1788.
Age 85
Wesley had published, in the ten volumes of his Arminian Magazine already issued, forty-two original sermons by himself; and he now ascertained, that a clergyman, in the west of England, intended to reprint them in a separate form. Wesley had been frequently solicited to do this himself; but had as often answered, “I leave this for my executors.” Now, to prevent piracy, he determined to be his own republisher; and issued these invaluable discourses, with a few others, in four volumes, 12mo; to which he prefixed a preface, from which the following characteristic extract is taken.
“Is there need to apologise to sensible persons for the plainness of my style? A gentleman, whom I much love and respect, lately informed me, with much tenderness and courtesy, that men of candour made great allowance for the decay of my faculties; and did not expect me to write now, either with regard to sentiment or language, as I did thirty or forty years ago. Perhaps they are decayed; though I am not conscious of it. But is not this a fit occasion to explain myself concerning the style which I use from choice, not necessity? I could even now write as floridly and rhetorically as even the admired Dr. B——; but I dare not; because I seek the honour that cometh from God only. What is the praise of man to me, that have one foot in the grave, and am stepping into the land whence I shall not return? Therefore, I dare no more write in a fine style than wear a fine coat. But were it otherwise, had I time to spare, I should still write just as I do. I should purposely decline, what many admire, a highly ornamental style. I cannot admire French oratory; I despise it from my heart. Let those that please be in raptures at the pretty, elegant sentences of Massillon or Bourdaloue; but give me the plain nervous style of Dr. South, Dr. Bates, or Mr. John Howe; and, for elegance, show me any French writer who exceeds Dean Young, or Mr. Seed. Let who will admire the French frippery, I am still for plain sound English.
“I think a preacher or writer of sermons has lost his way, when he imitates any of the French orators; even the most famous of them; even Massillon or Bourdaloue. Only let his language be plain, proper, and clear; and it is enough. God Himself has told us how to speak, both as to the matter and manner: ‘If any man speak’ in the name of God, ‘let him speak as the oracles of God’; and if he would imitate any part of these above the rest, let it be the First Epistle of St. John. This is the style, the most excellent style, for every gospel preacher. And let him aim at no more ornament than he finds in that sentence, which is the sum of the whole gospel, ‘We love Him, because He first loved us.’”
Wesley’s journal for the first two months of 1788 is lost; but existing letters show, that the time was spent in London. The following have not hitherto been published; and, though brief, refer to two subjects of the highest interest,—Sunday-schools and cottage prayer-meetings. The first was addressed to Duncan Wright, who was now at Bolton; the second to William Simpson, at Stockton upon Tees.
“London, January 9, 1788.
“Dear Duncan,—You send me a comfortable account of the work of God in your circuit. I cannot doubt but a blessing redounds to you all for the sake of the poor children. I verily think, these Sunday-schools are one of the noblest specimens of charity, which have been set on foot in England since the time of William the Conqueror.
“If Michael Fenwick has a mind to go to Dumfries and assist Robert Dall, you may give him three guineas, which he must husband well. He may write to me from thence.
“I am, dear Duncan, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
“London, January 18, 1788.
“Dear Billy,—You did exceeding well to enlarge the number of prayer-meetings, and to fix them in serious courts. I do not know that any means of grace whatever has been more owned of God than this.
“It is not now, but at the time of conference, that children are received into Kingswood school.
“I am glad sister Moor has not forgotten me. I hope sister Middleton also thinks of me sometimes. You are welcome to the four volumes of sermons.
“I am, dear Billy, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
Charles Wesley was now dying. Long, loving, and faithful had been the friendship between the two brothers. Their opinions had often differed; but their affection had never failed. Their most serious difference had been on the subject of separation from the Church of England, ordinations, and the administration of the sacraments; but, even on these matters, Charles, while writing strongly, never wrote unbrotherly. His last letter, in our possession, on these disputed topics, is as follows.
“April 9, 1787.
