Mr Wesley removed to Epworth sometime during the year 1696 or 1697. This point is clearly settled by the inscription on his tombstone, which states that he died April 25, 1735, and that he had been Rector of Epworth thirty-nine years.

Epworth, in the county of Lincoln, is a small straggling market town, of about two thousand inhabitants. It is situated in what is called the Isle of Axholme, a low-lying district, ten miles long and four broad, surrounded by the three rivers, Trent, Don, and Idle. The island contains thirty-seven thousand eight hundred acres of land, and is divided into the seven parishes of Epworth, Althorpe, Belton, Crowle, Haxey, Luddington, and Owston, with their respective hamlets attached. Until within a short time before Mr Wesley’s removal to Epworth, the whole of this district was little better than a swamp; but, at a great expense, it had recently been drained, and it is now exceedingly rich and fertile. Epworth stands in the centre of the island, and on the side of a small sloping hill. The view from the churchyard is extensive, terminating on the north with the Yorkshire wolds, and on the south with Gringley-on-the-Hill; on the east with the town of Kirton, and on the west with the spire of the church of Laughton-en-le-Morthen.

Epworth church is dedicated to Saint Andrew, and consists of a nave, of aisles, of a chancel, and a tower. The parsonage, first occupied by Mr Wesley, is thus described in a document dated 1607:—“It consists of five baies, built all of timber and plaster, and covered with straw thatche, the whole building being contrived into three stories, and disposed in seven chiefe rooms—a kitchinge, a hall, a parlour, a butterie, and three large upper rooms, and some others of common use; and also a little garden empailed betwine the stone-wall and the south, on the south.” There was also “one barn of six baies, built all of timber and clay walls, and covered with straw thatche; with outshotts about it, and free house therebye.” There was likewise, “one dovecoate of timber and plaister covered with straw thatche;” and, finally, there was “one hemp-kiln, that hath been usealeie occupied for the parsonage ground, and joyning upon the south.” The entire site of the parsonage and its adjuncts covered about three acres.^[106] Here Samuel Wesley lived for about nine and thirty years. Let us trace his history.

Very shortly after his removal to Epworth, his daughter Mehetabel was born. Henry Moore and Adam Clarke say, she was her mother’s tenth or eleventh child; but that is an evident mistake, for Mehetabel was born in 1697, which was only the eighth year after her mother’s marriage.^[107] The whole of the Wesley family were gifted with poetic genius, but Mehetabel perhaps shone the brightest, Samuel and Charles not excepted. From her childhood, she was gay and sprightly, full of mirth, good humour, and keen wit. At the early age of eight years, she had made such proficiency in learning, that she could read the Greek Testament. When about twenty-seven years of age, she was prevented marrying a man whom her father called “an unprincipled lawyer;” and, in the height of her vexation, made the rash vow, either never to marry another, or to take the first that might offer. Shortly after, she had an offer of marriage from a man named Wright, a journeyman plumber and glazier. Her father, fearing that she might still marry the man who had jilted her, urged her to marry Wright. She unhappily did so, and found her husband to be utterly unsuited to her in all respects. Her uncle Matthew gave her a small marriage portion, and, with this, Wright set up business for himself. He then began to associate with low dissolute companions, spent his evenings from home, became a drunkard; and, by ill-treatment, broke the heart of his wife. In a most exquisite poetical address to her husband, she speaks of her “heart-breaking sighs and fruitless tears;” often does she spend “half the lonely night” in waiting for her absent husband, and then, on his coming home from his carousals, “curbs her sighs, conceals her cares,” dashes away her tears; and, to please him, puts on a cheerful “smile.” But despite all her attention and her tenderness, he still runs to “obscure and unclean retreats,” and associates with drunken blackguards, who, as a great achievement, grin at “obscene jests and witless oaths.” She then concludes her poem with the threat, that if this effort to regain his affection fails, she will abandon patience, and give herself up to rage and grief, until death restores to Wright his liberty, and gives him the opportunity “to laugh when Hetty is no more.”^[108]

Her husband carried on his business of plumbing and glazing in Frith Street, Soho, London. They had several children, all of whom died young. On the death of one of her infants in 1728, she wrote the following beautifully pathetic, but sad and saddening poem:—

These almost inimitable lines were sent to the Rev. John Wesley by Mehetabel’s wretched husband, and were accompanied by the following letter, which is given here, as a contrast to his wife’s poem, and to show how the two were utterly unsuited for each other:—

Dr Adam Clarke observes, that Wright’s letter is, like the ancient Hebrew, without points.

We cannot resist the temptation to give another poetic extract, as illustrative of Mehetabel Wesley’s fine genius. It is selected from a poem, entitled, “A Farewell to the World,” and refers to past days of happiness spent in the company of her sister Mary. After speaking of their visits to the poor and sick, she writes:—

This remarkable woman, in after years, found peace with God. Charles Wesley speaks of her as “a gracious, tender, trembling soul; a bruised reed, which the Lord will not break; still harassed with ‘darkness, doubts, and fears,’ but against hope believing in hope.” This was a few days before she died, in the year 1750.^[110] John Wesley says, that for some years before her death she was “a witness of that rest which remains even here for the people of God.”^[111][112] Mr Kirk justly remarks, that a careful analysis of Mehetabel’s mental powers, a full estimate of her highly poetic genius, and a complete collection of her poems, would form a volume of no ordinary interest and value.

