“Now I have found the ground wherein

Firm my soul’s anchor may remain;

The wounds of Jesus, for my sin

Before the world’s foundation slain.”

And yet one of your assertions I cannot deny: namely, that you “could

run the parallel between me and numbers of fanatical papists.” And that

not only with regard to my _temper_, but my stature, complexion, yea

(if need were) the very colour of my hair.

15. In your ¹next section, you are to give an account of the “spiritual

succours and advantages received either during these trials or very

soon after.” It is no wonder you make as lame work with these, as

with the conflicts which preceded them. _As the heart knoweth its own

bitterness, so a stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy._ But it is

no business of mine, as you have not done me the honour to cite any of

my words in this section.

¹ Section 10, page 29, &c.

16. “The ¹_unsteadiness_ of the _Methodists_ both in sentiments and

practice,” is what you next undertake to prove. Your loose declamation

with which you open the cause, I pass over, as it rests on your own

bare word; and haste to your main reason, drawn from my sentiments and

practice, with regard to the _Moravians_.

¹ Section 11, page 95, &c.

“He represents them, you say, in the blackest colours; yet declares,

in the main they are some of the best people in the world. His love and

esteem for them, increases more and more. His own disciples among the

_Methodists_ go over to them in crowds. But still _Methodism_ is the

strongest barrier against the _Moravian_ doctrines and principles.”

Sir, I bear you witness, you have learnt one principle at least, from

those with whom you have lately conversed; namely, that no faith is to

be kept with hereticks; of which you have given us abundant proof. For

you know I have fully answered every article of this charge, which you

repeat, as if I had not opened my lips about it. You know, that there

is not one grain of truth, in several things which you here positively

assert. For instance, “His love and esteem of them, increases more and

more.” Not so, no more than my love and esteem for _you_. I love you

both; but I do not much esteem either. Again, “His own disciples among

the _Methodists_, go over to them in crowds.” When? Where? I know not

that ten of my disciples, as you call them, have gone over to them for

twice ten months. O Sir, consider! How do you know, but some of your

disciples may tell your name?

17. With the same veracity you go on. “In _the character of a

Methodist_, those of the sect are described as having all the virtues

that can adorn the Christian profession. But in their _journals_ you

find them waspish, condemning all the world, except themselves; and

among themselves, perpetual broils and confusions, with various other

irregularities and vices.”

I answer, 1. The tract you refer to (as is expresly declared in the

_preface_) does not describe what the _Methodists_ are already: but

what they desire to be, and what they will be then, when they fully

practise the doctrine they hear. 2. Be pleased to point the pages in

my _journals_ which mention those “various irregularities and vices.”

Of their “perpetual broils and confusions” I shall speak under their

proper head.

You add, “Sometimes they are so far from fearing death, that they wish

it. But the keenness of the edge is soon blunted. They are full of

dreadful apprehensions, that the clergy _intend to murther them_.” Do

you mean me, Sir? I plead not guilty. I never had any such apprehension.

Yet I suppose, you designed the compliment for _me_, by your dragging

in two or three broken sentences from my _first journal_. But how

little to the purpose? Seeing at the time that was written, I had never

pretended to be above the fear of death. So that this is no proof of

the point in view, of the “unsteadiness of my sentiments or practice.”

18. You proceed, “One day, they fancy it their duty to preach; the next,

they preach with great reluctance.” Very true! But they fancy it their

duty still; else they would not preach at all. This therefore does not

prove any inequality either of sentiment or practice.

“Mr. _Wesley_ is sometimes quite averse from speaking, and then

perplext with the doubt, is it a prohibition from the good Spirit? or

a temptation from nature and the evil one?”

Just of a piece with the rest. The sentence runs thus, “I went several

times with a design to speak to the sailors, but could not.” I mean, I

was quite averse from speaking. Is not this what men commonly mean by,

“I could not speak?” And is this a sufficient cause of silence, or no?

Is it a prohibition from the good Spirit? Or a temptation from nature

or the evil one? Sir, I was in no doubt at all on the occasion. Nor

did I intend to express any in these words; but to appeal to mens

conscience, whether what they call a prohibition from the good Spirit,

be not a mere temptation from nature or the evil-one?

19. In the ¹next section you are to shew, “the _art_, _cunning_, and

_sophistry_ of the _Methodists_, who, when hard prest by argument,

run themselves into inconsistency and _self-contradiction_; and

occasionally either defend or give up some of their favourite notions

and principal points.”

