The whole of the Oxford Methodists intended to devote their lives to the service of the Church of England. This, at Oxford, was their highest wish and holiest ambition. The future was hidden from them,—fortunately so. Without this, their brotherhood would not have lasted for a single week; and many of the results of their godly intercourse would never have been realized. How different from the course of Clayton was that of Ingham; and how different again was that of Gambold from that of Whitefield and the Wesley brothers; and again, how different was that of Hervey and Broughton from any of the others! Men would have ordered it otherwise; but who will say that the way of Providence was not infinitely better? There may be much in the lives of men that is mysterious and perplexing; but of all the sincerely pious it may be confidently asserted,—“A man’s heart deviseth his ways, but the Lord directeth his steps.” The subject of the following memoir is no exception.
John Gambold was born April 10th, 1711, at Puncheston, in Pembrokeshire, South Wales. His father, a clergyman of the Church of England, lived an ornament to his profession, and was greatly respected, for his unaffected piety and purity of manners. The children of this devout minister were educated with the utmost care and attention, and no pains were spared to instil into their minds the principles and precepts of the Christian religion.
Nothing is known of the early life of young Gambold, except, that he was greatly benefited by his father’s instructions; and, at the early age of fifteen, went to the University of Oxford, where he entered as servitor in Christ Church College, and soon became eminent for his diligent devotion to reading and study. He was naturally of a vivacious and active spirit; and, besides his attention to his collegiate exercises, employed himself in an extensive perusal of the most approved dramatists and poets in the English language.[121]
Two years after he went to Oxford, his father died; and this event, together with the exhortations and counsels he received from the dying minister in his last moments, so affected him, that he at once abandoned poetry and plays, lost his liveliness of disposition, sunk into a state of melancholy, and made the salvation of his soul the chief business of life. Painful experience was the inspirer of a short poem of his, afterwards published in his collected works:—
Gambold entered Christ Church College in the same year that Charles Wesley did, the latter being more than two years older than the former. John Wesley also was a member of the same college, and twelve months before, on September 19, 1725, had been ordained a deacon. In 1729, the society of Oxford Methodists was formed by Charles Wesley; and, a year afterwards, Gambold, still only in his teens, became one of them. He shall narrate his own story, written when Wesley was in Georgia. The account is long; but, containing as it does a full description of the rise and peculiarities of the “Holy Club,” and a faithful delineation of the character and influence of their confessed “curator,” it is too important to be omitted. Gambold writes:—
“Mr. Wesley, late of Lincoln College, has been the instrument of so much good to me, that, I shall never forget him. Could I remember him as I ought, it would have very near the same effect as if he was still present; for a conversation so unreserved as was his, so zealous in engaging his friends to every instance of Christian piety, has left nothing now to be said, nothing but what occurs to us as often as we are disposed to remember him impartially.
“About the middle of March, 1730, I became acquainted with Mr. Charles Wesley, of Christ Church. I was just then come up from the country, and had made a resolution to find out some pious persons of religion to keep company with, or else to instil something of it into those I knew already. I had been, for two years before, in deep melancholy: so God was pleased to order it, to disappoint and break a proud spirit, and to embitter the world to me; as I was inclining to relish its vanities. During this time, I had no friend to whom I could open my mind, to any purpose. No man did care for my soul; or none, at least, understood its paths. They, that were at ease, could not guess what my sorrow was for. The learned endeavoured to give me right notions, and the friendly to divert me. But I had a weight upon my heart, which only prayer could in some degree remove. I prepared myself to make trial of the value and comfort of society, being a little recovered. One day, an old acquaintance entertained me with some reflections on the whimsical Mr. Wesley, his preciseness and pious extravagancies. Though I had lived with him four years in the same college, yet, so unable was I to take notice of anything that passed, that I knew nothing of his character; but, upon hearing this, I suspected he might be a good Christian. I therefore went to his room, and, without any ceremony, desired the benefit of his conversation. I had so large a share of it henceforth, that hardly a day passed, while I was at college, but we were together once, if not oftener.
“After some time, he introduced me to his brother John, of Lincoln College. ‘For,’ said he, ‘he is somewhat older than I, and can resolve your doubts better.’ This, as I found afterwards, was a thing which he was deeply sensible of; for I never observed any person have a more real deference for another, than he constantly had for his brother. Indeed, he followed his brother entirely. Could I describe one of them, I should describe both. And therefore I shall say no more of Charles, but that he was a man made for friendship; who, by his cheerfulness and vivacity, would refresh his friend’s heart; with attentive consideration, would enter into and settle all his concerns; so far as he was able, would do anything for him, great or small; and, by a habit of openness and freedom, leave no room for misunderstanding.
