The reader will observe here a strange confession, which has seldom, if ever, been noticed. The letter, from which the above is taken, was written October 23, 1738, five months after Wesley’s conversion; and yet he here distinctly states that, as yet, he was not possessed of the witness of the Spirit; but was waiting for it. This is contrary to the commonly received notion, and yet it is in perfect accordance with a remarkable entry in his journal, under the date of October 14. He there most carefully examines his religious state by comparing it with the text, “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” In many respects, he judged himself a new creature; but, in others, he feared that he was not. Earthly desires often arose within him, though he was enabled to put them under his feet through Christ strengthening him. To some extent, he possessed longsuffering, gentleness, meekness, and temperance; but he had to complain of his want of love, peace, and joy. He writes:—

There is another entry, similar to this, under the date of December 16; and again, on January 4, 1739, he uses even stronger language:—

This is extremely puzzling; but we are bound to give it as we find it. It may be said that Wesley merely says, that “one who had had the form of godliness many years wrote these reflections;” but, comparing them with the two entries under the dates of October 14 and December 16, 1738, and with his letter to his brother Samuel, dated October 30, it would be folly to contend that he was not relating his own experience. The reader must form his own opinion, and grapple with the difficulties, thus presented, as he best can. Wesley acknowledges, in the above extract, that, some months before, he “received such a sense of the forgiveness of his sins as till then he never knew;” and yet here we find him full of doubt, and writing the bitterest things against himself.

Let us pursue his correspondence with his brother Samuel a little farther. Wesley held the doctrine of the Spirit’s witness; though he asserts he did not yet experience it. Samuel, in a letter dated November 15, 1738, asks his brother “whether he will own or disown, in terms, the necessity of a sensible information from God of pardon?”[251] This was not a fair putting of the question. Wesley had defined the πληροφορια πιστεως, or witness of the Spirit, as “the love of God shed abroad in the heart, producing joy which no man taketh away; joy unspeakable and full of glory:” but his brother here changes the term witness, and what it meant, to the term “sensible information,” that is, information received through the senses, thus connecting with the witness visions and voices, and other Moravian follies at that time rampant.

A fortnight later Wesley replied to this:—

In answer, Samuel, on December 13, declares that his brother misinterprets the witness of the Spirit, and refers him to a sermon of Bishop Bull’s in proof. John replies, that Bishop Bull’s sermon is full of gross perversions of Scripture; and adds: “I find more persons, day by day, who experience a clear evidence of their being in a state of salvation; but I never said this continues equally clear in all, as long as they continue in a state of salvation.”[253]

Samuel’s answer is dated Tiverton, March 26, 1739, in which he argues that the witness of the Spirit is not necessary to salvation; and refers, in proof of this, to the case of baptized infants, and to persons of a gloomy constitution.[254]

Nine days afterwards, Wesley re-asserted that he had seen many persons changed in a moment from the spirit of horror, fear, and despair, to the spirit of hope, joy, and peace; and from sinful desires, till then reigning over them, to a pure desire of doing the will of God. He also knew that this great change, in several persons, had been wrought either in sleep, or during a strong representation, to the eye of their minds, of Christ, either on the cross, or in glory. He also argues, that his brother’s reference to infants and persons of a gloomy constitution fails to sustain his point; because no kind of assurance is essential to the salvation of infants; and persons of a gloomy constitution, so far from being doomed to die without the assurance, have, to his own certain knowledge, even when almost mad, been brought in a moment into a state of firm, lasting peace and joy.[255]

Other letters might be quoted; but enough has been said to show the views which Wesley now held concerning the witness of the Spirit. He believed the witness was necessary to his own salvation; and, yet, he declares he has it not. He asserts that he has known instances in which it has been granted in dreams; but he does not insist that dreams are an essential medium. The whole affair is puzzling. On May 24, 1738, he “received such a sense of the forgiveness of sins as till then he never knew;” and yet, months afterwards, he declares, in the most explicit terms, that he was now living without the enjoyment of the Spirit’s witness. How is this discrepancy to be explained? Had he lost the sense of forgiveness which he received on May 24? Or was he attaching to the witness of the Spirit a signification too high? If he had not the witness at the beginning of 1739, when did he obtain it afterwards? All these questions will naturally occur to the thoughtful reader; but they are more easily asked than answered.

