Chapter V: Part III (4)
On his way from London to Bristol, besides preaching at Colnbrook, Reading, Blewbury, Oxford, and Cirencester, Wesley read Dr. Bates’s “_Elenchus Motuum nuperorum in Anglia_,” and pronounces his thoughts generally just, and his Latin not much inferior to Cæsar’s, but says “he has no more mercy on the Puritans, than upon Cromwell.”
Seventeen days were spent in Bristol and at Kingswood, during which he began writing his French Grammar; met the preachers every day at four in the afternoon; and expelled a boy from Kingswood school, who had studiously laboured to corrupt all the others. The Kingswood society was stationary; that at Bristol a great deal worse. They complained of the want of lively preachers, and had among them an almost universal deadness. He writes: “What cause have we to be humbled over this people! Last year more than a hundred members were added; this year near a hundred are lost. Such a decay has not been in this society, since it began to meet together.”
On the 19th of March, Wesley and Christopher Hopper set out for Ireland; but it was not until the 6th of April that they were able to sail from Holyhead to Dublin. In riding to Brecknock, Wesley’s horse fell twice; but without hurt either to man or beast. While they were crossing the Welsh mountains, rain was incessant; and the wind blew so boisterously, that it was with the utmost difficulty they could save themselves from being blown over their horses’ heads. In a cottage on the road, Wesley “sat down for three or four hours, and translated Aldrich’s Logic.” At Holyhead, he overtook John Jane, a preacher, in the third year of his itinerancy, who had set out from Bristol with three shillings in his pocket. For six nights out of seven he had been entertained by utter strangers; and, on his arrival, had just a penny left. Five months afterwards, this brave-hearted itinerant died, his last words being, “I have found the love of God in Christ Jesus.” A friend, who was with him at the time, observes:[93] “all his clothes, linen and woollen, his stockings, hat, and wig, are not thought sufficient to pay his funeral expenses, which amount to £1 17_s._ 3_d._ All the money he had was one shilling and fourpence. But he had enough. Food, raiment, and a good conscience were all he wanted here.” “Enough,” adds Wesley, “for any unmarried preacher of the gospel to leave to his executors.”
Wesley and Hopper embarked at Holyhead on the 29th of March, and found on board Mr. Griffith, of Carnarvonshire, “a clumsy, overgrown, hardfaced man, who poured out such a volley of ribaldry, obscenity, and blasphemy, every second or third word being an oath, as was scarce ever heard at Billingsgate.” Wesley says: “His countenance I could only compare to that which I saw in Drury Lane thirty years ago, of one of the ruffians in ‘Macbeth.’ Finding there was no room for me to speak, I retired into my cabin, and left him to Mr. Hopper.” Hopper adds: “God stopped his mouth, and he was confounded.”[94] Jonah was on board; and, after being tossed by a tremendous storm for two and twenty hours, the Methodist itinerants were thankful to get back to the bay that they had left.
On landing, Wesley preached to “a room full of men, daubed with gold and silver,” some of whom “rose up and went away railing and blaspheming.” The next night, he was about to preach again, when Griffith, at the head of a drunken rabble, burst open both the outer and inner doors, struck Wesley’s host, kicked the poor man’s wife, and, with twenty full mouthed oaths and curses, demanded, “Where is the parson?” Wesley was locked in another room, the door of which Griffith broke. The man was far too big to be a climber; but, notwithstanding this, impelled by his bad passions, he mounted a chair to search for Wesley on the top of the bed tester; but the burly detective fell down backwards, and then with his troop departed. Wesley having descended to a lower room, and spent half an hour in prayer with a small company of poor people gathered for the purpose, Griffith and his gang again assembled. Griffith burst into the house; a young girl, standing in the passage with a pail of water, drenched him from head to foot, and made the bully cry “Murder! murder!” Another locked the door, when, finding himself a prisoner, the poor wretch had to beg most piteously to be released, and to give his word of honour, that he and his companions would quietly decamp.
At length, after a detention which had severely taxed Wesley’s patience, he and Hopper again embarked, and on April 6 arrived safe at Dublin.
To his great annoyance, he found that, during his absence, the Dublin society had been beguiled by a man of the name of Roger Ball, who had been employed to preach to the Dublin congregations, and had been domiciled as a member of Wesley’s family. The man was an antinomian of the worst description, a crafty debauchee, full of deceit, and holding the most abominable errors, by means of which he had done a large amount of mischief. Some were disposed to give up the sacrament; and all were inclined to drop the Tuesday and Thursday preaching, on the ground that “the dear Lamb is the only teacher.” For years, this infamous man hung upon the skirts of the Methodist societies.
Six days after his arrival in Dublin, Wesley had an unexpected interview with a woman of great, though unenviable fame. Lætitia Pilkington was the daughter of a Dublin physician, and was born in that city, in 1712. Her sprightliness and charms attracted numerous admirers, and among others, the Rev. Matthew Pilkington, author of a well known volume of miscellanies. To this gentleman she was married. Dissension soon sprung up, which ended in separation. She then fell into a licentious life, and once was in the Marshalsea for debt. Colley Cibber obtained her release from prison, and procured her a subscription of fifteen guineas, with which she opened a book shop in St. James’s Street. She was the author of a comedy, called “The Turkish Court”; a tragedy, entitled “The Roman Father”; and also another piece, “The Trial of Constancy,” and other poems. Her most famous production, however, was her own Life, in two volumes, written with indecent freedom, but shrewd and entertaining, and displaying extensive knowledge of the world. Dean Swift was one of her intimate friends, and had a high opinion of her intellectual faculties. Her memory was remarkable, if it be true, as stated, that she was able to repeat almost the whole of Shakspeare by heart.
