Age 86
Wesley wrote:
“January 1, 1789—If this is to be the last year of my life, according to some of those prophecies, I hope it will be the best. I am not careful about it, but heartily receive the advice of the angel in Milton,—
‘How well is thine; how long, permit to Heaven.’
“January 5—I once more sat for my picture. Mr. Romney is a painter indeed. He struck off an exact likeness at once; and did more in an hour than Sir Joshua did in ten.[666]
“January 9—I left no money to anyone in my will, because I had none. But now, considering that, whenever I am removed, money will soon arise by sale of books, I added a few legacies by a codicil, to be paid as soon as may be. But I would fain do a little good while I live; for who can tell what will come after him?”
“January 11—I again warned the congregation, as strongly as I could, against conformity to the world. But who will take the warning? If hardly one in ten, yet is my record with the Most High.”
“January 20—I retired in order to finish my year’s accounts. If possible, I must be a better economist; for, instead of having anything beforehand, I am now considerably in debt; but this I do not like. I would fain settle even my accounts before I die.”
It was at this period that the following unpublished letter was written. Duncan McAllum had been ordained by Wesley in 1787, and the reader will observe that, instead of addressing him as he addressed his preachers in general, he gives him the title of “reverend.”
“London, January 20, 1789.
“Dear Duncan,—By all means choose trustees without delay; and let them be such as belong to the circuit; only such as you can depend upon, both for judgment and honesty. I think it is by prayer that you must alter the purpose of the Earl of Findlater. I am not at all surprised at the behaviour of John Atlay. In a year or two, he will find whether he has changed for the better. He was the first occasion of the division at Dewsbury, by sending word to the trustees, that, if the conference would not supply them with preachers, he would come himself, and settle among them.
“I am, with love to sister McAllum, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.
“To the Rev. Mr. McAllum, Inverness.”
Four days later, he wrote as follows to Freeborn Garretson, in America.
“London, January 24, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—It signifies but little where we are, so we are but fully employed for our good Master. Whether you went, therefore, to the east, it is all one, so you were labouring to promote His work. You are following the order of His providence, wherever it appeared, as a holy man expressed it, in a kind of holy disordered order. But there is one expression, that occurs twice or thrice in yours, which gives me some concern: you speak of finding freedom to do this or that. This is a word much liable to be abused. If I have plain Scripture, or plain reason, for doing a thing,—well. These are my rules, and my only rules. I regard not whether I had freedom or no. This is an unscriptural expression, and a very fallacious rule. I wish to be in every point, great and small, a scriptural, rational Christian.
“I am, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”[667]
At the end of January, Wesley went to open new chapels at Rye and Winchelsea. Returning to London, the month of February was spent in preaching, in writing, in meeting classes and the local preachers, and in ordaining Henry Moore and Thomas Rankin, the last of his preachers upon whom he laid his hands.[668]
The following anecdotes, related in the Life of Moore, belong to the present year, and are strikingly characteristic of Wesley and his friends.
One of the leading men, in the London circuit, (though not a member,) had been in the habit of receiving the sacrament from the hands of Wesley and his brother clergymen, but had fallen into sin. Henry Moore waited upon him for an explanation of his conduct, and, not being satisfied, told him he should be obliged to refuse him a note of admission to the Lord’s supper. The gentleman was annoyed, and went to one of Wesley’s clergy, whom he persuaded to apply to Wesley on his behalf. Entering the vestry while Wesley was writing the note, Moore with his honest sternness accosted him: “Sir, do you mean to give a note of admission to Mr. ——?” “Yes, Henry,” replied Wesley, “I have reason to believe the report of his conduct is a mistake.” “I have fully examined it,” answered Moore, “and I find it no mistake; and, if you give him a note, I shall not take the sacrament myself.” Wesley, in reply, observed, “I would take the sacrament if the devil himself were there.” “So would I,” said Moore, “but not if you gave him a note of admission.” The Irishman came off with flying colours; for Wesley put the note into the fire, and left the erring one to think and to repent.
Mrs. Hall was Wesley’s only surviving sister, and was an inmate of his house, but not a Methodist. One day, the two called on Henry Moore. “Brother,” said Mrs. Hall, “I should like to attend the religious meetings of your people. Have I your leave?” “O yes,” said he, “you may go to them.” “Then,” rejoined this friend of the great Dr. Johnson, “having your permission, I shall not ask that of any one else.” “Yes, you must;” replied her brother, remembering that Moore was circuit assistant, “when I am not here, you must ask leave of Henry Moore.”
