“Swinfleet, July 19, 1768.
“Reverend and dear Sir,—One of Wintringham informed me yesterday, that you said no sensible and well meaning man could hear, and much less join, the Methodists; because they all acted under a lie, professing themselves members of the Church of England, while they licensed themselves as Dissenters. You are a little misinformed. The greater part of the Methodist preachers are not licensed at all; and several of them that are, are not licensed as Dissenters.
“We are, in truth, so far from being enemies to the Church, rather bigots to it. I dare not, like Mr. Venn, leave the parish church where I am, to go to an Independent meeting. I dare not advise others to go thither, rather than to church. I advise all, over whom I have any influence, steadily to keep to the Church. Meantime, I advise them to see, that the kingdom of God is within them; that their hearts be full of love to God and man; and to look upon all, of whatever opinion, who are like minded, as their ‘brother, and sister, and mother.’ O sir! what art of men or devils is this, which makes you so studiously stand aloof from those who are thus minded? I cannot but say to you, as I did to Mr. Walker, ‘The Methodists do not want you; but you want them.’ You want the life, the spirit, the power, which they have; not of themselves, but by the free grace of God; else how could it be, that so good a man, and so good a preacher, should have so little fruit of his labour, his unwearied labour, for so many years? Have your parishioners the life of religion in their souls? Have they so much as the form of it? Are the people of Wintringham, in general, any better than those of Winterton, or Horton? Alas! sir, what is it that hinders your reaping the fruit of so much pains and so many prayers?
“Is it not possible this may be the very thing, your setting yourself against those whom God owns, by the continual conviction and conversion of sinners? I fear, as long as you in anywise oppose these, your rod will not blossom, neither will you see the desire of your soul, in the prosperity of the souls committed to your charge.
“I am, dear sir, your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”[28]
In his journey southwards, Wesley visited, for the second time, his friend Fletcher, at Madeley,—a man, in many respects, the opposite of Mr. Adam of Wintringham, and especially in his feelings towards the Methodists. So far from shunning them, or being ashamed of them, he, as far as possible, identified himself with them; and, at the very last conference before he died, entreated Wesley to make Madeley a circuit town, and to put John Fletcher down as a supernumerary preacher there. He made his kitchen a Methodist chapel, in which Wesley’s itinerants and his own curate regularly preached; while his study was the place in which were penned the ablest defences of Wesley’s doctrines that were ever committed to the public press.
From Madeley, Wesley went to Shrewsbury, where, as early as 1744, there was a poor woman, who had been converted in London under the preaching of the Methodists, and who now obtained a living, by mending her neighbours’ stockings. While thus employed, at their respective houses, she would relate to them her religious experience, read to them a sermon, and then engage in prayer. By this means, she had already formed a society of sixteen or eighteen persons; and the Rev. Job Orton, the well known author, a native of Shrewsbury, and at this time its presbyterian minister, declared that this poor stocking-mending Methodist was not only of “an excellent and serious spirit,” but had had more success in converting sinners than he had had by all his preaching.[29]
Leaving Shrewsbury, Wesley rode right through Wales to Pembroke, where he “read prayers, preached, and administered the sacrament to a serious congregation at St. Daniels;” and so tried to remove some misunderstandings among the Methodists, that he “left the people full of good desires, and in tolerable good humour with each other.” Here Methodism had been begun seven years before, when Thomas Taylor traversed mountains, forded rivers, and plunged through bogs, with an empty purse and an empty stomach, seeking to save sinners with a zeal and a spirit of self denial worthy of the noblest missionary that ever lived.[30]
At Neath, where the minister of the parish was just dead, the churchwardens announced, that Wesley would preach in the parish church. He did so, but says: “I was greatly disgusted at the manner of singing. 1. Twelve or fourteen persons kept it to themselves, and quite shut out the congregation. 2. These repeated the same words, contrary to all sense and reason, six, or eight, or ten times over. 3. According to the shocking custom of modern music, different persons sung different words at one and the same moment; an intolerable insult on common sense, and utterly incompatible with any devotion.”
After more than five months of laborious travelling, Wesley came to Bristol on Saturday the 13th of August, between eleven and twelve o’clock at night. His conference had to open two days afterwards; but the first news he heard was, that his wife was dangerously ill in London. He had about forty-eight hours before he must meet his preachers, twenty-four of which were sabbatical. The distance to London and back again was two hundred and twenty-eight miles; the roads not the best; and the mode of travelling a perfect contrast to what exists at present. Wesley was an aged man, of more than sixty-five; for nearly six months he had been travelling and preaching incessantly, and might now fairly wish for a few hours’ rest. But no sooner did he hear of his wife’s affliction, than, notwithstanding her unloving heart and life, he started off to London, which, by travelling most of the sabbath day, he reached at one o’clock on Monday morning; when, finding that the fever was abated and the danger gone, he set out again within an hour, and, by hard driving, arrived in Bristol on Monday afternoon. Next morning he opened his annual conference, and closed it the following Friday, exclaiming, “Oh! what can we do for more labourers? We can only cry to the Lord of the harvest.”