These particulars will give increasing interest to the following extract from Wesley’s Journal: “1750. April 12.—I breakfasted with one of the society, and found she had a lodger I little thought of. It was the famous Mrs. Pilkington, who soon made an excuse for following me upstairs. I talked with her seriously about an hour; we then sang, ‘Happy Magdalene.’ She appeared to be exceedingly struck: how long the impression may last, God knows.”
Mrs. Pilkington was now thirty-eight years of age. Five months afterwards she died.
Having spent thirteen days in Dublin, Wesley set out, on the 19th of April, on a country excursion. At Portarlington, he preached to almost all the gentry in the town. At Mountmellick, he found the society much increased in grace, and yet lessened in number; a case which he thought was without a parallel. At Tullamore, many of his congregation were drunk; but the bulk paid great attention. He rebuked the society for their lukewarmness and covetousness; and had the pleasure of seeing them evince signs of penitence. At Tyrrell’s Pass, he found a great part of the society “walking in the light, and praising God all the day long.” At Cooley-lough, he preached to backsliders. In the midst of the service at Athlone, a man passed by on a fine prancing horse, which drew off a large part of the congregation. Wesley paused, and then raising his voice, said, “If there are any more of you who think it is of more concern to see a dancing horse than to hear the gospel of Christ, pray go after them.” The renegades heard the rebuke; and the majority at once returned. At Aghrim, he preached “to a well meaning, sleepy people,” and “strove to shake some of them out of sleep by preaching as sharply as he could.” At Nenagh, he preached in the assembly room. At Limerick, he “told the society freely and plainly of their faults.” At Killdorrery, a clergyman would talk with him whether he would or not; and this made him too late for preaching at Rathcormuck in the evening.
Here let us pause for a moment. The clergyman at Rathcormuck was the Rev. Richard Lloyd, who, twelve months before, had permitted Wesley to preach in his pulpit, and had shown him great attention. On this occasion, likewise, there was the same brotherly affection. It so happened, that, at the time of Wesley’s visit, there was an Irish funeral. An immense crowd of people had assembled, to do honour to the dead; Mr. Lloyd read part of the burial service in the church; after which Wesley preached; and, as soon as his discourse was ended, the customary Irish howl was given. Wesley writes: “It was not a song, but a dismal, inarticulate yell, set up at the grave by four shrill voiced women, who were hired for that purpose. But I saw not one that shed a tear; for that, it seems, was not in their bargain.”
Mr. Lloyd got into trouble by his allowing Wesley to occupy his church. The neighbouring clergy complained to the bishop. The bishop directed Mr. Davies, the archdeacon, to deliver to Lloyd an episcopal order, that he must not “suffer any person to preach in his church, who was not a licensed preacher of that or the neighbouring diocese.” In a long letter to the bishop, dated “July 4, 1750,” and sent as an answer to his order, Mr. Lloyd remarks:—
“I confess that Mr. Wesley has preached (though seldomer than has been wished) in my church. And I thought, that a fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford, who is admitted to preach before the university there, and has preached in many churches in London, and other parts of England, as also in Dublin, might be permitted to preach here also.” He adds: “The mobs at Cork, and some other places in this kingdom, have obliged the Methodists to seek the protection of government, which undoubtedly they will have. Several of them, of good fortunes, to escape the persecution, are preparing to settle in England; and, because the clergy are supposed to have encouraged it, numbers of others resolve to quit our church. At this rate, we may, in a short time, have only the refuse left. Religion, my lord, is now at a very low ebb in the world; and we can scarce see the outward form of it remaining. But corrupt as the world is, it is thought better that the devil should reign, than that Mr. Wesley should preach, especially in a church.”
On the same day, the bishop answered as follows:—
“CLOYNE, _July 4, 1750_.
“REVEREND SIR,—I have that opinion of your prudence, that I doubt not you will be cautious whom you admit into your pulpit; and that you will avoid doing or countenancing anything that may offend your brethren of the clergy, or give occasion to mobs and riots.
“I am, reverend sir, your faithful brother and humble servant,
“G. CLOYNE.”[95]
Blarney seemed to succeed when peremptoriness had failed; Wesley had preached for the last time in Rathcormuck church.
Leaving Rathcormuck on May 19, Wesley rode on to Cork; and, at eight o’clock the next morning (Sunday), had a large and deeply attentive congregation in Hammond’s Marsh. Wesley declares, that he had “seldom seen a more quiet and orderly assembly at any church in England or Ireland.” He designed to preach in the marsh again at night; but, during the afternoon, received a message from the mayor, Mr. Crone, that he would have no more mobs and riots; and that, if Wesley attempted to carry out his purpose, he would be prepared for him. Wesley, not wishful to give offence, relinquished his purpose of preaching out of doors, and conducted the evening service in the chapel; but no sooner had he commenced doing so than his mightiness, the mayor, came with the town drummers, and an immense rabble, and continued drumming as long as Wesley continued preaching. On leaving the chapel, Wesley was hemmed in by the mayor’s mob. Observing a serjeant standing by, Wesley desired him to keep the king’s peace. The king’s officer replied, “Sir, I have no orders to do that.” And so, amid all sorts of missiles, the poor, harmless parson, had to make his way, through a brutish crowd, over Dant’s Bridge, to the house of Mr. Jenkins. Some of the congregation were more roughly handled, particularly Mr. Jones, who was covered with filth, and escaped with his life almost by miracle.
