The life and times of the Rev. John Wesley, M.A., founder of the Methodists. Vol. 2 (of 3)

by L. Tyerman

1761.

1761
Age 58

UPON the whole, the reign of the second George had been a prosperous one. Money was plentiful; waste lands were cultivated; mines were opened; and the exports of the country doubled. But still, the population of England and Wales was only about six millions, one half of whom were living on barley and oaten cakes.

Lord Holland was now at the zenith of his fame, a man of distinguished talent, but a gambler, and of no fixed principles, either of religion or of morals. William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, was premier, his eye armed with lightning, and his lips clothed with thunder. Lord Bute was plotting to become his successor. Secker, the son of a Dissenter, had recently been made primate. Newton, soon afterwards bishop of Bristol, was publishing his Dissertations on the Prophecies. Lowth had given to the public his Lectures on Hebrew Poetry, and was rising into literary reputation. Beilby Porteus was a young man, just becoming popular. Kennicott was collecting sacred manuscripts. William Dodd was already the idol of the London populace. The learned and pious Horne was working his way to the see of Norwich; and Horsley, afterwards bishop of St. Asaph, had just been appointed to the rectory of Newington. Robert Robinson had recently commenced his ministry at Cambridge. Dr. Gill was publishing his ponderous folios of Calvinistic divinity. Towgood was educating young dissenting ministers; and Job Orton was writing his Exposition of the Scriptures. Shenstone, Akenside, Gray, Collins, and Goldsmith were among the chief poets of the period. John Harrison was completing the chronometer, which obtained him a parliamentary reward of £20,000. John Dollond was constructing telescopes; Thomas Simpson was lecturing on mathematics; and James Ferguson on stars. James Brindley was executing the great Bridgewater canal; and Hogarth, Reynolds, and Gainsborough were making pictures almost breathe. Macklin, Foote, and Garrick were the idols of the pleasure loving world. These are a few of the distinguished men who lived and flourished at the commencement of the reign of King George III.

Perhaps we are justified in saying that, from this period, literature in England became more than ever a distinct profession. Persons of all ranks, including ladies like Madame D’Arblay, Mrs. Hannah More, Miss Seward, and Mrs. Barbauld, turned authors. Johnson poured forth his sonorous eloquence. Burke issued his brilliant pamphlets. Adam Smith wrote his Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations; and Reid, his Essays on the Intellectual Powers; Campbell, his Dissertations on Miracles; Robertson, his Histories; and Gibbon, his Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

Other distinguished names belonging to the last thirty years of Wesley’s life might be mentioned,—as Blair the rhetorician, Sir William Jones the linguist, Herschel the astronomer, Hutton the geologist, Hunter the anatomist, Banks the naturalist, Cook the navigator, Howard the philanthropist; Crabbe, Rogers, and Burns the poets; Watt the engineer, Arkwright the cotton spinner, Wedgwood the potter, Wyatt the architect, and Bruce the traveller. England was awaking into unwonted life.

It is impossible, in a work like this, to give even the barest outline of the great political events of the first thirty years of the reign of George III. War committed fearful havoc. Politics were in bitterest confusion. The Earl of Bute, cold, stiff, and unconciliating, was the subject of numberless caricatures, lampoons, and squibs. The popularity of Pitt, the patriot minister, was partially obscured with mists and clouds, while his friends and partisans extolled him in the highest terms of eulogy. The Duke of Newcastle, after occupying a seat in the English cabinet for five-and-thirty years, had to retire, in comparative poverty, to the dreary mansion of an ex-minister. Terrible were the contentions in parliament, respecting the American rebellion, the stamp act, and other matters. The political horizon was alarmingly threatening, and the period was almost a continuous thunderstorm.

In a moral point of view, the state of the nation was deplorable. Wesley had, under God, begun a reformation; but that was all. The upper and the middle classes were revelling in luxury; the poor often were in a state of starvation. Wilkes, Lord Sandwich, Sir Francis Dashwood, and other fashionable rakes, were notoriously living in the worst private excesses, and in Palace Yard were indulging in all the frowsy indecencies of the Dilettante club, and at Medmenham Abbey were practising the mysteries, obscenities, and mockeries of the Hell Fire club of the Duke of Wharton’s days. Warburton, bishop of Gloucester, declared that “the blackest fiend in hell would not keep company with Wilkes on his arrival there”; and yet, mournful to relate, Wilkes was the popular hero of the London populace. The sabbath was the day for routs among the nobility and gentry; and political ministers, foreign and domestic, being too busy on other days, gave their grand entertainments on this. Gambling, though not so rampant as it had been, was still a prevailing vice. Rakes were plentiful. Seeing life meant keeping all sorts of company; drinking much, and appearing great; swearing in fashionable language, and singing licentious songs; the being impious in morals and wanton in debaucheries; learned in obscenity and skilled in wickedness; spending the night at Vauxhall or Ranelagh; and then reeling through the streets, at early dawn, like a beau of the first magnitude, breaking windows and wrenching knockers; and, at last, finishing a drunken frolic in being carried, either home or to the lock up, speechless, senseless, and motionless. Reckless extravagance was general. The mansions, furniture, tables, equipages, gardens, clothes, plate, and jewels of the nobility were as gorgeous as wealth could make them. Young tradesmen had their country houses, drove their carriages, and, to a ruinous extent, left the management of their business to their servants. Dress was ludicrously expensive. The upper classes indulged in their brocades, laces, velvets, satins, and silver tassels; and even the sons of mechanics sported their gold buttons, high quartered shoes, scarlet waistcoats, and doeskin breeches. But, perhaps, the most absurd of all was the ladies’ powdered head-dress; curled, frizzled, and stuffed with wool; and pinned, greased, and worked up into an immense protuberance, which, for months, put it out of the lady’s power to comb her head, and created an effluvia of not the most pleasant odour, and gave birth to animalculæ which ladies could have done well enough without.

The country, if not so flagrantly wicked as the town, was, notwithstanding, steeped in ignorance and sin. There were thousands of godly people, but the bulk of the population were little better than baptized barbarians. The clergy, in many instances, were lazy, or drunken, or non resident. Numbers of them were most miserably paid, and had to practise meannesses to eke out insufficient incomes. Others were more fond of preaching over pewter pots, in dirty alehouses, than of preaching in their pulpits, or of visiting their flocks. Others revelled amid all the luxuries of a fat benefice, leaving the duties of their parishes to young, half starved curates, who had to live on the mere gleanings of their master’s vintage; and others had a far greater penchant for persecuting Methodists than for saving souls.

It may be said that these remarks are extravagant; they are simply defective; that is all. Let the candid reader peruse the histories of the period, and especially its broadsheets, magazines, newspapers, essays, and other periodicals, and he will readily acknowledge, that facts are not misstated, nor pictures overdrawn.

Methodism had begun its mission; but who will say it was no longer needed? It is time to return to its chief actors.

Charles Wesley and Whitefield were both in ill health during the year 1761, and were, to a great extent, laid aside from public labours; but Wesley himself was, if possible, more active than ever.

He began the year in London, by writing letters to the newspapers. He had been to Newgate prison, once one of the darkest “seats of woe on this side hell”; but now he found it “clean and sweet as any gentleman’s house.” There was no fighting, no quarrelling, no cheating, no drunkenness, and no whoredom, as there used to be; and all this he attributes to the “keeper,” who “deserved to be remembered full as well as the Man of Ross.”

In the Westminster Journal, Wesley replied to a correspondent, who had represented Methodism as “an ungoverned spirit of enthusiasm, propagated by knaves, and embraced by fools.” By it, “the decency of religion had been perverted, the peace of families had been ruined, and the minds of the vulgar darkened to a total neglect of their civil and social duties.” Wesley says: “I am almost ashamed to spend time upon these threadbare objections, which have been answered over and over. But if they are advanced again, they must be answered again, lest silence should pass for guilt.”

His first journey, in 1761, was an excursion to Norwich, extending from January 9 to February 7. One Sunday he spent at Everton, where he preached twice for his friend Berridge. Ash Wednesday he divided between Berridge at Everton and Hicks at Wrestlingworth. “Few,” says he, “are now affected as at first, the greater part having found peace with God. But there is a gradual increasing of the work in the souls of many believers.”

At Norwich, Wesley found about three hundred and thirty persons who professed to meet in class; but “many of them were as bullocks unaccustomed to the yoke.” “All jealousies,” however, “and misunderstandings were vanished; but how long,” he asks, “will they continue so, considering the unparalleled fickleness of the people in these parts?”

Returning to London, Wesley spent some days in visiting the classes, and ascertained that, after leaving out one hundred and sixty “to whom he could do no good at present,” there were still in the London society 2375 members. His reason for excluding the 160 is exceedingly indefinite. Were they immoral? If so, why could not Wesley be of use to them? Were they consistent Christians, but, by some means, beyond Wesley’s reach? Perhaps they were; but if so, while such a reason might be sufficient for removing them from membership with a mere society, it was insufficient for removing them from the church of Christ.