“The Wesleys were already talked of for some religious practices, which were first occasioned by Mr. Morgan, of Christ Church. From these combined friends, began a little society; for several others, from time to time, fell in; most of them only to be improved by their serious and useful discourse; and some few espousing all their resolutions and their whole way of life.
“Mr. John Wesley was always the chief manager, for which he was very fit; for he not only had more learning and experience than the rest, but he was blest with such activity as to be always gaining ground, and such steadiness that he lost none. What proposals he made to any was sure to charm them, because he was so much in earnest; nor could they afterwards slight them, because they saw him always the same. What supported this uniform vigour, was the care he took to consider well of every affair before he engaged in it, making all his decisions in the fear of God, without passion, humour, or self-confidence: for, though he had naturally a very clear apprehension, yet, his exact prudence depended more on humanity and singleness of heart. To this I may add, that he had, I think, something of authority in his countenance; though, as he did not want address, he could soften his manner, and point it as occasion required. Yet, he never assumed anything to himself above his companions. Any of them might speak their mind, and their words were as strictly regarded by him as his were by them.
“It was their custom to meet most evenings, either at his chamber or one of the others, where, after some prayers, (the chief subject of which was charity,) they ate their supper together, and he read some book. But the chief business was to review what each had done that day, in pursuance of their common design, and to consult what steps were to be taken the next.
“Their undertaking included these several particulars:—to converse with young students; to visit the prisons; to instruct some poor families; and to take care of a school, and a parish workhouse.
“They took great pains with the younger members of the University, to rescue them from bad company, and encourage them in a sober, studious life. If they had some interest with any such, they would get them to breakfast; and, over a dish of tea, endeavour to fasten some good hint upon them. They would bring them acquainted with other well disposed young men. They would help them in those parts of learning which they stuck at. They would close with their best sentiments, drive on their convictions, give them rules of piety, when they would receive them, and watch over them with great tenderness.
“Some or other of them went to the Castle every day; and another most commonly to Bocardo. Whoever came to the Castle was to read in the chapel to as many prisoners as would attend, and to talk to the man or men whom he had taken particularly in charge. Before reading, he asked: Whether they had prayers yesterday? (For some serious men among the prisoners read family prayers with the rest.) Whether they had read over again what was read last, and what they remembered of it? Then he went over the heads of it to them; and afterwards went on in the same book for a quarter of an hour. The books they used were the ‘Christian Monitor,’ the ‘Country Parson’s Advice to his Parishioners,’ and such-like. When he had done, he summed up the several particulars that had been insisted on, enforced the advice given, and reduced it at last to two or three sentences, which they might easily remember. Then he took his man aside, and asked him, Whether he was in the chapel yesterday? and other questions concerning his care to serve God, and learn his duty.
“When a new prisoner came, their conversation with him, for four or five times, was particularly close and searching. Whether he bore no malice towards those that did prosecute him, or any others? The first time, after professions of good-will, they only inquired of his circumstances in the world. Such questions imported friendship, and engaged the man to open his heart. Afterwards, they entered upon such enquiries as most concern a prisoner. Whether he submitted to this disposal of Providence? Whether he repented of his past life? Last of all, they asked him, Whether he constantly used private prayer, and whether he had ever communicated? Thus, most or all of the prisoners were spoken to in their turns. But, if any one was either under sentence of death, or appeared to have some intentions of a new life, they came every day to his assistance; and partook in the conflict and suspense of those who should now be found able, or not able, to lay hold on salvation. In order to release those who were confined for small debts, and were bettered by their affliction, and likewise to purchase books, physic, and other necessaries,—they raised a small fund, to which many of their acquaintance contributed quarterly. They had prayers at the Castle most Wednesdays and Fridays, a sermon on Sundays, and the Sacrament once a month.
“When they undertook any poor family, they saw them, at least, once a week; sometimes gave them money; admonished them of their vices; read to them, and examined their children.
“The school was, I think, of Mr. Wesley’s own setting up. At all events, he paid the mistress, and clothed some, if not all, of the children. When they went thither, they enquired how each child behaved; saw their work (for some could knit and spin); heard them read; heard them their prayers and catechism; and explained part of it.
“In the same manner, they taught the children in the workhouse; and read to the old people as they did to the prisoners.
