Chapter XXII: Part II (7)

“REVEREND AND DEAR BROTHER,—This morning I received a letter
from brother Harris, telling me how he had conversed with
you and your dear brother. May God remove all obstacles that
now prevent our union! Though I hold particular election,
yet I offer Jesus freely to every individual soul. You may
carry sanctification to what degrees you will, only I cannot
agree with you that the in-being of sin is to be destroyed
in this life. In about three weeks, I hope to be at Bristol.
May all disputings cease, and each of us talk of nothing but
Jesus and Him crucified! This is my resolution. I am, without
dissimulation,

“Ever yours,
“G. WHITEFIELD.”[406]

It was nearly two years after this that Wesley wrote the piece, in his collected works, entitled, “Calvinistic Controversy” (vol. xiii., p. 478). He says:—

“Having found for some time a strong desire to unite with Mr. Whitefield, as far as possible, to cut off needless dispute, I wrote down my sentiments, as plain as I could, in the following terms:—

“There are three points in debate: 1. Unconditional election. 2. Irresistible grace. 3. Final perseverance.”

With regard to the first, Wesley expresses his belief, that God has unconditionally elected certain persons to do certain work, and certain nations to receive peculiar privileges; and allows, though he says he cannot prove, that God “has unconditionally elected some persons, thence eminently styled ‘the elect,’ to eternal glory;” but he cannot believe, that all those, not thus elected to glory, must perish everlastingly; or, that there is a soul on earth but what has the chance of escaping eternal damnation.

With regard to irresistible grace, he believes, that the grace which brings faith, and, thereby, salvation, is irresistible at that moment; and, that most believers may remember a time when God irresistibly convinced them of sin, and other times when He acted irresistibly upon their souls; but he also believes, that the grace of God, both before and after these moments, may be, and hath been resisted; and that, in general, it does not act irresistibly, but we may comply therewith, or may not. In those eminently styled “the elect” (if such there be), the grace of God is so far irresistible, that they cannot but believe, and be finally saved; but it is not true, that all those must be damned in whom it does not thus irresistibly work, or, that there is a soul living who has not any other grace than such as was designed of God to increase his damnation.

With regard to final perseverance, he believes, “that there is a state attainable in this life, from which a man cannot finally fall; and that he has attained this, who can say, ‘Old things are passed away; all things in me are become new;’ and, further, he does not deny, that all those eminently styled ‘the elect’ will infallibly persevere to the end.”[407]

In reference to “the elect,” Henry Moore adds, that Wesley told him, that, when he wrote this, he believed, with Macarius, that all who are perfected in love are thus elect.

The document from which the above is taken, was written in 1743. As Mr. Jackson says, it “evidently leans too much towards Calvinism.” It is valuable chiefly because it shows Wesley’s anxiety to be at peace with Whitefield. The latter writes as though all the blame, in reference to the rupture in their friendship, lay with Wesley; whereas this was far from being true. Wesley honestly and firmly believed the doctrine of general redemption; and, because he preached it, and published a sermon in condemnation of the doctrines opposed to it, Whitefield worked himself into a fume, and wrote his pamphlet, in which he not only tries to refute Wesley’s teaching, but unnecessarily makes a personal attack on Wesley’s character, and taunts him about casting lots,—a wanton outrage, for which, in October, 1741, he humbly begged his pardon.[408] The intolerant, excessive zeal was altogether on the side of Whitefield. Wesley believed and preached general redemption; but raised no objection to Whitefield believing and preaching election and final perseverance. Instead of reciprocating this, Whitefield, in his pamphlet, blustered; and, in his letters, whined, until the difference of opinion disturbed their friendship, and led them to build separate chapels, form separate societies, and pursue, to the end of life, separate lines of action. One of Wesley’s friends wished him to reply to Whitefield’s pamphlet. Wesley answered, “You may read Whitefield against Wesley; but you shall never read Wesley against Whitefield.”[409] In private, Wesley opposed Whitefield, but in public never. On one occasion, when the two friends met in a large social gathering, Whitefield mounted his hobby, and spoke largely and valiantly in defence of his favourite system. Wesley, on the other hand, was silent till all the company were gone, when, turning to the spurred and belted controversial knight, he quietly remarked, “Brother, are you aware of what you have done to-night?” “Yes,” said Whitefield, “I have defended truth.” “You have tried to prove,” replied Wesley, “that God is worse than the devil; for the devil can only _tempt_ a man to sin; but, if what you have said be true, God _forces_ a man to sin; and therefore, on your own system, God is worse than the devil.”[410]

Thus the gulf between Wesley and Whitefield was immense. “It was undesirable—indeed, it was impossible—that they should continue to address, in turn, the same congregations; for such congregations would have been kept in the pitiable condition of a ship, thrown on its beam ends, larboard and starboard, by hurricanes driving alternately east and west.”[411]

Being separated from Whitefield and the Moravians, Wesley began to purge and to organise the societies, which were now purely and properly his own. At Bristol, he took an account of every person—(1) to whom any reasonable objection was made; and (2) who was not known to and recommended by some, on whose veracity he could depend. To those who were sufficiently recommended, he gave tickets. Most of the rest he had face to face with their accusers; and such as appeared to be innocent, or confessed their faults and promised better behaviour, were then received into the society. The others were put upon trial again, unless they voluntarily expelled themselves. By this purging process, about forty were excluded.[412] He also appointed stewards, to receive and expend what was contributed weekly; and, finding the funds insufficient, he discharged two of the Bristol schoolmasters, retaining still, at Kingswood and Bristol unitedly, three masters and two mistresses for the two schools respectively.