The life of Wesley was full of anxiety. It could hardly be otherwise. A man cannot be the leader of a great movement without incurring great responsibilities. Wesley had had to settle many a hard question already. In 1760 and succeeding years he had another. He had shocked the prejudices of his clerical brethren by appointing unordained men to preach; now he had to decide whether women should be allowed to exercise the same sacred function. Sarah Crosby, a godly female, left London for Derby, at the commencement of 1761, and began to meet classes with great success. On February 8, when she expected a class of about thirty persons, she found, to her surprise, a congregation of about two hundred. She writes: “I found an awful, loving sense of the Lord’s presence. I was not sure whether it was right for me to exhort in so public a manner; and, yet, I saw it impracticable to meet all these people by way of speaking particularly to each individual. I therefore gave out a hymn, and prayed, and told them part of what the Lord had done for myself, persuading them to flee from sin.”[419] On the Friday following, she did the same to another equally large congregation; and says: “My soul was much comforted in speaking to the people, as my Lord has removed all my scruples respecting the propriety of my acting thus publicly.”

This was a startling step to take. The new preacheress wrote to Wesley on the subject; and he answered her as follows.

“London, February 14, 1761.

“My dear Sister,—Miss —— gave me yours on Wednesday night. Hitherto, I think you have not gone too far. You could not well do less. I apprehend all you can do more is, when you meet again, to tell them simply, ‘You lay me under a great difficulty. The Methodists do not allow of women preachers; neither do I take upon me any such character. But I will just nakedly tell you what is in my heart.’ This will, in a great measure, obviate the grand objection, and prepare for J. Hampson’s coming. I do not see, that you have broken any law. Go on calmly and steadily. If you have time, you may read to them the Notes on any chapter before you speak a few words; or one of the most awakening sermons, as other women have done long ago.

“The work of God goes on mightily here, both in conviction and conversion. This morning, I have spoken with four or five who seem to have been set at liberty within this month. I believe, within five weeks, six in one class have received remission of sins, and five in one band received a second blessing. Peace be with you all! I am your affectionate brother,

“John Wesley.”[420]

Such was the commencement of female preaching among the Methodists; a thing never formally sanctioned by Wesley’s conference, but which was practised to the end of Wesley’s life. Sarah Crosby continued preaching till her death, in 1804; and, in this, she was imitated by Hannah Harrison, Miss Bosanquet, Miss Horral, Miss Newman, Mary Barrett, and others. To say the least, Wesley connived at it, as we shall have other opportunities of seeing.

On the 9th of March, Wesley set out on his long journey to the north, which occupied nearly the next six months. Taking High Wycombe and Oxford on his way, he came to Evesham, where he “found the poor shattered society almost sunk into nothing.” At Birmingham, the room was far too small for the congregation. At Wednesbury, he preached to eight or ten thousand people in a field. Arriving at Wolverhampton, he writes: “None had yet preached abroad in this furious town; but I was resolved, with God’s help, to make a trial, and ordered a table to be set in the inn yard. Such a number of wild men I have seldom seen; but they gave me no disturbance, either while I preached, or when I afterwards walked through the midst of them.”

Wesley proceeded to Dudley, Bilbrook, Burslem, Congleton, Macclesfield, Manchester, and Leeds. At the last mentioned town, he held a sort of conference. He writes: “I had desired all the preachers in those parts to meet me; and a happy meeting we had, both in the evening and morning. I afterwards inquired into the state of the societies in Yorkshire and Lincolnshire. I find the work of God increases on every side; but particularly in Lincolnshire, where there has been no work like this, since the time I preached at Epworth on my father’s tomb. In the afternoon, I talked with several who believe they are saved from sin; and, after a close examination, I found reason to hope that fourteen of them are not deceived. In the evening, I expounded 1 Corinthians xiii., and exhorted all to weigh themselves in that balance, and see if they were not ‘found wanting.’”

Leaving Leeds, Wesley returned on March 25 to Manchester, where, he says, “I met the believers, and strongly exhorted them to go on unto perfection. To many it seemed a new doctrine. However, they all received it in love; and a flame was kindled, which, I trust, neither men nor devils shall ever be able to quench.”

From Manchester, he went to Chester and other places, and then to Liverpool, Bolton, Whitehaven, etc.; after which, he, on April 27, crossed Solway Frith, and entered Scotland; but here we must pause to insert extracts from his correspondence.

The first letter was addressed to the Rev. Mr. G——; and is possessed of considerable interest as casting light on the real antinomian Methodists; and as showing what Wesley considered to be the most strongly marked feature of his numerous writings.

“April 2, 1761.

“Reverend Sir,—I have no desire to dispute: least of all with one whom I believe to fear God and work righteousness. And I have no time to spare. Yet I think it my duty to write a few lines, with regard to those you sent to Mr. Bennet.

“You therein say, ‘I know numbers, who call themselves Methodists, and assert their assurance of salvation, at the very time they wallow in sins of the deepest dye.’

“Permit me, sir, to speak freely. I do not doubt the fact. But (1) those who are connected with me do not call themselves Methodists. Others call them by that nickname, and they cannot help it; but I continually warn them not to pin it upon themselves. (2) We rarely use that ambiguous expression, ‘Christ’s righteousness imputed to us.’ (3) We believe a man may be a real Christian, without being ‘assured of his salvation.’ (4) We know no man can be ‘assured of his salvation’ while he lives in any sin whatever. (5) The wretches who talk in that manner are neither Methodists nor Moravians, but followers of William Cudworth, James Relly,[421] and their associates, who abhor us as much as they do the pope, and ten times more than they do the devil. If you oppose these, so do I, and have done, privately and publicly, for these twenty years.

“Some of my writings, you say, ‘you have read.’ But allow me to ask, did not you read them with much prejudice? or little attention? Otherwise surely you would not have termed them perplexing. Very few lay obscurity or intricacy to my charge. Those who do not allow them to be true do not deny them to be plain. And if they believe me to have done any good at all by writing, they suppose it is by this very thing, by speaking, on practical and experimental religion, more plainly than others have done.

“I quite agree, we ‘neither can be better men, nor better Christians, by continuing members of the Church of England.’ Yet, not only her doctrines, but many parts of her discipline I have adhered to, at the hazard of my life. If, in any point, I have since varied therefrom, it was not by choice but necessity. Judge, therefore, if they do well, who throw me into the ditch and then beat me, because my clothes are dirty.

“I remain, reverend sir,

“Your affectionate brother,

“John Wesley.”[422]

Another letter, written four days after the above, deserves attention, as showing the position occupied by Wesley as a minister of the Church of England. It also was addressed to a clergyman.

“Liverpool, April 6, 1761.

“Dear Sir,—Let who will speak, if what is spoken be true, I am ready to subscribe it. If it be not, I accept no man’s person. Magis amica veritas. I had an agreeable conversation with Mr. Venn, who I suppose is now near you. I think, he is exactly as regular as he ought to be.[423] I would observe every punctilio of order, except where the salvation of souls is at stake. Here I prefer the end before the means.

“I think it great pity, that the few clergymen in England, who preach the three grand spiritual doctrines,—original sin, justification by faith, and holiness consequent thereon,—should have any jealousies or misunderstandings between them. What advantage must this give to the common enemy! What a hindrance is it to the great work wherein they are all engaged! How desirable is it, that there should be the most open, avowed intercourse among them! Surely if they are ashamed to own one another, in the face of all mankind, they are ashamed of Christ! Excuses, indeed, will never be wanting; but will these avail before God? For many years, I have been labouring after this: labouring to unite, not scatter, the messengers of God. Not that I want anything from them. As God has enabled me to stand, almost alone, for these twenty years, I doubt not but He will enable me to stand, either with them or without them. But I want all to be helpful to each other; and all the world to know we are so. Let them know ‘who is on the Lord’s side.’ You, I trust, will always be of that number. Oh let us preach and live the whole gospel!

“I am, dear sir,

“Your ever affectionate brother and servant,

“John Wesley.”[424]

This is a manly and Christian letter. He longed for union and for help, not for his own sake so much as for the sake of others. For twenty years, he had done his work without the cooperation of his brethren, the clergy; and he could do so still; but, like his great Master, he prayed for unity among Christians, that there might be faith among sinners.

The Church question was still unsettled. Four days after writing the above, Wesley addressed, to another correspondent, an unusually long letter, from which we select the following.

“April 10, 1761.

“Dear Sir,—Some years since, two or three clergymen of the Church of England, who were above measure zealous for all her rules and orders, were convinced, that religion is not an external thing, but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost; and, that this righteousness, peace, and joy are given only to those who are justified by faith. As soon as they were convinced of these great truths, they preached them; and multitudes flocked to hear. For these reasons, and no others, real or pretended (for as yet they were strictly regular), they were forbid to preach in the churches. Not daring to be silent, they preached elsewhere, in a school, by a river side, or upon a mountain. And more and more sinners forsook their sins, and were filled with peace and joy in believing.”

