1756.

1756
Age 53

WHITEFIELD began the year 1756 with quinsy. A physician prescribed a perpetual blister; but Whitefield says, he found that a better remedy was perpetual preaching.[252] In February, he commenced preaching in a Dissenting chapel, in Long Acre. The bishop of the diocese sent him a prohibition.[253] Whitefield persisted. A mob, belonging to the bishop’s vestry, assembled, with “bells, drums, clappers, marrow bones, and cleavers,” and made the most hideous noises, to hinder Whitefield being heard. The chapel windows were smashed with stones, levelled at Whitefield in the pulpit. Anonymous letters were sent to him, full of the most fearful threats. One of these was forwarded to the government; who, at once, offered a reward and his majesty’s pardon to any one who would detect the writer. This, together with steps taken to bring such an ecclesiastical outrage into a court of law, stopped the evil.

The annoyances at Long Acre led Whitefield to commence the erection of Tottenham Court chapel. The sabbath after he took possession of the ground, he obtained nearly £600 towards the expense of building. It was begun in May, and opened in November, 1756, and was called, by a neighbouring doctor, “Whitefield’s Soul Trap.”[254]

During the present year, an octavo volume, of 229 pages, was published, with the title, “The History of Modern Enthusiasm, from the Reformation to the present Times.” A long list of subscribers’ names is given, including dukes, earls, lords, knights, members of parliament, bishops, deans, prebends, fellows of colleges, and rectors, vicars, and curates without number. In the preface, it is alleged that, “though Methodism is now almost quite extinct, yet several of its direful consequences still remain,—as, that sin is no sin in the elect; that faith can never be finally lost; and that once a saint, for ever a saint. The most zealous of the party now, in a great measure, wallow in lust and sensuality, and never stick at anything, be it ever so heinous.” The Moravians are said to be, “in principle and practice, a scandal to Christianity. Inward experiences, dispensations, manifestations, discoveries, improvements, pledges, privileges, and prerogatives; out-goings, in-goings, and returns,—all this glorious apparatus had ended in fulfilling the lusts of the flesh!” Whitefield is accused of reviving antinomianism, of vain glory and boasting, of self conceit, self applause, and self sufficiency, of Luciferian pride, and of intolerably profaning Scripture. Wesley is equally abused. “The petty exhorters” are said to “ramble from place to place, venting crude, nonsensical, heretical, and blasphemous opinions, which are swallowed by the gaping multitude.” “Most of their first admirers and followers were perfectly bewildered, and, having deserted both Wesley and Whitefield, had turned Moravians, or libertines, or deists, or papists, or quakers.” The itinerant preachers and exhorters were “mechanics and illiterate vagrants, pretending to expound by inspiration, and fathering all their crude conceptions on the dictates of the Holy Spirit.”

These are mild specimens of the rabid production of the Rev. Theophilus Evans, vicar of St. David’s, Brecon. Is it necessary to apologise for the reproduction of such mendacious scurrility? We think not; for, without this, the reader cannot form an adequate conception of the gross abuse poured upon Wesley and his friends, and of the terrific difficulties which the first Methodists had to meet.

Another attack, of a different kind, must be mentioned: “The Use and Extent of Reason in Matters of Religion. A Sermon preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary’s, June 8, 1756. By Thomas Griffith, M.A., Fellow of Pembroke College. Published at the request of the Vice-Chancellor and Heads of Houses. Oxford, 1756.” 8vo, 25 pages. Of course, Mr. Griffith eschews Mr. Evans’s vulgarities, and it is fair to add, that the Methodists are hardly named; but it is also undeniable, that it was against them that he was chiefly preaching.

Wesley began the new year by writing his “Address to the Clergy,” which will be noticed hereafter. He was, also, not forgetful of his own itinerants. Joseph Cownley had had a fever in 1755, which had left a permanent pain in his head, and from which he suffered until his death, thirty-seven years afterwards. After consulting the principal physicians in Ireland, he consulted Wesley, who wrote thus.

“London, January 10, 1756.

“My dear Brother,—I have no objection to anything but the blister. If it does good, well. But if I had been at Cork, all the physicians in Ireland should not have put it upon your head. Remember poor Bishop Pearson. An apothecary, to cure a pain in his head, covered it with a large blister. In an hour, he cried out, ‘O my head, my head!’ and was a fool ever after, to the day of his death. I believe cooling things (if anything under heaven), would remove that violent irritation of your nerves, which probably occasions the pain. Moderate riding may be of use; I believe, of more than the blister. Only do not take more labour upon you than you can bear. Do as much as you can, and no more. Let us make use of the present time. Every day is of importance. We know not how few days of peace remain.

“I am, dear Joseph, your affectionate friend and brother,

“John Wesley.”[255]

On January 26 and three following days, Wesley paid a visit to Canterbury, where he had a congregation containing “abundance of soldiers, and not a few of their officers.” Some might think, that a city like Canterbury, with its magnificent cathedral, its numerous parish churches, and giving its name to the primate of all England, would have had no need of the services of a man like Wesley; and, perhaps, if special circumstances had not existed here, Wesley would not have come. But it was here that Edward Perronet resided, in a part of the old archbishop’s palace. In the suburbs, Vincent Perronet, Wesley’s confidential friend, the archbishop of Methodism as he was sometimes called, was the proprietor of a farm. Above all, Canterbury was a great military depot, and such was the interest which Wesley felt in the welfare of soldiers, that this fact, in itself, was enough to bring him to this far famed city. Love begets love: large numbers of these brave defenders of the country’s rights and honour were converted, and became deeply attached to the few Canterbury Methodists who had shown them kindness. It is said, that on one occasion, when certain regiments were on their way to Holland, and had to pass through the city, such was their grateful remembrance of bygone days, that the Methodists, in the regiments, determined to avail themselves of the opportunity of meeting in class with their former leader; and this they did in such numbers, that the military class-meeting lasted for nine successive hours.[256] No wonder that Wesley loved men like these. He came in January, and again a month afterwards, when he dined with one of the colonels, who said: “No men fight like those who fear God; I had rather command five hundred such, than any regiment in his majesty’s army.”

At this period, the unfortunate Dr. Dodd was struggling into notoriety and fame. Such were his application and talents, that, though only a sizar of Cambridge university, he had, five years before, taken the degree of B.A. with distinguished credit. Leaving Cambridge, he came to London, depending for support solely upon his pen. Here he followed every species of amusement with dangerous avidity. Though only a little past twenty-one, he married the daughter of one of Sir John Dolben’s domestics, and immediately took and furnished a large house in Wardour Street, which, however, at his father’s remonstrance, he soon relinquished. He then obtained ordination, and had now the lectureship of St. Olave, Hart Street; and was also the preacher of Lady Moyer’s lectures at St. Paul’s. He quickly distinguished himself as one of the most popular of the metropolitan preachers. Of his subsequent career we shall have to speak hereafter.

Dodd was now a young man in the twenty-seventh year of his age,—wild and extravagant, but sincere, earnest, and greatly beloved by the crowds that flocked to hear him. In the month of January, he wrote to Wesley on the subject of Christian perfection. Wesley, twice as old as himself, and in all respects his superior, had no personal acquaintance with him, but replied as follows.

February 5, 1756.

“Reverend Sir,—I am very willing to consider whatever you have to advance on the head of Christian perfection. When I began to make the Scriptures my study (about seven and twenty years ago), I began to see, that Christians are called to love God with all their heart, and to serve Him with all their strength; which is precisely what I apprehend to be meant by the scriptural term, ‘perfection.’ After weighing this for some years, I openly declared my sentiments before the university, in the sermon on the Circumcision of the Heart. About six years after, in consequence of an advice I received from Bishop Gibson, ‘Tell all the world what you mean by perfection,’ I published my coolest and latest thoughts, in the sermon on that subject. I therein build on no authority, ancient or modern, but the Scripture. If this supports any doctrine, it will stand: if not, the sooner it falls, the better. Neither the doctrine in question, nor any other, is anything to me, unless it be the doctrine of Christ and His apostles. If, therefore, you will please to point out to me any passages in that sermon, which are either contrary to Scripture, or not supported by it, and to show that they are not, I shall be full as willing to oppose, as ever I was to defend them. I search for truth—plain Bible truth, without any regard to the praise or dispraise of men. If you will assist me in this search, more especially by showing me where I have mistaken my way, it will be gratefully acknowledged by, reverend sir, your affectionate brother and servant,

“John Wesley.”[257]

This noble letter was followed by further correspondence, showing that, instead of being wedded to his own peculiar doctrines, Wesley’s supreme anxiety was to know, what is truth. The following is an extract from a letter which fills nearly seven printed pages of the Arminian Magazine.

“Kingswood, March 12, 1756.

“Reverend Sir,—You and I the more easily bear with each other, because we are both of us rapid writers, and, therefore, the more liable to mistake. I will thank you for showing me any mistake I am in; being not so tenacious of my opinions now, as I was twenty or thirty years ago. Indeed, I am not fond of any opinion as such. I read the Bible with what attention I can, and regulate all my opinions thereby, to the best of my understanding. But I am always willing to receive more light: particularly with regard to any less common opinions; because the explaining and defending them takes up much time, which I can ill spare from other employments. Whoever, therefore, will give me more light with regard to Christian perfection, will do me a singular favour. The opinion I have concerning it, at present, I espouse merely because I think it is scriptural; if, therefore, I am convinced it is not scriptural, I shall willingly relinquish it. I have no particular fondness for the term. It seldom occurs either in my preaching or writings. It is my opponents who thrust it upon me continually, and ask me what I mean by it.

“That the term ‘perfection’ is a scriptural term, is undeniable. Therefore, none ought to object to the use of the term, whatever they may do to this or that application of it. I still think, that perfection is only another term for holiness, or the image of God in man. God made man perfect, I think, is just the same as He made him holy, or in His own image. You are the very first person I ever read of or spoke with, who made any doubt of it. Now this perfection does certainly admit of degrees. Therefore, I readily allow the propriety of that distinction, perfection of kinds, and perfection of degrees. Nor do I remember one writer, ancient or modern, who excepts against it.

