not plain sailing. Breakers were a-head.

It is a well-known fact, that, early in the year 1739, Whitefield

and Wesley, being shut out of the pulpits of the Established Church,

commenced their marvellous career of out-door preaching. Astonishing

effects followed. All sorts of rumours were current. Enemies were active,

and, as already stated, even friends were staggered. In his Devonshire

retreat, Hervey was excited, and wrote to the Rev. Mr. Kinchin, of

Dummer, an immensely long letter from which the following is an extract:—

“STOKE ABBEY, _April 18, 1739_.

“DEAR MR. KINCHIN,—This day, a letter informs me, that, my

worthy and ever-esteemed Rector has hearkened to men of

unsound opinions, and is turning aside to their errors;—that,

he is inclined to throw off his gown, renounce the Church of

England, relinquish his Fellowship and living, and become

itinerant preacher. And can I see a friend, who has been kind

to me as a father, is dear to me as a brother,—can I see such a

friend run away with such erroneous and pernicious notions, and

sit silent and unconcerned? No; my affections constrain me; and

I cannot hold my peace. I love him, and, therefore, must speak.

I love him tenderly, and, therefore, must speak freely.”

Here follow twelve printed octavo pages of remonstrance. Hervey then

adds:—

“There is no man living that I more sincerely love and honour

than Mr. Wesley. His memory is most dear and deservedly

precious to me; but, yet, I must frankly own, he is liable

to mistakes,—mistakes in religion, and dangerous ones too. I

remember the time when he was fond of the mystic writers; read

one of their leading authors over and over again; and commended

what he read as the best book, next to those that were given

by inspiration. But, within the space of a few months, he saw

his error; retracted his opinions; and inveighed against them

as studiously as he ever extolled them. This I mention only to

show, that, the best designing men,—men of eminent learning

and exemplary devotions,—may be led into false apprehensions

of things. He has arguments, I do not doubt, to support his

tenets, as he had in the former case, and can manage them with

a masterly skill; but, yet, he may be deceived, though he

means only the glory of Christ. Therefore, dear sir, withhold

your assent a little, and do not too easily fall in with his

principles. At least, suspend your determination for awhile;

wait the event; and let that speak for the attempt.

“You see how moderate I am in the matter. I do not exclaim

against the gentlemen who have brought these new doctrines to

our ears. If truth and purer Christianity be on their side,

God forbid, but that I myself and every true-hearted disciple

should go over to their party! Only have a little patience;

tarry thou the issue of things; and let _excitus acta probet_.

“I wonder why they dissuade you from cleaving to the

Establishment. Why do they find fault with our excellent

Church? And why should they entice you from your parish? Sure

we are, that, the Holy Ghost made you overseer over that

little flock; but, that, He has released you from the charge

and called you to another sphere of labour, is not so evident.

There was a time when Mr. Wesley was a warm and able advocate

of the primitive institutions. I marvel, that, he is so soon

removed to another opinion. This is a fresh conviction how

variable his mind is, and, though burning with zeal for God,

yet, given to change. And, having altered so often already, why

may he not alter again, and new-mould his present sentiments as

well as his former?

“They advise you to become an itinerant preacher. But why? I

would gladly know. Is greater perfection to be attained by

wandering into the wide world, and preaching in variety of

places? Or will this way of preaching be more successful and

efficacious? I cannot bring myself to believe this.

“Etc., etc.,

“JAMES HERVEY.”

To some extent, Hervey was evidently misinformed. It is possible, it

is not unlikely, that, Wesley and Whitefield had advised their brother

Methodist, Mr. Kinchin, to become an itinerant preacher; but there is

no evidence, that, they ever wished either him or any of their friends

to leave the Established Church, or, that, they ever entertained the

idea of leaving the Church themselves. Still, there can be no doubt,

that Hervey had heard such reports as these, and was intensely anxious

on this account. Hervey refers to the diffusion of “erroneous and

pernicious notions.” These were, probably, not so much the doctrines of

justification by faith, the witness of the Spirit, and cognate truths, as

the things mentioned in the following letter, addressed to Whitefield,

three weeks after the foregoing letter was sent to Mr. Kinchin:—

“STOKE ABBEY, _May 10, 1739_.