“Though some practices of Mr. Wesley and his friends were much blamed,—as their fasting on Wednesday and Friday, after the custom of the Primitive Church,—their coming on those Sundays, when there was no sacrament in their own colleges, to receive it at Christ Church,—yet nothing was so much disliked as these charitable employments. They seldom took any notice of the accusations brought against them; but, if they made any reply, it was commonly such a plain and simple one, as if there was nothing more in the case, but that they had heard such doctrines of their Saviour, and believed and done accordingly,—‘Shall we be the more happy in another life, the more virtuous we are in this? Are we the more virtuous, the more intensely we love God and man? Is love, as all habits, the more intense, the more we exercise it? Is either helping, or trying to help man, for God’s sake, an exercise of love to God or man? Particularly, Is the feeding the hungry, the giving drink to the thirsty, the clothing the naked, the visiting sick persons, or prisoners, an exercise of love to God or man? Is the endeavouring to teach the ignorant, to admonish sinners, to encourage the good, to comfort the afflicted, to confirm the wavering, and to reconcile enemies, an exercise of love to God or man? Shall we be the more happy in another life, if we do the former of these things, and try to do the latter? Or if we do not the one, nor try to do the other?”
In the above extracts, the reader has the practices which principally distinguished the Oxford Methodists from their fellows. The account is full of interest, and of great importance, being written by one of the members of this godly brotherhood, and immediately after that brotherhood was broken up. The remainder of Gambold’s narrative is chiefly a defence and eulogy of Wesley, their “Curator;” and only such parts of it will be given as affect the whole of these earnest students. Gambold continues:—
“What I would chiefly remark upon, is the manner in which Mr. Wesley directed his friends.
“Because he required such a regulation of our studies, as might devote them all to God, he has been cried out upon as one that discouraged learning. Far from that;—the first thing he struck at in young men, was that indolence which would not submit to close thinking. Nor was he against reading much, especially at first; because then the mind ought to fill itself with materials, and try every thing that looks bright and perfect.
“He earnestly recommended to them a method and order in all their actions. After their morning devotions (which were at a fixed and early hour, from five to six being the time, morning as well as evening), he advised them to determine with themselves what they were to do all the parts of the day. By such foresight, they would, at every hour’s end, not be in doubt how to dispose of themselves; and, by bringing themselves under the necessity of such a plan, they might correct the impotence of a mind that had been used to live by humour and chance, and prepare it by degrees to bear the other restraints of a holy life.
“The next thing was to put them upon keeping the fasts, visiting poor people, and coming to the weekly Sacrament: not only to subdue the body, increase charity, and obtain Divine grace; but (as he expressed it) to cut off their retreat to the world. He judged, that, if they did these things, men would cast out their name as evil, and, by the impossibility of keeping fair any longer with the world, oblige them to take their whole refuge in Christianity. But those, whose resolutions he thought would not bear this test, he left to gather strength by their secret exercises.
“It was his earnest care to introduce them to the treasures of wisdom and hope in the Holy Scriptures: to teach them not only to endure that book, but to form themselves by it, and to fly to it as the great antidote against the darkness of this world. For some years past, he and his friends read the New Testament together at evening. After every portion of it, having heard the conjectures the rest had to offer, he made his observations on the phrase, design, and difficult places. One or two wrote these down from his mouth.
“He laid much stress upon self-examination. He taught them (besides what occurs in his Collection of Prayers) to take account of their actions in a very exact manner, by writing a constant diary. In this, they noted down in cipher, once if not oftener in the day, what chiefly their employments had been in the several parts of it, and how they had performed each. Mr. Wesley had these records of his life by him for many years past. And some I have known, who, to seal their convictions and make their repentance more solemn, would write down such reflections upon themselves as the anguish of their soul at that time suggested, adding any spiritual maxim which some experience of their own had confirmed to them.
“Then, to keep in their minds an awful sense of God’s presence, with a constant dependence on His help, he advised them to ejaculatory prayers. They had a book of Ejaculations relating to the chief virtues, and, lying by them as they stood at their studies, they at intervals snatched a short petition out of it. But at last, instead of that variety, they contented themselves with the following aspirations (containing acts of faith, hope, love, and self-resignation at the end of every hour)—‘Consider and hear me,’ etc.
“The last means he recommended was meditation. Their usual time for this was the hour next before dinner.