The next day Wesley rode to Bandon; but, for four hours in the afternoon, the mob of Cork marched in grand procession, and then burnt him in effigy.
The day after, May 22, the mob and drummers met at the house of John Stockdale, the tallowchandler, whom they had nearly murdered twelve months before, and whose wife was then abused most brutally. The mayor was sent for, and came with a company of soldiers. Addressing the mob, he said: “Lads, once, twice, thrice, I bid you go home; now I have done”; and away he went, taking the soldiers with him. Of course the “lads” knew how to interpret his worship’s sham loyalty, and, accordingly, at once proceeded to smash all Stockdale’s windows.
On the following day, May 23, the infuriated crowd still patrolled the streets, abused all that were called Methodists, and threatened to murder them, and to pull down their houses. On the 24th, they again assaulted Stockdale’s dwelling; broke down the boards he had nailed up against his windows; destroyed the window frames and shutters; and damaged a considerable part of his stock in trade. On the 25th Roger O’Ferrall put up an advertisement, at the public Exchange, to the effect that he was ready to march at the head of any rabble, and to pull down all the houses that harboured “swaddlers.”
During this week of misrule and terror, in which not Mr. Crone but king Mob was mayor of Cork, Wesley was peaceably preaching in the town of Bandon; but, on the evening of Saturday the 26th, with a congregation in the main street, twice as large as usual, he was disgracefully interrupted. When he had preached about a quarter of an hour, a drunken clergyman, with a large stick in his hand, placed himself by the side of Wesley, and began a preconcerted disturbance; but, before he had uttered a dozen words, three resolute women seized him, pulled him into a house, expostulated with him, and then dismissed him through a garden, where the poor maudlin priest, who had intended to stop Wesley’s mouth, fell in love with one of Wesley’s admirers, who, in order to extricate herself from his brutal embrace, had to repel force by force and to cuff him most soundly. Thus the parson was got rid of, leaving behind, however, three young gents—his friends—all armed with pistols, more dangerous than even his reverence’s shillalah; but the belligerent youths were quietly arrested, by others of Wesley’s audience, and were taken away with more civility than they merited. And, then, to complete this fantastic display of Irish bravery, the last hero in the plot came on with the utmost fury; but “a butcher of the town, not a Methodist, used him as he would an ox, bestowing one or two lusty blows upon his head, and thus cooled his courage. So,” says Wesley, “I quietly finished my discourse.”
The next day, Sunday, May 27, Wesley preached thrice in Bandon, and wrote a letter to the mayor of Cork, the conclusion of which is worth quoting:—
“I fear God, and honour the king. I earnestly desire to be at peace with all men. I have not willingly given any offence, either to the magistrates, the clergy, or any of the inhabitants of the city of Cork; neither do I desire anything of them, but to be treated (I will not say as a clergyman, a gentleman, or a Christian, but) with such justice and humanity as are due to a Jew, a Turk, or a pagan.”
Wesley now turned towards Dublin. One day, he was on horseback, with but an hour or two’s intermission, from five o’clock in the morning till nearly eleven o’clock at night; and yet only five hours after this, he again set out, and made the longest day’s journey that he ever rode—about ninety miles. At midnight, he came to Aymo, where he wished to sleep; but the woman who kept the inn refused him admittance, and, moreover, let loose four dogs to worry him.
He spent only two days in Dublin, when he began a second visit to the provincial societies. He writes: “June 21.—I returned to Closeland, and preached in the evening to a little, earnest company. Oh who should drag me into a great city, if I did not know there is another world! How gladly could I spend the remainder of a busy life in solitude and retirement.”
At Portarlington, he had the unthankful task of reconciling the differences of two termagant women, who talked for three hours, and grew warmer and warmer, till they were almost distracted. Wesley says: “I perceived there was no remedy but prayer; so a few of us wrestled with God for above two hours.” The result was, after three hours of cavilling and two hours of prayer, anger gave place to love, and the quarrelsome ladies fell upon each other’s neck. Here also, there being no English service, he attended the French church service, and writes: “I have sometimes thought Mr. Whitefield’s action was violent; but he is a mere post to Mr. Calliard.”
Wesley then proceeded to Mountmellick, Montrath, Roscrea, Birr, Tullamore, Athlone, Aghrim, Ahaskra, Longford, Kenagh, and Tyrrell’s Pass. On the 14th of July he got back to Dublin, where he spent the next eight days, and then embarked for England. The day before he sailed, he wrote as follows to his friend, Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell:—
“DUBLIN, _July 21, 1750_.
“DEAR SIR,—I have had so hurrying a time for two or three months, as I scarce ever had before; such a mixture of storms and clear sunshine, of huge applause and huge opposition. Indeed, the Irish, in general, keep no bounds. I think there is not such another nation in Europe, so
‘Impetuous in their love and in their hate.’
“That any of the Methodist preachers are alive is a clear proof of an overruling Providence; for we know not where we are safe. A week or two ago, in a time of perfect peace, twenty people assaulted one of our preachers, and a few that were riding with him, near Limerick. He asked their captain what they intended to do, who calmly answered, ‘To murder you!’ and accordingly presented a pistol, which snapped twice or thrice. Mr. Fenwick then rode away. The other pursued, and fired after him, but could not overtake him. Three of his companions they left for dead. But some neighbouring justice of the peace did not take it well; so they procured the cutthroats to be apprehended; and it is supposed they will be in danger of transportation, though murder is a venial sin in Ireland.