But to return to the parents of this gifted woman:—Very soon after their settlement at Epworth, Susannah Wesley was bereaved, by death, of her sister Dunton. Her father died just before the removal to Epworth; her sister just after. This double bereavement was a most painful trial. Elizabeth Dunton, like her sister Susannah Wesley, was a remarkable woman. From her childhood she was pious. She was so thoroughly acquainted with the Holy Scriptures, that, if any text was quoted, she could at once tell the book, chapter, and verse where it might be found. For nearly twenty years, she kept a diary, and wrote so copiously, that her experiences and meditations, if printed, would have filled a folio. “She was a lover of solitude; and Sabbaths, sermons, and sacraments were the best refreshments she met with in her way to glory. Her mind was always full of charity towards those who might differ from her in matters of opinion. She loved the image of Christ wherever it was formed. In her last sickness, which lasted about seven months, she never uttered a repining word; and throughout the whole there was no doubt upon her spirit as to her future happiness. Among her last utterances were the following:—‘Heaven will make amends for all; it is but a little while before I shall be happy. I have good ground to hope that when I die, through Christ, I shall be blessed. It is a solemn thing to die. Oh, this eternity! There is no time for preparing for heaven like youth. I look back with joy on some of the early years that I sweetly spent in my father’s house. Oh, what a mercy it is to be dedicated to God betimes!’”betimes!’”^[113]

At her own desire, she was buried in Bunhill Fields. Her funeral sermon was preached by the Rev. Timothy Rogers, M.A., and was published in a volume of nearly three hundred pages.^[114]

The following is Dunton’s description of her before their marriage:—“Tall; of good aspect; hair of light chestnut colour; dark eyes; mouth small and sweet; air somewhat melancholy, but agreeable; neck long and graceful; complexion fair; piety scarce paralleled, and wit solid. She is sweetly modest, and has all kinds of virtues. She is an agreeable acquaintance, a trusty friend, and is mistress of all the graces that make a perfect woman.”

In another place he writes concerning her:—“For the fifteen years we lived together there never passed an angry look. Her sympathies with me, in all the distresses of my life, make her virtues shine with the greater lustre. Like the glow-worm, that emblem of true friendship, she shined to me, even in the dark. My head no sooner ached, but her heart felt it. To requite her love I would have stripped myself to my very skin; yea, mortgaged my very flesh to have served her. Indeed all our distresses of body and mind were so equally divided, that all hers were mine, and all mine were hers.”

Dunton desired Samuel Wesley to write an epitaph for his departed wife. Wesley complied with the request, and with the epitaph sent the following significant epistle:—

The epitaph was as follows, and is engraved on Mrs Dunton’s tomb:—

This epitaph was written within two months after Mrs Dunton’s death. Dunton was professing unutterable distress on account of his wife’s decease, and Wesley, in his epitaph, represents him as resolved to heave his agonizing sighs until death should re-unite them in a more blissful world than this; and yet, in the midst of all this pretended blubberment, Dunton was sweethearting another lady, and, before the year was out, actually made her his second wife. It is more than probable that Samuel Wesley had some knowledge of this unseemly haste to contract another matrimonial alliance, when, in the foregoing letter, he expressed the hope that the epitaph for Dunton’s dead wife would come to hand before he needed an epithalamium for his second one.

Wesley and Dunton had been warm and faithful friends for, at least, the last fifteen years; but, from this period, their friendship seems to have entirely ceased, and, ever after, Dunton speaks of his old friend with unmistakable animosity. “Now my purse is empty,” snarls Dunton, “nobody knows me. There is the rector of Epworth, that got his bread by the Maggots I published. He has quite forgotten me.” Again—“My old friend, Mr Samuel Wesley, was educated upon charity in a private academy, if we may take his own word for it in his late pamphlet, which was designedly written to expose and overthrow those academies. One would have thought that, either gratitude or his own reputation among his relations and best friends, might have kept him silent, though when a man is resolved to do himself a mischief, who can help it. Mr Wesley had an early inclination to poetry, but he usually wrote too fast to write well. Two hundred couplets a day are too many by two-thirds to be well furnished with all the beauties and graces of that art. He wrote very much for me, both in verse and prose, though I shall not name over the titles, because I am as unwilling to see my name at the bottom of them, as Mr Wesley would be to subscribe his own. Mr Wesley had read much, and is well skilled in the languages; he is generous and good-humoured, and caresses his friends with a great deal of passion so long as their circumstances are anything in order, and then he drops them. I challenge the rector of Epworth (for he is not yet ‘My Lord,’ nor ‘His Grace,’) to prove that I injure him in his character. I could be very maggoty in the character of this conforming Dissenter; but, except he further provokes me, I bid him farewell till we meet in heaven, and there I hope we shall renew our friendship; for, human frailties excepted, I believe Sam. Wesley a pious man. I shall only add, that giving this true character of Parson Wesley, is all the satisfaction I ever desire for his dropping an old friend. I shall leave him to struggle through life, and to make the best of it; but, alas!

