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

by L. Tyerman

1762

1762
Age 59

WHITEFIELD and Charles Wesley were still invalids, and, though they preached with more or less frequency, their evangelistic labours, in 1762, were limited when compared with the labours of former years.

Wesley began the year with a grand service, in the chapel at Spitalfields, at which nearly two thousand members of the London society were present. Besides Berridge and Maxfield, he was assisted by Benjamin Colley, a young man, born at Tollerton, near Easingwold, who had recently received episcopal ordination, and was now officiating, as a clergyman, in Methodist chapels. His ministerial gifts were small;[467] but his piety was sincere and earnest. Strangely enough, this young Yorkshire Levite was carried away by the fanatical enthusiasm of Bell and Maxfield (to be noticed shortly), and though he did not live more than half-a-dozen years afterwards, his life was clouded, and not what it might have been.[468]

The remarkable work of sanctification was rapidly spreading throughout the whole of the United Kingdom. Wesley wrote:

“Many have been convinced of sin, many justified, and many backsliders healed. But the peculiar work of this season has been, what St. Paul calls ‘the perfecting of the saints.’ Many persons in London, in Bristol, in York, and in various parts, both of England and Ireland, have experienced so deep and universal a change, as it had not entered into their hearts to conceive. After a deep conviction of inbred sin, of their total fall from God, they have been so filled with faith and love (and generally in a moment), that sin vanished, and they found, from that time, no pride, anger, desire, or unbelief. They could rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks. Now, whether we call this the destruction or suspension of sin, it is a glorious work of God; such a work as, considering both the depth and extent of it, we never saw in these kingdoms before. It is possible some have been mistaken; and it is certain some have lost what they then received. A few (very few, compared to the whole number) first gave way to enthusiasm, then to pride, next to prejudice and offence, and at last separated from their brethren. But although this laid a huge stumbling block in the way, still the work of God went on. Nor has it ceased to this day in any of its branches. God still convinces, justifies, sanctifies. We have lost only the dross, the enthusiasm, the prejudice, and offence. The pure gold remains, faith working by love, and, we have ground to believe, increases daily.”[469]

This was written at the end of 1763. On the last day of 1762, Wesley remarked in his Journal: “I looked back on the past year; a year of uncommon trials and uncommon blessings. Abundance have been convinced of sin; very many have found peace with God; and, in London only, I believe full two hundred have been brought into glorious liberty. And, yet, I have had more care and trouble in six months, than in several years preceding. What the end will be, I know not; but it is enough that God knoweth.”

To understand Wesley’s allusions here, we must briefly glance at the history of two of the principal men concerned.

Thomas Maxfield was one of Wesley’s first preachers. For more than twenty years, he had acted under Wesley’s direction. His origin in Bristol was humble, but he had married a wife with considerable fortune. At Wesley’s instigation, a friend had recommended him to Dr. Barnard, bishop of Londonderry, for ordination. The bishop said, “Sir, I ordain you, to assist that good man, that he may not work himself to death.”[470] Maxfield thus became one of Wesley’s most important preachers; and, perhaps, this was one of the reasons why not a few regarded him with envy. At all events, many censured him; and Wesley “continually and strenuously defended him; thereby offending several of his preachers, and a great number of his people.”

As early as 1760, Wesley had appointed Maxfield to meet, every Friday, a sort of select band in London, consisting of Messrs. Biggs, Latlets, Calvert, and Dixon,[471] all of whom professed to be entirely sanctified. Some of these favoured ones soon had dreams, visions, and impressions, as they thought, from God; and Maxfield, instead of repressing their whimsies, encouraged them. Presently, their visions created contempt for those who had them not; and were regarded as proofs of the highest grace. Some of the preachers opposed these holy visionaries with a considerable amount of roughness. This excited their resentment. They refused to hear their rebukers preach, and followed after Maxfield. Their numbers multiplied; and Maxfield told them, they were not to be taught by man, especially by those who had less grace than themselves. The result was, when Wesley returned to London in October, 1762, he found the society in an uproar, and Maxfield’s friends formed into a sort of detached connexion. Enthusiasm, pride, and intense uncharitableness were now the chief characteristics of these high professors. Wesley tenderly reproved them. One of them resented, and cried out, “We will not be browbeaten any longer; we will throw off the mask;” and, accordingly, returned her own and her husband’s tickets, saying, “Sir, we will have no more to do with you; Mr. Maxfield is our teacher.”

At the conference of 1761, Maxfield had been arraigned, for some misdemeanour not specified; but Wesley spoke in his defence, and silenced his accusers.[472] Still Wesley was in doubt concerning him, and wrote him a long letter, telling him mildly all he heard or feared concerning him. Maxfield resented, and said he had no thought of a separation, and that Wesley was at liberty to call him John or Judas, Moses or Korah, as he pleased. He alleged, that Wesley and his brother contradicted the highest truths; and that almost all who “called themselves ministers of Christ, or preachers of Christ, contended for sin to remain in the heart as long as we live, as though it was the only thing Christ delighted to behold in His members.”

George Bell, a native of Barningham, near Barnard castle, had been a corporal in the Life Guards. He was converted in the year 1758, and pretended to be sanctified in the month of March, 1761. A few days afterwards, he wrote an account of this to Wesley, in a letter tinged with a frenzy, which Wesley was too ready to regard as the breathings of a superior piety.[473] Bell soon developed into a full blown enthusiast, and helped to taint not a few of his Methodist associates. He began to hold meetings of his own, declaring, that God had done with all preachings and sacraments, and was to be found nowhere but in the assemblies of himself and his London friends.[474] He diligently propagated the principle, that “none could teach those who are renewed in love, unless they were in the state themselves.”[475] His admirers fancied themselves more holy than our first parents, and incapable of falling. They professed to have the gift of healing, and actually attempted to give eyesight to the blind, and to raise the dead.[476] From a misconstrued text in the Revelation, they inferred, that they were to be exempt from death.[477] Wesley writes, on November 24, 1762: “Being determined to hear for myself, I stood where I could hear and see, without being seen. George Bell prayed, in the whole, pretty near an hour. His fervour of spirit I could not but admire. I afterwards told him what I did not admire; namely, (1) his screaming, every now and then, in so strange a manner, that one could scarce tell what he said; (2) his thinking he had the miraculous discernment of spirits; and, (3) his sharply condemning his opposers.”