“I am, dear sir,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[96]
Another letter, likewise written in Dublin, though a little out of chronological order, is too important to be omitted. It was addressed to Joseph Cownley, just after Wesley’s arrival in the Irish metropolis, and contains an opinion on preaching, which, in this smooth-tongued age, is well worth pondering.
“DUBLIN, _April 12, 1750_.
“MY DEAR BROTHER,—I doubt you are in a great deal more danger from honour than from dishonour. So it is with me. I always find there is most hazard in sailing upon smooth water. When the winds blow, and the seas rage, even the sleepers will rise and call upon God.
“From Newcastle to London, and from London to Bristol, God is everywhere reviving His work. I find it so now in Dublin, although there has been great imprudence in some, whereby grievous wolves have lately crept in among us, not sparing the flock; by whom some souls have been utterly destroyed, and others wounded, who are not yet recovered.[97] Those who ought to have stood in the gap did not; but I trust they will be wiser for the time to come. After a season, I think it will be highly expedient for you to labour in Ireland again.
“I see a danger you are in, which perhaps you do not see yourself. Is it not most pleasing to me, as well as to you, to be always preaching of the love of God? Without doubt so it is. But yet it would be utterly wrong and unscriptural to preach of nothing else. Let the law always prepare for the gospel. I scarce ever spoke more earnestly here of the love of God in Christ than I did last night; but it was after I had been tearing the unawakened in pieces. Go thou and do likewise. It is true, the love of God in Christ alone feeds His children; but even they are to be guided as well as fed, yea, and often physicked too; and the bulk of our hearers must be purged before they are fed, else we only feed the disease. Beware of all honey. It is the best extreme; but it is an extreme.
“I am your affectionate brother,
“JOHN WESLEY.”[98]
Upon the whole, Wesley was well satisfied with the work in Ireland. He writes: “I had the satisfaction of observing how greatly God had blessed my fellow labourers, and how many sinners were saved from the error of their ways. Many of these had been eminent for all manner of sins. Many had been Roman Catholics; and I suppose the number of these would have been far greater, had not the good protestants, as well as the popish priests, taken true pains to hinder them.”[99]
Wesley’s “fellow labourers,” however, gave him trouble as well as joy. Dr. Whitehead has inserted, in his Life of Wesley, the following extracts of letters, written to Edward and Charles Perronet, during the present year. They seem somewhat testy, and, we incline to think, were written in a querulous frame of mind, to which all men are, more or less, liable. We give them as we find them.
“I have abundance of complaints to make, as well as to hear. I have scarce any one on whom I can depend, when I am a hundred miles off. ’Tis well if I do not run away soon, and leave them to cut and shuffle for themselves. Here” [in Ireland] “is a glorious people; but oh! where are the shepherds? The Society at Cork have fairly sent me word, that they will take care of themselves, and erect themselves into a Dissenting congregation. I am weary of these sons of Zeruiah: they are too hard for me. Charles and you _behave_ as I want you to do; but you cannot, or will not, preach _where_ I desire. Others can and will preach _where_ I desire; but they do not _behave_ as I want them to do. I have a fine time between the one and the other. I think both Charles and you have, in the general, a right sense of what it is to serve as sons in the gospel; and if all our helpers had had the same, the work of God would have prospered better, both in England and Ireland. I have not one preacher with me, and not six in England, whose wills are broken to serve me thus.”[100]
This is a dark picture; but we still think, that, though Wesley’s first helpers were far from perfect, his complaint concerning them is too strongly worded. Biliousness makes even the best men fretful, and it may be fairly supposed that Wesley himself was not free from this.
Wesley’s passage from Dublin to Bristol was stormy and dangerous. There was a combination of wind, thunder, rain, and darkness. The sea ran mountains high. The ship had no goods, and little ballast, and rolled most fearfully. He and Christopher Hopper began to pray; the wind was hushed; the sea fell; the clouds dispersed; and, on July 24, they arrived in safety.
Ten days before his arrival, a long and most scandalous letter, of nearly three folio columns, was published in _The Bristol Weekly Intelligencer_; but was far too scurrilous to be answered. Some parts of it are literally obscene, and must not be quoted. The following are among the most mildly expressed charges. The “gifted itinerants,” who “had been bred up as tailors, masons, colliers, tinkers, and sow-gelders,” made it their “business to talk about the other world, in order to maintain themselves in this.” They were “of a gloomy temper, and rueful countenance,” holding the doctrines, that “the Deity is an arbitrary being; that positive institutions are more obligatory than moral duties; and that man is not a free agent, but a mere machine.” Their followers were—(1) The most ignorant and credulous, who were “apt to admire everything that was new, surprising, and mysterious”; (2) the old, melancholy, and sick, who were ready to trust any one, that could, with confidence, promise to put them in a way of safety; (3) notorious bad livers, who made a great noise about religion, hoping to be happy hereafter without being good here; and (4) the female sex, who received the preachers very kindly into their houses, and, for their sakes, neglected and left their husbands and their families. In their preaching, the itinerants “interlarded their miscellaneous thoughts with a whole effusion of Scripture texts, without regard to their just sense or proper application; they roared, raved, thundered, and stunned their congregations, using every variation of voice, and all manner of bodily agitations, and attributed the whole to the powerful operations of the Holy Ghost. Their proper friends were the Jesuits, and they opposed peace and order, and a regular government in church and state. They bred ill opinions about the clergy, by insinuating that they had more regard for their tithes than for their flocks, their pleasures than their prayers; and that they strove more for good livings than for eternal life.”