In London, he adopted the same process, and set apart the hours from ten to two, on every day but Saturday, for speaking with the bands and other persons, that no disorderly walker, nor any of a careless or contentious spirit, might remain among them; the result of which was the society was reduced to about a thousand members.[413] Ascertaining that many of the members were without needful food, and destitute of convenient clothing, he appointed twelve persons to visit every alternate day, and to provide things needful for the sick; also to meet once a week to give an account of their proceedings, and to consult what could be done further. Women, out of work, he proposed to employ in knitting, giving them the common price for the work they did, and then adding gratuities according to their needs. To meet these expenses, he requested those who could afford it, to give a penny weekly, and to contribute any clothing which their own use did not require.

Here we have a new Methodist agency employed. Wesley had already permitted laymen to exhort and preach; he now authorised them to pay pastoral visits among his people. At present, they were _mere visitors_, and meetings analogous to the class-meetings of the present day did not exist. The two Wesleys often addressed the societies apart, after they had dismissed the general congregation. They also fixed certain hours for private conversation; and now they appointed visitors to visit those who through sickness, poverty, or other causes, were not able to avail themselves of such assistance. This, as yet, was all. In the present sense, bands and classes there were none, except that each society, after the manner of the Moravians, was divided into male and female, and, perhaps, married and unmarried, bands, all of them watched over by Wesley or by his brother; and the sick and poor among them visited by persons appointed to that office. In Bristol, several members applied to Wesley for baptism, and he gave the bishop notice to that effect, adding, that they desired him to baptize them by immersion.[414] The Kingswood society, having been repelled from the sacramental table at Temple church, Charles Wesley gave them the sacrament in their own humble school; and, notwithstanding his high churchism, declared that, under the circumstances, if they had not had the school, he should have felt himself justified in administering it in the wood. In London, some of the members communicated at St. Paul’s, or at their own parish churches; but, during the autumn, on five successive Sundays, Wesley availed himself of the offer of Mr. Deleznot, a French clergyman, and used his small church, in Hermitage Street, Wapping, in administering the Lord’s supper to five successive batches of about two hundred members of his society (as many as the place could well contain), until all the society, consisting of about a thousand persons, had received it.[415]

To the members at Bristol, and doubtless also at London, Wesley gave _tickets_. On every ticket he wrote, with his own hand, the member’s name, “so that,” says he, “the ticket implied as strong a recommendation of the person to whom it was given as if I had wrote at length, ‘I believe the bearer hereof to be one that fears God and works righteousness.’”

Wesley regarded these tickets as being equivalent to the επιστολαι συστατικαι, “commendatory letters,” mentioned by the apostle, and says they were of use: (1) because, wherever those who bore them came, they were acknowledged by their brethren, and received with all cheerfulness; (2) when the societies had to meet apart, the tickets easily distinguished who were members and who were not; (3) they supplied a quiet and inoffensive method of removing any disorderly member; for, the tickets being changed once a quarter, and, of course, no new ticket being given to such a person, it was hereby immediately known that he was no longer a member of the community.[416]

The writer is possessed of nearly a complete set of these society tickets, from the first, issued about 1742, to those given a hundred years afterwards. Many of them bear the autographs of John and Charles Wesley, William Grimshaw, and other old Methodist worthies. The earliest are wood and copper-plate engravings, printed on cardboard, without any text of Scripture: some bearing the emblem of an angel flying in the clouds of heaven, with one trumpet to his mouth, and a second in his hand; and others of the Sun of Righteousness shining on a phœnix rising out of fire. Some have a dove encircled with glory; and others have no engraving whatever, but simply an inscription, written by Charles Wesley, “August, 1746.” Some merely have the word “Society” imprinted, with the member’s name written underneath; others have a lamb carrying a flag; and others a tree with a broken stem, Jehovah as a sun shining on it, and at its foot two men, one planting a new cutting, and the other watering one already planted. Some represent Christ in the clouds of heaven, with the cross in one hand and a crown in the other; and others represent the Christian kneeling before an altar, inscribed with the words, “Pray always and faint not.” One represents Christ as washing a disciple’s feet; and another, with a text of Scripture at the top, has four lines below, in which are printed, “March 25, June 25, September 29, December 25,” with space left opposite to each for writing the member’s name, and so making one ticket serve for the four quarters of a year. One bears the impress of an anchor and a crown; and another the image of old father Time, hurrying along, with a scroll in his hand, inscribed with “Now is the accepted time.” Some are printed with black ink, some with red, and some with blue. About 1750, emblems gave place to texts of Scripture, which have been continued from that time to this.