“Dear Brother,—I served West Street chapel on Friday and Sunday. Next Saturday, I propose to sleep in your bed. Stand to your own proposal: ‘Let us agree to differ.’ I leave America and Scotland to your latest thoughts and recognitions; only observing now, that you are exactly right. Keep your authority while you live; and, after your death, detur digniori, or rather, dignioribus. You cannot settle the succession: you cannot divine how God will settle it. Have the people of —— given you leave to die, E. A. P. J.?[606]
“I am, etc.,
“C. Wesley.”[607]
It would almost seem from this, that Charles was disposed to abandon his objections to the ordinations for America and Scotland; but, be that as it may, we have here some of his last thoughts respecting the Methodists. He evidently believed that, after his brother’s death, they would exist as a separated people, and he wished them to be governed by those of themselves who were worthiest.
Wesley loved his brother, and on February 18, 1788, addressed to him the following laconic note.
“Dear Brother,—You must go out every day, or die. Do not die to save charges. You certainly need not want anything as long as I live.
“John Wesley.”[608]
Ten days after this, Wesley left London, for his long northern journey, saying: “If I see it again, well; if not, I pray God to raise up others, that will be more faithful and more successful in His work! I find, by an increase of years, (1) Less activity; I walk slower, particularly up hill: (2) My memory is not so quick: (3) I cannot read so well by candlelight. But, I bless God, that all my other powers of body and mind remain just what they were.”
A month later, Wesley’s brother had entered into rest. They had parted, not to meet again till they met in heaven. Wesley, however, thought that his brother might recover. Hence the following, written on March 2.
“Dear Brother,—Many inquire after you, and express much affection, and desire of seeing you. In good time! You are first suffering the will of God. Afterwards, He has a little more for you to do: that is, provided you now take up your cross, (for that it frequently must be,) and go out, at least, an hour in a day. I would not blame you, if it were two or three. Never mind expense. I can make that up. You shall not die to save charges. Peace be with all your spirits!
“John Wesley.”[609]
Three days later he wrote again.
“March 5, 1788.
“Dear Brother,—I hope you keep to your rule, of going out every day, although it may sometimes be a cross. Keep to this but one month, and I am persuaded you will be as well as you were at this time twelve-month. Adieu!
“John Wesley.”[610]
Here, with one exception, epistolary correspondence between the two brothers ceased. Charles was too feeble to continue it, and his daughter became his substitute. In reply to one of her letters, Wesley wrote as follows.
“Bristol, March 7, 1788.
“My dear Sally,—When my appetite was entirely gone, so that all I could take at dinner was a roasted turnip, it was restored in a few days, by riding out daily, after taking ten drops of elixir of vitriol in a glass of water. It is highly probable, this would have the same effect in my brother’s case. But, in the mean time, I wish he would see Dr. Whitehead. I am persuaded there is not such another physician in England; although, to confound human wisdom, he does not know how to cure his own wife.
“He must lie in bed as little as possible in the daytime; otherwise it will hinder his sleeping at night.
“Now, Sally, tell your brothers from me, that their tenderly respectful behaviour to their father, (even to asking his pardon, if in anything they have offended him,) will be the best cordial for him under heaven. I know not but they may save his life thereby. To know nothing will be wanting, on your part, gives great satisfaction to, my dear Sally,
“Yours very affectionately,
“John Wesley.”[611]
To Samuel Bradburn, now stationed in London, Wesley addressed the following hitherto unpublished letter.
“Bristol, March 13, 1788.
“Dear Sammy,—With regard to my brother, I advise you: (1) Whether he will or no, (at least, if not done already,) carry Dr. Whitehead to him. (2) If he cannot go out, and yet must have exercise or die, persuade him to use —— twice or thrice a day, and procure one for him. (3) I earnestly advise him to be electrified; not shocked, but only filled with electric fire. (4) Inquire if he has made his will, though I think it scarcely possible he should have delayed it.
“The tunes, which brother Rhodes left with you, should be immediately printed in the cheap form. Kind love to Sophy.
“I am, dear Sammy, your affectionate friend and brother,
“J. Wesley.”