“I never meant any more by perfection than the loving God with all our heart, and serving Him with all our strength. But I dare not say less than this. For it might be attended with worse consequences than you seem to be aware of. If there be a mistake, it is far more dangerous on the one side than on the other. If I set the mark too high, I drive men into needless fears: if you set it too low, you drive them into hell fire.

“With regard to fathers in Christ, you say, I ‘set aside the experience of the best Christians.’ I did not tell you so: I say nothing about them. In a sermon of a single sheet, I had no room for anything but plain arguments from Scripture. I have somewhat to say, if need should be, from the head of authority likewise: yea, and abundantly more than you seem to apprehend. My father gave me, thirty years ago, to reverence the ancient church and our own. But I try every church and every doctrine by the Bible. This is the word by which we are to be judged in that day. Whatever further thoughts you are pleased to communicate, will be seriously considered by, reverend and dear sir, your affectionate brother and fellow labourer,

“John Wesley.”[258]

Thus, for the present, ended his correspondence with William Dodd.

The year 1756 opened under a cloud of gloom. “Men,” says Wesley, “were divided in their expectations concerning the ensuing year. Some believed it would bring a large harvest of temporal calamities; others, that it would be unusually fruitful of spiritual blessings.”[259]

Nine months before, the government had announced, that war with France was inevitable. Fears were felt for Ireland, which was dissatisfied and turbulent. A million of money was voted for the defence of our American possessions. The French ambassador at London, and the English ambassador at Paris, were recalled, and a war commenced which cost millions of human lives, devastated no inconsiderable part of Europe, and carried carnage into all the four quarters of the globe. Even before the end of 1755, three hundred French merchant ships, many of them extremely rich, and about eight thousand French seamen, were brought into English ports. Still great alarm existed. There were hostile preparations in the channel; and a descent of the French upon England and Ireland was feared. On February 6, a national fast was observed, throughout the kingdom, with unusual seriousness. Such a fast in London had not been seen since the Restoration. Business was suspended, and churches and meeting houses were more than full.[260] Charles Wesley reprinted the “Hymns for Times of Trouble.” George Whitefield published an “Address to persons of all Denominations,” in which he spoke of “an insulting, enraged, and perfidious enemy advancing nearer and nearer to the British borders,” “accompanied with a popish Pretender, and thousands of Romish priests, to invade, subdue, and destroy the bodies and substance, and to blind, deceive, and tyrannise over the souls and consciences of the people belonging to this happy isle.”[261]

All this was right, and deserves to be commended; but, as usual, Wesley was more practical than either his friend Whitefield, or than his brother Charles. On the 1st of March, he addressed the following communication to the Hon. James West, Esq.

“Sir,—A few days since, Mr. Whitefield and I desired a friend to ask your advice,—to whom it would be proper to make an offer of raising a company of volunteers for his majesty’s service. We apprehended the number would be about five hundred. Finding Mr. Whitefield has since been persuaded, that such an offer is premature, I am constrained to make the following, independently of him: To raise, for his majesty’s service, at least two hundred volunteers, to be supported by contributions among themselves; and to be ready, in case of invasion, to act for a year, if needed so long, at his majesty’s pleasure: only within —— miles of London.

“If this be acceptable to his majesty, they beg to have arms out of the Tower, giving the usual security for their return; and some of his majesty’s sergeants, to instruct them in the military exercise.

“I am now hastening to Bristol, on account of the election; but if my return to London would be of any service, you may command, sir,

“Your obedient servant,

“John Wesley.”[262]

Wesley arrived in Bristol on the 3rd of March, and found “voters and non-voters ready to tear each other in pieces.” The two candidates were Jarrit Smith, Esq., and John Spencer, Esq. Wesley, having lost his voice, was not able to preach or to speak to the whole society; but desired those members who were freemen to meet him privately. The result is given in the following letter to Mr. Blackwell, written the day after.

“Bristol, March 4, 1756.

“Dear Sir,—If the election of Mr. Spencer be a thing of any consequence, then it was extremely ill judged to prevent his coming down. He ought to have been here at all hazards, if he were not very dangerously ill. His absence will probably turn the scale; and, if the Jacobites gain one member now, they will have two the next time. Whereas there is reason to believe, had Mr. Spencer appeared, there would have been no opposition.

“Last night, I desired all the freemen of our society to meet me after preaching, and enlarged a little upon his majesty’s character, and the reasons we had to spare no pains in his service, I believe all who had been wavering were fully convinced. But some had absolutely promised to vote for Mr. Smith; it having been confidently reported, that both the candidates were equally acceptable to his majesty.

“The whole city is in confusion. Oh what a pity there could not be some way of managing elections of every sort, without this embittering of Englishmen against Englishmen, and kindling fires which cannot be quenched in many years!

“I remain, dear sir, yours most affectionately,

“John Wesley.”[263]

The poll at Bristol ended on the 16th of March, when the numbers stood: for Mr. Smith, 2418; for Mr. Spencer, 2347; majority for Mr. Smith, 71.[264]

Wesley spent nearly a month in Bristol and its neighbourhood, and in the principality of Wales. While preaching at Pill, a press-gang landed from a man-of-war, and came to the place of meeting, but, after listening awhile, quietly departed. At Coleford, the little society had been harassed by disputatious baptists and quakers, but was now united and loving. He visited Howel Harris, at Trevecca, and met with a hearty welcome. “I wondered,” says he, “that Howel Harris did not go out and preach as usual; but he now informed me, he preached till he could preach no longer, his constitution being entirely broken. While he was thus confined, he was pressed in spirit to build a large house; though he knew not why, or for whom. But as soon as it was built, men, women, and children, without his seeking, came to it from all parts of Wales; and, except in the case of the Orphan House at Halle, I never heard of so many signal interpositions of Divine providence.”

On the 29th of March, Wesley embarked at Holyhead for Ireland. On landing, he was surprised to “find all Ireland in perfect safety. None had any more apprehension of an invasion, than of being swallowed up in the sea.”

Wesley employed a month in Dublin; during which he met about a hundred children, whom the Methodist preachers catechized publicly twice a week he conducted the first covenant service in Ireland, in which nearly four hundred of the Dublin society united; and he held a conference of the Irish preachers. He writes: “I never before found such unanimity among them. They appeared now to be not only of one heart, but likewise of one mind and judgment.”

He wrote as follows to his friend Blackwell.

“Dublin, April 19, 1756.

“Dear Sir,—While you, in England, are under I know not what apprehensions, all here are as safe as if they were already in paradise. We have no fortifying of seaports; no military preparations; but all is in absolute peace and safety. Both high and low seem fully persuaded, that the whole talk of an invasion is only a trick to get money.

“I purpose going to Cork directly; and, after two or three weeks, turning back toward the north of Ireland. If it please God that troublous times come between the design and the execution, I shall go as far as I can, and no farther. But I take no thought for the morrow. To-day I am determined, by His grace, to do the work of Him that sent me. I find encouragement so to do; for all the people here are athirst for the word of life.

“Do you, at London, believe that the danger of an invasion is over?

“I am, dear sir, your affectionate servant,

“John Wesley.”[265]

Wesley set out for Cork on April 26. On his way, he preached at Edinderry, where the little society had built a commodious preaching house. At Tullamore, he preached in the market-place, and spent an hour with certain military officers in the barracks. At Kilkenny, he found a number of soldiers meeting in class; and preached in one of the officers’ rooms. “Still,” he writes, “in Ireland, the first call is to the soldiery.” At Waterford, he had to remove “misunderstandings and offences.” The society was split asunder, and was reduced to six-and-twenty members; but he succeeded in winning one-and-thirty back. At Clonmel, which he pronounces the pleasantest town he had seen in Ireland, he preached once in a large loft, capable of containing five or six hundred people; and once in the open street. At the latter service, the mayor of the town, and a number of soldiers and officers, were present, and gave great attention; but, in the midst of the sermon, a drunken man came marching down the street, attended by a popish mob, with a club in one hand, and a large cleaver in the other, grievously cursing and blaspheming, and swearing he would cut off the preacher’s head. The soldiers were for punishing the man, and Wesley had difficulty in hindering them. The brute began to strike the congregation; and wounded a constable in the wrist. He himself was then knocked down, and the mayor and constables marched him away to gaol.

Wesley arrived at Cork on the 12th of May, and preached in the new chapel, which he describes as being “very near as large as that in Dublin; and far better finished in every respect, though at £400 less expense.” This, like the chapel at Dublin, had apartments for the preachers. It stood till 1826, when it was rebuilt, and again opened for Methodist services in 1827.

Having spent three weeks in Cork and its immediate neighbourhood, Wesley, on the 7th of June, turned his face northwards.

He came to Ballygarrane, a town of Palatines, who “retain,” says he, “much of the temper and manners of their own country, having no resemblance of those among whom they live. I found much life among this plain, artless, serious people. The whole town came together in the evening, and praised God for the consolation. Many of those, who are not outwardly joined with us, walk in the light of God’s countenance; yea, and have divided themselves into classes, in imitation of our brethren, with whom they live in perfect harmony. In examining the society, I was obliged to pause several times. The words of the plain, honest people came with so much weight, as frequently to stop me for a while, and raise a general cry among the hearers.”