The Methodist societies, as organised by Wesley, were thus fairly started in 1741. Meanwhile, Methodism on earth began to swell the inhabitants of heaven. At the very commencement of the year, Elizabeth Davis, of London, after she was speechless, being desired to hold up her hand if she knew she was going to God, immediately held up both. Anne Cole, on being asked by Wesley, whether she chose to live or die, answered: “I choose neither, I choose nothing. I am in my Saviour’s hands, and I have no will but His.” Another of the London members, when visited by Wesley, said: “I am very ill,—but I am very well. O, I am happy, happy, happy! My spirit continually rejoices in God my Saviour. Life or death is all one to me. I have no darkness, no cloud. My body indeed is weak and in pain, but my soul is all joy and praise.” Jane Muncy exclaimed: “I faint not, I murmur not, I rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks. God is ever with me, and I have nothing to do but praise Him.” In Bristol, a woman in her dying agonies cried out: “O, how loving is God to me! But He is loving to every man, and loves every soul as well as He loves mine.” The last words of another were, “Death stares me in the face, but I fear him not.” Hannah Richardson, who was followed to her grave by the whole of the Bristol society, the procession being pelted in the streets with dirt and stones, said: “I have no fear, no doubt, no trouble. Heaven is open! I see Jesus Christ with all His angels and saints in white. I see what I cannot utter or express.” Sister Hooper cried, “I am in great pain, but in greater joy.” Sister Lillington exclaimed, “I never felt such love before; I love every soul: I am all love, and so is God.” Rachel Peacock sang hymns incessantly, and was so filled with joy that she shouted: “Though I groan, I feel no pain at all; Christ so rejoices and fills my heart.”[417] And to all these may be added Keziah Wesley. In a letter to his brother, dated March 9, 1741, Charles Wesley writes: “Yesterday morning, sister Kezzy died in the Lord Jesus. He finished His work, and cut it short in mercy. Full of thankfulness, resignation, and love, without pain or trouble, she commended her spirit into the hands of Jesus, and fell asleep.”[418]

These were triumphs in the midst of troubles; for, besides the anxiety and pain arising out of the differences with Whitefield and the Moravians, Wesley, in 1741, had to encounter no inconsiderable amount of unprincipled persecution. At Deptford, while he was preaching, “many poor wretches were got together, utterly devoid both of common sense and common decency, who cried aloud, as if just come from ‘among the tombs.’” In London, on Shrove Tuesday, “many men of the baser sort” mixed themselves with the female part of his congregation, and behaved with great indecency. “A constable commanded them to keep the peace, in answer to which they knocked him down.” In Long Lane, while Wesley was preaching, the mob pelted him with stones, one of great size passing close past his head. In Marylebone fields, in the midst of his sermon, out of doors, missiles fell thick and fast on every side. In Charles Square, Hoxton, the rabble brought an ox which they endeavoured to drive through the congregation. A man, who happened to be a Dissenting minister, after hearing him preach at Chelsea, asked, “_Quid est tibi nomen?_” and, on Wesley not answering his impertinence, the pedantic puppy turned in triumph to his friends, and said, “Ah! I told you he did not understand Latin.” Among other slanders concerning him, it was currently reported that he had paid a fine of £20, for selling Geneva gin; that he kept in his house two popish priests; that he had received large remittances from Spain, in order to make a party among the poor; and that, as soon as the Spaniards landed, he was to join them with twenty thousand men. It was also rumoured, that, in Bristol, he had hanged himself, and had been cut down just in time to save his life. The _Scots Magazine_, for August, had a scurrilous article to the following effect. Above thirty Methodists had been in Bedlam, and six were there at present. Wesley had set up, at his Moorfields meeting-house, a number of spinning wheels, where girls who had absconded from their homes, and servants who had been discharged for neglecting their master’s business, were set to work, and were allowed sixpence daily, the overplus of their earnings going into Wesley’s pocket. Boys and girls mixed together, and were taught to call each other brother and sister in the Lord. They had to greet each other with a holy kiss, and to show the utmost affection and fondness, in imitation of the primitive Christians. In the rooms adjoining the spinning wheels were several beds, and when persons, in the Foundery congregation, fell into fits, either pretended or real, they were carried out and laid upon these beds, that Wesley might pray the evil spirits out of them, and the good spirit into them, and thus convert them.

In refutation of this tissue of unmingled falsehoods, a writer says, in the same magazine, that he had visited the Foundery, and found it “an old open house, like the tennis court at Edinburgh;” but there were no bedchambers, and no spinning wheels; and, consequently, no runaway girls nor discarded menials. And, so far from above thirty Methodists having been sent to Bedlam, the writer had made inquiry in London, and was unable to hear of one.[419]

The _Gentleman’s Magazine_, for the same year (page 26), has a ridiculous letter, purporting to be from a Methodist to a clergyman, in which the clergyman is charged with turning “the _Scripters_ upside down,” and with calling the Methodists “_expownding infildelfels_.” Appended to the letter are annotations, stating that, in a certain barn, twenty or thirty Methodists rendezvous to hear a young schoolmaster preach, pray, and sing Wesley’s hymns; and that, recently, a mob of juveniles had chastised his ambition by throwing snowballs at him; but the preaching pedagogue, instead of ceasing, had cheered himself by singing hymns suitable to such adventurers; and a cobbler’s wife had been so excited by his dissertations upon the pangs of the new birth, that she imagined herself pregnant with devils, had been delivered of two or three, but still felt others struggling within her.

The _Weekly Miscellany_ tells its readers that, in the assemblies of the expounding houses, lately erected in the outskirts of London by the Methodists, any one, who conceits himself inwardly moved, immediately sets up for a Scripture expounder. In a long article, it pretends to show that the Methodist preachers are like the German Anabaptists—1. Because they act contrary to the oaths they have taken. 2. Because of their invectives against the clergy. 3. Because they are against all rule and authority. 4. Because they let laymen and also women preach. 5. Because they preach in the streets. 6. Because they denounce vengeance and damnation against sinners. 7. Because they contend for absolute perfection in this life. 8. Because they pretend to be always guided by the Holy Ghost. And, 9. Because they hold the doctrine of community of goods.