Four days later, Wesley wrote his last letter to his brother.
“Bristol, March 17, 1788.
“Dear Brother,—I am just setting out on my northern journey, but must snatch time to write two or three lines. I stand and admire the wise and gracious dispensations of Divine providence! Never was there before so loud a call to all that are under your roof. If they have not hitherto sufficiently regarded either you, or the God of their fathers, what is more calculated to convince them, than to see you so long hovering upon the borders of the grave? And, I verily believe, if they receive the admonition, God will raise you up again. I know you have the sentence of death in yourself: so had I more than twelve years ago. I know nature is utterly exhausted: but is not nature subject to His word? I do not depend upon physicians, but upon Him that raiseth the dead. Only let your whole family stir themselves up, and be instant in prayer; then I have only to say to each, ‘If thou canst believe, thou shalt see the glory of God!’ Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might. Adieu!
“John Wesley.”[612]
Another letter must be inserted, written three days after the above, to his niece, Miss Wesley.
“Worcester, March 20, 1788.
“My dear Sally,—Mr. Whitefield had, for a considerable time, thrown up all the food he took. I advised him to slit a large onion across the grain, and bind it warm on the pit of his stomach. He vomited no more. Pray apply this to my brother’s stomach, the next time he eats.
“One in Yorkshire, who was dying for want of food, as she threw up all she took, was saved by the following means: Boil crusts of white bread to the consistence of a jelly; add a few drops of lemon juice, and a little loaf sugar; take a spoonful once or twice an hour. By all means, let him try this.
“If neither of these avail, (which I think will not be the case,) remember the lady at Paris, who lived several weeks without swallowing a grain, by applying thin slices of beef to the stomach.
“But, above all, let prayer be made continually; and, probably, he will be stronger after this illness than he has been these ten years. Is anything too hard for God? On Sunday I am to be at Birmingham; on Sunday sennight, at Madeley. My dear Sally, adieu!
“John Wesley.”[613]
Nine days after this, on March 29, Charles Wesley died. It is a curious incident, that Wesley, at the time, was preaching in Shropshire, and (as was afterwards ascertained) he and his congregation, at the very moment of his brother’s exit, were singing:
Samuel Bradburn, the assistant in the City Road circuit, immediately dispatched a letter to Wesley, informing him of his brother’s death; but, in consequence of its being misdirected, it failed to reach him till April 4, the day before the burial. Wesley was at Macclesfield, and to get to London in time for the funeral was impossible. Hence the following letter to the bereaved widow.
“Macclesfield, April 4, 1788.
“Dear Sister,—Half an hour ago, I received a letter from Mr. Bradburn, informing me of my brother’s death. For eleven or twelve days before, I had not one line concerning him. The last I had was from Charles, which I delayed to answer, expecting every day to receive some further information. We have only now to learn that great lesson, ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!’ If it had been necessary, in order to serve either him or you, I should not have thought much of coming up to London. Indeed, to serve you, or your dear family, in anything that is in my power, will always be a pleasure to, dear sister, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”[615]
Wesley had no disposition to tell the deep sorrows of his heart; but that he severely felt the departure of his brother, there can be no question. A fortnight afterwards, when at Bolton, he attempted to give out, as his second hymn, the one beginning with the words, “Come, O Thou Traveller unknown”; but when he came to the lines,—
the bereaved old man sunk beneath emotion which was uncontrollable, burst into a flood of tears, sat down in the pulpit, and hid his face with his hands. The crowded congregation well knew the cause of his speechless excitement; singing ceased; and the chapel became a Bochim. At length, Wesley recovered himself, rose again, and went through a service which was never forgotten by those who were present at it.[616]
Wesley intended to write his brother’s life, and began to collect materials for it; but his other engagements were too numerous to admit of the fulfilment of his purpose. The following is the obituary published in the conference minutes.
“Mr. Charles Wesley, who, after spending fourscore years with much sorrow and pain, quietly retired into Abraham’s bosom. He had no disease; but, after a gradual decay of some months,
‘The weary wheels of life stood still at last.’