Wesley adds, that “huge offence was taken at their gathering congregations in so irregular a manner”; and proceeds to answer the objections that were raised. He affirms: “If a dispensation of the gospel is committed to me, no church has power to enjoin me silence. If there be a law, that a minister of Christ, who is not suffered to preach the gospel in the church, should not preach it elsewhere; or a law that forbids Christian people to hear the gospel of Christ out of their parish church, when they cannot hear it therein, I judge that law to be absolutely sinful, and that it would be sinful to obey it.” He maintains, that the “fundamental principles” of the Methodist clergymen are “the fundamental principles of the Established Church; and so is their practice too, save in a few points, wherein they are constrained to deviate, or to destroy their own souls, and let thousands of their brethren perish for lack of knowledge.” He declares that, though “they gather congregations everywhere, and exercise their ministerial office therein, this is not contrary to any restraint which was laid upon them at their ordination; for they were not ordained to serve any particular parish; and it was remarkable, that Lincoln college” (of which he was a fellow) “was founded ‘ad propagandam Christianam fidem, et extirpandas hœreses.’” He admits, that he and his friends “maintain that, in some circumstances, it is lawful for men to preach, who are not episcopally ordained; especially, where thousands are rushing into destruction, and those who are ordained and appointed to watch over them neither care for, nor know how to help them.” He allows that, “hereby they contradict the twenty-third article, to which they had subscribed”; but he adds, “we subscribed it in the simplicity of our hearts, when we firmly believed none but episcopal ordination valid; and Bishop Stillingfleet has since fully convinced us, that this was an entire mistake.” He continues: “In every point of an indifferent nature, we obey the bishops, for conscience sake; but we think episcopal authority cannot reverse what is fixed by Divine authority.” In conclusion, he says, though they (the Methodist clergymen) are irregular, “that is not their choice. They must either preach irregularly or not at all.” Besides, he reminds these sticklers for church order, that “if none ought to speak or hear the truth of God, unless in a regular manner,” Martin Luther could not have preached as he did, and there could have been no reformation from popery.[425]

On April 27, Wesley entered Scotland, where Christopher Hopper was his travelling companion. He visited Edinburgh, Dundee, and Aberdeen. At the last mentioned place, by the consent of the principal and regent, he preached in the college hall, and in the college close, and added forty to the small society, which now numbered ninety members. The principal, and the divinity professor, and Sir Archibald Grant, and others, invited him to their houses, and showed him great attention. Three years afterwards, Christopher Hopper was appointed to Aberdeen, and a chapel was erected.[426]

The Scots’ Magazine, for 1763, page 421, inserts a long letter, dated “Aberdeen, June 2, 1763,” proposing to give “an account of the rise and progress of Methodism” in that city. The writer was unfriendly towards Wesley, but his statements will be read with interest.

He says, four or five persons, belonging to Aberdeen, being in England, went to hear Wesley and some of his brethren preach. On returning home, they formed a society, which met every morning at five o’clock, when they sung a hymn, read a portion of Scripture and Wesley’s commentary, then sung a second time, and concluded with a prayer. Soon a considerable number of people joined themselves to this infant congregation. They then applied to Wesley, who sent two of his preachers to visit them. These itinerants, for a few weeks, preached twice a day, at the castle hill, at 5 a.m. and at 6 p.m. The society so increased, that no room, in an ordinary dwelling house, could hold them; and hence, after the preachers had left them, they hired “a waste house,” in which they continued to assemble twice every day. While they had no preacher, three of their principal men acted as public speakers; one singing a hymn and praying, the second reading the Scriptures and a commentary thereon, and the third singing another hymn and offering the concluding prayer. Thus were the services of the Methodists, in Aberdeen, conducted until Wesley’s visit in 1761. He remained nearly a week, preaching twice daily, at five in the morning, in the common school of the Marischal college, and at seven in the evening, in the college close.

“All his discourses” [says the writer] “abounded with comical stories, which generally concluded with something to his own praise. Before his departure, he caused a paper to be written, containing words to this purpose: ‘On such a day, at such a sermon, we, the following subscribers, were converted from the evil of our ways to the true faith of Jesus Christ.’ Many persons ignorantly put their names to this paper, without knowing what they signed. This document Mr. Wesley carried with him to show the great success of his ministry in Aberdeen. He also purchased a place for a tabernacle, which is now fitted up with seats, and to which he sends a new preacher every six months. They preach in this tabernacle every Sunday at 7 a.m. and at 6 p.m.; and also on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, at 5 a.m. and at 7 p.m.; while, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays they meet at 6 p.m. for private examination.

“The preachers frequently declare, in their public discourses, that they come not for stipend, but to win souls to Christ. And yet, it is well known, that every person who joins the society pays to a common collector, who is accountable to Mr. Wesley, one penny per week, and also, for a ticket of admission to their private examinations, sixteen pence every quarter. This tax is paid by servant maids and the lower class of hearers; but people in more opulent circumstances pay considerably more; and it may justly be questioned whether the people of any religious sect in Britain pay so much towards the maintenance of their ministers as the Methodists; for the lowest of their hearers pay 9s. 8d. per annum, which, considering the vast number of Methodists in Scotland, England, and Ireland, amounts to a very great sum.

“Having thus established the church at Aberdeen, Mr. Wesley, at the request of an honourable gentleman, accompanied him to his country seat. The minister of the parish complimented him with his pulpit; where, at the gentleman’s desire, he held forth against the pernicious practice of stealing wood; which so irritated his hearers, that they would infallibly have stoned him, had they not been restrained through fear of disobliging their master landlord.

“Mr. Wesley came again to Aberdeen on the 24th ultimo; and, during his stay, preached twice a day, as formerly, and had private conferences with his congregation at night, and recommended the keeping of a lovefeast at every full moon. Such a lovefeast was held before Mr. Wesley left. In the morning of the day on which the full moon happens, all the men meet in one place; in the afternoon, the women meet by themselves; and at night both men and women meet together. Their employment then is to eat bread and drink water with one another, to spend the whole night in prayer and singing hymns, and then to part with a brotherly kiss.”

This account is given, not because of belief in its accuracy, but because of its general historic interest.

Having spent a fortnight across the Tweed, Wesley, on the 14th of May, came to Berwick; and, after preaching there, and at Alnwick, Warksworth, Alemouth, Widdrington, Morpeth, and Placey, reached Newcastle four days afterwards. A month was occupied in itinerating the Newcastle circuit. He preached in the new chapel at Sunderland; and also in Monkwearmouth church. He visited Allandale, Weardale, Teesdale, and Swaledale. In Weardale he came “just in time to prevent all the society turning Dissenters, being quite disgusted at the curate, whose life was no better than his doctrine.” In Teesdale, most of the lead miners had been turned out of their work for being Methodists; but had been reinstated. In Swaledale, he “found an earnest, loving, simple people, whom he likewise exhorted not to leave the Church, though they had not the best of ministers.”

While in the north, Wesley wrote as follows to his sister, Mrs. Hall.

“Near Newcastle upon Tyne, June 14, 1761.

“Dear Patty,—Why should any of us live in the world without doing a little good in it? I am glad you have made a beginning. See that you are not weary in well doing; for it will often be a cross. But bear the cross; the best fruit grows under the cross.

“I have often thought it strange, that so few of my relations should be of any use to me in the work of God. My sister Wright was, of whom I should least have expected it; but it was only for a short season. My sister Emily and you, of whom one might have expected more, have, I know not how, kept at a distance, and sometimes cavilled a little, at other times, as it were, approved, but never heartily joined in the work. Where did it stick? Did you not thoroughly understand what my brother and I were doing? Did you not see the truth? Or, did the cause lie in your heart? You had no will to join hand in hand. You wanted resolution, spirit, patience. Well: the day is far spent. What you do, do quickly.

“My work in the country cannot be finished before the latter end of August, as the circuit is now larger by some hundred miles than when I was in the north two years ago. Oh let the one thing be ever uppermost in our thoughts!

“To promote either your temporal or eternal good will always be a pleasure to,

“Dear Patty, your affectionate brother,

“John Wesley.”[427]

Let us follow Wesley in his enlarged circuit. His labours were prodigious. He writes: “Three days in a week I can preach thrice a day without hurting myself; but I had now far exceeded this, besides meeting classes and exhorting the societies.”

On the 15th of June, he rode to Durham, and preached in a field, by the river side, “the congregation,” says Christopher Hopper, his companion, “behaving tolerably well, except that one poor man was hit by a stone, and lost a little blood.” In the evening, Wesley preached at Hartlepool, Hopper remaining behind to preach in the field at Durham, where a gentleman, so called, hired a base fellow to strip himself naked, and swim the river so as to disturb the hearers.[428] Shortly after this, Durham had its Methodist society, one of the first members of which was Mrs. Elizabeth Ward, whose house was the home of Wesley and his preachers,—a neat but nervous Christian lady, who, at the age of eighty-three, died in 1826, calling upon her friends to “magnify the Lord!”[429].

