The life and times of the Rev. John Wesley, M.A., founder of the Methodists. Vol. 1 (of 3)

THE Moravian wranglings brought Wesley to the metropolis in 1739; and, on the 3rd of January following, he left his friends, still “subverting one another’s souls by idle controversies and strife of words;” and came to Bristol on January 9.

Here he purposed to remain; but within a month he was back to London. A young surgeon, of the name of Snowde, had met in Bristol a man of the name of Ramsey, who in a state of destitution and distress had applied to Wesley for relief. Wesley employed him in writing and in keeping accounts for him, and afterwards in teaching a school instituted by the Bristol society.[341] Ramsey brought the young surgeon to hear Wesley preach. Both were rascals, and availed themselves of an opportunity of stealing £30 that had been collected towards building Kingswood school. Snowde went off to London; fell in with his old acquaintance; committed highway robbery; was arrested, tried, and condemned to die. While in Newgate, awaiting the execution of his sentence, he wrote to a friend, adjuring Wesley, “by the living God,” to come and see him before his death. Wesley, who had been robbed so sacrilegiously, started off, on a journey of more than two hundred miles, purposely to visit the convict thief. He found him apparently penitent, and having only a week to live. On the day before his sentence was to be executed, the poor creature wrote:—“I trust God has forgiven me all my sins, washing them away in the blood of the Lamb.” Next morning a reprieve was sent, and, six weeks afterwards, he was ordered for transportation. Whether Wesley assisted in obtaining the commutation of his sentence we have no means of knowing;[342] but as soon as the affair was settled he returned to Bristol; where, with the exception of a brief interval of about a week’s duration, he continued until the month of June. The rest of the year, excepting about three weeks, was spent in London.

In Bristol, the work, in its outward aspects, was greatly altered. Wesley writes:—“Convictions sink deeper and deeper; love and joy are more calm, even, and steady.”

Still there were a few instances similar to those that had occurred in the previous year. On January 13, while he was administering the sacrament at the house of a sick person in Kingswood, a woman “sunk down as dead.” A week after, she was “filled with the love of God, and with all peace and joy in believing.” On January 24, after he had preached in Bristol, another woman caught hold of him, crying:—“I have sinned beyond forgiveness. I have been cursing you in my heart, and blaspheming God. I am damned; I know it; I feel it; I am in hell; I have hell in my heart.” On April 3, the congregations in Bristol were remarkably visited; and “the cries of desire, joy, and love were on every side.” Five weeks after, another phase of excitement was presented. The people began to laugh; and, though it was a great grief to them, the laughing spirit was stronger than they were able to resist. One woman, who was known to be no dissembler, “sometimes laughed till she was almost strangled; then she broke out into cursing and blaspheming; then stamped and struggled with incredible strength, so that four or five could scarce hold her; then cried out, ‘O eternity, eternity! O that I had no soul! O that I had never been born!’ At last, she faintly called on Christ to help her,” and her excitement ceased. Most of the society were convinced, that those who laughed had no power to help it; but there were two exceptions: Elizabeth B—— and Anne H——. At length, says Wesley, “God suffered Satan to teach them better. Both of them were suddenly seized in the same manner as the rest, and laughed whether they would or no, almost without ceasing. Thus they continued for two days, a spectacle to all; and were then, upon prayer made for them, delivered in a moment.”

What are we to think of this? Wesley attributes it to Satan, and, in confirmation of his opinion, recites an instance which had occurred in his own history while at Oxford. According to their custom on Sundays, he and his brother Charles were walking in the meadows, singing psalms, when all at once Charles burst into a loud fit of laughter. Wesley writes:—“I asked him if he was distracted; and began to be angry. But presently I began to laugh as loud as he; nor could we possibly refrain, though we were ready to tear ourselves in pieces. We were forced to go home without singing another line.”

Amidst all this, however, there were happy deaths at Bristol. Margaret Thomas died in the highest triumph of faith, her will swallowed up in the will of God, and her hope full of immortality.[343] And one of the Kingswood converts “longed to be dissolved and to be with Christ;” some of her last words being, “I know His arms are round me; for His arms are like the rainbow, they go round heaven and earth.” These were among the first Methodists that entered heaven; and, no doubt, it was deaths like theirs which prompted not a few of the triumphant funereal hymns that gushed so exultingly from the poetic soul of Wesley’s brother.