In these days, it was customary for the itinerant and local preachers to take breakfast together, on Sunday mornings, at City Road. On one occasion, when Wesley was present, a young man rose and found fault with one of his seniors. The Scotch blood of Thomas Rankin was roused, and he sharply rebuked the juvenile for his impertinence; but, in turn, was as sharply rebuked himself. Wesley instantly replied: “I will thank the youngest man among you to tell me of any fault you see in me; in doing so, I shall consider him as my best friend.” This was quite enough to silence Rankin.
“Henry Moore,” said Wesley, “you are a witness that what John Atlay said, when he left us, is untrue. He said, ‘Mr. Wesley could never bear a man who contradicted him.’ Now no man in England has contradicted me as much as you have done; and yet, Henry, I love you still. You are right.”
Hundreds of such anecdotes might be given: these must serve as specimens.
On Sunday, the 1st of March, after preaching to two crowded congregations, in City Road, Wesley and three of his preachers took coach for Bath; and “spent,” says he, “a comfortable night, partly in sound sleep, and partly in singing praise to God.” Such, after a hard day, at seven o’clock in a winter’s night, was the start of an old man of eighty-six, on a five months’ preaching tour!
At Bath and Bristol, he spent a fortnight, in preaching and meeting classes, and then set out for Ireland. On the way, he preached at Stroud, Gloucester, and Tewkesbury. At Birmingham, he opened a new chapel, and remarks: “Saturday, March 21—I had a day of rest, only preaching morning and evening.” The passage from Holyhead, instead of occupying four hours, as at present, occupied thirty-six, and, during it, the venerable voyager was a serious sufferer. “I do not remember,” he writes, “that I was ever so sick at sea before; but this was little to the cramp which held most of the night with little intermission.” He arrived at Dublin quay at eight on Sunday morning, and, notwithstanding the illness from which he had suffered, went direct to Dublin chapel, and “preached on the sickness and recovery of King Hezekiah and King George,” and afterwards administered the sacrament to about five hundred people.
At this sacramental service, he employed his assistant, William Myles, in giving the cup to the communicants; an act which occasioned huge offence, for William Myles was not ordained. In the week following, a long paragraph appeared in the Dublin Evening Post, setting forth, that “the Church was in danger! and calling upon the archbishop to use his authority; for a Mr. William Myles, a layman, had assisted Mr. Wesley in administering the Lord’s supper; the greatest innovation that had been witnessed for the last fifty years!” “This brought on,” says Mr. Myles, “a newspaper controversy, which continued for three months. My name was bandied about to some purpose; but I endeavoured in patience to possess my soul. At the expiration of the three months, the subscribers desired the printer to put no more Methodist nonsense into his paper; and he had the good sense to listen to the requisition of his customers, which happily terminated this exquisitely silly controversy.”[669]
On Wesley’s arrival at Dublin, he had, to use his own expression, “letter upon letter,” concerning the alteration in the Sunday service, which had been introduced by Dr. Coke; and, hence, he addressed the following.
“To certain Persons in Dublin.
“Whitefriar Street, Dublin, March 31, 1789.
“My dear Brethren,—I much approve of the manner and spirit wherein you write concerning these tender points. I explained myself upon them, in some measure, on Sunday: I will do it more fully now.
“At present, I have nothing to do with Dr. Coke: but I answer for myself. I do not separate from the Church, nor have any intention so to do. Neither do they, that meet on Sunday noon, separate from the Church, any more than they did before: nay, less; for they attend the church and sacrament oftener now than they did two years ago.
“‘But this occasions much strife.’ True; but they make the strife who do not attend the service. Let them quietly either come or stay away, and there will be no strife at all.
“‘But those that attend say, those that do not are fallen from grace.’ No, they do not give them a bad word; but they surely will fall from grace, if they do not let them alone who follow their own consciences.
“But you ‘fear this will make way for a total separation from the Church.’ You have no ground for this fear. There can be no such separation while I live. Leave to God what may come after.
“But, to speak plainly, do not you separate from the Church? Yea, much more than those you blame? Pray, how often have you been at church since Christmas? Twelve times in twelve weeks? And how long have you been so fond of the Church? Are you fond of it at all? Do not you go oftener to a Dissenting meeting than either to St. Patrick’s, or your parish church?