The Palatines, as previously intimated, were refugees from the Palatinate of the Rhine, in Germany, and were driven from their homes for having embraced the principles of Luther and of the Reformation. Thousands fled to the camp of the Duke of Marlborough; and seven thousand were brought to England in 1709. Of these, three thousand were sent to America; a few remained in England; and the rest were removed to Ireland, and settled principally on the estate of Lord Southwell, in the neighbourhood of Ballingran, where each man was supplied with a musket, called “a Queen Anne,” to protect himself and family; while for every man, woman, and child, eight acres of ground were leased, at the annual rental of five shillings per acre, which the government, who wished to encourage the protestant interest, engaged to pay for the first twenty years. Having no gospel minister, these fugitive Germans soon became “eminent for drunkenness, cursing, swearing, and an utter neglect of religion.” Now they were again reformed; “an oath was rarely heard among them, or a drunkard seen”; they had built a preaching house; numbers were Methodists; and those that were not imitated the Methodists, by forming themselves into classes, and by holding meetings for Christian fellowship. They continued to be a serious, thinking people. “By their diligence,” says Wesley, “they turned all their land into a garden.” Days of darkness, however, soon came. Rents were so raised, that tenants were starved, and obliged to emigrate. In 1760, a company of these, now oppressed, Irish Palatines embarked at Limerick, as Christian emigrants, for America. The crowd who saw them leave little thought that two of that small band on board—Philip Embury, the local preacher, and Barbara Heck, the honest Methodist—were destined, in the mysterious providence of God, to influence for good countless myriads of human beings, and that their names would live as long as the sun and moon endure. That little and unpretending ship contained the germ of all the Methodist churches of the United States; churches which have now more or less beneath their influence about eight millions of the population of that prosperous hemisphere.

Leaving the Palatines, Wesley and Thomas Walsh proceeded to Limerick. At Ennis, he preached in the “courthouse, to a huge, wild, unawakened multitude, protestants and papists, many of whom would have been rude enough if they durst.”

Riding through the counties of Galway and Connaught, Wesley and Walsh came to Castlebar, in the county of Mayo. For ten days, this was the centre of their operations. Wesley preached repeatedly in the churches at Castlebar, Hollymount, and Ballyheen, to large and attentive congregations.

On the 19th of July, he first set foot in the province of Ulster, though his preachers had been labouring there, for several years, with great success. Many had been converted, and a considerable number united together in Christian fellowship.[266] At Lisburn, he preached in the market-house. The rector and his curate called upon him, and “spent two hours in free, serious, friendly conversation.” The society was small, and their preaching house, either now or soon after, was the shop of a stocking weaver, named William Black; his stocking frames filling a large portion of the place.[267] He spoke “plain,” he says, “both to the great vulgar and the small. But between Seceders, old, self conceited presbyterians, new-light men, Moravians, Cameronians, and formal churchmen, it is a miracle of miracles, if any here bring forth fruit to perfection.”

He proceeded to Belfast, where the great proportion of the population were presbyterians. There were four places of worship belonging to the body, two of which were Socinian or Arian. The parish church, in Donegall Street, was the only one then belonging to the Establishment, with the Rev. William Bristow for its vicar,—an able, orthodox, and liberal Christian.

At Carrickfergus, he preached in the session house to most of the inhabitants of the town. Here he was opposed by the notorious James Relly, who “begun a dull, pointless harangue, about hirelings and false prophets.” “He cawed, and cawed,” says Wesley, “but could utter nothing, hardly three words together.” Wesley preached, at the desire of the prisoners, near the prison door, so that the inmates might hear him. He went to church, and heard “a lively, useful sermon”; but, naturally enough, shocked one of the Methodists who asked him “to go to the meeting,” by saying, “I never go to a meeting.” “He seemed,” says he, “as much astonished as the old Scot, at Newcastle, who left us because we were Church of England men. We are so; although we condemn none who have been brought up in another way.” So Wesley salved his conscience, and feebly tried to free himself from the charge of bigotry.

On the 4th of August, he got back to Dublin, and, on the 10th, set sail, with three of his preachers, Walsh, Haughton, and Morgan, for England, having spent nineteen weeks in the sister island.

Preaching, on his way, at Chester, Bolton, Manchester, Chelmerton, Wednesbury, and other places, he arrived in Bristol on August 25, and held a conference with about fifty of his preachers. The rules of the society were “read, and carefully considered one by one; and all agreed to abide by them all, and to recommend them with all their might.” The rules of the bands were similarly considered, and, after making some verbal alterations, all consented to observe and to enforce them. The rules of Kingswood school were also reviewed, and were pronounced “agreeable to Scripture and reason.” It was also determined to begin a subscription for the school in every place; and, if needful, to make a collection every year.

The principal point discussed was the same as that which occupied so much of the time and attention of the conference of 1755. Wesley writes: “We largely considered the necessity of keeping in the Church, and using the clergy with tenderness; and there was no dissenting voice. God gave us all to be of one mind and of one judgment. My brother and I closed the conference by a solemn declaration of our purpose never to separate from the Church; and all our brethren concurred therein.”

This, among the Methodists, was the great question of the day, and deserves the reader’s best attention. “The attempt to force the Methodists to an attendance upon the services of the Church, by refusing to them the sacraments from their own preachers, and by closing their chapels during the sabbath, except early in the morning, and in the evening, drove many of them into a state of actual separation both from the Church and their own societies, and placed them in the hands of Dissenters. At Leeds, Mr. Edwards had assumed the character of an independent minister, as Charles Skelton had done in London, and had drawn away the greater part of the society with him.”[268]

Besides this, Edward Perronet, a man of great wit, had published a withering satire on the national Establishment, entitled “The Mitre,” 12mo, 279 pages. As the book was suppressed by Wesley,[269] and is now so extremely scarce, that perhaps not more than a dozen copies can be found,[270] the following selection, from the concluding verses of the first canto, may be acceptable, and may serve to suggest an idea of all the others. They are intended to describe the Established Church.

“To what compare thy fertile womb?

A den, a cavern, or the tomb?

Why not compare to all?

Dark, hollow, teeming, large and deep;

Or wild, or dead, or fast asleep;

And stubborn as a wall.

Or like a mart, high vending place;

Open for every age and face,

Who loiter, steal, or range:

Or, like the common road or street,

Where knaves, as honest, walk or meet;

As Albion’s grand Exchange.

In short, thou’rt like a common shore,

Filling and emptying, never pure

From pride, or pomp, or sin:

That, (speak they truth who say they know,)

With all thy scavengers can do,

They cannot keep thee clean.”

The second canto, which consists of 363 stanzas, is devoted to the Church’s “Divine right” to take tithes, and to enact, and to enforce laws, in reference to Easter dues, leases, etc.; to impose creeds; to preach; and to give sacraments. The following are the second and third verses.

“This sprite unseen, whence does it spring?

Is it a beggar or a king?

Or vile hermaphrodite?

To me this seems to be its sex;

It sometimes asks, and sometimes takes,

Careless of wrong or right.

I think its source is easy traced,

As are its claims in order placed,

Its furniture and crests;

A blended spawn of Church and State,

Its father—Constantine the Great,

Its dam—the pride of priests.”

The third canto is principally devoted to preachers and preaching; the fourth to christenings, confirmations, Church emoluments, the Lisbon earthquake, and England’s danger. No one will agree with all the author’s sentiments; but all must admit the pungency and power of his withering wit.

Space forbids the insertion of lengthened extracts from Edward Perronet’s suppressed production; but the following are fair specimens of its style and spirit. To express the indignation and disgust of a Churchman at the thought of receiving the sacrament from a lay preacher, whose call to preach is as much Divine as is that of the preacher episcopally ordained, the poet writes,—

“What, take the ordinance from them!

O, what a frenzy of a dream!

Nor deacon nor a priest!

Sooner renounce our grace or friends,

Than take it from their fingers’ ends!

A lay, unhallowed beast!”

Perronet, in a note, denounces the doctrine of the Lord’s supper being “a sacrifice”; and says, so long as this delusion is maintained, the sacrament must be administered by priests, and by priests only. He writes: “only reduce this simple institution to its primitive and scriptural standard, and then, a handful of private individuals, or a single family, may communicate, as the Christians did of old, and the sacrament (so called) become, once more, literally, a daily sacrifice of prayer and thanksgiving.” (Page 128.)

In another note (page 235), after referring to a book entitled, “The Dissenting Gentleman’s Answer to the Rev. Mr. White,” he says: “I was born, and am like to die in the tottering communion of the Church of England; but I despise her nonsense; and thank God, that I have once read a book, that no fool can answer, and that no honest man will.” He then proceeds to pronounce the Church’s doom. The reader must be satisfied with two stanzas only.

“Permit me to foretell thy doom,

(Which has in part been that of Rome,)

Thou wilt be clean abhorred:

The nation will expose thy shame,

Cast out as dung thy putrid name,

The vengeance of the Lord!

For while her orders, and her rules,

Are made the standard of thy schools,

And all beside of blame:

What other portion canst thou hope,

But that the wise should give thee up,

Her ape—without her name?”

The book throughout is written in the same severe,—almost savage style. Remembering this; and also remembering, that numbers of Methodists had already turned Dissenters; and that separation from the Church of England was still the great question agitating the Methodistic mind; no wonder that the subject was re-discussed in the conference of 1756, and that a most important correspondence followed.

While in Ireland, Wesley wrote to a clergyman, the Rev. Mr. Clark, of Hollymount,[271] in the following terms.

“Castlebar, July 3, 1756.

“Reverend Sir,—I still believe the episcopal form of church government to be scriptural and apostolical. I mean, well agreeing with the practice and writings of the apostles. But, that it is prescribed in Scripture, I do not believe. This opinion, which I once zealously espoused, I have been heartily ashamed of, ever since I read Bishop Stillingfleet’s ‘Irenicon.’ I think he has unanswerably proved, that neither Christ nor His apostles prescribe any particular form of church government; and, that the plea of Divine right for diocesan episcopacy was never heard of in the primitive church.

“As to heresy and schism, I cannot find one text in the Bible, where they are taken in the modern sense. I remember no one scripture, wherein heresy signifies ‘error in opinion,’ whether fundamental or not; nor any, wherein schism signifies a ‘separation from the church,’ whether with cause or without. I wish, sir, you would reconsider this point, and review the scriptures wherein those terms occur.

“I would take some pains to recover any one from error, or to reconcile him to our church, I mean, to the Church of England; from which I do not separate yet, and probably never shall; but I would take much more pains to recover any one from sin. One who lives and dies in error, or in dissent from our church, may yet be saved: but one who lives and dies in sin, must perish. I would to God, we could all agree both in opinions and outward worship; but, if this cannot be, may we not agree in holiness? This is the great desire of, reverend sir, your very humble servant,

“John Wesley.”[272]

Nineteen days before the Bristol conference was opened, Charles Wesley addressed the following to the Rev. Samuel Walker, of Truro.