Meanwhile, Wesley and his brother had an interview with Maxfield, and found that, in some things, he had been blamed without a cause; other things he promised to alter. On November 1, 1762, Wesley sent to Maxfield, Bell, and others, a written statement of what he liked and disliked in their doctrine, spirit, and behaviour. In reference to the first, he says, he liked their “doctrine of perfection or love excluding sin; their insisting that it is merely by faith; that it is instantaneous, though preceded and followed by a gradual work; and, that it may be now, at this instant.” But he disliked their “supposing man may be as perfect as an angel; that he can be absolutely perfect; that he can be infallible, or above being tempted; or, that the moment he is pure in heart, he cannot fall from it.” He disliked their “depreciating justification, by saying a justified person is not born of God, and that he cannot please God, nor grow in grace.” He disliked their doctrine, that a sanctified person needs no self examination, no private prayer; and that he cannot be taught by any one who is not in the same state as himself.

Then, in reference to their spirit, he told them, that he liked their confidence in God, and their zeal for the salvation of sinners; but he disliked (1) their appearance of pride, of overvaluing themselves, and undervaluing others; (2) their enthusiasm, namely, overvaluing feelings and impressions, mistaking the mere work of the imagination for the voice of the Spirit, expecting the end without the means, and undervaluing reason, knowledge, and wisdom in general; (3) their antinomianism, in not magnifying the law enough, in not sufficiently valuing tenderness of conscience, and in using faith rather as contradistinguished from holiness than as productive of it; and (4), their littleness of love to their brethren, their want of union with them, their want of meekness, their impatience of contradiction, their counting every man an enemy who reproved or admonished them in love, their bigotry and narrowness of spirit, and their censoriousness or proneness to think hardly of all who did not agree with them.

As to their outward behaviour, he liked “the general tenour of their life, devoted to God, and spent in doing good”; but he disliked their slighting any of the rules of the society; their appointing meetings which hindered people attending the public preaching; their spending more time in their meetings than many of them could spare from the duties of their calling; the speaking or praying of several of them at once; their praying to the Son of God only, or more than to the Father; their using bold, pompous, magnificent, if not irreverent, expressions in prayer; their extolling themselves rather than God, and telling Him what they were, not what they wanted; their using poor, flat, bald hymns; their never kneeling at prayer, and using postures or gestures highly indecent; their screaming so as to make what they said unintelligible; their affirming people will be justified or sanctified just now, and bidding them say, ‘I believe’; and their bitterly condemning all who oppose them, calling them wolves, and pronouncing them hypocrites, or not justified.”

This is a mournful picture, especially of people making such high professions. The result was, the London society was thrown into great confusion. Wesley writes: “1762, November 8—I began visiting the classes; in many of which we had hot spirits to deal with. Some were vehement for, some against, the meetings for prayer, which were in several parts of the town. I said little, being afraid of taking any step which I might afterwards repent of.”

The delay in the exercise of discipline was too long. For twelve months, Wesley had seen it necessary to deal with these enthusiasts. At the beginning of 1762, he wrote to his brother: “If Thomas Maxfield continue as he is, it is impossible he should long continue with us. But I live in hope of better things. This week, I have begun to speak my mind concerning five or six honest enthusiasts. But I move only a hair’s breadth at a time. No sharpness will profit. There is need of a lady’s hand, as well as a lion’s heart.”

We incline to think Wesley used the lady’s hand too long, and that the lion’s paw would have been far more useful. At length, however, he began to preach on the subject. On December 5, 1762, he endeavoured to show in what sense sanctification is gradual, and in what sense it is instantaneous. A fortnight later, he preached on Christian simplicity, showing that it is not ignorance or folly, nor enthusiasm or credulity; but faith, humility, willingness to be taught, and freedom from evil reasonings. Despite all this, Bell waxed worse and worse; and, on December 26, Wesley desired him to take no further part in the services at West Street, or at the Foundery. “The reproach of Christ,” he writes, “I am willing to bear; but not the reproach of enthusiasm, if I can help it.” In a manuscript letter, dated “London, January 28, 1763,” Sarah Crosby writes:

“There has been much confusion here. The simple brethren keep meeting at various places, brother Bell being their chief speaker. The substance of what they say is, ‘Believe, and be simple. Believe all that is in the word of God, and all that is not there,—that is, if anything is revealed to you.’ They say they have a great gift in discerning spirits; but others dispute it. Nevertheless, I think they are good folk, and there has been a great outpouring of the Spirit in London these two or three years past.”

About the same time, Fletcher of Madeley wrote to Charles Wesley—

“I have a particular regard for Mr. Maxfield and Mr. Bell; both of them are my correspondents. I am strongly prejudiced in favour of the witnesses, and do not willingly receive what is said against them; but allowing that what is reported is one half mere exaggeration, the tenth part of the rest shows that spiritual pride, presumption, arrogance, stubbornness, party spirit, uncharitableness, prophetic mistakes,—in short, every sinew of enthusiasm, is now at work among them. I do not credit any one’s bare word; but I ground my sentiments on Bell’s own letters.”[478]

Bell consummated his fanaticism, by prophesying that the world would be brought to an end on February 28, 1763; and, strange to say, not a few believed him. The evil spread. Wesley preached sermons on the sin of division, and on judging; but what he said was “turned into poison” by those who needed his admonitions; and one of the friends of Bell remarked: “If the devil had been in the pulpit, he would not have preached such a sermon.” Meanwhile, Maxfield was privately promoting disunion, telling the people that Wesley was not capable of teaching them, and insinuating that no one was except himself. Mrs. Coventry came to Wesley, and threw down the tickets of herself, her husband, her daughters, and her servants, declaring that “they would hear two doctrines no longer, and that Mr. Maxfield preached perfection, but Mr. Wesley pulled it down.” About a dozen others, including Bell, copied Mrs. Coventry’s example. Maxfield, in a huff, removed his meeting of the sanctified from the Foundery, because Wesley instructed his preachers to be present at it, whenever he was not able to be there himself. One of the seceders told Wesley to his face, that he was a hypocrite, and, for that reason, they had resolved to have no further fellowship with him. About thirty, who thought themselves sanctified, had left the society; but there were above four hundred others, who witnessed the same confession, and seemed more united than ever.

Meanwhile, the 28th of February, 1763—George Bell’s day of judgment—drew nigh. Wesley denounced the mad corporal’s prognostication, in private, in the society meetings, in the pulpit, and, at length, in the public papers. He says that Maxfield was silent on the subject, and that he had reason to think he was a believer in Bell’s prophecy; though Maxfield himself afterwards denied that this was true.[479] Be that as it might, a number of Maxfield’s followers spent the night at the house of his most intimate friend, Mr. Biggs, every moment in full expectation of hearing the blast of the archangel’s trumpet.