One of the chief points discussed at the present conference was, whether the itinerant preachers should be allowed to engage in trade. This was a question at once delicate and difficult. In the first place, many of them had wives and children, the provision for whose maintenance was of the most slender kind. Secondly, the men were not ordained, and had no clerical status whatever. So far there seemed to be no difficulty. But, in the third place, though not ordained, the preachers were regarded by Wesley as occupying, to all practical intents and purposes, the same position as the regular ministers of the Church of England; and, hence, he considered it as unseemly and as improper for his itinerants to be engaged in trade as it would be for the clergy of the Established Church. “God,” says he, “has called us to supply their lack of service to the sheep that are without shepherds, and to spend and be spent therein. Every travelling preacher solemnly professes to have nothing else to do; and receives his little allowance for this very end, that he may not need to do anything else,—that he may not be entangled in the things of this life, but may give himself wholly to these things.”
The result was, the few preachers who had resorted to some kind of trade, for the purpose of eking out the insufficient maintenance for their families were advised to give up their business as soon as possible, and especially hawking drops (which their wives might sell at home), for it had “a bad appearance, and did not suit the dignity of their calling.”
The increase of members during the year was 430. Wesley was not satisfied with this. Hence the question:
“In many places the work of God seems to stand still. What can be done to revive and enlarge it?”
“Answer—1. Much good has been done by the books which have been published; and more would be, if they were spread more effectually.
“2. Let there be more field preaching; without this, the work of God will hardly increase in any place.
“3. Let the preaching at five in the morning be constantly kept up, wherever you can have twenty hearers. This is the glory of the Methodists! Whenever this is dropped, they will dwindle away into nothing. Rising early is equally good for soul and body. It helps the nerves better than a thousand medicines; and, in particular, preserves the sight, and prevents lowness of spirits, more than can be well imagined.
“4. As soon as there are four men or women believers in any place, put them into a band. In every place where there are bands, meet them constantly, and encourage them to speak without reserve.
“5. Be conscientiously exact in the whole Methodist discipline. One part of our discipline has been generally neglected, namely, the changing of the stewards. This has been attended with many ill consequences; many stewards have been ready to ride over the preachers head. Let every assistant, at the next quarterly meeting, change one steward at least, in every society, if there be therein any other man that can keep an account.
“6. Beware of formality in singing, or it will creep in upon us unawares. Is it not creeping in already, by those complex tunes which it is scarce possible to sing with devotion? Such is, ‘Praise the Lord, ye blessed ones!’ Such the long quavering Hallelujah, annexed to the Morning Song tune, which I defy any man living to sing devoutly. The repeating the same word so often, especially while another repeats different words, shocks all common sense, brings in dead formality, and has no more of religion in it than a Lancashire hornpipe. Do not suffer the people to sing too slow. This naturally tends to formality, and is brought in by those who have very strong or very weak voices. Why should not the assistant see, that they be taught to sing in every large society?
“7. Let a quarterly fast be observed in all our societies.
“8. Which of us ‘fasts every Friday in the year’? Which of us fasts at all? Does not this show the present temper of our minds soft and unnerved? How then can we advance the work of God, though we may preach loud and long enough? Here is the root of the evil. Hence, the work of God droops; few are convinced, few justified, few of our brethren sanctified! Hence, more and more doubt if we are to be sanctified at all till death. That we may all speak the same thing, I ask once for all, ‘Shall we defend this perfection or give it up’? You all agree to defend it, meaning thereby, as we did from the beginning, salvation from all sin, by the love of God and our neighbour filling our heart. You are all agreed, we may be saved from all sin before death. The substance then is settled. But as to the circumstance, is the change instantaneous or gradual? It is both one and the other. But should we in preaching insist upon both one and the other? Certainly. But how far from entire sanctification are we still! The religion of the Methodists, in general, is not internal: at least, not deep, universal, uniform: but superficial, partial, uneven. And what pains do we take to make it otherwise? Do we visit from house to house, according to the plan laid down in the minutes? Only spend half the time in this visiting, which you spend in talking uselessly, and you will have time enough. Do this, particularly in confirming and building up believers. Then, and not till then, the work of the Lord will prosper in your hands. Unless, also, we can take care of the rising generation, the present revival of religion will be res unius ætatis, it will last only the age of a man. Spend an hour a week with the children, in every large town, whether you like it or not. Talk with them every time you see any at home. Pray in earnest for them. Diligently instruct and vehemently exhort all parents at their own houses. Read carefully the life of Mr. Brainerd. Let us be followers of him, as he was of Christ; in absolute self devotion, in total deadness to the world, and in fervent love to God and man. We want nothing but this. Then the world and the devil must fall under our feet. Lastly, let us keep to the Church. They that leave the Church leave the Methodists. The clergy cannot separate us from our brethren; the Dissenting ministers can and do. Therefore, carefully avoid whatever has a tendency to separate men from the Church. In particular, preaching at any hour which hinders them from going to it. Let every assistant look to this. Let all the servants in our preaching houses go to church on Sunday morning at least. Let every preacher likewise go always on Sunday morning, and, when he can, in the afternoon. God will bless those who go on week days too, as often as they have opportunity.”