From Hartlepool, Wesley proceeded to Stockton, where Methodism had been fostered, if not introduced, by John Unthank, a farmer and local preacher, at Billingham, who, besides meeting a class at Stockton, and another at Billingham, met a third at Darlington, at a distance of fifteen miles. He died in 1822, aged ninety-three.[430] One of Unthank’s first converts was John MacGowan, the son of a prosperous baker at Edinburgh, and intended for a minister of the Church of Scotland, but who, at nineteen years of age, joined the rebel army of the Pretender, and fought at the battle of Culloden. He then fled to Durham, and apprenticed himself to a linen weaver, and was now tossing the shuttle in the vicinity of Stockton. MacGowan became a local preacher; but, being Calvinistic in his sentiments, he left the Methodists, and, in 1766, became the minister of Devonshire Square chapel, London, where he continued until his death in 1780. His “Dialogues of Devils,” his “Shaver,” and other works, making two octavo volumes, were once in great repute. He was a man of good natural abilities, and of lively imagination, a hard student, and a laborious preacher. His death was triumphant, some of his last words being, “Methinks I have as much of heaven as I can hold.”[431] Before leaving Stockton, it may be added, that, in 1769, a small chapel, twelve yards by nine, with a gallery at the end, was built; and that, afterwards, Stockton society sent out Christopher Smith, who removed to Cincinnati, in the United States, about the year 1800, where his joiner’s shop was then the only Methodist place of preaching, and he himself made the twenty-second member of the Methodist society, in “the queen city of the west,” now so beautifully built on the banks of the Ohio.[432]

After preaching at Stockton, Wesley went to Darlington, and preached his first sermon there. Here Methodism had been introduced by Unthank and MacGowan, and its meeting-house was a thatched cottage with a mudden floor. One of its first converts was John Hosmer, who afterwards became an itinerant preacher, was a son of thunder, and a man mighty in prayer and in the Scriptures, but whose failing health obliged him to relinquish the itinerancy, when he settled as a surgeon at Sunderland, and, after enduring great affliction, died in peace, at York, about the year 1780.[433]

Leaving Darlington, Wesley went to Yarm, where Mr. George Merryweather had fitted up his hayloft for a preaching room, in which, for three years past, the people had been favoured with a sermon or sermons, from the itinerant preachers, on at least every alternate Sunday. In 1763, the hayloft cathedral was superseded by a chapel, and Yarm was the head of a Methodist circuit, embracing Stockton, Hartlepool, Guisborough, Stokesley, Whitby, Thirsk, Ripon, Northallerton, and thirty other places.[434] For many years, Mr. Merryweather was one of Wesley’s most faithful friends; and, of course, his house, at Yarm, was Wesley’s home. Here he always met with the most loving welcome, and sometimes with softer kindness than he wished. An old Methodist, at Yarm, a few years ago, related that she well remembered Wesley,—his cassock, his black silk stockings, his large silver buckles, and his old lumbering carriage, with a bookcase inside of it. In fact, she herself and another little girl, while playing, ran the pole of the carriage through Mr. Merryweather’s parlour window, for which they deservedly received a scolding. She further stated that, on one occasion, when Mr. Merryweather’s servant entered Wesley’s room, she found Wesley’s coachman rolling himself up and down the feather bed most vigorously, because, as he affirmed, Wesley would not sleep in it until it was made as hard as possible.

Wesley held the quarterly meeting of the stewards of the Yarm circuit at Hutton Rudby, a small country village, with a new chapel, and a society of about eighty members, of whom nearly seventy were believers, and sixteen sanctified. He also preached at Potto, where Mrs. Moon resided, one of his valued correspondents and friends, whose conversion had been brought about by an old woman, a Methodist from Birstal, who came to the house of Mr. Moon to card his sheep “doddings,” and to spin them into linsey woolsey yarn.[435] In this way, Methodism was originated at Potto, Hutton Rudby, Stokesley, and the neighbourhood round about.

Wesley visited his old friend Mr. Adams, the popish priest, at Osmotherley, heard a useful sermon in the parish church, and then preached in the churchyard himself. He proceeded to Guisborough, where Thomas Corney, who, for about half a century, entertained the preachers, and who died in the faith, in 1807, was one of the members.[436] Here also resided John Middleton, a miller, who, in 1766, removed to Hartlepool, where, for many years, he was the best friend that Methodism had, and where he peacefully expired in 1795.[437]

From Guisborough, Wesley went to Whitby, and preached on the top of a hill which had to be ascended by a hundred and ninety steps. At Robinhood’s Bay, in the midst of his sermon, a large cat, frighted out of a chamber, leaped upon a woman’s head, and ran over the shoulders of many more; but so intent were they upon the truths to which they were listening, “that none of them moved or cried out, any more than if the cat had been a butterfly.”

On June 25, Wesley wended his way to Scarborough, and preached from a balcony, to several hundreds of people standing in the street. The first Methodist here was a pious female of the name of Bozman, who regularly went to Robinhood’s Bay to meet in class, a distance of fourteen miles, which she frequently rode upon an ass. In 1756, Thomas Brown, a local preacher, came from Sunderland, procured a preaching room in Whitehead’s Lane, and formed a Methodist society. In 1760, Mr. George Cussons joined them, the society now numbering six-and-thirty members.[438] Persecution followed; and, on one occasion, Brown, Cussons, and others were seized by a press gang, and were only released by the interference of General Lambton, then member of parliament for the city of Durham. In 1768, the Scarborough society sent, as its contribution to the York quarterly meeting, the magnificent sum of half a guinea;[439] and, four years afterwards, erected a chapel, which Wesley pronounced a model, for its “beauty and neatness.”[440]

From Scarborough, Wesley proceeded to Hull, where he found “some witnesses of the great salvation”; and to Beverley, Pocklington, and York. At York, he had far the genteelest audience he had seen since leaving Edinburgh, but he found many of the members “utterly dead,” and the society not at all increasing, which he attributed in part to the neglect of outdoor preaching.[441]

On July 6, Wesley proceeded to Tadcaster, and then to Otley. At the latter place he found ten or twelve professing to be entirely sanctified. Here resided John Whitaker, who had his first society ticket from the hands of Grimshaw, was a Methodist sixty-eight years, a leader sixty-four, a circuit steward more than fifty, and who finished his course in peace in 1825, aged eighty-four.[442] Here, especially, were the Ritchie family. John Ritchie, Esq., a sensible, amiable, well informed, godly man, had served many years as a surgeon in the navy. His wife was Beatrice Robinson, of Bramhope. His daughter Elizabeth, afterwards Mrs. Mortimer, was, for many years, Wesley’s friend and correspondent. Mr. Ritchie died in the faith in 1780; and his wife in 1808; their house being open to Wesley and his preachers for upward of half a century.[443] Here, as in other places, Methodism was cradled in persecution, the resident magistrate telling the mob, that they might do what they liked with the Methodists, except breaking their bones.

At Knaresborough, Wesley preached in the assembly room, where “the people looked wild enough when they came in; but were tame before they went out.”

He then made his way to Guiseley, Bingley, and Keighley. At Bingley, the first preaching place was a blacksmith’s shop; and among its first Methodists were, not only Jonathan Maskew and Thomas Mitchell—honoured names, but, Benjamin Wilkinson, a simple hearted, zealous, good old pilgrim, who died in the parish workhouse, and found a pauper’s grave, but at whose funeral the streets were crowded by those who wished to do him honour, while the singers of the chapel sang a solemn hymn of praise until they entered the sacred precincts of the parish church, where, as Methodists, they were allowed to sing no longer. Another Bingley Methodist, belonging to about the same period, was Joseph Pickles, who died at the age of ninety-five, in 1829, after being a Methodist nearly sixty-five years, leaving behind him seven children, seventy-three grandchildren, one hundred and seventy-nine great grandchildren, and fifty great great grandchildren, in all three hundred and nine surviving descendants, exclusive of one hundred and one others who died before him,—a total progeny of four hundred and ten.[444]

On Sunday, July 12, the crowd at Haworth was so immense that, after the liturgy had been read in the interior of the church, Grimshaw caused a scaffold to be fixed outside one of the windows, so that Wesley, at the same time, might preach to the congregations within and without. Well might the preacher exclaim, as he gazed on the vast multitude, in the picturesque churchyard, “What has God wrought in the midst of those rough mountains!”

