In the following paragraphs, I recited to him the things he
had done with regard to more than one, or two, or three women,
concluding thus:—
“And now you know not that you have done anything amiss! You
can eat and drink and be merry! You are every day engaged with
variety of company, and frequent the coffee houses! Alas, my
brother, what is this? How are you above measure hardened by
the deceitfulness of sin? Do you remember the story of Santon
Barsisa? I pray God, your last end may not be like his! Oh, how
you have grieved the Spirit of God! Return to Him with weeping,
fasting, and mourning. You are in the very belly of hell; only
the pit hath not shut its mouth upon you. Arise, thou sleeper,
and call upon thy God! Perhaps, He may yet be found. Because
He still bears with _me_, I cannot despair for _you_. But you
have not a moment to lose. May God, this instant, strike you to
the heart, that you may feel His wrath abiding on you, and have
no rest in your bones, by reason of your sin, till all your
iniquities are done away.”
“JOHN WESLEY.”
What success attended Wesley’s honest letter? Hall had left his wife at
the end of October, 1747. Three months afterwards, he had returned to
Salisbury; and Wesley, on his way to Bristol, resolved to call on him. He
writes:—
“_1748. January 26._
“Mr. Hall, having heard I was coming, had given strict orders,
that no one should let me in. The inner door he had locked
himself, and, I suppose, taken away the key. Yet, when I
knocked at the outer gate, which was locked also, William Sims
opened the wicket. I walked straight in. A girl stood in the
gateway, but turned as soon as she saw me. I followed close
at her heels, and went in after her at a back door. I asked
the maid, ‘Where is Mr. Hall?’ She said, ‘In the parlour,’ and
went in to him. I followed her, and found him sitting with my
sister, but he presently rose and went up-stairs. He then sent
William Sims down, and bid him, ‘Tell my brother he has no
business in my house.’ After a few minutes, I went to a house
in the town, and my sister came to me. In about an hour, she
returned home; but he sent word to the gate, she might go to
the place whence she came. I met a little company, gathered
up out of the wreck, both in the evening, and at five in the
morning, and exhorted them to go on in the Bible way, and not
to be wise above that is written.”
Having thus failed in his attempt to reason with Westley Hall, and having
tried to be of use to a mere handful of the best of the faithless man’s
followers, Wesley, two days afterwards, went on his way to Bristol.
Things grew worse and worse. Hall’s first female victim was a young
woman, employed in his house as a seamstress. Other infidelities
followed; until, at length, his much-enduring wife was driven from him.
The man became a professed polygamist. Life at home became intolerable
to “poor Patty;” and, even when she fled from the husband, who had become
a monster and a brute, again and again she and her brothers were harassed
by his following her. The following are extracts from her brother
Charles’s Journal:—
“_1750. August 13._—I met my sister Hall in the churchyard,”
(Bristol) “and carried her to the room. I had begun preaching,
when Mr. Hall walked up the room, and through the desk, and
carried her off with him. I was somewhat disturbed; yet went on.
“_August 15._—He came up again, calling me by my name. I fled,
and he pursued; but could not find me in my lurking place.
“_1751. June 4._—Instead of proceeding in Ezekiel, I expounded”
(at Bristol) “Hebrew x. 34: ‘Now the just shall live by faith;
but, if he draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.’ I
saw the reason with Mr. Hall. He came up toward the desk. Mr.
Hamilton stopped him. I gave out a hymn. He sang louder than
us all. I spoke sharply of his apostasy, and prayed earnestly
for him; desired their prayers for me, lest, after preaching to
others, I myself, also, should be a castaway. He walked away,
turned back, threatened. The people were all in tears, and
agony of prayer.”
There is something horrible in such a scene as this. Westley Hall was
“now a settled Deist;”[310] and, yet, here we find him, with stentorian
lustiness, and in mockery, singing, in the midst of a disturbed
congregation, one of Charles Wesley’s Christian hymns. The man seemed
to be abandoned by his God, and left to his own corrupted passions. He
is said to have thrown off all restraint, and all regard to decency. He
publicly and privately recommended polygamy, as conformable to nature,
preached in its defence, and practised as he preached. For years, he
lived the life of an adventurer, and a profligate; acting sometimes as a
physician, sometimes as priest, or figured away with his sword, cane, and
scarlet cloak; assuming any character, according to his humour, or the
convenience of the day.[311]
His wife had borne him ten children, nine of whom had been interred
at Salisbury. One of them,—Wesley Hall,—still survived, and was being
educated at the expense of his uncles, John and Charles. At the age of
fourteen, the worse than fatherless boy was seized with small-pox, and
died. Dr. Adam Clarke says, he had seen “a folio printed sheet, evidently
the publication of Mr. Hall;” entitled, “The Art of Happiness; or, the
Right use of Reason: an Epistle to Wesley Hall, Junior.” “The whole,”
writes the Doctor, “is a miserable Deistical address, strongly advising
his son to follow the dictates of his own nature, as the best way of
fulfilling the purposes of his Creator!”