Wesley’s means, then, to promote a revival of the work of God, were a diffusion of Methodist literature, field and morning preaching, the enforcement of Methodist discipline, good singing, quarterly fasts, the preaching of the doctrine of Christian perfection, house to house visitation, attention to the young, continued union with the Established Church, and, above all and more than all, more inward and outward religion among the preachers.
Before leaving the conference of 1768, we insert a letter, which, so far as we are aware, has not before been published, except in the “Methodist Pocket Book” for 1799. It was addressed to James Morgan, one of Wesley’s itinerant preachers, well read, and popular, but who had sunk into a state of nervousness, and had settled down in the city of Dublin.
“St. Just, near the Land’s End, September 3, 1768.
“Dear Jemmy,—I have been thinking much of you; and why should I not tell you all I think, and all I fear, concerning you?
“I think all that you said at the conference upon the subject of the late debates was right. And it amounted to no more than this: ‘the general rule is, they who are in the favour of God know they are so. But there may be some exceptions. Some may fear and love God, and yet not be clearly conscious of His favour; at least, they may not dare to affirm that their sins are forgiven.’ If you put the case thus, I think no man in his senses will be tempted to contradict you; for none can doubt, but whoever loves God is in the favour of God. But is not this a little misstating the case? I do not conceive the question turned here; but you said, or was imagined to say, ‘all penitents are in God’s favour’; or, ‘all who mourn after God are in the favour of God.’ And this was what many disliked; because they thought it was unscriptural and unsafe, as well as contrary to what we had always taught. That this is contrary to what we had always taught, is certain; as all our hymns, as well as other writings, testify: so that (whether it be true or not), it is, without any question, a new doctrine among the Methodists. We have always taught, that a penitent mourned, or was pained, on this very account, because he felt he was not in the favour of God, but had the wrath of God abiding on him. Hence we supposed the language of his heart to be, ‘Lost and undone for aid I cry’; and we believed he was really ‘lost and undone,’ till God did
“And I still apprehend this to be the scriptural doctrine, confirmed, not by a few detached texts, but by the whole tenor of Scripture, and, more particularly, of the Epistle to the Romans. But if so, the contrary to it must be unsafe, for that general reason, because it is unscriptural; to which one may add the particular reason, that it naturally tends to lull mourners to sleep; to make them say, ‘Peace, peace’ to their souls, when there is no peace.
“But it may be asked, ‘Will not this discourage mourners?’ Yes, it will discourage them from stopping where they are; it will discourage them from resting, before they have the witness in themselves, before Christ is revealed in them. But it will encourage them to seek in the gospel way; to ask till they receive pardon and peace. And we are to encourage them, not by telling them they are in the favour of God, though they do not know it; (such a word as this we would never utter in a congregation, at the peril of our souls;) but by assuring them, ‘Every one that seeketh findeth, every one that asketh receiveth.’
“I am afraid you have not been sufficiently wary in this; but have given occasion to them that sought occasion. But this is not all. I doubt you did not ‘see God’s hand in Shimei’s tongue.’ ‘Unto you it was given to suffer’ a little of what you extremely wanted,—obloquy and evil report. But you did not acknowledge either the gift or the Giver. You saw only T. Olivers, not God. O Jemmy, you do not know yourself. You cannot bear to be continually steeped in the esteem and praise of men. Therefore, I tremble at your stay at Dublin; it is the most dangerous place for you under heaven! All I can say is, God can preserve you in the fiery furnace, and I hope He will.
“I am, dear Jemmy, yours affectionately,
“John Wesley.”
A letter has been already inserted in which Wesley congratulates his brother on the reports he had received respecting the success of his ministry in London. This was somewhat premature, for, in reality, instead of there being an increase in the London circuit, there was a decrease of seventy members; and there was a serious intention to abandon the chapel in Spitalfields. Hence the following letter “to the stewards of the Foundery.”
“Pembroke, August 6, 1768.
“My dear Brethren,—The thing you mention is of no small concern, and ought not to be determined hastily. Indeed, it would be easy to answer, if we considered only how to save money; but we are to consider also how to save souls. Now, I doubt whether we should act wisely in this respect were we to give up the chapel in Spitalfields. We have no other preaching place in or near that populous quarter of the town; and a quarter which, upon one account, I prefer before almost any other; namely, that the people in general are more simple, and less confused by any other preachers. I think, therefore, it would not be well to give up this, if we could gain a thousand pounds thereby. I should look upon it as selling the souls of men for money; which God will give us in due time without this. That many who live near the Foundery would be glad of it I allow, because it would save them trouble. But neither can I put the saving of trouble in competition with the saving of souls.
“I am, my dear brethren, your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”[31]
Poor Spitalfields! Noble Wesley! Let the fashionable Methodists of the present generation ponder such sentiments as these, and hesitate before they abandon their old chapels, because surrounded by none but the abject and the poor, and because keeping them open involves expense and trouble.
