13. Again; the standard of morality was low in many of our societies, and I pleaded for the enforcement of Christian discipline. Some of our members were brewers, some publicans, some spirit-merchants, some beer-shop keepers. Old Mr. Thwaites was a publican. His son, who was both class-leader and local preacher, was both a drink-seller and a pawnbroker. And I am not certain that pawnbroking in England is not as bad a business as drink-selling. The two are nearly related and are fast friends. Drunkenness leads to pawnbroking, and pawnbroking helps drunkenness. Timothy Bentley, one of the greatest brewers in England, the poisoner-general both of the souls and bodies of the immense population of my native county, was a Methodist class-leader at Huddersfield. I once met in his class. He was a most venerable and saintly-looking man, and stood in high repute. I regarded these businesses as anti-christian, and contended that those who persisted in them after due admonition, should be expelled.
The businesses named above were not the worst. Some members of society were wholesale panders. Take the following facts. When I was sent to Liverpool I had a young man, whose name I need not give, for a bed-fellow. He was a draper, and his customers were unfortunate women. He sold to them on trust, and went round weekly to collect his money. His father, who was a leading man in the society, and his brothers, were in the same way of business. Another man who was a leading member and an official, followed the same dishonorable occupation. It was usual with those people, when their wretched customers were turned out of their houses by their landlords, to provide them with fresh houses, and even to supply them with furniture. When fairs or races were at hand, they supplied them with extra dresses and ornaments, to enable them to ply their horrible trade to better advantage. These facts I had in part from my bed-fellow, and in part from the people in whose house he kept his shop, and with whom I lived. When I came to know these things I was very uneasy; and on finding that it was unsafe to sleep with my bed-fellow, I got fresh lodgings. This vexed my bed-fellow and all his family, and made them my enemies. I spoke of these things to my superintendent, but he advised me to be cautious what I did and said in reference to such matters. And he told me a story that he had met with in a work on the ministry by an American, which he had just been reading. This author said, that out of fifty ministers whom he had known expelled from their holy office, only one or two had been expelled for immoral conduct or gross inconsistency: all the rest had been discarded on account of imprudences. This was meant to deter me from interfering either by word or deed with faulty members of society. And he backed his ungodly counsel by as bad an example. For he not only left those wicked people to pursue their evil courses undisturbed, but visited at their houses, allowed his family to receive presents from them, and, when he was leaving the circuit, did himself accept from their unclean hands a portion of their filthy gains, in the shape of a testimonial of their respect for his great abilities and distinguished virtues. This person, whose general conduct was much in keeping with the facts I have given above, though he was the foremost minister in the Connexion, proved my most persistent adversary in after life, and never rested till he had brought about my expulsion from the ministry.
14. I will mention another affair to show what notions certain members of the church had of what was required of Christians in reference to business matters. I bought some handkerchiefs of a man, a member of society, in Chester, on his assurance that they would wash. When we washed them they came to pieces. I asked the man afterwards if he was aware when he sold the handkerchiefs that they were rotten. He said he was. "Then why did you sell me them?" I asked. He said he had bought them for good ones himself, and that he could not afford to lose what he had given for them. I wanted such people to be dealt with according to the rules of Christian discipline.
15. There were many other sad facts, far more than I have either time or disposition to mention, which forced themselves on my notice, and obliged me, in conscience, to plead and labor for reform. There seemed a dreadful distance between the character of Christ and the character of the Church; and I wished to make it less. How far I erred in my efforts to bring about this desirable result, and how far I acted wisely, it is not for me to say. I know that my object was good, and that the course I took was the one that seemed best to me at the time; but it is probable that some would have gone about the work in a wiser way. I never excelled in certain forms of prudence. I was prone to speak forth my thoughts and feelings without much consideration and with but little reserve; and I often used the plainest and even the strongest words. I was too open. My heart was too near my mouth. I thought aloud. And I was not sufficiently tender of people's feelings. Nor did I make sufficient allowance for their prejudices and imperfections. I probably expected too much from men. And some of the reforms which I proposed might at the time be impracticable. I was accustomed to muse very much on the teachings of Christ and His Apostles, and to image to myself a state of things in the Church which, though very desirable, was probably unattainable, except through many slow preliminary changes. I wished for a church "without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing,"—a church that should set forth and carry out the highest principles of Christian purity and charity—and that was a blessing to be looked for not in the present, but in the future only.