I do not speak this out of prejudice to Mr Wesley; (for to forgive a slight is so easy to me, it is scarce a virtue,) but this rhyming circumstance of Mr Wesley is what I learn from the poem called, ‘The Reformation of Manners,’^[117] where are these words:—

All this is despicable growling. Dunton accuses Wesley that he had ceased to be his friend, or, to use his own word, which twice over he has italicised, because he had dropped him. But what of that? Had Wesley not had cause to drop him? Was it nothing that this man, who for fifteen years had been blessed, in the sister of Susannah Wesley, with one of the best wives that ever lived, began to sweetheart another within two months after she was dead, though all the while he was indulging in noisy grief for his irreparable loss, and was urging Wesley to write both an epitaph and an elegy, for the devoted and exalted woman whose place at his hearth and in his bed he was labouring to fill up with another? Was it surprising that Samuel Wesley should resent this insult to the memory of his wife’s sister, and that he should drop the friendship of a man who was making himself such a fool? Wesley was no longer Dunton’s friend; but there is no evidence that he became Dunton’s enemy. On the contrary, when Dunton was crushed with financial embarrassments, Mr Wesley was not only a creditor, but the chief creditor, and wrote to Dunton assuring him that he should do nothing to his prejudice.^[119] Dunton himself confesses this; and yet, with consummate and most ungrateful impudence, not only whines about Wesley’s dropped friendship, but malignantly endeavours to injure Wesley’s fair character.

Dunton, in the foregoing extract, insinuates that Wesley had written articles (we presume in the Athenian Gazette) which were discreditable both to him and to his publisher; but, in the absence of something more than insinuation, and taking into account the general character of Wesley’s acknowledged writings, it is not unfair to say that Dunton’s inuendo is as baseless as it is base.

Dunton intimates that Wesley had sought to be made a bishop, and had cast a longing eye on even the dignity of an archbishop. The same thing has been broadly uttered in a life of Defoe, recently written by William Chadwick. This pungent and scurrilous author says:—“Wesley made his way by flattering royalty; he could write either prose or poetry, and dedicate his work to the queen for the time being, and then ask for a living as the reward of his services. The rectory of Epworth was one produce of his pen, Queen Mary being the patron. The neighbouring living of Wroot he obtained for bedaubing with poetic flattery the Duke of Marlborough, after his victory of Blenheim; and his traducing of the Dissenters in the eventful year of 1703, was intended, through the royal patronage, to send this time-serving flatterer into the Archbishopric of Canterbury, upon the back of that unprincipled miscreant, Dr Sacheverell.”^[120]

The man that wrote this is as unprincipled as he says Sacheverell was. His assertions are a tissue of falsehoods, in support of which he adduces no evidence whatever. Samuel Wesley would have done no dishonour to a bishop’s bench, but we fearlessly deny that there is any proof existing, except such as is found in mean insinuations, like those of John Dunton, that Samuel Wesley ever even “desired a bishop’s office, much less that he wrote his books for the purpose of obtaining it.” The whole thing is an unfounded and slanderous accusation, more disgraceful to the accusers than it is injurious to the accused. Chadwick, no doubt, founds his imputations against Wesley upon casual remarks made by men like Dunton; but when Dunton and others fail to adduce proof, it is only fair to doubt their correctness, inasmuch as they are obviously animated by a malevolence which never scruples to utter falsehoods that are likely to blacken the character of the man it hates.

So far as can be ascertained, the first thing Mr Wesley published, after his removal to Epworth, was a “Sermon preached before the Society for the Reformation of Manners.” This sermon was delivered, first, at St James’s Church, Westminster, Feb. 13, 1698, about twelve months after the settlement at Epworth, and was afterwards repeated at St Bride’s. The text is, “Who will rise up for me against evildoers? or who will stand up for me against the workers of iniquity?” (Psalm xciv. 16;) and it is a curious fact that, sixty-five years after, John Wesley preached before the same society, from the same text, in West Street Chapel, Seven Dials.^[121]

The Society for the Reformation of Manners was first instituted about the year 1677, which was just before Samuel Wesley became a student in the Stepney Academy. At that time Dr Anthony Horneck was at the height of his useful popularity. Horneck was educated first at Heidelberg, under the celebrated Spurzheim, and afterwards at Queen’s College, Oxford. After exercising his ministry in Oxford, and at Doulton, in Devonshire, he, in 1671, became preacher at the Savoy in London. At the Revolution he was honoured with the appointment of chaplain to King William and Queen Mary, and in 1693 became prebendary of Westminster. He died in 1696. He was a man of extensive learning; particularly conversant with the Oriental languages, ecclesiastical history, controversial theology, and casuistry, and was the author of several pious and learned works. Dunton says “he was a man of so great usefulness that none saw him without reverence, or heard him without wonder.”