“DEAR MR. WHITEFIELD,—I sincerely thank you for your last

letter. I can hardly bring myself to assent to your whole

account of justification by faith. This, perhaps, may proceed

from some obstinate prejudices, rather than from reasonable and

weighty scruple. However, I waive the mention of my objections,

and make the care of my own right faith give place to a concern

for the principles and practices of my dear friends.

“It is reported, and creditably reported, from Oxon, that,

several strange notions have been lately broached there, and

have gained proselytes and espousers among the most hopeful

and promising part of the University. They, who bravely stood

their ground against sin, are become an unhappy prey to error

and delusion. I hope you are not fallen from your once avowed

steadfastness to the truth as it is in Jesus, and as it is

in our excellent Church. It is whispered, indeed, that, the

seducers are practising their arts upon you, and trying to

subvert my dear Mr. Whitefield’s orthodoxy.

“In a late letter, I gave an answer to some queries you were

pleased to put to me. Now, I beg the favour of your opinions

concerning the following doctrines: ‘That, the Distinction,

Order, Degrees, even Robes and Habits of the University are

all Anti-Christian; that, nothing is taught in it, but that

learning and wisdom, which opposes the power of God; that,

whoso is born of God is also taught of God, not in any limited

sense, but, so as to make the use of natural means of no

effect; that, all human learning (however said to be sanctified

of God) entirely disqualifies us for preaching the true Gospel

of Jesus Christ; that, an Established ministry is a mere

invention of men; that, our whole Church and all its authority,

are founded on, and supported by a lie; and, that, all who

receive power of preaching from it, are in a state of slavery,

and must throw off all obedience to it, before they can enjoy

the freedom of the Gospel.

“These tenets, extravagant and pernicious as they are, have

been, I find, studiously advanced; but let them not have the

sanction of your approbation. If they will get abroad into the

world, let them go branded with your dislike and censure.

“JAMES HERVEY.”

Remembering the rumours of the day, such a letter as the above is not

surprising. Falsehoods concerning Wesley and his friends were rife. No

report was too extravagant to be believed. Unfortunately, Whitefield’s

answer to Hervey is not forthcoming; but the invalided recluse was soon

led into the way of truth. Hence, the following, also addressed to

Whitefield, pointing out the means by which Hervey had been induced to

renounce his Oxford Pharisaism, and to embrace the doctrine of salvation

by faith in Christ only. The letter is too valuable to be abridged:—

“Yes, dear sir, with pleasure, I send another letter. I rejoice

to find, that, you remember me. I am thankful, that, you

have not renounced a correspondent, made odious by so much

ingratitude.

“You are pleased to ask, How the Holy Ghost convinced me of

self-righteousness, and drove me out of my false rests? Indeed,

sir, I cannot precisely tell. The light was not instantaneous,

but gradual. It did not flash upon my soul, but arose like the

dawning day. A little book, wrote by _Jenks_, upon Submission

to the Righteousness of God, was made serviceable to me. Your

Journals, dear sir, and Sermons, especially that sweet Sermon

upon ‘What think ye of Christ?’ were a means of bringing me to

a knowledge of the truth. And another excellent piece has been,

and I hope will be, as so much precious eye-salve to my dim and

clouded understanding,—I mean ‘_Marshall’s_ Gospel Mystery of

Sanctification.’