16. Then I had but little knowledge of human nature, either in its regenerate or unregenerate state. I over-rated men's virtues, and under-rated their defects. I trusted them too much and feared them too little. I took all who put on a fair appearance, for friends, and imparted to them the innermost thoughts of my soul. And many proved unworthy of my confidence. And I often over-rated men's talents or capabilities. I was not aware of the infinite difference in men's powers. I thought all my brethren in the ministry, and almost all my brother Christians, were capable, under proper culture, of being made as wise, as able, as eloquent, as the most distinguished in the Church. I was not aware that some men were naturally palm-trees, and others only brambles; that some were pearls, and others only pebbles; and that these constitutional differences were unalterable. Hence I expected too much of some, and was too impatient perhaps when disappointed. I erred with regard both to men and institutions, and my colleagues were often offended with what they deemed my unreasonable expectations and demands.
17. But in truth, it is not necessary for reformers to err, in order to give offence. The best and wisest One that ever appeared on earth gave offence to those who were wedded to error and abuses. A Christian reformer can never please the "earthly, the sensual, and the devilish." The history of Christ and of Paul has settled that. A Christian reformer never does the right thing in the estimation of the idle, the selfish, the corrupt: and if he does, he never does it at the right time, or in the right way. He always meddles too early, or too late; and he always goes too fast, or too slow; and he always does too much, or too little. He interferes with their ease, their interests, and their pleasures, and that is enough. They will, in return, endeavor to destroy his influence, if not to take away his life. They will impute to him the vilest motives. They will stick at no lie, no wrong, that seems likely to damage his reputation. They will magnify his innocent weaknesses or trifling inconsistencies, and represent them as gross and unpardonable faults. If he is faithful they will call him rash; if he is prudent they will call him hypocritical; and they will labor in every way to awaken against him distrust and prejudice in the minds of the better-disposed among their brethren.
And many of the better-disposed themselves often see what tries them greatly in the character and doings of reformers. It is the natural tendency of the reforming spirit to lead a man to look too much at what is amiss in men and systems, and too little at what is right and praiseworthy. It is what is amiss that wants reforming, so he fixes his mind on that, and makes it the constant subject of his conversation. And so it was with myself no doubt to some extent. And this, to men of conservative tendencies, who look more at the good and less at the evil in the men and systems with which they are connected, seems a grievous fault, an inexcusable piece of injustice, deserving the severest censure. And they repay it with the sternest condemnation.
And conservatives can be as blind or one-sided as the most eager reformers. They can shut their eyes to what is evil, or treat great abuses as excusable trifles; while they magnify what is good beyond all bounds. And when they get excited or vexed they can be as unjust towards the reformer, as the most rabid reformer can be towards them or their pet institutions. And there are few things fiercer than the fire of bigotry, even in minds not destitute of piety. The truth is, when men wax hot, either in favor of reform or against it, justice is forgotten, and kindness and courtesy are out of the question.
And so it was in the controversies which arose out of my efforts at reform. I was assailed both by the malignity of the corrupt, and by the bigotry of the misguided. I was hated by the bad, and dreaded by some of the good, and abused and persecuted by both. And some of my enemies had neither mercy nor moderation. They pressed matters to the most terrible extremes.
And I was not sufficiently on my guard. Instead of possessing my soul in patience, and casting my care on God, I allowed their persecutions to increase the bitterness of my unhappy feelings, and render my ultimate separation from them inevitable.