During the ensuing week, Wesley preached at Colne, Padiham, Bacup, Heptonstall, Ewood, Halifax, and other places; and on Sunday, July 19, thrice at Leeds and Birstal, where he also held a lovefeast, which, marvellously enough, was the first that Birstal had. “Many,” says he, “were surprised when I told them, ‘The very design of a lovefeast is a free and familiar conversation, in which every man, yea, and woman, has liberty to speak whatever may be to the glory of God,’”

The next week was spent in preaching in the neighbourhood. At Kippax, he was joined by the Rev. Henry Venn; the Rev. William Romaine read prayers; and Wesley preached on “Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling block, and to the Greeks foolishness.” On the Sunday following, he preached again at Birstal, where numbers were converted. On July 27, he proceeded to Staincross; and thence to Sheffield. He preached under the hollow of a rock at Matlock Bath; and opened the new octagon chapel at Rotherham, remarking, “Pity our houses, where the ground will admit of it, should be built in any other form.” The cost of the Octagon was £235 16s. 3-1/2d.; the subscriptions amounted to £68 14s., of which sum £20 were given by Valentine Radley, a currier.[445] It is said that, while Wesley was preaching the opening sermon, the rabble drove in an ass, which stood in the aisle, lifted up its eyes to the preacher, remained quiet till the sermon was ended, then turned round and leisurely walked away, without making the disturbance that the mob expected.[446] Wesley pronounced the ass the most attentive hearer that he had.

On leaving Rotherham, Wesley made his way to Lincolnshire. At Misterton, he preached twice “to a lifeless, money getting people,” in his sharpest manner. Epworth cross again served him as a pulpit. At Gainsborough, he preached in “the old hall to a mixed multitude, part civil, part rude as bears.”

At Barrow, the mob was in readiness to receive him with violence, but their hearts failed them, and they only gave a few huzzas. At Horncastle, they “threatened terrible things,” but contented themselves with “a feeble shout,” as he was entering the town. At Sibsey “there were a few wild colts.” At Boston, which, he says, was nearly as large as Leeds, and far better built, the “congregation was much astonished, not being used to field preaching.”

From Boston, he made his way to Norwich, and thence to London, where he arrived on Saturday, August 22. He writes: “I found the work of God swiftly increasing. The congregations, in every place, were larger than they had been for several years. Many were, from day to day, convinced of sin. Many found peace with God. Many backsliders were healed. And many believers entered into such a rest, as it had not before entered into their hearts to conceive. Meantime, the enemy was not wanting in his endeavours to sow tares among the good seed. I saw this clearly, but durst not use violence, lest, in plucking up the tares, I should root up the wheat also.”

This brings us to an important epoch in Wesley’s history; but, before adverting to it further, a few extracts from his letters must be given.

The first was addressed to one of his oldest itinerants, Alexander Coates, who died in 1765. Mr. Coates was puzzled with the rumours concerning the doctrine of Christian perfection. Wesley, after explaining what he meant by the doctrine, proceeds in the following characteristic style.

“Otley, July 7, 1761.

“My dear Brother,— ... This way of talking is highly offensive. I advise you—1. If you are willing to labour with us, preach no doctrine contrary to ours. I have preached twenty years in some of Mr. Whitefield’s societies; yet, to this day, I never contradicted him among his own people. I did not think it honest, neither necessary at all I could preach salvation by faith, and leave all controversy untouched. I advise you—2. Avoid all those strong, rhetorical exclamations, ‘O horrid, O dreadful!’ and the like; unless when you are strongly exhorting sinners to renounce the devil and all his works. 3. Acquaint yourself better with the doctrine we preach, and you will find it not dreadful, but altogether lovely. 4. Observe that, if forty persons think and speak wrong, either about justification or sanctification (and perhaps fancy they have attained both), this is no objection to the doctrines themselves. They must bear their own burden; but this does not at all affect the point in question. 5. Remember, as sure as you are that ‘believers cannot fall from grace,’ others are equally sure they can; and you are as much obliged to bear with them as they are to bear with you. 6. Abstain from all controversy in public. Indeed, you have not a talent for it. You have an honest heart, but not a clear head; practical religion is your point. Therefore—7. Keep to this: repentance toward God, faith in Christ, holiness of heart and life, a growing in grace and in the knowledge of Christ, the continual need of His atoning blood, a constant confidence in Him, and all these every moment to our life’s end. In none of these will any of our preachers contradict you, or you them.

“When you leave this plain path, and get into controversy, then you think you ‘invade the glories of our adorable King, and the unspeakable rights, and privileges, and comforts of His children’; and can they then ‘tamely hold their peace?’ O Sander, know the value of peace and love!

“I am, your affectionate brother,

“John Wesley.”[447]

The following was addressed to Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell, and refers to his clerical friends, and his difficulties with respect to them.

“Bradford, July 16, 1761.

“Dear Sir,—Mr. Venn was so kind as to come over hither yesterday, and spend the evening with us. I am a little embarrassed on his account, and hardly know how to act. Several years before he came to Huddersfield, some of our preachers went thither, carrying their lives in their hands, and, with great difficulty, established a little, earnest society. These eagerly desire them to preach there still; not in opposition to Mr. Venn, (whom they love, esteem, and constantly attend,) but to supply what they do not find in his preaching. It is a tender point. Where there is a gospel ministry already, we do not desire to preach; but whether we can leave off preaching because such an one comes after, is another question; especially, when those, who were awakened and convinced by us, beg and require the continuance of our assistance. I love peace, and follow it; but whether I am at liberty to purchase it at such a price, I really cannot tell.

“I hear poor Mr. Walker is near death. It seems strange that, when there is so great a want of faithful labourers, such as he should be removed: but the will of God is always best; and what He does, we shall know hereafter! I have been, for some days, with Mr. Grimshaw, an Israelite indeed. A few such as he would make a nation tremble. He carries fire wherever he goes. Mr. Venn informs me, that Mr. Whitefield continues very weak. I was in hope, when he wrote to me lately, that he was swiftly recovering strength. What need have we, while we do live, to live in earnest!

“I am, dear sir, your affectionate servant,

“John Wesley.”[448]

In another letter, written a month later, Wesley refers again to the Huddersfield difficulty as follows.

“Norwich, August 15, 1761.

“Dear Sir,—Mr. Venn and I have had some hours’ conversation together, and have explained upon every article. I believe there is no bone of contention remaining; no matter of offence, great or small. Indeed, fresh matter will arise, if it be sought; but it shall not be sought by me. We have amicably compromised the affair of preaching. He is well pleased, that the preachers should come once a month.

“I am, etc.,

“John Wesley.”[449]

This was an important precedent; and an additional indication that, even under the most favourable circumstances, it was impossible to absorb Methodism in the Established Church. If such was Wesley’s difficulty, in the case of Mr. Venn and Huddersfield Methodism in 1761, who can doubt what would have been Wesley’s answer to the advocates of absorption, or amalgamation, in 1870?

On September 1, Wesley met his conference, in London. Three days after it ended, John Manners wrote as follows to Mr. Merryweather, of Yarm.

“London, September 9, 1761.

“My dear Brother,—At present, there is the most glorious work in London I have ever seen. Many scores praise God from Monday morning till Saturday night. Their words and prayers are full of faith and fire. We have had the most satisfactory and solemn conference that has been held for several years. It was honoured with the presence of Mr. Whitefield and other clergy several times. The minutes you may see with Tommy Johnson, the assistant of your circuit.

“I am, yours, etc.,

“J. Manners.”[450]

Strangely enough Charles Wesley was not present. Hence the following, addressed to him, two days after the conference closed.

“London, September 8, 1761.

“Dear Brother,—Our conference ended, as it began, in peace and love. All found it a blessed time:

‘Excepto, quod non simul esses, cætera læti.’

“The minutes John Jones can help you to, who sets out hence in two or three days. The right hand of the Lord bringeth mighty things to pass.

“I do not at all think, (to tell you a secret,) that the work will ever be destroyed, Church or no Church. What has been done to prevent the Methodists leaving the Church, you will see in the minutes of the conference. I told you before, with regard to Norwich, Dixi. I have done, at the last conference, all I can or dare do. Allow me liberty of conscience, as I allow you. My love to Sally. Adieu!

“John Wesley.”[451]

Unfortunately, the minutes of 1761 have not been found; but it is evident, that separation from the Church was still a debated question.

Another matter was also probably discussed. The doctrine of entire sanctification, attainable in an instant, by the exercise of faith, was now agitating Methodism throughout the country. Twelve months before this, sixteen, out of the 2350 members composing the London society, professed to have attained to this state of grace; and these had now increased to thirty. There were also not a few at Otley, in Yorkshire, who declared themselves to the same effect. In fact, Otley was the place where the perfection movement had its origin. “Here”, says Wesley, “began that glorious work of sanctification, which had been nearly at a stand for twenty years; but which now, from time to time, spread first through various parts of Yorkshire, afterwards in London, then through most parts of England, next through Dublin, Limerick, and all the south and west of Ireland. And wherever the work of sanctification increased, the whole work of God increased, in all its branches.”[452]

In this respect, Otley will always be famed in Methodistic annals. Wesley heard of its sanctified Methodists; and, in 1760, he went to visit and to examine them, one by one. The testimony of some of them he doubted; but concerning a large majority, he writes: “Unless they told wilful and deliberate lies, it was plain—(1) That they felt no inward sin; and, to the best of their knowledge, committed no outward sin. (2) That they saw and loved God every moment; and prayed, rejoiced, and gave thanks evermore. (3) That they had constantly as clear a witness from God of sanctification as they had of justification.” Wesley adds: “In this, I do rejoice, and will rejoice, call it what you please. I would to God, thousands had experienced thus much; let them afterwards experience as much more as God pleases.”