Another popular and useful preacher, belonging to the same period, was Mr Smithies, who was curate of Cripplegate for thirty years, and preached the morning lecture at St Michael’s, Cornhill, where he was so well beloved that he sought no other preferment. The eccentric writer last quoted says, “His faithful and excellent preaching commanded the attention of men, and his constancy in it procured their love. He was a most humble and hearty Christian, and his practical books were in great esteem.”

A third distinguished man must here be mentioned—William Beveridge. At the university, Beveridge so much excelled in the learned languages, that, at the age of eighteen, he wrote a Syriac grammar, and a treatise on the excellency and use of the Oriental tongues. Three years after, in 1661, he became vicar of Ealing, in Middlesex, and subsequently he was appointed Rector of St Peter’s, Cornhill, Prebend of St Paul’s, &c. In 1691, the see of Bath and Wells was offered him, but he declined accepting it. In 1704, he became Bishop of St Asaph; and, in this elevated station, prosecuted with great zeal and diligence every practicable measure for advancing the interests of religion. He died in 1708, and left the greatest part of his estate to the societies for propagating the gospel, and for promoting Christian knowledge. Beveridge was a voluminous author; and, as a preacher, was so successful, especially at St Peter’s, Cornhill, that he was denominated “the great reviver and restorer of primitive piety.”

The earnest preaching of these three godly ministers was the means of converting a considerable number of young men who applied to them for religious counsel. Beveridge, Horneck, and Smithies advised them “to meet together once a week, and to apply themselves to good discourse and things wherein they might edify one another.” They acted upon this advice, and, at every meeting, made a collection for the poor. By means of the fund thus provided, numbers of poor families were relieved, and some were put into a way of trade; sundry prisoners were set at liberty by the payment of their debts, several orphans were maintained, and a few poor scholars received assistance at the university.^[122]

These converted young men soon found the benefit of their weekly conferences with each other. Each person related his religious experience to the rest, and thus they became the means of building themselves up in the faith of Christ. The reader will at once perceive that John Wesley’s United Societies of Methodists, with their weekly class meetings, instituted sixty-two years afterwards, were almost, if not altogether, an exact revival of these weekly meetings, begun in 1677.

For the better management of their charitable fund, two stewards were elected in 1678. The meetings were continued until the accession of James II. in 1685. At this period, all private meetings began to be regarded with suspicion, and the result was, that some of the members of these pre-Methodist societies ceased to attend such weekly assemblies for Christian fellowship; others became lukewarm in religious matters; and some became extravagant and vain. A few, however, continued faithful, and resolved to exert themselves to the utmost in maintaining and increasing the purity and power of religion in themselves and others. At their own expense, they set up public prayers, every evening at eight o’clock, at St Clement Danes, where there was always a full congregation. They also instituted, in the same church, an evening monthly lecture, which was preached by the most eminent divines in London. All this excited attention. The Papists, then in power, regarded these young Christians with hatred and anxiety, and exercised their malignant cunning to ensnare them. Just at this juncture, and probably for political reasons, the name of “Society” was exchanged for that of “Club;” and instead of the weekly meetings being held, as heretofore, in the house of a friend, who might be endangered by such assemblies, they were held in quiet taverns, where the members could have a room appropriated to themselves, and where, under the pretext of a small expenditure in tavern refreshments, they could safely recite their religious experience, and confer on plans of religious usefulness.

On the accession of William and Mary to the throne, in 1689, religious secrecy was no longer needed, and the societies now began to extend the sphere of their operations. At first their chief object, in their weekly meetings, was to afford to each other mutual assistance in their Christian life; but, now, they enacted a rule that every member should endeavour to add to the society at least one other member. This led to an amazing increase of their numbers, and the result was that similar societies were multiplied in all parts of London.^[123] This led some ill-affected persons to report to the bishop of the diocese that these societies were engendering religious pride, and would issue in a church schism. A vindication was sent to the bishop, stating that the only object the members had, was to quicken each other’s affections towards spiritual things, and to assist each other to live in all respects as Christians. The bishop was satisfied, and said, “God forbid that I should be against such excellent designs!”

The charge against the societies of intending to create a schism was most unfounded; for so far was it from their purpose to form a sect, that they carefully guarded against the possibility of this, by their strict attendance at the monthly sacrament, by the use of many of the church prayers in their private meetings, by their setting up public prayers in many of the city churches, and by their humble deference to their respective ministers, without whose approbation no rule, prayer, or practice was allowed among them.

It is also noteworthy that great care was exercised in admitting persons to membership among them. It was required that those who were desirous of joining the society should furnish a testimony of their sense of spiritual things, and of their sincere intention to live a religious life; and this testimony was often presented in writing.