Such are meek specimens of the long letter published in the midst of the Bristol Methodists.
Wesley spent six days at Bristol, during which he preached at Point’s Pool, “in the midst of the butchers, and all the rebel rout that neither fear God nor reverence man.” He was greatly disheartened at finding the Kingswood family considerably lessened. “I wonder,” he writes, “how I am withheld from dropping the whole design; so many difficulties have continually attended it.”
On July 30, he set out for Shepton-Mallet, and, for five hours, rode through an incessant rain and a furious wind, till he was “drenched to the very soles of his feet.” Next day, he came to Shaftesbury, and preached to a crowded congregation, including “the chief opposers of John Haime; but none stirred, none spoke, none smiled; many were in tears; and many others were filled with joy unspeakable.”
He then proceeded, by way of Collumpton, to Tiverton, to him a sacred place as containing the ashes of his brother Samuel. He preached in the market place. One of his hearers was Miss Sampson, a young lady of five and twenty, the daughter of a Baptist minister. She became one of the first members of the Tiverton society; married James Cotty, an itinerant preacher; and died in peace on New Year’s day, 1819.[101] Tiverton was a place which Wesley often visited, and sometimes (as we shall see hereafter) a place which gave him not the most courteous welcome.
Leaving Tiverton, he went to Cornwall, and found that, throughout the entire county, the societies had “suffered great loss for want of discipline.” The largest society was at St. Just, and contained a “greater proportion of believers” than he had found in any other society in the kingdom. It was during this visit of three weeks’ continuance, that the first watchnight was held in Cornwall. He preached at least thirty times, held a quarterly meeting at St. Ives, at which were present the stewards of all the Cornish societies; and, besides other books, read what he calls an “odd one,” entitled “The General Delusion of Christians with regard to Prophecy”; and was convinced of what he had long suspected: “(1) That the Montanists, in the second and third centuries were real, scriptural Christians;[102] and (2) that the grand reason why the miraculous gifts were so soon withdrawn, was, not only that faith and holiness were well-nigh lost, but that dry, formal, orthodox men began even to ridicule whatever gifts they had not themselves; and to deny them all, as either madness or imposture.”
In returning, he called again at Tiverton, where the meadow in which he preached “was full from side to side, and many stood in the gardens and orchards round.” At Hillfarrance, “three or four boors would have been rude if they durst; but the odds against them was too great.” At Bridgewater, he had “a well behaved company.” At Shaftesbury, a constable came, and said, “Sir, the mayor discharges you from preaching in this borough any more.” Wesley replied, “While King George gives me leave to preach, I shall not ask leave of the mayor of Shaftesbury.” At Salisbury, he preached in the chapel which formerly was Westley Hall’s, a poor woman endeavouring to interrupt by uttering an inarticulate and dismal yell. Behaviour like this was now, at Salisbury, of common occurrence; the misconduct of Hall afforded the children of darkness an occasion of triumph. The poor Methodists were loaded with infamy and insults on his account. One of them was Mrs. Barbara Hunt, who, after a membership of sixty-three years, fell asleep in Jesus, on July 22, 1813.[103] From Salisbury, Wesley proceeded to Winterburn and to Reading, and, on September 8, after a six months’ absence, got back to London.
A week later, he wrote: “September 15.—I read a short ‘Narrative of Count Zinzendorf’s Life, written by himself.’ Was there ever such a Proteus under the sun as this Lord Freydeck, Domine de Thurstain, etc., etc.? For he has almost as many names as he has faces or shapes. O when will he learn (with all his learning) simplicity and godly sincerity? When will he be an upright follower of the Lamb, so that no guile may be found in his mouth?”
To some this language may seem somewhat harsh; but was it so? Take the commencement of a letter which Zinzendorf addressed to the Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1749. “We, Lewis, by Divine providence, bishop, Liturgus, and Ordinary of the churches known by the name of the Brethren; and, under the auspices of the same, Advocate during life, with full power over the hierarchy of the Slavonic Unity; Custos Rotulorum, and Prolocutor both of the general Synod and of the Tropus of instruction; by these presents declare,” etc. Or take the following from Spangenberg, who says he thus enumerates all the titles of the count, because he not unfrequently availed himself of them:—“The individual whose character I have attempted to pourtray, was Nicolas Lewis, Count and Lord of Zinzendorf and Pottendorf, lord of the baronies of Freydeck, Schöneck, Thurnstein, and the vale of Wachovia, lord of the manor of Upper, Middle, and Lower Bertholdsdorf, Hereditary Warden of the Chace to his imperial Roman majesty, in the Duchy of Austria, below the Ens, and at one time Aulic and Justicial Counsellor to the Elector of Saxony.” Compare this sickening bombast with Wesley’s most flattering description of himself: “John Wesley, M.A., Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford.” Unfortunately we shall have to return to this high-flown German gentleman.
It seems to have been some time during the present year, that the Methodists of London began to occupy the French church, in Grey Eagle Street, Spitalfields. This chapel had been built by the French protestant refugees, and is said to have had for its minister, from 1700 to 1705, the eminent French protestant preacher, James Saurin. It is now a part of the brewery of Truman, Buxton, and Hanbury.[104] Here, on September 21, Wesley held a watchnight, and remarks: “I often wonder at the peculiar providence of God on these occasions. I do not know that, in so many years, one person has ever been hurt, either in London, Bristol, or Dublin, in going so late in the night to and from all parts of the town.”