On the day previous to the predicted final catastrophe, Bell and his believers ascended a mound near the site of St. Luke’s hospital, to have a last look at the city before its conflagration;[480] but, unfortunately for the mad prophet, two constables, with a warrant, arrested him, and carried him first before a magistrate in Long Acre, and then before another in Southwark, as it was there, “in an unlicensed meeting-house, that he had often vented his blasphemies.” The Borough magistrate committed him to the new prison, there to await the fulfilment of his prediction.[481] “I am sorry,” writes Whitefield, “to find that Mr. Bell is taken up. To take no notice would be the best method. A prison or outward punishment is but a poor cure for enthusiasm, or a disordered understanding. It may increase but not extinguish such an ignis fatuus.”[482]

On the evening of what was to be the world’s last day, Wesley preached at Spitalfields, on “Prepare to meet thy God”; and largely showed the utter absurdity of the supposition, that the world was to end as Bell predicted; but, notwithstanding all that he could say, many were afraid to go to bed, and some wandered in the fields, being persuaded that, if the world at large did not become a wreck, at all events an earthquake would engulf London.

Of course, Bell’s insane ravings turned out to be a fantastic falsehood; but the injury done to Methodism was serious. A writer, signing himself “Philodemas,” sent an abusive letter to Lloyd’s Evening Post, stating that, on going to a friend’s house on the evening of February 28, he found the family in the utmost consternation, because they were momentarily expecting the world to be dissolved; and then he proceeds to denounce Methodism as “the most destructive and dangerous system to government and society that ever was established. Neither good subjects, good servants, nor good wives could reasonably be expected to be found amongst the Methodists. Nursed up in enthusiasm and pretended miracles, attended with the dangerous doctrine of assuring grace, they had learned to look upon the rest of their fellow creatures as a set of wretches reserved for vengeance hereafter. There was scarce a street in the metropolis, where the common people lived, but what was infected, more or less, with this heretical system; some boasting their sins were forgiven; some in despair; many raving mad; and others neglecting their necessary occupations for the sake of it, and living in beggary and misery.”[483]

Wesley replied to this as follows.

“March 18, 1763.

“Sir,—A pert, empty, self sufficient man, who calls himself ‘Philodemas,’ made use of your paper, a few days ago, to throw abundance of dirt at the people called Methodists. He takes occasion from the idle prophecy of Mr. Bell, with whom the Methodists have nothing to do, as he is not, nor has been for some time, a member of their society. Had he advanced anything new, or any particular charge, it would have deserved a particular answer. But, as his letter contains nothing but dull, stale, general slanders, which have been confuted ten times over, it would be abusing the patience of your readers to say any more concerning it.

“I am, sir, your humble servant,

“John Wesley.”[484]

After all, this deplorable outburst of fanaticism, in the London society, was not without good results. It was now, in 1763, that Wesley wrote his important sermon on “Sin in Believers,” in which he says: “I cannot, by any means, receive this assertion, that there is no sin in a believer from the moment he is justified; first, because it is contrary to the whole tenour of Scripture; secondly, because it is contrary to the experience of the children of God; thirdly, because it is absolutely new, never heard of in the world till yesterday, when those under the direction of the late Count Zinzendorf preached it; and lastly, because it is naturally attended with the most fatal consequences; not only grieving those whom God hath not grieved, but perhaps dragging them into everlasting perdition.”

It was now also, that Wesley published his “Cautions and Directions given to the greatest Professors in the Methodist societies;” which, in brief, were as follows: 1. Watch and pray continually against pride. 2. Beware of enthusiasm. 3. Beware of antinomianism. 4. Beware of sins of omission. 5. Beware of desiring anything but God. 6. Beware of schism. 7. Be exemplary in all things. The reader, who wishes to have a full view of the extravagances of those who professed sanctification in 1762, will do well to read Wesley’s “Cautions and Directions,” at length, as elaborated by himself. An enormous evil had sprung up, and it was one of the greatest facts of his eventful life, that Wesley was able to check the bad and to preserve the good.

On April 28, 1763, Maxfield fully and finally separated himself from Wesley, the latter taking as his text on the occasion, “If I am bereaved of my children, I am bereaved.” In 1767, Maxfield, in his vindication of himself, gave his views of sanctification,—views misty, mystical, and muddy, and, to say the least, widely different from those of Wesley.

He became Wesley’s enemy. “He spake,” says Wesley, “all manner of evil of me, his father, his friend, his greatest earthly benefactor. To Mr. M——n he said, ‘Mr. Wesley believed and countenanced all which Mr. Bell said; and the reason of our parting was this: he said to me one day,—Tommy, I will tell the people you are the greatest gospel preacher in England; and you shall tell them I am the greatest! For refusing to do this, Mr. Wesley put me away!’”

That Maxfield should utter such calumnies is almost incredible; and yet, it is certain that, in his “Vindication,” he writes of his old friend in terms not the most respectful. He talks of Wesley’s “penny history of Methodism”; whines about Wesley injuring his character, and thereby his usefulness; complains of Wesley keeping scores, if not hundreds, of his spiritual children from him; declares that, while he disapproved of Bell’s proceedings, Wesley encouraged them; taunts him with having been guilty of the same enthusiasm as Bell by his gloomy prophecies concerning Dr. Halley’s comet; asserts, that the reasons Bell assigned for leaving Wesley were his “double dealings and unfaithful proceedings”; and says that, in a society meeting at the Foundery, Wesley boastfully glorified himself, with the following epitaph of Philip of Macedon:—

“Here Philip lies, on the Dalmatian shore,

Who did what mortal never did before.

Yet, if there’s one who boasts he more hath done,

To me he owes it, for he was my son.”

Maxfield lived twenty years after this separation. He took with him about two hundred of Wesley’s London society, and preached to a large congregation in a chapel in Ropemaker’s Alley, Little Moorfields. Towards the close of life he again became friendly with the Methodists; and Wesley visited him in his last illness, and also preached in his chapel.[485] In 1766, Maxfield published a hymn-book of more than four hundred pages, many of his hymns being selections from those published by his old friends, the Wesleys. In the preface, he still complains of persecution, in being represented as “heading a party of wild enthusiasts”; but says, “such a groundless charge deserves no answer,” and appeals to his hymn-book as a proof.

George Bell, for many years, was Maxfield’s survivor, but made no pretension to religion. “He recovered his senses,” says Southey, “to make a deplorable use of them; passing from one extreme to another, the ignorant enthusiast became an ignorant infidel; turned fanatic in politics, as he had done in religion; and, having gone through all the degrees of disaffection and disloyalty, died, at a great age, a radical reformer.”