His least praise was his talent for poetry; although Dr. Watts did not scruple to say, that that single poem, ‘Wrestling Jacob,’ was worth all the verses he himself had written.”
This is not the place, nor indeed have we room for it, to write a critique on the life and character of this remarkable man. It would be easy to give the opinions of those who knew him,—Whitehead, Moore, Coke, Bradburn, Clarke, and Pawson,—some in favour, and others to the contrary. Suffice it to say, that, had he done nothing more than furnish the Methodists, and the church of Christ generally, with his incomparable hymns, in which so many millions have devoutly worshipped the God of heaven, he would have rendered service to the cause of truth and piety which no language can adequately describe. His “hymns, and psalms, and spiritual songs,” for a hundred and thirty years, have been the metrical liturgy of the people called Methodists, and to them countless multitudes have been indebted for not a few of their richest blessings.
True to his high church principles, Charles Wesley, instead of selecting the burial ground of his brother’s chapel in City Road, desired to be interred in the consecrated churchyard of St. Marylebone. This, to Wesley, was a painful disappointment. “It is a pity,” said he, in a letter to the Rev. Peard Dickenson, “but the remains of my brother had been deposited with mine. Certainly that ground is holy as any in England; and it contains a large quantity of ‘bonny dead.’”[617] So deeply did he feel this, that, seven weeks after his brother’s funeral, he wrote an article, at Dumfries, on the consecration of churches and burial grounds, which he published in his magazine; and in which, after showing, that there is no law of England, or of the English Church, enjoining such a practice, he remarks:
“Neither is it enjoined by the law of God. Where do we find one word, in the New Testament, enjoining any such thing? Neither do I remember any precedent of it in the purest ages of the church. It seems to have entered, and gradually spread itself, with the other innovations and superstitions of the Church of Rome. For this reason, I never wished that any bishop should consecrate any chapel or burial ground of mine. Indeed, I should not dare to suffer it; as I am clearly persuaded the thing is wrong in itself, being not authorised either by any law of God, or by any law of the land. In consequence of which, I conceive, that either the clerk or the sexton may as well consecrate the church, or the churchyard, as the bishop. With regard to the latter, I know not who could answer that plain question: You say, ‘This is consecrated ground, so many feet broad, and so many long’; but pray how deep is it? ‘Deep! what does that signify?’ Oh, a great deal! for if my grave be dug too deep, I may happen to get out of the consecrated ground! And who can tell, what unhappy consequences may follow from this! I take the whole of this practice to be a mere relic of Romish superstition. And I wonder, that any sensible protestant should think it right to countenance it; much more that any reasonable man should plead for the necessity of it! Surely it is high time now, that we should be guided, not by custom, but by Scripture and reason.”[618]
This was a heavy blow at his brother’s prejudice. Wesley himself resolved to be buried in the ground connected with the chapel in the City Road, and he wished his brother to be buried with him. To this Charles objected, because the ground had not been consecrated by a bishop! The objection was foolish; and the burial, in another place, occasioned considerable gossip. John Pawson, in a letter dated April 28, 1788, remarks: “Charles Wesley would not be buried at the new chapel, because it was not consecrated; nor by any of our ministers, but by one of his own choosing. He sent for the parson of the parish where he lived, and said: ‘Sir, whatever the world may have thought of me, I have lived, and I die, in the communion of the Church of England, and I will be buried in the yard of my parish church.’”[619] Wesley well knew that remarks like these were current; and he owed it to his people to publish his thoughts on a subject, which, however insignificant in itself, was not unlikely to be a gossiping gangrene in his societies.
Wesley’s affection for his brother was evinced in the continued kindness exercised towards his brother’s family. According to his own account book, he gave to them, in this the year of their bereavement, at least, two hundred guineas. He also assured his brother’s widow that, as long as he lived, he would help her to the utmost of his power. The two following letters may fitly draw the curtain on Charles Wesley’s death and burial.
“July 25, 1788.