The simple truth seems to be, that while Wesley heard much among the Moravians that was scriptural, he also heard much that was otherwise; and paid more attention to their experiences, both in England and in Germany, than was desirable, or for his good. His high opinion of the people’s piety made it easy to believe even many of their foolish statements. He got into a labyrinth, and could hardly tell where he was. Months before, he had believed on Christ to the saving of his soul; and yet now he bitterly exclaims that he is not a Christian. He was, for a season, bewildered with the brightness of great truths bursting for the first time on his vision, and with the distracting glare of religious testimonies—new, but yet earnest and sincere—of great importance, and yet mixed with much that was fanatical and foolish. Out of such a maze this earnest man had to find his way as he best could. We know his subsequent career, and we know the doctrines that he taught. The mists of early education, and the vapours of Moravian imagination, were soon scattered by the bright sunshine which was shed upon him; and in the midst of which, to the end of his career, he was wont to live, and to testify, “The testimony of the Spirit is an inward impression on the soul, whereby the Spirit of God directly witnesses to my spirit that I am a child of God; that Jesus Christ hath loved me, and given Himself for me; and that all my sins are blotted out, and I, even I, am reconciled to God.”[256]

Wesley had been brought into strange communion with Moravians in his voyage to Georgia. At Savannah he had met with Spangenberg. On his return to London he found Bohler, and was induced to become a member of the first Moravian society, founded at Fetter Lane. The rules of that society are before us, entitled, “Orders of a Religious Society meeting in Fetter Lane; in obedience to the command of God by St. James, and by the advice of Peter Boehler, May 1, 1738.” These rules provide for a meeting of the members once a week, to confess their faults one to another, and to pray for one another that they may be healed. A month later, it was agreed that the persons thus meeting in society should be divided into bands, of not fewer than five or more than ten; and that some one in each band should be desired to interrogate the rest, and should be called the leader. Each band was to meet twice a week; every person was to come punctually at the hour appointed; every meeting was to begin and end with singing and prayer; and all the bands were to have a conference every Wednesday night. Any person absenting himself from his band-meeting, without some extraordinary reason, was to be first privately admonished, and if he were absent a second time, to be reproved before the whole society. Any member, desiring or designing to take a journey, was first to have, if possible, the approbation of the bands; and all who were in clubs were requested to withdraw their names from such associations. Any one desiring to be admitted was to be asked his reasons for this, and whether he would be entirely open, using no kind of reserve, least of all in the case of love or courtship. Every fourth Saturday was to be observed as a day of general intercession, from twelve to two, from three to five, and from six to eight o’clock; and, on one Sunday in every month, a general lovefeast was to be held from seven till ten at night. In order to a continual intercession, every member was to choose some hour, either of the day or night, to spend in prayer, chiefly for his brethren; and, in order to a continual fast, three of the members were to fast every day, Sundays and holidays excepted, and spend as much of the day as possible in retirement from business and in prayer. Each person was to pay to the leader of his band, at least once a month, what he could afford towards the general expenses; and any person not conforming to the rules of the society, after being thrice admonished, was to be expelled.

Naturally enough, Wesley wished to know something more of the singular people with whom he had been brought in contact; and accordingly, three weeks after his conversion, he started for their chief settlement at Herrnhuth, in Germany. One of his companions was his friend Ingham, and another was John Toltschig,[257] one of the first fugitives who fled to Herrnhuth from the fierce persecution in Moravia in 1724.

At Rotterdam, Dr. Koker, a physician, treated them with kindness; but at Gondart several of the inns refused to entertain them, and it “was with difficulty they at last found one which did them the favour to take their money for their meat and drink, and the use of two or three bad beds.”

On June 16, they arrived at Ysselstein, the home of Baron Watteville, who had been a fellow student of Count Zinzendorf, and one of the young gentlemen, at the academy in Halle, who about the year 1717 had formed an association called “The Order of the Grain of Mustard Seed,” the object of which was to promote the conversion of Jews and heathen.

At the time of Wesley’s visit Watteville was at the head of “a few German brethren and sisters, and about eight” English Moravians, who were living in three or four small houses, till one should be built large enough to contain them all. Wesley and his friends spent a day with them “in hearing the wonderful work which God was beginning to work over all the earth,” and in making prayer to Him, “and giving thanks for the mightiness of His kingdom.”