At length, these associated societies of converted people took another step, and resolved to exert themselves to check the public and scandalous sins which were so rampant in the capital. At first, they scarcely knew how to act; but, just at the time when the resolution was adopted, four or five gentlemen of the Church of England, well acquainted with the law, formed a similar resolution, and determined to do all they could, by legal authority, to chastise and suppress the impudent vices and impieties so prevalent among their fellow-citizens. The first step taken was to make an abstract of all the penal laws against vice and profanity, and to draw up prudential rules for the legal conviction of offenders. The next was to obtain, through Tillotson, in 1691, a letter from Queen Mary, requiring magistrates to act in such matters, and to enforce the laws. The Lord Mayor, the aldermen, and other magistrates of London consented; and now copies of the abstract of penal laws, of the prudential rules that had been drawn up, of the queen’s letter, and of the magistrates’ answer, were sent all over the kingdom; and blank warrants were deposited in divers places of the capital for the convenience of informers.

The Athenian Oracle, (vol. iii., p. 30,) tells us that the good and great men of the age prosecuted the affair with unheard-of vigour; and many persons of quality met together to concert measures to help forward this crusade against the profanities of the city. A petty sessions was held once a-week in Bloomsbury Court-house and Hick’s Hall for the conviction of offenders; and another was about to be set up in Westminster.^[124] Fit persons were appointed to districts all over the city and suburbs, to take informations and fill up warrants. The queen commanded military officers to put down wickedness and disorders among soldiers. To lessen and prevent debauchery, the time for holding Bartholomew Fair was to be diminished, &c.

All this created great excitement. A lawyer, in a coffee-house, publicly declared that the whole thing was a trick of the magistrates for the purpose of getting fees, and that he would give them £2000 for their emoluments during a single year. This, says the Athenian Oracle, was a scandalous untruth, for already one hundred and forty warrants had been granted for which not one farthing had been charged for fees; and things were being so well managed, that, though it was likely that ten thousand warrants would be granted during the next twelve months, it would not be in the power of the officers levying the penalties to make the least profit by their legal prosecutions.

This royal, and almost national movement, could not have been more opportune. The religious societies had resolved to make an attempt to suppress and to punish vice, but scarce knew how to act; just at this juncture the steps were taken above recited, and now the way was open. Accordingly, the societies met together and prepared for action, by adopting the five following rules, which, in the prosecution of their work, were to be religiously observed:—

1. Christian poverty of spirit, to be cultivated by a deep sense of their own impurity and imperfection.

2. A disinterested mind, wholly renouncing all carnal ends.

3. Habitual prayer to God, with a courageous and unwearied pursuit of such things as are agreeable to His will, and subservient to His glory.

4. Unfeigned charity towards all men, especially to their souls.

5. Quiet resignation to the Providence of God in all events.

The societies now began their work, having really become the Society for the Reformation of Manners. One section of the members were appointed to act in London, and another section to act in Westminster. Prompt information was given to the magistrates of all the debaucheries and profanities they witnessed; and not a few were the reproaches and threats they met with from evil-doers.

Very soon these converted people, belonging to the religious societies, were joined by an association of housekeepers in the Tower Hamlets, who, for their own protection, had banded themselves together to put an end to the thieving and lewdness that abounded in that neighbourhood.^[125] The results were—several Sunday markets were abolished; some hundreds of brothels were shut up; music halls, which had degenerated into nurseries of licentiousness, were closed; multitudes of swearers, Sabbath-breakers, and drunkards, were legally convicted; and above two thousand prostitutes, night-walkers, and keepers of houses of ill-fame, were sentenced by the magistrates as the law directed; many of them being punished by fines, others by imprisonment, others by a suppression of their licences, and not a few by being publicly whipped at the cart’s tail.

These were bold steps to take, but they were not unneeded. Daniel Defoe, writing at that period, has drawn a terrific picture of the age. The following are lines taken at random from his poems. There are others far too vivid to be reprinted:—

Woodward tells us that, in the music halls, it was not unusual for persons of both sexes to dance together in shameless nakedness; and that, within a brief period, there had been above twenty murders committed in these licentious concert rooms.

Samuel Wesley’s description of the morals of the city and of the nation is appalling. In the sermon which he preached before the Society for the Reformation of Manners, in 1698, he writes:—“Our infamous theatres seem to have done more mischief to the faith and morals of the nation than Hobbes himself. With as much reason may we exclaim against our plays and interludes as did the old zealous fathers against the pagan spectacles, and as justly rank these, as they did the others, among those pomps and vanities which our baptism obliges us to renounce and to abhor. What communion hath the temple of God with idols?—with those abominable mysteries of iniquity, which outdo the old Fescenina of the heathen, the lewd orgies of Bacchus, and the impious feasts of Isis and Priapus? I know not how any person can profitably, or indeed decently, present themselves here before God’s holy oracle, who frequent those schools of vice, and mysteries of profaneness and lewdness, to unlearn there what they are taught here out of God’s Holy Word. It is true the stage pretends to reform manners; but let them tell us how many converts to virtue and religion they have made during the last thirty or forty years. We can give numerous and sad instances to the contrary. A brave and virtuous nation has been too generally depraved and corrupted, and nothing has more highly conduced to this than these insufferable and abominable representations at theatres. If oaths; if blasphemy; if perpetual profanation of the glorious name of God and of our blessed Redeemer; if making a scoff and a laugh of His Holy Word and institutions; if filthiness and foolish talking, and profane or immodest jesting; if representing, excusing, and recommending the vices of mankind; if teaching the people to think virtue ridiculous, and religion fit for none but old people, fools, and lunatics; if contempt of superiors; if false notions of honour; if lewdness, and pride, and revenge, and even murder;—if these are the lessons which are daily taught in the public play-houses, to the disgrace of our age, corruption of our morals, and scandal of our nation, then we may fairly ask, Are these fit places for the education of our youth, and the diversion of those of riper years? or, indeed, are they fit places to be tolerated under a Christian government?”^[126]