“My dear Sister,—You know well what a regard I had for Miss Gwynne, before she was Mrs. Wesley. And it has not ceased from that time till now. I am persuaded it never will. Therefore, I will speak without reserve just what comes into my mind. I have sometimes thought you are a little like me. My wife used to tell me, ‘My dear, you are too generous. You don’t know the value of money.’ I could not wholly deny the charge. Possibly, you may sometimes lean to the same extreme. I know you are of a generous spirit. You have an open heart, and an open hand. But may it not sometimes be too open, more so than your circumstances will allow? Is it not an instance of Christian, as well as worldly, prudence, to cut our coat according to our cloth? If your circumstances are a little narrower, should you not contract your expenses too? I need but just give you this hint, which I doubt not you will take kindly from, my dear Sally,
“Your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”[620]
“December 21, 1788.
“My dear Sister,—It is undoubtedly true, that some silly people, (whether in the society or not I cannot tell,) have frequently talked in that manner, both of my brother and me. They have said, that we were well paid for our labours. And, indeed, so we were, but not by man. Yet, this is no more than we were to expect, especially from busybodies in other men’s matters. And it is no more possible to restrain their tongues, than it is to bind up the wind. But it is sufficient for us, that our own conscience condemned us not; and that our record is with the Most High.
“What has concerned me more than this idle slander is a trial of another kind. I supposed, when John Atlay left me, that he had left me one or two hundred pounds beforehand. On the contrary, I am one or two hundred pounds behindhand, and shall not recover myself till after Christmas. Some of the first moneys I receive, I shall set apart for you; and in everything that is in my power, you may depend upon the willing assistance of,
“Dear Sally, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”[621]
We must now return to Wesley’s journal. On the last day in February, he left London, for Bath and Bristol. The mayor of Bristol invited him to preach in the civic church, which invitation he accepted. His worship and most of the aldermen were present; and Wesley, fearing no man’s frown, and courting no man’s favour, took for his text the fearful narrative of the rich man and Lazarus; and then dined, with the rich men, at the rich man’s table, in the mansion house. The most remarkable incident, however, occurred in his own chapel on Thursday evening, the 6th of March. At that time, one of the great questions of the day was the subject of slavery; and Wesley had announced his intention to preach on it. The chapel, in consequence, was densely crowded, with both rich and poor. Wesley selected as his text, “God shall enlarge Japheth: and he shall dwell in the tents of Shem: and Canaan shall be his servant.” The rest we give in the words of Wesley himself. He writes:
“About the middle of the discourse, while there was on every side attention still as night, a vehement noise arose, none could tell why, and shot like lightning through the congregation. The terror and confusion were inexpressible. You might have imagined it was a city taken by storm. The people rushed upon each other with the utmost violence; the benches were broken in pieces; and nine tenths of the congregation appeared to be struck with the same panic. In about six minutes, the storm ceased, almost as suddenly as it rose; and, all being calm, I went on without the least interruption. It was the strangest incident of the kind I ever remember; and, I believe, none can account for it, without supposing some præternatural influence. Satan fought, lest his kingdom should be delivered up. We set the next day apart as a day of fasting and prayer, that God would remember those poor outcasts of men,” [the slaves,] “and make a way for them to escape, and break their chains asunder.”
The sceptic will sneer at Wesley’s solution; but, before he does so, he ought himself to supply a better. Opinions respecting this mysterious commotion will be different; but all parties will unite in admiring Wesley’s sympathy with the suffering slave. Wesley was the first Englishman who appointed a fast day to pray that slavery might cease.
On the 17th of March, Wesley set out on his journey to the north. Everywhere he had enormous congregations; and frequently was obliged, in wintry weather, to preach in the open air. Mrs. Fletcher, at Madeley, wrote: “I could not but discern a great change in him. His soul seems far more sunk into God, and such an unction attends his word, that each sermon was indeed spirit and life.”[622]
Exactly eight weeks were occupied in reaching the Scottish border; and, during this interval, Wesley preached more than eighty sermons, in fifty-seven different towns and villages. In seven instances, all in Yorkshire, he preached in churches. The crowds were greater than ever; and, almost in every place he visited, he found the work of God progressing.