Proceeding to Amsterdam, Wesley and his companions were received with great courtesy by Mr. Decknatel, a minister of the Mennonists, and Dr. Barkhausen, a Muscovite physician. Here they spent four days, and attended several society meetings, where “the expounding was in high Dutch.”

On Sunday, June 26, they reached Cologne, “the ugliest, dirtiest city” Wesley had ever seen. The cathedral he describes as “mere heaps upon heaps; a huge, misshapen thing, without either symmetry or neatness belonging to it.” Some will doubtless differ from Wesley’s judgment concerning this magnificent though unfinished pile, so venerated for its sanctity, derived from the monkish stories of the reliques of the eleven thousand virgins and of the three eastern kings. Coming out of it, one of Wesley’s companions scrupled to take off his hat as a popish procession passed, when a papist cried, “Knock down the Lutheran dog,” a mandate which would probably have been put into execution if the offender had not made a timely escape from the zealot’s fury.

Embarking on the majestic Rhine, four days and nights were spent in reaching Mayence, the boat in which Wesley travelled being drawn by horses. This, however, gave him ample time to admire the almost unequalled beauties of one of the finest rivers in the world. Arriving faint and weary at Frankfort, they were refused admittance, because they had no passports. It so happened, however, that Peter Bohler’s father was resident in the city; and, by his interposition, they procured an entrance, and were treated in the most friendly manner.

On Tuesday, July 4, they came to Marienborn, (about thirty-five miles from Frankfort,) in the neighbourhood of which Zinzendorf, two years before, had taken up his residence in an old, ruinous castle called Ronneburg, and where he had established schools for poor children, whom he fed and clothed at his own expense. Here also he had formed a missionary congregation, consisting of forty students from Jena, most of whom became ministers either in Europe or in missions to the heathen.[258] The Moravian family altogether consisted of about ninety persons, all living in a large house rented by Zinzendorf. Here Wesley spent a fortnight, conversing with the brethren in Latin or English, listening to the sermons of the count, and attending conferences and intercession meetings. Writing to his brother Samuel, he says: “God has given me at length the desire of my heart. I am with a church whose conversation is in heaven; in whom is the mind that was in Christ, and who so walks as He walked. As they have all one Lord and one faith, so they are all partakers of one Spirit—the spirit of meekness and love, which uniformly and continually animates all their conversation. I believe, in a week, Mr. Ingham and I shall set out for Herrnhuth, about three hundred and fifty miles hence. Oh pray for us, that God would sanctify to us all those precious opportunities.”[259] It is an odd fact, however, that while Ingham was allowed to partake of the holy communion, Wesley was not, because “the congregation saw him to be homo perturbatus, and that his head had gained an ascendancy over his heart”; and also because “they were desirous not to interfere with his plan of effecting good as a clergyman of the English Church.”[260] Peculiar reasons—but we give them as we find them. Hampson, in his life of Wesley, relates that Zinzendorf, who regarded him as a pupil, ordered him one day to dig in the garden; and after Wesley had been there for some time working in his shirt, and when he was in a high state of perspiration, the lordly count commanded him to enter a carriage that was waiting, to pay a visit to a neighbouring noble. Wesley naturally wished to wash his hands and to put on his coat; but his preceptor forbade him, saying, “You must be simple, my brother!” This was a full answer to all remonstrance, and Wesley was simple enough to obey the mandate of a man who, while professing great humility, sometimes allowed the pretensions of his feudal pride to set aside the meekness of his professed piety.

On the 19th of July, Wesley again set out, and on reaching Weimar was brought before the duke, who asked his object in journeying to Herrnhuth. Wesley answered, “To see the place where the Christians live;” upon which the duke looked hard, but permitted him to go. On arriving at Halle, “the King of Prussia’s tall men,” who kept the gates, sent him and his friends backwards and forwards, from one gate to another, for nearly two long hours before they were admitted. Here he inspected, with the greatest interest, the Orphan House of August Herman Francke, in which six hundred and fifty children were wholly resident, and three thousand taught. At Leipsig, the gentlemen of the university treated him with respect and kindness. At Meissen, two things surprised him—the extremely beautiful china ware; and the congregation in the church, where the women wore huge fur caps in the shape of Turkish turbans; the men sat with their hats on their heads at the prayers as well as at the sermon, and the parson was decorated with a habit bedecked with gold and scarlet, and with a vast cross on both his back and breast. At Dresden, Wesley was carried from one official to another, with impertinent solemnity, for above two hours, before he was suffered to settle at his inn; and greatly wondered that common sense and common humanity allowed such a senseless, inhuman usage of strangers.