“Bristol, August 7, 1756.

“Reverend and dear Sir,—My brother is coming hither to a conference with his preachers. Another letter from you might, by the blessing of God, confirm him in his calling. He seems resolved to temporize with them no longer. Mr. Grimshaw is coming to strengthen his hands. We shall have a private conference before the general one.

“I should have broken off from the Methodists and my brother, in 1752, but for the agreement.[273] I think every preacher should sign that agreement, or leave us. What I desire of my brother is:—1. That the unsound, unrecoverable preachers should be let depart just now. 2. That the wavering should be confirmed, if possible, and established in their calling. 3. That the sound ones should be received into the strictest union and confidence, and, as soon as may be, prepared for orders.

“To this end, my brother ought, in my judgment, to declare and avow, in the strongest and most explicit manner, his resolution to live and die in the communion of the Church of England. (1) To take all proper pains to instruct and ground both his preachers and his flock, in the same: a treatise is much wanting on this subject, which he might write and spread through all his societies. (2) To wait with me on the archbishop, who has desired to see him, and tell him our whole design. (3) To advise, as far as they think proper, with such of our brethren the clergy as know the truth, and do nothing without their approbation.

“I was advised long ago, by Lady Huntingdon, to write you on this subject, but could not do it till now. Your concern for the cause of God will, I doubt not, induce you to do all you can to promote it, and to hinder the work from being destroyed; although it would not be destroyed (as I often tell the Methodists) even if they all desert it, and turn aside to vain sectarian janglings. Remember at the throne of grace, dear sir, your meanest fellow servant,

“Charles Wesley.”[274]

The above was confidential. Mr. Walker treated it as such; and, nine days afterwards, not only wrote a long letter to Wesley himself, which will be noticed shortly, but also a long reply to Charles. The following are extracts.

August 16, 1756.

“Reverend and dear Sir,—I am greatly concerned about the issue of the conference your brother is to have with his lay preachers. We had a short correspondence on that head last winter, wherein I saw he was greatly pushed by his preachers, unwilling to part with them, and yet not caring to part from the Church of England.

“Lay preachers, being contrary to the constitution of the Church of England, are, as far as that point goes, a separation from it. It is quite another question, whether lay preachers be agreeable to the appointment of the Spirit respecting the ministry. The matter is not, whether lay preachers be needful, or what their calling may be. Be the one and the other as it will, the thing is plainly inconsistent with the discipline of the Church of England; and so, in one essential point, setting up a church within her, which cannot be of her. When, therefore, it is asked, shall we separate from the Church of England? it should rather be asked, shall we make the separation, we have begun, a separation in all forms? And if we do not think ourselves allowed to do this, shall we unite with her? We do not, unless lay preaching is laid aside.

“Yourselves must judge of the call and necessity of lay preachers, and whether that, or anything beside, may justify a separation. Meantime, there is a continual bar kept up between you and any regular clergyman, who cannot in conscience fall in with this measure. The most he can do is not to forbid them; he cannot take them by the hand. And so there must be two disunited ministrations of the word in the same place, by people who yet do call themselves of the Church of England.

“After all these considerations, might not an expedient be found out which might correspond with the word of God and the Church of England; and, at the same time, both remove all objections, and render the body of Methodists more useful? I have long and often thought of such a thing. My scheme is this. 1. That as many of the lay preachers as are fit for, and can be procured, ordination, be ordained. 2. That those who remain be not allowed to preach, but be set as inspectors over the societies, and assistants to them. 3. That they be not moved from place to place, to the end they may be personally acquainted with all the members of such societies. 4. That their business may be to purge and edify the societies under their care, to the end that no person be continued a member, whose conversation is not orderly and of good report.

“If this should be made an objection, that hereby lay preachers would be prevented from preaching abroad, and so much good be put a stop to, I would suggest it to be inquired into, whether this lay preaching hath been so much to the honour or interest of religion or Methodism as may be supposed? I remember, when it first began, I said and thought lay preaching would be the ruin of Methodism.

“The archbishop is greatly to be commended for his labours after peace; and, without question, if the measures are obtained which you desire, it will be very desirable he be waited on, and informed of them. But this must be done with fear, lest the leaders among you, being taken notice of by such great ones, do abate their zeal. Especially, it would be capable of a very bad interpretation, should any of them be advanced to considerable preferment.

“To my thinking, you will not gain much by getting the preachers to subscribe the agreement of March 10, 1752. If things are left as they are, they will break out at last, nor can anything less be expected at your brothers death, which is an event at no great distance, in all human appearance. Or should he live, still the evil is unremoved.

“I am yours, etc.,

“Samuel Walker.”[275]

In his letter to Wesley himself, Mr. Walker urges him to do something decisive in the way of putting Methodism on a footing that will “render it more serviceable to the church of Christ, and the Church of England.” He propounds the plan detailed in his letter to Charles Wesley. He wishes him, at the approaching conference: (1) To declare himself as satisfied concerning the unlawfulness of separation from the Church of England, and as fully determined to dispute that matter no more with any who dissented from his opinion; (2) to act with vigour, in requiring his preachers to declare themselves, suffering such to depart as declined to concur with him, and to make all his societies acquainted with the action he had taken. He adds: “Delays will make matters worse. The disaffected will grow upon you, corrupt others, and imagine you are afraid of them; while also, in so unsettled a state of things, nothing can go forward; the enemy has advantage; and the interests of vital religion must suffer.” He concludes by requesting that the business “be so conducted as to give no offence to Dissenters of any denomination, lest unadvisedly old disputes and party heats should be revived.”[276]

Before his brother’s arrival in Bristol, Charles Wesley replied to Mr. Walker, as follows.

“Bristol, August 21, 1756.

“Dear Sir,—Your last brings a blessing with it. I hope to consider it fully with my brother, who is expected every hour.

“Lay preaching, it is allowed, is a partial separation, and may, but need not, end in a total one. The probability of it has made me tremble for years past, and kept me from leaving the Methodists. I stay not so much to do good, as to prevent evil. I stand in the way of my brother’s violent counsellors, the object of both their fear and hate.

“The regulations you propose are the same in substance which I have been long contending for in vain. I know my brother will not hear of laying aside his lay preachers in so many words. All I can desire of him, to begin, is: (1) To cut off all their hopes of his leaving the Church of England; (2) to put a stop to any more new preachers, till he has entirely regulated, disciplined, and secured the old ones. If he wavers still, and trims between the Church and them, I know not what to do. As yet, it is in his power, if he exert himself, to stop the evil. But I fear he will never have another opportunity. The tide will be too strong for him, and bear him away into the gulf of separation. Must I not, therefore, enter my protest and give up the preachers formally to him? Hoc Ithacus volit, and they impatiently wait for it. The restless pains of bad men, to thrust me out from the Methodists, seem a plain argument for my continuing with them. I want light, and would have no will of my own, but prove what is that good and perfect will of God. Continue your prayers for, dear sir, your sincere, though weak and despised brother,

“Charles Wesley.”[277]

Wesley arrived; the conference was held; and, a few days afterwards, the following sensible and Christian letter was sent to Mr. Walker.

“Kingswood, September 3, 1756.

“Reverend and dear Sir,—I have one point in view, to promote, so far as I am able, vital, practical religion. On this single principle, I have hitherto proceeded, and taken no step but in subservience to it. With this view, when I found it to be absolutely necessary for the continuance of the work which God had begun in many souls, and which their regular pastors generally used all possible means to destroy, I permitted several of their brethren, whom I believed God had called thereto, and qualified for the work, to comfort, exhort, and instruct those who were athirst for God, or who walked in the light of His countenance. But, as the persons so qualified were few, and those who wanted their assistance very many, it followed, that most of these were obliged to travel continually from place to place; and this occasioned several regulations from time to time, which were chiefly made in our conferences.

“So great a blessing has, from the beginning, attended the labour of these itinerants, that we have been more and more convinced, every year, of the more than lawfulness of this proceeding. And the inconveniences, most of which we foresaw from the very first, have been both fewer and smaller than were expected. Rarely two in one year, out of the whole number of preachers, have either separated themselves or been rejected by us. A great majority have all along behaved as becometh the gospel of Christ; and, I am clearly persuaded, still desire nothing more than to spend and be spent for their brethren.

“‘How these may be settled on such a footing, as one might wish they might be after my death,’ is a weighty point, and has taken up many of my thoughts for several years; but I know nothing yet. The steps I am now to take are plain. I see broad light shining upon them; but the other part of the prospect I cannot see; clouds and darkness rest upon it. ‘To follow my own conscience, without any regard to consequences, or prudence, so called,’ is a rule which I have closely followed for many years, and hope to follow to my life’s end.

“The first of your particular advices is, ‘to keep in full view the interest of Christ’s church in general, and of practical religion; not considering the Church of England, or the cause of Methodism, but as subordinate thereto.’ This advice I have punctually observed from the beginning, as well as at our late conference. You advise, (2) ‘to keep in view the unlawfulness of a separation from the Church of England.’ To this likewise I agree. It cannot be lawful to separate from it, unless it be unlawful to continue in it. You advise, (3) ‘fully to declare myself on this head, and to suffer no dispute concerning it.’ The very same thing I wrote to my brother from Ireland. And we have declared ourselves without reserve. Nor was there any at the conference otherwise minded; those who would have aimed at dispute had left us before. All our preachers, as well as ourselves, purpose to continue in the Church of England. Nor did they ever before so freely and explicitly declare themselves on this subject.

“Your last advice is, ‘that as many of our preachers as are fit for it, be ordained; and that the others be fixed to certain societies, not as preachers, but as readers or inspectors.’

“You oblige me by speaking your sentiments so plainly: with the same plainness I will answer. So far as I know myself, I have no more concern for the reputation of Methodism, than for the reputation of Prester John.

“Is that which you propose a better way? This should be coolly and calmly considered.