“My dear brethren, you and I have but a short time to stay together. ‘My race of glory is run, and race of shame; and I shall shortly be with those that rest.’ Therefore, as one that loves you well, and has loved you long, I advise you, in the presence and in the fear of God: (1) Either quietly attend the Sunday service, or quietly refrain from it; then there will be no strife at all. Now you make the strife of which you complain. (2) Make not this a pretence for being weary of well doing. Do not, for so poor a reason, withdraw your subscription from the school or the preachers. What a miserable revenge would this be! Never let it be said, that my friend A—— K——, that brother D——, or B——, were capable of this. From this hour, let this idle strife be buried in eternal oblivion. Talk not of it any more. If it be possible, think not of it any more. Rather think, ‘the Judge standeth at the door;’ let us prepare to meet our God!
“John Wesley.”[670]
Such was Wesley’s attempt to defend the Dublin Methodist service in church hours; or rather, such was his attack on those who were opposed to it. No doubt his accusations were founded upon facts; but this was hardly an answer to the argument of objectors, that having service in church hours was, ipso facto, separation from the Church. He tells us, that one consequence of Dr. Coke’s new arrangement was, that three times more Methodists now went to St. Patrick’s, on the first Sunday in every month, than had done for ten or twenty years before; and that, on the first Sunday of April, when he went himself, many of them went with him; the number of communicants being about five hundred, or, in other words, more communicants, on that single Sunday, than St. Patrick’s used to have the whole year round, before the Methodists were known in Ireland. The arrangement, says Wesley, that the Methodists in Dublin should have service in church hours, “on condition that they would attend St. Patrick’s every first Sunday in the month, was made, not to prepare for, but to prevent, a separation from the Church.” There can be no question, that this was Wesley’s wish; but it may be doubted whether it was Dr. Coke’s intention.
During this Dublin fracas, Wesley sent, at least, one letter to the public papers. The following is an extract.
“To the Printer of the ‘Dublin Chronicle.’
“Londonderry, June 2, 1789.
“Sir,—As soon as I was gone from Dublin, the Observer came forth, only with his face covered. Afterwards, he came out, under another name, and made a silly defence for me, that he might have the honour of answering it. His words are smoother than oil, and flow (who can doubt it?) from mere love both to me and the people.
“But what does this smooth, candid writer endeavour to prove, with all the softness and good humour imaginable? Only this point, (to explain it in plain English,) that I am a double tongued knave, an old crafty hypocrite, who have used religion merely for a cloak, and have worn a mask for these fifty years, saying one thing and meaning another. A bold charge this, only it happens that matter of fact contradicts it from beginning to end.”
Wesley then proceeds to give an outline of his history from his youth to the time when he took the French churches in West Street, Seven Dials, and in Spitalfields, and he and his brother began to preach in them in church hours; and states that the two archbishops of Canterbury, Potter and Secker, and the two bishops of London, Gibson and Lowth, never blamed them for this, or thought or called it separation from the Church; only, on one occasion, Archbishop Potter said: “These gentlemen are irregular; but they have done good, and I pray God to bless them.” Wesley continues:
“It may be observed that, all this time, if my brother or I were ill, I desired one of our other preachers, though not ordained, to preach in either of the chapels, after reading part of the Church prayers. This both my brother and I judged would endear the Church prayers to them, whereas, if they were used wholly to extemporary prayer, they would naturally contract a kind of contempt, if not aversion, to forms of prayer; so careful were we, from the beginning, to prevent their leaving the Church.
“When the Rev. Mr. Edward Smyth came to live in Dublin, he earnestly advised me to leave the Church; meaning thereby, (as all sensible men do,) to renounce all connection with it, to attend the services of it no more, and to advise all our societies to take the same steps. I judged this to be a matter of great importance, and would, therefore, do nothing hastily; but referred it to the body of preachers, then met in conference. We had several meetings, in which he proposed all his reasons for it at large. They were severally considered, and answered, and we all determined not to leave the Church.
“A year ago, Dr. Coke began officiating at our chapel in Dublin. This was no more than had been done in London for between forty and fifty years. Some persons immediately began to cry out, ‘This is leaving the Church, which Mr. Wesley has continually declared he would never do.’ And I declare so still. But I appeal to all the world, I appeal to common sense, I appeal to the Observer himself, could I mean hereby, ‘I will not have service in church hours’? No; but I denied, and do deny still, that this is leaving the Church, either in the sense of Bishop Gibson, or of Mr. Smyth at the Dublin conference. Yet, by this outcry, many well meaning people were frighted well-nigh out of their senses.