“These,—blessed be He, who is a light to them that sit in

darkness!—have, in some degree, convinced me of my former

errors. I now begin to see, that, I have been labouring in

the fire, and wearying myself for very vanity, while I have

attempted to establish my own righteousness. I trusted I knew

not what, while I trusted in some imaginary good deeds of

my own. These are no hiding-place from the storm. They are

a refuge of lies. If I had the meekness of Moses, and the

patience of Job, the zeal of Paul, and the love of John, I

durst not advance the least plea to everlasting life on this

footing. But as for my own beggarly performances,—wretched

righteousness,—gracious, adorable Emmanuel!—I am ashamed; I

am grieved, that I should thrust them into the place of Thy

Divine, Thy inconceivable precious obedience!

“My schemes are altered. I now desire to work in my blessed

Master’s service, not _for_, but, _from_ salvation. I believe,

that, Jesus Christ, the Incarnate God, is my Saviour; that, He

has done all which I was bound to perform; and suffered all

that I was condemned to sustain; and, so, has procured a full,

final, and everlasting salvation for a poor damnable sinner. I

would now fain _serve_ Him who has _saved_ me. I would glorify

Him before _men_, who has justified me before _God_. I would

study to please Him in holiness and righteousness all the days

of my life. I seek this blessing, not as a _condition_, but,

as a _part_,—a choice and inestimable _part_ of that complete

salvation, which Jesus has purchased for me.

“Now, if at any time, I am fervent in devotion,—seem to be in

a gracious frame,—or am enabled to abound in the works of the

Lord,—I endeavour to put no confidence in these bruised reeds,

but to rest upon the Rock of Ages. Not in these, most blessed

Jesus, but in Thy robes of righteousness, let me be found, when

‘God shall call the heavens from above, and the earth, that, He

may judge His people.’

“When, on the other hand, I feel myself most deplorably dead

and deficient,—when I am apt to sigh for my unprofitableness,

and cry out with the prophet, ‘My leanness, my leanness!’ I no

longer comfort myself with saying, ‘Be of good cheer, soul, thy

God requires only _sincere_ obedience, and, perhaps, to-morrow

may be better than this day, and more abundant in acts of

holiness.’ Jesus is now become my salvation, and this is my

song in the house of my pilgrimage,—‘Why art thou cast down, O

my soul?’ Though imperfect in thyself, thou art complete in thy

Head. Though poor in thyself, thou hast unsearchable riches in

thy Divine Surety. The righteousness of Thy obedience, O Lord

Redeemer, is everlasting. O grant me an interest in this, and I

shall live.

“If overtaken by sin, or overcome by temptation, I dare not,

as formerly, call to mind my righteous deeds, and so think to

commute with Divine justice; or quit scores for my offences, by

my duties. I do not, to ease my conscience, or be reconciled

to God, promise stricter watchfulness, more alms, and renewed

fastings. No; in such unhappy circumstances, turn, O my soul!

neither to the right hand nor to the left; but fly instantly to

Him, whom God has set forth for a propitiation. Hide thyself in

His wounded side, and be safe. Wash in His streaming blood, and

be clean.

“If in these, or in other points, I am otherwise minded, than

corresponds with the gospel of truth, cease not, dear sir, to

pray, that, ‘God may reveal even this unto me.’

“But why will not my dear friend come amongst us? Why won’t

he drop his word towards the west? Many, in these parts, long

for your arrival. Many long to hear the joyful sound from your

lips. Many, I am assured, would hail my dear brother with that

acclamation, ‘How beautiful are the feet of him that bringeth

glad tidings; that bringeth glad tidings of good things!’ O

that it would please the Divine Providence to direct your way

unto us! Come, dear sir, come with the fulness of the blessings

of the gospel of peace. Come amongst living multitudes, who

will be attentive to hear you; and come, once more, into the

arms of him who dearly loves you.

