Chapter VIII: Part 8

“In the meantime, you stand sometimes in need of an assistant to
serve tables, and occasionally to fill up a gap. Providence visibly
appointed me to that office many years ago; and, though it no
less evidently called me here, yet I have not been without doubt,
especially for some years past, whether it would not be expedient
that I should resume my place as your deacon; not with any view of
presiding over the Methodists after you, (God knows!) but to save
you a little in your old age, and be in the way of receiving, and
perhaps of doing, more good. I have sometimes considered how shameful
it was that no clergyman should join you, to keep in the Church the
work which the Lord had enabled you to carry on therein; and, as
the little estate I have in my native country is sufficient for my
maintenance, I have thought I would, one day or other, offer you and
the Methodists my _free_ services.

“While my love of retirement, and my dread of appearing upon a
higher stage than that I stand upon here, made me linger, I was
providentially called to do something in Lady Huntingdon’s plan; but,
being shut out there, it appears to me, I am again called to my first
work.

“Nevertheless, I would not leave this place, without a _fuller_
persuasion that the time is quite come. Not that God uses me much
_now_ among my parishioners, but because I have not sufficiently
cleared my conscience from the blood of all men, especially with
regard to ferreting out the poor, and expostulating with the rich,
who make it their business to fly from me. In the meantime, it shall
be my employment to beg the Lord to give me light, and make me
willing to go anywhere or nowhere, to be anything or nothing.

“I have laid my pen aside for some time; nevertheless, I resumed it
last week, at your brother’s request, to go on with my treatise on
Christian perfection. I have made some alterations in the sheets you
have seen, and hope to have a few more ready for your correction,
against the time you come this way. How deep is the subject! What
need have I of the Spirit, to search the deep things of God! Help me
by your prayers, till you can help me by word of mouth.

“I am, reverend and dear sir, your willing, though unprofitable,
servant in the gospel,

“JOHN FLETCHER.”[186]

At the beginning of July, Wesley had an interview with Fletcher at Madeley, and, on reaching London, sent him the following hitherto unpublished letter.

“LEWISHAM, _July 21, 1773_.

“DEAR SIR,--It was a great satisfaction to me, that I had the
opportunity, which I so long desired, of spending a little time
with you. And I really think it would answer many gracious designs
of Providence were we to spend a little more time together. It
might be of great advantage both to ourselves and the people, who
may otherwise soon be as sheep without a shepherd. You say indeed,
‘whenever it pleases God to call me away, you will do all you can to
help them.’ But will it not then be too late? You may then expect
grievous wolves to break in on every side; and many to arise from
among themselves, speaking perverse things. Both the one and the
other stand in awe of me, and do not care to encounter me; so that
I am able, whether they will or no, to deliver the flock into your
hands. But no one else is. And it seems, this is the very time when
it may be done with the least difficulty. Just now the minds of the
people in general are, on account of the Checks, greatly prejudiced
in your favour. Should we not discern the providential time? Should
we stay till the impression is worn away? Just now, we have an
opportunity of breaking the ice, of making a little trial. Mr.
Richardson is desirous of making an exchange with you, and spending
two or three weeks at Madeley. This might be done either now, or in
October, when I hope to return from Bristol. And till something of
this kind is done, you will not have that στοργη for the people
which alone can make your labour light in spending and being spent
for them. Methinks ’tis pity we should lose any time; for what a
vapour is life!

“I am, dear sir, your affectionate friend and brother,

JOHN WESLEY.”

So the matter ended, though Wesley was far from satisfied. He writes: “I can never believe it was the will of God, that such a burning and shining light should be hid under a bushel. No; instead of being confined to a country village, it ought to have shone in every corner of our land. He was full as much called to sound an alarm through all the nation as Mr. Whitefield himself; nay, abundantly more so; seeing he was far better qualified for that important work. He had a far more striking person; equal good breeding; an equally winning address; together with a richer flow of fancy; a stronger understanding; a far greater treasure of learning, both in languages, philosophy, philology, and divinity; and, above all, a more deep and constant communion with the Father, and with the Son Jesus Christ.”[187]

No wonder that Wesley was anxious for a suitable successor to take his place. The work of which, in the hand of God, he was the principal supporter, had not only spread throughout the three kingdoms, but was rapidly extending beyond the Atlantic. Already he had four of his itinerants in America; and, aged and feeble in health though he was, he still entertained the thought of visiting that distant continent.[188] Among others, the Rev. Mr. Jarratt wrote him, from Virginia, telling him that they had ninety-five parishes in the colony, all, excepting one, supplied with clergymen, but that ninety-three out of the ninety-four ministers appeared to be without “the power and spirit of vital religion.” He thanks him for sending his preachers to America, two of whom, Messrs. Pilmoor and Williams, were now labouring in Virginia; but asks, “What can two or three preachers do in such an extended country as this? Cannot you do something more for us? Cannot you send us a minister of the Church of England, to be stationed in the vacant parish? I wish you could see how matters are among us. This would serve instead of a thousand arguments, to induce you to exert yourself in this affair.”[189]

Even this was not all. During the year, Francis Gilbert wrote to him from Antigua, telling him that “almost the whole island seemed to be stirred up to seek the Lord.” There were large congregations and constant preaching in his brother’s house; and they had, at St. John’s, a society of twenty whites and forty blacks. “Here,” says Mr. Gilbert, “is work enough for three preachers; as almost the entire island seems ripe for the gospel; yet, I cannot desire you to send them yet, seeing the people are not at present able to bear the expenses; for the fire, the hurricane, and the severe droughts have, I suppose, ruined two thirds of the inhabitants.”[190]

Affairs in Scotland were scarcely to Wesley’s mind. Writing to John Bredin, at Aberdeen, he says:

“MY DEAR BROTHER,--Observe and enforce all our rules exactly as
if you were in England, or Ireland. By foolish complaisance our
preachers, in Scotland, have often done harm. Be all a Methodist; and
strongly insist on _full salvation_ to be received _now_ by simple
_faith_.