Mr Wesley continues:—“Alas! what reason has every one, who has any real concern for God and for his country, to cry out with the father of old, ‘To what dregs of time are we reserved!’ Men may almost print or speak what blasphemies they please with impunity, and even with triumph. Too many of the subordinate magistrates will not act, nor the people generally assist them in the punishment of evil-doers. It is reckoned a part of good breeding, or at least an argument of wit and spirit, to ridicule all that is sacred, and to profane the glorious and fearful name of God; and it is regarded as the rudest and the most clownish thing in the world to reprove, to detect, and punish such offenders, though by the most legal, prudent, and advisable methods.”

The Society for the Reformation of Manners was of great service, but it was not perfect. Defoe, in his “Poor Man’s Plea,” alleges that the laws against vicious practices were cobweb laws, which caught small flies, but which the great ones broke through. The Lord Mayor whipt about the poor beggars and a few bad women, and sent them to the House of Correction; and some alehouse-keepers and vintners were fined for drawing drink on Sundays; but the man, with a gold ring and gay clothes, might reel through the open streets, and no one noticed it. The lewdness, profaneness, and immorality of the gentry, which was the main cause of the general debauchery of the kingdom, were not at all touched by the laws as now executed.

These are distressing pictures; and it is not surprising that the converted people, joined together in the religious societies instituted about 1677, should set themselves the task of suppressing such impieties, and thus give birth, about the year 1691, to the Society for the Reformation of Manners. To some extent, the two Societies were one, and yet they were distinct and separate. The religious societies were instituted principally to promote religion among themselves; the Reformation Society to suppress public vice in others. The religious societies were altogether composed of members of the Church of England; the Reformation Society was composed of members of the Church of England, and of other churches as well.^[127]

After the Society for the Reformation of Manners had existed about forty years, most of its original members were dead, and it became defunct, and, from about 1730 to 1757, no such society existed. At that time, and perhaps as the result of the Methodist societies being instituted in 1739, the old Society for Reformation of Manners was revived. The approbation of the Lord Mayor of London and of the Court of Aldermen was obtained; and thousands of books of instruction were printed, and were sent to constables and parish officers to remind them of their duty. In the beginning of 1758, the laws against immorality were again enforced, and the streets and fields swept of their notorious offenders. In five years, about ten thousand persons were brought to justice, principally for gambling, swearing, Sabbath-breaking, lewdness, and selling obscene prints.^[128] Who will deny that John Wesley had much to do with the revival of this society, as his father, Samuel Wesley, had to do with its early institution.^[129] The society, at the first, arose out of the religious societies then existing; and we are strongly of opinion that the revival of the society, after it had become defunct, arose out of the Methodist societies of 1739, and which bore an almost exact resemblance to the religious societies of 1677. At all events, we find John Wesley thoroughly identifying himself with the revived Reformation Society of 1757. In 1763, he preached before the Society in West Street Chapel, Seven Dials, taking, as already stated, the very text that his father took sixty-five years before.^[130] In 1764, he proposed to the London Leaders Meeting that they should have a congregational collection to assist to liquidate the heavy debt of the Society for the Reformation of Manners, though, at the very time, his own society debt in London was about £900.^[131] And, in 1766, he dined with W. Welsh, the father of the revived Society, and most feelingly laments that it has a second time ceased to exist. The immediate cause of this, was an action instituted against the society, in the King’s Bench, which issued in a verdict with £300 damages. This verdict was obtained by the false swearing of a wretch whom the society afterwards convicted of wilful perjury. Still the death-blow to the Society was struck, and John Wesley writes: “They could never recover the expense of that suit. Lord, how long shall the ungodly triumph?”^[132]