We only add that, in 1762, Charles Wesley, who had been laid aside by ill health from preaching, published, in two volumes, his “Short Hymns on Select Passages of the Holy Scriptures,” in the preface to which he says: “Several of the hymns are intended to prove, and several to guard, the doctrine of Christian perfection. I durst not publish one without the other. In the latter sort I use some severity; not against particular persons, but against enthusiasts and antinomians, who, by not living up to their profession, give abundant occasion to them that seek it, and cause the truth to be evil spoken of.”

Mr. Jackson writes:

“Until this time, it had been understood, that Mr. Charles Wesley agreed with his brother on this as well as every other doctrine of Christian verity; although he had repeatedly used unguarded expressions in his hymns, which could not be justified. But now his views on this subject appear to have undergone a change, in consequence of the extravagance and pride of which he was a distressed witness. He did not, from this time, contend, as do many, for the necessary continuance of indwelling sin till death; but he spoke of Christian perfection as a much higher attainment than either he or his brother had previously regarded it. In his estimation, it is not to be obtained by a present act of faith in the mercy, truth, and power of God; but is rather the result of severe discipline, comprehending affliction, temptation, long continued labour, and the persevering exercise of faith in seasons of spiritual darkness, when the heart is wrung with bitter anguish. By this painful and lingering process, he believed that the death of ‘the old man’ is effected, and a maturity is given to all the graces of the Christian character. Hence, he condemned ‘the witnesses,’ as he called them; that is, the persons who testified of the time and manner in which they were delivered from the root of sin, and made perfect in love, regarding them as self deceived. In some of his ‘Short Hymns,’ he has given considerable importance to these peculiarities of opinion.

“This change in Mr. Charles Wesley’s manner of speaking on the subject of Christian perfection, as might be expected, gave considerable uneasiness to his brother, who felt it to be very undesirable that they should even seem to contradict each other in their ministry and writings. In a letter, therefore, to Miss Furley, he says, ‘Take care you are not hurt by anything in the “Short Hymns,” contrary to the doctrines you have long received.’ And, on the same subject, he also says, in a letter to Charles,—‘That perfection which I believe, I can boldly preach; because I think I see five hundred witnesses of it. Of that perfection which you preach, you think you do not see any witness at all. Why, then, you must have far more courage than me, or you could not persist in preaching it. I wonder you do not, in this article, fall in plumb with Mr. Whitefield. For do not you, as well as he, ask, “Where are the perfect ones?” I verily believe there are none upon earth; none dwelling in the body. I cordially assent to his opinion, that there is no such perfection here as you describe; at least, I never met with an instance of it; and I doubt I never shall. Therefore I still think, to set perfection so high is effectually to renounce it.’

“At a subsequent period, he again addressed Charles on the same subject. ‘Some thoughts,’ says he, ‘occurred to my mind this morning, which, I believe, it may be useful to set down; the rather, because it may be a means of our understanding each other clearly; that we may agree as far as ever we can, and then let all the world know it.

“‘I was thinking on Christian perfection, with regard to the thing, the manner, and the time.

“‘1. By perfection I mean the humble, gentle, patient love of God and man, ruling all the tempers, words, and actions; the whole heart, and the whole life.

“‘I do not include a possibility of falling from it, either in part or in whole. Therefore, I retract several expressions in our hymns, which partly express, partly imply, such an impossibility. And I do not contend for the term sinless, though I do not object against it. Do we agree or differ here? If we differ, wherein?

“‘2. As to the manner, I believe this perfection is always wrought in the soul by faith, by a simple act of faith; consequently, in an instant. But I believe a gradual work, both preceding and following that instant. Do we agree or differ here?

“‘3. As to the time, I believe this instant generally is the instant of death, the moment before the soul leaves the body. But I believe it may be ten, twenty, or forty years before death. Do we agree or differ here?

“‘I believe it is usually many years after justification; but that it may be within five years, or five months after it. I know no conclusive argument to the contrary. Do you?

“‘If it must be many years after justification, I would be glad to know how many. Pretium quotus arrogat annus? And how many days, or months, or even years, can you allow to be between perfection and death? How far from justification must it be? and how near to death?

“‘If it be possible, let you and me come to a good understanding, both for our own sakes, and for the sake of the people.’

“What answer Mr. Charles Wesley returned to this candid and sensible letter, we have no means of ascertaining.”[486]

The reader must excuse this long digression, on the ground, (1) That the enthusiasm of this period was one of the great events in Wesley’s history, and issued not only in a disruption of the London society, but in serious results which were more than coeval with Wesley’s life. John Pawson, in a manuscript letter, dated “London, January 13, 1796,” remarks: “We have a very blessed work here; but the old people are so afraid of George Bell’s work returning, that they can hardly be persuaded it is the work of God, because of a little disorder that attends it.” And a month later, he writes: “The good work is not so lively as it was. This, I think, has been chiefly caused by the old members being so exceedingly afraid of George Bell’s days. An excess of prudence has hindered it.” We have here, thirty-three years after Maxfield and Bell’s secession, one of the effects of their fanatical behaviour. Then, (2) it must be borne in mind, that it was not until now that the doctrine of Christian perfection, attainable in an instant, by a simple act of faith, was made prominent in Methodist congregations; but that, ever after, it was one of the chief topics of Wesley’s ministry, and that of his itinerant preachers. Of this we shall have ample proof in succeeding pages.

We now return to Wesley’s Journal, and follow him in his peregrinations, during the year 1762. “This year,” says he, “from the beginning to the end, was a year never to be forgotten. Such a season I never saw before. Such a multitude of sinners were converted, in all parts both of England and Ireland, and so many were filled with pure love.”[487]

On January 2, he set out for Everton, to supply for Berridge, who was hard at work in London, and whose church and pulpit he occupied on two successive Sundays, preaching to large and lively congregations; but not now witnessing there any of the extravagances which had been so manifest a few years before. “Indeed,” says Wesley, “the people were now in danger of running from east to west. Instead of thinking, as many did then, that none can possibly have true faith but those that have trances, they were now ready to think, that whoever had anything of this kind had no faith.”

During his sojourn at Everton, Wesley visited many of the surrounding villages, and everywhere testified the gospel of the grace of God. Though it was the depth of winter, he preached at Harston by moonlight. In every place, crowds flocked to hear him. Some cried out in great distress, others dropped down as dead; and several found peace with God.

