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

One of the first entries in Wesley’s journal, in 1783, is the following. “Friday, January 10—I paid one more visit to Mr. Perronet, now in his ninetieth year. I do not know so venerable a man. His understanding is little, if at all, impaired; and his heart seems to be all love. A little longer, I hope, he will remain here, to be a blessing to all that see and hear him.” This is beautiful, after an unbroken friendship of about forty years.

Another entry, equally deserving of being noted, was as follows: “Sunday, January 19—I preached in St. Thomas’s church in the afternoon, and at St. Swithin’s in the evening. The tide is now turned; so that I have more invitations to preach in churches than I can accept of.” What a contrast between 1783 and 1739!

Wesley was an unendowed clergyman; but was not unsupported. The funds, raised for his purposes, were large; but his own appropriation from them, not equal to the poor parson’s, who was “passing rich on £40 a year.” In reference to the London annual audit, he writes: “Friday, February 21—At our yearly meeting for that purpose, we examined our yearly accounts, and found the money received, (just answering the expense,) was upwards of £3000 a year. But that is nothing to me: what I receive of it, yearly, is neither more nor less than £30.”

Wesley was an old man; but he was still an outdoor preacher: for five-and-forty years he had been branded as a schismatic and a Dissenter; but he was still an ardent Churchman. Hence the following, addressed to Joseph Taylor, one of his itinerant preachers.

An extract from another letter may be inserted here, showing that, rightly or wrongly, the Methodist preachers of the present day have departed from one of the principles of their founder. Ministerial classes are now almost general. Hear what Wesley had to say, on this subject, to John Cricket, then stationed, with Henry Moore, at Londonderry.

The hale old man soon found himself in a different plight. On March 2, he set off for Bristol, in the neighbourhood of which he spent the next twelve days, preaching and meeting classes. He then became seriously unwell; but, for two days longer, continued preaching, when he was obliged to take his bed. He had a deep tearing cough; was weak and heavy, and in a fever. He had fixed the next morning for commencing his journey to Ireland, and had sent notice to Stroud, and various other places, of the days wherein he purposed to visit them. Fortunately, the Rev. Brian Collins was at hand, and undertook to supply his appointments as far as Worcester. Accordingly, Mr. Collins, in the morning of March 17, set out to preach at Stroud; but Wesley, finding himself better, in the afternoon, imprudently set out after him, and actually gave a short exhortation to the Stroud society. For the next three days, he was dangerously ill. The whole nervous system was violently agitated. His cough was most distressing. He was seized with cramp. He was bereft of strength, “scarce able to move, and much less to think.” Before leaving Bristol, he wrote the following unpublished letter to Miss Hester Ann Roe, afterwards Mrs. Rogers.

What was the result? The news of Wesley’s being dangerously ill flew far and wide. A number of the preachers met together to pray for a further prolongation of his life; and, from that time, he rapidly recovered.⁠[447] For three days he lay at Stroud, in great danger. On the morning of the fourth day, he wrote: “A violent fit of the cramp carried the fever quite away; and, perceiving this, I took chaise without delay, and reached Worcester in the afternoon. Here I overtook Mr. Collins, who had supplied all my appointments, with a remarkable blessing to the people; and, the next morning, I gave a short exhortation, and then went on to Birmingham.” At Birmingham, he was electrified, and “ventured to preach three quarters of an hour.” He then made his way to Hinckley, where, for three days, he preached morning and evening, “to a serious and well behaved people.” He then visited other societies on his way to Holyhead, and reached Dublin on April 13.

For three weeks, he was the guest of Mr. Henry Brooke, and was employed in healing serious divisions in the Dublin society.⁠[448] Four days were spent in holding a conference with his Irish preachers, at which, he says, “all was peace and love.” “I wish,” he writes, “all our English preachers were of the same spirit with the Irish, among whom is no jarring string. I never saw such simplicity and teachableness run through a body of preachers before.”⁠[449] This was a high compliment paid to Thomas Rutherford, Andrew Blair, Zechariah Yewdall, Richard Boardman, Thomas Barber, Henry Moore, John Cricket, John Crook, and their twenty-six colleagues in Christian enterprise and labour.

