Chapter L: Tyerman (3)

“Last Thursday, about five in the morning, the heads of Thomas
Siddal and Thomas Deacon were fixed upon the Exchange. Great
numbers have been to view them; and yesterday, betwixt eight
and nine, Dr. Deacon, a non-juring priest, and father to one
of them, made a full stop near the Exchange, pulled off his
hat, and made a bow to them with great reverence. He afterwards
stood some time looking at them. A gentleman of the town was
with him, and a considerable number of spectators were present.
He and some of his flock have been seen to do so before several
times.”

This act, innocent and natural enough in itself, was regarded as popery—a worshipping of saints—and gave birth to not a few squibbs and verses. The following was by a Quaker:—

“Doffing the hat I hold no sign of grace,
Saving in prayer, which was perhaps the case;
But yet, my friend, I hope it may be said,
I’d rather see a hat off than a head.”

Another letter, dated October 11, 1746, says:—

“The two rebel heads are revered, and almost adored, as
trophies of martyrdom. The father of one of them (who is a
non-juring bishop), as he passes by, frequently pulls off
his hat, and looks at them above a minute, with a solemn,
complacential silence. Some suppose, he offers up a prayer for
them; others, to them. His church daily increases, and he is in
the highest credit and intimacy with the most of our clergy.”

This was replied to in a somewhat long article. The writer says, Dr. Deacon has told him that he “never passed by his son’s head but once; and then, indeed, he did pull off his hat.” In reference to Deacon’s large and growing church, it is added:—

“I cannot find above a score, and those of no great figure
or substance, who are partakers with him in his religious
singularity. Besides, what connection is there between politics
and the Doctor’s restoring primitive ecclesiastical usages?
What has the mixt-cup, infant communion, trine-immersion, etc.,
to do with King George and the Pretender?”

The writer continues:—

“The Doctor, I own, is respected by most of the clergy; and, I
will add, by most of the laity too; but what then? I could name
in turn several rigid Dissenters in the _highest credit and
intimacy_ with _some_ of our clergy; and, if it be wrong (which
is indeed a new doctrine to me) for the clergy to respect and
converse with persons of different opinions in religion, I
think the character of a clergyman of the Church of England in
much less danger from his acquaintance with a non-juring bishop
than with a Calvinistical Dissenter.”

In a letter, dated December 9, 1746, Dr. Deacon writes:—

“I have not adopted the political principles of indefeasible
and hereditary right into my religion, and make these an
essential part of it; and that none can become members of the
Church to which I belong, that are not enemies to the present
government. I do hereby declare that the same is utterly false.
I adopt no political principles into my religion but what are
expressed in our own Common Prayer Book, entitled, “A Compleat
Collection of Devotions.”

Much recrimination followed. It was broadly stated in _Whitworth’s Magazine_, and absolutely denied in the _Chester Courant_, that, whilst the Rebels were at Manchester, Dr. Deacon “had the very distinguished honour paid him of being escorted by a file of musqueteers to the Pretender’s lodgings;” and one of Whitworth’s poetasters favoured the public with the following:—

“The de’il has set these heads to view,
And put them upon poles;
Poor de’il, ’twas all that he could do,
When God had ta’en their souls.”

Further quotations would be useless and wearisome. Many of the poetical scraps strongly resemble the poetry of Dr. Byrom, an undoubted Jacobite and a friend of Clayton. His three poems,—“A Dialogue, occasioned by the March of the Highlanders into Lancashire, in the Year 1745”; “A Dialogue about compelling a Person to take the Oaths to the Government”; and “A Genuine Dialogue, between a Gentlewoman at Derby and her Maid, in the beginning of December, 1745,” are ample proofs of his sympathy with the non-jurors, and of his ardent attachment to the Stuarts; and, though it might be rash to assert with positiveness that he was actually the author of the Jacobite versicles in the _Chester Courant_, it is not unwarrantable to affirm that they bear a striking similitude to his well-known lines:—

“God bless the King, and bless the Faith’s Defender!
God bless—no harm in blessing—the Pretender!
But who Pretender is, and who is King,
Why, bless us all, that’s quite another thing.”

Of Clayton’s participation in this Jacobinical controversy there can be little doubt. In fact, he is said to have assisted in procuring a printing press for Joseph Harrop, who had been one of Whitworth’s apprentices. Harrop began the publication of a paper, in opposition to that of his late master, and to that paper Clayton was an important contributor.[44] Clayton’s Jacobite leanings were notorious. In _Whitworth’s Magazine_, for November 20, 1746, he was publicly rebuked, because one of his senior scholars had recently affronted a lady at the close of public service in the church by shouting, “Down with the Rump;” an affront, however, which was “very pardonable in the scholar, since that was a health at the master’s table.”

Clayton’s praying for the Pretender, in the public streets of Salford, has been already mentioned. It is also said, by one who knew him personally,[45] that he visited Prince Charles at the Palace Inn, paid him profound respect, and was regarded as a sort of royal chaplain. Wheeler, in his “History of Manchester,” asserts that when the government sent to Manchester to search for those who had shown disloyalty to the House of Brunswick, Clayton absconded. Be that as it may, he was placed under suspension by his bishop, and was subjected to the painful penalty of a long-continued silence in the church.[46] On resuming his ministerial duties, after his inhibition was ended, he displayed considerable keenness, and, perhaps, some degree of irreverence in the selection of his text. The Bishop of Chester, having commanded him to preach before him, the bold Jacobite, who had so long been silent, but was now again allowed to speak, somewhat startled both the bishop and the congregation by reading as his text, “I became dumb, and opened not my mouth, for Thou didst it.”[47]