Wesley arrived at the Moravian settlement at Herrnhuth on August 1, and found it consisting of about a hundred houses built on a rising ground. The principal erection was the orphan house, in the lower part of which was the apothecary’s shop, and in the upper the chapel, capable of containing six or seven hundred people. Here he spent nearly the next fortnight.

The day after his arrival, he attended a lovefeast of the married women; and on every day, at eleven, a Bible conference, at which was read a portion of Scripture in the original. He was also present at a conference for strangers, when several questions concerning justification were resolved. He embraced all opportunities of conversing with the most experienced of the brethren, concerning the great work which God had wrought within them; and with the teachers and elders concerning their church discipline.

On the Sunday, after the evening service, all the unmarried women, according to their usual custom, walked round the town, singing praise, with instruments of music; and then, on a small hill, at a little distance from it, knelt in a circle and joined in prayer; after which they joyously repaired to their respective homes.

Four times Wesley heard Christian David preach, and also received from his own lips his private history. The boyhood of this remarkable man was spent in tending sheep, and his youth and early manhood partly at the carpenter’s bench, and partly in the soldier’s tent. He was a zealous papist, and crawled on his knees before images, performed penances, invoked departed saints, and went the whole round of Romish vagaries. He was twenty years old before he had even seen a Bible; after this, it became nearly the only book he read. The Bible convinced him of the errors of Popery, and he resolved to join the Lutherans. At the age of twenty-seven, he began to preach to his countrymen; numbers were converted by his artless sermons; persecution followed; the converts fled; and Herrnhuth was founded. Christian David continued preaching in Moravia, until his preaching became the topic of conversation in houses, streets, roads, and markets, and the whole country was thrown into a state of great excitement. The people assembled at each other’s houses to sing hymns and to read the Bible. Shepherds chanted the praises of their Redeemer as they kept their flocks; servants at their work talked of nothing but His great salvation; and children on village greens poured out their fervent prayers before Him. Many were imprisoned; others were thrust into cellars and made to stand in water till they were well-nigh frozen; not a few were loaded with irons and obliged to work as convicts; and a whole host were condemned to pay heavy fines. All this arose out of the preaching of the unlettered preacher whom Wesley heard at Herrnhuth,—the Bush Preacher, as he was called by the persecuting priests and jesuits of Moravia,—the man who, five years previous to Wesley’s present visit, conducted the first missionaries to Greenland, and who, though but a poor mechanic, preached to the court of the king of Denmark as he went,—an itinerant evangelist of no mean order, having paid eleven gospel visits to Moravia, three to Greenland, and many others to Denmark, England, and Holland, besides visiting all the Moravian congregations throughout the whole of Germany,—a man who, when he happened to be at home at Herrnhuth, and not engaged in active services for the church, always followed his trade as a carpenter, and secured the respect and love of both young and old,—a man who often made mistakes, but was always ready to confess his errors when pointed out to him,—deeply devoted to the work of Christ, and living in the closest communion with Him,—shunning no toil, and fearing no danger,—reading the Bible continually, and never tiring of its precious truths,—his sermons wanting in polish, but not in power,—for more than thirty years an itinerant, out-door German preacher,—and who in 1751, at the age of sixty, went triumphantly to heaven.[261]

Such was the preaching mechanic whom Wesley, the scholar and the priest, embraced every opportunity of hearing during his Herrnhuth visit,—a fair specimen of scores in England whom Wesley, during the next half-century, employed in the same glorious work. The philosopher may sneer at the sight of one of the most distinguished fellows of Lincoln College sitting in the Herrnhuth chapel and in the carpenter’s cottage, to be taught by a man like this; but let it be remembered that while the Oxford student, in letters, was immeasurably superior to the German mechanic, the German mechanic was as much superior to the Oxford student in the science of saving truth; and besides that, he spoke not only from clear convictions, but from personal experience. Even now many a man, profoundly learned in languages and in philosophy, might receive knowledge more important than any he already has, if he would condescend to imitate Wesley’s example, and stoop to be taught by some poor itinerating preacher, who, though a wayfaring man, and in all other things a fool, is yet “wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.”