“After this, he committed them to God. What remained for him to do, was to encourage them in the discomforts and temptations they might feel, and to guard them against all spiritual delusions. In this spiritual care of his acquaintance, Mr. Wesley persisted amidst all discouragements. He overlooked not only one’s absurd or disagreeable qualities, but even his coldness and neglect of him, if he thought it might be conquered. He helped one in things out of religion, that he might be more welcome to help him in that. His knowledge of the world, and his insight into physic, were often of use to us.
“If any one could have provoked him, I should; for I was slow in coming into his measures, and very remiss in doing my part. I frequently contradicted his assertions; or, which is much the same, distinguished upon them. I hardly ever submitted to his advice at the time he gave it, though I relented afterwards. One time he was in fear, that, I had taken up notions that were not safe, and pursued my spiritual improvement in an erroneous, because inactive, way. So he came over and stayed with me near a week. He accosted me with the utmost softness, condoled with me the incumbrances of my constitution, heard all I had to say, endeavoured to pick out my meaning, and yielded to me as far as he could. I never saw more humility in him than at this time. It was enough to cool the warmest imaginations that swell an overweening heart. It was, indeed, his custom to humble himself most before the proud,—not to reproach them; but, in a way of secret intercession, to procure their pardon.
“He had not only friends in Oxford to assist, but a great many correspondents. He set apart one day at least in the week (and he was no slow composer) for writing letters; in which, without levity or affectation, but with plainness and fervour, he gave his advice in particular cases, and vindicated the strict original sense of the Gospel precepts.”[122]
This long account does something more than give a general idea of the Oxford Methodists and of their distinguished leader. It exhibits the course of life adopted by Gambold in his twentieth year. Like the rest of his youthful friends, he became an earnest religionist; but he was not happy. “He gave way to desponding thoughts; neglected his person and apparel; confined himself as much as possible to his room; and applied, in search of information and comfort, to the works of such authors as he supposed could satisfy his inquiries, namely, the fathers of the first ages of the Christian Church. Of these, the most abstruse were his greatest favourites, and particularly those which are called mystics. Being well versed in the Greek language, he was much pleased with that energy of expression in which it excels. The deep speculations of these ancient writers, their beautiful allusions, the richness of style with which they clothed their ideas, and the strain of piety running through the whole, suited his taste, and so far influenced his understanding, that he adopted their sentiments, went the same lengths with them in the scenes of imagination, and, by degrees, became so much like one of them, that his cast of mind bore a nearer resemblance to that which was peculiar in them, than to any that appeared among the modern. By a close attention to writers of this stamp, he contracted such a turn of mind, and imbibed such an exalted notion of internal purity, that he could not be satisfied with himself, unless he became such a refined being as those philosophical Christians portrayed. This being the state to which his aim was directed, he spared no pains to model himself according to the idea which he had formed of it. His exertions were abortive. Disappointment occasioned great concern;” and it was not until after years of laborious endeavour to form and establish a righteousness of his own, that he was led to submit to “the righteousness of God, by faith of Jesus Christ.”
In September, 1733, he was ordained, by Dr. Potter, Bishop of Oxford; and, as soon as he was capable of holding a living, was instituted to that of Stanton-Harcourt. In this sequestered village, where his parochial duties were not numerous, he had more leisure than was desirable to pursue his philosophical inquiries. He loved retirement, and seldom went abroad. But whenever he could prevail upon himself to visit any of his friends, and, among the rest, Lord Harcourt, he was received with much respect. His abilities, both natural and acquired, were great, but his unfeigned humility was so apparent to every one with whom he conversed, that, his superior powers excited no dislike in any. Indeed, his whole conduct was so inoffensive, that he very rarely, if ever, made himself an enemy. Still, his philosophical and platonic kind of religion failed to make him happy, and was of little use to his rustic parishioners. Four years were spent,—almost wasted,—in those high flights of imagination, deep speculation, intense reflection, and metaphysical reasoning, to which his natural disposition inclined him.