Wesley embarked for England on the 8th of May, and, after preaching at Warrington, Liverpool, Wigan, Bolton, and other places, reached Manchester nine days afterwards. Here he had an enormous sacramental service, at which thirteen or fourteen hundred communicants were present: “such a sight,” says he, “as, I believe, was never seen in Manchester before.” “I believe,” he adds, “there is no place but London where we have so many souls so deeply devoted to God.”

Leaving Manchester, he proceeded to Macclesfield, where a week never passed “in which some were not justified, and some renewed in love.” He preached, for the first time, at Buxton, where John Knowles and his wife were almost the only Methodists, and frequently rode on horseback to Stockport, a distance of sixteen miles, to hear the Methodist preachers.⁠[450] Here he married a couple of his friends, and preached in the parish church. He arrived in London on May 31.

On June 11, accompanied by Messrs. Brackenbury, Broadbent, and Whitfield, he set out for Holland. For more than forty years, Wesley had been incessantly at work forming Methodist societies. Up to the present, he had never indulged in the luxury of a ministerial holiday; and we are not sure, that his trip to Holland should be regarded in such a light as that. Still, there was a difference between this journey and others. In other instances, his object was to institute Methodist societies, or to strengthen those already formed; in this instance, that was no part of the object at which he aimed. He went, says Mr. Moore, “partly for relaxation, and partly to indulge and enlarge his catholic spirit, by forming an acquaintance with the truly pious in foreign nations.” The fact is, one of his own local preachers, whom he highly esteemed, Mr. William Ferguson, had removed to Holland, and, by his earnest piety, had attracted the attention of the public generally, including many of the principal inhabitants and persons in authority. He spoke much of Wesley and of the Methodists, and distributed Wesley’s sermons among his friends. The result was a general wish to see the veteran evangelist, and to hear him for themselves. One difficulty, however, was in the way. Wesley was acquainted, to a greater or less extent, with the Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, the English, French, German, and Spanish languages; but he knew nought of Dutch. This objection was surmounted by Mr. Ferguson’s son, Jonathan, offering to act as his interpreter.⁠[451] Accordingly, off Wesley went, accompanied by the three preachers above mentioned.

His visit was eminently pleasant. Ministers of religion welcomed him; and persons of high rank showed him honour. At Rotterdam, he preached twice, in the episcopal church, to large congregations, and says: “Were it only for this, I am glad I came to Holland.” At the Hague, in the house of a lady of the first quality, he met a dozen ladies and two military gentlemen, expounded the first three verses of the thirteenth of the first epistle to the Corinthians, and prayed, Captain M⁠—— interpreting sentence by sentence. Wesley writes: “I believe, this hour was well employed.” He held a sort of service in the passenger boat between Haarlem and Amsterdam. That is, he and his friends began to sing a hymn; the people listened; Wesley talked; Ferguson interpreted; “and all our hearts,” says Wesley, “were strangely knit together, so that, when we came to Amsterdam, they dismissed us with abundance of blessings.”

At Utrecht, Wesley wrote: “June 28—I have this day lived fourscore years; and, by the mercy of God, my eyes are not waxed dim, and what little strength of body or mind I had thirty years since, just the same I have now. God grant I may never live to be useless! rather may I

On the same day, he made a short excursion. Hence, the following extract from the diary of the Moravian congregation at Zeyst:

Wesley spent altogether seventeen days in Holland, and was delighted with his visit. He writes: “I can by no means regret either the trouble or expense, which attended this little journey. It opened me a way into, as it were, a new world; where the land, the buildings, the people, the customs, were all such as I had never seen before. But as those with whom I conversed were of the same spirit with my friends in England, I was as much at home in Utrecht and Amsterdam, as in Bristol and London.” “There is a blessed work at the Hague, and many other of the principal cities; and, in their simplicity of spirit, and plainness of dress, the believers vie with the old English Methodists. In affection, they are not inferior to any. It was with the utmost difficulty we could break from them.”⁠[452] “Two of our sisters, when we left the Hague, came twelve miles with us on the way; and one of our brethren, of Amsterdam, came to take leave of us to Utrecht, above thirty miles. I believe, if my life be prolonged, I shall pay them a visit at least every other year. Had I had a little more time, I would have visited our brethren in Friesland, and Westphalia likewise; for a glorious work of God is lately broken out in both these provinces.”⁠[453]