On the 13th of May, Wesley visited Dumfries, where he had stationed Robert Dall, at the conference of 1787. Dumfries was without a chapel, and without a society; but Mr. Dall had just the sort of energy which such a place required; and Wesley knew it. The following letters to his home missionary have not before been published.
“London, December 1, 1787.
“Dear Robert,—You have reason to praise God, who has prospered you, and given you to see the fruit of your labours. Our all dispensing God has called us to preach the plain gospel. I am glad your hands are strengthened in corresponding with the brethren. I will desire any to change with you when you see it best, and, if I live till spring, please God, I will visit you at Dumfries.
“I am, with love to sister Dall, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
“London, February 11, 1788.
“Dear Robert,—I allow you to build at Dumfries, providing any one will lend a hundred guineas on interest
“I hope to see you, God willing, in May,
“I am, etc.,
“John Wesley.”
Robert Dall was one of Wesley’s favourites, and so was his Christian wife, to whom, said Wesley, in another unpublished letter now before us, “God has given both sense and grace.” This godly couple set all their energies to work; and, by begging of their friends in all parts of the United Kingdom, succeeded, in three months, in building the unique chapel which Wesley describes below. The effort was regarded as gigantic; and Wesley’s visit was a sort of triumphant top stone to the whole affair. “Such,” writes Mrs. Gordon Playdell to Mr. Dall, “such was the general prejudice against Mr. Wesley, that I really feared his coming would end your hopeful prosperity; but God has disappointed all my fears, and outdone all my hopes. The popularity, which met him here, was marvellous. The turn in his favour was such as none but God could have brought about. You have been all along respected, and the esteem for you grows more and more. Your pious, unwearied attentions to the poor criminals have increased the general regard for you, and your sermons in the jail been much approved.”[623] “Mr. Wesley,” wrote Charles Atmore, “was much pleased with Dumfries and you. He has given you a place in his journal, and what you have done at Dumfries will be a memorial of you to all generations.”
We could quote a large number of other letters relative to the same subject; but the above is a sufficient preface to the following racy extract from Wesley’s journal.
“May 13—To-day, we went through lovely roads to Dumfries. Robert Dall soon found me out. He has behaved exceeding well, and done much good here: but he is a bold man; he has begun building a preaching house, larger than any in Scotland, except those in Glasgow and Edinburgh! In the evening, I preached abroad in a convenient street, on one side of the town. Rich and poor attended from every quarter, of whatever denomination; and every one seemed to hear for life. Surely the Scots are the best hearers in Europe! At five, next morning, I was importuned to preach in the preaching house; but such an one I never saw before. It had no windows at all: so that, although the sun shone bright, we could see nothing without candles.”
Wesley’s next halting place was Glasgow. It had been widely reported, by some of the Scottish ministers, that he was about to publish a new edition of the Bible, and to leave out part of the Epistle to the Romans, St. John’s Apocalypse, and other portions of the inspired writings;[624] but, notwithstanding this, says Charles Atmore, in the letter before quoted, “he was far better received in Glasgow than ever.”
Here he spent three days; preached six sermons; gave an account concerning the rise and progress of Methodism; and ordained John Barber.[625]
Speaking of the Glasgow chapel, Wesley writes: “It will contain about as many as the chapel at Bath. But oh the difference! It has the pulpit on one side; and has exactly the look of a presbyterian meeting-house. It is the very sister of our house at Brentford. Perhaps an omen of what will be when I am gone.”
In his address on Methodism, which was delivered to the congregation, he remarked:
“There is no other religious society under heaven, which requires nothing of men in order to their admission into it, but a desire to save their souls. Look all around you, you cannot be admitted into the church, or society of the presbyterians, anabaptists, quakers, or any others, unless you hold the same opinions with them, and adhere to the same mode of worship. The Methodists alone do not insist on your holding this or that opinion; but they think and let think. Neither do they impose any particular mode of worship; but you may continue to worship in your former manner, be it what it may. Now, I do not know any other religious society, either ancient or modern, wherein such liberty of conscience is now allowed, or has been allowed, since the age of the apostles. Here is our glorying; and a glorying peculiar to us. What society shares it with us?”