There can be no question of the purity of Clayton’s motives, but his openly avowed adherence to the cause of the Pretender involved him in serious troubles. To say nothing of his ministerial suspension, he was, for years afterwards, the target of his townsmen’s malice. Some hated him, but others loved him; and the two united turned his life into a turmoil. Hence the following, taken from a work entitled, “Jacobite and Non-Juring Principles freely examined,” and published, in Manchester, against Dr. Deacon, by J. Owen, in 1748. Speaking of Clayton, Owen asks:—

“If you are the loyal people you represent yourselves to be,
whence happens it that there has been such a flush of joy,
discovered by your friends, for a _little, seditious priest_,
by virtue of the Act of Indemnity, escaping that justice which
was upon the _wing_ to pursue him? Whence was it that the bells
rang on the occasion for days together? Was it not by way of
grateful _Te Deum_, for the great and undeserved deliverance?
Whence was it that this,—shall I call him _Reverend_ Teacher of
_Babes_,—has such numbers of his young _fry_, as I am informed
he has, clad in the livery of rebellion? Is it not to convince
the world that there is no heresy in Scotch plaid, when wore
only as a badge of Romish superstition? It must be so, unless
you can believe,—and believe it who can!—that plaid, politics,
and popery are this gentleman’s aversion.”

Clayton’s school has just been mentioned,—a school, perhaps, commenced in consequence of his clerical suspension.[48] His residence was in Greengate, Salford, and the present well-known Methodist Chapel, in Gravel Lane, stands on what was once his garden. Here he ably conducted his classical academy, not a few of his pupils becoming graduates at the Oxford University. Here he kept a favourite monkey which came to a cruel and untimely end; for his pupils, either in wanton mischief or temporary spite, seized poor Pug, and fastened him to a stake in the vicinity of a hive of bees; and then so exasperated the apiarian insects, that the excited and miserable monkey was literally stung to death. At Kersall Cell, the seat of the Byrom family at Manchester, there is a large original oil-painting representing the interior of Clayton’s School in Salford, and a full-length portrait of Clayton himself, dressed in a blue velvet gown, and surrounded by his scholars.

Little more remains to be said of this sincere and earnest high church clergyman. He was stiff in his churchmanship, but was greatly respected. His Jacobite inclinations might be foolish, but they were not wicked, and were not peculiar to himself. Many of the most learned and pious and useful men then existing entertained the same sentiments and feelings. They were doubtless mistaken; but they were honest, and merited forbearance more than punishment. It is said that, in after years, Mr. Clayton’s opinions were greatly modified; and that, in fact, he became a Hanoverian. Perhaps there is no absolute proof of such a politico-religious change; but a caricature (now extremely scarce) was published, in which he was represented as standing on a pedestal, with two faces looking in opposite directions; on his breast was inscribed, “The art of trimming;” in his left hand was a scroll with “God bless King James III.” upon it; and in his right another, bearing the inscription of “Charles III.” The remainder of the picture consisted of a view of Manchester Old Church, the initials of Prince Charles, sundry portraits, a box and dice, a schoolmaster’s birchen rod, a broken punch-bowl, a dog snatching at a shadow, and finally two fighting cats. At the foot of the engraving was written:—

“Lye on! while my revenge shall be
To speak the very truth of thee.”

For twenty years, Clayton was chaplain of the Collegiate Church of Manchester; and, in 1760, was elected a fellow thereof, in the place of Mr. Crouchley, deceased.[49] Nine years afterwards, in 1769, he preached the sermon at the consecration of St. John’s Church, Manchester, founded by Edward Byrom, Esq., the son of his warmly attached friend, Dr. Byrom. He died September 25, 1773. His funeral sermon was preached by his intimate friend, the Rev. Thomas Aynscough, M.A., from the words, “We took sweet counsel together, and walked unto the house of God in company.” His old pupils erected a monument to his memory, in the Collegiate Church, bearing the following inscription:—

“Sacred to the Memory of the Rev. John Clayton, M.A.,
Successively Chaplain and Fellow of this Church,
Who died September 25th, 1773, Aged 64 Years.
This Monument is erected by his Scholars,
A grateful Token of their Affection and Esteem.
He had endeared himself to them
by his manly Cheerfulness, and strict Integrity,
diffusive Charity, heroic Forgiveness,
and Serenity of Temper under Disappointments;
his judicious Fidelity to guard against
the Dangers of Vice, and Follies of Ignorance,
by forming the Man, the Scholar, and the Christian,
in every Mind submitted to his Cultivation;
his ardent Zeal for true Religion;
warm Attachment to the Church of England;
and unwearied Discharge of all the Labours
of a conscientious Parish Priest;
by the uncommon Lustre of his declining Years,
wherein he bore the sharpest Agonies
of a painful and humiliating Disease,
with the Fortitude of Faith, the Resignation of Hope,
and the strong Consolation of a well-spent Life.”

This is high praise, but not unmerited,—given not by strangers, who never saw him, but by those who knew him best. Old Manchester Methodists used to describe him as being about five feet eight inches in stature, somewhat portly, dignified in gait, wearing an enormous wig, always deeply serious, a rigid disciplinarian among his scholars and choristers, a pattern of canonical regularity in the performance of his ministerial duties, and very venerable in appearance at the close of life.