“If I mistake not, there are now in Cornwall about four and thirty of these societies, part of whom now experience the love of God; part are more or less earnestly seeking it. Four preachers,—Peter Jaco, Thomas Johnson, W. Crabb, and William Allwood,—design, for the ensuing year, partly to call other sinners to repentance, but chiefly to guide and feed those few feeble sheep.

“Now suppose, that we can effect, that Peter Jaco and Thomas Johnson be ordained and settled in the curacies of Buryan and St. Just; and suppose William Crabb and William Allwood fix at Launceston and the Dock, as readers and exhorters; will this answer the end I have in view, so well as travelling through the county?

“It will not answer it so well, even with regard to those societies with whom Peter Jaco and Thomas Johnson have settled. Be their talents ever so great, they will, ere long, grow dead themselves, and so will most of those that hear them. I know, were I myself to preach one whole year in one place, I should preach both myself and most of my congregation asleep. Nor can I ever believe, it was ever the will of our Lord, that any congregation should have one teacher only. We have found, by long and constant experience, that a frequent change of teachers is best. This preacher has one talent, that another. No one, whom I ever knew, has all the talents which are needful for beginning, continuing, and perfecting the work of grace in a whole congregation.

“But suppose this would better answer the end with regard to those two societies, would it answer in those where William Allwood and William Crabb were settled as inspectors or readers? First, who shall feed them with the milk of the word? The ministers of their parishes? Alas, they cannot: they themselves neither know, nor live, nor teach the gospel. These readers? Can then either they, or I, or you, always find something to read our congregation, which will be as exactly adapted to their wants, and as much blessed to them, as our preaching? And here is another difficulty still: what authority have I to forbid their doing what I believe God has called them to do? I apprehend, indeed, that there ought, if possible, to be both an outward and inward call to this work; yet, if one of the two be supposed wanting, I had rather want the outward than the inward call. I rejoice, that I am called to preach the gospel both by God and man. Yet, I acknowledge, I had rather have the Divine without the human, than the human without the Divine call.

“But waiving this, and supposing these four societies to be better provided for than they were before, what becomes of the other thirty? Will they prosper as well when they are left as sheep without a shepherd? The experiment has been tried again and again, and always with the same event; even the strong in faith grew weak and faint; many of the weak made shipwreck of faith; the awakened fell asleep; and sinners, changed for a while, returned as a dog to the vomit. And so, by our lack of service, many of the souls perished for whom Christ died. Now, had we willingly withdrawn our service from them, by voluntarily settling in one place, what account of this could we have given to the great Shepherd of all our souls?

“I cannot, therefore, see how any of those four preachers, or any others in like circumstances, can ever, while they have health and strength, ordained or unordained, fix in one place, without a grievous wound to their own conscience, and damage to the general work of God. Yet, I trust, I am open to conviction; and your further thoughts on this, or any subject, will be always acceptable to, reverend and dear sir, your very affectionate brother and fellow labourer,

“John Wesley.”[278]

Such a letter ought to have been conclusive. By its practical common sense, it demolishes the fanciful theory of Charles Wesley and his friend Walker. The matter, however, was far from being settled. Walker accused Wesley of timidity. “He is,” says he, in a letter to Charles Wesley, “hindered by his own fears, which give the preachers an advantage they could not otherwise possibly have. He sees the necessity of either laying the preachers aside, or making them a separate church; while also, on the one hand, his conscience will not digest separation; and, on the other, he has had too great a hand in setting them up, to think of pulling them down. It has been a great fault all along, to have made the low people of your council; and, if there be not power enough left in your brother’s hands to do as he sees fit, they will soon show him they will be their own masters.”[279]

Mr. Walker, on September 2, wrote to the Rev. Thomas Adam, rector of Wintringham, telling him that the affair had become exceedingly serious; and that, in his opinion, unless the lay preachers were laid aside, it would end in separation. He adds, that Charles Wesley might consent to their dismissal; but Wesley himself would not.[280]

Three weeks later, Adam replied to Walker in the following, not over charitable, terms.

September 21, 1756.

“Dear Sir,—Methodism, as to its external form, is such a deviation from the rule and constitution of the Church of England, that all attempts to render it consistent must be in vain. Lay preaching is a manifest irregularity, and would not be endured in any Christian society. To salve this sore, you say, let some of their lay preachers be ordained. But suppose they were, to what end would they be ordained? That they might still go on to preach in fields, or private houses, and hold separate meetings? This would be as great a breach upon the order of the Church as ever, and perhaps attended with greater inconveniences than their present practice. J. Wesley will not, cannot give up the point of lay preaching; it will be giving up all; he must cry peccavi, and his heart will hold him a tug before it comes to that. Upon the whole, my judgment is, that they have embarrassed themselves past recovery; and must either go on in their present form, or separate totally and openly. The latter, many think, would be more ingenuous than an underhand separation. I think you must e’en let the Methodists alone. I do not see what help you can afford them, consistently with their principles and your own. ‘Every plant,’ etc., should make us tremble on one side and the other.

“I am, reverend and dear sir,

“Your unworthy brother,

“Thos. Adam.”[281]

Amid such difficulties, such friends, and such opponents, poor perplexed Wesley had to grope his way as he best could. For a time, the feverish anxiety of his brother somewhat subsided. Within a week after the conference, he wrote to Mr. Walker, his confidential, if not wise, adviser, as follows.

“Bristol, September 6, 1756.

“Dear Sir,—Between forty and fifty, or almost all, our itinerant preachers were present at our conference. I have talked largely with each, some of whom I had not known before so much as by name. Mr. Venn, a clergyman, was with us the whole time. Since our last conference at Leeds, two or three of our preachers, of a froward unhumbled spirit, have left us. The rest, except two here and two in Ireland, are, I have good reason to believe, men of a single eye, and humble, teachable spirit. My brother seems farther from a separation than ever. This morning, he set out for London, to print a new edition of his Notes. He has also undertaken to write a treatise, to confirm the Methodists in the Church. Next Monday, I expect to set out for the north on the same errand. Continue your prayers for, dear sir, your weakest brother,

“Charles Wesley.”[282]

On September 17, Charles Wesley started upon his northern mission. At Walbridge, he exhorted the forty-three members of the Methodist society “to continue steadfast in the communion of the Church of England.” At Cheltenham, he writes: “I did not forget to confirm the brethren in their calling; that is, to live and die in the Church of England.” At Sheffield, he “spake plainly and lovingly to the society of continuing in the Church; and, though many of them were Dissenters and predestinarians, none were offended.” At Rotherham, he says: “I plainly told the society, that ‘there is no salvation out of the church,’ that is, out of the mystical body of Christ, or the company of faithful people.” At Leeds, he tells us, the society “were unanimous to stay in the Church, because the Lord stays in it, and multiplies His witnesses therein, more than in any other church in Christendom.” At York, he writes: “I exhorted them to go to church, that they might be found of Jesus in the temple.” At Seacroft, where Grimshaw joined him, he “strongly exhorted the society to continue stedfast in fellowship with each other, and the whole Church of England.” At Heptonstall, he “warned them of the wiles of the devil, whereby he would draw them away from the church, and the other means of grace.” At Manchester, he challenged them “to show him one Methodist who had ever prospered by turning Dissenter.” While here, he also addressed his brother as follows.

“One thing might prevent, in great measure, the mischiefs which will probably ensue after our death; and that is, greater, much greater deliberation and care in admitting preachers. Ought any new preacher to be received before we know, that he is grounded, not only in the doctrines we teach, but in the discipline also, and, particularly, in the communion of the Church of England? Ought we not to try what he can answer a baptist, a quaker, a papist, as well as a predestinarian or Moravian? If we do not insist on that στοργη for our desolate mother as a pre-requisite, yet should we not be well assured, that the candidate is no enemy to the Church? Is it not our duty to stop J. C.” [Joseph Cownley?] “and such like, from railing and laughing at the Church? Should we not now, at least, shut the stable door? The short remainder of my life is devoted to this very thing, to follow our sons with buckets of water, to quench the flame of strife and division, which they have or may kindle.”

He also wrote, from the same place, to his friend Grimshaw, under date of October 29: “I could not leave this poor shattered society so soon as I proposed. They have not had fair play from our treacherous sons in the gospel. I have once more persuaded them to go to church and sacrament, and stay to carry them thither the next Lord’s day. Nothing but grace can keep our children, after our departure, from running into a thousand sects, a thousand errors.”

He likewise wrote to his “beloved brethren at Leeds, etc.,” as follows: “I knew beforehand, that the Sanballats and Tobiahs would be grieved when they heard there was a man come to seek the welfare of the Church of England. I expected they would pervert my words, as if I should say, ‘The Church could save you.’ But let not their slanders move you. Continue in the old ship. Jesus hath a favour for our Church, and is wonderfully visiting and reviving His work in her.”[283]

On November 6, he got back to Bristol, and, ten days later, sent the following furious letter to his brother—a letter now for the first time published.

“Bristol, November 16, 1756.

“Doubtless you guard in your ‘Preservative’ against that levelling, devilish, root and branch, spirit, which breathes in every line of the ‘Mitre.’ I kept my own thoughts till you imparted yours, with which I entirely agree. Only you do him too much honour by naming him with the Independent Whig. The religion of both is equal, but Ted exceeds in bitterness and malice beyond all comparison. Much wit I can see in the Independent Whig; but in the ‘Mitre’ none at all. Such insufferable dulness would surfeit every reader, but those whose hearts are as thoroughly corrupted as the writer’s. I marvel how he can look you or me in the face, after writing and propagating such a book; how he can pretend to be our fellow labourer! Notwithstanding his promise to us, at J. Jones’, he continues to spread his notions with his book. He does not sell, but gives it to our preachers and friends. One he made me the bearer of to York. I have heard none commend its wit, but Mrs. James, and Christopher Hopper, which convinces me nothing is too stupid to do hurt. Is it right or fair, that he should go on to poison our children, and wound us through the influence which we lend him? I love both him and Charles and the whole family. So you do, as we have abundantly shown. But must we, therefore, suffer this madman to cast firebrands, and to tear our flock to pieces? I know he is totally fallen from grace; and can I, ought I, ever to trust him till he is sensible of his fall? In my private capacity, I show him what love and civility I can, and intend to continue his friend, as far as he is capable of receiving good from me; but, as ministers of Christ, as guardians of this particular church, as fathers of the poor Methodists, what ought we to do? Let us first agree betwixt ourselves, and cut off all his hopes of ever coming between us. Then, whatever you say, or do, or judge, I say, do, and judge the same. Only, what we do, we must do quickly. You can better write than speak your mind. He stays here another week. Suppose you wrote him a letter (for me also to subscribe and deliver), and set before him some of the things which he hath done.