The same abusive but vigorously written paper contains an attack upon the poor Methodists, by Hooker, the editor, begun in the number for March 14, and continued weekly until June 27, when this scolding periodical came to a well deserved termination. The following are a few selections:—

March 28.—Wesley pretends to cast out spirits from those whom he declares possessed of them; but he is “a grand, empty, inconsistent heretic; the ringleader, fomenter, and first cause of all the divisions, separations, factions, and feuds that have happened in Oxford, London, Bristol, and other places where he has been.”

April 25.—Wesley rebaptizes adults, on the ground that, _really_ they have never been baptized before, the baptism of infants by sprinkling being no true baptism in his esteem. When Whitefield returned from Georgia, he preached at the Foundery, taking for his text, “O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you?” For this he was immediately excommunicated from the Foundery pulpit, lest the people should think that Wesley was a conjuror. “Everybody allows that there are above twenty, and some say forty, spinning wheels at the Foundery.” “Wesley well knows how to breakfast with one of his devotees, dine with another, and sup with a third, all of which retrenches the charges of housekeeping at home. Those who sit in his gallery must subscribe five shillings a quarter, and those who stand, a penny a week. He who advances half-a-crown a quarter is admitted into the close society; and he who doubles that amount becomes a member of the bands, where men and women stay all night, but for what purpose is known only to God and to themselves. The price for resolving cases of conscience is threepence each. Wesley makes at least £50 by every edition of the hymns he publishes; and thus, by his preaching, his bookselling, his workhouse, his wheedling, and his sponging, it is generally believed that he gets an income of £700 a year, and some say above £1000. This,” adds the mendacious editor, “is priest-craft in perfection.”

May 9.—The writer speculates concerning what is likely to be the end of the Methodist movement. 1. Some think if the Methodists are let alone, they will, as a matter of course, fall to pieces. 2. Others think that the irreconcilable differences between Wesley and Whitefield will effect their ruin; for Whitefield has set up a conventicle of boards not far from Wesley’s Foundery; and while one calls the other schismatic, the other in requital calls him a heretic. 3. Some think that their congregations, by neglecting their business and their work, will be reduced to beggary, and this, of course, will ruin all. 4. Lastly, others think their conduct will be such that the government will find it necessary to suppress them.

June 13.—Proposes the erection of a Methodist edifice on Blackheath. The foundation stone is to be the tombstone that prevented the resurrection of Dr. Emes, the famous French prophet. The principal entrance is to be adorned with statues of the most eminent field-preachers. The hall is to be decorated with a piece, in which the principal figure is to be Enthusiasm, sitting in an easy chair, and just delivered of two beauteous babes, the one called Superstition, and the other Infidelity. On her right hand must be a grisly old gentleman with a cloven foot, holding the new born children in a receiver, which the Pope has blessed, and gazing upon them with most fatherly affection. The _pang room_ of the building is to be for the accommodation of those seized with the pangs of the new birth. All who run mad about election must be lodged in the _predestination room_,—which, by the way, is likely to be well peopled, and therefore must be large, as well as dark and gloomy, and must be adorned with the evolutions, intricacies, and involutions of a rusty chain, held at one end by the Methodistic founder, and at the other by the devil. The _disputation room_ is, like a cockpit, to be round as a hoop, so that the disputants may have the pleasure of disputing in a circle. The _expounding room_ is to be adorned with a picture of the founder, with a pair of scissors in one hand and a Bible in the other; a motto over his reverend head, “Dividing the word of God;” and all round about scraps of paper supposed to be texts newly clipped from the sacred Scriptures. The _refectory_ is to have a painting to represent Wesley, Whitefield, and C. Graves at supper, with Madam Bourignon presiding. Near her must be an ass’s head boiled with sprouts and bacon; and, at the other end of the table, a dish of owls roasted and larded. Having already helped Whitefield to the jaw bone of the ass’s head, and Wesley to the sweet tooth, she now gives Mr. Graves a spoonful of the brains and a bit of tongue, which he receives with a grateful bow. The foundation stone is to be laid on the first of April; and the procession to the site are to sing, not the psalms of David, for they are not half good enough, but a hymn of Wesley’s own composing.

Ridicule like this was even worse than being pelted with brickbats and rotten eggs.

The two Wesleys and Whitefield were often roughly treated; and so also was John Cennick, the Methodist Moravian. At Swindon, the mob surrounded his congregation, rung a bell, blew a horn, and used a fire engine in drenching him and them with water. Guns were fired over the people’s heads, and rotten eggs were plentiful.[420] At Hampton, near Gloucester, the rabble, chiefly soldiers, to annoy him, beat a drum and let off squibs and crackers. For an hour and a half, hog’s wash and fœtid water were poured upon him and his congregation, who all the while stood perfectly still, in secret prayer, with their eyes and hands lifted up to heaven.[421] At Stratton, a crowd of furious men came, armed with weapons, clubs, and staves. Cudgels were used most unmercifully. Some of his congregation had blood streaming down their faces; others, chiefly women, were dragged away by the hair of their head. Sylvester Keen spat in the face of Cennick’s sister, and beat her about the head, as if he meant to kill her. The mob bellowed and roared like maniacs; but Cennick kept on preaching and praying till he was violently pulled down; when he and his friends set out for Lineham, singing hymns, and followed by the crowd, who bawled—“You cheating dog, you pickpocketing rogue, sell us a halfpenny ballad!”[422]

In the midst of such treatment, Methodism went on its way, and prospered. It is a remarkable fact, that, during 1741, there were no _stricken_ cases, like those which occurred in 1739, excepting two at Bristol; but there were many signal seasons of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. A man, who had been an atheist for twenty years, came to the Foundery to make sport, but was so convinced of sin, that he rested not until he found peace with God. At Bristol, on one occasion, “some wept aloud, some clapped their hands, some shouted, and the rest sang praise.” In Charles Square, London, while a violent storm was raging, “their hearts danced for joy, praising ‘the glorious God that maketh the thunder.’”