Wesley got back to London on July 4. Ten days later, he set off to his conference at Bristol. “I expect,” says he, “a good deal of difficulty at this conference, and shall stand in need of the prayers of you and your friends.”⁠[454] His apprehension was realised; hence the following entry in his journal: “July 29—Our conference began, at which we considered two important points: first, the case of Birstal house; and, secondly, the state of Kingswood school. With regard to the former, our brethren earnestly desired, that I would go to Birstal myself, believing this would be the most effectual way of bringing the trustees to reason. With regard to the latter, we all agreed, that either the school should cease, or the rules of it be particularly observed: particularly, that the children should never play, and that a master should be always present with them.”

We need not recur to the first of these points, except to add, that the Birstal chapel case, no doubt, led to the adoption of the following resolutions:

Such was the commission given to Dr. Coke, a weary and worrying one.

Kingswood school, however, was as great a bore as Birstal chapel. It had now existed for five-and-thirty years; it had been to Wesley a source of almost ceaseless trouble, and was now in a worse state than ever. Nevertheless, it was a far famed institution; and, besides the sons of itinerant preachers, it had, at this very time, parlour boarders from Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and the West Indies. None of the scholars however, were remarkable for piety or learning; and the young gentlemen, just mentioned, had spoiled the discipline of the school. Thomas Simpson, M.A., was head master; Mrs. Simpson housekeeper; Cornelius Bayley was English teacher, with a salary of £12 per annum and his board; Vincent de Boudry was occasional French teacher; and C. R. Bond a sort of half boarder, and assistant to Bayley.⁠[455]

This was a dark picture; doubtless the result of bad management. Easy, good tempered Mr. Simpson was a scholar; his wife, the real governor, was an ogress. A woman that rubbed Adam Clarke with the “infernal unguent” to cure him of an imaginary itch; thrust him into a solitary room, with a wretched old bedstead, and left him there without book or fire; and from whom Adam, when he heard her voice, was disposed to run in the utmost fright, was not the woman to manage Kingswood school. “She was probably very clever,” says Clarke; “all stood in awe of her; for my own part, I feared her more than I feared Satan himself. The school was the worst I had ever seen, though the teachers were men of adequate learning. It was perfectly disorganised; and, in several respects, each did what was right in his own eyes. There was no efficient plan pursued; they mocked at religion; and trampled under foot all the laws. The little children of the preachers suffered great indignities; and, it is to be feared, their treatment there gave many of them a rooted enmity against religion for life. The parlour boarders had every kind of respect paid to them, and the others were shamefully neglected. Scarcely any care was taken either of their bodies or souls.”

Poor Kingswood! Could all this be strictly accurate? Probably it was; for the following, given as a fact, prepares the mind for almost anything in the form of stupidity, and ignorant confusion. “At the table,” writes Adam Clarke, “every person when he drank was obliged to run the following gauntlet. He must drink the health of Mr. Simpson, Mrs. Simpson, Miss Simpson, Mr. Bayley, Mr. De Boudry, all the foreign gentlemen, then all the parlour boarders, down one side of the long table, and up the other, one by one, and all the visitors who might happen to be there: after which it was lawful for him to drink his glass of beer.”⁠[457]

Wesley was quite right. No school at all was better than such a school as this. It was high time to mend it or end it. In his magazine, for the very month in which the conference of 1783 was held, Wesley published an article, by his own pen, entitled, “A Thought on the Manner of Educating Children,” in which he strongly maintains, that all education ought to be religious; but adds, probably with the state of Kingswood in his eye,—“Even religious masters may still be mistaken with regard to the manner of instilling religion into children. They may not have the spirit of government, to which some even good men are utter strangers. They may habitually lean to this or that extreme, of remissness or of severity. And if they either give children too much of their own will, or needlessly and churlishly restrain them; if they either use no punishment at all, or more than is necessary, the leaning either to one extreme or the other may frustrate all their endeavours. In the latter case, it will not be strange, if religion stink in the nostrils of those that were so educated. They will naturally look on it as an austere, melancholy thing; and, if they think it necessary to salvation, they will esteem it a necessary evil, and so put it off as long as possible.”