Meanwhile, his friendship with the Wesleys was continued. Charles returned from Georgia in the month of December, 1736; and, in the following February, speaks of meeting his “good friend Mr. Gambold,” at Oxford, who was “right glad to see” him. In fact, at this period and more or less for at least a year and a half afterwards, Kezziah Wesley, the youngest surviving sister of John and Charles, was domiciled with Gambold and his sister (who kept his house,) at Stanton-Harcourt. Poor Kezziah, from childhood, had been delicate, and her health had not been bettered by her residence at Lincoln, where, at nineteen years of age, she became a teacher in a boarding-school, and was painfully in want of both clothes and money. Her life was a wandering one. For a time, she lived in the house of the Vicar of Bexley, the Rev. Mr. Piers, and, afterwards, she resided with an aunt at Islington. It was not long that she needed the kindness of her friends, for, at the age of thirty-one, nearly a year and a half before the decease of her Christian mother, she peacefully expired, on the 9th of March, 1741.[123]
John Wesley landed in England on February 1, 1738; and, a week afterwards, met with Peter Böhler, just arrived from Germany. Within a fortnight, the two Wesleys, accompanied by Böhler, set out for Oxford, whence all the first brotherhood of Oxford Methodists were now dispersed. The elder Wesley writes:—
“I found not one of those who had formerly joined with me; and only three gentlemen who trod in their steps, building up one another in the faith.”
The nearest to Oxford was Gambold; and, accordingly, on February 18th, Wesley says:—
“We went to Stanton-Harcourt, to Mr. Gambold, and found my old friend recovered from his mystic delusion, and convinced that St. Paul was a better writer than either Tauler or Jacob Behmen.”
Gambold was already returning to gospel simplicity; and his acquaintance with Böhler rendered him service of the highest importance. Böhler held meetings in Oxford, attended both by members of the university and citizens. He delivered discourses in Latin, and Gambold interpreted them for the benefit of those of his audiences who were unfamiliar with that language. This friendship with the newly arrived German, proved the means, not only of the conversion of the two Wesleys, but, ultimately of Gambold also.
“After many struggles and conflicting thoughts, arising from repeated attempts to combine philosophy with the simplicity of the gospel; he, at length, by the grace of God, yielded to the power of the latter. He saw and lamented his natural depravity and consequent alienation from God, and also the insufficiency of his best works to merit heaven. He rejoiced in the sufficiency of the atonement of Jesus to sanctify and justify every true believer in Him. His former melancholy was dissipated; his spirit was made joyful in God his Saviour; and he became, in the fullest sense of the term, a new man.”[124]
The following letters will show the change which took place in Gambold’s views and feelings. The first was addressed to Wesley, and has never before been published. As will be seen, it was written three days before Wesley’s return from Georgia, and, consequently, before Wesley and Gambold became acquainted with Böhler. It is given here without abridgment, and verbatim.
“January 27, 1737-8.
“Dear Sir,—The point you mention has long been a difficulty to me; of which I could find no end, but that general solution of all doubt, and cure of all anxieties, resignation to eternal Providence. Can I offer a more particular solution now? No; but I will let you see, that I, and doubtless many more, labour under the same perplexity; which will incline one to believe, that, as God has a fire of grace to cleanse us from our common pollutions, so he has also a light in reserve, (and the needs of so many strongly call for it,) that would give a comfortable turn to our common speculations.
“O, what is regeneration? And what doth baptism? How shall we reconcile faith and fact? Is Christianity become effete, and sunk again into the bosom of nature? Was the short triumph of it over flesh and blood designed as the standing enjoyment, or standing humiliation of succeeding ages? Was the Church to condemn the world as God does, in order to meet and embrace it at last?
“What advantage would a deist make of the present appearance of things? He would say, that, when the gospel, by setting up some particular institutions, made a separation from natural religion, it was only an economical enmity;—the new dispensation did operate upon the old, as plaisters do upon the body, which, when they have spent their strength in expelling its diseases, drop off, and leave it sound, clean, and beautiful. That, the distance it stood in from it, was only a means to correct the prejudices, and manage the affections of mankind; and, as these ends were served, Christianity and natural religion were to come closer. That, the former was to lose its name in the latter, when its whole light was kindled up,—when the grace of a Redeemer, the inward touches of divine power, and the obligations of penance and self-denial, which were received for a while as extraneous appendages to natural religion, were found to be involved in the very bowels of it. That, the restitution of all things is the time when they shall fully be reconciled; when nature and grace shall be at their height, and the perfection of both be the same thing. That, this conclusion seems to be nigh us in the present age, when evangelical and moral virtue, which formerly stood in points so remote from each other, are so near falling into coincident lines, that, men have much ado to make any distinction that will hold in fact.
“But to come to the point. That regeneration is the beginning of a life which is not fully enjoyed but in another world, we all know. But how much of it may be enjoyed at present? What degree of it does the experience of mankind encourage us to expect? And by what symptoms shall we know it?