The New Room at Bristol, as the first Methodist meeting-house was called, was now opened. Wesley expounded and preached daily, choosing for exposition the Acts of the Apostles, and for sermons the greatest texts of the New Testament. He was also one of the most active of philanthropists. The severity of the frost in January threw hundreds out of work, and reduced them to a state bordering on starvation; but Wesley made collections, and fed a hundred, and sometimes a hundred and fifty, hungry wretches in a day. He visited Bristol Bridewell, and tried to benefit and to comfort poor prisoners, till the commanding officer gave strict orders that neither Wesley nor any of his followers should in future be admitted, because he and they were all atheists. Of these same Bristol “atheists,” Wesley himself writes, “They were indeed as little children, not artful, not wise in their own eyes, not doting on controversy and strife of words; but truly determined to know nothing save Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.” Such they were when Wesley left them at the beginning of the month of June; and such his brother found them. “O what simplicity,” remarks Charles Wesley, “is in this childlike people! O that our London brethren would come to school at Kingswood! These are what they pretend to be. God knows their poverty; but they are rich.”[344]

Unfortunately broils generally broke out where Charles was pastor. This was his affliction, if not his fault. Before June was ended, he began to “rebuke sharply” some who thought themselves elect. He also read his journal to the bands “as an antidote to stillness.” When some of the people cried out, he “bade them to be quiet.” He reproved Hannah Barrow before the assembled society at Kingswood; and exercised discipline upon others. All this might be proper and expedient; but it was evidently of little use; for, when his brother returned to Bristol on September 1, his first sermon was addressed to backsliders. He met with one who had become wise far above what is written; and another who had been lifted up with the abundance of joy God had given her, and had fallen into blasphemies and vain imaginations. Later in the year, he found many “lame and turned out of the way.” There were “jealousies and misunderstandings.” There had been a Kingswood riot, on account of the dearness of corn. Charles Wesley rushed into the midst of it, and, finding a number of his converted colliers, who had been forced to join the disturbers of the public peace, he “gleaned a few from every company,” and “marched with them singing to the school,” where they held a two hours’ prayer-meeting, that God would chain the lion. He had to warn the people against apostasy. Some could not refrain from railing. John Cennick, in December, told Wesley that he was not able to agree with him, because he failed to preach the truth respecting election. The predestinarians formed themselves into a party, “to have a church within themselves, and to give themselves the sacrament in bread and water.”[345] So that when Wesley, on December 26, went to Kingswood, in order to preach at the usual hour, there was not more than half-a-dozen of the Kingswood people to hear him, all the others having become the followers of Calvinistic Cennick.

There were other troubles in Bristol, in 1740. After several disturbances in the month of March, the mob, on the 1st of April, filled the street and court and alleys round the place where Wesley was expounding, and shouted, cursed, and swore most fearfully. A number of the rioters were arrested; and, within a fortnight, one of them had hanged himself; a second was seized with serious illness, and sent to desire Wesley’s prayers; and a third came to him, confessing that he had been hired and made drunk to create disturbance, but, on coming to the place, found himself deprived of speech and power.

Concurrent with this unpleasantness, other parties used their utmost endeavours to prejudice the mind of Howel Harris, gleaning up idle stories concerning Wesley, and retailing them in Wales. “And yet these,” says Wesley, “are good Christians! these whisperers, talebearers, backbiters, evil speakers! Just such Christians as murderers or adulterers!” The curate of Penreul averred, upon his personal knowledge, that Wesley was a papist. Another man, a popish priest named Beon, while Wesley was preaching in Bristol, cried out, “Thou art a hypocrite, a devil, an enemy to the Church. This is false doctrine. It is not the doctrine of the Church. It is damnable doctrine. It is the doctrine of devils.” At Upton, the bells were rung to drown his voice. At Temple church, the converted colliers, and even Wesley’s brother Charles, were repelled from the sacramental table, and threatened with arrest. William Seward, the friend and travelling companion of George Whitefield, came to Bristol, and renounced the friendship of the two Wesleys, “in bitter words of hatred;” and Mr. Tucker preached against them, and condemned their irregularities in reforming and converting men.