“I am yours affectionately,

JOHN WESLEY.”[191]

Joseph Benson had been urged to go to America; but Wesley deemed it desirable to send him across the Tweed to put things right in the northern part of the kingdom. “God,” says he, “has made practical divinity necessary, and the devil controversial. Sometimes we must write and preach controversially; but the less the better. I think we have few, if any, of our travelling preachers, that love controversy; but there will always be men whose mouth it is necessary to stop; antinomians and Calvinists in particular. By our long silence, we have done much hurt, both to them and the cause of God. The more you preach abroad, the better; keep to the plain, old Methodist doctrine, laid down in the minutes of the conference. At Trevecca, you were a little warped from this; but it was a right hand error. You will be buried in Scotland, if you sell your mare and sit still. Keep her, and ride continually. Sit not still, at the peril of your soul and body! Billy Thompson never satisfied me on this head, not in the least degree. I say still, we will have travelling preachers in Scotland, or none. Our preachers shall either travel there, as in England, or else stay in England.”[192]

Such were some of the difficulties which this veteran evangelist had to meet. No wonder that he wished for help.

Chapel debts, also, still pressed heavily upon him. Hence the following to Mr. Hopper.

“_February 6, 1773._

“MY DEAR BROTHER,--I agreed last year, though contrary to my
judgment, that we would have no more weekly subscriptions. I
purposed, likewise, in my own mind, to concern myself with the debt
no more. But, upon reflection, it seemed to me, there was one way
still, namely, not to apply to the poor at all, (though I would not
reject any that offered,) but to take the burden on myself, and try
my personal interest with the rich. I began at London, where about
£500 are subscribed. Afterwards, I wrote to many in the country.
Liverpool circuit has subscribed about £100; Bradford circuit £130.
It must be now or never. I do not know that I shall concern myself
with this matter any more. Till now we never had a rational prospect
of clearing the whole debt in one year. Now it may be done. It
certainly will, if our brethren, in other circuits, do as these above
mentioned have done. What I desire of you is to second the letters
I have wrote, encouraging each man of property in your circuit to
exert himself; at least, to send me an answer: this, you know, is
but common civility. Now do what you can; and show that you, my old
friend, are not the last and least in love towards your affectionate
friend and brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”[193]

It is now time to trace Wesley’s wanderings in 1773.

On Sunday evening, March 7, he set out from London to Ireland, taking, for the first time, his carriage with him, which, however, he was deprived of the opportunity of using. He writes: “March 30--I was a little surprised to find the commissioners of the customs would not permit my chaise to be landed, because, they said, the captain of a packet boat had no right to bring over goods. Poor pretence! However, I was more obliged to them than I then knew; for had it come on shore, it would have been utterly spoiled.”

The result was, that Wesley had to hire a chaise instead of riding in his own; a vehicle which at Ballibac ferry went overboard, and, with difficulty, was recovered; and which, on another occasion, it took five hours to drag less than a dozen miles; which, in a third instance, was disabled by the breaking of the hinder axletree; and which, more than once, was in danger of being dashed to pieces by furious mobs.

Everywhere his congregations were large. In many instances, he had whole troops of soldiers to hear him; and nowhere did he meet with any serious disturbance, except at Waterford, where the papists created a riot, in which heavy blows were given; and at Enniskillen, where a mob again and again fell upon the unfortunate carriage, cut it with stones in several places, smashed its windows, and well-nigh covered it with sludge.

Three months were spent in itinerating the sister kingdom. Scores of towns and villages, between Dublin and Galway, Belfast and Cork, were favoured with his ministry; and diversified were the incidents with which he met. At Eyrecourt, the crowd gave him a loud huzza as he passed into the market place to preach. At Clare, for want of other accommodation, he was glad to accept a bed in the soldiers’ barracks. At Castlebar, on finding the “Charter school a picture of slothfulness, nastiness, and desolation; and all the children, not only dirty, but with their stockings hanging about their heels, and in a most disreputable plight, he reported the facts to the trustees at Dublin, with the hope of effecting a reformation.” At Limerick, William Myles, a youth in the seventeenth year of his age, was one of Wesley’s hearers, began to meet in class, and, five years afterwards, became an itinerant preacher.[194] At Armagh, he wrote his invaluable sermon “On Predestination,” preached it at Londonderry, and, at the request of several of the clergy, published it.[195] At Armagh, also, he heard what he had not heard for fifty years,--an anthem in a church. At Lisburn, all his spare time was taken up by poor patients, who came to him for physic. He writes: “What has fashion to do with physic? Why, in Ireland almost as much as with headdress. Blisters, for anything or nothing, were all the fashion when I was in Ireland last. Now the grand fashionable medicine, for twenty diseases, is mercury sublimate! Why is it not a halter, or a pistol? They would cure a little more speedily.”

On the 5th of July, Wesley started for England, having to hold his annual conference in London. He says: “About eleven we crossed Dublin bar, and were at Hoylake the next afternoon. This was the first night I ever lay awake in my life, though I was at ease in body and mind. I believe few can say this: in seventy years I never lost one night’s sleep.”