It is a remarkable fact, that almost in the very year in which Methodism was founded in America, it was instituted in Newfoundland. For nine years, Laurence Coughlan was one of Wesley’s itinerants. In 1764, he was ordained by Erasmus, the Greek bishop, and was put away from the Methodist connexion. In 1766,[32] he was reordained by the Bishop of London, and was sent to Newfoundland by the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. It is true, he went as a clergyman of the Church of England, but he took his Methodism with him, and established classes, in which the present Methodism of Newfoundland had its origin. In a letter to Wesley, he writes:
“I am, and do confess myself, a Methodist. The name I love, and hope I ever shall. The plan which you first taught me, as to doctrine and discipline, I have followed. We have the sacrament once a month, and have about two hundred communicants. This is more than all the other missionaries in the land have: nor do I know of any who attend our sacrament, who have not the fear of God; and some are happy in His love. There are some also whose mouths the Lord hath opened to give a word of exhortation; and I hope He will raise up many more.”
It would be a pleasant task to trace the steps of Mr. Coughlan in Newfoundland; but suffice it to remark that he returned to England, and shortly after, while conversing with Wesley in his study, was seized with paralysis, and suddenly removed to his rest in heaven.[33]
Coughlan was one of those in London, who professed to receive the blessing of Christian perfection; but, like many others, imbibed fantastic notions respecting it. Soon after the conference of 1768, Wesley wrote to him as follows.
“Dear Laurence,—By a various train of providences you have been led to the very place where God intended you should be; and you have reason to praise Him, that He has not suffered your labour there to be in vain. In a short time, how little will it signify, whether we had lived in the Summer Islands, or beneath
‘The rage of Arctos and eternal frost!’
“How soon will this dream of life be at an end! And when we are once landed in eternity, it will be all one, whether we spent our time on earth in a palace, or had not where to lay our head.
“You never learned, either from my conversation, or preaching, or writings, that ‘holiness consisted in a glow of joy.’ I constantly told you quite the contrary: I told you it was the love of God and our neighbour; the image of God stamped on the heart; the life of God in the soul of man; the mind that was in Christ, enabling us to walk as Christ also walked. If Mr. Maxfield, or you, took it to be anything else, it was your own fault, not mine; and, whenever you waked out of that dream, you ought not to have laid the blame of it upon me. Perhaps you thought you had received what you had not. But pray do not measure all men by yourself; do not imagine you are the universal standard. If you deceived yourself, you should not infer that all others do. Many think they are justified, and are not; but we cannot infer, that none are justified. So neither, if many think they are ‘perfected in love,’ and are not, will it follow that none are so. Blessed be God, though we set a hundred enthusiasts aside, we are still ‘encompassed with a cloud of witnesses,’ who have testified, and do testify, in life and in death, that perfection which I have taught these forty years! This perfection cannot be a delusion, unless the Bible be a delusion too; I mean, loving God with all our hearts, and our neighbour as ourselves. I pin down all its opposers to this definition of it. No evasion! No shifting the question! Where is the delusion of this? Either you received this love, or you did not. If you did, dare you call it a delusion? If you received anything else, it does not at all affect the question. O Laurence, if sister Coughlan and you ever did enjoy this, humble yourselves before God for casting it away; if you did not, God grant you may!
“Yours, etc.,
“John Wesley.”[34]
Wesley had been incessantly travelling for nearly the last six months; but no sooner were the sessions of the Bristol conference ended, than he started off to Cornwall, where he spent the interval between August 26 and September 18. On his way, he preached to a serious congregation at Taunton, and asks, “Shall we have fruit here also?” Wesley might well ask this. For many a long year, he had been accustomed to preach at Taunton, and had been received either with stupid indifference or active contempt. As early as 1744, he attempted to preach in the yard of the Three Cups inn; but had no sooner named his text, than the mayor came, in all his full blown dignity, and ordered the proclamation to be read, and silenced the preacher.[35] Almost a quarter of a century had elapsed since then; and now there was a small society, of which one of the members was Thomas Dingle, who for sixty-three years was a chief supporter of the Taunton society, and one of its brightest ornaments.
Wesley’s labours in Cornwall were Herculean. Though now in the sixty-sixth year of his age, for eight days together he preached, “mostly in the open air, three or four times a day,” and says, “I hardly felt any weariness, first or last.” He was also not without adventures. At Polperro, his bedroom was filled with pilchards and conger eels, which made him glad to accept the offer of another. At Plymouth, on his return, a “silly man talked without ceasing” during the sermon, till Wesley desired the people “to open to the right and left, and let him look his garrulous disturber fairly in the face,” upon which the noisy prater “pulled off his hat, and quietly went away.” Between Charlton and Lympsham, the rivers were so swollen, that Wesley’s horse had to swim, and Wesley himself had to be taken to his lodgings on an “honest man’s shoulders.”