¹ Section 12, page 102.

I dare say, Sir, you will not put them to the trial. _Argument_ lies

out of the way of one.

――――Solutos

Qui captat risus hominem famamque dicacis.

But to the proof. “Mr. _Wesley_, you say, at one time declares for

a disinterested love of God: at another, declares, There is no one

caution in all the bible, against the selfish love of God.”

Nay, Sir, I will tell you what is stranger still. Mr. _Wesley_ holds

_at one time_, both sides of this contradiction. I now declare, both

that “all true love is disinterested, _seeketh not her own_: and that

there is no one caution in all the bible, against the selfish love of

God.”

What have I the _art_ to slip out of your hands again? “Pardon me (as

your old friend says) for being jocular.”

20. You add, (_altius insurgens_) “but it is a considerable offence

to charge another wrongfully and contradict himself about the doctrine

of assurance.” To prove this upon me, you bring my own words. “The

¹assurance we preach, is of quite another kind from that Mr. _Bedford_

writes against. We speak of an assurance of our present pardon; not, as

he does, of our final perseverance.”

¹ 3 Journal, page 9.

“Mr. _Wesley_ might have considered (you say) that when they talk

of _assurance of pardon and salvation_, the world will extend the

meaning of the words, to our eternal state.” I do consider it, Sir.

And therefore I never use that phrase either in preaching or writing.

_Assurance of pardon and salvation_ is an expression that never comes

out of my lips. And if Mr. _Whitfield_ does use it, yet he does not

_preach_ such an _assurance_, as the privilege of all Christians.

“But Mr. _Wesley_ himself says, that though a full _assurance of

faith_ doth not necessarily imply _a full assurance of our future

perseverance_,” yet “some have both the one and the other.” And now

what becomes of his charge against Mr. _Bedford_? And is it not mere

evasion to say afterwards, “This is not ♦_properly_ an assurance of

what is _future_?”

♦ “porperly” replaced with “properly”

Sir, this _argument presses_ me very _hard_! May I not be allowed a

little _evasion_ now? Come, for once I will try to do without it, and

to answer flat and plain.

And I answer, 1. That _faith_ is one thing; the _full assurance of

faith_ another: 2. That even the _full assurance of faith_, does not

imply the _full assurance of perseverance_. This bears another name;

being stiled by St. _Paul_, _the full assurance of hope_. 3. Some

Christians have only the first of these. They have faith: but mixt

with doubts and fears. Some have also _the full assurance of faith_;

a full conviction of _present pardon_: and yet not the _full assurance

of hope_; not a full conviction of their _future perseverance_. 4. The

faith which we preach, as necessary to all Christians, is the first

of these, and no other. Therefore, 5. It is no evasion at all to say,

“This (the faith which we preach as necessary to all Christians) is not

_properly_ an assurance of what is future.” And consequently, my charge

against Mr. _Bedford_ stands good, “That his sermon on _assurance_, is

an _♦ignoratio elenchi_ (an ignorance of the point in question) from

beginning to end.” Therefore neither do I “charge another _wrongfully_,

nor _contradict myself_, about the doctrine of assurances.”

♦ “ingoratio” replaced with “ignoratio” per Errata

21. To prove my _art_, _cunning_ and _evasion_, you instance next

in the case of _impulses, and impressions_. You begin “With what

pertinacious confidence, have _impulses_, _impressions_, _feelings_,

&c. been advanced into _certain rules_ of conduct? Their followers

have been taught to depend upon them, as sure guides and _infallible

proofs_.”

To support this weighty charge, you bring one single scrap, about a

line and a quarter from one of my _journals_. The words are these.

“By the most _infallible of proofs, inward feeling_, I am convinced.”

Convinced of what? It immediately follows, “Of unbelief, having no such

faith as will prevent my heart from being troubled.”

I here assert, that _inward feeling_ or consciousness, is the _most

infallible of proofs_, of unbelief, of the want of such a faith,

as will prevent the heart’s being troubled. But do I here “advance

impressions, impulses, feelings, &c. into _certain rules_ of conduct?”

Or any where else? You may just as well say, I advance them into

certain proofs of transubstantiation.

Neither in writing, nor in private conversation, have I ever “taught

any of my followers, to depend upon them as sure guides or infallible

proofs” of any thing.