On January 12 he came to Norwich, where he excluded two hundred members, because they neglected to meet in class; and left about four hundred remaining, “half of whom appeared to be in earnest.”

Returning to London on January 23, he writes: “I had a striking proof, that God can teach by whom He will teach. A man full of words, but not of understanding, convinced me of what I could never see before, that anima est ex traduce, that all the souls of his posterity, as well as their bodies, were in our first parent.”

On the 15th of March, Wesley left London for Ireland, taking Bristol and Wales on his way. He arrived at Dublin about three weeks afterwards. For the first time, he now saw Dublin chapel “throughly filled.”

On April 19, he started on his tour through the Irish provinces. At Newry, the society had been reduced from nearly a hundred members to thirty-two. At Carrickfergus, he had to delay the morning preaching, because “the delicate and curious hearers could not possibly rise before ten o’clock.” At Belfast, he preached in the market house. At Newtown, “the poor shattered society was reduced from fifty to eighteen members,” which were doubled, however, before he left. At Lisburn he had “many rich and gentle hearers.” At Lurgan he had, what he had long desired, an opportunity of conversing with Mr. Miller, who had executed a piece of mechanism “the like of which was not to be seen in Europe.” At Clanmain, he opened the new chapel. At Enniskillen, “the inhabitants gloried, that they had no papist in the town.” At Sligo, he preached to “abundance of dragoons, and many of their officers;” a company of strolling players acting in the upper part of the market house, while the Methodists sang hymns below.

It was either here, or somewhere else in Ireland, that Wesley met with an adventure worth relating. The scene is a public house, the spectators a number of Irish tipplers; the performers in the drama, Wesley, a termagant landlady, and a starving player. The last mentioned reclines on a wooden couch in the chimney corner, arrayed in a motley dress that, like its owner, seemed to have seen better days. The landlady, addressing him in furious tones, bawls rather than speaks: “Turn out, you pitiable ragamuffin; plenty of promises, but no money; either pay your way, or you and your doll of a wife turn out.” Just at this juncture, Wesley enters, and the terrible tongued woman, in an instant, becomes one of the mildest of Abigails. “Dear sir,” she says, “I am glad you’re come; this man, sir, is a very bad man, sir; as you said in your sermon yesterday, ‘He that oppresseth the poor is a bad man,’ sir.” “What has he done?” asks Wesley. “Why, sir, I have kept him and his wife for a fortnight, and have never seen the colour of his money. Three crowns is my due, and I’ll have it, if law can get it.” “Who is this gentleman?” “Who is he? why he is one of those you preach against, one of your player men. I wish you could preach them out of the town. Why, sir, they are all starving. I don’t think this man has got a good meal for a fortnight, except what I have given him, and now you see his gratitude.” Wesley approached the poor, starving, dejected actor, and said: “You serve the stage, young man; would I could teach you to serve your God; you would find Him a better Master. Pardon me, I mean not to upbraid you, or to hurt your feelings. My Master sent you this;” putting into his hand a guinea; “retire, and thank Him.” “Who is your master?” cried the actor; “where and how shall I thank him?” “God is my Master; return Him thanks.” “How?” “On your knees when in private; in public at all times, in your principles and in your practice; farewell, go comfort your wife and children.” The poor, astonished player, though a dealer in words, was dumbfoundered, and sobbing a gratitude which he was not able to articulate, he left the room. “Three crowns is your demand on our afflicted brother?” said Wesley to the termagant. “Yes, sir, fifteen shillings; and if he does not pay me, I’ll seize his rags upstairs, sell them, and pay myself.” “I will pay you,” said Wesley; “but what can you think of yourself? How terrible will be your condition on your death bed, calling for that mercy, which you refuse to a fellow creature! I shudder whilst under your roof, and leave it, as I would the pestilence. May the Lord pardon your sins!” With this, he put fifteen shillings on the table, and made his exit. “Pardon my sins?” quoth the irate female tapster; “pardon my sins, indeed! and why not his own? I’ll warrant he has as much to answer for as I have; getting a parcel of people together, that ought to be minding their work. Why it was only yesterday, he was preaching everybody to the devil that encouraged the players, and to-day he is the first to do it himself.” “This gentleman is a clergyman, I suppose,” said one of the spectators. “A clergyman!” replied the landlady; “not he, indeed; it’s only John Wesley, the Methodist, that goes preaching up and down, and draws all the idle vagabonds of the country after him.”[488]

Space forbids our following Wesley to Longford, Athlone, Hollymount, Newport, Galway (where all the society were young women), Limerick, Cork, Youghal, Kinsale, Bandon, Waterford, Kilkenny, Birr, Portarlington, and other places. “Poor, dead Portarlington!” writes Wesley; “and no wonder it should be so, while the preachers coop themselves up in a room with twenty or thirty hearers. I went straight to the market place, and cried aloud, ‘Hearken! behold a sower went forth to sow.’ God made His word quick and powerful, and sharp as a two-edged sword.”

Wesley got back to Dublin on July 26, and, a few days afterwards, embarked for England.

On reviewing the work in Ireland, he says that, in Dublin, he found forty persons who professed to have obtained the blessing of entire sanctification within the last four months. Contrasting the work there with that in London, he writes:

“1. It is far greater in Dublin than in London, in proportion to the time and the number of the people. That society had above seven-and-twenty hundred members; this not above a fifth part of the number. Six months after the flame broke out in London, we had about thirty witnesses of the great salvation. In Dublin, there were above forty in less than four months.

“2. The work was more pure. In all this time, while they were mildly and tenderly treated, there were none of them headstrong or unadvisable; none that were wiser than their teachers; none who dreamed of being immortal or infallible, or incapable of temptation; in short, no whimsical, or enthusiastic persons; all were calm and sober minded. I know several of these were, in process of time, moved from their stedfastness. I am nothing surprised at this; it was no more than might be expected; I rather wonder, that more were not moved. Nor does this, in any degree, alter my judgment concerning the great work which God then wrought.”

In Limerick, the society was stirred up by Wesley to seek entire deliverance from sin; and, in a few weeks, ten women and thirteen men professed to obtain the blessing. This Wesley considered a greater work than even that at Dublin.

On reaching England, he found, at Chester, about a dozen who believed themselves sanctified, and whose lives did not contradict their profession. At Liverpool, where the work of sanctification had begun in the previous month of March, he spoke severally with those who said they had been fully saved from sin. They were fifty-one in number; twenty-one men, twenty-one women, and nine young people or children. In one of these, the change was wrought three weeks after she was justified; in three, one week; in one, five days; and in Sus. Lutwich, aged fourteen, two days only. At Macclesfield, he spoke to forty, one by one, who believed the blood of Christ had cleansed them from all unrighteousness. He writes: “Some of them said they received that blessing ten days, some seven, some four, some three days, after they found peace with God; and two of them the next day. What marvel, since one day is with God as a thousand years!” At Manchester, he spoke with sixty-three who “believed God had cleansed their hearts; to about sixty of whom he could find no reasonable objection.”