The four sermons which Wesley heard Christian David preach were peculiarly appropriate to his present religious state. It is a notable fact, however, that instead of instructing Wesley to expect the witness of the Spirit immediately, he taught him “that many are children of God and heirs of the promises, long before they are comforted by the abiding witness of the Spirit, melting their souls into all gentleness and meekness; and much more before they are pure in heart from all self-will and sin.” Christian David told Wesley, in private, that he had “the forgiveness of sins, and a measure of the peace of God, for many years before he had that witness of the Spirit which shut out all doubt and fear.” This is not Wesleyan doctrine; but it was the doctrine which Wesley was taught in Germany, and which helped to keep him in that doubting and fearing state in which we have already seen him.

Wesley elicited the religious experience of Michael Linner, the oldest member of the church, which was to the effect that Michael believed to the saving of his soul two years before he received the full assurance of faith; though he admitted that the more usual method is for the Holy Spirit “to give, in one and the same moment, the forgiveness of sins, and a full assurance of that forgiveness.” David Nitschmann, one of the four public teachers of the Herrnhuth community, told Wesley that, for years after he was delivered from the bondage of sin, he was troubled with doubts and fears. Martin Döber stated: “It is common for persons to receive justification through faith in the blood of Christ before they receive the full assurance of faith, which God many times withholds till He has tried whether they will work together with Him in the use of the first gift.” Augustine Neusser said he could not tell the hour or day when he first received the full assurance that his sins were pardoned; for it was not given at once, but grew within him by degrees. David Schneider’s experience was substantially the same; but it is right to add, that the experience of others was of a brighter kind, and confirmative of the scriptural doctrine that, when sins are forgiven, the Spirit, at the same moment, gives the assurance of it.

Wesley eagerly listened to the recital of these religious experiences at Herrnhuth, and became bewildered; and hence those puzzling declarations concerning his own religious state, even down to the beginning of 1739, which have been already given. The truth is, both Wesley and the Moravians seemed to confound the doctrine of the Spirit’s witness with the doctrine of sanctification. Because they were not, for a season, wholly sanctified, they declare that they had not the witness of the Spirit or the full assurance of faith. The following, for instance, is Arvid Gradin’s description of that witness or assurance: “Repose in the blood of Christ; a firm confidence in God, and persuasion of His favour; serene peace and steadfast tranquillity of mind, with a deliverance from every fleshly desire, and from every outward and inward sin.” This is a beautiful description of what the Methodists mean by entire sanctification; but Wesley, taught by the Herrnhuth Moravians, confounded it, for a time, with what he called “the witness of the Spirit,—full assurance of faith;” the result being the use of language, in reference to himself, quite sufficient to perplex the modern Methodist, who, without paying attention to these Moravian facts, contents himself with merely comparing the lucid language of Wesley’s sermons with the confused and confusing language of those parts of Wesley’s journal to which we are now adverting.

Wesley spent nearly a fortnight among the Herrnhuth Christians. He writes:—“I would gladly have spent my life here. Oh when shall this Christianity cover the earth, as the waters cover the sea?” The population was divided into about ninety bands, each of which met twice at least, but most of them three times, a week, to “confess their faults one to another, and to pray for one another that they might be healed.” The rulers of the church had a conference every week, purely concerning the state of souls; and another every day on the outward matters of the church. Once a week, there was a conference for strangers; at which any one might be present, and propose questions or doubts which he desired to have resolved. The children and young people were taught reading, writing, arithmetic, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, English, history, and geography. Every morning at eight, the community had singing, Scripture exposition, and commonly short prayer; and the same at eight in the evening, concluding each service with the kiss of peace. On Sundays, service began at six; at nine, they had public worship at Bertholdsdorf; at one, the members of the church were divided into fourteen classes, to each of which was addressed a separate exhortation; at four, there was service again at Bertholdsdorf; and at eight, the usual nightly service; after which the young men went round the town singing songs of praise; and thus the day was ended. On the first Saturday of every month, the Lord’s supper was administered: when, from ten till two, the eldest spoke with each communicant in private, concerning his or her spiritual experience; at two, they dined, and then washed one another’s feet; after which they sung and prayed; about ten at night, they received the communion in silence without any ceremony; and continued without speaking, till midnight, when they parted. The second Saturday was occupied as the solemn prayer-day for the children. The third was a day of general intercession and thanksgiving. And the fourth was the great monthly conference of all the superiors of the church. For the last eleven years, they had kept up a perpetual intercession, which had never ceased day or night, by different companies spending in succession an hour every day in prayer for themselves and for other churches. Marriage was highly reverenced, and no young people were allowed to be affianced without being placed for a time with married persons, who instructed them how to behave in their contemplated new relation. Casting lots was used both in public and private, to decide points of importance, when the reasons on each side appeared to be of equal weight. The time usually spent in sleep was from eleven at night till four in the morning; three hours a day were allowed for meals; leaving sixteen for work and sacred services.

Such was Herrnhuth in 1738, the cradle of the modern Moravian church,—the Jerusalem of the United Brethren. At present it has about a thousand inhabitants, is well built, well paved, and scrupulously clean; having in its centre a large square, in which stands the hall for worship, at the original consecration of which Zinzendorf offered the striking prayer, “May God prevent this house standing longer than it continues to be a dwelling place of love and peace to the praise of the Redeemer!” On one side of the square is what was once the residence of Zinzendorf, now the depôt of Moravian archives; on another, the house of the unmarried brethren; and on a third, the village inn, the property of the community. Connection with the brotherhood, except in special cases conceded by their church authorities, is a condition of residence in the town; and up to 1848, by the laws of Saxony, any one who forsook the faith could be compelled to sell whatever property he had within its boundaries. This is now altered, and the only compulsion that can be exercised is of a moral character. Still, even yet, with the exception of the government officials, and a few privileged individuals, the entire community are members of the Moravian church. Here sprang up that wondrous brotherhood, which, whilst other churches were surrendering the great doctrines of the cross, devoted its life and energies to their world-wide propagation, and, with a faith which to some seemed presumption, and a love which approached to the character of a reverential friendship, went among slumbering peoples and savage races, insisting on the necessity of personal faith in a personal Redeemer, and declaring that life in Christ is the highest life of man.[262]

Wesley left Herrnhuth on August 12, and reached London on Saturday, September 16. He at once resumed his work by preaching thrice the next day, and afterwards expounding in the Minories. On Monday, he rejoiced to meet with the Moravian society at Fetter Lane, which had increased from ten members to thirty-two; and, on Tuesday, he went to the condemned felons in Newgate, and preached to them a free salvation.

A month subsequent to his return, he wrote as follows to his Herrnhuth friends:—

There are three facts in the above quotation which deserve notice:—1. That Wesley was thoroughly identified with the London Moravians. 2. That there were other clergymen besides himself who were evangelical. 3. That he still retained his high church nonsense, and made a difference between Church of England “ministers,” and Anabaptist and Presbyterian “teachers.” This last was pitiable folly, perhaps not to be wondered at, and yet deserving to be despised.

About the same time, Wesley wrote to Zinzendorf at Marienborn, thanking him and his countess for their kindness, and then adding:—

The last sentence requires explanation. Notwithstanding his general admiration of the German Moravians, their sun was not without spots, for there were sundry things with which Wesley was not satisfied. What were they? Wesley himself shall answer. The following is an unfinished letter, written to the Moravians at Marienborn and Herrnhuth, a few days only after Wesley’s return from Germany, but which was never sent:—

These were weighty accusations, and will claim attention hereafter.

Within five weeks after Wesley had returned from Germany, he and his brother Charles waited upon Dr. Edmund Gibson, Bishop of London, to answer the complaints he had heard against them, to the effect that they preached an absolute assurance of salvation. Gibson was a man of great natural abilities, a laborious student, and also pious; but he was occasionally betrayed into intolerance, and sometimes evinced more zeal for the rights of the Church than discretion. So great was his ecclesiastical power, that Sir Robert Walpole was accustomed to be reproached with allowing him the authority of a pope: “And a very good pope he is,” replied the premier. The two Wesleys being introduced to him, he said, “If by assurance you mean an inward persuasion, whereby a man is conscious in himself, after examining his life by the law of God, and weighing his own sincerity, that he is in a state of salvation, and acceptable to God, I don’t see how any good Christian can be without such assurance.” The Wesleys meant more by “assurance” than this; but the doctrine, so far as it went, was one which they themselves preached. The next point discussed was the charge that they were Antinomians, because they preached justification by faith only. To this they replied, “Can any one preach otherwise, who agrees to our church and the Scriptures?” A third charge was that they had administered baptism to persons dissatisfied with the lay baptism which they had already received. Wesley answered, with more high church bigotry than scriptural enlightenment, that “if a person dissatisfied with lay baptism,” or, in other words, Dissenters’ baptism, “should desire episcopal, he should think it his duty to administer it.” Wesley next inquired of his lordship if “his reading in a religious society made it a conventicle;” and whether “religious societies are conventicles.” To the latter question the bishop answered, “I think not; but I determine nothing;” and he recommended them to read the acts and laws on the subject for themselves. They then requested that he would not, in future, receive an accusation against them, but at the mouth of two or three witnesses. He said, “No, by no means; and you may have free access to me at all times.” They thanked his lordship, and departed.[266]

This was the first muttering of the storm soon to burst upon them. William Warburton was not yet a bishop, but he was already a vigorous and well known writer, and rector of Brand Broughton, in Lincolnshire. This hot-headed parson was one of the first to fall foul upon the poor Methodists. Writing to Des Maizeaux, in 1738, he says:—

In another letter, written in the same year to Dr. Birch, he says:—

Such are specimens of the foul falsehoods which malignant men already circulated concerning Wesley and his companions. But, besides this, the Methodist movement began to be noticed by the pulpit. The Rev. Tipping Silvester, M.A., Fellow of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Lecturer of St. Bartholomew the Great, London, preached a sermon on regeneration before the university of Oxford, at St. Mary’s, on February 26, which, without mentioning the names of the Methodist leaders, was evidently meant to be an antidote to one of their distinguished doctrines. The sermon was published, 8vo, twenty-eight pages, and on the title page was “recommended to the religious societies.” The chief point in the sermon is that infants are born again in baptism.

Another sermon, on “The Doctrine of Assurance,” was delivered on August 13, in the church of St. Lawrence Jewry, by the Rev. Arthur Bedford, M.A., chaplain to his royal highness Frederick Prince of Wales. This also, with an appendix, was published, 8vo, thirty-nine pages, and had an extensive circulation. It was avowedly intended to refute the doctrine of “those who had of late asserted that they who are not assured of their salvation, by a revelation from the Holy Ghost, are in a state of damnation.” The preacher argues that this assurance “is given to very few, and perhaps only to such whom God calls either to extraordinary services, or to extraordinary sufferings.” He further argues that to profess to have received such an assurance savours of spiritual pride, and cannot but produce bad results.

These were the first sermons published against the doctrines of Methodism, and both of them were extremely temperate when compared with others following.

At the end of the year 1738, Wesley drew up a set of rules for the regulation of the Moravian band societies, some of which were certainly more inquisitive than wise. Eleven questions, to be proposed to candidates for admission, were, upon the whole, unexceptionable; but five others, to be asked of every member at every weekly meeting, savour far too much of the popish confessional to be admired. We give them as an indication of the still unhealthy tone of Wesley’s piety:—

“1. What known sins have you committed since our last meeting?

“2. What temptations have you met with?

“3. How were you delivered?

“4. What have you thought, said, or done, of which you doubt whether it be sin or not?

“5. Have you nothing you desire to keep secret?”[268]

No doubt, such questions were put with the best intentions; but the thing looked like a prurient prying into secrets which properly belong alone to a man and his Maker.

The whole of Wesley’s publications, during 1738, have been already noticed, except “A Collection of Psalms and Hymns,” eighty-four pages, 12mo. This small volume was published without the name of either printer or author; but it contains ample internal evidence of its origin. Its publication was contemplated immediately after Wesley’s return from Georgia; and hence the following extract from a letter written by Dr. Byrom to Charles Wesley, on the 3rd of March, 1738.