Wesley reached the metropolis on the 17th of July; and, on the 21st, made the following entry in his journal: “We had our quarterly meeting at London; at which I was surprised to find, that our income does not yet meet our expense. We were again near £200 bad. My private account I find still worse. I have laboured as much as many writers; and all my labour has gained me, in seventy years, a debt of five or six hundred pounds.”

There is some obscurity in this, as will appear from the following correspondence.

“To Messrs. THOMAS BALL and ALEXANDER MATHER.

“LEWISHAM, _February 27, 1772_.[196]

“THE thing which I desire you to do is this, to see that an exact
account be kept of all the books in Great Britain and Ireland,
printed and sold on my account. You comprehend how many particulars
are contained under this general. To do this accurately will require
much thought. But you will bear that burden for God’s sake, and for
the sake of your affectionate brother,

“JOHN WESLEY.”

(Reply.)

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,--I beg to lay before you Mr. Mather’s
account, sent me by letter of the 18th past, of the gross value of
your books, taken in February and March, 1773; viz.:--

£ _s._ _d._
“In London, etc. 3754 4 0
Bristol 4253 4 8
Country 2716 1 8
Cash 183 2 1
Debts 23 2 1
--------------
10929 15 4
Stock in February, 1772 8833 0 7
--------------
£2096 14 9
--------------

“Supposed to be owing in March last to printers, binders, etc., £500.

“I am, reverend sir, your most obedient and dutiful servant,

“THOMAS BALL.

“Examined 21st September, 1773:--THOMAS MARRIOTT,
RICHARD KEMP.”[197]

According to the above statement, Wesley was in debt to printers and binders to the amount of £500; but, at the same time, he was possessed of books whose gross value was nearly £11,000. How to reconcile the discrepancy we hardly know. The facts are furnished as we find them. One thing is certain, there was something wrong. Some have supposed that Wesley’s wife had, by means of false keys, obtained access to the book steward’s cash, and helped herself;[198] but of that there is no conclusive proof; and it is certainly neither generous nor just to assert the thing without proving it. All that we know further is, that poor Samuel Franks, the book steward, a man of great uprightness and earnest piety,[199] but naturally of a sensitive disposition, within a fortnight, fell into a fit of insanity, and hanged himself.[200] Without mentioning this, Wesley writes: “October 6--The rest of the week I made what inquiry I could into the state of my accounts. Some confusion had arisen from the sudden death of my bookkeeper; but it was less than might have been expected.”

Here we must leave the matter. On the supposition that Wesley considered his stock of books not his own, but merely held in trust for the general good, it was quite correct, that, as the result of his literary labours, he was in debt to the amount, as he himself says, “of five or six hundred pounds.” In one respect, he was the possessor of a large amount of property; in another, he was actually in debt.

Wesley’s conference began in London on August 3. He writes: “August 3--Our conference began. I preached mornings as well as evenings; and it was all one. I found myself just as strong as if I had preached but once a day.” Good old simple hearted Samuel Bardsley, then an itinerant of five years’ standing, writes, in a manuscript letter now before us: “I never was at a more comfortable conference. We had a deal of love among us. Dear Mr. Wesley laboured hard. I had the pleasure of hearing him preach twelve times. He said, he had not preached so much at a conference these twenty years, and never was more assisted.”

It was now that Joseph Bradford was received on trial; and that Thomas Olivers was appointed to be Wesley’s travelling companion; honest Bradford taking the place of Olivers a year afterwards, and retaining it for the next eight years. Wesley’s effort to extinguish the chapel debts had resulted in a subscription amounting to £2237. Forty-seven preachers were present, and, “in order to lay a foundation for future union,” signed the following agreement.

“WE whose names are underwritten, being thoroughly convinced of the
necessity of a close union between those whom God is pleased to use
as instruments in this glorious work, in order to preserve this union
between ourselves, are resolved, God being our helper,--

“I. To devote ourselves entirely to God: denying ourselves, taking up
our cross daily, steadily aiming at one thing, to save our own souls,
and them that hear us.

“II. To preach the old Methodist doctrines, and no other, contained
in the minutes of the conferences.

“III. To observe and enforce the whole Methodist discipline, laid
down in the said minutes.”

Wesley had failed in obtaining the consent of Fletcher to be his successor; and, hence, the drawing up and signing of this conferential compact.

On the first Sunday night, after the conference concluded, Wesley set out, by coach, on his accustomed tour to Cornwall, which occupied the next three weeks.

In returning, he spent a month at Bristol, and among the societies round about. On October 6, he started in his chaise, at two o’clock in the morning, and, in the evening, arrived in London; thus, in one winter’s day, driving in his own conveyance a distance of one hundred and fourteen miles. The rest of October, except the Sundays, was spent in what he calls his “little tours,” through the five counties of Bedford, Northampton, Oxford, Buckingham, and Kent.

Ten days, in November, were spent in Norfolk; then he met the London classes; and afterwards went off to Sussex, and then to Kent. The last entry in his year’s itinerary is: “London: December 25, and on the following days, we had many happy opportunities of celebrating the solemn feast days, according to the design of their institution. We concluded the year with a fast day, closed with a solemn watchnight.” Thus, in observing feast and fast days, ended the year 1773. One of these, of course, was Christmas day, another St. Stephen’s, a third St. John’s, and a fourth the Innocents’ day. To some it may seem strange, that Wesley, the Methodist, should observe such festivals as these; but, in such matters, Wesley was still the Churchman. Besides, throughout life, it was one of his most sacred delights to think, not only of the living, but likewise of the dead. On the 12th of June, in this very year of 1773, he wrote a letter, an extract from which is worth preserving.