This was an important, and, in some respects, a novel movement. Wesley had held the doctrine of Christian perfection ever since the year 1733, when he preached his sermon on the circumcision of the heart; but now, for the first time, he found people professing to experience and practise it. Yea more, they professed to have attained to this state of purity in a moment, and by simple faith.[453] No wonder Wesley was excited, and that, besides examining the Otley Methodists, he now began to sift those in London. Once a week, he met about thirty, who, to use his own expression, “had experienced a deep work of God”; and says concerning them: “Whether they are saved from sin or no, they are certainly full of faith and love, and peculiarly helpful to my soul.” On March 6, he writes: “I met again with those who believe God has delivered them from the root of bitterness. Their number increases daily. I know not if fifteen or sixteen have not received the blessing this week.”

Wesley himself had not received it; and it is an important fact that, so far as there is evidence to show, to the day of his death, he never made the same profession as hundreds of his people did. He preached the doctrine most explicitly and strongly, especially after the period of which we are writing; but where is the proof that he professed to experience it? All the way, in his long northern journey, he was evidently anxious to hear what those who were entirely sanctified had to say. He also sought information by epistolary correspondence. He conversed with Grimshaw and his preachers. This, in some respects, was a new fact in Methodism; and, by prayerfully sifting evidence, he was extremely desirous to satisfy himself concerning it. At Newcastle and in the neighbourhood, he inquired how it was that there were “so few witnesses of full salvation;” and says, “I constantly received one and the same answer: ‘We see now, we sought it by our works; we thought it was to come gradually; we never expected it to come in a moment, by simple faith, in the very same manner as we received justification.’”[454]

We have said, that Wesley himself did not profess to have attained to this state of grace; and hence the following extract from a letter addressed to him by Miss B——, one of his favourite correspondents, and bearing date “April 17, 1761.”

“Do you seem to be a great way off? You are not out of God’s reach; not farther from being healed than the man covered with leprosy was, the moment before Christ said, ‘I will; be thou clean.’ Jesus heals all diseases as well as one. He does not expect you to bring Him fruit in order to fetch the root. All you want, He will give with a new heart; all He asks of you is, to claim your right. Do you seek a sacrifice beside? Oh, He is all-sufficient! He has paid the full debt for both actual and original sin. By His stripes you are healed. Why should you be without the blessing any longer? It is His will that, from the time you read this, you should never sin against Him any more. Now believe, and His blood shall so flow over your soul, that no spot shall be found there. He will keep your heart, as with a garrison, that it shall never open to anything but His love. There needs but one grain of faith, and the mountain shall be removed. All you say of wanting desire and earnestness, I can still say, with regard to a farther blessing,—that constant uninterrupted intercourse with God, of which Lopez speaks, when he says that, for thirty-six years, he had never discontinued one moment, making an act of love with all his strength. For want of this, I do not keep quite clear of idle reasonings. I never had a clear abiding witness, that I was saved from sin; but I feel my soul hangs on Jesus, and I do believe He will keep me for ever. My peace is more solid than it was at first, and my soul seems more sunk into God. But what I judge more by, is the change I feel; my one desire is to do His will: and I feel nothing but love to every creature, let them use me well or ill. Oh pray for me, and stir up all you can, to seek all my Saviour has to give.”[455]

This extract is given, not because it contains no unjustifiable expressions, but because it establishes the fact already mentioned, and because it is a fair specimen of the loose language which came into use at this important juncture. It was addressed to Wesley, and was published by him in one of his earliest magazines, in which he also inserts a large number of other letters, on the same subject, received by him at and about the period of which we are now writing. The following are extracts taken from the correspondence, dated 1761.

“M. W.” writes to him:

“The Lord has graciously given me a clean heart; and I hope to use it in His service. I find I speak less than I did, and what I do speak I know is according to the will of God. Mr. Edward Perronet questioned me much yesterday. I simply answered him; and he, at last, prayed that he might feel what we enjoyed. Before you left town, I was agonizing with excess of desire to love God alone. I knew the power was ready, whenever I asked for it in faith. I found it was like throwing myself into a rapid stream, where I must swim or perish. The Lord gave me faith, and a sweet serenity. Prayer is sweet. I would not accept the empire of the world, to keep me from that food of immortal souls.”

“Mr. J. C. M.” writes:

“From the time Jesus cleansed my heart from sin, I was ever happy in His love; though, at times, I was much tempted. Satan did, indeed, sift me as wheat; but he gained no advantage over me. His chief temptation was, to deny the work of God; not to believe I was sealed with His Spirit. I cried earnestly to the Lord, that, if it was not done yet, He would do it; and, on Easter Monday, at chapel, I found I had access unto the Father through the Son; and He showed me, He had made with me an everlasting covenant. I then knew, my soul was sealed in heaven with the blood of Jesus. I could say, ‘I am the Lamb’s wife’; and was answered, ‘the spotless bride.’ From this time, I never found a doubt that God had taken away the root of sin; but yet, as the light shined clearer, I saw many things lacking in my soul. I wanted to have my whole mind, and to have all my thoughts fixed on God. Above all, I wanted to live every moment in a spirit of sacrifice. My peace increased; but I found Satan had power to inject wandering thoughts, and thereby cloud my understanding, so that I could not clearly discern the state of my soul. On April 30, for near two hours, my cry was, ‘Let my whole mind be fixed on Thee!’ I trust to Thy faithfulness, to keep my mind, as Thou hast kept my heart. I will believe, and according to my faith it shall be unto me.’ At first indeed, this faith was weak; but it grew stronger and stronger. The next day Satan assaulted me on every side, to draw my mind from God; but I am enabled to stand on my watchtower, and to keep the eye of my soul continually fixed on the Lamb of God.”

Another correspondent, who professed entire sanctification, was questioned by Wesley concerning wandering thoughts, and answered:

“Useless, unedifying thoughts pass through, though they do not lodge in, my mind. Therefore, I judge I have not received the blessing which others have; but I have a clear witness, that my heart never departs from God, and am enabled to discern, that I do offer unto the Lord an uninterrupted act of love. Still, I live too much without, not enough within. My life is not sufficiently a hidden life. I would find, in the whole creation, nothing but God and my own soul.”

Another says:

“In the latter end of February, my wife wrote me concerning the work
God was doing in London; adding, that one of my acquaintance had
gotten a clean heart. I started when I read that word; but I hastened
home. My soul thirsted for God, and most of the day was spent in
prayer. I called God my Father; and knew He could save me now.
Meantime, Satan was ready to tear me in pieces, till I cried vehemently,
‘Lord! wouldst Thou have me believe Thee?’ As soon as I spoke, He
answered, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.’
My soul fell upon Him; I did believe, and peace sprung up like a river in
my soul. I cannot tell you, what a glorious liberty I was now brought
into. I hung upon Him, and loved Him with all my heart. Since then,
my heart has been continually burning with love to God and all mankind.
I laid at His feet, and loathed myself. He talked with me all the day
long. I found Him building up the ruined places, and making my soul as
a watered garden. After a while, however, I found my mind wandering as
I walked in the street. I told brother Biggs of it. He said, ‘You want
to have your mind stayed upon God, as well as your affections.’ I saw
the thing clearly. It was not long before some of our brethren spoke of

having received this blessing. I clearly saw, that I did love God with all my heart; but that this was wanting still, that every thought should be brought into subjection to the obedience of Christ. This I expected to receive at the Lord’s table, but did not. Then, I prayed the Lord to show me the hindrance. And He did show me; I had been seeking it, as it were, by the works of the law. I then pleaded the blood of Jesus Christ, and cast myself upon Him, believing. And I felt His power delivering me, I think, more clearly than when He took the root of bitterness out of my heart. The deadness to all things, which I have found since then, is more than I can express.”