“1. He has set himself against us, almost from the beginning, counteracting us with our preachers, spiriting them up, poisoning, proselyting them to his own wretched notions.

“2. He has withstood the utmost efforts both you and I have used to make him our friend.

“3. He has stirred up persecution against us, and given such a wound to the cause as may never be healed. For of all the prejudices, bitterness, disaffection of both preachers and people, he is et caput et frons. Unless he says Joseph Cownley corrupted him, and he his brother Charles.

“4. To sum up all, and perpetuate his evil, he has sent forth his ‘Mitre,’ in open contradiction of all we have said, wrote, done from the beginning. If we say, the Church of Christ and England are but one, he says, the Church of Rome and England are but one. If we condemn lay administering, he attempts to justify and prove it. What Charles told Dr. Tucker, that he had not one sentiment in common with the Church of England, Ted might say with equal truth.

“At Canterbury, I saw our Sacrament Hymns, which Ted has scratched out and blotted, hardly leaving twenty entire lines. How can two walk together except they be agreed? How can he pretend to labour with us? He has no power over his own will or words. If, in a relenting fit, he promises us to be quiet, his vanity soon betrays him again into his old spirit and conversation.

“Let us try, with the help of God, whether we cannot hinder his doing further mischief. Things are come to this, that we must conquer or be conquered. My advice is: 1. That you write and insist upon his keeping his promise to us, by calling in and destroying his book. If he will part with that right eye, we may have some hope of him. 2. That he settle to something. He is unwilling to break with us—(1) Because he still in some sort loves us; (2) because he comes recommended by us to all our friends. But his own soul can never recover while he wanders from house to house in such a lounging way of life. Therefore, let him go home to his wife, and do as much good and as little harm as he can at Canterbury. Poor Mr. Lepine he had almost assimilated. I hope your late visit has set him right. I will join you in your kindest treatment of him; but make him not your companion or counsellor. Keep your absolute superiority, by steady, serious love. The same behaviour might suit his brother also. I have much more to say, but time and paper fail. When do you expect that your Notes will be out? I am half choked with a cold, yet setting out for the country. Farewell!

Charles Wesley.”

“To Mr. Windsor, in King Street,
Tower Hill, London, for J. W. with speed.”

Thus was Wesley badgered. It certainly was strange, that one of the fiercest attacks upon the Church of England, ever published, should be written by a Methodist itinerant preacher; and that the preacher should be the son of a man, who, at one time at least, was Wesley’s most confidential friend, Vincent Perronet; and further, that the writer should have lived on terms of the greatest intimacy with both Wesley and his brother. The book contains not a little which cannot be commended; but Charles Wesley’s opinion of its dulness and want of wit is preposterously opposed to fact. Charles was in a terrible fever of Church of England excitement; and all that he said and did, at this momentous period of Methodistic history, must be taken cum grano salis. Why Vincent Perronet was not consulted in these grave affairs we are left to guess.

Charles Wesley was most anxious to have the present preachers ordained, or otherwise attached to settled societies; and also to stop the employment of additional itinerants, or, at all events, without subjecting them to a most searching ordeal. On the other hand, his brother continued to employ them as usual; and, during this very year of 1756, called to the itinerant work five fresh labourers—William Allwood, John Catermole, Robert Gillespy, Thomas Greaves, and Matthew Lowes; while the only ones who left him were John Haughton, John Maddern, and James Morris.[284] Many, indeed most, of his preachers were without learning, but not without sense. They were thoroughly converted; and, though destitute of other knowledge, knew the Scriptures, and how to teach the gospel plan of salvation. In a letter, written at the close of the Bristol conference, Wesley says:—

“Bristol, August 31, 1756.

... “A careless reader of the Address may think I make it necessary for a minister to have much learning; and, thence, imagine I act inconsistently; seeing many of our preachers have no learning at all. But the answer is easy. First, I do not make any learning necessary even for a minister,—the minister of a parish, who, as such, undertakes single to guide and feed, to instruct and govern, that whole flock,—but the knowledge of the Scriptures; although many branches of learning are highly expedient for him. Secondly, these preachers are not ministers; none of them undertakes single the care of a whole flock; but ten, twenty, or thirty, one following and helping another; and all, under the direction of my brother and me, undertake jointly what (as I judge) no man in England is equal to alone.”[285]

In another letter, to Mr. Norton, he writes thus.

“Kingswood, September 3, 1756.

“My dear Brother,—In your letters of July, and August 27, you charge me first with self inconsistency, in tolerating lay preaching, and not lay administering; and, secondly, with showing a spirit of persecution, in denying my brethren the liberty of acting, as well as thinking, according to their own conscience.

“As to the former charge, the fact alleged is true; but it is not true, that I am self inconsistent in so doing. I tolerate lay preaching, because I conceive there is an absolute necessity for it, inasmuch as, were it not, thousands of souls would perish everlastingly; yet I do not tolerate lay administering, because I do not conceive there is any such necessity for it; seeing it does not appear, that, if this is not at all, one soul will perish for want of it.

“As to the latter charge, I again allow the fact; but deny the consequence. I mean, I allow the fact thus far; some of our preachers, who are not ordained, think it quite right to administer the Lord’s supper, and believe it would do much good. I think it quite wrong, and believe it would do much hurt. Hereupon I say: ‘I have no right over your conscience, nor you over mine; therefore, both you and I must follow our own conscience. You believe it is a duty to administer do so; and therein follow your own conscience. I verily believe it is a sin; which consequently I dare not tolerate; and herein I follow mine,’ Yet, this is no persecution, were I to separate from our society, (which I have not done yet,) those who practise what I believe is contrary to the word, and destructive of the work, of God.

“If John Jones, my brother, or any other preacher, has preached sharply on this head, I certainly am a stranger to it, and therefore not answerable for it. I persecute no man on this account, or any other; and yet, I cannot consent, that any of our lay preachers should either preach predestination, or administer the sacraments, to those who are under my care.

“But after all this pother, What is this persecution, concerning which you make so loud an outcry? Why, some of our lay preachers did what we thought was both ill in itself, and likely to do much harm among the people. Of this, complaint was made to me. And what did I do? Did I expel those preachers out of the community? Not so. Did I forbid them to preach any more? Not so neither. Did I degrade them from itinerant to local preachers? Not so much as this. I told them, I thought the thing was wrong, and would do hurt, and therefore advised them to do it no more. Certainly this is a new species of persecution! You might as well call it murder. I have used no arbitrary, no coercive power; nay, no power at all in this matter, but that of love. I have given no man an ill word or an ill look on that account. I have not withdrawn my confidence or my conversation from any. I have dealt with every man as, if the tables were turned, I should desire he would deal with me.

“I am, your affectionate brother,

“John Wesley.”[286]

We add only one more extract on this subject.

“London, September 10, 1756.

“Reverend Sir,—Concerning diocesan episcopacy, there are several questions I should be glad to have answered. 1. Where is it prescribed in Scripture? How does it appear, that the apostles settled it in all the churches they planted? How does it appear, that they settled it in any, as to make it of perpetual obligation? It is allowed, ‘Christ and His apostles did put the churches under some form of government or other’; but, (1) Did they put all churches under the same precise form? If they did, (2) Can we prove this to have been the very same which now remains in the Church of England?

“I am very far from being ‘quite indifferent to any man’s opinions in religion’; neither do I ‘conceal my sentiments.’ Few men less. I have written severally, and printed, against deists, papists, mystics, quakers, anabaptists, presbyterians, Calvinists, and antinomians. An odd way of ingratiating myself with them! Nevertheless, in all things indifferent, but not at the expense of truth, I rejoice to please all men for their good to edification.

“I have humoured you, so as to dispute with you a little; but with what probability of success? What man of threescore (unless perchance one in an age) was ever convinced of anything? Is not an old man’s motto, Non persuadebis etiamsi persuaseris? When we are past middle age, does not a kind of stiffness and inflexibility steal upon the mind as well as the body? And how does this bar the gate against all conviction! O sir, what an idle thing is it for you to dispute about lay preachers! Is not a lay preacher preferable to a drunken preacher? to a cursing, swearing preacher?

“Yours, etc.,

“John Wesley.”[287]

These are long extracts; perhaps, in the opinion of some, too long; but it must be borne in mind, that the subject of lay preaching, and of separation from the Established Church, was one of the weightiest questions with which Wesley had to deal. For nearly fifty years, it occasioned him the utmost anxiety. Besides, there is no point upon which he has been more misunderstood than this. It is one which excites more interest now than it did even a century ago. It is high time that the controversy was settled. To help in doing this, we have collected all the facts with which we are acquainted. They have been stated with the utmost honesty. Comment would be easy; it is even tempting; but the reader can form his own opinions on the facts presented, and can comment for himself. All must agree, however, that Wesley was very far from being as rigid a Churchman as was his brother Charles, and as the clergy of the present day wish us to believe. This is a subject which will, again and again, demand attention.

On September 6, Wesley left Bristol for London, where he continued reading, writing, publishing, and preaching till the year was ended. Two days were spent in, what he calls, “settling his temporal business,” the result of which was the following entry in his journal: “It is now about eighteen years since I begun writing and printing books; and how much in that time have I gained by printing? Why, on summing up my accounts, I found that, on March 1, 1756, I had gained, by printing and preaching together, a debt of £1236.”

On September 10, he writes: “I preached at a famous place, commonly called ‘The Bull and Mouth meeting’; which had belonged, I suppose, near a hundred years, to the people called Quakers. As much of real religion as was ever preached there, I trust will be preached there still; and perhaps in a more rational, scriptural, and intelligible manner.”