“It has, in all ages, been allowed, that the communion of saints
extends to those in paradise, as well as those on earth, as they are
all one body, united under one Head; and

‘Can death’s interposing tide
Spirits one in Christ divide?’

“But it is difficult to say, either what kind, or what degree of
union, may be between them. It is not improbable, their fellowship
with us is far more sensible than ours with them. Suppose any of
them are present, they are hid from our eyes, but we are not hid
from their sight. They, no doubt, clearly discern all our words and
actions, if not all our thoughts too. For it is hard to think these
walls of flesh and blood can intercept the view of an angelic being.
But we have, in general, only a faint and indistinct perception of
their presence, unless in some peculiar instances, where it may
answer some gracious ends of Divine Providence. Then it may please
God to permit, that they should be perceptible, either by some of our
outward senses, or by an internal sense, for which human language has
not a name. But I suppose this is not a common blessing. I have known
but few instances of it. To keep up constant and close communion with
God is the most likely mean to obtain this also.”[201]

Up to the present, nothing has been said concerning the progress, in 1773, of the Calvinian controversy. Fletcher’s pen was not idle, but the only works he published were: first, “An Appeal to Matter of Fact and Common Sense; or, a Rational Demonstration of Man’s Corrupt and Lost Estate,” 12mo, 296 pages; and, secondly, “A Dreadful Phenomenon Described and Improved, being a Particular Account of the Earthquake at Madeley, on May 27, 1773:” 12mo, 104 pages. Neither of these, however, had any immediate bearing on the matters in dispute.

On the other side, good old Berridge, of Everton, brought out his “Christian World Unmasked”; which, if full of faults, is, at all events, free from dulness; a book, like its author, often odd, sometimes coarse, but always pious; full of genius, and full of goodness; seasoned with Calvinism’s highest flavour, but entirely free from the personal scurrility so characteristic of others.

Toplady sent nothing to the press; but his private letters were as full of bitterness as ever. “I am told,” he writes, “that Mr. Fletcher has it in contemplation to make an attack on me. He is welcome. I am ready for him. Tenderness has no effect on Mr. Wesley and his pretended _family of love_. For my own part, I shall never attempt to hew such millstones with a feather. They must be served as nettles; press them close, and they cannot sting. Cobbler _Tom_ laments publicly, from his preaching tub (misnamed a pulpit), that such an antinomian as myself should have such crowded auditories, while the preachers of the _pure gospel_ (by which he means _free will_, _merit_, and _perfection_) are so thinly attended. The envy, malice, and fury of Wesley’s party are inconceivable. But, as violently as they hate _me_, I dare not, I cannot hate _them_ in return. I have not so learned Christ. Your idea of Mr. John Wesley and his associates exactly tallies with mine. Abstracted from all warmth, and from all prejudice, I believe him to be the most rancorous hater of the gospel system that ever appeared in England. I except not Pelagius himself. The latter had some remains of modesty, and preserved some appearances of decency; but the former has outlived all pretentions to both.”[202]

Could this impulsive reviler be actually sincere, when he said he durst not, and could not, hate Wesley and his party?

Toplady, so far as printing was concerned, was silent; but Richard Hill begun the year as vigorously as ever, by publishing his “Finishing Stroke; containing some Strictures on the Rev. Mr. Fletcher’s pamphlet, entitled, ‘Logica Genevensis, or a Fourth Check to Antinomianism:’” 8vo, 57 pages. This characteristic piece is dated January 2, 1773. The author confesses, that he had formed a resolution to be silent; but “Logica Genevensis” was too provoking to be passed in silence. This, however, was to be the real “finishing stroke.” Sir Richard writes: “the unfair quotations you have made, and the shocking misrepresentations and calumnies you have been guilty of, will, for the future, prevent me from looking into any of your books, if you should write a thousand volumes. So here the controversy must end; at least, it shall end for me.”

Poor Sir Richard! Such was his resolve; and yet, almost before the printer’s ink was dry, his godly impetuosity sent forth another octavo pamphlet, of the same size as the former one, entitled “Logica Wesleiensis; or the Farrago Double Distilled. With an heroic Poem in Praise of Mr. John Wesley:” 63 pages. Hill, as usual, is angry and vindictive. He tells his readers, that he had never seen Wesley “above four or five times in his life; once in the pulpit at West Street chapel; once at a friend’s house; and once or twice at his own lodgings in Vine Street.” He writes: “I find it just as easy to catch an eel by the tail, as to lay hold of Mr. Wesley for one single moment. Oh, what quirks, quibbles, and evasions does this gentleman descend to, in order to shift off his own inconsistencies!” As a specimen of the writer’s “heroic poem,” we give the following.

“A choice _Preservative_ I have,
The like was never known;
With potions, juleps, drops, and pukes,
Peculiarly my own.

Help _Cobbler_ Tom, and thou Swiss friend,
To lay John Calvin’s ghost;
For what with _cynics_, _bigots_, _bears_,
I fear the day is lost.

We three shall incantations raise,
With _thunderings_, lightnings, hail;
And if the hobgoblin won’t avaunt,
I’ll bring my comet’s tail.”

Sir Richard was not content with this. During the year, he published another octavo pamphlet, of 30 pages, with the wordy title, “Three Letters written by Richard Hill, Esq., to the Rev. J. Fletcher, vicar of Madeley, setting forth Mr. Hill’s Reasons for declining any further Controversy relative to Mr. Wesley’s Principles.”

He states, that he has heard that Fletcher “wishes to have done with controversy;” and upon the strength of this, he has written to his London bookseller to stop the sale of his own publications. He begs pardon for “whatever may have savoured too much of his own spirit”; and says, restraint should be put upon several of Wesley’s preachers, “particularly upon one Perronet, of whose superlatively abusive and insolent little piece Charles Wesley had testified his abhorrence from the pulpit.” He wishes Wesley to be made acquainted with the action he has taken, and says: “If I stop the sale of my books, I hope that of the Four Checks will be stopped also.” He adds, that his mother’s death had recently taken place; and then, at the end of his pamphlet, gives “a proposed title” to Fletcher’s works, and also “A Creed for Arminians and Perfectionists”; the latter signed by “J. F., J. W., and W. S.”

Such is the substance of the three letters, which, in the first instance, were sent to Fletcher privately, and were not intended for publication. By some means, however, the fact of the letters having been written became bruited abroad, and certain hasty logicians deduced the unauthorised inference, that Sir Richard had recanted his Calvinian doctrines. This was too bitter a pill to be swallowed; and, hence, the writer, who was weary of the war, gave his private letters to the public, and attached to them a preface which had better not been penned.

For instance, he speaks of Thomas Olivers as “a journeyman cordwainer, who had written a pamphlet against him, which, though in itself _black of the grain_, was afterwards _lacquered up_, _new soled_, and _heel tapped_ by his master, before it was exposed to sale.” He adds: “I shall not take the least notice of him, or read a line of his composition, any more than, if I was travelling, I would stop to lash, or even order my footman to lash, every impertinent little quadruped in a village, that should come out and bark at me; but would willingly let the contemptible animal have the satisfaction of thinking he had driven me out of sight.”

He then proceeds to accuse Fletcher of “misrepresenting facts,” and of using “artifices, false glosses, pious frauds, declamation, chicanery, and evasion, to throw dust into the eyes of his readers;” and concludes, by saying, that though he cannot read any more of the productions of Fletcher’s pen, and, therefore, cannot write replies to them, yet, notwithstanding all in his letters to the contrary, he shall still keep on sale his “Paris Conversation”; his “Five Letters”; his “Review of Wesley’s Doctrines”; his “Logica Wesleiensis”; and his “Finishing Stroke.”

Such was the position of Sir Richard Hill in 1773. He wished for peace. Why? Because he was vanquished.

What action did Wesley take? On the 1st of April was published, “Some Remarks on Mr. Hill’s Farrago Double Distilled. By John Wesley.”[203] 12mo, 44 pages.

Wesley’s “Remarks” are characterised by his wonted keenness, courtesy, wit, and brevity. In conclusion, he writes:

“I beg leave, in my turn, to give you a few advices. 1. Be calm. Do
not venture into the field again till you are master of your temper.
2. Be good natured. Passion is not commendable; but ill nature still
less. 3. Be courteous. Show good manners, as well as good nature, to
your opponent, of whatever kind. 4. Be merciful. When you have gained
an advantage over your opponent, do not press it to the uttermost.
Remember the honest quaker’s advice to his friend a few years ago:
‘Art thou not content to lay John Wesley upon his back, but thou
wilt tread his guts out?’ 5. In writing, do not consider yourself as
a man of fortune, or take any liberty with others on that account.
Men of sense simply consider what is written; not whether the writer
be a lord or a cobbler. 6. Lastly, Remember, ‘for every idle word
men shall speak, they shall give an account in the day of judgment.’
Remember, ‘by thy words shalt thou be justified; or by thy words
shalt thou be condemned.’”

Wesley’s other publications, in 1773, were nine 12mo volumes of his collected works, making together 3439 pages. In these were included five small works, now first published: namely,--1. “An Extract of Two Discourses on the Conflagration and Renovation of the World: written by James Knight, D.D., late Vicar of St. Sepulchre, London;” in which, by the way, a theory is propounded antagonistic to the millenarian theory, which Wesley countenanced some years before. 2. “An Extract from a Treatise concerning Religious Affections: by the late Rev. Jonathan Edwards.” 3. “A Short Account of John Dillon.” 4. “Instructions for Members of Religious Societies.” 5. “Christian Reflections. Translated from the French.” These “Reflections” are three hundred and thirty-six in number. We give one as a specimen of the rest. “The three greatest punishments which God can inflict on sinners, in this world, are: 1. To let loose their own desires upon them. 2. To let them succeed in all they wish for. And, 3. To suffer them to continue many years in the quiet enjoyment thereof.”

Besides the above, Wesley also published “A Short Roman History.” 12mo, 155 pages.

FOOTNOTES:

[185] Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 355.

[186] Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 259.

[187] Wesley’s Works, vol. xi., p. 288.

[188] Asbury’s Journal, vol. i., p. 72.

[189] _Methodist Magazine_, 1786, p. 397.

[190] _Methodist Magazine_, 1786, p. 567.

[191] _Wesleyan Times_, May 13, 1861.

[192] Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., pp. 391, 392.

[193] Wesley’s Works, vol xii., p. 291.

[194] _Methodist Magazine_, 1831, p. 290.

[195] Ibid. 1782, pp. 505, 565.

[196] Query: ought not this to be 1773?

[197] _Methodist Magazine_, 1842, p. 1013.

[198] Manuscript.

[199] _Methodist Magazine_, 1842, p. 1012.

[200] Manuscript.

[201] _Methodist Magazine_, 1805, p. 520.

[202] Toplady’s Posthumous Works, 1780, pp. 343-346.

[203] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, April 2, 1773.

1774.
Age 71

References have been made to the state of Wesley’s health. His labours had been undiminished, and yet many of his friends had been anxious and alarmed. John Pawson, in an unpublished letter, dated Bristol, October 14, 1773, remarks: “Mr. Wesley has been with us for some time. He seems to be declining very fast; and I think there is great reason to fear that he will not be with us long.” There was sufficient cause for solicitude. Wesley’s pain, during the last three years, must have been acute; and it is perfectly marvellous how he managed, without a murmur, and without abatement, to do the whole of his accustomed work. At the beginning of 1774, the matter reached its crisis. He writes:

“January 4--Three or four years ago, a stumbling horse threw me
forward on the pommel of the saddle. I felt a good deal of pain; but
it soon went off, and I thought of it no more. Some months after, I
observed _testiculum alterum altero duplo majorem esse_. I consulted
a physician; he told me it was a common case, and did not imply any
disease at all. In May twelvemonth, it was grown near as large as
a hen’s egg. Being then at Edinburgh, Dr. Hamilton insisted on my
having the advice of Drs. Gregory and Munro. They immediately saw
it was a hydrocele, and advised me, as soon as I came to London,
to aim at a radical cure, which they judged might be effected in
about sixteen days. When I came to London, I consulted Mr. Wathen.
He advised me--(1) Not to think of a radical cure, which could not
be hoped for, without my lying in one posture fifteen or sixteen
days; and he did not know whether this might not give a wound to my
constitution, which I should never recover. (2) To do nothing while I
continued easy. And this advice I was determined to take. Last month,
the swelling was often painful. So on this day Mr. Wathen performed
the operation, and drew off something more than half a pint of a
thin, yellow, transparent water. With this came out, to his no small
surprise, a pearl of the size of a small shot; which he supposed
might be one cause of the disorder, by occasioning a conflux of
humours to the part.”

Such is Wesley’s own simple statement. The disease was unquestionably a serious one; and, yet, it is a surprising fact, that, only a week after the surgical operation, he was again in harness, and as actively employed as ever. Hence the following: “Tuesday, January 11--I began, at the east end of the town, to visit the society from house to house. I know no branch of the pastoral office which is of greater importance than this. But it is so grievous to flesh and blood, that I can prevail on few, even of our preachers, to undertake it.”

Wesley’s zeal for the extension of his Saviour’s kingdom would hardly let him rest when rest was requisite. His long life was an unbroken scene of gigantic action. He worked as though nothing could be done without his working; and yet no man more practically acknowledged, that all his work, without God’s blessing, would amount to nothing. Hence, not only his own ceaseless prayers for the help and co-operation of his great Master, but also his appointment of fast days to be observed by the thousands of his followers. Many of these are mentioned in his journals, but many were observed without being mentioned. One of these occurred at the time of which we are now writing. “Yesterday,” says Samuel Bardsley, on January 25, 1774, “yesterday I got a letter from Mr. Wesley, informing me that the 28th instant is to be observed as a day of fasting and prayer for the prosperity of the gospel.”[204] Numbers of such days were appointed. No wonder Wesley prospered.

The first two months of 1774 were chiefly spent in London; and, on March 6, Wesley set out on his northern visitation, which, as usual, occupied his time till the conference was held in August. This journey has been so often traversed, that we shall no longer follow Wesley step by step; but merely advert to its chief incidents.

At Wolverhampton he was met by his friend Fletcher, of Madeley, and says: “March 22--At five in the morning I explained that important truth, that God trieth us every moment, weighs all our thoughts, words, and actions, and is pleased or displeased with us, according to our works. I see more and more clearly, that there is a great gulf fixed between us and all those, who, by denying this, sap the very foundation both of inward and outward holiness.”

When he had travelled as far as Congleton, he received intelligence which compelled him to retrace his steps, and go back to Bristol. The entry in the journal of this old man of more than seventy is a curiosity. “Wednesday, March 30--I went on to Congleton, where I received letters, informing me that my presence was necessary at Bristol. So, about one, I took chaise, and reached Bristol about half an hour after one the next day. Having done my business in about two hours, on Friday in the afternoon I reached Congleton again, about a hundred and forty miles from Bristol, no more tired (blessed be God!) than when I left it.” This is marvellous. Here we have a septuagenarian, in feeble health, travelling, not by railway, nor yet by coach, but in his own private chaise, in a wintry month, and on roads not macadamised, a distance of two hundred and eighty miles in about eight-and-forty hours, and then quietly sitting down and, without bombast, but with profound gratitude, recording the fact in the language above given. Can biography furnish a parallel to this? We doubt it.

On Easter day, April 3, Wesley writes: “I went on to Macclesfield, and came just in time (so is the scene changed here) to walk to the old church, with the mayor and the two ministers.”

Here we pause, to notice a man, who afterwards, not only distinguished himself by his pen and ministerial labours, but became one of Wesley’s sincerest and warmest friends.

One of the “two ministers,” referred to in this extract, was David Simpson, now a young man of twenty-eight. Born at Ingleby Arncliffe, in Yorkshire, and educated at Northallerton, and at Scorton, he, in 1766, entered St. John’s college, Cambridge, where he became acquainted with Rowland Hill, and a select society of devout collegians, and was converted. On leaving college, he was ordained, and accepted the curacy of Ramsden in Essex. He then removed to Buckingham, where, by his extempore preaching of justification by faith, and the nature and necessity of the new birth, he provoked alike the hostility of the surrounding clergy and the sneers of unconverted laics. About the year 1772, he accepted the invitation of Charles Roe, Esq., to his residence at Macclesfield, and soon became curate of what Wesley calls “the old church,” but which, at that period, was the only church that Macclesfield possessed. Here he married Miss Waldy, of Yarm, a young lady of distinguished excellence and piety, who died within six months after Wesley’s visit, leaving to her young husband the care of an infant daughter. Mr. Simpson’s faithful ministry was as much disliked at Macclesfield as it had been at Buckingham. Complaints of his Methodism were made to his diocesan, and twice he was suspended for preaching doctrines, to which, as a clergyman of the Church of England, he had solemnly subscribed. Expelled from the pulpit of the church, he began to preach in the adjacent towns and villages. Just at this juncture, the prime curacy of the church became vacant, and, the nomination being an appendage to the office of the mayor for the time being, Mr. Gould made him the offer, and had the pleasure of seeing it accepted. To prevent Simpson’s induction, a petition, with seventeen articles of accusation, was transmitted to the bishop of Chester, all of which might be reduced to one, namely, that he was a Methodist. In reply, he says, in a letter to his lordship: “This is true. My method is to preach the great truths of the gospel, in as plain, and earnest, and affectionate a manner as I am able. Some, hereby, have become seriously concerned about their salvation. The change is soon discovered; they meet with one or another, who invite them to attend the meetings of the Methodists, by which their number” (the Methodists) “is increased to a considerable degree. This is the truth. I own the fact. I confess myself unequal to the difficulty. What would your lordship advise?” Such was the conflict. Before it came to an issue, Mr. Roe, at his own expense, erected a church, of which Mr. Simpson became incumbent in 1775, relinquishing, at the same time, the curacy which had been a bone of contention. Here he continued to exercise his successful ministry until 1799, when he peacefully expired.

Among many others, who were benefited by Simpson’s preaching, was a young female, eighteen years of age, who, on the very day of Wesley’s visit, above recorded, found peace with God, at Simpson’s sacramental service, and afterwards became the Hester Ann Rogers, whose journals and letters have been read by myriads.

On leaving Macclesfield, Wesley proceeded to Manchester and other places. At Bury, Methodism had been cradled in a storm. On some occasions, the people were besmeared with the most offensive filth; and on others were disturbed in their devotions by a huntsman blowing the hunter’s horn. Again and again the vicar frustrated their attempts to erect a chapel; but, at length, land at Pitts o’ th’ Moor was bought; the poor Methodists dug the clay and burnt the bricks; some worked by day, and others watched by night; and now, in 1774, the building was completed, and, on the 15th of April, Wesley preached in it.

Leaving Lancashire for Yorkshire, Wesley had, for him, the unusual honour of preaching on April 17 and 18, in three different churches, at Halifax, Huddersfield, and Heptonstall; and, on the Sunday following, he occupied the same position in the church at Haworth. A few days later, we find him in Scotland, preaching “to a people, the greatest part of whom,” says he, “hear much, know everything, and feel nothing.” Here, he tells us, he heard sermons, which unfortunately are too common at the present day,--sermons full of truth, “but no more likely to awaken souls than an Italian opera;” and, hence, he himself began to thunder about death, and judgment, and eternity. At Glasgow, Methodist matters were not at all to his satisfaction. “How is it,” he asks, “that there is no increase in the society here? It is exceeding easy to answer. One preacher stays here two or three months at a time, preaching on Sunday mornings, and three or four evenings in a week. Can a Methodist preacher preserve either bodily health, or spiritual life, with this exercise? And if he is but half alive, what will the people be?”

At Greenock, he found the same fault; and, at Edinburgh, writes: “Here, likewise, the morning preaching had been given up; consequently the people were few, dead, and cold. Things must be remedied, or we must quit the ground.”

Wesley attended a Scotch funeral, with which he was disgusted. “O what a difference,” says he, “is there between the English and Scotch method of burial! The English does honour to human nature; and even to the poor remains, that were once the temple of the Holy Ghost! But when I see in Scotland a coffin put into the earth, and covered up without a word, it reminds me of what was spoken of Jehoiakim, ‘He shall be buried with the burial of an ass!’”

At Perth, he says, the generality of the people were so wise, that they needed no more knowledge, and so good, that they needed no more religion; and, hence, he gave them three thundering sermons, two of them on hell and the day of judgment.

Wesley’s great difficulty in Scotland was the objection to itinerancy. “I have written,” says he, in a letter dated October 16, 1774, “to Dr. Hamilton, that Edinburgh and Dunbar must be supplied by one preacher. While I live, itinerant preachers shall be itinerants: I mean, if they choose to remain in connection with me. The society at Greenock are entirely at their own disposal: they may either have a preacher between them and Glasgow, or none at all. But more than one between them they cannot have. I have too much regard both for the bodies and souls of our preachers, to let them be confined to one place any more. I have weighed the matter, and will serve the Scots as we do the English, or leave them.”[205]