“‘But see the consequence of having Sunday service here! See the confusion this occasioned!’ Some time since, while a popular preacher was preaching at Leeds, one cried out, ‘Fire! Fire!’ The people took fright, some leaped over the gallery, and several legs and arms were broken. But upon whom were these consequences to be charged? Not on the preacher, but on him that made the outcry. Apply this to the present case. I have kindled no more fire in Dublin than I did in London. It is the Observer and a few other mischief makers, who fright the people out of their senses; and they must answer to God for the consequence.
“This is my answer to them that trouble me, and will not let my grey hairs go down to the grave in peace. I am not a man of duplicity; I am not an old hypocrite, a double tongued knave. More than forty years, I have frequented Ireland. I have wished to do some good here. I now tell a plain tale, that ‘the good that is in me may not be evil spoken of.’ I have no temporal end to serve. I seek not the honour that cometh of men. It is not for pleasure, that, at this time of life, I travel three or four thousand miles a year. It is not for gain.
“John Wesley.
“P.S. At the desire of a friend, I add a few words in answer to one or two other objections.
“First. When I said, ‘I believe I am a scriptural bishop,’ I spoke on Lord King’s supposition, that bishops and presbyters are essentially one order.
“Secondly. I did desire Mr. Myles to assist me in delivering the cup. Now, be this right or wrong, how does it prove the point now in question, that I leave the Church? I ask (2) What law of the Church forbids this? And (3) What law of the primitive church? Did not the priest in the primitive church send both the bread and wine to the sick by whom he pleased, though not ordained at all?
“Thirdly. The Observer affirms, ‘To say you will not leave the church, meaning thereby all true believers in England, is trifling.’ Certainly; but I do not mean so when I say, ‘I will not leave the Church.’ I mean, unless I see more reason for it than I ever yet saw, I will not leave the Church of England as by law established, while the breath of God is in my nostrils.”[671]
Such was Wesley’s manifesto in 1789; in reality, a defence of a thing he had often condemned,—Methodist service in church hours.
While Wesley was thus attacked in the public press, he met with the greatest respect and attention from several persons of distinguished rank in Dublin and its environs; the Earl of Moira among the number. “They seemed,” says Mr. Myles, “to think it a blessing to have him beneath their roof.”[672] Many of them flocked to hear him, on Good Friday, when he preached, morning and evening, in the elegant chapel of his old clerical dissenting friend, the Rev. Edward Smyth. Neither grand people, however, nor grand chapels, were at all prized by Wesley, except as they furnished opportunities of Christian usefulness. “At both times on Good Friday,” says he, “we had a brilliant congregation, among whom were honourable and right honourable persons; but I felt they were all given into my hands; for God was in the midst. What a mercy it is, what a marvellous condescension in God, to provide such places as Bethesda, and Lady Huntingdon’s chapels, for these delicate hearers, who could not bear sound doctrine if it were not set off with these pretty trifles!”
Dublin was not the only place which, at this time, gave Wesley trouble. The Dewsbury circuit was entirely wrested by his traitorous book steward; and now, the same rebellion against giving Wesley, and (after his death) Wesley’s conference, the sole power to appoint preachers, was showing itself at Shields. Hence the following, addressed to the three itinerant preachers stationed in the Newcastle circuit.
“Dublin, April 11, 1789.
“I require you three, Peter Mill, Joseph Thompson, and John Stamp, without consulting or regarding any person whatever, to require a positive answer of Edward Coats, within three weeks after the receipt of this, ‘Will you, or will you not, settle the house at Milburn Place, North Shields, on the Methodist plan?’ If he will not do it within another week, I farther require that none of you preach in that house, unless you will renounce all connection with your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.
“I am at a point. I will be trifled with no longer.”[673]
Was this more hasty than wise? John Pawson seemed to think so. The following is taken from one of his unpublished letters, to Charles Atmore, dated “Leeds, May 9, 1789.”
“What a pity it is that Mr. Wesley will pursue these violent measures! If he goes thus, there will be divisions upon divisions among us. Mr. Hanby informs me, that, at North and South Shields, and at Alnwick, they refuse to settle their houses upon the conference plan; and, at Newcastle, they have been talking of building a chapel for the Rev. Mr. Collins, and of inviting some of the best preachers to settle among them, and make a circuit by themselves. I suppose Mr. Sagar would tell you, they had strange commotions among them when he was there.”