We give these facts as we find them. The reader will form his own opinion concerning them.

On August 10, Wesley met his conference, at Leeds, at which were present Lady Huntingdon, with the Revs. Messrs. C. Wesley, Whitefield, Romaine, Madan, and Venn.[489] Of the proceedings of this conference we know nothing. Wesley simply says: “We had great reason to praise God for His gracious presence from the beginning to the end.”

Wesley got back to London on the 19th of August, and, four days afterwards, set out for Cornwall. When he began service at Exeter, his congregation consisted of two women and one man. “This,” says he, “comes of omitting field preaching.” He himself went out of doors, and preached, on Southernhay green, to “a multitude of people; but a lewd, profane, drunken vagabond had so stirred up many of the baser sort, that there was much noise, hurry, and confusion.”

At Polperro, he had abundance of people; but “an old, grey-headed sinner bitterly cursed all the Methodists.”

At Truro, he expected some disturbance, as it was market day; but all was quiet. “Indeed,” says he, “both persecution and popular tumult seem to be forgotten in Cornwall.” Here resided a clergyman, Mr. C——, who was also a magistrate, but had not always been as peaceable as now. Some years before, a Methodist preacher, at his instigation, was arrested as a vagrant. To his astonishment, the vagrant turned out to be Wesley, an old college acquaintance at Oxford. His worship, however, proceeded, in severe language, to censure Wesley’s irregular proceedings; when, all at once, the floor of the room, which was filled with spectators, fell; the magistrate was hurled from his judicial chair; his wig flew off his head; the table, with its pens, ink, and paper, was overturned; while screams from all sides increased the general confusion. When order was restored, and the clerical functionary was once more seated, Wesley, with his characteristic coolness asked, “Well, sir, shall we proceed further in this business?” “No, no,” replied the magistrate, “go your way, go your way, Mr. Wesley; ‘sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’” After this affair, Wesley had no farther trouble from his reverend acquaintance, Mr. C——.[490]

Wesley spent a month in visiting the Cornish societies, and held the quarterly meeting of the stewards of the two circuits into which the county was divided. He writes concerning the eastern circuit: “What a change is wrought in one year’s time! That detestable practice of cheating the king is no more found in our societies. And since that accursed thing has been put away, the work of God has everywhere increased.”

It is a remarkable fact, however, that he mentions no instances of sanctification during his Cornish tour; but remarks: “The more I converse with believers in Cornwall, the more I am convinced, that they have sustained great loss for the want of hearing the doctrine of Christian perfection clearly and strongly enforced. I see, wherever this is not done, the believers grow dead and cold. Nor can this be prevented, out by keeping up in them an hourly expectation of being perfected in love. I say an hourly expectation; for to expect it at death, or some time hence, is much the same as not expecting it at all.”

Wesley returned to London on November 6, reading on the road “The Death of Abel,” concerning which he characteristically observes: “That manner of writing, in prose run mad, I cordially dislike; yet, with all that disadvantage, it is excellent in its kind, as much above most modern poems as it is below ‘Paradise Lost.’”

The rest of the year was spent in the metropolis, and its immediate vicinity. He buried the remains of Jane Cooper, “a pattern of all holiness, and of the wisdom which is from above”; he transcribed his answer to Warburton; he corrected his notes on the Apocalypse; at the desire of Maxfield, he baptized two foreigners, who professed to have been Turks; and he tried to control, though far too tenderly, the insane ravings of George Bell and the high professors.

We have already mentioned the Rev. Mr. Furley, a clergyman of the Church of England, as one of Wesley’s correspondents. Mr. Furley was the brother of Miss Furley, who, in 1763, became the wife of John Downes, one of Wesley’s first preachers. The brother and sister were now resident at Kippax, near Ferrybridge, in Yorkshire; and the following letters, addressed to them during the year 1762, will be read with interest.

“London, January 25, 1762.

“Dear Sammy,—If you entangled yourself with no kind of promise to the archbishop, I doubt not but your ordination will prove a blessing. The care of a parish is, indeed, a weighty thing, which calls for much and earnest prayer. In managing it, you must needs follow your own conscience, whoever is pleased or displeased. Then, whether your success be less or more, you will, by-and-by, give up your account with joy.

“I myself hear frequently unscriptural, as well as irrational, expressions from those at whose feet I shall rejoice to be found in the day of the Lord Jesus; but blasphemy I never heard from one of them, either teacher or hearer. What is wide of Scripture or reason, I mildly reprove; and they usually receive it in love. Generally they are convinced; when I cannot convince, I can bear with them, and, indeed, rejoice at the grace of God which is in them.

“Sammy, beware of the impetuosity of your temper! It may easily lead you awry. It may make you evil affected to the excellent ones of the earth. Don’t expect propriety of speech from uneducated persons. The longer I live, the larger allowances I make for human infirmities. I exact more from myself, and less from others. Go thou and do likewise! I am, with love to Nancy,

“Your ever affectionate friend and brother,

“John Wesley.

“Take nothing, absolutely nothing, at second hand.”[491]

The next contains an invitation to Mr. Furley to meet Wesley at the conference about to be held in Leeds, and treats on, what was then the great topic of the time, Christian perfection.

“Dublin, July 30, 1762.

“Dear Sammy,—‘If I am unanswered, then I am unanswerable.’ Who can deny the consequence? By such an argument you carry all before you, and gain a complete victory. You put me in mind of the honest man, who cried out, while I was preaching, ‘Quid est tibi nomen?’ and, upon my giving no answer, called out vehemently, ‘I told you he did not understand Latin.’

“I do sometimes understand, though I do not answer. This is often the case between you and me. You love dispute, and I hate it. You have much time, and I have much work. Non sumus ergo pares. But if you will dispute the point with Nicholas Norton, he is your match. He has both leisure and love for the work.

“For me, I shall only once more state the case. There are forty or fifty people, who declare (and I can take their word, for I know them well), each for himself, ‘God has enabled me to rejoice evermore, and to pray and give thanks without ceasing. I feel no pride, no anger, no desire, no unbelief, but pure love alone.’ I ask, ‘Do you then believe you have no further need of Christ, or His atoning blood?’ Every one answers, ‘I never felt my want of Christ so deeply as I do now.’ But you think: ‘They cannot want the merit of His death, if they are saved from sin.’ They think otherwise. They know and feel the contrary, whether they can explain it, or no. There is not one, either in this city, or in this kingdom, who does not agree in this.