Reaching Bristol on September 24, Wesley spent the next few days in visiting the neighbouring towns and villages. At Frome, he found the liveliest society that there was in the Wiltshire circuit: a fact which greatly surprised him, because the town was made up of a strange medley “of men of all opinions,—anabaptists, quakers, presbyterians, Arians, antinomians, Moravians, and what not.” He adds: “if any hold to the truth, in the midst of all these, surely the power must be of God.”
The Frome Methodists, however, were not untrained recruits, but veteran soldiers, who had stood the brunt of many a furious and fiery fight. Twenty-two years before this, Methodism had been started in their town, by a poor Bristol pedlar, who dealt in rags and small ware, singing to the people Wesley’s hymns. Since then, a vagabond barber——a tool in the hands of the parish priest——had dragged two Methodist women to prison. Mrs. Seagram had been fined £20 for permitting her house to be used as a preaching place; and, not being able to pay the fine, had had all her stock in trade and her household goods sold by public auction, while she and her two fatherless children were turned penniless out of doors. In one instance, the mob rushed into the preaching room, seized the benches, and made a bonfire of them. Methodism in Frome had outlived all this; and, despite the sectarianism of the town, it was destined still to live and prosper.
On October 24, Wesley set out for London, and employed the first week in November in a preaching tour through the three counties of Hertford, Bedford, and Northampton. At Hertford, a chapel had been built by Mr. Andrews, who afterwards, in 1777, gave to Wesley’s new chapel in City Road the pulpit which has been used in Methodism’s cathedral from that time to this.[36]
The second week in November was spent in a similar visitation of the societies in Oxfordshire. He writes: “I was desired to preach at Oxford. The room was throughly filled, and not with curious, but deeply serious hearers. Many of these desired, that our travelling preachers would take them in their turn; with which I willingly complied.” Oxford had been Methodism’s cradle, but the infant had long been absent. Henceforth, Methodism was one of Oxford’s institutions; though, for long, long years, it was a thing of feebleness and of small dimensions. The “Oxfordshire” circuit extended over the greater part of Berkshire, Wiltshire, and Buckinghamshire; and, even as late as 1787, there were throughout the circuit only four Methodist chapels, namely, at Oxford, Wycombe, Wallingford, and Witney. At Aylesbury, the Methodists preached in the baptists’ chapel; at Newbury, in an ironfounder’s shop; and at all the other places, in private houses. The small chapel in Oxford was in New-Inn-Hall Lane;[37] and the Oxford home of the two unmarried preachers, Joseph Entwisle and Richard Reece, was a garret in the house of a journeyman shoemaker, for which the society paid sixpence a week as rent; and which had to serve them as dining room, sitting room, bedroom, and study,[38] all in one.
The third week in November was occupied in meeting the London classes; and the fourth in a tour in Kent. The rest of the year was chiefly spent in town.
Wesley was fervent, but not fanatical; he loved earnestness in religious worship, but not disorder. Hence the following letter to Mr. Merryweather, of Yarm.
“Lewisham, December 10, 1768.
“My dear Brother,—The matter is short: all things in Divine worship must ‘be done decently and in order.’ Two must never pray at the same time, nor one interrupt another. Either Alice Brammah must take advice, or the society must be warned to keep away from her. These are the very things which were the beginning of poor George Bell’s fall.
“I am, your affectionate brother,
John Wesley.”[39]
We have already seen that, by an enormous effort, in the month of August, Wesley hurried from Bristol to London to visit his afflicted wife. On his return he wrote her as follows.
“My Love,—I can make allowance for faintness, and weakness, and pain. I remember when it was my own case, at this very place, and when you spared no pains in nursing and waiting upon me, till it pleased God to make you the chief instrument in restoring my strength. I am glad you have the advice of a skilful physician; but you must not be surprised or discouraged if you do not recover your strength so soon as one might wish, especially at this time of the year. What is chiefly to be desired is, that God may sanctify all His dispensations to you, and that all may be the means of your being more entirely devoted to Him, whose favour is better than strength, or health, or life itself.
“I am, dear Molly, your ever affectionate husband,
“John Wesley.”
No sooner was Wesley’s wife convalescent, than, instead of waiting to welcome him to his home in London, she, in one of her insane piques, took her departure to Newcastle. The following letter to his brother refers to this, and also to his preparing an edition of Young’s “Night Thoughts,” and to other matters.
“London, December 17, 1768.
“Dear Brother,—I thank you for your reproof. There is reason in what you say. If there was not evil, there was the appearance of evil.
“Matters have not been well carried on at Liverpool; but ‘what cannot be cured must be endured.’
“Why, you simpleton, you are cutting me out a month’s work. Nay, but I have no leisure nor inclination to write a book. I intend only: (1) to leave out what I most dislike; (2) to mark what I most approve of; (3) to prefix a short preface. And I shall run the hazard of printing it at Bristol. There you yourself can read the proof sheets.
“You do well with regard to my sister Emily. What farther is wanting I will supply. I hear nothing from our friend at Newcastle. I am now a mere fellow of a college again. Adieu!