Two or three other important events, occurring in the year 1741, must be noticed.

At midsummer, Wesley spent about three weeks in Oxford. Here he inquired concerning the exercises requisite in order to become a Bachelor in Divinity. The Oxford Methodists were scattered. Out of twenty-five or thirty weekly communicants, only two were left; and not one continued to attend the daily prayers of the Church. Here he met with his old friend, Mr. Gambold, who told him he need be under no concern respecting his sermon before the university, which he had come to preach, for the authorities would be utterly regardless of what he said. Here also he had a conversation with Richard Viney, originally a London tailor, but now the Oxford Moravian minister,—a man, as James Hutton tells us, whose person, delivery, and bearing prevented his sermons being acceptable to many, and yet a man, who, in this same year, was elected president of the society in Fetter Lane. Ultimately he removed to Broad Oaks, Essex, as the superintendent of the Moravian school; then, by casting lots, was condemned as an enemy of the work of God; and then joined Wesley’s society at Birstal, which he so perverted, that they “laughed at all fasting, and self denial, and family prayer,” and treated even John Nelson slightingly.[423]

Wesley preached his sermon at St. Mary’s, on Saturday, July 25, to one of the largest congregations he had seen in Oxford. His text was: “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian;” and his two divisions, (1) what is implied in being _almost_; and (2) what in being _altogether_, a Christian. The sermon is one of the most faithful that Wesley ever preached. It was printed by W. Strahan, 12mo, pages 21, and was sold at twopence.

It is almost certain, however, that this was not the sermon that Wesley _meant_ to preach. After his decease, a mutilated manuscript in English was found among his papers, dated “July 24, 1741” (a month before he preached at Oxford), and also a copy of the same in Latin. This was a discourse on the text, “How is the faithful city become an harlot!” There can be no question that the sermon was written with the design of being delivered before the university, and that, for some reason, the design for the present was abandoned. The sermon, if preached, must inevitably have brought upon the preacher the ire of his hearers. While admitting that the university had some who were faithful witnesses of gospel truth, Wesley alleges that, comparatively speaking, they were very few. To say nothing of deists, Arians, and Socinians, some of the chief champions of the faith were far from being faultless. Tillotson had published several sermons expressly to prove that, not _faith alone_, but _good works_, are necessary in order to justification; and the great Bishop Bull had taken the same position. Wesley then proceeds to attack the members of the university in a way, perhaps, not the most prudent. He asks if it is not a fact, that many of them “believe that a good moral man, and a good Christian, mean the same?” He continues:—

“Scarcely is the form of godliness seen among us. Take any one
you meet; take a second, a third, a fourth, or the twentieth.
Not one of them has even the appearance of a saint, any more
than of an angel. Is there no needless visiting on the sabbath
day? no trifling, no impertinence of conversation? And, on
other days, are not the best of our conversing hours spent in
foolish talking and jesting, nay, perhaps, in wanton talking
too? Are there not many among us found to eat and drink with
the drunken? Are not even the hours assigned for study too
commonly employed in reading plays, novels, and idle tales? How
many voluntary blockheads there are among us, whose ignorance
is not owing to incapacity, but to mere laziness! How few, of
the vast number, who have it in their power, are truly learned
men! Who is there that can be said to understand Hebrew? Might
I not say, or even Greek? O what is so scarce as learning, save
religion!”[424]

The remainder of this remarkable sermon is in the same strain. Its allegations, we are afraid, were true; but the sermon was far too personal to be prudent, and Wesley exercised a wise discretion in exchanging it for the other.

During the year 1741, while in Wales, Wesley was seized with a serious illness. Hastening to Bristol, he was ordered, by Dr. Middleton, to go to bed,—“a strange thing to me,” he writes, “who have not kept my bed a day for five-and-thirty years.” A dangerous fever followed, and the Bristol society held a fast and offered prayer. For eight days, he hung between life and death; and, for three weeks, he was kept a prisoner, when, contrary to the advice given him, he resumed his work, and began to preach daily.

This was a long interval of enforced retirement for a man of Wesley’s active temperament; but it was not unprofitably spent. As soon as he could, he began to read, and during his convalescence devoured half-a-dozen works. He read “the life of that truly good and great man, Mr. Philip Henry;” and “the life of Mr. Matthew Henry,—a man not to be despised, either as a scholar or a Christian, though not equal to his father.” He read “Mr. Laval’s ‘History of the Reformed Churches in France;’ full of the most amazing instances of the wickedness of men, and of the goodness and power of God.” He likewise read “Turretin’s ‘History of the Church,’ a dry, heavy, barren treatise.” He gave a second perusal to “Theologia Germanica,” and asks, “O, how was it that I could ever so admire the affected obscurity of this unscriptural writer?” He also “read again, with great surprise, part of the ‘Ecclesiastical History of Eusebius,’” and says, “so weak, credulous, thoroughly injudicious a writer have I seldom found.”