“J. HERVEY.”[159]

Hervey and Whitefield were young men, both twenty-five years of age;

but they were not novices in religious knowledge. By extensive reading,

by conversation, by docility, above all, by the blessed Bible, and by

the Spirit’s teaching, they had, at this early period of their history,

arrived at theological conclusions, from which they never wavered to the

end of life. Exception may be taken to some of the expressions of Hervey

in the foregoing letter; and to the Calvinistic views of both; but they

_believed_ what they preached; and they undoubtedly thought and felt that

their doctrines were founded upon the Divine authority of the sacred

Scriptures. It is no part of the plan of the present work to defend or

to attack the doctrines taught by the men whose histories are sketched;

but simply to furnish honest information respecting their manner of

life, their teaching, their religious experience, their success, and the

termination of their toil and suffering.

In 1740, Hervey’s health was sufficiently restored to justify his

undertaking the curacy of Bideford, where he continued till about the

month of July, 1743. His congregation was large, but his stipend small,

amounting to not more than £60 a year. Here he planned and partly

executed his “Meditations among the Tombs,” and his “Reflections on a

Flower Garden.” A ride from Bideford to Kilhampton suggested the former;

and the latter were, in part, composed in the summer-house of a pleasant

garden, belonging to the family with whom he lodged. At his entrance upon

his ministry at Bideford, he wrote as follows to his friend, Mr. Orchard,

in whose hospitable mansion he had been so long a guest:—

“Your excellent proposal is not yet put into execution; we have

no evening prayers in public as yet; nay, I have not so much as

communicated the design to my rector. I am shamefully timorous:

lions, giants, and the sons of Anak are much in my thoughts.

I dream (and may it be no more than a dream, and not too real

a presage,) of difficulties, both in getting leave to attempt,

and in getting strength to perform, this spiritual service,

which I owe to my little flock. Your zeal will reproach me with

cowardice; your faith upbraid me with unbelief; but, O, let

your charity and pity pray against both. I hope ere long to

disclose the matter to Mr. Nichols.”

Another letter, written at Bideford, and addressed to Whitefield, will

be welcome. It strikingly exhibits the change in Hervey’s views and

religious character:—

“BIDEFORD, _1741_.

“DEAR MR. WHITEFIELD,—Your favour struck me with an agreeable

surprise. I verily thought my stubborn silence had razed me

from your remembrance; but, since you still have an affection

for an ungrateful friend, I take this opportunity of returning

my grateful acknowledgments.

“I rejoice to hear the Redeemer’s cause revives. Set up

Thyself, O Incarnate God! above the heavens, and diffuse Thy

glory through all the earth! Let Thy enemies perish, O Lord!

Let disappointments attend the attempts of Thy foes and the

devices of hell; but let Thy servants be prosperous, and their

message crowned with success!

“Dear sir, I cannot boast of trophies erected here by the

Captain of our salvation; but, I hope, the arm of the Lord

will be revealed more and more among us. I hope, the triumphs

of free grace will have wider spread and free course, and will

prevail mightily over our unbelief. I own, with shame and

sorrow, that, I have been too long a blind leader of the blind.

I have perverted the good ways of God, and have darkened the

glory of redeeming merit and sovereign grace. I have dared

to invade the prerogatives of an all-sufficient Saviour, and

to pluck the crown off His head. I have derogated from the

honours, the everlasting and incommunicable honours of Jesus.

I have presumed to give works a share in the redemption and

recovery of a lost sinner; and have placed those filthy rags

upon the throne of the Lamb; and, by that means, debased the

Saviour, and exalted the sinner.

“But, I trust, the Divine truth begins to dawn upon my soul.

Was I possest of all the righteous acts that have made saints

and martyrs famous in all generations,—could they all be

transferred to me, and might I call them all my own,—I would

renounce them all that I might win Christ. I would not dare to

appear before the bright and burning eye of God with such hay,

straw, and stubble. No, dear sir, I would long to be clothed in

a Mediator’s righteousness, and ascribe all my salvation to the

most unmerited and freest grace.

“Dear sir, cease not to pray for me; desist not to counsel me;

since, I perceive, you cannot forbear to love me.

“I am,” etc.,

“J. HERVEY.”