“John Wesley.”[40]
Wesley was still troubled on account of the chapel debts. Nearly £6000 had been contributed; but there was still a debt of £7728 upon the chapels in the United Kingdom undefrayed.[41] This gave rise to the following letter.
“London, December, 1768.
“My dear Brother,—Last year, Mr. H—— was much persuaded that, by means of the yearly subscription, our whole debt of above £11,000 would be paid within two years. Many of our brethren were more sanguine still. They were persuaded that, by generously exerting themselves, and giving a large sum at once, it would be paid in one year. I did not expect this; but I would not contradict, because I would not discourage them. The event was as I foresaw. By the noble effort which many of our brethren made, most of the pressing debts are already discharged, amounting in the whole to near £7000. But a debt of about £7000 remains upon us still. What can be done with regard to this? I will tell you what occurs to my mind. Many of our brethren chose to subscribe yearly ten, five, three, two guineas, or less. I doubt not but these will cheerfully pay the residue of their subscription, and perhaps some of them will add a little thereto, as they see the great occasion there is for it. A few delayed subscribing, because they wanted to see the event; supposing the design to be impracticable, and that ‘nothing good would come out of it,’ As it now appears that great good has come out of it, that many burdens are already removed, I cannot but earnestly exhort all these now to set their shoulders to the work. Now, at least, let them exert themselves, for my sake, for the gospel’s sake, and for the sake of their still afflicted brethren, who groan under a load which they cannot well bear, and yet cannot remove without our assistance. Several generously contributed at once, in hope of paying the whole debt. Of them nothing more can be required, but their prayers that others may be as openhearted as themselves. Nevertheless, if of their own free goodwill they see good to add a little to their former benefactions—this, as well as the former, is lent unto the Lord, and what they lay out shall be paid them again. Ought I not to add, that there were some of our brethren who did not answer my expectation? I knew they were able to assist largely; and I flattered myself they were not less willing than able, as they owed me their own souls also, and this was the first favour of the kind which I had requested of them. Let me be excused from saying any more of what is past. Let them now drop all excuses and objections, and show they love me and their brethren, and the work of God, not in word only, but in deed and in truth. Let me have joy over you, my brethren, in particular. You have a measure of this world’s goods, and you see your brother hath need. I have need of your help, inasmuch as the burdens of my brethren are my own. Do not pass by on the other side; but come and help as God has enabled you. Do all you can to lighten the labour, and strengthen the hands, of your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”[42]
Wesley was a great reader, as well as a great writer; and, during the year 1768, his journal is enriched with an unusual number of his critical remarks. A few may be given as specimens of others.
“January 11.—This week I spent my scraps of time in reading Mr. Wodrow’s ‘History of the Sufferings of the Church of Scotland.’ It would transcend belief, but that the vouchers are too authentic to admit of any exception. O what a blessed governor was that goodnatured man, so called, King Charles the Second! Bloody Queen Mary was a lamb, a mere dove, in comparison of him!”
“April 29.—I read over an extremely sensible book, but one that surprised me much: ‘An Inquiry into the Proofs of the Charges commonly advanced against Mary Queen of Scotland.’ By means of original papers, the author has made it clear: (1) That she was altogether innocent of the murder of Lord Darnley, and no way privy to it. (2) That she married Lord Bothwell (then near seventy years old, herself but four-and-twenty), from the pressing instance of the nobility in a body, who, at the same time, assured her he was innocent of the king’s murder. (3) That Murray, Morton, and Lethington, themselves contrived that murder, in order to charge it upon her; as well as forged those vile letters and sonnets which they palmed upon the world for hers. ‘But how then can we account for the quite contrary story, which has been almost universally received?’ Most easily. It was penned and published in French, English, and Latin, (by Queen Elizabeth’s order,) by George Buchanan, who was secretary to Lord Murray and in Queen Elizabeth’s pay; so he was sure to throw dirt enough. Nor was she at liberty to answer for herself. ‘But what then was Queen Elizabeth?’ As just and merciful as Nero, and as good a Christian as Mahomet.”
“May 20.—I went on reading that fine book, Bishop Butler’s ‘Analogy.’ But I doubt it is too hard for most of those for whom it is chiefly intended. Freethinkers, so called, are seldom close thinkers. They will not be at the pains of reading such a book as this. One that would profit them must dilute his sense, or they will neither swallow nor digest it.”
“November 19.—I read Dr. Nowell’s answer to Mr. Hill, concerning the expulsion of the students at Oxford. He has said all that could be said for that stretch of power; and he says quite enough, to clear the Church of England from the charge of predestination: a doctrine which he proves to be utterly inconsistent with the Common Prayer, the Communion Service, the Office of Baptism, the articles, the homilies, and the other writings of those that compiled them.”
The last extract refers to a matter too nearly allied to Methodism to be passed without further notice.