“Here is a plain fact. You may dispute, reason, cavil about it, just as long as you please. Meantime, I know, by all manner of proof, that these are the happiest and holiest people in the kingdom. Their light shines before men. They have the mind that was in Christ, and walk as Christ also walked. And shall I cease to rejoice over these holy, happy men, because they mistake in their judgment? If they do, I would to God you and I and all mankind were under the same mistake; provided we had the same faith, the same love, and the same inward and outward holiness!

“I am, dear Sammy, yours affectionately,

“John Wesley.

“Will you not meet us at Leeds on the 10th of August?”[492]

The next two letters were both written on the same day: the first being addressed to Mr. Furley, the second to his sister.

“St. Ives, September 15, 1762.

“Dear Sir,—I have entirely lost my taste for controversy. I have lost my readiness in disputing; and I take this to be a providential discharge from it. All I can now do, with a clear conscience, is, not to enter into a formal controversy about the new birth, or justification by faith, any more than Christian perfection, but simply to declare my judgment; and to explain myself as clearly as I can upon any difficulty that may arise out of it.

“I still say, and without any self contradiction, I know no persons living, who are so deeply conscious of their needing Christ, both as prophet, priest, and king, as those who believe themselves, and whom I believe, to be cleansed from all sin; I mean, from all pride, anger, evil desire, idolatry, and unbelief. These very persons feel more than ever their own ignorance, littleness of grace, coming short of the full mind that was in Christ, and walking less accurately than they might have done after their Divine Pattern; are more convinced of the insufficiency of all they are, have, or do, to bear the eye of God without a Mediator.

“If Mr. M—— or you say, ‘that coming short is sin’; be it so, I contend not. But still I say, ‘These are they whom I believe to be scripturally perfect.’ If in saying this, I have ‘fully given up the point,’ what would you have more? Is it not enough that I leave you to ‘boast your superior power against the little, weak shifts of baffled error?’ ‘Canst thou not be content,’ as the quaker said, ‘to lay J. W. on his back, but thou must tread his guts out?’

“O let you and I go on to perfection! God grant we may so run as to attain!

“I am your affectionate friend and brother,

“John Wesley.”[493]

“St. Ives, September 15, 1762.

“My dear Sister,—Certainly sanctification, in the proper sense, is ‘an instantaneous deliverance from all sin’; and includes ‘an instantaneous power, then given, always to cleave to God.’ Yet this sanctification (at least in the lower degrees) does not include a power never to think a useless thought, nor ever speak a useless word. I myself believe, that such a perfection is inconsistent with living in a corruptible body; for this makes it impossible ‘always to think right.’ While we breathe, we shall, more or less, mistake. If, therefore, Christian perfection implies this, we must not expect it till after death.

“I want you to be all love. This is the perfection I believe and teach. And this perfection is consistent with a thousand nervous disorders, which that high strained perfection is not. Indeed, my judgment is that, in this case particularly, to overdo is to undo; and, that to set perfection too high (so high as no man that we ever heard or read of attained) is the most effectual, because unsuspected, way of driving it out of the world. Take care you are not hurt by anything in the ‘Short Hymns,’ contrary to the doctrines you have long received. Peace be with your spirit!

“I am your affectionate brother,

“John Wesley.”[494]

We add one more letter, addressed to Mr. Furley, on this momentous subject.

“Bristol, October 13, 1762.

“My dear Brother,—As to this particular question, I believe I am able to answer every objection which can be made; but I am not able to do it without expending much time, which may be better employed. For this reason, I am persuaded it is so far from being my duty to enter into a formal controversy about it, that it would be a wilful sin; it would be employing my short residue of life in a less profitable way than it may be employed.

“The proposition which I hold is this: A person may be cleansed from all sinful tempers, and yet need the atoning blood. For what? For negligences and ignorances; for both words and actions, as well as omissions, which are, in a sense, transgressions of the perfect law. And I believe no one is clear of these, till he lays down this corruptible body.

“Now, Sammy, dropping the point of contradiction, tell me simply what you would have more. Do you believe, that evil tempers remain till death? All, or some? If some only, which? I love truth wherever I find it; so if you can help me to a little more of it, you will oblige,

“Dear Sammy, yours, etc.,

“John Wesley.”[495]

Two other letters, belonging to this period, will be welcome. Both refer to the excitement in London concerning Christian perfection, and both were addressed to his brother Charles.

“London, December 11, 1762.

“Dear Brother,—For eighteen or twenty days, I have heard with both ears, but rarely opened my mouth. I think I now understand the affair, at least as well as any person in England.

“The sum is this: 1. The meeting in Beech Lane, before I came to town, was like a bear garden; full of noise, brawling, cursing, swearing, blasphemy, and confusion. 2. Those who prayed were partly the occasion of this, by their horrid screaming, and unscriptural, enthusiastic expressions. 3. Being determined either to mend them or end them, I removed the meeting to the Foundery. 4. Immediately, the noise, brawling, cursing, swearing, blasphemy, and confusion ceased. 5. There was less and less screaming, and less unscriptural and enthusiastic language. 6. Examining the society, I found about threescore persons who had been convinced of sin, and near fourscore who were justified, at those meetings. So that, on the whole, they have done some hurt, and much good. I trust, they will now do more good, and no hurt at all. Seven persons had left the society on this account; but four of them are come back already.

“I bought the ground before Kingswood school of Margaret Ward, and paid for it with my own money. Certainly, therefore, I have a right to employ it as I please. What can any reasonable man say to the contrary?

“I have answered the bishop, and had advice upon my answer. If the devil owes him a shame, he will reply. He is a man of sense; but I verily think he does not understand Greek! Adieu!

“John Wesley.“[496]

“London, December 23, 1762.

“Dear Brother,—This is too critical a time for me to be out of London.

“I believe several in London have imagined themselves saved from sin ‘upon the word of others’; and these are easily known. For that work does not stand; such imaginations soon vanish away. Some of these, and two or three others, are still wild. But the matter does not stick here. I could play with all these, if Thomas Maxfield were right. He is mali caput et fons; so inimitably wrong headed, and so absolutely unconvincible; and yet (what is exceeding strange) God continues to bless his labours.

“My kind love to Sally. I shall soon try your patience with a long letter. Adieu!