So much respecting Bristol: let us turn to London. For the first five months, in 1740, Charles Wesley was the pastor of the London Moravians and Methodists, but conjoined with him was Philip Henry Molther, who was the Moravian favourite.

Molther was a native of Alsace, and a divinity student in the university of Jena. In 1737, he became the private tutor of Zinzendorf’s only son, and instructed him in French and music. On the 18th of October, 1739, he arrived in London, on his way to Pennsylvania. Bohler had left England; and the society in Fetter Lane was under the care of the two Wesleys.[346] Being an ordained Moravian minister, the people were anxious to hear Molther preach. At first, he spoke to them in Latin, with the help of an interpreter; but shortly was able to make himself understood in English. He was not satisfied with the Fetter Lane Moravians, for, says he, they had “adopted many most extraordinary usages.” The first time he entered their meeting, he was alarmed and almost terror stricken at “their sighing and groaning, their whining and howling, which strange proceeding they called the demonstration of the Spirit of power.” Molther, however, soon became extremely popular. Not only was the meeting-house in Fetter Lane filled with hearers, but the courtyard as well. Within a fortnight after his arrival, Wesley came from Bristol, “and the first person he met with was one whom he had left strong in faith, and zealous of good works; but who now told him, that Molther had fully convinced her she never had any faith at all, and had advised her, till she received faith, to be still, ceasing from outward works.” This was on November 1; and what followed, to the end of 1739, has been related already.

In January, 1740, Molther requested Wesley to furnish him with a translation of a German hymn; and the magnificent one beginning, “Now I have found the ground wherein,” was the result. For this, Molther, in a letter dated January 25, 1740, thanks the translator, and says, “I like it better than any other hymn I have seen in English.” He then adds:—

From this vague and misty epistle, it is evident that the views of Molther were not entertained by Wesley. For this we are thankful. Who can tell what is meant by loving a man “in the wounds of the Redeemer”? and by having the heart filled “up with a solid knowledge of His bloody atonement”? With all his imperfections, Wesley had learned to express his ideas in language much preferable to this.

Molther remained in the metropolis till about September, 1740, when, instead of proceeding to Pennsylvania as he intended, he was recalled to Germany. During this ten months‘residence, his diligence was exemplary, but its results disastrous. In the daytime, he visited from house to house. At nights, he met the bands, and often preached. James Hutton, in a letter to Zinzendorf, dated March 14, 1740, writes:—

This is a long, loose letter; but important, as descriptive of the Wesleys and of the work of God in general, from the standpoint of the Moravians. They evidently thought themselves the prime, if not the only, instruments in the present great revival; and this, excepting Scotland, Wales, and Bristol, to a great extent, was true. The work they had already done and contemplated was marvellous. A curious letter, dated December, 1739, is published in Doddridge’s Diary and Correspondence, vol. iii., p. 265, in which Zinzendorf addresses Doddridge as “the very reverend man, much beloved in the bowels of the blessed Redeemer, pastor of Northampton, and vigilant theologian.” Recounting the triumphs of the gospel, he tells the Northampton pastor that Switzerland has heard the truth; Greenland resounds with the gospel; thirty Caffrarians had been baptized; and a thousand negroes in the West Indies. Savannah, the Carolinas, Pennsylvania, Berbice, and Surinam were expecting fruit; ten or fifteen heathen tribes in Virginia were about to be visited; Ceylon and Lapland had both been reached; the gospel was being preached in Russia; Wallachia was succoured; Constantinople was blessed; through the whole of Germany the churches were preparing for Christ; and the Brethren were about to go to the East Indies, to Persian Magi, and to New York savages. All this had been done within the last twenty years. The Moravians, like a hive of bees, were all workers. By the grace of God, they had accomplished wonders; and yet, in London at least, through false teaching, they were in danger of being wrecked. The Wesleys tried to keep them right; but, in doing so, incurred censure instead of receiving thanks. A long extract from one of James Hutton’s letters has just been given; and another must be added. He writes:—

This is a painful subject; and hitherto, by both Moravian and Methodist historians, has been touched with a tender hand; but men have a right to know the foibles and follies of the good and great, as well as the virtues and victories for which they have been wreathed with honour. Besides, the recent publication of the memoirs of James Hutton renders it requisite that something more should be said respecting the squabbles of 1740.