“Let us consult our observation as to the gradual progress of a religious life. At first, men are solicited with strong convictions of conscience: the pain of these and the sensible pleasure they feel as rewarding their acts of duty, are their bias to religion; while an overwhelming admiration of divine things, and a view to the issues of eternity, check their natural boldness and levity; at once abase and enlarge the understanding; and, from the anguish of hope and fear, produce zeal. Then, having reformed all crying disorders, and being prompt and expert in exercises of devotion, there is less matter for vehement remorse or fear; and the peace and congratulation of conscience hereupon being comfort sufficient, the more transporting flashes of joy are withdrawn; and thus, the man, having no religious passions, and being in war with corrupt passions, acquaints himself with the measures, motives, and fitness of virtues, and acts them in the strength of rational consideration.
“Here he labours long, and seems perhaps to have overcome all his vicious inclinations; (unless some one may show itself, more to his secret confusion and pain, than guilt,) being always in a posture of religious care, severity of thought, and habitual regularity of life. But then he complains of a general lukewarmness,—his intercourse with God is not enlivened with any particular successes, tender affections, or noble discoveries. For this he is much afflicted; yet, in the multitude of his thoughts within him, there is a good hope towards God at the bottom, which becomes more explicit by listening to the gospel. The redemption through Christ drops like balm into his soul, and he scruples not now to confess that his religious actions were but formal and worthless; yet, through gratitude to his Saviour and joy in Him, he is more ready than ever to continue the practice of them.
“Yet, he frequently falls into faintings and desolations. He is chiefly troubled at the opposition which self-love and pride make to the spirit of Christ within him. These make him unfaithful in the happy moments of grace, and infest him continually in his weaker intervals. Yea, he can trace them through every action of his life, and begin to see the depth and extent of his depravity. Hereupon, he keeps himself in constant recollection, to watch and resist it. He rejoices that, upon applying to God, a temptation vanishes; yet, very often it dwells so obstinately upon his mind, that his thoughts are shut up within the circle of their own folly and baseness, and he can only send groanings that cannot be uttered after the divine gift he once enjoyed. That gift, however, returns, and sometimes so long together, that he is able to form some idea of a spiritual life,—of the purity and long-suffering, the humility and charity, the magnanimity and singleness of heart, that are suitable for one in whom the Holy Spirit dwells. His desire insensibly sets him on work to procure those dispositions, which follow upon his wish; for the soul no sooner conceives the temper it would be in, but the body (being taught that obsequiousness by the strong recollection lately used, which suspends, clarifies, and determines the animal spirit) immediately furnishes the sensation, air, and whole energy of that temper.
“These smooth and ready emotions of virtue, which seem to give a man a more real and genuine possession of it than ever, do also encourage the mind to launch out in sublime theories; wherein it is much assisted by the repose and security it enjoys towards God, and by the delicate philosophic joy overflowing all the faculties, which raises the imagination to greater magnificence and sagacity. Here the grand system of Providence and all its various dispensations; the correspondencies of heaven and earth, of time and eternity; the gaiety and mournings of nature, and the greatness and abjectness of man; the saving mystery of human life, and the saving mystery of Christianity inserted into it;—all these are inquired into, not out of vain curiosity, but at the instigation of love, to salute the divine goodness in all its works. This is the meridian of the religious man. His notions and his virtues are at the height, in their full clearness and fervour. The love of holiness shines through him, and unites under it all the movements of nature. It commands and pierces all that converse with him. All, after this, is, to the eye of man, a decline and a fall; but a decline by a regular appointed path, and a fall into the arms of secret and infinite mercy. I need not explain to you what I mean; so I will shut up the description.
“Now, where in all these stages shall we place our regeneration? And what shall we say it is? There is reason to think, that, we have no more real goodness (except experience) in one of these states than another,—in the last than the first; we only fill our minds with new sets of ideas, and, by a temporary force, drive our constitution into something that seems answerable to them. Let this force cease, and we are the same as before; when we are in the most plausible posture of virtue, let us but sleep upon it, or otherwise remit the contention of the mind, and ’tis no more; affectation gives place to nature.
“But, you will say, the operation of grace is a real thing. It is so; but, for all the indications we commonly go by to prove the peculiar presence of it, it may be nowhere or everywhere to be found. Most people measure it by the relish they have for some particular schemes and draughts of religion. Little do they think, that, the persons whom they most condemn as unspiritual and deluded, abating for what is merely accidental, are in the same state of heart as themselves. It may be the same complexional turn of the soul, (God also speaking peace to it, and to every man in his own language,) that makes the mystic happy in his prayer and quietness, the solifidian in his imputed righteousness, and the moral man in a good conscience. Nay, perhaps, what many a man calls divine love and joy in the Holy Ghost, has nothing in it, beyond the alacrity of youth or good blood in other people, but a set of phrases and notions from the last book he read; which has given a determination to that natural vigour and sweetness of temper, that were indifferent to any other issue or exercise.
