Wesley writes:

Considering the steps that Wesley had already taken, this is somewhat amusing; as are also the two following letters, written soon after, the first to William Percival,⁠[564] and the second to Samuel Bardsley.

Before proceeding with Wesley’s history, we insert another letter belonging to this period. It is now for the first time published, and refers to John Hutchinson, the founder of Hutchinsonianism.

Wesley was always ready for all kinds of useful work,—reading, writing, preaching, praying, and begging for the poor. Towards the close of his career, especially, he seems to have commenced almost every year by an effort to relieve the miseries of his destitute fellow creatures. Accordingly, at the opening of 1787, five days were spent in traversing the streets of London to obtain subscriptions for this purpose. About two hundred members of his own London society were in great distress; and he hoped to provide for them and for others, at least, food and clothing. He writes: “I was much disappointed. Six or seven, indeed, of our brethren, gave £10 apiece. If forty or fifty had done this, I could have carried my design into execution. However, much good was done with £200, and many sorrowful hearts made glad.”

Seven years previous to this, Wesley had preached his first sermon at Newark upon Trent. He was now invited to open a new chapel there; and took coach, for that purpose, on February 9, travelled all night, and arrived next day. On Sunday morning, February 11, at nine o’clock, he preached in the “lightsome, cheerful building”; and again at half-past five in the afternoon; when the mayor and several aldermen of the town were present.

This was a kind of service which now frequently fell to Wesley’s lot. On Sunday, February 25, after preaching twice in London, he took the mail coach, and, by travelling all night, arrived at Exeter in about four-and-twenty hours. He then hurried off to Plymouth, and opened a new chapel there. On Sunday morning, March 4, he conducted a service, which lasted from half-past nine to nearly one o’clock; and, in the evening, the throng was such, that, in order to reach the pulpit, he was literally lifted over the people’s heads. At five o’clock next morning, the chapel was again crowded; and, at six, he departed by coach, “leaving,” says he, “such a flame behind us as was never kindled here before.”

Notwithstanding the heavy services of the previous day, he travelled all the way to Exeter in a continuous rain, and again preached “to as many as could possibly squeeze” into the chapel; and says, “I know not, that I ever saw such an impression made on the people of Exeter before.”

After this, he proceeded to Bristol, where “the work of God had much increased, especially among the young men,” but where, out of sixteen hundred members, only five, or ten, or, at the most, a dozen hearers formed the five o’clock morning congregations. Wesley says, he strongly warned them of their indolence; and, during his stay, the congregations were increased to three hundred; but even this was small, considering the prestige of the place, and the fame of the unequalled minister.

Wesley now was suffering considerable anxiety respecting Dr. Coke, who, with his three missionaries, had set sail, five months before, for Newfoundland, but who, unknown to Wesley, had been drifted to the West Indies. Hence the following, addressed to William Black.

On March 19, Wesley left Bristol for Ireland, preaching on the way at Stroud, Cirencester, Gloucester, and numerous other places. At Birmingham, he administered the sacrament to seven or eight hundred communicants. At Wolverhampton, he opened a new chapel. At Burslem, he held one of the most remarkable lovefeasts he had ever witnessed; for here there had been “such an outpouring of the Spirit as had not been in any other part of the kingdom; particularly in the meetings for prayer. Fifteen or twenty had been justified in a day; some of them the most notorious, abandoned sinners, in all the country.” He “appointed to preach at five in the morning of March 30, but, soon after four, he was saluted by a concert of music, both vocal and instrumental, making the air ring, with a hymn to the tune of Judas Maccabeus. It was,” says he, “a good prelude; so I began almost half an hour before five; yet the house was crowded both above and below.”

He writes: “Saturday, March 31—I went on to Macclesfield, and found a people still alive to God, in spite of swiftly increasing riches. If they continue so, it will be the only instance I have known, in above half a century. I warned them in the strongest terms I could, and believe some of them had ears to hear.”

He arrived in Dublin on Good Friday, April 6. On Easter Sunday he preached in Bethesda chapel, of which his friend, the Rev. Edward Smyth, was chaplain. He writes: “Mr. Smyth read prayers, and gave out the hymns, which were sung by fifteen or twenty fine singers; the rest of the congregation listening with much attention, and as much devotion, as they would have done to an opera. But is this Christian worship? Or ought it ever to be suffered in a Christian church? It was thought we had between seven and eight hundred communicants.”

At this period, the Dublin society, with the exception of that in London, was the largest in the world, containing upwards of eleven hundred members, being more than there were in the whole of the five Dublin circuits in 1870!