Hannah Harrison gives an account of obtaining this entire freedom from sin; but adds:

“For some time, all the evidence I could produce arose from the nature of the change. I found the want of a clear and direct witness. This I received about February 1759; and this I have never lost, but can acknowledge, to the glory of God, that it is as clear now as at the first. I know not how to describe the difference between the witness and the work itself; but this I know; many, in whom we believe the work is wrought, are often in doubt concerning it; whereas, the testimony of the Spirit enables the soul to rise superior to those doubtful disputations, which sometimes hinder the progress of those who are really saved from sin. I neither have, nor desire to have a witness, that ‘sin will never enter more;’ for my everlasting life depends upon patiently continuing in well doing. I feel great love to Jesus Christ; but when I think of God the Father, I can find nothing but boundless inconceivables. Many unnecessary things are presented to my imagination; but, as soon as they appear to be such, I can as easily dismiss them as I can move my hand. ‘Tis long since I had the shadow of a doubt of my final acceptance with God; but yet, I cannot say, that I am sealed to the day of redemption. Though I am possessed of every natural passion, it is long since I felt a desire, inordinate either in kind or degree.”

John Fox testified that he “knew he was saved from sin, and loved God with all his heart; yet his mind was not always stayed upon Him. But he saw, that this, as well as the former blessing, was to be received by simple faith. From this time, he continually prayed for an increase of faith; and it was not long before his soul was brought as into the immediate presence of God, who, from that hour, did every moment keep his heart and his mind also.”

Daniel Carney said:

“Mr. M—— spoke some time since, concerning the necessity of watching over the wandering of the eye and ear. This struck me exceedingly; for I remembered how often, when I was happy in God, my eye was nevertheless wandering, to look at my child, or something else that did not profit. I cried mightily to be delivered from this; and one morning pleaded that promise, ‘Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee,’ I said, ‘Why not now, Lord? Thou canst give it me now!’ Immediately it was to me according to my faith. I have found no wanderings since.”

Carney adds:

“Brother Biggs and Calvert received the same blessing about the same time. This morning, Sarah Guildford, and another of our brethren, testified the same thing. And they all declare, this is as different from what they received before, as that is from justification.”

These testimonies might be multiplied; but enough has been adduced, to show that great excitement existed. All agreed that the second blessing, as it was often termed, was to be obtained by simple faith; but, on other matters, there was much confusion. Some speak of a direct witness of entire sanctification; others speak of persons entirely sanctified who were without such witness. Some speak not only of a second, but a third blessing; not only of the sanctification of the heart, but of the mind; and speak of them as distinct acts, experienced at different times, though both obtained by faith.

Wesley was a student of the Bible. He drew his theology from that; but he was always anxious to have his theology confirmed by the experience of Christians. For this purpose, when he, in 1738, embraced the doctrine of justification by faith only, he went to Herrnhuth to make himself acquainted with the views and feelings of the people in that Moravian settlement; and now, in 1761, when the doctrine of entire sanctification from sin, attainable in an instant, by simple faith, was becoming popular among the Methodists, he not only weighed the doctrine in the balances of holy Scripture, but did his utmost to ascertain what those who professed to experience it had to say concerning it. There was much to be disapproved; but there was also much to be encouraged. In the midst of the agitation, Wesley wrote, “Otley, July 7, 1761:”

“The perfection I teach, is perfect love; loving God with all the heart: receiving Christ as Prophet, Priest, and King, to reign alone over all our thoughts, words, and actions. The papists neither teach nor believe this; give even the devil his due. They teach there is no perfection here, which is not consistent with venial sins; and among venial sins they commonly reckon fornication. Now this is so far from the perfection I teach, that it does not come up to any but Mr. Relly’s perfection. To say, Christ will not reign alone in our hearts, in this life, will not enable us to give Him all our hearts. This, in my judgment, is making Him half a Saviour; He can be no more, if He does not quite save us from our sins.”[456]

In another letter, dated “December 26, 1761,” he says:

“I know many who love God with all their heart, mind, soul, and strength. He is their one desire, their one delight, and they are continually happy in Him. They love their neighbour as themselves. They feel as sincere, fervent, constant a desire for the happiness of every man, good or bad, friend or enemy, as for their own. They rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks. Their souls are continually streaming up to God in holy joy, prayer, and praise. This is plain, sound, scriptural experience. And of this we have more and more living witnesses.

“But these souls dwell in a shattered, corruptible body, and are so pressed down thereby, that they cannot exert their love as they would, by always thinking, speaking, and acting precisely right. For want of better bodily organs, they sometimes inevitably think, speak, or act wrong. Yet, I think, they need the advocacy of Christ, even for these involuntary defects; although, they do not imply a defect of love, but of understanding. However that be, I cannot doubt the fact. They are all love; yet they cannot walk as they desire. ‘But are they all love while they grieve the Holy Spirit?’ No surely: they are then fallen from their steadfastness; and this they may do even after they are sealed. So that, even to such, strong cautions are needful. After the heart is cleansed from pride, anger, and desire, it may suffer them to re-enter. Therefore, I have long thought, some expressions in the hymns are abundantly too strong; as I cannot perceive any state mentioned in Scripture from which we may not, in a measure at least, fall.”[457]

As already stated, much loose language on the subject of entire sanctification was employed; though, for this, Wesley can hardly be held responsible. Still it gave offence, and created disquietude. Grimshaw wrote to Wesley a letter, dated “July 23, 1761,” complaining, that even some of the preachers had said: “He is a child of the devil, who disbelieves the doctrine of sinless perfection; and he is no true Christian, who has not attained to it.” Grimshaw adds:

“Brother Lee declared, (and I could not but believe him,) that you did, and would utterly reject any such expressions. Sinless perfection is a grating term to many of our dear brethren; even to those who are as desirous to be holy in heart and life, as any perhaps of them who affect to speak in this unscriptural way. Should we not discountenance the use of it, and advise its votaries to exchange it for terms less offensive, but sufficiently expressive of true Christian holiness? By this, I mean all that holiness of heart and life, which is literally, plainly, abundantly taught us all over the Bible; and without which no man, however justified through faith in the righteousness of Christ, can ever expect to see the Lord. This is that holiness, that Christian perfection, that sanctification, which without affecting strange, fulsome, offensive, unscriptural expressions, I ardently desire and strenuously labour to attain. This is attainable: for this let us contend; to this let us diligently exhort and excite all our brethren daily; and this the more as we see the day—the happy, the glorious day—approaching.”[458]

Wesley acted upon Grimshaw’s hint; and, before the conference in London broke up, preached from the text, “In many things we offend all;” from which he took occasion to observe—(1) That, as long as the soul is connected with the body, it cannot think but by the help of bodily organs. (2) As long as these organs are imperfect, we shall be liable to mistakes, both speculative and practical. (3) For all these we need the atoning blood, as indeed for every defect or omission. Therefore, (4) All men have need to say daily, forgive us our trespasses.[459]

About the same time, he preached and published his sermon on “Wandering Thoughts,” in which he lays it down, that every man, either in sleep, or from some other cause, is, more or less, innocently delirious every four-and-twenty hours; and that the only “wandering thoughts,” which are sinful, and from which we should pray to be delivered, are—(1) All those thoughts which wander from God, and leave Him no room in the mind; (2) all which spring from sinful tempers; (3) all which produce or feed sinful tempers. In summing up the whole, he writes: “To expect deliverance from wandering thoughts, occasioned by evil spirits, is to expect that the devil should die or fall asleep. To expect deliverance from those which are occasioned by other men, is to expect, either that men should cease from the earth, or that we should be absolutely secluded from them. And to pray for deliverance from those which are occasioned by the body, is, in effect, to pray that we may leave the body.”

The sermon is well worth reading; and, at the time, was of the utmost importance, in checking the fanaticism of the London Methodists respecting what they called the sanctification of the mind.

Conference being ended, Wesley “spent a fortnight more in London, guarding both the preachers and people against running into extremes on the one hand or the other”; and then, on Sunday, September 20, set off, by coach, to Bristol, where he employed the next six weeks. “Here likewise,” he writes, “I had the satisfaction to observe a considerable increase in the work of God. The congregations were exceeding large, and the people hungering and thirsting after righteousness; and every day afforded us fresh instances of persons convinced of sin, or converted to God. Indeed, God was pleased to pour out His Spirit this year, on every part both of England and Ireland; perhaps, in a manner we had never seen before; certainly not for twenty years. Oh what pity, that so many even of the children of God did not know the day of their visitation!”

At Kingswood the society, which had been much diminished, had now again nearly three hundred members, “many of whom,” says he, “were now athirst for full redemption, which for some years they had almost forgotten.” He desired all in Bristol and its neighbourhood, who believed themselves to be entirely sanctified, to meet him. About eighteen responded. He says, “I examined them severally, as exactly as I could; and I could not find anything in their tempers (supposing they spoke true) any way contrary to their profession.”

On October 31, Wesley returned to London, and immediately began a course of sermons on Christian perfection. On November 23 he went to Canterbury, where he found many with “a deeper work of God in their heart than they ever had before.” On Sunday, November 29, he writes: “We had a lovefeast in London, at which several declared the blessings they had found lately. We need not be careful by what name to call them, while the thing is beyond dispute. Many have, and many do daily, experience an unspeakable change. After being deeply convinced of inbred sin, particularly of pride, self will, and unbelief, in a moment, they feel all faith and love; no pride, no self will, or anger; and, from that moment, they have continual fellowship with God, always rejoicing, praying, and giving thanks. Whoever ascribes such a change to the devil, I ascribe it to the Spirit of God.”