“I do not doubt but there is goodness in mankind, and a goodness of God’s inspiring too; but, I believe it more evenly distributed among them, and less annexed to particular ways of thinking and behaviour. Nay, that it is not so annexed even to Christianity, (though it does essentially depend on Christ, the universal Redeemer,) but, that, as it was in being before this particular institution, so it might be obtained if the initiating rite should happen to be wanting. Yet, this rite must always be used, for the same reason as it was at first appointed, to be memorial to mankind of what is continually done for them in their hearts. Therefore, it was attended with such extraordinary effects at first, that, by these manifestations of the divine life, the reality of it might be firmly believed and depended on in succeeding times, as well as sacramentally acknowledged. The same would still continue, if we had more faith in, and zeal for, the Christian institution; for, according as men believe and expect, God does unto them. But, at present, He seems to have let the Church drop into the world, and does not so much distinguish some from the rest, in righteousness and salvation.
“Whether this be a right state of things, I cannot tell; but it seems unavoidable when every one that is born, is, of course, a member of the Church. If the safety and tolerable piety of whole nations is thereby better provided for, the exemplariness and instruction of an elect city set upon a hill cease. It seems to be the order of Providence now, that none should have much holiness, that all may have a little.
“Dear sir, I have given no particular answer to your questions; but I have said something hastily, perhaps very wrong; but I know to whom Miss Wesley[125] gives her love, and would have written, but she is somewhat indisposed.
“Your affectionate brother and servant,
“J. Gambold.”
Such was Gambold’s philosophical religion, previous to his acquaintance with Peter Böhler. He was sincere and in earnest; but he was enveloped in a mystic fog. His was a grand attempt to save himself, but how the thing was to be accomplished he hardly knew. It was greatly to his credit, as it was also to that of Wesley, that he was willing to be taught, even by a German stranger. Twelve months after the date of the foregoing letter, Gambold wrote another equally important. In the interval, both he and the two Wesley’s had been “brought out of” Pharisaic and Philosophic “darkness into marvellous light.” The two letters have only to be compared to see the surprising change in the writer’s views. The following was addressed to Wesley’s brother Charles:—
“January 23rd, 1738-9.
“Dear Sir,—I understand that you have written to me, but the letter happened to be lost, and I did not receive it. Your brother desired me to reed his sermon for him; which, God willing, I shall do next Sunday.
“I have seen upon this occasion, more than ever I could have imagined, how intolerable the doctrine of faith is to the mind of man; how peculiarly intolerable, even to most religious men. One may say the most unchristian things, even down to deism; the most enthusiastic things, so they proceed but upon mental raptures, lights, and unions; the most severe things, even the whole rigour of ascetic mortification; and all this will be forgiven. But if you speak of faith, in such a manner as makes Christ a Saviour to the utmost,—a most universal help and refuge,—in such a manner as takes away glorying, but adds happiness to wretched man; as discovers greater pollution in the best of us than we could before acknowledge, but brings a greater deliverance from it, than we could before expect. If any one offers to talk at this rate, he shall be heard with the same abhorrence as if he were going to rob mankind of their salvation, their Mediator, and their hopes of forgiveness.
“I am persuaded that a Montanist, or a Novatian, who, from the height of his purity, should look down with contempt upon poor sinners, and exclude them from all mercy, would not be thought such an overthrower of the Gospel, as he who should learn, from the Author of it, to be a friend of publicans and sinners, and to sit down upon a level with them as soon as they begin to repent. But this is not to be wondered at. For all religious people have such a quantity of righteousness acquired by such painful exercise, and formed at last into current habits, which is their wealth both for this world and the next! Now all other schemes of religion are either so complaisant, as to tell them they are very rich, and have enough to triumph in; or else, only a little rough, but friendly in the main, by telling them their riches are not yet sufficient, but by such arts of self-denial and mental refinement, they may enlarge the stock. But the doctrine of faith is a downright robber. It takes away all this wealth, and only tells us it is deposited for us with some one else, upon whose bounty we must live like mere beggars. Indeed, they who are truly beggars, vile and filthy sinners till very lately, may stoop to live in this dependent condition; it suits them well enough; but those who have long distinguished themselves from the herd of vicious wretches, or have even gone beyond moral men,—for them to be told, that they are either not so well, or but the same needy, impotent, insignificant vessels of mercy with the others,—this is more shocking to reason than transubstantiation; for reason had rather resign its pretentions to judge what is bread or flesh, than have this honour wrested from it, to be the architect of virtue and righteousness.