Though a scholar and a man of considerable mental power, he seems to have published nothing, except the Sermon already mentioned, his Jacobinical strictures in the _Chester Courant_, and a sixpenny pamphlet, with the following title, “Friendly Advice to the Poor; Written and Published, at the Request of the late and present Officers of the Town of Manchester, by John Clayton, M.A. Manchester: Printed by Joseph Harrop, opposite the Clock End of the Exchange; for Messrs. Newton’s, Booksellers, 1755.” 47 pp.

Clayton was a faithful and fearless friend. He had no notion of using lollipops when bitters were required. His “advice” was “friendly”; but the opposite of fulsome. In his municipal publication, he delivers himself in no measured terms. He writes:—

“If in any passage of the following Address, the Poor may
seem to be treated with rigour, let it not be censured as
proceeding from sourness and severity of temper; but be
considered as a proof, that the author is in earnest, and
desirous of recommending this Tract to the serious unprejudiced
consideration of his readers. He has upon all proper occasions
shown himself ready to plead the cause of the poor and needy;
and, therefore, hopes he may be considered as still walking
charitably, though he does, with all plainness of speech and
befitting Christian liberty, rebuke that spirit of laziness,
luxury, and mismanagement, which is gone out into the world,
and which particularly reigns amongst the poor of this town,
and to which, in a great measure, all their miseries are owing.”

After this exordium, follows his castigation. He reminds his readers of the numerous charitable institutions of the town, for “lodging, clothing, and feeding the poor; for breeding up their children in useful Christian knowledge, and putting them out to proper trades; for helping young people at their first setting out in the world; for maintaining and relieving the sick and maimed; and, lastly, for succouring and supporting the impotent and aged.” He tells them, that, the town abounds

“With such variety of manufactures, as, one would think,
might furnish every one, that is able and willing to work,
with employment and sustenance. Nay, there are many branches
of business that require so little skill or labour, as that
neither children nor old people need to be totally excluded
from their share of them; so that a numerous family,—that
common occasion of distress,—far from being a burden here,
seems rather to be a blessing to its master; for most of the
members of it, if properly managed, are able to get their
livelihood; and, by the overplus of their gains, may contribute
to maintain the impotent part of the household.”

“Many of the poor, however, refuse or neglect to help
themselves, and thereby disable their betters from effectually
helping them. They have an abject mind, which entails their
miseries upon them; a mean, sordid spirit, which prevents all
attempts of bettering their condition. They are so familiarized
to filth and rags, as renders them in a manner natural; and
have so little sense of decency, as hardly to allow a wish for
it a place in their hearts.”

Clayton acknowledges, that, there are many exceptions of “edifying examples of industry, frugality, and good economy;” but he maintains, that, generally speaking, his description is painfully correct. The town swarmed with “loiterers”; and “common custom had established so many holidays, that few of the manufacturing work-folks were closely and regularly employed above two thirds of their time;” the result being “that every little accident, that prevented a single week’s work, reduced them absolutely to the state of paupers.” Besides this, “it frequently happened, that, the week’s labour of an industrious family, were swallowed up in a day’s debauch of the extravagant master.” Vice is contagious, and the pestilent example of masters filled the streets of Manchester “with idle, ragged children; who were not only losing their time, but learning habits of gaming; which constantly produced lying, quarrelling, profane swearing and cursing; and frequently, led to pilfering and stealing, and every degree of wickedness and enormity.” Added to this, while “the husband wasted his time and squandered his substance at the alehouse, the wife was as often wasteful at the tea-table, as the other was prodigal over his cups; for, strange as it might appear, it was a truth that even this wretched piece of luxury, this shameful devourer of time and money, had found its way into the houses of the poor; and it was no unusual thing to find a miserable family, with hardly rags to cover their nakedness, in a wretched garret, or more loathsome cellar, fooling away a precious hour, and spending more money over this confessedly hurtful food,” (beverage) “than would have furnished a good meal or two of wholesome diet.” In fact, “ale, gin, and tea mainly swallowed up that slender income, which might have been turned to much better account, had it been laid out with the baker and the butcher.”

Clayton adds mismanagement to his charges of idleness and luxury. There was a want of “good housewifry,” of “frugal cookery,” and of domestic cleanliness.

Another extract must suffice:—

“We cannot walk the streets without being annoyed with such
filth as is a public nuisance; as well as seeing such objects
as provoke resentment and aversion. We are grown infamous for
a general want of good manners in our populace; and no wonder,
because they are bred up in such habits of nastiness, as, in
a manner, break through the ties of natural modesty, and set
them beyond all sense of shame. The streets are no better than
a common dunghill; and more sacred places are most shamefully
polluted. Our very church-yards are profaned with such filth
as was once intended to create a detestation and abhorrence
even of idol temples;—I mean they are rendered no better than
errant draught-houses. Common decency will not allow me to be
more particular upon so loathsome a subject; and, if enough
is said to be understood, it is to be hoped it will effect a
reformation.”

Clayton, besides being an able instructor of the young, and an indefatigable parish priest, wished to be a social reformer; and, certainly, his services, in this respect, were greatly needed. His picture of Manchester, a little more than a hundred years ago, is far from savoury; but there can be little doubt of its being true. Clayton’s plain speaking would hardly be tolerated at the present day; but, notwithstanding that, perhaps, it might be useful. At all events, one cannot but admire the stern fidelity of this really kind and exemplary visitor of the poor and friendless, in dealing so faithfully with his fellow-townsmen, who, by their idleness and extravagance, systematically reduced themselves to rags and ruin; and, if the above extracts answer no other purpose, they will not be useless in helping to illustrate the character and principles of this Oxford Methodist.[50]