In the discharge of his ministerial duties at Bideford Hervey was

exemplary. He preached twice every Sunday; and, on Tuesdays and Fridays,

expounded part of one of the Lessons for the day; except when he examined

the children, and gave explanations of the Church’s Catechism. Like his

friends Wesley and Whitefield, he also formed a religious society, which

continued to meet above forty years. This brought upon him considerable

reproach; but, “so far from being ashamed” of what he had done, he wrote,—

“I am only ashamed of the inconsiderable assistance which I am

able to contribute to so worthy an attempt. Ashamed! no; but

if it were lawful for a Christian to glory in anything beside

the cross of Christ, this should be matter of glory and triumph

to me. Their scorns, derision, and mockery, I would bind on my

head as a beautiful crown, and be better pleased with such a

character, than with an ornament of gold about my neck.”[160]

Brave words were these! The Wesleys and Whitefield were encountering

murderous mobs in all directions; and, so far from complaining, were

“rejoicing, that, they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the name

of Jesus Christ.” The feebleness of Hervey’s body rendered it impossible

for him to undertake the rough mission work, which was so zealously

undertaken by his friends; but, the Christian heroism of his soul,

rendered him not unworthy of their brotherhood. The men, one and all,

were animated with the spirit of “the noble army of martyrs;” and, at any

moment, were prepared to die for the sake of the Lord Jesus. No wonder,

that, such men were successful, and, that, their memories are wreathed

with unfading laurels; while the names of their “enemies, persecutors,

and slanderers,” are either forgotten, or only remembered with contempt.

The Rev. Mr. Nichols, the Rector of Bideford, died early in the year

1741, only a few months after Hervey had entered upon his labours there;

and, as the Bideford living was a valuable one, there were a considerable

number of aspirants after it. On March 2, 1741, Hervey wrote to a friend

as follows:—

“You have heard, I do not doubt, that, Mr. Nichols, my rector,

is no more: who will succeed him is yet a secret. Many, I

believe, are eagerly wishing for it, as a place of considerable

profit, but few, perhaps, are solicitously considering whether

they are equal to the discharge of so difficult and important

a service. But hold, my pen: what have I to do to judge

others? Let it be all my care to approve myself faithful in my

appointed station.”

Shortly after this, Hervey was summoned home, on account of the serious

illness of his father. Hence the following:—

“WESTON, _May 30, 1741_.

“DEAR MR. W.⸺,—’Tis late, midnight drawing on, and the Sabbath

approaches; but I must snatch a few minutes to tell my dear

friend the good news. My father is made whole; quite freed from

his pains; quite cured of his disorders; and almost in a new

world. Deep, indeed, was his distress; grievous his affliction;

but now the clouds are over and gone, and the voice of joy and

health is restored to his dwelling.

“Now, therefore, I am free: I have no engagement here. My

father, it is true, offers me a curacy; but, if Mr. ⸺ chooses

it, and my dear people think it may contribute in any measure

to their spiritual benefit, nothing hinders but I may return

to Bideford: Return, and address them much in the same strain

as Peter bespoke the impotent man: ‘Eloquence and oratory,

learning and accomplishments have I none; but such as I have,

in the name of Jesus, give I you,’ ”From your affectionate

friend,

“J. HERVEY.”[161]

Hervey did return to Bideford; but, at the end of about two years, the

new rector dismissed him, against the united request of his parishioners,

who offered to maintain him at their own expense. This, to a man of

Hervey’s exquisite sensitiveness of feeling, was no trivial trial. To the

people of Bideford he was devotedly attached. He writes, while still

among them:—

“I live in the very heart of the town. O that the immortal

interests of its inhabitants may be ever on my heart! May I

covet no other prosperity, and pursue no other happiness, than

to be an instrument of doing them some spiritual good! I hope,

I shall never forget my dear people of Bideford. I shall bear

them upon my heart, when I retire into my study for reading,

when I walk solitary in the fields for exercise, and when I

bend my knees before the God and Father of our Lord Jesus

Christ.”

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