Wesley’s stay in London was of short duration. On September 24, he left for Kingswood, where he spent a month in revising and preparing for the school the works following: Parochial Antiquities, by White Kennet, bishop of Peterborough; Grecian Antiquities, by Archbishop Potter; and Hebrew Antiquities, by Mr. Lewis. He also wrote, at this time, his “Short History of England,” and his “Short Roman History”; and nearly finished his abridgment of Cave’s Primitive Christianity, which he had begun about two years before. On October 24, he returned to London, and here, with the exception of short journeys to Windsor, Canterbury, and Leigh, he remained till the year was ended.
His publications, during 1750, were as follows.—
1. “Desiderii Erasmi Colloquia Selecta. In Usum Juventutis Christianæ. Edidit Ecclesiæ Anglicanæ Presbyter.” 12mo, 85 pages.
2. “Phædri Fabulæ Selectæ. In Usum Juventutis Christianæ. Edidit Ecclesiæ Anglicanæ Presbyter.” 12mo, 35 pages.
3. “A Compendium of Logic.” 12mo, 33 pages. This was a translation of Dr. Henry Aldrich’s “Artis Logicæ Compendium. Oxon: 1691” [8vo]. “Logic,” says Wesley, “is the art of apprehending things clearly, judging truly, and reasoning conclusively. What is it, viewed in another light, but the art of learning and teaching; whether by convincing or persuading? What is there, then, in the whole compass of science, to be desired in comparison of it? It is good for this, at least (wherever it is understood), to make people talk less; by showing them both what is, and what is not, to the point; and how extremely hard it is to prove anything.”[105] It is well known, that Wesley himself was an adept in the art of logic. “For several years,” says he, “I was moderator in the disputations which were held six times a week at Lincoln College, in Oxford. I could not avoid acquiring hereby some degree of expertness in arguing; and especially in discerning and pointing out well covered and plausible fallacies. I have since found abundant reason to praise God for giving me this honest art. By this, when men have hedged me in by what they called demonstrations, I have been many times able to dash them in pieces; in spite of all its covers, to touch the very point where the fallacy lay; and it flew open in a moment.”[106]
All the works, already mentioned, were chiefly designed for the use of Kingswood school. Those that follow were of a different kind.
4. “Letter to the Rev. Mr. Bailey, of Cork, in answer to a letter to the Rev. John Wesley.” 12mo, 36 pages. Wesley handles Bailey with deserved severity, telling him, that many of his accusations are no more likely to be credited than that of a wise friend of his, who said “the Methodists were a people who placed all their religion in wearing long whiskers.” Bailey’s slanderous charges were of the coarsest kind. The Methodist preachers were “a parcel of vagabond, illiterate babblers, who amused the populace with nonsense, ribaldry, and blasphemy, and were not capable of writing orthography or good sense.” Wesley is called a “hairbrained enthusiast,” and is accused “of frontless assurance, and a well dissembled hypocrisy”; of “promoting the cause of arbitrary popish power”; of “robbing and plundering the poor, so as to leave them neither bread to eat, nor raiment to put on”; and of “being the cause of all that Butler had done.” Such a slanderer had no claim to mercy. “Never,” says Wesley, “was anything so ill judged as for you to ask, ‘Does Christianity encourage its professors to make use of lies, invectives, or low, mean abuse, and scurrility, to carry on its interests?’ No, sir, it does not. I disclaim and abhor every weapon of this kind. But with these have the Methodist preachers been opposed in Cork above any other place. In England, in all Ireland, have I neither heard nor read any like those gross, palpable lies, those low Billingsgate invectives, and that inexpressibly mean abuse, and base scurrility, which the opposers of Methodism have continually made use of, and which has been the strength of their cause from the beginning.”
5. “A Short Address to the Inhabitants of Ireland. Occasioned by some late occurrences. Dublin: 1750.” 12mo, eight pages. Wesley, in this small tract, answers three questions concerning the Methodists, or, as the Irish called them, Swaddlers—1. What are the Methodists? 2. What do they teach? 3. What are the effects of their teaching?
6. “A Letter to the Author of the ‘Enthusiasm of the Methodists and Papists compared.’” 12mo, 44 pages.
Lavington, bishop of Exeter, was the author here addressed. Early in 1749 he published the first part of his work, and it is this only which Wesley answers. In his preface, the bishop tells his readers, that the Methodists are “a set of pretended reformers,—a dangerous and presumptuous sect, animated with an enthusiastical and fanatical spirit;” and that his object is “to draw a comparison between the wild and pernicious enthusiasms of some of the most eminent saints of the popish communion, and those of the Methodists in our own country.” He further alleges, that the Methodists are a people of “sanctified singularities, low fooleries, and high pretensions; they are doing the papists’ work for them, and agree with them in some of their principles; their heads are filled with much the same grand projects, and they are driven on in the same wild manner,—not perhaps from compact and design, but from a similar configuration and texture of the brain, or the fumes of imagination producing similar effects.” The preachers were “strolling predicants, of affected phrases, fantastical and unintelligible notions, whimsical strictnesses, and loud exclamations. The windmill indeed was in all their heads. Every flash of zeal and devotion,—every wild pretension, scheme, tenet, and overbearing dictate,—impulses, impressions, feelings, impetuous transports and raptures,—intoxicating vapours and fumes of imagination,—phantoms of a crazy brain, and uncouth effects of a distempered mind or body,—their sleeping or waking dreams,—their actions and passions,—all were ascribed, with an amazing presumption, to the extraordinary interposition of heaven, setting its seal to their mission.”