With the exception of a brief visit to Colchester, the remainder of the year was spent in London, part of the time being occupied in writing “Farther Thoughts on Christian Perfection,” and part in removing misunderstandings fomented by Thomas Maxfield and others, which will have to be more fully noticed in ensuing pages.

The following letter to Charles Wesley, who was out of health, is full of interest.

“London, December 26, 1761.

“Dear Brother,—Spend as many hours in the congregation as you can; but exercise alone will strengthen your lungs; or electrifying, which I wonder you did not try long ago. Never start at its being a quack medicine. I desire no other; particularly since I was so nearly murdered by being cured of my ague secundum artem. You should always write standing and sloping.

“We are always in danger of enthusiasm; but I think no more now than any time these twenty years. The word of God runs indeed, and loving faith spreads on every side. Do not take my word, or any one else’s; but come and see. It is good to be in London now.

“It is impossible for me to correct my own books. I sometimes think it strange, that I have not one preacher that will and can. I think every one of them owes me so much service.

“Pray tell R. Sheen, I am hugely displeased at his reprinting the Nativity Hymns, and omitting the very best hymn in the collection,—‘All glory to God in the sky,’ etc.

“I beg they may never more be printed without it. Omit one or two, and I will thank you. They are namby-pambical. I wish you would give us two or three invitatory hymns; we want such exceedingly. My love to Sally. My wife gains ground. Adieu!

“John Wesley.”[460]

This was an eventful year. Charles Wesley was ill, and out of town. Wesley was most of the time employed in visiting country societies. London was left in the hands of inexperienced and enthusiastic guides; and a great work of God was injured by the fanaticism of well meaning but weak minded people. But more of this anon.

The year began with an attack, in the London Magazine, on the Methodist doctrine of assurance, the writer taking upon himself to say, that “the Methodists insist, that they themselves are sure of salvation; but that all others are outcasts from God’s favour, and in a damnable state.”[461] In other articles, in the same periodical, Wesley was branded as “an enemy to religion, and a deceiver of the people;” “an enthusiast, a very great enthusiast;” with no more “knowledge of and esteem for the holy Scriptures than a Mahommedan.”[462] It is affirmed, that one of Wesley’s preachers, “who instructed the good people of England, at or near Rye, in Sussex, was known to be a popish priest, by a gentleman, who was no stranger to his person and functions in foreign parts.” The writer continues: “the Methodists may with as much reason be considered good sons of the Church, as an unruly boy that runs away from his parents may be deemed a dutiful, obedient child. I can consider them only as spies, deserters, and incendiaries. Was I to form a judgment of Christ’s disciples by your followers, very just would be the sarcasm of Zosimus on Christianity, ‘That it was only a sanctuary for villains,’”[463] In fact, “Methodism was a spurious mixture of enthusiasm and blasphemy, popery and quakerism.”[464]

Wesley replied to this anonymous scribbler, in a characteristic letter, dated “February 17, 1761,” and addressed “to Mr. G. R., alias R. A., alias M. K., alias R. W.” He writes: “As you are stout, be merciful; or I shall never be able to stand it. Four attacks in one month! and pushed so home! Well, I must defend myself as I can.” And defend himself he did, most trenchantly.[465]

Another writer described the Methodists as “a race of men, which seemed to bear a near resemblance to the new species of rats. They were amphibious creatures, between the church and the conventicle, as those animals are between land and water. They made settlements in every part of the country, and devoured the fruits of the earth; they drew the simple folk from that necessary business, which God and nature designed them for, to the great loss, if not total ruin, of their families; and they filled men’s heads with doubts and fears, and emptied their pockets of their money.”[466]

Further attacks were made in Lloyd’s Evening Post, and in other periodicals, but of a more moderate and courteous character; with the exception of an infamous article in St. James’s Chronicle, in which Whitefield is ridiculed, in a long, lying piece, entitled “Similes, Metaphors, and Familiar Allusions made use of by Dr. Squintum.” There was likewise published a scandalous pamphlet of thirty-two pages, bearing the title of “A Journal of the Travels of Nathaniel Snip, a Methodist Teacher of the Word; containing an account of the marvellous adventures which befel him on his way from the town of Kingston upon Hull to the city of York.” Another production was an octavo pamphlet, of forty-three pages, entitled, “An Address to the Right Honourable ——; with several Letters to the D—— of —— from the L——. In vindication of her conduct on being charged with Methodism.” In this high sounding piece of preposterous pretentiousness, Methodist preachers are described as men who “think their assurance to be the gift, and their nonsense to be the dictates, of the Holy Ghost.” They are like some of the “designing men” mentioned by Tillotson, who “recommend themselves to the ignorant, by talking against reason, just as nurses endear themselves to children by noise and nonsense.”

The most respectable onslaught, in 1761, was in two sermons, preached before the university of Oxford, at St. Mary’s, on Act Sunday, July 12, by Dr. Hitchcock, fellow of St. John’s college, and one of the preachers at his majesty’s chapel at Whitehall; and on July 19, by the Rev. John Allen, M.A., vice principal of St. Mary Magdalene hall.” Dr. Hitchcock’s sermon was entitled, “The mutual Connection between Faith, Virtue, and Knowledge,” and was published at the request of the vice chancellor, and the heads of houses; Mr. Allen’s bore the title of “No Acceptance with God by Faith only,” and was published at the request of the vice chancellor alone. There can be little doubt, that this was a concerted movement, and was intended to be an unanswerable refutation of Wesley’s heresies. Of course, such men were not likely to employ the coarse abuse which newspapers and magazines were wont to cast upon the Methodists; but even here, in St. Mary’s, before the university of Oxford, where Methodism had its rise, and after it had existed and triumphed for more than twenty years, Dr. Hitchcock coolly told the vice chancellor, the heads of houses, and his illustrious congregation, that the Methodists were men of “no knowledge”; that they were building “up a church upon enthusiasm, rhapsody, and nonsense”; and Mr. Allen “willingly undertook” to refute “the leading tenet of modern enthusiasm by proving the following proposition, That faith, in its highest degree, when alone, or distinct from other virtues, is so far from saving or justifying any person, that it doth not necessarily produce good works.”

Wesley himself was too busy, in 1761, to write and publish much. His productions were the following.

1. “A Plain Account of Genuine Christianity.” 12mo, 12 pages. This was simply a reprint of the conclusion of Wesley’s letter to Dr. Middleton, published in 1749. Wesley’s description of a Christian, and of Christian faith, in this little tract, deserves the reader’s best attention.

2. “An Extract of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Journal, from February 16, 1755, to June 16, 1758.” 12mo, 146 pages.

3. “Select Hymns: with Tunes Annexed: designed chiefly for the Use of the People called Methodists.” 12mo, 139 pages. Would that the Methodists of the present day would sing the tunes furnished by their founder, instead of leaving choirs to repeat, parrot like, the inane noises now too generally attached to Charles Wesley’s glorious and glowing hymns, and which, by a monstrous perversion of truth, taste, and language, are considered sacred music of pure and classic type. We are weary of such singing in Methodist chapels, and most deeply deplore the day when, by some mistaken theoriser, it was introduced. It is devouring the very vitals of Methodistic worship, and no more harmonizes with the Wesley hymns than an automatic scarecrow with a breathing, living man.

Musicians, in Wesley’s day, were as self conceited and as obstinate as musicians now. In the preface to his Tunes Annexed, he tells us:

“I have been endeavouring, for more than twenty years, to procure such a book as this; but in vain. Masters of music were above following any direction but their own; and I was determined, whoever compiled this should follow my direction: not mending our tunes, but setting them down, neither better nor worse than they were. At length, I have prevailed. The following collection contains all the tunes which are in common use among us. They are pricked true, exactly as I desire all our congregations may sing them; and here is prefixed to them a collection of those hymns which are, I think, some of the best we have published. The volume likewise is small, as well as the price. This, therefore, I recommend, preferable to all others.”

Appended to the tunes are Wesley’s well known directions concerning singing, which it would be well if all his societies would follow. Wesley himself was full of music, and to this, in great part, may be attributed the glorious singing of the early Methodists. With such a leader, and with their hearts full of the love of God, it is not surprising that their service of praise has become proverbial. They sang with the spirit, and with the understanding also.

It may be added here, once for all, that Wesley’s book of music, with some variations and improvements, was republished in several succeeding years, with the altered titles of “Sacred Melody; or, a Choice Collection of Psalm and Hymn Tunes”; and “Sacred Harmony: or, a Choice Collection of Psalm and Hymn Tunes, in two or three Parts—for the Voice, Harpsichord, and Organ.” These editions are now before us; but further description is unnecessary.