Wesley was not the man to hesitate in changing his officials when change was necessary. Mr. Simpson was dismissed; Thomas McGeary, A.M., a young man of twenty-two, took his place.⁠[458] Cornelius Bayley had previously made up his mind to leave, in order to enter the ministry of the Established Church;⁠[459] and Thomas Welch, an assistant in a school at Coventry, applied to be appointed his successor. Wesley wrote to him as follows.

Mr. Welch was a young man of twenty-three. Two years before, he had become a Methodist. The Coventry society, then extremely feeble, was loath to lose him; and some of its members succeeded in persuading him to remain where he was. He wrote to Wesley to this effect; and Wesley answered: “You use me very ill. I have turned away three masters on your account. The person, who gives you this advice, is wanting either in common sense or common honesty.”⁠[461] Mr. Welch became a valuable local preacher, and lived and died a Methodist. Thomas Jones took the place that he declined, and, for three years, retained it, when he was ordained a clergyman of the Church of England.

This was Wesley’s last complaint of Kingswood. Twelve months afterwards, the school and family were visited with a gracious outpouring of God’s good Spirit. In 1786, he says: “I found the school in excellent order.” “It is now one of the pleasantest spots in England. I found all things just according to my desire; the rules being well observed, and the whole behaviour of the children showing, that they were now managed with the wisdom that cometh from above.” In 1787, he expressed himself to the same effect, as, in fact, he did to the end of life. The last entry in his journal, in reference to this memorable place,—a child, always with him a pet, though often troublesome,—was this: “1789, September 11—I went over to Kingswood: sweet recess! where everything is now just as I wish. But

‘Man was not born in shades to lie!’

Let us work now; we shall rest by-and-by. I spent some time with the children; all of whom behaved well: several are much awakened, and a few rejoicing in the favour of God.”

We must now bid a final adieu to dear old Kingswood school, the sacred scene of so many Methodistic memories, and turn to other matters connected with the conference of 1783.

The number of members was reported to be 45,955; but all these were Methodists within the limits of the United Kingdom. No account was taken of the 13,740 Methodists in America. No mention was made of Antigua, where nearly 2000 persons had joined John Baxter’s society; and where, in this very year, the first Methodist chapel in the torrid zone was completed.⁠[462]

Nova Scotia also is not noticed; though it had been the scene of a most blessed work, and William Black had written to Wesley, urgently asking him to send them preachers. The following were Wesley’s answers.

The second letter to William Black was as follows.

Such was the wish of William Black; and such was Wesley’s intention; but it was not until 1785, that Nova Scotia appeared in the minutes of conference as a Methodist circuit. “The harvest truly was great; but the labourers were few.” And yet all that offered were not accepted.

At the conference of 1783, there was present a young Welshman, of middle stature, thin and delicate, with a somewhat elongated face, an eye of genius, and a capacious forehead, who offered himself as an itinerant preacher, but whom Wesley and his brethren, from the delicacy of his health and the feebleness of his voice, thought not equal to the arduous labours of the itinerant office. He had been converted under the preaching of Samuel Bardsley, and, soon after his offer was declined by Wesley, was ordained by Bishop Horsley, and became vicar of Llanbister. The vicarage had a parlour, with a slab stone floor, an open chimney, and a hearth on which burnt a fire of wood and turf. It had a kitchen, and two upper rooms of the same humble character. For many a long year this was the home of the Rev. David Lloyd, “a philosopher, a poet, and a divine,” says Dr. Dixon, “who seemed to enjoy, with unmixed contentment, the inheritance given him by Providence.” For fifty years, his wife was a Methodist, and his parsonage a Methodist preachers’ home. Besides poetical works of considerable merit, the good vicar became the author of a large octavo volume of very valuable essays, entitled “Horæ Theologicæ.”⁠[465] Mr. Lloyd was a perfect enthusiast on the missionary question, and gave a subscription of £10 a year to the Methodist and Church missionary societies respectively; presented each with a donation of £500; and left the residue of his property, after other demands had been satisfied, to be equally divided between these two institutions. He also built a Methodist chapel on his estate, and secured it to the connexion by deed. Thus, as a diligent clergyman of the Church of England, and the friend and host of Methodist preachers, lived and died the good vicar of Llanbister,—a candidate rejected by the conference of 1783.⁠[466]