Among the pamphlets published against Wesley, during 1741, was one entitled: “The Perfectionists Examined; or, Inherent Perfection in this Life, no Scripture Doctrine. By William Fleetwood, Gent.” 8vo, 99 pages. Fleetwood asserts that, of all the open and professed enemies of the gospel, the Methodists are the worst; “they are more destructive to religion than the papists or Mahometans;” “by their artful insinuations, and outward sanctity, they have drawn numbers of _silly women_ after them; they plainly show themselves to be some of those of whom the apostle Peter prophesied, ‘Such as bring in damnable heresies, denying the Lord that bought them’”; “and are more like _French_ enthusiasts, or rank papists, than true Christians.” The reader must guess the rest.

Another opponent was Joseph Hart, who published a small work on “The Unreasonableness of Religion, being Remarks and Animadversions on Mr. John Wesley’s Sermon on Romans viii. 32.” Of all the enemies Wesley had, Joseph Hart was one of the most persisting, for he scarcely ever preached without endeavouring, more or less, to explode Wesley’s doctrines, as tending to lead the people into dangerous delusions.[425]

Another pamphlet, octavo, 75 pages, published during the year 1741, was entitled: “The Doctrine of Justification by Faith, stated according to the Articles of the Church of England. By Arthur Bedford, M.A., Chaplain to His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales.” This was written at the request of “a member of the religious societies in London,” who told the author, that, “there had been great disputes among them lately concerning this doctrine; some having advanced faith so high, as to make no necessity of a good life; and others having advanced works so high, as to make faith to consist only in a general belief, that the New Testament is the word of God.” The pamphlet is an able production, and is temperately written. To most of its sentiments, Wesley himself would have raised no objection.

It only remains to notice Wesley’s own publications during 1741.[426]

Probably the first was his sermon, entitled, “Christian Perfection.” He writes: “I think it was in the latter end of the year 1740, that I had a conversation with Dr. Gibson, then bishop of London, at Whitehall. He asked me what I meant by perfection. I told him without any disguise or reserve. When I ceased speaking, he said, ‘Mr. Wesley, if this be all you mean, publish it to all the world,’ I answered, ‘My lord, I will’; and accordingly wrote and published the sermon on Christian perfection.”[427]

The two divisions of this important sermon are: (1) in what sense Christians _are not_, and (2) in what sense they _are_, _perfect_. Wesley shows that no one is so perfect in this life, as to be free from ignorance, from mistakes, from infirmities, and from temptations. On the other hand, he proves that the perfect Christian is freed from outward sin; from evil thoughts; and from evil tempers. The sermon is elaborate, and has affixed to it Charles Wesley’s hymn on “The Promise of Sanctification,” consisting of twenty-eight stanzas, and beginning with the line,—“God of all power, and truth, and grace.”

Another of Wesley’s publications was, “A Collection of Psalms and Hymns.” Hitherto, all the hymn-books, except the first, had borne, on the title-page, the names of both the brothers; but this has the name of Wesley only.

A third was, “A Dialogue between a Predestinarian and his Friend.” 12mo, eight pages. The object of this short tract is to show, from the writings of Piscator, Calvin, Zanchius, and others, that predestinarianism teaches, that God causes reprobates to sin, and creates them on purpose to be damned.[428]

Besides the above, Wesley published four abridgments from other works.

1. “The Scripture Doctrine concerning Predestination, Election, and Reprobation.” 12mo, 16 pages.

2. “Serious Considerations on Absolute Predestination.” 12mo, 24 pages. The tract proves, that the doctrine of absolute predestination is objectionable: (1) because it makes God the author of sin; (2) because, it makes Him delight in the death of sinners; (3) because, it is highly injurious to Christ our Mediator; (4) because, it makes the preaching of the gospel a mere mock and illusion; etc.

3. “An Extract of the Life of Monsieur De Renty, a late Nobleman of France.” 12mo, pages 67. De Renty usually rose at five o’clock; communicated every day; and spent his time in devotion and doing good. For several years he ate but one meal a day, and even that was scanty and always of the poorest food. He often passed the night in a chair, instead of in bed, or would lie down upon a bench in his clothes and boots. He parted with several books, because richly bound; and carried no silver about him, but for works of charity. When his mother took from him a large portion of his property, he caused the _Te Deum_ to be sung, beginning it himself. He was wont to say, “I carry about with me ordinarily a plenitude of the presence of the Holy Trinity.” In visiting the sick, he would kindle their fires, make their beds, and set in order their little household stuff. His zeal for the salvation of men was boundless. “I am ready,” said he, “to serve all men, not excepting one, and to lay down my life for any one.” He established numbers of societies at Caen and other places, for the purpose of Christians assisting one another in working out both their own and their neighbours’ salvation. He died at Paris, in the thirty-seventh year of his age, on April 24, 1649. De Renty was, in Wesley’s estimation, a model saint.