Clayton’s life was not mis-spent; but it might have been much more useful if his friendship with the Wesleys had not been broken. John Wesley, between the years 1738 and 1773, visited Manchester more than twenty times; and some of these visits were so memorable, that, Clayton must have heard of them; and, yet, there is not the slightest evidence of any renewal of that fraternal intercourse which was interrupted when Wesley began to preach salvation by faith only, and, in consequence, was excluded from the pulpits of the Established Church. This was heresy too great for a high churchman to overlook. To be saved by faith in Christ, instead of by sacraments, fasts, penances, ritualism, and good works was an unpardonable novelty, deserving of Clayton’s life-long censure; and hence, after 1738, the two old Oxford friends seem to have been separated till they met in heaven. It is rather remarkable, that, Wesley’s first visit to Manchester, subsequent to his conversion, was at the very time when the Jacobite controversy, already mentioned, was at its height; and that Wesley preached at Salford Cross, immediately adjoining Clayton’s residence. He writes:—

“1747, May 7.—We came to Manchester between one and two. I had
no thought of preaching here, till I was informed, John Nelson
had given public notice, that I would preach at one o’clock.
Their house would not contain a tenth part of the people;
and how the unbroken spirits of so large a town would endure
preaching in the street, I knew not. But after considering,
that, I was not going a warfare at my own cost, I walked
strait to Salford Cross. A numberless crowd of people partly
ran before, partly followed after me. I thought it best not
to sing, but, looking round; asked abruptly, ‘Why do you look
as if you had never seen me before? Many of you have seen me
in the neighbouring church, both preaching and administering
the sacrament.’ I then began, ‘Seek ye the Lord while He may
be found; call upon Him while He is near.’ None interrupted
at all or made any disturbance, till, as I was drawing to a
conclusion, a big man thrust in, with three or four more,
and bade them bring out the engine. Our friends desired me
to remove into a yard just by, which I did, and concluded in
peace.”

Clayton at the time was suspended from exercising ministerial functions by his bishop; but he was probably in Manchester, and in a neighbouring house; but there was no recognition of his quondam friend. Wesley might have called upon him; but perhaps Clayton’s dubious position, as a clergyman suspended for his Jacobinical leanings, prevented this. Wesley himself had been falsely accused of being a friend of the Pretender, and common prudence dictated the inexpediency of seeking the company of one who had shown Charles Edward such marks of sympathy and respect.

At his next visit but one, Wesley writes:—

“1752, March 27.—Being Good Friday, I went to the Old Church,
where Mr. Clayton read Prayers; I think the most distinctly,
solemnly, and gracefully of any man I ever heard; and the
behaviour of the whole congregation was serious and solemn in
every part of the service. But I was surprised to see such a
change in the greater part of them, as soon as the sacrament
was over. They were then bowing, courtesying, and talking to
each other, just as if they were going from a play.”

Did Wesley join in this sacramental service? Was Clayton one of the administrators? Was there any intercourse between the two?

Another of Wesley’s visits was in 1755, the year in which Clayton published his “Friendly Advice to the Poor”; and Wesley’s entry in his journal shows that reformation was needed not only among the working-classes, but their superiors.

“1755, April 9.—In the evening I preached at Manchester.
The mob was tolerably quiet as long as I was speaking, but
immediately after raged horribly. This, I find, has been their
manner for some time. No wonder; since the good justices
encourage them.”

It was a year after this, when Charles Wesley attended the Collegiate church every day for a whole week, and every day stood close to Clayton, and yet the latter would not even look at him.

Here we must leave the Jacobite Churchman. Of his sincerity, and of his earnest purpose faithfully to fulfil his office as a minister of the Church of England, there can be no question; but, remembering the sacred associations and Methodist meetings of Oxford, this priestly superciliousness was not to be commended, even though his two former friends were now excluded from Church of England pulpits, and were so ecclesiastically irregular as to preach in the open air.

REV. BENJAMIN INGHAM, THE YORKSHIRE EVANGELIST.

Benjamin Ingham was born at Osset, in Yorkshire, June 11th, 1712. Like the Wesleys, he was a descendant of one of the ministers ejected from the Church of England by the black Bartholomew Act of 1662.[51] Having received a liberal education at the grammar-school, Batley, he was sent, when about eighteen years of age, to Queen’s College, Oxford. Two years afterwards, he joined the Methodists. None of that godly brotherhood were more diligent and devout than this young Yorkshireman. Hence, the following letter addressed to his friend Wesley:—

“OSSET, _February 27th, 1734_.

“HONOURED SIR,—I meet with many cases of conscience in the
country, though I can find no casuist to solve them. I did
not altogether know the advantage of living at Oxford so well
before as I do now. They that have it in their power to reside
there, are wise if they do so. To act well in the country,
requires more knowledge, prudence, and a great deal more zeal.
It is scarce possible to imagine how wicked the world is.
The generality are dead in trespasses and sins. Even those
who would pass for good Christians, are sunk deep in a dead
indifference. Sincerity is as rare as a black swan. Since I
left your good brother, I have only met with one person that is
in good earnest for heaven, except that poor rug-maker. God,
indeed, is chief in his heart. The most wholesome discipline
and best discourses have no effect upon most people. They are
no more moved and concerned than a stone. Reflecting frequently
on this, has confirmed my belief of an election of grace.
I should be glad to know your thoughts on the subject at a
convenient opportunity.

“Since my coming into the country, I have frequently been much
affected with lively meetings; which has compensated me much,
and made me easy and cheerful. What dejects me most is when I
lie long, or am idle, or in company where I can do no good. I
desire to know how I ought to act when I am in company with
superiors, who talk only about trifles. Alas! Sir, I am vastly
deficient in this singularity, which is a material point;
though, blessed be God! I have now a footman to call me, who
visits me early, so that I hope to mend.