But even this was not all. In 1785, Wesley ordained John Pawson and Thomas Hanby for Scotland; where, for two years, they had administered the sacraments, and had preached in gown and bands. In 1787, as already stated, he brought them back to England, commanded them to doff their canonicals, and, being in England, to discontinue their sacramental services. This, to Pawson, was exceedingly annoying; but he hardly had the pluck of Hanby in resisting it. Hanby and Joseph Taylor, (who had also been ordained, and was in the same dubious position,) were now stationed in the Nottingham circuit; and many of the Methodists, aware of their ordination, naturally wished them to administer to them the Christian ordinances; but this Wesley imperiously prohibited. Taylor yielded; Hanby persisted. The following extracts, from two of his unprinted letters, will be read with interest. The first was addressed to James Oddie; the second to Richard Rodda.
“Grantham, May 21, 1789.
“My very dear Brother,—I have been in deep waters on account of my administering the Lord’s supper, which I think it my duty to do, especially to those who, for conscience sake, cannot go to church. Mr. Wesley ordered me to desist. I told him, if I did, I should sin, because I was persuaded it was my duty. Then he instructed the London clergy and preachers to take me in hand. I have received their letter, and have replied, that I must still do as I have done; and that, if Mr. Wesley has given me up into their hands, they must act according to their own judgment; for what I was now doing was from a Divine conviction of my duty. Thus the matter rests. For some time, I have expected another preacher to take my place; but, as he has not come, perhaps, they will refer the matter to conference. Mr. Wesley has ordered Joseph Taylor, (who opposes me all he can,) to remove the leaders who have promoted the sacraments; if he does so, I expect there will be a division.
“See, my brother, my situation. I am much afraid of myself, lest I should defile my conscience by yielding to the importunity of the preachers. I am of all others the most improper person to make a stand in defence of Christ’s precious and most neglected ordinance. However, hitherto, through infinite mercy, I have been firm and immovable; and our solemnities are much owned of God; and I have much employment in the sacred service. I meet with great opposition from the high church bigots; but yet there are many, who will stand by me, let the consequence be what it will.
“Let me hear from you soon; and advise your very affectionate friend and brother,
“Thomas Hanby.”
“Plumtree, June 4, 1789.
“My dear Friend,—O yes! my sin is not to be forgiven unless I repent, which I cannot do. That is too late, because I cannot seek it with tears. Mr. Wesley has declared, that he will exclude the preachers who administer the Lord’s supper in England. For some time, I have expected to be unshipped; but whether hands are scarce, or I am to be permitted to finish my voyage, which will be the last week in July, I cannot tell.
“I came under no such obligations to Mr. Wesley, not to administer in England. If this prohibition had been laid upon me, I hope I should have refused his offer of nothing. I am in the fire, but, like the salamander, I live there. I am up to the chin in deep waters; but not drowned. Mr. Mather sent me a threatening bull; Mr. Wesley a second; and, to complete the work, the clergy in London, Mr. Rankin and Mr. Moore, joined their artillery. The last in command is my colleague, Joseph Taylor, who opposes me with the utmost warmth. You will readily conclude, ‘Poor Hanby will be overpowered by numbers.’ True; but I still keep the field, for all that, and mean to die there. I am single handed, for my brethren, who promised to support me, have deserted to the strongest party, not an unusual case. I grant, that those who are called to preach have an equal right to administer; but do not talk of ‘depreciating ordination.’ Mr. Wesley did that, seven years ago, when he published in the newspapers those who had presumed to be ordained by the Greek bishop. I expect, he will depreciate me, though he himself ordained me, and commanded me to administer the ordinances in the church of God.
“When the great opposition against the sacraments was formed, Mr. Taylor had administered once; and I had promised to do so in two other places; and when my engagements were fulfilled, I proposed to desist from proceeding further, (as he had done,) for I saw there was no withstanding so formidable a body. However, I was brought into deep distress of mind, by the earnest request of the people, who had not communicated for years, and who would not communicate with drinking, whoring, swearing, and fighting parsons. The Lord let me see that His ordinance was become obsolete, and that it was an unreasonable stretch of power, in any human creature, to say, ‘If you will not communicate with these wicked men, you shall not communicate at all.’ This appeared to me as an abrogation of Christ’s commanded ordinance, for which no one, either man or angel, had authority. I saw it was my duty to stand forth in defence of this ordinance, and to suffer for it; for suffer I am sure to do. Mr. Wesley, for many years, has treated me contemptuously, putting me beneath the weakest and most suspicious characters, (viz. Briscoe and Fenwick,) and, therefore, I expect no favour in that quarter.
“I begin to look out for some poor cottage, to which I may retire, and wait the opening of Providence. ‘Vox populi vox Dei,’ is my motto; and, whatever others may say or think of me, I have no other motive but the principle of Divine love. I can promise my sect neither riches nor honour, by my opposition to the conference; but quite the reverse. To be expelled the connexion, after thirty-five years of uninterrupted labour, is, to me, a very painful thought; but I see I must suffer it; and shall only take away with me this motto, ‘Driven from Methodism for defending the injured, and nearly abrogated and obsolete, ordinance of Christ.’ Farewell, Mr. Wesley! Farewell, Mr. Rodda! Farewell, conference!
“I have written Mr. Wesley my reasons for acting in opposition to his will, and my reasons why I must still act as I do; but he has given me no answer. Well, I am nothing. I only want to be the servant of God; and I see I must be His servant in His own way. If we may judge of the propriety of our action, by His sacred presence, I can assure you the tokens of that presence are wonderfully manifested in our assemblies.
“Many of the people in this circuit intend to apply again for the ordinance; and, perhaps, their petition will be treated with the same contempt as their last was at Manchester.
“I am your very affectionate, and much obliged friend and brother,
“Thomas Hanby.”
This was a painful state of things; Dewsbury, Shields, Nottingham, and Dublin, in rebellion; and now Thomas Hanby, ordained by Wesley, and one of his best preachers, in danger of expulsion, for doing what he deemed to be his duty. Fortunately, this unbending minister was saved; and became the elected president of the fourth conference that was held after Wesley’s death. On Christmas day, in 1796, he preached thrice in Nottingham, and met four or five classes for the renewal of their quarterly tickets. This was his last labour of love. Four days afterwards, he died, saying: “I am departing; but I have fought a good fight.”[674]
Wesley left Dublin, on his preaching tour through the Irish provinces, on the 13th of April, and returned on the 19th of June. In this nine weeks’ journey he preached about a hundred sermons, in more than sixty different towns and villages, at least a dozen times in the open air, half-a-dozen times in churches, and once in a place which, he says, was “large, but not elegant—a cow house.”
During a part of the time, he was seriously unwell, being attacked with a complaint which was new to him, diabetes. He wrote to London for the advice of Dr. Whitehead, and, though the disease abated under the doctor’s treatment, he suffered from it, more or less, to the time of his decease.[675]
“I was delighted,” says Mr. Alexander Knox, “to find his cheerfulness in no respect abated. It was too obvious that his bodily frame was sinking; but his spirit was as alert as ever; and he was little less the life of the company he happened to be in, than he had been three-and-twenty years before, when I first knew him. Such unclouded sunshine of the breast, in the deepest winter of age, and on the felt verge of eternity, bespoke a mind whose recollections were as unsullied as its present sensations were serene.”
In illustration of Mr. Knox’s testimony, an anecdote may be added. At this time, Mr. (afterwards the Rev.) Joseph Burgess was quartermaster of a regiment of soldiers in Sligo barracks, and had the honour of entertaining Wesley as his guest. A large party of friends were assembled to meet the venerable visitor at dinner; and, while the meal was in progress, he suddenly laid down his knife and fork, clasped his hands, and lifted up his eyes, as in the attitude of praise and prayer. In an instant, feasting was suspended, and all the guests were silent. Wesley then gave out, and sang with great animation,
The happy old man, so near to the gates of heaven, then quietly resumed his knife and fork; and all felt that this beautiful spontaneous episode, in the midst of an Irish dinner, had done them good.[676]
Wesley spent three weeks more in Dublin and its vicinity. He visited the classes, which contained above a thousand members, after he had excluded about a hundred. He also held his Irish conference, at which, of the sixty preachers then employed in the sister island, between forty and fifty were present. He writes:
“I found such a body of men as I hardly believed could have been found together in Ireland; men of so sound experience, so deep piety, and so strong understanding. I am convinced, they are no way inferior to the English conference, except it be in number. I never saw such a number of preachers before, so unanimous in all points, particularly as to leaving the Church, which none of them had the least thought of. It is no wonder, that there has been this year so large an increase of the society.”
On the conference Sunday, Wesley and his preachers, and a large number of the Dublin Methodists, attended the service in St. Patrick’s. “The dean,” says he, “preached a serious, useful sermon; and we had such a company of communicants as, I suppose, had scarce been seen there together, for above a hundred years.”
On his birthday he wrote:
“June 28.—This day I enter on my eighty-sixth year.[677] I now find, I grow old: (1) My sight is decayed; so that I cannot read a small print, unless in a strong light. (2) My strength is decayed; so that I walk much slower than I did some years since. (3) My memory of names, whether of persons or places, is decayed; till I stop a little to recollect them. What I should be afraid of, is, if I took thought for the morrow, that my body should weigh down my mind; and create either stubbornness, by the decrease of my understanding, or peevishness, by the increase of bodily infirmities: but Thou shalt answer for me, O Lord my God.”
At length, on July 12, Wesley bid adieu to the shores of Ireland, for ever. It was a touching scene. Multitudes followed him to the ship. Before he went on board, he read a hymn; and the crowd, as far as emotion would let them, joined the sainted patriarch in singing. He then dropped upon his knees, and asked God to bless them, their families, the Church, and Ireland. Shaking of hands followed; many wept most profusely; and not a few fell on the old man’s neck and kissed him. He stepped on deck; the vessel moved; and then, with his hands still lifted up in prayer, the winds of heaven wafted him from an island which he dearly loved; and the warm hearted Irish Methodists “saw his face no more.”[678]
Before proceeding with Wesley’s history, another selection from his letters may be welcome. The first was addressed to a man who deserves a passing notice.
Walter Churchey was an enthusiastic Welshman; a lawyer with a large family and a slender purse; a good, earnest, conceited old Methodist, who, unfortunately for his wife and children, had more delight in writing poetry than he had employment in preparing briefs. He was one of Wesley’s correspondents as early as 1771;[679] exchanged letters with Wesley’s brother Charles; was an acquaintance of the saintly Fletcher; and an intimate friend of Joseph Benson and Dr. Coke. He claimed the honour, which belonged to others, of having first suggested to Wesley the publishing of his Arminian Magazine;[680] and, in a manuscript letter before us, states that he it was who originated the scheme for reducing what he calls “the national debt” of Methodism in the year 1800. He was a good man, though perhaps flighty, very diligent but very poor, a warm admirer of Methodist doctrine, but withal a millenarian, who wrote, in the letter just mentioned: “I have lost my friend, Wesley; but I shall see him again, perhaps soon, even upon earth, where the sufferers for Christ are to rise to reign in His spiritual kingdom on earth a thousand years. I grow daily a greater Brotherite.”[681]
In 1786, Churchey wished to enrich the world with his poetical productions; and, among others, consulted Wesley and the poet Cowper. The latter, in reply, remarked: “I find your versification smooth, your language correct and forcible, and especially in your translation of the Art of Printing. But you ask me, would I advise you to publish? I would advise every man to publish, whose subjects are well chosen, whose sentiments are just, and who can afford to be a loser, if that should happen, by his publication.”[682]
Thus encouraged, the sanguine Welshman set to work; Wesley helped him in obtaining subscribers; the poems were published; the reviewers were revilers; and poor Churchey was poorer than ever.
The following letters, among others, were addressed to this worthy, but needy man. The first and second have not before been published.
“London, February 11, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—On Monday, March 2, I hope to be in Bath or Bristol, and then we may talk about the number of copies. I have been much more concerned than you, for these sixty years, in printing books, both with and without subscription; and I still think, with all our skill and industry, we shall be hard set to procure three hundred subscribers. Perhaps three hundred may promise; but we must never imagine that all who promise will perform. But of this we may talk more, when we meet at Bristol.
“I suppose every one that loves King George loves Mr. Pitt. Peace be with all your spirits!
“I am your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”
“Clones, May 25, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—I am afraid of delay. I doubt, I shall not be able to be as good as our word, although, in the last proposals, I have protracted the time of delivery till the 1st of August. As you are not a stripling, I wonder you have not yet learnt the difference between promise and performance. I allow, at least, five-and-twenty per cent; and, from this conviction, I say to each of my subscribers (what, indeed, you cannot say so decently to yours), ‘Sir, down with your money.’
“I know Dr. Ogilvie well. He is a lovely man and an excellent poet. I commend you for inoculating the children. I believe the hand of God is in our present work: therefore, it must prosper. Indeed, I love sister Churchey, and am your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
The following, besides referring to Churchey’s poems, is possessed of interest as containing an allusion to the prayer-book published in 1788; and also Wesley’s final testimony concerning the great philanthropist, John Howard, who died seven months afterwards.
“Dublin, June 20, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—Michael —— is an original. He tells lies innumerable, many of them plausible enough. But many talk full as plausibly as he; and they that can believe him, may.
“I do not doubt, but some part of your verse, as well as prose, will reach the hearts of some of the rich.
“Dr. Coke made two or three little alterations in the prayer-book without my knowledge. I took particular care throughout, to alter nothing merely for altering’s sake. In religion, I am for as few innovations as possible; I love the old wine best. And if it were only on this account, I prefer ‘which’ before ‘who art in heaven.’
“Mr. Howard is really an extraordinary man. God has raised him up to be a blessing to many nations. I do not doubt, but there has been something more than natural in his preservation hitherto, and should not wonder if the providence of God should hereafter be still more conspicuous in his favour.
“About three weeks hence, I expect to embark for England. Peace be with you and yours!
“I am your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”[683]
While in Ireland, Wesley was troubled with the affairs of Scotland. Two years before this, John Pawson, eager to exercise his newly acquired episcopal or presbyterian power,—whichever the reader has a mind to call it,—began, in Glasgow, a species of Methodism, which was not Wesley’s, but his own. He ordained seven elders, who were to meet weekly, and to have the supervision of the temporal and spiritual affairs of the Glasgow Methodists. In a book, Pawson wrote the rules, which were to regulate their conduct. Among others, one regulation was, that no person should be admitted into the society, or be expelled from it, but by a majority of these ordained elders; for, though the itinerant preacher might preside at their meetings, he was not allowed to vote. No doubt, honest but simple Pawson expected good and great results. The elders, however, like Pawson, had no notion of being invested with ecclesiastical office without using it; and, hence, all sorts of paltry cases were got up, apparently for the purpose of enabling the newly fledged elders to show their skill in settling them. One must suffice, as a specimen. Thomas Tassey, the most vigilant and active of the official seven, alleged that Peggy —— had become a lodger with Peggy ——, and had committed theft; and that, as the time for the administration of the sacrament was approaching, the charge against Peggy —— ought to be judicially examined. Accordingly, a sessions was appointed. The elders, the accuser, the accused, and the witnesses were present. Beside these, there were also the two circuit preachers, Jonathan Crowther and Joseph Cownley, whom Crowther justly designates “two poor ciphers,” seeing, though they might preside, they had no power to vote. The charge was, that when Peggy —— went to lodge with Peggy ——, the latter Peggy bought half an ounce of tea, and a farthing’s worth of oil; that these household provisions did not last so long as usual; and that the probability was, that the property of Peggy —— had, to some extent, been feloniously appropriated by her lodger, Peggy ——. The affair was so serious, and withal so solemnly conducted, that it became needful to adjourn. At the second sessions, Crowther (who, though not allowed to vote, had a right to examine witnesses), asked the Peggy whose property was in question, how often she had made herself tea out of the half ounce, part of which had been stolen. Peggy dolorously answered, “Only seven times.” She was then examined respecting her farthing’s worth of oil; and it was ascertained, that, though it had not lasted as long as usual, she had been using a new feather in applying it; and it was thought that the new feather might have absorbed the quantity which Peggy, the lodger, was accused of stealing.
So the matter ended. Jonathan Crowther was disgusted, and told Pawson’s ordained elders, that their discipline resembled the wisdom of Solomon, for it took cognisance of everything, from the hyssop on the wall to the cedars of mount Lebanon. The system had been instituted by Pawson, one of Wesley’s confidential friends, and a preacher of seventeen years’ standing. Crowther was young and inexperienced, only in the fifth year of his itinerant life; but he was gifted with common sense, and saw that, if this ordained machinery was continued, Methodism must be ruined. Wesley had been in Scotland twelve months before; but, strangely enough, appears to have been kept in ignorance of the new court at Glasgow. At all events, Jonathan Crowther now wrote to him; and received the following decisive answer.