In the extracts just given, Hutton accuses Wesley of telling men that they were justified when they were not; of envy; of being at enmity against the Moravians; of being able to awaken sinners, but not to lead them to the Saviour; of being a dangerous snare to young females; and of being displeased at the decline of his popularity, and offended with the Brethren’s easy method of salvation. Is all this true? Let us see. The Moravian statements have been given with the utmost honesty; let the reader take the Methodist statements on the other side.

Be it borne in mind, that Wesley was one of the original members of the Fetter Lane society, founded on the 1st of May, 1738; whereas Molther was first introduced among them in the month of October, 1739. Uneasiness and cavils sprung up immediately after Molther’s arrival; and, before the year was ended, Wesley had to come twice from Bristol to try to check germinating evils, and to put wrong things right.

On New Year’s day, 1740, he writes: “I endeavoured to explain to our brethren the true, Christian, scriptural stillness, by largely unfolding these words, ‘Be still, and know that I am God.’” The day after, he “earnestly besought them to ‘stand in the old paths.’ They all seemed convinced, and cried to God to heal their backslidings.” Wesley adds: “He sent forth such a spirit of peace and love, as we had not known for many months before.” Next day, January 3, Wesley set out for Bristol, and returned a month afterwards. He now found his old friends pleading for “a reservedness and closeness of conversation,” which perplexed him. He was told that “many of them, not content with leaving off the ordinances of God themselves, were continually troubling those that did not, and disputing with them, whether they would or no.” He “expostulated with them, and besought them to refrain from perplexing the minds of those who still waited for God in the ways of His own appointment.”

Thus he left them on the 3rd of March. Meanwhile, “poor perverted Mr. Simpson” declared to Charles Wesley, that no good was to be got by what he called the means of grace, neither was there any obligation to use them; and that most of the Brethren had cast them off. Charles, accompanied by Thomas Maxfield, called on Molther, who talked “against running after ordinances. They parted as they met, without prayer or singing; for the time for such exercises was past.” Maxfield was scandalized, and Charles Wesley foresaw that a separation was unavoidable. On Easter day, when preaching at the Foundery, he appealed to the society, and asked, “Who hath bewitched you, that you should let go your Saviour, and deny you ever knew Him?” A burst of sorrow followed; but, on going to Mr. Bowers’, in the evening, to meet the bands, the door was shut against him; and proceeding to Mr. Bray’s, the brazier, he was threatened with expulsion from the Moravian society. The day after, at Fetter Lane, Simpson reproved him for mentioning himself in preaching, and for preaching up the ordinances. He answered, that he should not ask him, or any of the Brethren, how an ambassador of Christ should preach. He adds: “I went home, weary, wounded, bruised, and faint, through the contradiction of sinners; poor sinners, as they call themselves,—these heady, violent, fierce contenders for stillness. I could not bear the thought of meeting them again.” Simpson said, “‘No soul can be washed in the blood of Christ, unless it first be brought to one in whom Christ is fully formed. But there are only two such ministers in London, Bell and Molther.’ Is not this robbing Christ of His glory, and making His creature necessary to Him in His peculiar work of salvation? First perish Molther, Bell, and all mankind, and sink into nothing, that Christ may be all in all. A new commandment, called ‘stillness,’ has repealed all God’s commandments, and given a full indulgence to corrupted nature. The still ones rage against me; for my brother, they say, had consented to their pulling down the ordinances, and here come I, and build them up again.”

During the week, Simpson called upon Charles Wesley, and “laid down his two postulatums:—1. The ordinances are not commands. 2. It is impossible to doubt after justification.” In a society meeting, at the Foundery, he further stated that “no unjustified person ought to receive the sacrament; for, doing so, he ate and drank his own damnation;” and J. Bray declared, that it was “impossible for any one to be a true Christian out of the Moravian church.”