From Glasgow, Wesley went to Edinburgh, where he wrote: “I still find a frankness and openness in the people of Edinburgh, which I find in few other parts of the kingdom. I spent two days among them with much satisfaction; and I was not at all disappointed, in finding no such increase, either in the congregation or the society, as many expected from their leaving the kirk.”
Wesley here recognises the Edinburgh Methodists as a separated people, in other words, a church; but adroitly intimates, that the result was not equal to what many of his friends had ventured to expect. How stands the case? In 1766, when the numbers were first given, Edinburgh circuit had 165 members of society, who, in the next four years, dwindled to 62. Then the circuit rallied, and, in four years more, the numbers rose to 287. In the next quadrennial period, we find them reduced to 161. In 1785, when the ordinations for Scotland took place, Edinburgh had 134 Methodists; now, in 1788, it had 330; which, however, at Wesley’s death in 1791, were reduced to 205. These are curious statistics; and help to cast light on Wesley’s meaning.
On May 25, Wesley reached Newcastle, which, for the next fortnight, was the centre of his labours. Two incidents, in connection with this visit, are worth recording.
Three years before, John Hampson, jun., greatly offended, had relinquished the itinerancy, and was now a clergyman at Sunderland. Strangely enough, Hampson invited Wesley to occupy his pulpit, and Wesley willingly accepted the invitation. The church was crowded both morning and afternoon.
The other incident occurred at Stanhope, famed “for nothing but a very uncommon degree of wickedness.” The preaching place was an upper room, and the congregation large. Presently, the main beam, that supported the room, gave way, and a frightful hubbub followed. “One man,” says Wesley, “leaped out of the window; the rest quietly went out; and nothing was hurt except a poor dog beneath the window. I then preached in the open air, to twice or thrice as many as the room would have contained, who were all attention.” This, which might have been a serious catastrophe, happened at five o’clock on a summer’s morning.
On the 9th of June, Wesley left Newcastle for the south. Reaching Darlington, he writes:
“Margaret Barlow came to me; and I asked her abundance of questions. I was soon convinced, that she was not only sincere, but deep in grace; and, therefore, incapable of deceit. I was convinced likewise, that she had frequent intercourse with a spirit that appeared to her in the form of an angel. I know not how to judge of the rest. Her account was:—‘For above a year, I have seen this angel, whose face is exceeding beautiful: her raiment white as snow, and glistering like silver; her voice unspeakably soft and musical. She tells me many things before they come to pass. She foretold I should be ill at such a time, in such a manner, and well at such an hour; and it was so exactly. She has said, such a person shall die at such a time; and he did so. Above two months ago, she told me your brother was dead; (I did not know you had a brother;) and that he was in heaven. And some time since, she told me, you will die in less than a year. But what she has most earnestly and frequently told me, is, that God will, in a short time, be avenged on obstinate sinners, and will destroy them with fire from heaven.’”
Wesley adds:
“Whether this will be so or no, I cannot tell; but when we were alone there was a wonderful power in her words; and, as the Indian said to David Brainerd, ‘They did good to my heart.’ It is above a year since this girl was visited in this manner, being then between fourteen and fifteen years old. But she was then quite a womanish girl, and of unblamable behaviour. Suppose that which appeared to her was really an angel; yet from the face, the voice, and the apparel, she might easily mistake him for a female; and this mistake is of little consequence. Much good has already resulted from this odd event; and is likely to ensue; provided those who believe, and those who disbelieve, her report, have but patience with each other.”
Marvellous! Who was Margaret Barlow? The answer involves an episode in Methodistic history.