A month later, he says: “I preached to a huge multitude in Moorfields, on ‘Why will ye die, O house of Israel?’ It is field preaching which does the execution still; for usefulness there is none comparable to it.”

Among other books, he read the following: “The case of Marriages between near Kindred particularly considered, with respect to the Doctrine of Scripture, the Law of Nature, and the Laws of England.” By John Fry. 8vo, 146 pages. “It is,” says he, “the best tract I ever read upon the subject; I suppose the best that is extant. And two points, I think, he has fully proved: (1) That many marriages, commonly supposed to be unlawful, are neither contrary to the law of nature, nor the revealed law of God, nor the law of the land. (2) That ecclesiastical courts have no right to meddle with any case of this kind.” Twenty-nine years afterwards, Wesley read the same work again, and wrote: “I wonder it is not more known, as there is nothing on the head like it in the English tongue. I still think, he has proved, to a demonstration, that no marriages are forbidden, either by the law of God or of England, but those of brothers and sisters, and those in the ascending and descending line.” Wesley’s opinion on this subject is not without interest, especially at the present day, when discussion is rife respecting the propriety of repealing the law of the land which renders null and void the marriage of a man to his deceased wife’s sister. Fry was strongly in favour of such marriages, and Wesley endorsed the soundness of his arguments. In doing that, Wesley showed that, rather than sacrifice what he considered right and true, he was willing to be branded as a heterodox son of that church, which, by “the most reverend father in God, Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury,” had issued an “Admonition,” prohibiting all matrimonial alliances of this description.

Another book he read was Voltaire’s “Henriade.” He remarks: “Voltaire is a very lively writer, of a fine imagination; and allowed, I suppose, by all competent judges, to be a perfect master of the French language; and, by him, I am more than ever convinced, that the French is the poorest, meanest language in Europe; that it is no more comparable to the German or Spanish, than a bagpipe is to an organ; and that, with regard to poetry in particular, considering the incorrigible uncouthness of their measure, and their always writing in rhyme, it is as impossible to write a fine poem in French, as to make fine music upon a jew’s harp.”

Wesley also read a “Dissertation in Defence of the Hebrew Points,” by Leusden, the eminent professor of Hebrew and Jewish antiquities at Utrecht, and says: “I was fully convinced, there is, at least, as much to be said on this as on the other side of the question. But how is it, that men are so positive on both sides, while demonstration is to be had on neither?”

The reading of Leusden was, doubtless, intended as a preparation for the reading of another author, whose works were then attracting great attention. John Hutchinson was born at Spennythorn, in Yorkshire, in 1674. He was a man of undoubted genius; and, among other things, invented a chronometer, for the discovery of the longitude at sea, an instrument which obtained the approbation of Sir Isaac Newton. He is chiefly known, however, as the founder of a system of theology and philosophy, based on a fanciful etymology of Hebrew words. He held, that the Old Testament Scriptures were written in Hebrew without points; that this was the language of paradise; and that every Hebrew root has some important meaning, and is designed to signify spiritual and mental things. In this way, Hutchinson turned history into prophecy, and made Scripture sentences to mean what they were never meant to mean, and what they were incapable of meaning. He died in 1737; and, in 1748, his ingenious but fanciful productions were published in twelve volumes octavo, and obtained not a few admirers, including, among others, Dr. Samuel Clarke and Bishop Horne.

For some reason, Wesley began to read Mr. Hutchinson’s philosophy with all the itinerant preachers at that time assembled in London; but says, he was not able to admire either “his sense or his spirit. His hypothesis was unsupported by Scripture; very ingenious, but quite precarious. When Dr. Bentley published his Greek Testament, one remarked: ‘Pity but he would publish the Old; then we should have two New Testaments!’ It is done. Those who receive Mr. Hutchinson’s emendations certainly have two New Testaments! In order to learn all I could from his works, I read over the Glasgow abridgment with Mr. Thomas Walsh, the best Hebrean I ever knew. I never asked him the meaning of a Hebrew word but he would tell me how often it occurred in the Bible, and what it meant in each place! We both observed, that Mr. Hutchinson’s whole scheme is built upon etymologies; the most uncertain foundation in the world. We observed, secondly, that, if the points be allowed, all his building sinks at once; and, thirdly, that, setting them aside, many of his etymologies are forced and unnatural. Mr. Hutchinson affirms, the points were invented by the Masorites, only thirteen or fourteen hundred years ago, in order to destroy the sense of Scripture. I doubt this: who can prove it? Who can prove they were not as old as Ezra, if not coeval with the language? Let any one give a fair reading only to what Dr. Cornelius Bayley has offered in the preface to his Hebrew Grammar, and he will be as sick of reading without the points as I am.”[288]

During his autumnal sojourn in the metropolis, Wesley took to task the editor of the Monthly Review, for “jumbling together, and condemning by the lump, the whole body of people called Methodists,” the Moravians being bound up in the branded bundle. He also wrote a long letter, under the date of October 15, to his old friend Mr. Hervey, pointing out the excellencies and defects of his “Dialogues between Theron and Aspasio.” “In the first dialogue, there are several just and strong observations, which may be of use to every serious reader.” “The description in the second is often too laboured, and the language too stiff and affected; but the reflections on the creation make abundant amends for this.” “The third and fourth dialogues contain an admirable illustration and confirmation of the great doctrine of Christ’s satisfaction; yet there are a few passages liable to exception.” In the fifth and sixth dialogues, the author unnecessarily contends for the imputation of Christ’s righteousness. “The seventh and eighth are full of important truths”; but contain sentiments and expressions to which Wesley cannot yield assent. “The ninth proves excellently well, that we cannot be justified by our works.” The tenth contains several passages to which he takes exception. The eleventh proves, by irrefragable arguments, the doctrine of original sin, and has not a single sentence liable to objection. “The twelfth, likewise, is unexceptionable; and contains,” says he, “such an illustration of the wisdom of God in the structure of the human body, as, I believe, cannot be paralleled in either ancient or modern writers.” “The former part of the thirteenth dialogue is admirable;” to the latter he had some objection.

In the same style and spirit, he criticises the “Letters,” and thus concludes his critique, which fills eighteen printed pages.

“Upon the whole, I cannot but wish, that the plan of these dialogues had been executed in a different manner. Most of the grand truths of Christianity are herein both explained and proved with great strength and clearness. Why was anything intermixed which could prevent any serious Christian’s recommending them to all mankind? anything which must necessarily render them exceptionable to so many thousands of the children of God? In practical writings, I studiously abstain from the very shadow of controversy. Nay, even in controversial, I do not willingly write one line, to which any but my opponent would object. For opinions, shall I destroy the work of God? Then am I a bigot indeed. Much more, if I would not drop any mode of expression rather than offend either Jew, or Gentile, or the church of God.

“I am, with sincerity, dear sir,

“Your affectionate brother and servant,

“John Wesley.”[289]

Hervey did not reply to this, but, a few years later, Wesley’s letter led to great unpleasantness, which will have to be introduced hereafter. Hervey died in 1758. Wesley lost one friend, but gained another, in some respects his superior. John Fletcher wrote to him, on November 24, 1756, as his “spiritual guide,” asking his advice respecting his entering into orders. He tells him that, seven years ago, when first converted, he resolved to dedicate himself to the service of the church, and prosecuted study with that design. Feeling himself, however, unequal to the burden of ministerial responsibilities, and “disgusted by the necessity he should be under to subscribe to the doctrine of predestination, he yielded to the desire of his friends, who wished him to go into the army.” The disappointments with which he met occasioned his leaving Switzerland, and coming to England. “Here he was thrice called outwardly to enter into orders”; but had hitherto been prevented. Six weeks ago, a gentleman had offered him a living, and a clergyman a title. The living he intended to decline, as, he thought, he “could preach with more fruit in his own country and in his own tongue”; but he wishes Wesley to decide for him, “whether he can and must make use of the offered title to go into orders. I know,” says he, “how precious is your time. I desire no long answer; persist, or forbear, will satisfy and influence, sir, your unworthy servant, John Fletcher.”[290]

Wesley said, “Persist,” and, within four months afterwards, the young Swiss, in the twenty-eighth year of his age, was ordained, at Whitehall, London; and, “on the same day, being informed that Wesley had no one to help him at West Street chapel, he left as soon as the ordination was over, and assisted him in the administration of the Lord’s supper.”[291] Wesley writes: “How wonderful are the ways of God! When my bodily strength failed, and none in England were able and willing to assist me, He sent me help from the mountains of Switzerland; and a helpmeet for me in every respect: where could I have found such another?”

Thus began the lifelong friendship of these distinguished men; and thus commenced the renowned ministry of the vicar of Madeley.

On the 13th of December, 1756, young Fletcher sent to Wesley a most interesting letter, of which the following is an extract.

“Sir,—Whenever I have received the sacrament in your chapels, though I admired the order and decency observed, I thought there was something wanting, which might make that awful part of the Divine worship still more profitable and solemn.

“As the number of communicants is generally very great, the time spent in receiving is long enough for many to feel their devotion languish for want of outward fuel. In order to prevent this, you interrupt, from time to time, the service of the table, to put up a short prayer, or to sing a verse or two of a hymn; and I do not doubt but many have found the benefit of that method. But as you can spare very little time, you are obliged to be satisfied with scattering these few drops, instead of a continual rain. Sir, would not this want be easily supplied, if you were to appoint the preachers, who may be present, to do what you cannot possibly do yourself, to pray and sing without interruption, as at a watch night?

“I take the liberty of giving you this hint, because you said lately in the society, that you heard willingly the observations of your people, and were ready to follow or improve them, if they were just or reasonable.

“I am, sir, your unworthy servant,

“John Fletcher.”[292]

Nothing now remains but to briefly notice Wesley’s publications in 1756. They were as follows.

1. “An Extract of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Journal, from July 20, 1749, to October 30, 1751.” 12mo, 107 pages.