Nay, you yourself own, I have taught quite the reverse: and that at

my very first setting out. Then as well as ever since, I have told the

societies, “They were not to judge by their own _inward feelings_. I

warned them, all these were in themselves of a doubtful, disputable

nature. They might be from God, or they might not, and were therefore

to be tried by a farther rule, to be brought to the only certain test,

the law and the testimony”.¹

¹ 3 Journal, pages 60, 61.

This is what I have taught from first to last. And now, Sir, what

becomes of your heavy charge? On which side lies the “pertinacious

confidence” now? How clearly have you made out, my _inconsistency_ and

_self-contradiction_? And that I “occasionally either defend or give

up, my favourite notions and principal points?”

22. “¹_Inspiration and the extraordinary calls and guidances of the

Holy Ghost_, are what you next affirm to be _given up_.” Not by me.

I do not _give up_ one tittle on this head, which I ever maintained.

But observe. Before you attempt to prove my _giving them up_, you

are to prove, that I laid claim to them: that I laid claim to some

_extraordinary_ inspiration, call, or guidance of the Holy Ghost.

¹ Section 13, page 106, &c.

You say, “My _concessions_ on this head (to Mr. _Church_) are

_ambiguous_ and _evasive_.” Sir, you mistake the fact. I make no

concessions at all, either to him or you. I give up nothing that ever

I advanced on this head. But when Mr. _Church_ charged me with what

I did not advance, I replied, “I claim no other _direction of God’s_,

but what is common to all believers.” I pretend to be no otherwise

_inspired_, than you are, if you love God. Where is the _ambiguity_ or

_evasion_ in this? I meant it for a flat denial of the charge.

23. ¹Your next section, _Spirat tragicum satis_, charges the

_Methodists_; “with _scepticism and infidelity_, with doubts and

denials of the truth of revelation, and atheism itself.” The passages

brought from my _journals_ to prove this charge, which you have

prudently transposed, I beg leave to consider in the same order, as

they stand there.

¹ Section 14, page 110, &c. 1 Journal, page 14.

The first, you preface thus: “Upon the people’s _ill usage_ (or

_supposed_ ill usage) of Mr. _Wesley_ in _Georgia_, and their speaking

of all manner of evil, _falsely_ (as he says) against him; and

trampling under foot the word, after having been very attentive to

it: what an emotion in him is hereby raised? ‘I do hereby bear witness

against myself, that _I could scarce refrain from giving the lie to

experience and reason and scripture all together_.’”

The passage, as I wrote it, stands thus: “_Sunday, March 7._ I entered

upon my ministry at _Savannah_. In the second lesson, _Luke 18._

was our Lord’s prediction of the treatment which he himself, and

consequently his followers, were to meet with from the world.”

“Yet notwithstanding these plain declarations of our Lord,

notwithstanding my own repeated experience, notwithstanding the

experience of all the sincere followers of Christ, whom I ever talked

with, read or heard of, nay and the reason of the thing, evincing to

a demonstration, that all who love not the light, must hate him who is

continually labouring to pour it in upon them: I do here bear witness

against myself, that when I saw the number of people crowding into

the church, the deep attention with which they received the word, and

the seriousness that afterwards sat on all their faces: I could scarce

refrain from giving the lie to experience, and reason, and scripture,

all together. I could hardly believe, that the greater, the far

greater part of this attentive, serious people, would hereafter trample

underfoot that word, and say all manner of evil falsely of him that

spoke it.”

Sir, does this prove me guilty of _scepticism_ or _infidelity_?

Of _doubting_ or _denying_ the _truth of revelation_? Did I speak

this, “upon the peoples _using_ me _ill_, and saying _all manner of

evil_ against me”? Or am I here describing any _emotion, raised in

me hereby_? Blush, blush, Sir, if you _can_ blush. You had here no

possible room for mistake. You grosly and wilfully falsify the whole

passage, to support a groundless, shameless accusation.

¹24. The second passage (written _January 24, 1737‒8_,) is this. “In a

storm I think, What if the gospel be not true? Then thou art of all men

most foolish. For what hast thou given thy goods, thy ease, thy friends,

thy reputation, thy country, thy life? For what art thou wandering over

the face of the earth? A dream? A cunningly devised fable?”

¹ 1 Journal, page 67.

I am here describing the thoughts which past through my mind, when I

was confessedly an unbeliever. But even this implies no _scepticism_,

much less _atheism_; no _denial of the truth of revelation_: but barely

such transient doubts as I presume may assault any thinking man that

knows not God.