“I have methodized my time according to the following scheme.
Suppose I rise at five, or sooner, I spend till six in
devotion,—repeating a hymn, and chanting a psalm, then praying
and reading the Holy Scriptures. At six, Christian treatises.
At seven, we breakfast. I then get a lesson out of the New
Testament, then a Collect, and most of the Common Prayer.
Then forty-two poor children come to me to read. I propose to
observe the three ancient hours of prayer when at home. From
nine to eleven, I read in the Greek Testament, according to
Frank’s. At eleven, I go to teach the rug-maker’s children
to read. Twelve, dine; read Morris’s ‘Shorthand.’ Two, Greek
Testament. Four, walk. Five, devotion. Six, Monday, I choose
the subject beforehand. Seven, supper; and read Milton and
other religious books with the family. Nine, pray for myself
and friends. On Wednesday and Friday, from eight to nine,
meditate on my sins; twelve to one, on Christ’s sufferings; two
to three, read Morris. On Sunday, spend two hours in reading
with the family or some poor neighbours.

“I shall readily submit to your better directions. Supposing a
friend to visit me on a stationary day,[52] how must I behave
myself? In eating and drinking, should I confine myself to such
a quantity, when with strangers? Your directions in these cases
will be very useful.

“My hearty love to your brother, and all friends. I have
received a letter from Mr. Smith. He says he will acquaint his
tutor with all his concerns. I design shortly to write to Mr.
Ford and Watson. I earnestly desire the hearty prayers of all
friends.

“From your most obliged and affectionate friend and servant,

“B. INGHAM.”

Here we have another glimpse of Oxford Methodism,—intense conscientiousness, concern on account of surrounding wickedness, early rising, religious employment of every hour, devout study, care for neglected children, and observance of the weekly fasts; but not a word respecting the great truth, that sinners are saved by the alone merits of Jesus Christ, and by a penitential trust in His all-sufficient sacrifice. These were truths which the Oxford Methodists had yet to learn. Ingham, like Kirkham, the Morgans, and Clayton, looked to Wesley for guidance; but, in this respect, Wesley as yet was an incompetent instructor.

Ingham mentions his teaching forty-two children how to read, and his Sunday meetings among the poor people at Osset. Such efforts to improve his neighbours deserve to be commended; and it is a pleasant duty to relate, that, his benevolent endeavours were attended with great success. Numbers of persons were convinced of their lost condition as sinners: and thus was commenced a religious movement akin to that, which, eight years afterwards, seemed to upheave a large portion of the West Riding of the county of York.

Notwithstanding his prayers, fasts, scripture reading, and diligence, Ingham was not happy; and no wonder. He was a conscientious, earnest Pharisee, seeking to be saved by works of righteousness, rather than by penitential faith in Christ. The following letter, also addressed to Wesley, and written nine months after the former one, shows how dissatisfied he was with his present religious state; and reveals a scrupulousness of conscience in reference to shooting and Quakers, which is somewhat amusing:—

“OSSET, _November 30, 1734_.

“REV. SIR,—Such is the wretchedness of my station at present,
that, if I durst, shame would persuade me to conceal it from my
best friends. God, of His great goodness, has been pleased to
chastise me, for my sins, with an ague. I am afraid, I shall
make but a very indifferent use of this Fatherly correction. It
may justly be expected that I should be more dead to the world,
and filled with more fervent longings and thirstings after God;
that my diligence would have been quickened, and my devotion
inflamed. But, alas! sir, I am become more sensual, more
indulgent, and more subject to vanity. To early prayer I am now
a stranger. I think it well to rise at seven. In my sickness,
my thoughts, for the most part, were monstrous and trifling. I
would fain make my distemper an excuse; and, though it weakened
my body, it is strange that it should disorder my soul. To
give you one instance of my weakness: When I was pretty well
recovered, I could not deny myself so much as to walk out for
my health; and yet, with but little persuasion, I went several
times a shooting. Nay, I thought it necessary, though I had
renounced it. But it pleased God graciously to let my distemper
relapse, which took away the power, though not the desire of
going.

“At present, I keep altogether at home, scarcely stirring
out of doors. My eyes are weak; yet I am in a fair way of
recovering my bodily health. The only thing in which I have
not been much deficient, is in teaching the children, and
conversing at night with the neighbours, when able to do it.
And, indeed, this has been a means of saving myself from
utterly sinking. God hath been pleased to bless my weak
endeavours with pretty good success; and, I find, that, He
manifests the effects when we least expect it, hereby telling
us that not our endeavours, but His Almighty arm doth the work.

“The honest rugmaker makes very slow advances in learning. I
think to dissuade him from it, unless you advise me to the
contrary.

“My sister proceeds excellently, and, by her example, provokes
me to what otherwise I should not do.

“I desire you to resolve me: Will it be lawful to sell a thing
above its worth, purely because the buyer hath a desire of
it? Also, whether it be convenient or lawful for a Christian
to dwell with a Quaker when under no necessity? Also, whether
persons ought to eat, or openly declare they fast, when no
necessity puts them upon it?

“Dear Sir, let me beg your earnest prayers for your unworthy,
most obliged Friend and Servant,

“B. INGHAM.

“My love to your good brother, etc.

“I have heard from Mr. Burton. Mr. Wogan joins with him in
service to you and your brother. He expects to return by
Oxford about Christmas. They were indifferently in health. If
I recover my health perfectly, would you advise me to visit
Mr. Clayton before I return to Oxford? Our family send their
service.