2. “A Treatise on Baptism,” dated November 11, 1756. This was his father’s “Short Discourse on Baptism,” published in 1700. It is true, that Wesley has slightly abridged and verbally altered his father’s work, but that is all; and yet he makes not the least reference whatever to its original author. In these days of sacramental controversy, it is only fair to give an extract.

“By baptism, we, who were ‘by nature children of wrath,’ are made the children of God. And this regeneration, which our Church, in so many places, ascribes to baptism, is more than barely being admitted into the church, though commonly connected therewith; being ‘grafted into the body of Christ’s church, we are made the children of God by adoption and grace.’ This is grounded on the plain words of our Lord: ‘Except a man be born again of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.’ By water then, as a means, the water of baptism, we are regenerated or born again. Herein a principle of grace is infused, which will not be wholly taken away, unless we quench the Holy Spirit of God by long continued wickedness.”

This is strong, and somewhat startling language, and yet not really stronger than Wesley uses in his sermon on the New Birth: “It is certain our Church supposes, that all who are baptized in their infancy are, at the same time, born again; and it is allowed, that the whole Office for the Baptism of Infants proceeds upon this supposition. Nor is it an objection of any weight against this, that we cannot comprehend how this work can be wrought in infants. For neither can we comprehend how it is wrought in a person of riper years.”[293] It is true, that, in the same sermon, Wesley lays it down, that “baptism and the new birth are not one and the same thing, the one being an external, and the other an internal work”; and he also asserts, that “it is sure all of riper years who are baptized are not at the same time born again”; but, in reference to infants, he unquestionably held the high church doctrine of his father. It is no part of our proposed task either to justify or to condemn this opinion; our sole object is honestly to relate facts.

3. “The Good Soldier, extracted from a Sermon preached to a company of volunteers raised in Virginia, August 17, 1755.” 12mo, 16 pages. The publication was doubtless occasioned by the threatened invasion of England, by the French, at the beginning of the year, when Wesley himself proposed to raise “for his majesty’s service a body of at least two hundred volunteers.”

4. “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. Law, occasioned by some of his late writings.” 8vo, 102 pages. This has never been entirely reprinted, an extract only being given in Wesley’s collected works.

Strangely enough, William Law,—a man of almost unequalled power and eloquence,—had become a Behmenite. Jacob Behmen, the “German theosophist,” was born of poor parents, in 1575. At the age of ten, he was apprenticed to a shoemaker; at nineteen, he became a master, and was married. At twenty-five, he fell into a trance, which lasted for seven days, and afforded him an intuitive vision of God. This was followed by others, in which his spirit was carried to the inmost world of nature, and was enabled to penetrate through the outward forms of bodies into their inward essences. At the age of thirty-seven, he began to publish his mysteries. He died in 1624, aged forty-nine. It is impossible, in a work like this, to give even the merest outline of the enthusiastic conceptions, visions, and revelations of this inventive German genius,—a motley mixture of mystical jargon, a jumble of astrological, philosophical, chemical, and theological extravagances, which he himself acknowledges no one can understand except those who have obtained illumination like his own. William Law was one of his warmest admirers, and had already published an English edition of his works in two vols., quarto.

This melancholy fact will account for the severity of Wesley’s language in the letter he addressed to Law in 1756. Wesley begins by stating, that “there are few writers in the present age, who stand in any comparison with Mr. Law, as to beauty and strength of language; readiness, liveliness, and copiousness of thought; and, in many points, accuracy of sentiment.” He acknowledges, that Law had “long employed his uncommon abilities, not to gain either honour or preferment, but to promote the glory of God, and peace and goodwill among men.” “Several of his treatises, particularly his ‘Christian Perfection,’ and ‘Serious Call,’ must remain, as long as England stands, almost unequalled standards of the strength and purity of the English language, as well as of sound, practical divinity”; and had been of immense service “in reviving and establishing true, rational, scriptural religion” among the people. Some of his late writings, however, were not of this meritorious order; and these Wesley proceeds to criticise. Law once said to Wesley, “You would have a philosophical religion; but there can be no such thing. Religion is the most plain, simple thing in the world. It is only, ‘We love Him, because He first loved us.’ So far as you add philosophy to religion, just so far you spoil it.” Wesley now retorts, and tells him there is no “writer in England, who so continually blends philosophy with religion” as himself; and, to make things worse, his philosophy is “uncertain, dangerous, irrational, and unscriptural.” “Bad philosophy, by insensible degrees, paves the way for bad divinity.” He had also done Jacob Behmen “an irreparable injury by dragging him out of his awful obscurity, and by pouring light upon his venerable darkness. Men,” says he, “may admire the deepness of the well, and the excellence of the water it contains; but, if some officious person puts a light into it, it will appear to be both very shallow and very dirty.” He concludes:—

“I have now delivered my own soul. And I have used great plainness of speech; such as I could not have prevailed on myself to use to one whom I so much respect, on any other occasion. Oh that your latter works may be more and greater than your first! Surely they would, if you could ever be persuaded to study, instead of the writings of Tauler and Behmen, those of St. Paul, James, Peter, and John; to spew out of your mouth and out of your heart that vain philosophy, and speak neither higher nor lower things, neither more nor less, than the oracles of God; to renounce, despise, abhor all the highflown bombast, all the unintelligible jargon of the mystics, and come back to the plain religion of the Bible, ‘We love Him, because He first loved us.’”

This was strong language to employ to a man like William Law, who held Jacob Behmen, the Crispin theosophist, in amazing admiration; but it was not unmerited. Whitefield pronounced Wesley’s letter “a most ungentlemanlike, injudicious, unchristian piece”;[294] but Whitefield was not so well acquainted with the Behmenite fooleries as Wesley was. Law himself was annoyed and angry, but declined to answer Wesley’s critique, on the ground, that it did “not admit of a serious answer, because there was nothing substantial or properly argumentative in it; and to answer it, in the way of ridicule,” was a thing to which he was unconquerably averse. “Mr. Wesley,” says he, “is an ingenious man, and the reason why his letter to me is such a juvenile composition of emptiness and pertness, is because it was not ability, but necessity, that put his pen into his hand. He had condemned my books, preached much against them, and forbad his people the use of them. And, for a cover to all this, he promised, from time to time, to write against them. Therefore, an answer was to be made at all adventures.[295] I was once a kind of oracle with him; and I never suspected anything bad of him, or ever discovered any kind or degree of falseness in him; but, during all the time of his intimacy with me, I judged him to be much under the power of his own spirit. Still, whatever you hear of Mr. John Wesley concerning me, or my books, let it die with you; and wish him God speed in everything that is good.”[296]

Here the controversy between Wesley and this exceedingly able and godly, though mistaken, man terminated. Five years afterwards, Mr. Law exchanged this world, where the wisest sees “through a glass, darkly,” for a higher world, where all “see face to face.”

5. The last of Wesley’s publications, in 1756, which we have to notice, was not the least important, though an octavo tract of only thirty pages. The title was, “An Address to the Clergy.” While addressed to the clergy of the Church of England especially, it was also addressed to all of every denomination, whom God had “called to watch over souls, as they that must give account.” First of all, Wesley considers what ministers ought to be, in gifts as well as in grace, 1. A minister ought to have a good understanding. 2. Some liveliness and readiness of thought. 3. A good memory. 4. Knowledge of his own office; of the Scriptures; of Hebrew and Greek; of profane history; of the sciences, including logic; of metaphysics; of natural philosophy; of geometry; of the fathers. 5. Common sense. 6. Good breeding. 7. A strong, clear, musical voice, and a good delivery. In reference to grace, Wesley contends that a minister must have: (1) A single intention to glorify God, and to save souls; (2) an eminent measure of love to God, and to all his brethren; (3) he must be an example to his flock, in his private and public character.

The second part of the pamphlet is devoted to the inquiry, Are ministers what they ought to be? Wesley strongly denounces the old adage: “The boy, if he is fit for nothing else, will do well enough for a parson.” Acting upon this had introduced “dull, heavy, blockish ministers; the jest of every pert fool, and of every airy coxcomb that they met.” Men entering the ministry for honour, or for income, are pronounced many degrees beneath Simon Magus, who instead of seeking the gift of God to get money, offered money to obtain the gift. “What a creature,” he writes, “is a covetous, an ambitious, a luxurious, an indolent, a diversion loving clergyman! Is it any wonder that infidelity should increase, where any of these are found?”

In the publication of this pamphlet, Wesley probably aimed at a twofold object:—1. To give a new impulse to the Church of England, to awaken its dormant zeal, to infuse life into its lifeless ministers; and thus prevent the necessity of a separation. 2. To curb the ambition of his own lay preachers, by setting before them a ministerial standard, of which, in some respects, most of them fell immeasurably short. Was this object realised? This is a question which succeeding chapters will help to answer. At present, it is only fair to add, that it is somewhat difficult to reconcile Wesley’s pamphlet with Wesley’s letter already given, bearing date, August 31, 1756.

Wesley’s “Address to the Clergy” was not left to pass unchallenged.

William Law, still smarting from Wesley’s castigation, remarks in a letter, dated April 10, 1757: “Wesley’s Babylonish ‘Address to the Clergy’ is empty babble, fitter for an old grammarian, who has grown blear eyed in mending dictionaries, than for one who has tasted the powers of the world to come, and has found the truth as it is in Jesus.”[297] Alas! William Law!

An unknown clergyman also issued a sixpenny pamphlet, entitled, “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, occasioned by his Address to the Clergy. By one of the Clergy.” The writer accuses Wesley of spiritual pride and presumption, and adduces extracts to support his charge; but, in all other respects, the production is unimportant. Another tract, however, of the same size, was published a few months later, and is more puzzling. “An Expostulatory Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, occasioned by his Address to the Clergy,” begins thus:—“We, W. B., G. C., J. M., etc., do, in behalf of ourselves and many others, who, by your appointment, instigation, or encouragement, have undertaken to preach the gospel of Christ, beg leave, in the spirit of meekness and love, to expostulate with you.” And then these pretending disciples proceed very shrewdly to attack, not only the “Address,” but likewise Wesley’s late translation of the New Testament. Was this a genuine production? We cannot tell. If not spurious, it was of great importance.