The third ¹passage, (which you tack to the former, as if they were

one and the same) runs thus. “I have not such a peace as excludes the

possibility either of doubt or fear. When holy men have told me, I had

no faith, I have often doubted whether I had or no? And those doubts

have made me very uneasy, till I was relieved by prayer and the holy

scriptures.”

¹ 3 Journal, page 12.

Speak frankly, Sir, does this prove me guilty of _scepticism_,

_infidelity_ or _atheism_? What else does it prove? Just nothing at

all, but the “pertinacious confidence” of him that cites it.

25. You recite more at large one passage more. The whole paragraph

stands thus.

¹“St. _Paul_ tells us, _the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace,

long-suffering, gentleness, meekness, temperance_. Now although by the

grace of God in Christ, I find a measure of some of these in myself,

_viz._ of peace, long-suffering, gentleness, meekness, temperance;

yet others I find not. I cannot find in myself the love of God or of

Christ. Hence my deadness and wanderings in public prayer. Hence it

is, that even in the holy communion, I have rarely any more than a cold

attention. Hence when I hear of the highest instance of God’s love, my

heart is still senseless and unaffected. Yea, at this moment (_October

14, 1738_,) I feel no more love to him, than one I had never heard of.”

¹ 3 Journal, pages 11, 12.

To any who knew something of inward religion I should have observed,

that this is what serious divines mean by _desertion_. But all

expressions of this kind are jargon to you. So allowing it to be

whatever you please, I ask only, do you know how long I continued in

this state? How many years, months, weeks or days? If not, how can

you infer, what my state of mind is now, from what it was above eleven

years ago?

Sir, I do not tell you, or any man else, that “I cannot _now_ find the

love of God in myself:” or that _now_, in the year 1751, “I rarely feel

more than a cold attention in the holy communion.” So that your whole

argument, built on this supposition, falls to the ground at once.

26. Sensible, I presume, of the weakness of this _reason_, you

immediately apply to the _passions_, by that artful remark, “Observe,

reader, this is the man, who charges _our religion_, as no better than

the _Turkish pilgrimages to Mecca_, or the _Popish worship of our Lady

of Loretto_!” _Our religion!_ How naturally will the reader suppose,

that I fix the charge either on the _Protestant religion_ in general,

or on that of the _church of England_ in particular? But how far is

this from the truth?

My words concerning those who are commonly called religious, are,

¹“Wherein does their religion consist? In righteousness and true

holiness? In love stronger than death? Fervent gratitude to God, and

tender affection to all his creatures? Is their religion the religion

of the heart? A renewal of the soul in the image of God? Do they

resemble him they worship? Are they free from pride, from vanity,

from malice, from envy? From ambition and avarice, from passion and

lust, from every uneasy and unlovely temper? Alas! I fear neither

they (the greater part at least) nor you have any more notion of this

religion, than the peasant that holds the plow, of the religion of a

_Gymnosophist_.”

¹ Farther Appeal, third Part, page 82.

“’Tis well if the _genuine religion_ of Christ, has any more alliance

with what _you call religion_, than with the _Turkish_ pilgrimages to

_Mecca_, or the _Popish_ worship of our lady of _Loretto_. Have not

you substituted in the place of the religion of the heart, something

(I do not say, equally _sinful_, but) equally vain and foreign to the

worshipping of God in spirit and in truth? What else can be said even

of prayer, public or private, in the manner wherein _you_ generally

perform it? As a thing of _course_, running round and round, in the

same dull track, without either the knowledge or the love of God?

Without one heavenly _temper_, either attained or improved?”

Now, Sir, what room is there for your “_own exclamations_,” what sort

of heavenly temper is his? How can he possibly, consistently with

charity, call “this our _general_ performance?” Sir, I do not. I only

appeal to the conscience of _you_ (and each particular reader) whether

this is, or is not, the manner wherein _you_ (in the singular number)

_generally_ perform public or private prayer. “How possibly, without

being omniscient, can he affirm, that _we_ (I presume you mean all the

members of our church) pray without one heavenly _temper_? Or know any

thing at all of our _private devotions_? How monstrous is all this!”