In the conference minutes for 1778, John Blades is reported as one of Wesley’s itinerant preachers on trial; but, beyond this, he is never mentioned. Blades was a native of Northumberland, a weakminded fanatic, totally unfit for the itinerant work. Perhaps, for this reason, he was not appointed to a circuit. For some years, however, he acted, in the capacity of a local preacher, in the north of England. He then began to preach consummate nonsense respecting the privileges of believers, and, with such success that, when he left the Methodists in 1784, he was enabled to form separate societies in a large number of places in the county of Durham, and in the north of Yorkshire. Among his followers, who were called Bladonians,[626] was Ralph Hodgson, a miller at West Auckland, in whose house Margaret Barlow was a servant. We have before us a long unpublished letter, written by this dusty enthusiast, only a fortnight before Wesley’s interview with his servant girl at Darlington. It is addressed to “Mr. Richard Steel, Tanner, Wolsingham. With all possible speed”: and is dated, May 27, 1788. Hodgson tells his friend Steel that an angel from the Lord had appeared to him, and stated that the “wicked were about to be destroyed from off the face of the earth.” He also urges Steel to join with him in making this angelic revelation as widely known as possible.
It is a curious fact that Hodgson waited upon Wesley at Newcastle, for the purpose of converting him to his opinions; and that he accompanied his clairvoyant servant, Margaret Barlow, to meet Wesley at the house of Thomas Pickering, at Darlington. He also wrote a long letter, dated “West Auckland, October 26, 1788,” to the Rev. Mr. Agutter, St. Mary Magdalen college, Oxford, in which he informed that gentleman that Margaret Barlow had been his servant about two years; that she had attended the services of the Methodists; that an angel had appeared to her in the form of a female, and with a lustre brighter than the light of a thousand candles; that the angel had come to her in the daytime as well as night; and had made known to her the state of many who were dead, as well as many who were still alive; but that the principal matter, which the angel had revealed, was the exact day when the wicked would be destroyed. Margaret also had been much disturbed by the appearance of two evil spirits, both clad in black, and wearing horns; but the recital of her visions had produced effects great and blessed.
What was the result of all this religious raving? Margaret, at length, announced the exact day when the destruction of the wicked was to be accomplished. Intense excitement followed. Some sold their clothing and property, and distributed the proceeds among the poor; and others exulted at the thought of the possessions of the wicked being distributed among themselves. The day came, numbers having sat up all night to watch its dawning. Portentous signs appeared. The heavens gathered blackness, lightnings flashed, and thunders roared. At Barnardcastle it was the day of the weekly market. The people were frantic, some with hope, and some with fear. Cries were heard, “It is coming! It is coming!” The business of the market was suspended; and consternation was general. At length, the clouds were scattered, the heavens brightened, the day passed over, and all things continued as they were. The bubble burst; Blades, Hodgson, his wife, and Margaret Barlow were discredited, and fled across the Atlantic; where most, if not all of them, joined the shakers, whose principles and morals, to say the least, were capable of great improvement.
The reader will excuse this lengthened digression concerning a mad miller and his servant maid. We have purposely omitted the numerous stories, of a similar description, which Wesley has inserted in his journal and magazine; but one instance seemed necessary, to illustrate what was unquestionably a feature in Wesley’s character,—excessive credulity in receiving doubtful proofs of the existence and nearness of an unseen world of spirits. We are not inclined to say hard things concerning this. It was a weakness, but not a sin. Besides, though some of the stories, referred to, were ridiculously foolish, it would be rashness to deny that some of the others were strictly and startlingly true. And further, we honestly declare that, in an age like this, when the general tendency is to scepticism rather than to credulity, we should hail, as no bad omen, the appearance of a disposition, like that of Wesley, to cherish, not denounce, any and every evidence of another and future state of being.
On leaving Darlington, Wesley proceeded to Whitby, where he was advertised to open a new chapel; but, as often happens now, when the day arrived, the building was far from being ready. For want of stairs, the people had to be admitted to the gallery through one of the back windows near the pulpit; and, for want of a gallery front, a number of stalwart Yorkshiremen squatted themselves all round the gallery ledge, their backs protecting the people behind them, and their feet dangling over the heads of those below.[627] Wesley writes: