“Upon reflection, I saw how exactly, in this also, we had copied after the primitive church. What were the ancient deacons? What was Phœbe, the deaconess, but such a visitor of the sick?”

Four rules were to be observed:—

“1. Be plain and open in dealing with souls. 2. Be mild, tender, patient. 3. Be cleanly in all you do for the sick. 4. Be not nice.”

Wesley adds, five years afterwards:—

“We have ever since had great reason to praise God for His continued blessing on this undertaking. Many lives have been saved, many sicknesses healed, much pain and want prevented or removed. Many heavy hearts have been made glad, many mourners comforted; and the visitors have found, from Him whom they serve, a present reward for all their labour.”[512]

The two thousand members of the London society contributed about £400 a year, or, at the rate of a shilling per member per quarter. The Bristol society consisted of seven hundred members, and, after the same ratio, would contribute £140 per year. Eight hundred members at Newcastle would raise £160; and the societies at Kingswood and other places might give £100 additional: thus making the Methodist income, for 1743, something like £800. Out of this, all chapel expenses had to be defrayed; a large proportion was given to the afflicted poor; something was necessary for the contingent expenses of Wesley’s helpers; and the remainder,—how much was it?—was perhaps given to the two Wesleys to meet some of their own necessary wants. These were the men preying upon the pockets of the poor, and making themselves a fortune out of other people’s money! Such falsehoods were current, and were not entirely disbelieved even by some of Wesley’s own relatives.

Poor Emily Wesley, a classical scholar, and no mean poet,—after teaching in a boarding school where she was ill used and worse paid, and after marrying a poor Quaker, who did little for her, and soon left her—was now a penniless and dependent widow, maintained entirely by her two brothers, and living at the Foundery. Emily, in a petulant humour, wrote to her brother John, accusing him of the want of kindness and of natural affection, notwithstanding his reputed riches. John, in reply, wrote one of his most pungent letters, of which the following is a copy:—

Newcastle, June 30, 1743.

Dear Emily,—Once, I think, I told you my mind freely before; I am constrained to do so once again. You say, ‘From the time of my coming to London, till last Christmas, you would not do me the least kindness.’ Do I dream, or you? Whose house were you in for three months, and upwards? By whose money were you sustained? It is a poor case, that I am forced to mention these things.

“But, ‘I would not take you lodgings in fifteen weeks.’ No, nor should I have done in fifteen years. I never once imagined, that you expected me to do this! Shall I leave the word of God to serve tables? You should know I have quite other things to mind; temporal things I shall mind less and less.

“‘When I was removed you never concerned yourself about me.’ That is not the fact. What my brother does, I do. Besides, I myself spoke to you abundance of times, before Christmas last.

“‘When I was at preaching, you would scarce speak to me.’ Yes; at least as much as to my sister Wright, or, indeed, as I did to any else at those times.

“‘I impute all your unkindness to one principle you hold, that natural affection is a great weakness, if not a sin.’ What is this principle I hold? That natural affection is a sin? or that adultery is a virtue? or that Mahommed was a prophet of God? and that Jesus Christ was a son of Belial? You may as well impute all these principles to me as one. I hold one just as much as the other. O Emmy, never let that idle, senseless accusation come out of your mouth.

“Do you hold that principle, ‘that we ought to be just (i. e. pay our debts) before we are merciful’? If I held it, I should not give one shilling for these two years, either to you or any other. And, indeed, I have, for some time, stayed my hand; so that I give next to nothing, except what I give to my relations. And I am often in doubt with regard to that, not whether natural affection be not a sin; but whether it ought to supersede common justice. You know nothing of my temporal circumstances, and the straits I am in, almost continually; so that were it not for the reputation of my great riches, I could not stand one week.

“I have now done with myself, and have only a few words concerning you. You are of all creatures the most unthankful to God and man. I stand amazed at you. How little have you profited under such means of improvement! Surely whenever your eyes are opened, whenever you see your own tempers, with the advantages you have enjoyed, you will make no scruple to pronounce yourself, (whores and murderers not excepted,) the very chief of sinners.—I am, etc.,

John Wesley.”[513]

This is a caustic letter; and yet John Wesley was a loving brother. For nearly thirty years afterwards, Emily Harper was a resident in the preachers’ house at West Street, was a constant attendant on the ministry of her brothers, and died in peace, at the age of eighty, about the year 1772.

Much has been already related respecting the Methodist persecutions of 1743; but the whole has not been told. At Newcastle, three Dissenting ministers agreed together to exclude all from the holy communion, who would not refrain from attending Wesley’s ministry. One of them publicly affirmed, that the Methodist preachers were all papists, and that their doctrine was Popery. Another preached against them, and said, “Many texts in the Bible are for them; but you ought not to mind these texts; for the papists have put them in.” At Cowbridge, in Wales, when Wesley attempted to preach, the mob shouted, cursed, blasphemed, and threw showers of stones almost without intermission. At Bristol, a clergyman preached, in several of the city churches, against the upstart Methodists; and was about to do so in the church of St. Nicholas, when, after naming his text, he was seized with a rattling in his throat, fell backward against the pulpit door, and, on the Sunday following, expired. At Egham, Wesley went to church, and listened to one of the most miserable sermons he ever heard; stuffed with dull, senseless, improbable lies against those whom the parson complimented with the title of “false prophets.”

At Sheffield, the ministers of the town so inflamed the people, that they were ready to tear the Methodists to pieces. An army officer drew his sword, and presented it at Charles Wesley’s breast. The meeting-house was ruthlessly demolished, and the mob encouraged by the constable. The windows of Mr. Bennett’s house, in which Charles Wesley lodged, were smashed to atoms; and stones flew thick and fast in all directions. Near Barley Hall, a few miles from Sheffield, Charles Wesley and David Taylor were assaulted with a storm of stones, eggs, and dirt; David was wounded in the head and lost his hat; and the clothes of his companion were besmeared with filth.[514]

At Hampton, in Gloucestershire, the mob threatened to make aprons of Whitefield’s gown; broke a young lady’s arm; threw Mr. Adams twice into a pool of water; seized Whitefield for the purpose of casting him into a pit of lime;[515] and, from four in the afternoon till midnight, continued rioting, and declaring that no Anabaptists, etc., should preach there, upon pain of being first put into a skin-pit, and afterwards into a brook. Women were pulled down the stairs by the hair of their heads; Mr. Williams was twice thrown into a hole full of noisome reptiles and stagnant water, and was beaten, and dragged along the kennel; while the Methodists, in general, were mobbed to such an extent, that many expected to be murdered, and hid themselves in holes and corners, to avoid their enemies.

All this was bad enough; but there was something else, perhaps, quite as painful. The press, in its attacks, became as virulent as ever. Among other publications issued, was the following: “The Notions of the Methodists fully disproved, with a Vindication of the Clergy of the Church of England from their Aspersions. In two Letters to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley. Newcastle: 1743.” In this precious morsel, of near a hundred pages, the Methodists are branded as “conceited, vain boasters,” and “ignorant, giddy, presumptuous enthusiasts.” Wesley is accused of “compassing sea and land to gain proselytes”; of “making unwarrantable dissensions in the Church”; and of “prejudicing the people, wherever he came, against his brethren the clergy.” “You are,” writes this northern pamphleteer, “guilty both of schism and rebellion, which are two very grievous and damnable sins. You are the sower and ringleader of dissension, endeavouring with unwearied assiduity to set the flock at variance with their ministers and each other. You assume to yourself great wisdom and high attainments in all spiritual knowledge; but it requires no depth of understanding, to judge whether your character and conduct suit that of the spiritually or carnally wise man in St. James. You scruple not to accuse the clergy of almost universally teaching devilish doctrine, and of being deceitful workers; but, however you may boast of your conversions, you will in the end render yourselves the ridicule of mankind. You go from one end of the nation to another, lamenting the heresies of your brethren, and instilling into the people’s minds, that they are led into errors by their pastors; when the truth is, you are perverting them with solifidian and antinomian blasphemies. Consider, sir, how wicked and abominable in the sight of God it is for you to misrepresent your brethren to the people, in this scandalous manner. The mischief is, the giddy multitude, like the Athenians, love to spend their time in nothing else but hearing some new thing. They are tired with the solid, plain, and rational way of preaching they have been accustomed to in the Church, and think it dry and insipid in comparison of the powerful charms of that ecstatic eloquence, those highflown metaphors, those pretty rhymes, those taking gestures, with which you tickle and bewitch them. You give a deplorable account of the debt you have contracted by the building of your meeting-houses; but unless you can bring better proof than you have hitherto done, of the necessity there is to give yourself all this trouble and expense, all wise and considerate men, without any breach of charity, will look upon subscriptions for carrying on your designs, as little less than picking the poor people’s pockets, and robbing them of that which should maintain their families.”

Such is a specimen of the malignant slanders cast upon Wesley by this northern clergyman.

It has been already stated, that the Rev. Henry Piers preached, in 1742, before the clergy of the deanery of Shoreham, a visitation sermon, which Wesley revised, and which, at the time of its delivery, gave great offence. The preacher chosen for this office, in 1743, was of another stamp; and his sermon also was published, with the following title: “Of Speaking as the Oracles of God. A Sermon, preached before the Reverend the Clergy of the Deanery of Shoreham, at the Visitation, held in the Parish Church of Farningham, on Thursday, May 19, 1743. By John Andrews, M.A., Vicar of that Church.” 8vo, 30 pages. The world would have sustained no loss, if Mr. Andrews’ sermon had not been printed. The preacher sneers at the fancies of theological empirics, in one paragraph, and, in the next, speaks of the doctrines of “justification and regeneration as questions and strifes of words, which profit not.” Mr. Piers’ visitation sermon is attacked on the subject of faith; and the assembled clergy of the deanery of Shoreham are officially informed, that “every one, that is rightly and duly baptized, not only receives the outward ordinance, but the inward and spiritual grace annexed to it.”

Another pamphlet, published at this period, was, “A Fine Picture of Enthusiasm, chiefly drawn by Dr. Scott; with an application to our modern Methodists.” 40 pages. Dedicated to the Bishop of London. In this miserable morceau, we are told, that “there are thousands flocking after those enthusiasts, Whitefield and Wesley, who appear to be deluding crowds of people into a passionate, mechanical religion.” One of them, at least, is suspected to be a masked Jesuit; and both have courted persecution, but have had a mortifying disappointment. The singing of the Methodists is enchanting, and their tunes the most melodious that ever were composed for church music; but their hymns are irrational, and, like their prayers, dwell upon a word, or are immediate addresses to the Son of God, and represent Him as much more compassionate to the human race than God the Father ever was. “One of these artful teachers,” says the writer, “has ordered the tickets for his people to be impressed with the crucifix; and this, with their confessions and other customs, intimates a manifest fondness for the orthodox institutions of the Church of Rome. These modest teachers have not failed to trumpet their own extraordinary piety and holiness, as well as their extraordinary knowledge and illumination; and this has been done with great effect among the people. Their doctrine has very generally occasioned disorder in the passions of their hearers; the screamings and convulsions common among them, in their public assemblies, being called convictions. Vast numbers have gone melancholy among them. Many have been led to quit their lawful and necessary employment; to neglect their husbands, children, and families; and from useful members in society have become mopes and visionaries, incapable of pursuing their proper business, or of supporting themselves with decency.”

A fourth publication, belonging to the year 1743, was “The Progress of Methodism in Bristol; or, the Methodist Unmasked: wherein the doctrines, discipline, policy, divisions, and successes of that novel sect are fully detected and properly displayed in Hudibrastick verse, by an Impartial Hand. To which is added, by way of appendix, the Paper-Controversy between Mr. Robert Williams, supported by Thomas Christie, Esq., Recorder of Savannah, and the Rev. Mr. Wesley, supported only by his own integrity and assurance. Together with authentic extracts, taken from a late narrative of the state of Georgia, relating to the conduct of that gentleman during his abode in that colony. Bristol: 1743.” 16mo, 72 pages.

Among other things, this mendacious pamphlet contains an affidavit, sworn by Robert Williams before Stephen Clutterbuck, Mayor of Bristol, to the effect, that two freeholders at Savannah became bail for Wesley’s appearance at the sessions to take his trial, and that he dishonourably escaped from the colony and left his bondsmen in the lurch. To this Wesley replied: “Captain Robert Williams, you know in your own soul, that every word of this is a pure invention, without one grain of truth from the beginning of it to the end. What amends can you ever make, either to God, or to me, or to the world? Into what a dreadful dilemma have you brought yourself! You must either openly retract an open slander, or you must wade through thick and thin to support it, till that God, to whom I appeal, shall maintain His own cause, and sweep you away from the earth.”[516]

Whitefield and Wesley, in this scurrilous production, are accused of preaching to get money, and of placing men with plates at each gate and stile of the fields in which they harangued the people, to gather collections for the Orphan House in Georgia and the Room in Bristol. Wesley is charged with pretending to work miracles; for, upon a company of women falling down before him, he first of all prays over them, then sings a hymn, and then exorcises devils. In the midst of a most severe winter, he had taken his converts, early in the morning, through frost and snow, to the river Froom, at Baptist Mills, where, on the ice being broken, he and they went into the water, where, with “limbs shuddering and teeth hackering,” he baptized or dipped them. Class-meetings are described, the leaders of which note the sins of those who confess to them, register them in a book, and, in due season, “report them to John, who admonishes one, reprimands another, and expels a third.” At first, each member gave a penny, but now the lowest payment was twopence weekly. At present there were forty-eight classes in Bristol, each class containing “an even dozen.” After the watchnight meetings at Kingswood,

“Men, boys, and girls, and women too,
Come strolling home at morning two:”

and at the nightly lovefeasts, “the ghostly father and all his sons draw near—

“The pious sisters, wives, and misses,
And greet them well with holy kisses.”

But enough of this. What did Wesley himself publish in 1743?

1. “Nature, Design, and General Rules of the United Societies, in London, Bristol, Kingswood, and Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Newcastle-upon-Tyne: printed by John Gooding, on the Side. Price one penny. 1743.” Twelve pages.

This, the first edition of the “Rules,” is signed by John Wesley only, and bears date February 23, 1743. A second edition was issued, signed by both John and Charles Wesley, and dated May 1, 1743. The first edition has annexed “A Prayer for those who are convinced of Sin,” consisting of eighteen stanzas of four lines each, and from which is taken the beautiful hymn, numbered 462, in the Wesleyan Hymn-Book, and beginning with the line, “O let the prisoners’ mournful cries”; a production admirably appropriate to the circumstances in which the members of the first Methodist societies were placed.

Societies cannot exist without rules. Up to the present, Wesley had regulated his societies by vivâ voce instructions and direct authority; but, as the Methodists increased and multiplied, this became more difficult, and hence the publication now mentioned. The Rules were both written and published at Newcastle upon Tyne. Eleven days after the date they bear, Wesley read them to the Newcastle society, and desired the members seriously to consider whether they were willing to observe them. The careful reader will remark the designation which Wesley gives to his societies, as well as his description of their “nature and design.” They are not “Wesleyan,” or “Methodist,” but “United Societies.” As compared with the rules now in use, there are a few variations in the original edition deserving of being noticed. For instance, in the list of the leader’s duties, the first in order was, to receive from each person in his class, once a week, what the members were willing to give toward the relief of the poor. This is now altered thus: “to receive what they are willing to give for the support of the gospel.” The present rule forbidding “brother going to law with brother,” in the first and several subsequent editions, simply read, “going to law.” To the original rule, “the giving or taking things on usury,” has been added the words, “that is, unlawful interest;” and to the rule prohibiting “uncharitable or unprofitable conversation,” there was added, in the fourth edition, published in 1744, “especially, speaking evil of ministers or those in authority,” words now changed for “magistrates or ministers.” In the list of things forbidden in the present Rules, is the important one, “borrowing without a probability of paying; or taking up goods without a probability of paying for them;” this is not in the first editions. And among the duties enjoined is “family and private prayer”; but in the first edition the word family is not found, though, in the fourth edition, published twelve months afterwards, it was inserted.

The curious reader will forgive these trifles. They are all the variations found in the first edition of the Rules, as compared with the Rules now in use. The Rules themselves are too well known to require insertion.

2. Another of Wesley’s publications, in 1743, was “A Word in Season; or, Advice to a Soldier.” 12mo, six pages. This is a model tract, and shows that, from the first, soldiers excited Wesley’s sympathy.

3. “Thoughts on Marriage and Celibacy.” 12mo, twelve pages. A strange production, substantially embodied in the piece in Wesley’s collected works, entitled, “Thoughts on a Single Life” (see vol. xxiv., page 252, orig. edit.). What shall we say of this? Wesley admits, that the popish doctrine forbidding to marry is a doctrine of devils, and that a person may be as holy in a married as in a single state; but he proceeds to show, that the happy few who have power to abstain from marriage are free from a thousand nameless domestic trials which are found sooner or later in every family. They are at liberty from the greatest of all entanglements, the loving one creature above all others; they have leisure to improve themselves; and, having no wife or children to provide for, may give all their worldly substance to God. Those highly favoured celibates are exhorted to prize the advantages they enjoy, and to be careful to keep them; they are to avoid all needless conversation, much more all intimacy with those of the other sex; all softness and effeminacy; all delicacy and needless self indulgence; and all sloth, inactivity, and indolence. They are to sleep no more than nature requires; to use as much bodily exercise as they can; to fast, and practise self denial; to wait upon the Lord without distraction; and to give all their time and their money to God. On the whole, without disputing whether the married or single life is the more perfect state. Wesley concludes by adding, “We may safely say, Blessed are they who abstain from things lawful in themselves, in order to be more devoted to God.”

Thirty years afterwards, when Wesley was twitted for marrying, after expressing such opinions, he averred, that his opinions with regard to the advantages of a single life were still unchanged; and that he entered the married state “for reasons best known to himself.”[517] This was a lame reply to a reasonable reflection on inconsistency. Wesley’s tract was a mistake; or, if not, Wesley ought to have adopted his own principles, and have lived and died a celibate.

4. In July, 1743, Wesley wrote his “Instructions for Children,” which reached a second edition in 1745, 12mo, 38 pages. Prefixed, was a preface, addressed “to all parents and schoolmasters,” stating, that a great part of the tract was translated from the French, and that it contained “the true principles of the Christian education of children,” and that these “should in all reason be instilled into them, as soon as they can distinguish good from evil.”

The first twelve lessons are a catechism, respecting God, the creation and the fall of man, man’s redemption, the means of grace, hell, and heaven. Then follow lessons how to regulate our desires, understanding, joy, and practices.

Repenting is defined as “being thoroughly convinced of our sinfulness, guilt, and helplessness”; faith in Christ, as “a conviction that Christ has loved me and given Himself for me;” holiness, as “the love of God and of all mankind for God’s sake.” Wesley asserts that “they who teach children to love praise, train them for the devil”; and that “fathers and mothers who give children everything they like, are the worst enemies they have.”

Wesley considered these “Instructions for Children,” extracted from Abbé Fleury and M. Poiret, superior, “for depth of sense and plainness of language, to anything in the English tongue.”[518] The Church Catechism he declared to be “utterly improper for children of six or seven years old,” and thought “it would be far better to teach them the short catechism, prefixed to the ‘Instructions.’”[519] Accordingly, he requested all his preachers to give children the “Instructions,” and to encourage them in committing the book to memory; while they themselves were to make it the subject of special study.[520]

Wesley’s attention to children is proverbial. “When I was a child,” said Robert Southey, “I was in a house, in Bristol, where Wesley was. On running downstairs before him, with a beautiful little sister of my own, he overtook us on the landing, when he lifted my sister in his arms and kissed her. Placing her on her feet again, he then put his hand upon my head, and blessed me; and I feel,” continued the bard, his eyes glistening with tears, and yet in a tone of grateful and tender recollection, “I feel as though I had the blessing of that good man upon me still.”[521]

In Wesley’s well known sermon on “Family Religion,” he lays it down that “the wickedness of children is generally owing to the fault or neglect of their parents.” The souls of children ought to be fed as often as their bodies. Methodists are exhorted not to send their sons “to any of the large public schools (for they are nurseries of all manner of wickedness), but to a private school, kept by some pious man, who endeavours to instruct a small number of children in religion and learning together.” He raises the same objection to “large boarding schools” for girls; for “in these seminaries, the children teach one another pride, vanity, affectation, intrigue, artifice, and, in short, everything which a Christian woman ought not to learn.” He adds: “I never yet knew a pious, sensible woman, that had been bred at a large boarding school, who did not aver, one might as well send a young maid to be bred in Drury Lane.”[522]

This is sweeping language; but at that period it was not without truth.

5. Another of Wesley’s publications, in 1743, was, “A Practical Treatise on Christian Perfection. Extracted from a late author.” 12mo, 115 pages. This was an abridgment of William Law’s pungent book, published in 1726.

6. Another was an abridgment of Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s Progress,” 12mo, 49 pages, price fourpence. Little did Wesley think that, within a hundred years, the whole of the glorious dreamer’s immortal work would be sold for a fourth of the price charged for his own fragment.

7. Wesley’s last, and most important work, which reached a second edition in the year it was published, was “An Earnest Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion,” 12mo, 53 pages.[523]

This was a clarion cry which created greater consternation than ever in the camp of Wesley’s enemies. First of all, he describes religion—the faith by which it is attained—and its reasonableness. Then, turning from those who do not receive the Christian system to those who say they do, he charges them, in the name of God, either to profess themselves infidels, or to be Christians; either to cast off the Bible, or their sins. “A common swearer, a sabbath breaker, a whoremonger, a drunkard, who says he believes the Scripture is of God, is a monster upon earth, the greatest contradiction to his own, as well as to the reason of all mankind.” After this, Wesley replies to the objections raised against Methodist doctrines, and to the calumny, that he and his coadjutors were papists in disguise, undermining the Church, and making preaching the means of replenishing their purses. It had been reported, that he received £1300 a year at the Foundery only, over and above what he received from Bristol, Kingswood, Newcastle, and other places. To this he answers, that the moneys given by the Methodists never come into his hands at all; but are received and expended by the stewards, in relieving the poor, and in buying, erecting, or repairing chapels; and that, so far from there being any overplus when this was done, he himself, at this moment, was in debt to the amount of £650, on account of the meeting-houses in London, Bristol, and Newcastle. He had “deliberately thrown up his ease, most of his friends, his reputation, and that way of life which of all others was most agreeable both to his natural temper and education; he had toiled day and night, spent all his time and strength, knowingly destroyed a firm constitution, and was hastening into weakness, pain, diseases, death,—to gain a debt of six or seven hundred pounds.” Then addressing himself to his brother clergy, he asks:—

“For what price will you preach eighteen or nineteen times every week; and this throughout the year? What shall I give you to travel seven or eight hundred miles, in all weathers, every two or three months? For what salary will you abstain from all other diversions than the doing good, and the praising God? I am mistaken if you would not prefer strangling to such a life, even with thousands of gold and silver.

“I will now simply tell you my sense of these matters, whether you will hear or whether you will forbear. Food and raiment I have; such food as I choose to eat, and such raiment as I choose to put on: I have a place where to lay my head: I have what is needful for life and godliness: and I apprehend this is all the world can afford. The kings of the earth can give me no more. For as to gold and silver, I count it dung and dross; I trample it under my feet; I esteem it just as the mire of the streets. I desire it not; I seek it not; I only fear lest any of it should cleave to me, and I should not be able to shake it off before my spirit returns to God. I will take care (God being my helper), that none of the accursed thing shall be found in my tents when the Lord calleth me hence. Hear ye this, all you who have discovered the treasures which I am to leave behind me; if I leave behind me £10,—above my debts and my books, or what may happen to be due on account of them,—you and all mankind bear witness against me, that I lived and died a thief and a robber.”

Wesley kept his word; for, within twelve months of his decease, he closed his cash-book with the following words, written with a tremulous hand, so as to be scarcely legible:—“For upwards of eighty-six years, I have kept my accounts exactly; I will not attempt it any longer, being satisfied with the continual conviction, that I save all I can, and give all I can; that is, all I have.”