Such, then, was the origin, the object, and the history of the society before which Samuel Wesley preached, in St James’s Church, Westminster, in 1698. He was still a young man, and the circumstance of him being selected to preach, shows the high estimation in which he was already held. The sermon is long, able, and earnest. “Daring and open wickedness,” he writes, “is high treason against the Majesty of heaven; and are not all His liege subjects under the deepest obligations to oppose it? Who has courage, and constancy, and bravery, equal to so glorious an undertaking? Blessed be God! we have now the encouragement of superiors. The sword of justice no longer lies rusting and idle, but is drawn and furbished for the battle, and glitters against the enemies of God and of our country. Shall a wretched mortal, a worm of the same dust with ourselves, presume to affront my Father, my Patron, my Friend, my Benefactor, my Saviour, and shall I want courage, or honesty to oppose him, to detect him, and to bring him to that shame and punishment he so highly merits? Whom are we afraid of, that we forget the Lord our Maker? Let all the potsherds of the earth fall down together, and humble themselves before the King, the Lord of hosts, and let Him alone be exalted, whose glory is above the heavens, and who shakes the earth at His displeasure. Let us often read the lives of martyrs. Here were Christians indeed,—who trampled the world, subdued the flesh, and conquered the devil, following the great Captain of their salvation, as He himself led the way, with crimson banners, and garments rolled in blood; and shall we pretend to follow them, as they did Him, and yet be afraid of a few hard words or frowns from mistaken or evil men? Oh pity! pity! poor sinners, and pray to God to pity them, who want the sense and grace to pity themselves; but show your pity to them, not by a cruel fondness, but by a kind and wholesome severity. Why should we suffer them to tumble over a fatal precipice, for fear of disturbing or disobliging them, by pulling them back with some haste and violence? Go on, then, in the name of God. Remember the eyes of God, men, and angels, are upon you. Be sober, be vigilant. Forbid none from casting out devils, because he follows not with you. Be careful and humble, and all earth and hell can never hurt you. Be willing, be thankful to be accounted the filth and offscouring of the world; the disturbers of the public peace, by those who themselves notoriously break it. Think much of heaven—forget not death. Be constant at sacraments, and in prayer, public, domestic, and private. Neglect not to sing the high praises of God. Remember the poor, especially God’s poor. Pity the afflicted, especially our dear brethren who now ‘suffer for the Word of God and the testimony of Jesus.’ Oh the peace, the joy, the triumph, the exultation of mind which a good man possesses, when he reflects on any sufferings he undergoes for the cause of God, and for the cause of despised religion and virtue! He bids the world do its worst, for he has a reserve beyond it,—and knows who will receive him into everlasting habitations, and say unto him ‘Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord!’”

We have thus attempted to give an outline of the history of the Society for the Reformation of Manners; and extracts from Samuel Wesley’s sermon, preached before it in 1698; but, before the chapter closes, a few words must be added in reference to the religious societies out of which the other society arose.

The religious societies, begun in 1677, continued to exist until after John Wesley had instituted his Methodist societies. Wesley’s first society was formed at Oxford in 1729, and consisted of himself, his brother Charles, Mr Morgan, and Mr Kirkham, who spent some evenings every week, in unitedly reading the Greek Testament.^[133] The second was formed at Savannah in 1736, where he met a select few in his own house after evening prayers, and read and conversed with them, and concluded the meetings with a psalm.^[134] On his return to England, we find him attending the meetings of the old religious societies which were still existing. On Sunday, April 26, 1738, he “went to a society in Oxford, where, as his manner then was at all societies, after using a collect or two and the Lord’s prayer, he expounded a chapter in the New Testament, and concluded with three or four more collects and a psalm.”^[135] In September of the same year, we find him attending and taking part in society meetings in Bear Yard, in Aldersgate Street, and in Gutter Lane, London.^[136] On the 15th of November following, he expounded at three societies in Bristol.^[137] In April 1739, in Bristol, he began “expounding our Lord’s Sermon on the Mount to a little society, which was accustomed to meet once or twice a week in Nicholas Street;”^[138] and later on, in the same month, and in the same city, while “at a little society in the Back Lane, the floor of the room gave way, and fell down with a great noise.”^[139] In June 1739, he “went to a society at Wapping, where many began to call upon God with strong cries and tears.”^[140] On September 9th, he “went to a society at Fetter Lane, and exhorted them to love one another;”^[141] and two or three weeks afterwards “went as usual to the society at St James’s;” and also to a society at Deptford.^[142] In April, 1740, we find him at “a little society at Islington, which had stood untainted from the beginning;”^[143] and in the month of May following, he met with the “members of a religious society at Newcastle-on-Tyne, which had subsisted for many years, had a fine library, and to whom their steward read a sermon every Sunday.”^[144]

All this affords ample proof that the old religious societies, begun in 1677, still existed; and there cannot be a doubt that it was a knowledge of their usefulness that led John Wesley to institute his united societies in 1739. He tells us that, about that time, persons who had been awakened to a sense of their sin and danger, by the preaching of himself and his brother Charles, came to them for religious counsel and consolation. He writes:—“We advised them: ‘Strengthen you one another—talk together as often as you can, and pray earnestly with and for one another, that you may endure to the end, and be saved.’ They replied, ‘But we want you likewise to talk with us.’ So I told them, ‘If you will all of you come together every Thursday evening, I will gladly spend some time with you in prayer, and give you the best advice I can.’ Thus,” he adds, “arose what was afterwards called a society; a very innocent name, and very common in London, for any number of people associating themselves together. They united themselves in order to pray together, to receive the word of exhortation, and to watch over one another in love, that they might help each other to work out their salvation.”^[145] A few days after this society was formed, some of the members expressed a determination to make a quarterly subscription to assist Wesley to pay for the lease of the Foundry, and a steward was appointed to receive the money;^[146] and very soon after that, the society was divided into smaller companies called “classes,” consisting of about twelve persons each, and one of whom was styled “the leader.”^[147]