Simpson wrote to Wesley wishing him to return to London; and, on April 23, he came, and found confusion worse confounded than ever. “Believers,” said Simpson, “are not subject to ordinances; and unbelievers have nothing to do with them. They ought to be still; otherwise they will be unbelievers as long as they live.” Wesley writes: “After a fruitless dispute of about two hours, I returned home with a heavy heart. In the evening, our society met; but it was cold, weary, heartless, dead. I found nothing of brotherly love among them now; but a harsh, dry, heavy, stupid spirit. For two hours, they looked one at another, when they looked up at all, as if one half of them was afraid of the other.” “The first hour passed in dumb show; the next in trifles not worth naming.”[350]

The two Wesleys went to Molther, who explicitly affirmed, that no one has any faith while he has any doubt; and that none are justified till they are sanctified. He also maintained, that, until men obtain clean hearts and are justified, they must refrain from using the means of grace, so called; but, after that, they are at perfect liberty to use them, or to use them not, as they deem expedient. They are designed only for believers; but are not enjoined even upon them.

Wesley was at his wits’ end; numbers came to him every day, once full of peace and love, but now plunged into doubts and fears. Just at this juncture, his brother printed his fine hymn, of twenty-three stanzas, entitled “The Means of Grace,” and circulated it “as an antidote to stillness.”[351] “Many,” said Charles, “insist that a part of their Christian calling is liberty from obeying, not liberty to obey. ‘The unjustified,’ say they, ‘are to be still; that is, not to search the Scriptures, not to pray, not to communicate, not to do good, not to endeavour, not to desire; for it is impossible to use means, without trusting in them.’ Their practice is agreeable to their principles. Lazy and proud themselves, bitter and censorious towards others, they trample upon the ordinances, and despise the commands of Christ.”

Wesley preached from the text, “Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened, except it die;” and “demonstrated to the society, that the ordinances are both means of grace, and commands of God.”[352] It was also probably at this period that he preached his able and discriminating sermon on the same subject, and which is published in his collected works. He specifies as the chief means of grace:—1. Prayer. 2. Searching the Scriptures; which implies reading, hearing, and meditating thereon. 3. Receiving the Lord’s supper. He allows, however, that, if these means are used as a kind of commutation for the religion they were designed to serve, it is difficult to find words to express the enormous folly and wickedness of thus keeping Christianity out of the heart by the very means which were ordained to bring it in. All outward means whatever, if separate from the Spirit of God, cannot profit the man using them. They possess no intrinsic power; and God is equally able to work by any, or by none at all. Wesley then proceeds to prove from Scripture, that, “all who desire the grace of God are to wait for it in the means which He hath ordained; in using, not in laying them aside.” He likewise answers the following objections:—1. You cannot use these means without trusting in them. 2. This is seeking salvation by works. 3. Christ is the only means of grace. 4. The Scripture directs us to wait for salvation. 5. God has appointed another way—“Stand still, and see the salvation of God.” Finally, Wesley concludes thus:—“1. Retain a lively sense that God is above all means, and can convey His grace, either in or out of any of the means which He hath appointed. 2. Be deeply impressed with the fact, that there is no power nor merit in any of the means. The opus operatum, the mere work done, profiteth nothing. Do it because God bids it. 3. In and through every outward thing, seek God alone, looking singly to the power of His Spirit, and the merits of His Son.” The whole sermon is intensely Wesleyan; full of keenly defined and powerfully enforced Scripture truths. Let the reader read it: it will benefit both his head and heart; and, perused in the light of these painful facts, it possesses historic interest of great importance. Such a sermon must have had a powerful influence at such a time, and bold was the man, who, in the midst of such disputers, had the fidelity to preach it.

It was a time of great anxiety. The work in London was in danger of being wrecked; and, more than that, some of Wesley’s oldest and most trusted friends, in this afflictive emergency, proved unfaithful.