In the midst of this conference, Wesley was again seized with an alarming illness. Dr. Drummond attended him twice a day. His friends thought, that his end was come; and he himself apprehended that the cramp would probably reach his stomach, and occasion sudden death. “I have been reflecting on my past life”, said he to his faithful nurse, Joseph Bradford; “I have been wandering up and down between fifty and sixty years, endeavouring, in my poor way, to do a little good to my fellow creatures; and, now, it is probable that there are but a few steps between me and death; and what have I to trust to for salvation? I can see nothing which I have done or suffered, that will bear looking at. I have no other plea than this:

For eighteen days, Wesley hung between life and death, when, finding himself somewhat better, and “being,” as he says, “unwilling to be idle,” he spent an hour with the Bristol penitents. The day following, he preached twice, and, the day after that, on Monday, August 25, set out again on his much loved gospel ramblings. Death itself, to Wesley, was more desirable than life without work.

Preaching on his way at Gloucester, Worcester, and Birmingham, he came, on August 29, to Stafford, where he writes: “I preached, for the first time, to a large and deeply attentive congregation. It is now the day of small things here; but the grain of mustard seed may grow up into a great tree.”

Four years before this, Dr. Coke was passing through Stafford, and, while dining at the inn, sent the bellman round to announce to the inhabitants that he would preach in the market place. Jeremiah Brettell, his companion, took a table from the hostelry; the doctor mounted; the people came; all listened with deep attention; and some expressed a wish for the visit to be repeated. Soon after, a little society was formed,⁠[468] which, in 1784, consisted of sixteen members, Henry Robinson being leader.⁠[469]

From Stafford, Wesley made his way to Macclesfield, where he preached twice in the Rev. David Simpson’s church, and had a sacramental service, at which seven hundred communicants were present.

He was now proceeding to Birstal, to effect the settlement with the Birstal chapel trustees, as already related. The journey occupied sixteen days; the distance was five or six hundred miles; according to his wont, he preached all the way there and back; and yet, the old man, who a month before had been on the very verge of death, returned to Bristol on the 13th of September, almost as vigorous as ever.

An unpublished letter, belonging to this period, may be welcome here. It was addressed to John Atlay, his book steward.

Wesley remained in the neighbourhood of Bristol till October 6, and employed the interval, not only in preaching, but in begging money to relieve the distresses of the destitute, and in visiting the poor recipients at their own houses. “I was surprised,” says he, “to find no murmuring spirits among them, but many that were truly happy in God; and all of them appeared to be exceeding thankful for the scanty relief which they received.”

No wonder, that such a man was popular; and no wonder, that his presence was a loadstone drawing the poor around him. Sometimes, however, their absence would have been more welcome than their company. A month after this, Wesley was at Norwich, and, when leaving, had a whole host of poverty stricken people about his carriage. His purse was low, containing only what was necessary to take him back to London; and the clamour of the mendicant crowd, for once, disturbed his temper. Somewhat sharply he said: “I have nothing for you. Do you suppose I can support the poor in every place?” At the moment, he was entering his carriage; his foot slipped; and he fell upon the ground. Feeling as though God Himself had rebuked him for his hasty words, he turned to Joseph Bradford, and, with subdued emphasis, remarked: “It is all right, Joseph; it is all right; it is only what I deserved; for if I had no other good to give, I ought, at least, to have given them good words.”⁠[470]

The concluding months of the year were employed, as usual, partly in London, and partly in the surrounding counties.