Such is John Wesley’s own account of the rise of his “United Societies.” In all this, we see an exact repetition of what was done by Beveridge, Horneck, and Smithies sixty-two years before. The religious societies instituted by them were the pioneers of the Methodist societies, and prepared their way. Their origin and number indicate the existence of a large amount of experimental and earnest piety, even in the midst of abounding wickedness. They were immensely useful, and were the means of conferring great benefits both upon the members themselves and upon others. They were instrumental in beginning and establishing about one hundred schools in London and its suburbs, in which thousands of poor children were taught gratuitously, and were carefully educated in good manners. Their rules required, that every member should be a member of the Church of England; that the members should meet together once a week to encourage each other in practical holiness; that all controversial and political discussions should be avoided at their meetings; that every member should give a weekly contribution towards the public stock for pious and charitable uses; that every one absenting himself from four meetings in succession, without just cause, should be looked upon as disaffected to the society; that none should be admitted as new members without due notice, and without inquiry concerning their religious purposes and manner of life; and that all the members should pray many times every day, receive the Lord’s Supper at least once a month, keep a monthly fast, and pray for the whole society in their private devotions.

We have seen John Wesley’s connexion with these societies. What about his father? Was he acquainted with them, and did he give them his approbation and sympathy? Happily these are questions which can be answered. “A Letter concerning the Religious Societies,” was published by Samuel Wesley in 1699. After giving a description of the societies, Mr Wesley proceeds to argue that, so far from being any injury to the Church of England, they would greatly promote its interests. He expresses a wish that such societies might be formed in all considerable towns, and even in populous villages. He writes—“There are a great many parishes in this kingdom which consist of several thousands of souls. Now what one man, or two, or three, is sufficient for such a multitude? Those who have but one or two thousand will find their cares heavy enough, especially now they have neither the catechists of the ancients to assist them, nor those clerks which are mentioned in the rubric.” He then goes on to state, that, in such cases, the religious societies would be of immense service. Acting under the authority and direction of the clergy, “they would be as so many churchwardens, or overseers, or almost deacons under them; caring for the sick and poor, giving an account of the spiritual estate of themselves and others, persuading parents to catechise their children and to fit them for confirmation, and discoursing with those who have left the church to bring them back to it. This assistance would conduce as much to the health of the minister’s body, by easing him of many a weary step and fruitless journey, as it would conduce to the satisfaction of his mind, in the visible success of his labours. Such societies, so far from injuring the Church, would be so many new bulwarks against its enemies, and would give it daily more strength, and beauty, and reputation.”

He then proceeds to show that the institution of such societies was not a novelty; that the Church of Rome was indebted for most of the progress that it had made in recent times to the several societies it had nourished in its bosom; and that the Marquis de Renty in France had formed, as early as 1640, many societies of devout persons, who, in their weekly meetings, consulted about the relief of the poor, engaged in united prayer, sang psalms, read books of devotion, and discoursed together of their own spiritual concerns.

Wesley then argues that such societies are really necessary, on the ground, that, without them, the members of the Church have no opportunity for that “delightful employment of all good Christians,” pious conversation. He concludes thus:—“The design of these societies is not to gather churches out of churches, to foment new schisms and divisions, and to make heathens of all the rest of their Christian brethren; but to promote, in a regular manner, that which is the end of every Christian, the glory of God, included in the welfare and salvation of themselves and their neighbours. It cannot be denied that there may and will be some persons in these societies of more heat than light, of more zeal than judgment; but where was ever any body of men without some such characters? But since the very rules of their institution do strictly oblige them to the practice of humility and charity, and to avoid censoriousness and spiritual pride, the common rocks of those who make a more than ordinary profession of religion, I see not what human prudence can provide any farther in this matter.”

These extracts are important, inasmuch as they afford ample evidence that Samuel Wesley (the High Churchman, as Mr Watson and others erroneously call him) was as much in favour of Christian fellowship, such as Methodists now hold in classes, as was the founder of the Methodists himself; and they also further prove that, when John Wesley employed lay agents to assist himself and his brother, and to promote the glory of God in the salvation of men, he did nothing more than what had been earnestly advocated and recommended by his father nearly half a century before. In employing lay-agents, John Wesley was a-head of his age; but he only did what his father had urged to be done in 1699, and what the Church of England itself, at this present moment, is wishing to have accomplished—viz., the employment of a Sub-Diaconate to co-operate with the regular ministry.