Having spent ten days in Dublin, he set out for the provinces. It would be, substantially, a reiteration of former narratives, to follow him in his wanderings. He met with no persecution; but, on the contrary, with the warmest welcomes. Almost everywhere the work of God was prospering; and the people vied with each other to show him kindness. He writes: “May 29—The old murderer is restrained from hurting me; but it seems he has power over my horses. One of them I was obliged to leave in Dublin, and afterwards another, having bought two to supply their places; the third soon got an ugly swelling in his shoulders, so that we doubted whether we could go on; and a boy at Clones, riding, I suppose galloping, the fourth over stones, the horse fell and nearly lamed himself.” Perhaps Wesley blamed the devil when he ought to have blamed his own long journeys.

It was in one of these Irish tours that, preaching at a certain place in the afternoon, and being expected, in the evening, at a town several miles distant, he desired his chaise to be ready at the close of the service, so that he might start at once. As he left the chapel, the people, as usual, crowded about him, to shake hands with him; among others, a Methodist shoemaker pressed forward, and put into his hand a brown paper parcel, saying with manifest emotion: “Sir, this may be of use to you in your journey.” Wesley thanked him, put the parcel into his pocket, and away he went. After travelling some distance, his curiosity prompted him to examine the nature of Crispin’s present, which he found to be an awl and a strong waxed thread. The road was rugged and lonely; and after a sudden jerk, the horses stopped. “What’s the matter?” asked Wesley. “Matter enough!” replied the coachman; “one of the traces is broken, and we can’t go on.” Wesley bethought him of his awl and thread; they were at once produced; the trace was mended; and so, by the poor shoemaker’s gift, the congregation was saved from being disappointed of their preacher, and Wesley from a tiresome detention in a houseless neighbourhood.⁠[570]

Wesley got back to Dublin on the 21st of June, having preached considerably more than a hundred times during his ten weeks’ tour. A week later, on his birthday, June 28, he wrote: “I had the pleasure of a conversation with Mr. Howard, I think one of the greatest men in Europe. Nothing, but the mighty power of God, can enable him to go through his difficult and dangerous employments.”

The great philanthropist was as much pleased with Wesley, as Wesley was with him. “I was encouraged by him,” said he to Alexander Knox, Esq., “to go on vigorously with my own designs. I saw in him how much a single man might achieve by zeal and perseverance; and I thought, why may not I do as much in my way, as Mr. Wesley has done in his, if I am only as assiduous and persevering? and I determined I would pursue my work with more alacrity than ever.”⁠[571]

Howard, in early life, had heard Wesley preach, in Bedfordshire, and was deeply impressed with his discourse. In 1789, he called at Wesley’s house, in London, to present him with his latest publication, “An Account of the Principal Lazarettos in Europe,” in quarto; but Wesley was not at home. “Present,” said he, “my respects and love to Mr. Wesley; tell him, I had hoped to have seen him once more: perhaps, we may meet again in this world, but, if not, we shall meet I trust in a better.”⁠[572] And away he went on his mission of mercy to Russia, where he fell an honoured victim to his benevolence, on January 20, 1790.

Having held his Irish conference, Wesley preached his farewell sermon, in Dublin, on the 11th of July; and arriving in England on the 12th, he proceeded to Manchester, in the neighbourhood of which he continued until August 6. Here he held his English conference, though, in his journal, he never mentions it. The preachers were specially invited; but, on what principle the invitations were given, it is difficult to state. Thomas Taylor was assistant at Leeds, within fifty miles of Manchester, and moreover was one of the hundred mentioned in Wesley’s deed of declaration; but he was also in favour of the Methodists having the sacraments from the hands of their own preachers; in other words, he was in favour of separation from the Established Church; and, perhaps, this was one of the reasons why he was not invited to the conference at Manchester. At all events, he writes:

Mr. Taylor’s complaint was not without reason. He went; but says, he had little satisfaction, for much of the time was spent in trying to supersede the hymn-book published by Robert Spence.⁠[573]

The original edition of the minutes of the Manchester conference is now before us, 12mo, 20 pages; but there is not a single syllable on what was the great question of the day, separation from the Church. And yet this was a question again and again introduced. Two years before, Wesley had ordained Pawson for Scotland, and, ever since, had addressed him as “reverend,” Pawson wearing gown and bands, and administering the sacraments to the Scottish Methodists. Now that Pawson was brought back to England, he had to doff his canonicals, and had his letters from Wesley inscribed with “Mr.,” instead of “Rev.” He loudly remonstrated; but got no redress; and at length, like a good Christian, more anxious to save souls than to wear sacerdotal robes, submitted to obey orders which were strangely inconsistent with Wesley’s ordaining acts, and went on his way rejoicing. Pawson writes as follows, to his bosom friend, Charles Atmore.

This was pretty strong to come from a man like Pawson; but it furnishes a glimpse of the proceedings of the conference of 1787, concerning which so little has been written, and shows the awkward position into which Wesley had put himself by his ordinations of men from whom he now withdrew the authority that he had previously given.

Never, however, had Methodism been so prosperous as now. The increase of members, in the United Kingdom, during the present year, was nearly four thousand; and in America, 6849. Letters, dated August, 1787, contain most marvellous intelligence. It was computed that, in Brunswick county, Virginia, not fewer than seven thousand persons were under deep conviction of their sin and danger; and as many as fifty in a day were savingly converted. At a recent quarterly meeting, six thousand were assembled, and hundreds were crying for mercy, including some of the principal inhabitants of the land, and not a few who had been persecutors.⁠[576]

The Manchester conference concluded on Saturday, August 4, and, on the following day, besides meeting the select society, Wesley preached twice, and, with the assistance of his brother clergymen, administered the sacrament to twelve or thirteen hundred communicants. There are two other incidents, in connection with this conference, too interesting to be omitted.

At this period, the grandfather of the present Sir Robert Peel was thirty-seven years of age, and one of the most successful men in Lancashire. The leisure of his youthful days had been spent in reading and study, and, before he attained to his majority, a great portion of his time had been devoted to the improvement of machinery. At the age of twenty-three, he embarked in the cotton trade, and, by his industry and perseverance, had already become a man of wealth, though his riches fell immensely short of the two millions which, it is said, he left behind him at his death in 1830. Wesley writes: “1787, July 27—I was invited to breakfast at Bury, by Mr. Peel, a calico printer; who, a few years ago, began with £500, and is now supposed to have gained £50,000. Oh, what a miracle if he lose not his soul!” The invitation was accepted, and, long after this, when the calico printer had become a baronet, and had entered parliament, Wesley’s visit was one of the pleasing reminiscences of his remarkable career. To the end of life, he cherished a warm affection for the Methodists. “My lads,” said he, when some of his Methodist workmen applied to him for the site of Tamworth chapel,⁠[577] “My lads, do not build your chapel too large, for people like to go to a little chapel well filled better than to a larger one comparatively empty. I often go to your chapels in Manchester, Liverpool, and London, and have no wish to find myself alone in a large pew, and pointed at as Sir Robert Peel. I have left most of my works in Lancashire under the management of Methodists, and they serve me excellently well. When I resided there, I asked Mr. Wesley, at one of his conferences, to come and breakfast with me; and he agreed, on condition that he might bring some of his children with him. Of course, I consented, and he came accompanied by six-and-thirty of his itinerant preachers.” This was a curious episode in the history both of Wesley and the founder of the distinguished family that bears his name.

No man in the nation took a greater interest in the institution of Sunday-schools than Wesley. “I am glad,” said he, to Richard Rodda, in a letter dated January 17, 1787, “I am glad you have taken in hand that blessed work of setting up Sunday-schools in Chester. It seems, these will be one great means of reviving religion throughout the nation. I wonder Satan has not sent out some able champion against them.”⁠[578]

It was three years since Raikes had first called attention to the importance of Sunday-schools in the Gloucester Journal; and already these “nurseries for Christians” had begun to dot and to adorn the country. That at Chester altogether originated with the Chester Methodists, though the rules were submitted to the bishop of the diocese, and had his entire approval. It contained nearly seven hundred children, who were taken to church once every Sunday. “We had no intention,” said Richard Rodda, “as some persons represented, to make disciples to Methodism, but to train them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, that they might become useful members of civil and religious society.”⁠[579]

Some idea may be formed of the popularity of this new institution of the Christian church, from the fact that, in 1785, a Sunday-school society was formed, which, within two years, was the means of establishing more than two hundred schools; and that it was calculated, in 1787, that the number of children then taught in Sunday-schools exceeded two hundred thousand.⁠[580]

As already stated, more than once, there were a few which existed long before Raikes’ school at Gloucester,—as, for instance, Miss Hannah Ball’s, at Wycombe, founded in 1769. There was also another at Little Lever, the birthplace of Oliver Heywood, four miles from Bolton, in Lancashire. Here James Hey resided, a poor man who obtained a living by winding bobbins for weavers. About the year 1775, James got the use of a room in a cottage, to which, twice every Sunday, he summoned the boys and girls of the neighbourhood, to teach them reading, his substitute for a bell being an old brass mortar and pestle. Mr. Adam Crompton, the paper manufacturer, sent him a supply of books; three branch establishments were formed; subscriptions were given; and a shilling per Sunday paid to each teacher for his Sunday services.⁠[581]

In June 1785, a Methodist school was started in the old Ridgway Gates chapel, Bolton, chiefly through the instrumentality of George Eskrick, who was its principal manager as long as he lived. One of the scholars present, the first Sunday, was Peter Haslam, eleven years of age, afterwards a most devout and useful itinerant preacher,⁠[582]—the first fruits of others who, in the same institution, received their first trainings for the Christian ministry. In the course of a few years, the number of scholars, attending the Bolton Sunday-school, was 2,000; and the average number, for the first thirty years of its existence, was 1800.⁠[583] Children came to it, several miles, from all the country round about. Reading and writing were taught. Each class was spoken to separately every Sunday on religious subjects. The masters were devoted to their work, and all gave their services gratuitously. The change in the manners and morals of the children was marvellous; and about a hundred of them sang like seraphs.⁠[584] No wonder, that such a school attracted the attention of Wesley. Hence, on the very day when he and six-and-thirty of his itinerants breakfasted with the father of the Peels, he wrote:

This was not bounce, nor was it the random garrulity of an aged man. Nine months afterwards, Wesley came again, and wrote:

Good singing is a good thing, and, like most other good things, is far from being common. Had this been the only result of Bolton Sunday-school, the school would have existed to good purpose. But hear Wesley’s description, written “Sunday, April 20, 1788,” and let Methodist Sunday-school teachers now conscientiously and diligently endeavour to make their establishments resemble that at Bolton then.

We have already stated that, the day after Wesley closed his conference at Manchester, he preached twice, and, assisted by others, administered the Lord’s supper to twelve or thirteen hundred persons. The next day, August 6, he secured the whole of the coach, that ran between Manchester and Birmingham, for himself and his friends. Six packed themselves within, and eight arranged themselves without, and off they all set at midnight; but even the presence of fourteen Methodist preachers was not an insurance against accident. No doubt, many a hymn was sung as they whisked away through beautiful Cheshire scenery, the stars shining approvingly, and the fields all round wrapped in solemn silence; but, a little before three in the morning, when approaching Congleton, the coach broke down beneath its unwonted burden, and had to be abandoned for another. In about an hour, number two was crippled like number one; while one of the horses was so knocked up as to be scarcely able to go at all. This Methodist monopoly of the Birmingham stage coach issued, not in a moonlight pleasure trip, but in a series of disasters which men so pious and so good had not expected. The distance was not great; but nineteen hours were spent in getting over it. The party arrived at Birmingham at 7 p.m.; Wesley found a congregation waiting; he stepped out of the coach into the chapel, and began preaching without delay. “And such,” says he, “was the goodness of God, that I found no more weariness when I had done than if I had rested all the day.”

This was marvellous, in the case of an old man, above eighty; but, notwithstanding this, he was off again, before five o’clock next morning; travelled nearly eleven hours; and, at night, preached in the new chapel at Gloucester. But even this was not all. The morning after, he set out again at two o’clock, travelled till half-past four in the afternoon, and preached at Salisbury in the evening. Next morning at four, he took chaise to Southampton, where, on August 9 and 10, he preached thrice.

Here the Methodists worshipped in an auction room; and then in a loft, used by a bricklayer in stowing away his scaffolding, and which acquired imperishable fame as the spiritual birthplace of Elizabeth Wallbridge, the “Dairyman’s Daughter.”⁠[585]

Wesley, accompanied by Dr. Coke and Joseph Bradford, was now on his way to the Channel islands; where Methodism had been introduced as early as the year 1783, by certain Methodist soldiers, who wrote to England for a preacher. Robert Carr Brackenbury, a gentleman of fortune, rented a house in the town of St. Heliers, Jersey; and he and his attendant, Alexander Kilham, preached throughout the island, amid violent persecution, but with great success.⁠[586] At the conference of 1786, Adam Clarke was sent; and now there were, in the three islands of Jersey, Guernsey, and Alderney, Methodist societies containing three hundred members.

On Saturday, August 11, Wesley and his friends started from Southampton for Guernsey, but, before the day was ended, had to put into Yarmouth harbour, in the Isle of Wight, where they were detained till Monday, but improved their detention by preaching four times in the market house. On Monday the storm had abated, and they again set out; but, in the afternoon, were glad to seek shelter at Swanage, where Wesley found a small society, and preached in the presbyterian chapel. Again they went on board, and hoped to reach Guernsey on Tuesday afternoon; but the storm obliged them to steer for the isle of Alderney, in the bay of which they narrowly escaped being dashed to pieces. Having slept in a five bedded room, and preached upon the beach, they again set sail for Guernsey, where they at last arrived, and were warmly welcomed by Mr. De Jersey. Here five days were spent, during which Wesley preached seven sermons, and dined at the governor’s.

On Monday, August 20, they landed in Jersey, where they were detained by storms and hurricanes till the 28th. During the eight days, Wesley preached a dozen sermons, Mr. Brackenbury acting as his interpreter.

On the 28th, he returned to Guernsey, where, by stress of weather, he was obliged to stay till September 6, but still employed himself as actively as ever. He then sailed for Penzance, in Cornwall, and arrived in safety.

Wesley’s labours in the Channel islands were greatly blessed; but his voyages were adventurous, and, more than once, extremely dangerous. They were also rich in religious incidents. On one occasion, two of the sailors, who were aloft, swore most dreadfully; and, greatly to the surprise of his companions, Wesley seemed not to notice them. At length, the sailors still swearing, Wesley looked up to them, and said: “Swear louder, and then perhaps God Almighty will hear you.” The ironical reproof stopped the blasphemy.⁠[587]

Another incident is worth relating. Wesley writes in his journal: “September 6—We went on board with a fair, moderate wind; but we had just entered the ship when the wind died away. We cried to God for help; and it presently sprung up, exactly fair, and did not cease till it brought us into Penzance bay.” This is all; but Adam Clarke, who was present, gives further details. Wesley was reading in the cabin; but, hearing the noise and bustle occasioned by putting about the vessel, to stand on her different tacks, he looked out of the cabin door, and asked what was matter. Being told, he quietly remarked, “Then let us go to prayer.” Coke, Bradford, and Clarke having prayed, Wesley began: “Almighty and everlasting God, Thou hast sway everywhere, and all things serve the purposes of Thy will: Thou holdest the winds in Thy hands, and sittest upon the waterfloods, and reignest a King for ever: command these winds and these waves that they obey Thee; and take us speedily and safely to the haven whither we would be!” The power of his petition was felt by all: he rose from his knees, made no remark, and resumed his reading. Clarke went on deck, and, to his surprise, found the vessel standing her right course, with a steady breeze, which brought them safe to Cornwall.⁠[588]

Wesley was more than satisfied with his trip to these lovely islands. “Here,” says he, “is an open door: high and low, rich and poor, receive the word gladly; so that I could not regret being detained by contrary winds several days longer than we intended.”⁠[589]

Wesley’s landing in Cornwall was unexpected, but not unwelcome. He writes: “We appeared to our friends here as men risen from the dead. Great was their rejoicing over us; and great was the power of God in the midst of the congregation.” On Saturday, September 8, he preached twice, out of doors, to large congregations; and, the day following, thrice, besides meeting a society in a chapel “exactly round, and composed wholly of brazen slags, which,” says Wesley, “I suppose will last as long as the earth.”

On September 14, he got to Bristol, where he spent the next three weeks. First of all, “with the assistance of two of his friends, he had to answer abundance of letters,” the accumulation of the last five weeks. Then, he had to visit the “country societies” round about, and, among others, that at Castle Carey, where the mob had thrown the first preacher, that visited the place, into a horse pond. On October 8, he returned to London, where he employed the next few days “in answering letters, and preparing matter for the magazine.” One or two of the letters, belonging to this period, may be inserted here.

The first was addressed to William Black, in Nova Scotia, who was considerably troubled with a recent importation from Scotland, in the form of a presbyterian minister, who was more a Socinian than a Calvinist.

The next has not before been published. Jonathan Crowther and Duncan McAllum had been appointed to succeed Edward Burbeck and Joshua Keighley, in Scotland. On arriving, they found the former “dying of fever in a lousy bed”; and the latter already dead and buried. Their journey had been adventurous and dangerous; their circuit (Inverness) was large; and their allowances next to nothing; for Crowther received only fifty shillings for the whole year’s labour; and forty of these he spent in removing to Dunbar. He wrote to Wesley: “No man is fit for Inverness circuit, unless his flesh be brass, his bones iron, and his heart harder than a stoic’s.” After giving an account of the death of Burbeck and Keighley, he adds: “I too shall probably be sacrificed in this miserable corner; and, if I were doing good, I should be content (if I had them) to sacrifice seven lives every year; but to live in misery, and to die in banishment, for next to nothing, is afflicting indeed.”⁠[591]

Poor Crowther was downhearted, and no wonder. Wesley’s reply was characteristic.

The next two letters refer to a case of discipline in the Channel islands, in which Wesley displayed greater liberality than some of his itinerants. The first was written to Robert Carr Brackenbury, the second to Adam Clarke.