“But whither am I running? My design was only to give you warning, that, wherever you go, this foolishness of preaching will alienate hearts from you, and open mouths against you. What are you then to do, my dear friend? I will not exhort you to courage; we need not talk of that, for nothing that is approaching is evil. I will only mention the prejudice we shall be under if we seem in the least to lay aside universal charity and modesty of expression. Though we love some persons more than we did, let us love none less; and the rather, because we cannot say any one is bad, or destitute of divine grace, for not thinking as we do. He only less apprehends, less enjoys that in Christianity, which is the refuge of the weak and miserable, and will be his when he finds himself so. Indignation at mankind is a temper unsuitable to this cause. If we are indeed at peace with God in Christ, let it soften our demeanour still more, even towards gainsayers. Let them reject us: till then, and (as far as it will be admitted,) afterwards, let our friendship with them continue inviolate.
“Then as to expressions. What has given most offence hitherto, is what, perhaps, may be best spared,—as some people’s confident and hasty triumphs in the grace of God; not by way of humble thankfulness to Him for looking upon them, or acknowledgment of some peace and strength unknown before; but insisting on the completeness of their justification, the completeness of their deliverance already from all sin, and taking to them every apostolical boast in the strongest terms. I do not deny but power over sin, and every Gospel privilege, are bestowed, perhaps, in as large a degree, in the beginning of grace, as at any time afterwards; for it depends upon the actual operation of the Spirit that moment upon the heart, not on a mere federal or habitual union with Him; and his operation is particularly strong at the first entrance upon a new life. Yet, as such converts must remember, that, as this absolute degree of innocence, excluding for the most part even the first motions of sin, may soon depart from them, and be given them but sometimes; though till they fall from God, they will still be free from wilful sins; so while it continues, it is the most slippery and dangerous thing, among all the blessings they receive, for themselves to reflect much upon, and the most exceptionable that they can talk of to other men. Let us speak of everything in such a manner, as may convey glory to Christ, without letting it glance on ourselves by the way.
“John Gambold.”[126]
Though exception may be taken to some of the expressions, yet the above is a most admirable letter; and shows that Gambold had embraced the same faith as Wesley,—sinners are saved solely through the merits of Christ Jesus; and on the simple exercise of faith in Him. It was not without a struggle that he was brought to this conviction. Peter Böhler said to Wesley, “My brother, my brother, that philosophy of yours must be purged away.” The same might have been said to Gambold. His learning had to give place to the simple teaching of the Word of God. He had to relinquish philosophical theories; and submit to the authoritative utterances of Christ and of His Apostles. Reason had to bend to revelation. In the case of a sincere and earnest man, like Gambold, this mental transformation was not a trifle. He himself, in a letter without date, and apparently addressed to Wesley, refers to the difficulties, and obstacles he encountered. His very learning was a hindrance in the way of his being saved; and he was reluctantly convinced, that, when “the aphorisms of learning pretend to describe and circumscribe the process of salvation, then the words of any one who has but a good heart and common sense, are generally more complete than those of a finished divine; and tally better with the unsearchable divine economy.” He continues:—
“These obstacles of nature’s education, I have often sighed under; and, imagining I knew where the shoe pinched in your case also, I advised the most artless, direct, and confident laying hold of the Scripture declaration, without the ceremony and circuitions of a man of learning, and a man of prudence, or a man of decorum, but simply as a plain man, who wants for his own soul to experience the manifestation of redeeming grace. The words of our Saviour and His apostles, which I said we are to take quite simply, are such as these,—‘Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ ‘Him that cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast out.’ ‘He that believeth, shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.’ ‘If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.’ ‘My grace is sufficient for thee; for My strength is made perfect in thy weakness.’ ‘This is a faithful saying, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners,’ etc., etc.”
There is another letter, written by Gambold, during his transition state, which further illustrates his views and feelings at this important crisis. It was addressed “to a studious young lady,”—probably Kezziah Wesley,—and concerning it Wesley himself remarks:—“It well deserves the attention of the serious and sensible reader. Indeed, unless read with a good deal of attention, it will scarce be understood, the thoughts are so deep, and so concisely expressed.” The following are brief extracts:—