“For the Rev. Mr. John Wesley,

“Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxon.”

From the above, it is quite evident that the Oxford Methodists regarded the Quakers as not Christians; yea, as people, in whose houses, it was doubtful whether Christians, except in cases of necessity, ought to dwell. This was not surprising. Sacraments, fasts, and feast days were essentials among the Oxford Methodists; among the Quakers they were utterly neglected. The religion of the Methodists, to a great extent, consisted in the observance of outward forms; the religion of the Quakers, to an equal extent, in the neglect of them.

Ingham returned to Oxford in February, 1735; and was ordained in Christ Church, by Bishop Potter, on the 1st of June following. On the day of his ordination, he preached his first sermon, his congregation consisting of the prisoners in Oxford Castle. On the 4th of the same month, he proceeded, with Mr. Gambold, to London, where he was engaged as the “reader of public prayers at Christ Church, and at St. Sepulchre’s,” Newgate Street. Ingham’s zeal was too fervent to be pent up in the reading-desks of these city churches. His age was only twenty-three; he was full of youthful buoyancy, and longed for a wider sphere of action. In Yorkshire, he had held conversational meetings in his mother’s house; but now, for the first time, he was allowed to mount the pulpit, and to preach. Christ Church and St. Sepulchre’s had other, probably older, men than himself as preachers; but, rather than be silent, away he went, on a sort of ecclesiastical itinerancy, far beyond the precincts of London proper, and preached in many of the surrounding villages, and with such singular success, that great numbers of the people were powerfully impressed, and had eternal cause to be grateful for his youthful and fervid ministry.[53]

The Oxford Methodists were already scattered. In consequence of his father’s death, on April 25, 1735, Wesley had gone to Epworth. His brother Charles, ordained about the same time as Ingham, had also taken his departure from Oxford. Clayton was in Manchester; Hervey at home; Gambold in London. The following letter, addressed to Wesley, and written a fortnight after Ingham’s ordination, contains interesting references to this religious brotherhood.

“MR. LISSON’S, GEORGE YARD, SNOW HILL, LONDON, _June 17, 1735_.

“REV. SIR,—The chief intent of this is to express my respect
and gratitude to you, and dear Mr. Charles, as at your
departure from Oxford there might seem to be some indifference
between us; but, according to the old saying, _Amantium irae
amoris redintegratio est_; my affections have the more inflamed
since that, and I have often thought of writing to inform you
of it, but hitherto have delayed. I have reason to believe
you have met with a variety of trials at Epworth, and I have
heard you evil spoken of abroad; and, for these reasons, I do
assure you I love you the more, and pray the more earnestly
for you. You have heard of the fluctuating condition of some
acquaintance at Oxford. London friends have much the same
esteem for you: ‘You are a good man, but you are too rigid,’
etc. ‘Master, in so saying, thou reproachest us also.’

“But to give you some good news. Mr. Salmon[54] is a sincere
friend. Mr. Whitefield is well known to you. I contracted
great intimacy with him since your departure. He is zealous
in a good cause. All friends at Queen’s College I left in
a hopeful condition. Their number is increased, and, I
verily believe, will increase. Mr. Hervey fights manfully in
Northamptonshire. Mr. Broughton is really a holy man. Mr.
Morgan (I suppose you have heard his case, how he is forbid
all conversation with you or your friends, etc.), I hope, will
make a good Christian. Our friends at Osset go on very well.
I baptized Piggot, and preached at the Castle the day I was
ordained. I think there were thirty, save one, at the sacrament
at St Mary’s the day before I came to London. Piggot and some
of our friends were confirmed on Sunday. Mr. Gambold came with
me to London, and is with me at Mr. Lissons’s. He returns to
Oxford with Mr. Hall, who has been here a considerable time,
on Saturday. On Friday, I shall set forward for Matching.[55]
I cannot tell how long I shall stay there. I have thoughts
of visiting my friends in Yorkshire; and, if you continue at
Epworth, I think to come and see you. I have also a desire to
see Mr. Clayton, at Manchester. I have been with Mr. Gambold
and Hall to see Mr. Law.[56] We asked him some questions; but
he talked only about man’s fall, and the one thing necessary.
He is a divine man.

“I like several of the religious people in London pretty
well; but I must confess they are not over zealous. I have
had a great many turns and changes since I saw you. I believe
I must be perfected through sufferings. Notwithstanding, by
the blessing of God, I hope to press on, and persevere in the
constant use of all the means of grace. I intend, at present,
to read the Scriptures in English, together with Mr. Law’s
books.

“My hearty respects to your brother and mother. Mrs. Lissons
sends her service. Pray let me hear from you shortly. When I
shall have the happiness of seeing you, or your brother, I
shall acquaint you with many particulars which I cannot now
mention. In the meantime, I rest, dear Sir, your sincere and
affectionate friend, and brother in Christ,

“B. INGHAM.”

“For the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, at Epworth, to be left at the
Post Office in Gainsborough, Lincolnshire.”

“A man’s heart deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his steps.” Within three months after this, Wesley wrote to Ingham, in substance, as follows:—“Fast and pray; and then send me word whether you dare go with me to the Indians.” Ingham’s answer will be found in the following long letter, or journal, dated “Savannah, May 1st, 1736;” and which is now, for the first time, published at _full length_. The substance of it was given in the “Wesley Banner” for 1852; but it is here printed verbatim, and without abridgment. Perhaps, and indeed, probably, the letter was an extract from a longer journal; but if so, the journal is unknown. The document is long, and somewhat loosely written; but, besides illustrating Ingham’s character, it contains a considerable amount of interesting information, and will serve to confirm the journals of Wesley and his brother, and to fill up gaps in them:—

“SAVANNAH, _May 1st, 1736_.