The Rev. George Stonehouse, vicar of Islington, was converted in 1738, chiefly through the instrumentality of Charles Wesley, who, for a time, officiated as his curate. Many were the warm-hearted meetings, held, by the first Methodists, in the vicar’s house. His affection for the two Wesleys was great; and, in November 1738, when they were forsaken by all their friends, and well-nigh penniless, he offered to find them home and maintenance; and yet, six months afterwards, he yielded to his churchwardens, and allowed Charles Wesley to be excluded from his church. Imbibing Molther’s heresies, Stonehouse sold his living, married the only daughter of Sir John Crispe, joined the Moravians, and retired to Sherborne, in the west of England, where he fitted up a place capable of accommodating five hundred people, in which to hold Moravian meetings. In 1745, he had a lovefeast, the room being grandly illuminated with thirty-seven candles adorned with flowers; and all the sisters present being dressed in German fashion. Shortly after this, he abandoned the Brethren altogether,[353] and appears henceforth to have spent his days in inglorious stillness, enjoying the benefits of a quiet religion and a harmless life.[354]

Wesley sought counsel of his friend Ingham, and received in reply the following letter, full of piety and mistiness, and now for the first time published.

This is a curious letter, and will help to cast light on some of the expressions which Wesley himself had used concerning his own experience. As yet, the Methodists had much to learn. Meanwhile, Ingham and Howel Harris came to London. Charles Wesley says, the latter, in his preaching, proved himself a son of thunder and of consolation. Cavilling, however, followed. Honest, plain, undesigning James Hutton “was all tergiversation, and turned into a subtle, close, ambiguous Loyola;” while Richard Bell, watch-case maker, seemed to think, that he and Molther and another were all the church that Christ had in England. A man of the name of Ridley rendered himself famous by saying, “You may as well go to hell for praying as for thieving;” and John Browne asserted, “If we read, the devil reads with us; if we pray, he prays with us; if we go to church or sacrament, he goes with us.”[355]

Ingham also, as well as Harris, “honestly withstood the deluded Brethren; contradicted their favourite errors; and constrained them to be still.” In the Fetter Lane society, he bore a noble testimony for the ordinances of God; but the answer was, “You are blind, and speak of the things you know not.” Wesley preached a series of sermons—1. On the delusion, that “weak faith is no faith.” 2. On the bold affirmation, that there is but one commandment in the New Testament, namely, “to believe.” 3. On the point, that Christians are subject to the ordinances of Christ. 4. On the fact, that a man may be justified without being entirely sanctified. These discourses were followed by five others, on reading the Scriptures, prayer, the Lord’s supper, and good works.

The result was increased commotion. Some said, “We believers are no more bound to obey, than the subjects of the king of England are bound to obey the laws of the king of France.” Bell declared that, for a man not born of God to read the Scriptures, pray, or come to the Lord’s table, was deadly poison. And Wesley, after a short debate, was prohibited preaching at Fetter Lane.

This brought matters to a crisis. Wesley had done all he could to correct the growing errors; but Molther was a greater favourite than Wesley; and the man, who had founded Fetter Lane society, was now, by Moravian votes, commanded to go about his business, and to leave the pulpit to his German superiors.

The thing had become an intolerable evil; and, at all hazards, the heresies must be checked. Substantially they may be reduced to two:—1. That there are no degrees of faith; or, in other words, that there is no justifying faith where there is any doubt or fear; or, in other words (for we feel it difficult to gripe such an abortive dogma), no man believes and is justified, unless, in the full sense of the expression, he is sanctified, and is possessed of a clean heart. 2. That to search the Scriptures, to pray, or to communicate, before we have faith, is to seek salvation by works; and such works must be laid aside before faith can be received.