4. The fourth and last abridgment published, in 1741, was entitled, “Reflections upon the Conduct of Human Life, with reference to Learning and Knowledge.” 12mo, pages 36. This was extracted from a work written by Dr. John Norris, an old friend of Wesley’s father, and one of the principal contributors to the _Athenian Gazette_.[429]

The tract, throughout, is in a high degree rich and racy, and well worth reading. It unquestionably contains the great principles which guided Wesley in all his reading, writing, publishing of books, and educational efforts in general. He considered all kinds of knowledge useful; but, some being much more so than others, he devoted to them time and attention accordingly; and made the whole subordinate to the great purpose of human existence,—the glory of God, and the happiness of man. We finish the present chapter with a few sentences culled from the conclusion of this threepenny production:—

“I cannot, with any patience, reflect, that, out of so short a
time as human life, consisting, it may be, of fifty or sixty
years, nineteen or twenty shall be spent in hammering out a
little Latin and Greek, and in learning a company of poetical
fictions and fantastic stories. If one were to judge of the
life of man by the proportion of it spent at school, one would
think the antediluvian mark were not yet out. Besides, the
things taught in seminaries are often frivolous. How many
excellent and useful things might be learnt, while boys are
thumbing and murdering Hesiod and Homer? Of what signification
is such stuff as this, to the accomplishment of a reasonable
soul? What improvement can it be to my understanding, to
know the amours of _Pyramus_ and _Thisbe_, or of _Hero_ and
_Leander_? Let any man but consider human nature, and tell me
whether he thinks a boy is fit to be trusted with Ovid? And
yet, to books such as these our youth is dedicated, and in
these some of us employ our riper years; and, when we die,
this makes one part of our funeral eulogy; though, according
to the principles before laid down, we should have been as
pertinently and more innocently employed all the while, if we
had been picking straws in Bedlam. The measure of prosecuting
learning is its usefulness to good life; and, consequently, all
prosecution of it beyond or beside this end, is impertinent
and immoderate. For my own part, I am so thoroughly convinced
of the certainty of the principles here propounded, that I
look upon myself as under almost a necessity of conducting
my studies by them, and intend to study nothing at all but
what serves to the advancement of piety and good life. I have
spent about thirteen years in the most celebrated university
in the world, in pursuing both such learning as the academical
standard requires, and as my private genius inclined me to; but
I intend to spend my uncertain remainder of time in studying
only what makes for the moral improvement of my mind, and the
regulation of my life. More particularly, I shall apply myself
to read such books as are rather persuasive than instructive;
such as warm, kindle, and enlarge the affections, and awaken
the Divine sense in the soul; being convinced, by every day’s
experience, that I have more need of heat than light; though
were I for more light, still I think the love of God is the
best light of the soul of man.”

This is a long extract; but it is of some consequence, as furnishing a key to the whole of Wesley’s literary pursuits—from this, the commencement of his Methodist career, to the end of his protracted life. His aim was not to shine in scholarship, but to live a life of goodness.

1742.

[Sidenote: 1742 Age 39]

Wesley now began to enlarge the sphere of his operations. Hitherto, his only stated congregations had been at Kingswood, at Bristol, and at the Foundery, London. For these, the ministrations of himself and his brother were sufficient; but, as the work increased, new preachers became needful. Cennick and Humphreys had both left him; but others supplied their places. John Nelson came to London, was converted, and, at the end of the year 1740, returned to Birstal in Yorkshire, where, impelled by the love of Christ, and almost without knowing it, he began to preach to his unconverted neighbours. Thomas Maxfield also, one of the first converts in Bristol, and who, for a year or two, seems to have travelled with Charles Wesley, perhaps in the capacity of servant, being left in London, to meet during Wesley’s absence the Foundery society, pray with them, and give them suitable advice, was insensibly led from praying to preaching,—his sermons being accompanied with such power, that numbers were made penitent and were converted. Wesley, hearing of this irregularity, hurried back to London, for the purpose of stopping it. His mother, living in his house, adjoining the Foundery, said: “John, take care what you do with respect to that young man, for he is as surely called of God to preach, as you are. Examine what have been the fruits of his preaching, and hear him yourself.” The Countess of Huntingdon also wrote: “Maxfield is one of the greatest instances of God’s peculiar favour that I know. He is my astonishment. The first time I made him expound, I expected little from him; but, before he had gone over one fifth part of his discourse, my attention was riveted, and I was immovable. His power in prayer, also, is very extraordinary.”[430]

Wesley was convinced, and the Rubicon was passed. “I am not clear,” he writes under the date of April 21, 1741, “that brother Maxfield should not expound at Greyhound Lane; nor can I as yet do without him. Our clergymen” (Stonehouse, Hall, and others) “have miscarried full as much as the laymen; and that the Moravians are other than laymen, I know not.”[431] Wesley wrote again, about four years after employing Maxfield:—

“I am bold to affirm, that these unlettered men have help
from God for the great work of saving souls from death. But,
indeed, in the one thing which they profess to know, they are
not ignorant men. I trust there is not one of them, who is
not able to go through such an examination, in substantial,
practical, experimental divinity, as few of our candidates for
holy orders, even in the university, are able to do. In answer
to the objection, that they are laymen, I reply, the scribes
of old, who were the ordinary preachers among the Jews, were
not priests; they were not better than laymen. Yea, many of
them were incapable of the priesthood, being not of the tribe
of Levi. Hence, probably, it was, that the Jews themselves
never urged it as an objection to our Lord’s preaching, that
He was no priest after the order of Aaron; nor, indeed, could
be; seeing He was of the tribe of Judah. Nor does it appear
that any objected this to the apostles. If we come to later
times, was Mr. Calvin ordained? Was he either priest or deacon?
And were not most of those whom it pleased God to employ in
promoting the Reformation abroad, laymen also? Could that great
work have been promoted at all, in many places, if laymen had
not preached? In all Protestant churches, ordination is not
held a necessary pre-requisite of preaching; for in Sweden, in
Germany, in Holland, and, I believe, in every Reformed church
in Europe, it is not only permitted, but required, that, before
any one is ordained, he shall publicly preach a year or more
_ad probandum facultatem_. And, for this practice, they believe
they have an express command of God; ‘let those first be
proved, then let them use the office of a deacon, being found
blameless’ (1 Tim. iii. 10). Besides, in how many churches, in
England, does the parish clerk read one of the lessons, and
in some the whole service of the Church, perhaps every Lord’s
day? And do not other laymen constantly do the same thing in
our very cathedrals? which, being under the inspection of
the bishops, should be patterns to all other churches. Nay,
is it not done in the universities themselves? Who ordained
that singing man at Christ Church; who is likewise utterly
unqualified for the work, murdering every lesson he reads; not
endeavouring to read it as the word of God, but rather as an
old song?”

Where is the priest, pretending that preaching belongs exclusively to those in orders, who can answer such arguments as these? But Wesley’s case was stronger than even this. He proceeds to relate that, after God had used him and his brother clergymen, in several places, in turning many from a course of sin to a course of holiness, the ministers of these places, instead of receiving them with open arms, spoke of them “as if the devil, not God, had sent them; and represented them as fellows not fit to live,—papists, heretics, traitors, conspirators against their king and country;” while the people, who had been converted by their preaching, were “driven from the Lord’s table, and were openly cursed in the name of God.” What could be done in a case like this? “No clergyman would assist at all. The expedient that remained was, to find some one among themselves, who was upright of heart, and of sound judgment in the things of God; and to desire him to meet the rest as often as he could, in order to confirm, as he was able, in the ways of God, either by reading to them, or by prayer, or by exhortation.”

This was done, and God blessed it. “In several places, by means of these unlettered men, not only those who had already begun to run well were hindered from drawing back to perdition; but other sinners also, from time to time, were converted from the error of their ways.”

“This plain account,” continues Wesley, “of the whole proceeding, I take to be the best defence of it. I know no scripture which forbids making use of such help, in a case of such necessity. And I praise God who has given even this help to those poor sheep, when ‘their own shepherds pitied them not.’”

Brave-hearted Wesley! The step he took was momentous; but he was a match for all opposers; and marvellous is the fact that the very Church, which so branded him for such a departure from Church order, is now actually copying his example. Notable, in future years, will be the incident, which has almost passed without being noticed, that, in the month of May, 1869, in his own private chapel, at London House, Dr. Jackson, Bishop of London, formally authorised eight laymen “to read prayers, and to read and _explain_ the Holy Scriptures,” and “to conduct religious services for the poor in schools, and mission rooms, and in the open air,” in the London diocese, with the understanding and agreement that their labours will be rendered gratuitously.[432] Thus are even bishops treading in the once hated footsteps of the great Methodist.

In 1742, Wesley’s itinerating commenced in earnest. During the year, he spent about twenty-four weeks in London and its vicinity; fourteen in Bristol and the surrounding neighbourhood; one in Wales; and thirteen in making two tours to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, taking, on his way, Donnington Park, Birstal, Halifax, Dewsbury, Mirfield, Epworth, Sheffield, and other towns and villages adjoining these.

Whitefield spent the first two months in Bristol, Gloucester, and the west of England, and the three following in London. He then went to Scotland, where he continued until the end of October, when he returned to London for the remainder of the year.

Wesley and he were again friends. On April 23, Wesley writes: “I spent an agreeable hour with Mr. Whitefield. I believe he is sincere in all he says, concerning his earnest desire of joining hand in hand with all that love the Lord Jesus Christ. But if, as some would persuade me, he is not, the loss is all on his own side. I am just as I was. I go on my way, whether he goes with me or stays behind.”

This interview took place at Easter, a season of the year which Moorfields was wont to keep with uproarious hilarity. On this occasion, the spacious rendezvous was filled, from end to end, with mountebanks, players, drummers, trumpeters, merryandrews, and menageries. Whitefield mounted his field pulpit, and from twenty to thirty thousand people flocked around him. He became a target, at which were hurled dirt, dead cats, stones, and rotten eggs. A fool belonging to one of the puppetshows attempted to lash him with a whip; and a recruiting sergeant, with his drum and other musical instruments, marched through his congregation; but Whitefield, for three hours, continued praying, preaching, and singing; and then retired to the Tabernacle, with his pocket full of notes from persons who had been awakened by his sermon, and which were read amid the praises and acclamations of assembled crowds. A thousand such papers had been sent to him; and three hundred and fifty of the inquiring penitents were received into church fellowship in a single day.[433]

Wesley and Whitefield henceforth were divided, and yet united. Each pursued his own separate course; but their hearts were one. Their creeds were different; but not their aims. “Mr. Wesley,” writes Whitefield in 1742, “I think is wrong in some things; but I believe he will shine bright in glory. I have not given way to him, or to any, whom I thought in error, no not for an hour; but I think it best not to dispute, where there is no probability of convincing.”[434] And again, in a letter to Wesley himself, on October 11, 1742, he says: “I had your kind letter, dated October 5. In answer to the first part of it, I say, ‘Let old things pass away, and all things become new.’ I can also heartily say ‘Amen’ to the latter part of it—‘Let the king live for ever and controversy die,’ It has died with me long ago. I thank you, dear sir, for praying for me. I have been upon my knees praying for you and yours, and that nothing but love, lowliness, and simplicity may be among us!”[435]