Recollect yourself, Sir. If your terror is real, you are more afraid

than hurt. I do not affirm any such thing. I do not take upon me, to

_know_, any thing at all of your _private devotions_. But I suppose,

I may _inquire_, without offence, and beg _you_ seriously to examine

yourself before God.

So you have brought no one proof, “That _scepticism_, _infidelity_ and

_atheism_, are either _constituent parts_ or _genuine consequences_

of _Methodism_.” Therefore your florid declamation in the following

pages, is intirely out of its place. And you might have spared yourself

the trouble of _accounting_ for what has no being, but in your own

imagination.

27. You charge the _Methodists_ next, with ¹“an _uncharitable spirit_.”

All you advance in proof of this, _as if_ it were from my writings,

but without naming either page or book, I have nothing to do with. But

whatever you tell me where to find, I shall carefully consider.

¹ Section 15, page 115, &c.

I observe but one single passage of this sort. And that you have worn

thread-bare already. “By the most infallible of proofs, inward feeling,

I am convinced――――of levity and luxuriancy of spirit――――by speaking

words not tending to edify; but most by my _manner of speaking of

my enemies_.” Sir, you may print this, not only in _Italics_, but

in _CAPITALS_, and yet it would do you no service. For what I was

convinced of then was not _uncharitableness_, but as I expressly

mentioned, “Levity of Spirit.”

28. ¹Of the same _uncharitable nature_, you say, is “their _application

of divine judgments_ to their opposers.” You borrow two instances from

Mr. _Church_. But you omit the answers, which I shall therefore subjoin.

¹ Section 16, page 119, &c.

His words are, “You describe heaven as executing judgments, immediate

punishments, on those who oppose you. You say, ‘Mr. _Molther_ was taken

ill this day. I believe it was the hand of God that was upon him.’” I

do. But I do not say as a judgment for opposing _me_. That _you_ say

for me.¹

¹ First letter to Mr. Church, page 42.

Again, “you mention, says Mr. _Church_, as an ‘awful providence, the

case of a poor wretch, who was last week cursing and blaspheming, and

had boasted to many, that he would come on _Sunday_, and no man should

stop his mouth――――but on _Friday_, God laid his hand upon him, and on

_Sunday_ he was buried.’ I do look on this as a manifest judgment of

God, on a hardened sinner, for his complicated wickedness.”

To repeat these objections, without taking the least notice of the

answers, is one of the usual proofs of your _charitable spirit_.

29. You ¹pass on to “the _Methodist’s uncharitable_ custom of summoning

their opponents _to the bar of judgment_.”

¹ Section 17, page 123. &c.

You bring two passages from my writings to prove this. The first is,

“Calling at _Newgate_ (in _Bristol_) I was informed, that the poor

wretches under sentence of death, were earnestly desirous to speak with

me; but that alderman _Beecher_ had sent an express order, that they

should not. I cite alderman _B._ to answer _for these souls_, at the

judgment seat of Christ.”

Why do you leave out those words, _for these souls_? Because they shew

the sentence means neither more nor less, than “if _these souls_ perish,

he, not I, must answer for them at the great day.”

The second passage is still more wide from the point. The whole of it

is as follows.

¹“I have often inquired, Who were the authors of such report (that I

was a _Papist_) and have generally found, they were either bigotted

dissenters, or (I speak it without fear or favour) ministers of our

own church. I have also frequently considered, what possible ground or

motive they could have thus to speak: seeing few men in the world have

had occasion so clearly and openly to declare their principles, as I

have done both by preaching, printing and conversation, for several

years last past. And I can no otherwise think, than that either they

spoke thus (to put the most favourable construction upon it) from

gross ignorance; they knew not what _Popery_ was: they knew not what

doctrines these are which the _Papists_ teach: or they wilfully spoke

what they knew to be false, probably _thinking_ thereby to do God

service. Now take this to yourselves, whoever ye are, high or low,

dissenters or churchmen, clergy or laity, who have advanced this

shameless charge, and digest it how you can.”

¹ Journal, pages 75, 76.

“But how have ye not been afraid, if ye believe there is a God,

and that he knoweth the secrets of your hearts (I speak now to you

preachers, more especially, of whatever denomination) to declare so

gross, palpable a lie, in the name of the God of truth? I cite you

all _before the Judge of all the earth_, either publicly to prove your

charge; or by publicly retracting it, to make the best amends you can,

to God, to me, and to the world.”

The works of the Rev. John Wesley, Vol. 16 (of 32) · 第 17 / 20 段