“On the 12th of March, 1768, six students belonging to Edmund hall, Oxford, were expelled the university, for holding Methodistical tenets, and taking upon them to pray, read or expound the Scriptures, and sing hymns in private houses. The principal of the hall, Dr. Dixon, defended their doctrines from the thirty-nine articles of the Established Church, and spoke in the highest terms of their piety and the exemplariness of their lives; but sentence was pronounced against them. Dr. Nowell, one of the heads of houses present, observed, that as these six gentlemen were expelled for having too much religion, it would be very proper to inquire into the conduct of some who had too little.”[43]
The expelled students were Benjamin Kay, Thomas Jones, Thomas Grove, Erasmus Middleton, Joseph Shipman, and James Mathews. The junta of expellers were Drs. Durell, Randolph, Fothergill, Nowell, and Atterbury.[44] The charges brought against the young culprits were: 1. That they had held or frequented illicit conventicles, where some of them, though not in orders, had preached and prayed extempore, particularly in the house of a staymaker, a woman who herself officiated and taught. 2. That some of them had been bred up to the lowest trades and occupations, for one had been a weaver and kept a taphouse, a second had been a barber, a third a draper; and further all were wholly illiterate, and incapable of performing the statutable exercises of the university; and were maintained at the charge of persons suspected of enthusiasm. 3. That they were attached to the sect called Methodists, and held their doctrines, namely, “that faith without works is sufficient for salvation; that there is no necessity for good works; that the immediate impulse of the Spirit is to be waited for; that once a child of God always a child of God; and the like.” 4. That one of them, before his entrance into the university, had preached, and, in defiance of his father’s authority, had connected himself with the Methodists. 5. That some of them had behaved very irreverently and disrespectfully to their tutor, and had industriously sought to cavil with and to vex him.[45]
It is right to add, that none of these young men had been connected with Wesley. Mr. Jones, the barber, had, for some time resided, with the Rev. John Newton, and, under his instruction, had made considerable progress in the Greek and Hebrew languages. Mr. Kay was of a respectable family, and an excellent scholar, and had an exhibition paid by the Ironmongers’ Company. Mr. Mathews had been instructed by Fletcher of Madeley. Mr. Middleton had been under the tutelage of the Rev. Thomas Haweis. Of Mr. Grove and Mr. Shipman we know nothing, except that the latter, after his expulsion, was admitted to the college of the Countess of Huntingdon, at Trevecca.
This act of Oxford tyranny, as might be expected, created great commotion; and numbers of tracts and pamphlets, pro and con, were published. Among others, Whitefield rushed into the battle, in a “Letter to the Rev. Dr. Durell,” 8vo, 50 pages, and defended the expelled with great vigour and effect; as also did Dr. Horne, afterwards bishop of Norwich. Macgowan published his “Shaver,” in which he shaved the collegiate rulers with no gentle hand, and, in the process, must have made them smart. Sir Richard Hill, a young man of thirty-six, who for some time past had been using his utmost endeavours to improve Oxford morality, issued his “Pietas Oxoniensis,” 8vo, 85 pages, in which he belaboured the junta with unsparing severity. Several replies were written in justification of the Oxford bull; and, after an immense expenditure of time, and not a little display of angry temper, this execrable act of the Oxford authorities was allowed to repose in silence. It is a fact, however, far too serious to be forgotten, that while Oxford university, in past days, has tolerated in its students the most notorious wickedness, and while, at the present day, it tolerates German scepticism and Romish heresy, it once, in one of its paroxysms of pious zeal, ignominiously expelled six young men, whose only crimes were, that some of them had been ignobly bred, and all had sung, and prayed, and read the Scriptures in private houses.
The Countess of Huntingdon was accused of maintaining some or all of these young students at the Oxford university; and perhaps there was a modicum of truth in this. Be that as it may, she soon made her young preachers independent of Oxford help. Trevecca House, in the parish of Talgarth, in Wales, was an ancient structure, supposed to have been erected about the year 1176. This building the countess opened as a college, five months after the expulsions just mentioned,—on the 24th of August, 1768, the anniversary of her ladyship’s birthday. Whitefield preached at the opening; Fletcher was made the president; and, for a few months, Mr. Easterbrook the head master; when Joseph Benson was appointed his successor. Of course, Fletcher was not expected to relinquish his charge at Madeley; but he was to attend the college at Trevecca as often as he conveniently could; to give advice, with regard to the appointment of masters, and the admission or exclusion of students; to oversee their studies and conduct; to assist their piety; and to judge of their qualifications for the ministry.[46] As is well known, both Fletcher and Benson soon retired, because of the doctrinal differences that sprang up; but Trevecca was still used as a seminary for the training of Calvinistic ministers, till 1792, when the institution was removed to Cheshunt, in Hertfordshire. Wesley from the beginning was in doubt of it, though, perhaps, without reason. In a letter to his brother, dated “May 19, 1768,” he writes: “I am glad Mr. Fletcher has been with you. But if the tutor fails, what will become of our college at Trevecca? Did you ever see anything more queer than their plan of institution? Pray who penned it, man or woman? I am afraid the visitor too will fail.”[47] Was there a tinge of jealousy in this? We know not. Troubles, it is true, soon sprung up; but the countess made Trevecca her principal place of residence; and within its walls were trained a noble band of earnest, laborious, and useful ministers. The old building is now the residence of a Celtic farmer.[48] O tempora! O mores!
Excepting the hubbub arising out of the Oxford expulsions, there was not much, in 1768, that was antagonistic to the Methodist movement. A small, paltry pamphlet was published, with the title, “Enthusiasm Reprehended. Three Letters to Mr. John Wesley. With Strictures on his Character, the Reception he met with at Perth, and his Conduct on that occasion.” A 12mo volume, of 212 pages, was also issued, entitled “Sermons to Asses”; and was dedicated to Whitefield, Wesley, Romaine, and Madan. Besides these, an eighteenpenny poem was published, entitled “The Hypocrite: a comedy;” in which the writer tries to turn Cibber’s satire on disloyalty into a castigation of enthusiasm.
Wesley’s publications also were fewer than usual, and hardly any of them original. The following belong to this period.
1. “A Letter to the Rev. Dr. Rutherforth.” This has been already noticed in a previous chapter.
2. “A Caution to False Prophets: a Sermon on Matthew vii. 15–20. Particularly recommended to the people called Methodists.” 12mo, 12 pages. In this sermon, Wesley discusses a point which he confesses had puzzled him for many years, namely, whether it is right to hear a minister who is either immoral, or who preaches false doctrine. He still hesitates to pronounce an opinion, and recommends those who were in doubt to “wait upon God in prayer, and then act according to the best light they had.”
3. “Instructions for Members of Religious Societies. Translated from the French.” Under the date of February 26, 1768, Wesley writes: “I translated from the French one of the most useful tracts I ever saw, for those who desire to be ‘fervent in spirit.’ How little does God regard men’s opinions! What a multitude of wrong opinions are embraced by all the members of the Church of Rome! Yet how highly favoured have many of them been!”
4. “An Extract from the Rev. Mr. Law’s Later Works.” Two vols., 12mo, 251 and 204 pages. About a quarter of a century before this, Wesley had published an extract from Law’s “Christian Perfection”; an extract from his “Serious Call”; and an extract from his “Serious Answer to Dr. Trapp.” He now published similar extracts from Law’s answer to “Christianity as old as Creation,” his “Spirit of Prayer,” his “Spirit of Love,” his “Letters,” and his “Address to the Clergy.”
5. “An Extract of the Life of the late Rev. David Brainerd.” 12mo, 274 pages. Just at the time when Methodism was extending its mission to America and Newfoundland, Wesley issued his life of one of the most devoted missionaries that ever lived: a young man who died before he arrived at the age of thirty; but whose piety, for depth and fervour, has seldom been excelled; and whose four years’ mission among the Delaware and other Indians, from 1743 to 1747, would warm the heart and improve the character of all candidates for missionary work.
Besides the above, another publication belongs to the year 1768,—“Free Thoughts on the Present State of Public Affairs,” 12mo, 47 pages. This, strictly speaking, was Wesley’s first political pamphlet. At the general election of 1768, John Wilkes, at the time an outlaw, was returned to parliament by the county of Middlesex; and, shortly after, was arrested and committed to the King’s Bench prison. For nearly a fortnight, crowds collected outside the prison walls, and soldiers were sent to protect the place. A riot followed; the soldiers fired; six of the rioters were killed, and fourteen badly wounded; and the exploit got the name of the “Massacre of St. George’s Fields.” For months, Wilkes’s business occupied the attention of court and cabinet; when the wretched demagogue was sentenced to pay a fine of £1000, to be imprisoned for two-and-twenty months, and afterwards to find security for good behaviour for seven years. While in prison, he was at the zenith of his fame; subscriptions were opened for the payment of his debts; and his likenesses were so multiplied, that portraits of him squinted from the signboards of half the public houses in the kingdom.
It was in the midst of such a state of things, that Wesley wrote the pamphlet already mentioned. He admits that, though “cobblers, tinkers, porters, and hackney coachmen” think themselves wise enough “to instruct both the king and his council,” he himself is “not so deeply learned. Politics were beyond his province; but he would use the privilege of an Englishman to speak his naked thoughts.” “I have,” he writes, “no bias, one way or the other. I have no interest depending. I want no man’s favour, having no hopes, no fears, from any man.” He then proceeds to defend the character of the king; and maintains that, as an outlaw, Wilkes was incapacitated to take a seat in the House of Commons. “Encumbered with no religion, and disappointed in his application for place and power, Wilkes had set up for patriot, vehemently inveighed against evil counsellors and grievances, and was paid in French louis d’or for his agitative services.” Wesley then expresses the opinion that, “supposing things to take their natural course, they must go from bad to worse; the land will become a field of blood; and many thousands of poor Englishmen will sheathe their swords in each other’s bowels, for the diversion of their good neighbours. Then, either a commonwealth will ensue, or else a second Cromwell. One must be; but it cannot be determined which,—King Wilkes, or King Mob.”