This is not the place to confute such errors. Suffice it to say, that, before half-a-dozen years had passed, the London Moravians dropped the very doctrines, for opposing which Wesley was expelled from preaching in Fetter Lane. Their stillness was declared to mean, that “man cannot attain to salvation by his own wisdom, strength, righteousness, goodness, merits, or works. When he applies for it, he must cast away all dependence upon everything of his own, and, trusting only to the mercy of God, through the merits of Christ, he must thus quietly wait for God’s salvation.”[356] This is a doctrine to which Wesley raised no objection; but it was not the doctrine of Molther, Browne, Bell, Bray, and Bowers, in 1740. Then as to the doctrine concerning degrees in faith, it is right to add, that such a dogma was never taught by the general authorities of the Moravian church; but it was taught by Spangenberg, Molther, Stonehouse, and other Moravians in London,[357] the result being the disastrous confusion to which we are now adverting. Indeed, it is a notable fact, that, only two months after the Fetter Lane disruption, Wesley himself clears the Moravian church from the aspersion, that it held such heresies. They were the spawn of foolish fanatics, who regarded themselves Moravians, but were hardly worthy of the name. On September 29, 1740, Wesley having stated what the errors were, observes:—“In flat opposition to this, I assert: 1. That a man may have a degree of justifying faith, before he is wholly freed from all doubt and fear; and before he has, in the full, proper sense, a new, a clean heart. 2. That a man may use the ordinances of God, the Lord’s supper in particular, before he has such a faith as excludes all doubt and fear, and implies a new, a clean heart. 3. I further assert, that I learned this, not only from the English, but also from the Moravian church; and I hereby openly and earnestly call upon that church, and upon Count Zinzendorf in particular, to correct me, and explain themselves, if I have misunderstood or misrepresented them.” Wesley thus puts the blame on the right shoulders. It was not the Moravian church, but a few of its foolish ministers and members, at Fetter Lane, that circulated these heresies.

What was the result? If the Fetter Lane society did not exclude Wesley from their membership, they, on the 16th of July, expelled him from their pulpit; and hence, four days afterwards, he went with Mr. Seward to their lovefeast, and, at its conclusion, read a paper stating the errors into which they had fallen, and concluding thus:—“I believe these assertions to be flatly contrary to the word of God. I have warned you hereof again and again, and besought you to turn back to the ‘law and the testimony.’ I have borne with you long, hoping you would turn. But, as I find you more and more confirmed in the error of your ways, nothing now remains, but that I should give you up to God. You that are of the same judgment, follow me.”

Without saying more, he then silently withdrew, eighteen or nineteen of the society following him.

Two days afterwards, he received a letter from one of the Brethren in Germany, advising him and his brother to deliver up the “instruction of poor souls” to the Moravians; “for you,” adds the writer, “only instruct them in such errors, that they will be damned at last. St. Peter justly describes you, who ‘have eyes full of adultery, and cannot cease from sin;’ and take upon you to guide unstable souls, and lead them in the way of damnation.”

The day following, the seceding society, numbering about twenty-five men and fifty women, met for the first time, at the Foundery, instead of at Fetter Lane; and so the Methodist society was founded on July 23, 1740.

A fortnight later, Wesley, “a presbyter of the church of God in England,” wrote a long letter “to the church of God at Herrnhuth,” in which he states, that, though some of the Moravians had pronounced him “a child of the devil and a servant of corruption,” yet, he was now taking the liberty of speaking freely and plainly concerning things in the Moravian church which he deemed unscriptural. He enumerates the heresies which have been so often mentioned. He tells them, that a Moravian preacher, in his public expounding, said: “As many go to hell by praying as by thieving.” Another had said, “I knew a man who received a great gift while leaning over the back of a chair; but kneeling down to give God thanks, he lost it immediately through doing so.” He charges the Moravians with exalting themselves and despising others, and declares, that he scarce ever heard a Moravian owning his church or himself to be wrong in anything. They spoke of their church as if it were infallible, and some of them set it up as the judge of all the earth, of all persons and of all doctrines, and maintained that there were no true Christians out of it. Like the modern Mystics, they mixed much of man’s wisdom with the wisdom of God, and philosophised on almost every part of the plain religion of the Bible. They talked much against mixing nature with grace, and against mimicking the power of the Holy Ghost. They cautioned the brethren against animal joy, against natural love of one another, and against selfish love of God. “My brethren,” concludes Wesley, “whether ye will hear, or whether ye will forbear, I have now delivered my own soul. And this I have chosen to do in an artless manner, that if anything should come home to your hearts, the effect might evidently flow, not from the wisdom of man, but from the power of God.”

On September 1, Charles Wesley wrote to Whitefield in America, as follows:—

Whitefield’s reply to this is unknown; but on November 24 he wrote as follows to James Hutton:—