“To my much-honoured Mother, my dearly beloved Brethren and
Sisters, and all my Christian Friends:—Grace, mercy and peace
be multiplied from Almighty God, the Father, and from our Lord
Jesus Christ, with the Holy Ghost; to whom be glory, honour,
and praise for ever and ever. Amen.

“Blessed, for ever blessed be the God and Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ, the Father of all mercy, and the God of all
consolation, who, of His great goodness, has been graciously
pleased to conduct us safe through the terrors of the great
deep! ‘They that go down to the sea in ships, and occupy
their business in great waters, these men see the works of
the Lord, and His wonders in the deep, for, at His word, the
stormy wind ariseth, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They
are carried up to the heavens, and down again to the deep.
Their soul melteth away because of the trouble. They reel to
and fro, and are tossed up and down, so that they are at their
wit’s end. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and
He delivereth them out of their distress. For He maketh the
storm to cease, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are
they glad, because they are at rest; and so He bringeth them
unto the haven where they would be! O! that men would therefore
praise the Lord for His goodness, and declare the wonders that
He doeth to the children of men!’

“I can now inform you that we are all arrived in safety
in Georgia. But, because I believe that a relation of our
voyage will not be unacceptable to you, I shall, with God’s
assistance, set down both the chief occurrences thereof, and
also the reasons which moved me to undertake it. But, lest
you should think of me, or my designs, more highly than you
ought to think, I do assure you that I am a very grievous and
abominable sinner, proud, sensual, and self-willed. And, oh!
that I was truly sensible, and heartily sorry of being so! Oh!
that it would please Almighty God, of His great grace, to make
me thoroughly humble and contrite! Oh! that my sins were done
away; that my nature was changed; that I was a new creature in
Christ Jesus! Then, perhaps, God would make me an instrument to
His glory. Oh! my dear friends, I beg of you, I entreat you, I
beseech you, pray mightily to God in my behalf, that I may not
be a castaway.

“About six weeks before we took shipping for Georgia, I
received a letter from the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, Fellow of
Lincoln College, Oxford, the substance whereof was as follows:
‘Fast and pray; and then send me word whether you dare go with
me to the Indians,’ Having observed his directions, about
three days after the receipt of this, I answered him to this
effect: ‘I am satisfied that God’s providence has placed me in
my present station. Whether He would have me go to the Indians
or not, I am not as yet informed. I dare not go without being
called,’ I kept his letter secret for some days. I was utterly
averse from going. I thought we had heathens anew at home.
However, I continued to pray that God would be pleased to
direct me, whether He would have me go, or not.

“About a fortnight after this, Mr. John Wesley came to London,
as also his brother Charles, and Mr. Salmon, a gentleman of
Brazen-Nose College, Oxon. The first time I was with them, I
desired to know the reasons which moved them to leave England.
They answered, they thought they could be better Christians,
alleging particular advantages which they might reasonably
expect would further their spiritual progress, by going amongst
the Indians. Some of their reasons I approved of; to others
I objected, alleging that a man might be a Christian in any
place, but chiefly insisting upon this, that no one ought to
go without being called of God. They told me, if I required a
voice or sign from heaven, that was not now to be expected;
and that a man had no other way of knowing God’s will, but by
consulting his own reason, and his friends, and by observing
the order of God’s providence. They, therefore, thought it
a sufficient call to choose that way of life which they had
reason to believe would most promote their Christian welfare.
Our conversation being ended, they lent me several letters,
written by Mr. Oglethorpe, relating to the Indians, their
manner of living, their customs, and their great expectation
of having a white man come amongst them to teach them wisdom.
All this moved me a little, but I had no mind to leave England.
However, I now began to pray more frequently and fervently that
God would be pleased to direct me to do His will.

“Besides the three gentlemen aforementioned, there was also one
Mr. Hall, brother-in-law to Mr. Wesley, resolutely determined
to go. When they had been in London about ten days, in which
time I frequently conversed with them, I found my heart so
moved one night, by being with Mr. John Wesley, that, almost
without thinking it, I said to him, ‘If neither Mr. Hall nor
Mr. Salmon go along with you, I will go.’ At that time, there
seemed no probability that either of them would draw back. They
were both of them ordained by the Bishop of London in order to
go: Mr. Salmon, deacon; Mr. Hall, both deacon and priest.

“But, lo! Mr. Salmon was immediately seized upon by his
relations in town, and was sent down, post haste, to his
parents in Cheshire. Upon his arrival, his father left the
house, furious and distracted, protesting he would not return
unless his son would stay. His mother, also, was labouring
under a fever. In this distress, he knew not what to do; but he
promised his parents to stay, and wrote Mr. Wesley word that he
hoped to follow him next spring, though since then he has writ
to him, telling him he doth not think himself as yet at liberty
to leave father and mother.

“However, Mr. Hall still continued steady. Neither his wife,
nor mother, nor brother, nor uncle, nor all his friends, either
by prayers, tears, threats, or entreaties, could, in the least,
turn him aside from his purpose.

“A few days after this, Mr. Wesley began to be more importunate
with me, urging me with my promise, telling me he had now
little hope of Mr. Salmon; and, as for Mr. Hall, he could
not properly be said to go with him, for his design was to
go amongst the Indians, whereas Mr. Hall was only to go to
Savannah, and be minister there; and as for his brother
Charles, he went over only as secretary to the trustees for the
colony of Georgia.