The above was addressed to Joseph Benson, at this time stationed in Scotland, and who has left a memento of Wesley’s visit which is worth quoting. “I was,” says he, “constantly with him for a week. I had an opportunity of examining narrowly his spirit and conduct; and, I assure you, I am more than ever persuaded, he is a _none such_. I know not his fellow, first, for abilities, natural and acquired; and, secondly, for his incomparable diligence in the application of those abilities to the best of employments. His lively fancy, tenacious memory, clear understanding, ready elocution, manly courage, indefatigable industry, really amaze me. I admire, but wish in vain to imitate, his diligent improvement of every moment of time; his wonderful exactness even in little things; the order and regularity wherewith he does and treats everything he takes in hand; together with his quick dispatch of business, and calm, cheerful serenity of soul. I ought not to omit to mention, what is very manifest to all who know him, his resolution, which no shocks of opposition can shake; his patience, which no length of trials can weary; his zeal for the glory of God and the good of man, which no waters of persecution or tribulation have yet been able to quench. Happy man! Long hast thou borne the burden and heat of the day, amidst the insults of foes, and the base treachery of seeming friends; but thou shalt rest from thy labours, and thy works shall follow thee!”[206]

On the 10th of June, Wesley reached Newcastle, and, on the day after, set out for Wolsingham and the dales. Returning to Newcastle, he and his wife’s daughter, and two grandchildren, had a marvellous escape from danger and death, in which Wesley believed that angels, both good and bad, took part. The narrative cannot be given in fewer or better words than in his own. We merely premise, that Horsley is a village a few miles west of Newcastle; and that Mr. Smith had married Mrs. Wesley’s daughter. Wesley writes:

“Monday, June 20--About nine, I set out for Horsley, with Mr. Hopper
and Mr. Smith. I took Mrs. Smith, and her two little girls, in the
chaise with me. About two miles from the town, just on the brow of
the hill, on a sudden both the horses set out, without any visible
cause, and flew down the hill, like an arrow. In a minute, John fell
off the coach box. The horses then went on full speed, sometimes to
the edge of the ditch on the right, sometimes on the left. A cart
came up against them; they avoided it as exactly as if the man had
been on the box. A narrow bridge was at the foot of the hill. They
went directly over the middle of it. They ran up the next hill with
the same speed; many persons meeting us, but getting out of the
way. Near the top of the hill was a gate, which led into a farmer’s
yard. It stood open. They turned short, and run through it, without
touching the gate on one side, or the post on the other. I thought,
‘The gate which is on the other side of the yard, and is shut, will
stop them’; but they rushed through it, as if it had been a cobweb,
and galloped on through the cornfield. The little girls cried out,
‘Grandpapa, save us!’ I told them, ‘Nothing will hurt you: do not be
afraid’; feeling no more fear or care than if I had been sitting in
my study. The horses ran on, till they came to the edge of a steep
precipice. Just then Mr. Smith, who could not overtake us before,
galloped in between. They stopped in a moment. Had they gone on ever
so little, he and we must have gone down together!”

This was one of the narrowest escapes from death that Wesley ever had; and his remarks upon it are worth adding.

“I am persuaded, that both evil and good angels had a large share
in this transaction: how large we do not know now; but we shall
know hereafter. I think some of the most remarkable circumstances
were: (1) Both the horses, which were tame and quiet as could be,
starting out in a moment, just at the top of the hill, and running
down full speed. (2) The coachman’s being thrown on his head with
such violence, and yet not hurt at all. (3) The chaise running
again and again to the edge of each ditch, and yet not into it.
(4) The avoiding the cart. (5) The keeping just the middle of the
bridge. (6) The turning short through the first gate, in a manner
that no coachman in England could have turned them, when in full
gallop. (7) The going through the second gate as if it had been but
smoke, without slackening their pace at all. This would have been
impossible, had not the end of the chariot pole struck exactly on the
centre of the gate; whence the whole, by the sudden impetuous shock,
was broke into small pieces. Lastly, that Mr. Smith struck in just
then: in a minute more we had been down the precipice. ‘Let those
give thanks whom the Lord hath redeemed, and delivered from the hand
of the enemy!’”

Newcastle was one of Wesley’s favourite haunts. However cruelly his wife treated him, her daughter and her son in law, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, always seem to have shown him kindness; and, hence, he always appeared to quit Newcastle with reluctance. He writes: “June 27--I took my leave of this lovely place and people.” The next day was his birthday, which he celebrated as follows: “This being the first day of my seventy-second year, I was considering, How is this, that I find just the same strength as I did thirty years ago? that my sight is considerably better now, and my nerves firmer, than they were then? that I have none of the infirmities of old age, and have lost several I had in my youth? The grand cause is, the good pleasure of God, who doeth whatsoever pleaseth Him. The chief means are: (1) My constantly rising at four, for about fifty years. (2) My generally preaching at five in the morning; one of the most healthy exercises in the world. (3) My never travelling less, by sea or land, than four thousand five hundred miles a year.”

Some will smile at this; but those who think, will hardly doubt, that the three things mentioned, so far from injuring health and shortening life, were among the likeliest of all likely things to be the means of preserving the one, and extending the other.

It is scarcely necessary to follow Wesley, in his wanderings through Durham, through the three ridings of the county of York, and through Lincolnshire; and then right away through Madeley, Worcester, and Cheltenham, to Bristol, where he arrived on August 6. The reader can easily find all this in his journal; we here prefer to give a few extracts from his letters.

Reference has just been made to Wesley’s vigour. We incline to think that, on his birthday, in the bright month of June, he was sometimes more jubilant than facts warranted. At all events, the following extract from a letter to his brother, written within two months before his birthday came, is scarcely in harmony with what was written then.

“WHITEHAVEN, _May 6, 1774_.