“John Wesley.”[497]

The bishop, referred to in one of the above letters, was Warburton, bishop of Gloucester; but, as Wesley’s answer was not published till the beginning of 1763, we defer any further notice of this furious episcopal onslaught upon Wesley and his friends.

Other publications, however, must be mentioned. The following, was an octavo shilling pamphlet, which originated in a dispute in the London Chronicle; “Presbyters and Deacons not commissioned to preach without the Bishop’s Allowance. A Discourse addressed to a certain Methodist Clergyman.” The title suggests the substance of this bigoted performance.

Another harmless missile, hurled at the poor Methodists, was by the renowned translator of Plutarch’s Lives, now a young curate in the county of Essex: “Letters on Religious Retirement, Melancholy, and Enthusiasm. By John Langhorne.” 8vo, 87 pages. Dedicated to the Bishop of Gloucester. The worst thing said of Methodism is, that, though averse to popery, it holds one of its worst doctrines, namely; a pretence to plenary inspiration; and, that all the difference between the two systems is that, instead of one pope, the Methodists “find a thousand in their ignorant teachers, whom they consider as so many gods, and whose crude and undigested preachments they regard as oracles.”

A third, and infinitely worse production, was a small half-crown octavo, with the title, “A plain and easy Road to the Land of Bliss; a Turnpike set up by Mr. Orator.” The Monthly Review (no friend to Methodism) remarks concerning this miserable book: “It is a dull and indecent satire on the Methodists, in imitation, as its author imagines, of the celebrated Tale of a Tub, which it resembles in no respect whatever. It is not only contemptible for its stupidity; but in itself: is a filthy, obscene thing, for which its writer ought to be washed in a horsepond.”[498]

A fourth was the following: “A Specimen of Preaching, as practised, among the People, called Methodists. By J. Helme.” A number of phrases, said to be used by the Methodists, are here strung together, in the shape of a sermon, founded upon the text, “How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?” Helme expresses, the opinion, that the jesuits and other emissaries of the Church of Rome are at the bottom of the Methodist “schemes of nonsense and delusion”; and that “the manner in which the fanatics take upon themselves to treat the sublime truths of Christianity cannot fail to shock both the ear and the understanding of all who make any pretensions to religion or common sense.”[499]

Another hostile publication, issued in 1762, was a miscellaneous octavo volume, of 380 pages, entitled, “Various Tracts by the Rev. James Penn, A.B., under Grammar Master of Christ’s Hospital, and Lecturer of the united parishes of St. Ann and Agnes, and St. John Zachary, Aldersgate.” The reverend pedagogue tells his readers, that “Methodism, which arose from a slender beginning, is branched out into various sects, and has met with such success as to become alarming. It had its origin partly from the neglect of the superior clergy of the duties of their function; and this neglect continued is its great support. The clergy have talked, they have wrote, they have preached against the Methodists and their tenets, with justice indeed, but not without acrimony; and this has rendered their design abortive, and not a little served the cause of their adversaries. Unless some expedient is found to check the progress of the enthusiasm, it will soon become formidable, and have its spacious tabernacles in every city and county, as well as in London and Middlesex. It has encouraged a great number of laymen, many of whom are the refuse of the people, or the meanest of mechanics, to assume the ministerial office, and bellow out, in the lanes and alleys of the city, their wild notions, in a language rude, irrational, unintelligible. In their places of worship, here sits melancholy, there despair. Sighs and groans are heard from one corner; frightful and hideous looks are seen at another. The words of some speak assurance of their salvation, and an uncommon familiarity with their Maker; whilst others are overwhelmed with a horrible dread of damnation.”

The reader has had enough of the Rev. James Penn; but we add another extract, which will convey an idea of the reverend author’s principles. “A man’s character is no more to be suspected by his being at a playhouse, than at a church. All are not saints, who frequent the latter; nor are all to be accounted sinners, who go to the former. Players are no more to be condemned, because some of the audience depart unimproved, than the preacher censured, if some of his congregation should go away unedified.” In the list of subscribers to Mr. Penn’s octavo volume, the names of fifty clergymen are given.

Wesley’s works, published in 1762, were as follows.

1. “Cautions and Directions given to the greatest Professors in the Methodist Societies.” These were afterwards embodied in the “Plain Account of Christian Perfection.”

2. “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. Horne: occasioned by his late Sermon preached before the University of Oxford.” 8vo, 22 pages.

This was a pamphlet, principally on the subject of justification by faith and works. Dr. Horne was now a young man of thirty-two years of age; a thorough Hutchinsonian; and a considerable author. He subsequently became chaplain to George III.; vice chancellor of Oxford; dean of Canterbury; and, in 1790, bishop of Norwich. He was learned, pious, and benevolent; and will always be remembered for his “Commentary on the Book of Psalms.” Wesley’s letter is exceedingly respectful; as indeed it ought to be. He writes: “If I have said anything offensive, anything that implies the least degree of anger or disrespect, it was entirely foreign to my intention. Nor indeed have I any provocation. I have no room to be angry at your maintaining what you believe to be the truth of the gospel: even though I might wish you had omitted a few expressions.”

3. Another of Wesley’s publications was a small tract, entitled: “A Blow at the Root; or Christ stabbed in the House of his Friends.” 12mo, 11 pages. The title resembles the title of another pamphlet published “By an impartial Hand” some years previous,—“A Blow at the Root: or an attempt to prove that no time ever was, or very probably ever will be, so proper and convenient as the present, for introducing a further Reformation into our National Church, Universities, and Schools. Most humbly dedicated to his royal highness, William Duke of Cumberland.” The object of Wesley’s tract, however, was widely different from the object of this. His intention was to refute a heresy recently sprung up, “that Christ had done, as well as suffered, all: that His righteousness being imputed to us, we need none of our own: that, seeing there was so much righteousness and holiness in

Him, there needs no more in us; that, to think we have any, or to desire to seek any, is to renounce Christ: that, from the beginning to the end of salvation, all is in Christ, nothing in man; and that those who teach otherwise are legal preachers, and know nothing of the gospel.”

4. This was followed by another on the same subject, with the title, “Thoughts on the Imputed Righteousness of Christ,” 12mo, 11 pages. The cause of this publication was the issue of a tract, in the name of Wesley, not one word of which was his, and which, as will be seen hereafter, he found it necessary to repudiate in 1763.

This was not much for a man like Wesley to produce; but it must be remembered, that, owing to his brother’s illness, he was now single handed; and that, besides being “in journeyings often, and in perils; in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst,” there came upon him preeminently, and almost exclusively, “the care of all the churches.”