Considering Wesley’s advanced age, his labours are without parallel. Here we have,—not a man of Herculean frame, big, brawny, and heavy, fed on the daintiest diet, and stimulated with the costliest wines,—but a man small in stature, his weight eight stones and ten pounds (exactly the same as it was fourteen years before), his age eighty, without indulgences, feeding, for eight months in every year, chiefly at the tables of the poor, sleeping on all sorts of beds and in all sorts of rooms, without a wife, without a child, really without a home; and yet a man always cheerful, always happy, always hard at work, flying with all the sprightliness of youth throughout the three kingdoms, preaching twice every day, indoors and out of doors, in churches, chapels, cottages, and sheds, and everywhere superintending the complex and growing interests of the numerous societies which had sprung into buoyant being through the labours of himself and his godly helpers. The man was a marvel, such as the world sees only now and then. Once show him the path of duty, and with a dauntless step he trod it. Nothing frightened him; nothing could allure from the post assigned to him by Providence. However arduous the work, and however great the privations and the dangers, if his Master bid him go, he went, trusting in his Master’s power for defence and help. “My brother Charles,” he once remarked, “amid the difficulties of our early ministry, used to say: ‘If the Lord would give me wings, I would fly.’ I used to answer, ‘If the Lord bid me fly, I would trust Him for the wings.’”⁠[471]

One of the last acts of this youthful octogenarian, in 1783, was to pay a pastoral visit to another of the most remarkable men of that period,—Dr. Samuel Johnson, who was now suffering his last illness, and died twelve months afterwards.

Wesley’s publications, in 1783, were the following.

1. “The Spirit of Prayer.” 24 pages, 12mo.

2. “Baxter’s Call to the Unconverted.” 76 pages, 12mo.

3. “The Important Question. A Sermon. By John Wesley.” 23 pages, 12mo.

Besides these, Wesley also published many new editions of former tracts, for the use of his recently instituted tract society, most of these reissues having upon the title page, “This tract is not to be sold, but given away.”

His principal publication, however, was his Arminian Magazine, and this was as vigorously conducted as before. Again, we have half-a-dozen original sermons, by Wesley himself, all of them remarkable, and among the most able that he ever published. These include his two discourses on good and fallen angels; in which he propounds the doctrine, that good angels minister to our happiness, by assisting us in our searches after truth, by preserving us in danger, by dreams, etc.: and that all evil angels are united under one common head; and are often the authors of accidents, diseases, fires, storms, and earthquakes. Then there is his elaborate sermon on “The Mystery of Iniquity,” in which he expresses the opinion, that the “greatest blow that genuine Christianity ever received was when Constantine the Great called himself a Christian, and poured in a flood of riches, honours, and power upon the Christians, more especially upon the clergy.” Next we have his curious homily on the Spread of Christianity, where he hazards the conjecture that truth will be transmitted from this nation to that, until at last it reaches the South Sea islands. And, finally, there are his characteristic sermons on Family Religion, and on Training Children. As usual, every number of the magazine has an article on the Calvinian controversy. Biographical accounts are still numerous. Extracts from his own Natural Philosophy, and from Locke’s Essay on the Human Understanding, form a part of each of the twelve numbers; as do also Benson’s letters in reply to Madan’s treatise on polygamy; likewise extracts from Dr. Hilldrop’s able “Thoughts on the Brute Creation,” professedly to prove a theory which Wesley liked, the ultimate restoration of the brute creation; and a series of profoundly thoughtful articles on “The True Original of the Soul.” Nine numbers have extracts from Baxter’s “Certainty of the World of Spirits, fully evinced by unquestionable Histories of Apparitions and Witchcrafts.” There are forty-five letters; forty-one poems; and a number of portraits, including those of John Hampson and William Thom, both of whom left the Methodist connexion. There are also long continued extracts from Bryant’s Analysis of Ancient Mythology, which Wesley pronounces to be “one of the most remarkable books, in its kind, which has been published for centuries.” And, finally, there are Wesley’s “Thoughts on the Writings of Baron Swedenborg.” The baron, a little before he died, presented Wesley with his last and largest theological work, the “True Christian Religion”; but he failed to make a convert of him. Wesley believed him to be insane, and traced his insanity to a fever, which he had in London, when “he ran into the street stark naked, proclaimed himself the Messiah, and rolled himself in the mire.” He was a “fine genius,—majestic though in ruins.”