In illustration of all this, Whitefield and Wesley are treated with the grossest ridicule.
Whitefield replied to Lavington at once, and published his pamphlet in the month of May, with the title: “Some Remarks on a Pamphlet, entitled, The Enthusiasm of Methodists and Papists compared; wherein several mistakes in some parts of his past writings and conduct are acknowledged, and his present sentiments concerning the Methodists explained.” 8vo, 48 pages.
In September following, another reply was published, namely, “Some Remarks on the Enthusiasm of Methodists and Papists compared. By Vincent Perronet, A.M.” Price threepence.[107]
Limited space prevents any further notice of these productions; except to say, that both are ably written, and evince a Christian spirit.
Wesley’s reply was finished at Canterbury on the 1st of February, 1750, and was published soon afterwards. Like most of his other writings, it is as brief as he could make it. Wesley was too busy to compose elaborate answers to the attacks of his opponents. Besides, had it been otherwise, his passion for saying all he wished to say in as few words as possible, would, under any circumstances, have prevented him from using the verbosity of others. Lavington’s pamphlet was anonymous; but there was little doubt respecting its author. Though a bishop, his composition is loose and faulty, and is characterized by the most glaring grammatical mistakes. He might be a punster and buffoon; but his performance does him no honour as a scholar. If the blunders in his pamphlet had been found in his youthful essays, they would have been more likely to have secured him a flagellation in the Winchester school, where it was his privilege to be, than to obtain the applause of his tutors and friends. His gift was not genius, nor yet grace; but a sort of merry-andrewism, more laughable than learned, and more suited for a stage than for a bishop’s throne.
Wesley tells him, that it is well he hides his name; otherwise he would be obliged to hide his face; for some of his sentences are neither sense nor grammar. He writes: “I must beg you, sir, in your third part, to inform your reader, that whenever any solecism or mangled sentences appear in the quotations from my writings, they are not chargeable upon me; that if the sense be mine (which is not always), yet I lay no claim to the manner of expression; the English is all your own.”
Wesley’s letter was addressed to an anonymous author; but that author was a bishop, and for a bishop to be lectured about his bad English was a pill which Lavington must have found difficult to swallow. The next quotation, however, must have been bitterer still.
“You proceed to prove my enthusiasm from my notions of conversion. And here great allowances are to be made, because you are talking of things quite out of your sphere; you are got into an unknown world! Do you know what conversion is? ‘Yes; it is to start up perfect men at once’ (page 41). Indeed, sir, it is not. A man is usually converted long before he is a perfect man. It is probable most of the Ephesians to whom St. Paul directed his epistle were converted. Yet they were not ‘come’ (few if any), ‘to a perfect man, to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.’ I do not, sir, indeed I do not, undertake to make you understand these things. I am not so vain as to think it is in my power. It is the utmost of my hope to convince you, that you understand just nothing about them.”
The following is Wesley’s concluding paragraph.
“Any scribbler, with a middling share of low wit, not encumbered with good nature or modesty, may raise a laugh on those whom he cannot confute, and run them down whom he dares not look in the face. By this means, even a comparer of Methodists and papists may blaspheme the great work of God, not only without blame, but with applause; at least, from readers of his own stamp. But it is high time, sir, you should leave your skulking place. Come out, and let us look each other in the face. I have little leisure, and less inclination, for controversy. Yet I promise, if you will set your name to your third part, I will answer all that shall concern me, in that, as well as the preceding. Till then,
“I remain, sir,
“Your friend and well wisher,
“JOHN WESLEY.”
This was galling; the bishop felt it so; and, as we shall see hereafter, allowed his indignation to boil over. Southey says, that Wesley did not treat Bishop Lavington with the urbanity which he usually displayed towards his opponents. This is scarcely true; but if it were, his grace of Exeter deserved all he got. We regret, that we shall be obliged to renew acquaintance with him. Meanwhile, let us briefly say, that this buffooning bishop was born at Mildenhall in 1683. On leaving the school at Winchester, he was removed to New College, Oxford, where he graduated for the civil law, and obtained a fellowship. At the age of thirty-four, he was made rector of Hayford Warren; then prebendary of Worcester; then canon of St. Paul’s; and then bishop of Exeter. He died on the 13th of September, 1762; exactly fifteen days after the following entry in Wesley’s journal:—
“Sunday, August 29, 1762.—I preached, at eight, on Southernhay Green” [Exeter] “to an extremely quiet congregation. At the cathedral, we had an useful sermon, and the whole service was performed with great seriousness and decency. Such an organ I never saw or heard before, so large, beautiful, and so finely toned; and the music of ‘Glory be to God in the highest,’ I think, exceeded the ‘Messiah’ itself. I was well pleased to partake of the Lord’s supper with my old opponent, Bishop Lavington. O may we sit down together in the kingdom of our Father!”
1751.
[Sidenote: 1751 Age 48]
The year upon which we are now entering was one of vast anxiety and trouble, and, of course, like previous years, was characterized by unceasing activity on the part of the great chiefs of the Methodist movement. Charles Wesley was from four to five months in London, about the same in Bristol, and spent the rest in an important visit to the numerous societies in the midland counties and the north of England. Whitefield gave the first two months of the year to the metropolis, the next three to the west of England and to Wales, more than two to Ireland and Scotland, and then, in August, set sail for America. Wesley himself spent eight months in itinerancy, and the rest in London.