“I still refused, telling him, ‘If Mr. Hall went, I would not
go.’ Nevertheless, I prayed very earnestly, almost night and
day revolving upon it. My heart began to be now more and more
affected. It pleased God to let me see I might be a better
Christian by going with Mr. Wesley. I thought, by living
with him and having his example always before mine eyes, I
should be enabled to rise regularly and early, and to spend
all my time carefully, which are great and necessary points
in Christianity, and wherein I grew very deficient by living
in London. Besides these, there were three other reasons
which moved me. I thought, I should not meet with so many
temptations, to sensuality and indulgence, among the Indians
as in England. Hereby, likewise, I saw I should be freed from
the slavery of worldly interests, and the danger and drudgery
of hunting for preferment, which hinders so many from being
Christians, making them to betray the Church to serve the
State, and to deny Jesus Christ to please worldly-minded men.
The last and chief reason was the goodness of the work, and the
great and glorious promises that are made to those who forsake
all for the sake of the gospel.[57]

“Notwithstanding all these reasons, I was not yet fully
determined to go; but, what is very remarkable, the Psalms, the
Lessons, and all that I then read suggested to me that I should
go. So that, being at Morning Prayers in Westminster Abbey,
on Tuesday, October 7th, 1735, the tenth chapter of St. Mark,
which was then read, made so strong and vigorous an impression
upon me, that, at the hearing of these words, ‘And Jesus
answered and said, Verily, I say unto you, there is no man that
hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother,
or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel’s,
but he shall receive an hundred-fold now in this time, houses,
and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and
lands, with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal
life,’—I determined in my heart that I would go. I may likewise
observe that, without any intention or design, I read the same
chapter the next day at St. Sepulchre’s Church, which did not a
little strengthen my resolution.

“Though I was thus determined in my own mind, yet I did not
make known my purpose to Mr. Wesley; but told him there were
three objections against my going. My mother and Mr. Nicolson
knew nothing of the matter; whereas I ought to have acquainted
them both and obtained their consent. To these Mr. Wesley
answered, he did not doubt but God would provide better for
the school in my absence than if I stayed, especially if
I recommended it to His care in my prayers, which I have
constantly done. Mr. Morgan, likewise, a gentleman of Lincoln
College, Oxford, who came up to London to take leave of Mr.
Wesley, a zealous and sincere Christian, being very earnest
with me to go, promised himself to make a journey into
Yorkshire to see my mother, and to do what he could towards
settling the school. As to having my mother’s consent, he
said, if I thought it was God’s will, I must obey my Master,
and go wherever I could do Him service, whether my relations
were willing or not. But, however, I could not go without Mr.
Nicolson’s knowledge and consent, because that would be leaving
the parish unprovided, which would be unlawful. We therefore
put the matter upon this issue,—if Mr. Nicolson consented, I
might go; if not, then there was a reasonable hindrance against
my going at this time. Mr. Nicolson had been some weeks at his
parish of Matching, in Essex, whereof I was curate. He usually
came to town on Saturdays, but, by a wonderful Providence, he
was now brought to town on Monday night. His intent was to have
returned the next day, but he was strangely detained, by one
thing or other, till Wednesday. I would gladly have met with
him on Tuesday, but could not find him at home. However, I writ
a letter, and ordered it to be given him as soon as he came.
Next morning, he came to my lodgings at Mr. Lissons’s. He told
me he had received my letter, which had acquainted him with my
designs. He was sorry to part with me; my warning was short;
my departure was sudden; yet, as I was going about a good
work, he would not oppose me; and, provided I could preach the
Sunday following, he would give me his consent. I went to Mr.
Oglethorpe to know if I could stay so long. He said, I might. I
returned, acquainted Mr. Nicolson, and so parted with him very
friendly, he going directly into the country.

“After this, I made known my designs, and got things in
readiness as fast as I could. My friends in town endeavoured to
persuade me; but I did not consult them, but God.

“On _Friday_, October 10, 1735, I made my will, which I sent
inclosed in a letter to you at Osset.

“_Sunday_, October 12, I preached at St. Mary Somerset[58] in
the morning, and at St. Sepulchre’s in the afternoon. Service
being ended, I took leave of my good old friend, Mrs. Lissons,
and her family, who wept much—my cousin, Robert Harrap, and
some other friends. Thence I went to Sir John Philips’, a very
worthy gentleman, and a devout Christian, who showed me a great
deal of respect, and did me many favours when I was in London,
where, having exhorted one another, we kneeled down to pray,
and so parted. Thence I went with Mr. Morgan to Mr. Hutton’s,
a good family in Westminster, where we spent the next day
with Messrs. Wesley, chiefly in private. But there happened
such a remarkable circumstance on it, as I cannot pass over
in silence. Mr. Hall, who had made great preparations for the
voyage, and had now got all things ready for his departure,
having this very morning hired a coach to carry himself and
wife down to Gravesend, where the ship lay, at the very hour
wherein they should have gone, drew back. He came unexpectedly,
and told Mr. Oglethorpe, his uncle and mother would get him a
living, and, therefore, he would not go. So he, whom all his
friends could not dissuade before, lost himself, and dropped
all his resolutions in the very last moments.

“This strange occurrence, which was so much beyond all
expectation, was a strong and fresh demonstration to me, that
it was God’s will I should go. Because, as I observed, I had
said to Mr. Wesley some time ago, ‘If neither Mr. Hall nor Mr.
Salmon go along with you, I will go.’—And again, ‘If Mr. Hall
goes, I will not go.’