Moravianism was more than ever a _vexata quæstio_. Whitefield, in a letter dated March 30, 1751, remarks:—“I doubt not but there are many holy souls among the Moravians; but their not preaching the law, either as a _schoolmaster_ to show us our need of Christ, or as a _rule of life_, after we have closed with Him, is what I can in nowise concur with. These their two grand mistakes, together with their unscriptural expressions in their hymns, and several superstitious fopperies lately intruded among them, make me think they are sadly departed from the simplicity of the gospel.”[108]
A friend, writing to Wesley, at the commencement of the year, observes:—
“No doubt God had wise ends in permitting the _Unitas Fratrum_ to appear, just as the people of God began to unite together; but we cannot fathom His designs. Very probably we should have been now a very different people from what we are, had we had only our own countrymen to cope with. We should then have set the plain gospel of Christ against what is palpably another gospel. But this subtle poison has more or less infected almost all among us. We would put gospel heads on bodies ready to indulge unholy tempers. Although as a society we stand as clear of joining with the Beast as any other, yet we have not purged out all his leaven; the antinomian leaven is not yet cast out. All our preaching at first was pointed at the heart; and in almost all our private conversation, ‘Do you feel the love of God in your heart? Does His Spirit reign there? Do you walk in the Spirit? Is that mind in you which was in Christ?’ were frequent questions among us. But while these preachers to the heart were going on gloriously in the work of Christ, the false apostles stepped in, laughed at all heart work, and laughed many of us out of our spiritual senses; for, according to them, we were neither to see, hear, feel, nor taste the powers of the world to come, but to rest contented with what was done for us seventeen hundred years ago. ‘The dear Lamb,’ said they, ‘has done all for us; we have nothing to do, but to believe.’ Here was a stroke at the whole work of God in the heart! And ever since, this German spirit has wrought among us, and caused many to rest in a barren, notional faith, void of that inward power of God unto salvation.”
One of the Moravians themselves, who had been the physician in one of their religious houses, and had also been a preacher among them both at home and abroad, and who, with his wife, still attended their services, informed Wesley of his own knowledge of sensual abominations practised by the brethren and sisters at Leeds and Bedford, which, though referred to in Wesley’s Journal, we shall not pollute our pages by printing. No wonder, after Wesley had committed the man’s statement to writing, and had submitted it to him for his own correction, he should exclaim in a burst of sorrowful indignation, “Was there ever so melancholy an account? and what is human nature! How low are they fallen, who were once burning and shining lights, spreading blessings wherever they came!”
Wesley has oft been blamed for speaking far too harshly of his old Moravian friends; but those who blame him are either ignorant of facts like those alluded to above, or they wickedly wink at their existence. Moravianism in England, in 1751, had become, to a great extent, a luscious morsel of antinomian poison; and it was a painful knowledge of this distressing fact, which led Wesley to adopt the course he did.
One pamphlet, published at the close of 1750, has not been mentioned, though there is little doubt that Wesley was its author. His name does not appear; but that was not unusual, for many of his tracts and pamphlets were printed without his name, or with his initials only. The preface is dated “London, October 2, 1750,” though Wesley then had retired for a month to Kingswood, for the purpose of writing books. The style is his to a nicety, and the most incredulous will find it difficult to doubt that Wesley was the writer. The pamphlet was not published in his own edition of his collected works in 1771; but that is not conclusive evidence against its authenticity, for other pamphlets were similarly omitted, as, for instance, his “Extract of Zinzendorf’s Discourses,” seventy-eight pages, and his Zinzendorf’s Hymns, twelve pages. Its title is as follows: “The Contents of a Folio History of the Moravians, or United Brethren, printed in 1749, and privately printed and sold under the title of ‘_Acta Fratrum Unitatis in Anglia_,’ with suitable remarks. Humbly addressed to the Pious of every Protestant Denomination in Europe and America. By a Lover of the Light. London: 1750.” 12mo, 60 pages. On the title page there is the following text:— “While they promise them liberty, they themselves are the servants of corruption.”
Rightly to understand the merits of this peculiar and now extremely scarce publication, it is necessary to look back upon the Moravian history of the previous five years.
As early as 1746, Zinzendorf was anxious to have the Moravians legally acknowledged by the British parliament, and to secure for them a legal standing. To accomplish this, he, with effrontery worthy of a better cause, made friends with Potter, the archbishop of Canterbury; with Sherlock, bishop of London; with Thomas Penn, the proprietor of Pennsylvania; and with General Oglethorpe, governor of Georgia. He succeeded in bringing the cause of the Brethren before the king’s privy council, and, in 1747, contrived to get an act through parliament, exempting the Moravians, in British North America, from taking oaths. But even this was not enough to satisfy Zinzendorf’s ambition. In this act there was only a _tacit_ and _indefinite_ acknowledgment of his church. He wished for more, and, in order to get it, agreed with his friends to petition that the Moravians in England might have the same exemption, as those in the American colonies; and that they should have the further privilege of not bearing arms. The petition stated, that the Brethren were descended from the ancient Bohemian and Moravian church; that, in their doctrinal views, they followed the Augsburg Confession of 1530, and the synod of Berne in 1532; that they consisted of the _threefold_ union of Moravians, Lutherans, and Reformed, or, in other words, the three principal sections of the protestant church; that their proper ecclesiastical title was “_Unitas Fratrum_”; and that, in support of these pretensions, they could adduce, before a parliamentary committee, not fewer than one hundred and thirty-five different documents.
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The life and times of the Rev. John Wesley, M.A., founder of the Methodists. Vol. 2 (of 3)Chapter V: Part III (4)
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