Wesley’s letters are published in his collected works; but, of course, unaccompanied by Tompson’s; and, without the latter, no one can form a correct opinion concerning this courteous and loving contest. Our own honest conviction is, that Tompson is the master. It is true that, in the main matter of dispute, the difference between the two was more imaginary than real,—more in words than fact; but we feel bound to say, that, in managing the argument, Wesley, either for want of time or want of something else, is worsted.
The subject of Christian perfection is summarily dismissed. Tompson quotes texts of Scripture, and appeals to history, and concludes with an argument which has been elaborated in modern days: “Suppose that two persons, absolutely free from the corruption of human nature, should marry and have children, it is very evident, that they could convey no corruption of nature to their offspring, nor they to theirs, even to the remotest generations: and, therefore, this new species of mankind would stand in no need of a Saviour; that is, in no need of Christ’s righteousness to justify them; in no need of His Spirit to enable them to do their duty, they being possessed of that rectitude of nature which will enable them to act entirely for themselves.”
This is quoted, not for its soundness, but, merely to show how feebly one of the ablest logicians of his age confronted it. The following is the whole of Wesley’s answer: “As to Christian perfection, I believe two, who were made perfect in love, never did, or will, marry together.” This was not argument, but assumption; and Tompson was not slow to avail himself of his advantage. In his next communication he asks, “Why is the marriage state proper for those only who are tainted with sin and corruption?” He reminds his opponent, that two persons, Adam and Eve, absolutely free from sin, have been married, and that by the express command of God Himself. Besides, he asks, “Suppose that two persons, already married, should attain to such a state,—the very same consequences would inevitably follow; and, I suppose, you will hardly venture to affirm, that God will never make any married couple (capable of having children) perfect. If you did, I should ask you first, what ground you had for such an arbitrary hypothesis? and secondly, how you came to marry yourself, when you judged it would be an infallible means of keeping either yourself, or your wife, from that state which is of all others the most desirable?” Wesley, like a prudent man, attempted no reply to this; and so the matter ended.
It will thus be seen, that the doctrine of Christian perfection was not fairly and fully discussed by the two friendly antagonists. Their main subject of dispute was this: “that no person is a true believer in Christ, but he who either certainly knows, or has known, by the immediate revelation of the Holy Ghost, that his sins are forgiven.” Tompson argues, that the definition of faith given by the Church of England,—“a sure trust or confidence in God that my sins are forgiven,” applies not to that faith “which is the immediate proximate cause of justification,” but to that faith which follows after justification. Wesley’s reply to this, in brief, was: “I agree with you, that justifying faith cannot be a conviction that I am justified; but still, I believe that it implies such a conviction.” Further correspondence followed, and Wesley’s opinion, just given, was modified to this extent: “I believe there are some instances of a man who has not a clear assurance that his sins are forgiven, being in a state of justification.” This, in substance, was all that Tompson contended for; and so terminated one of the most friendly controversies in Wesley’s history. No man was more open to conviction than Wesley was; no man was more sincerely in search of truth; no man met a reasonable opponent in a more loving spirit. “If,” said he, in his first reply to Tompson, “if you have observed anything in any of the tracts I have published, which you think is not agreeable to Scripture or reason, you will oblige me by pointing out, and by communicating to me any remarks you have occasionally made. I seek two things in this world—truth and love; whoever assists me in this search is a friend indeed.”
While on the subject of controversy, it may be added, that during the year 1755 a furious attack was made upon the Methodists, in an octavo pamphlet of 37 pages, entitled, “An Apology for the Clergy; with a view to expose the groundless assertions of a late Commentator on the 107th Psalm; and to undeceive the admirers of certain popular declaimers, by showing the dangerous consequences of their manner of preaching.” In this precious morceau, the Wesleys and their fellow Methodists are spoken of as “giving vent to the rankest enthusiasm,”—as captivating the people “with unintelligible jargon,” and “importing contraband doctrines into pulpits” which they had no right to enter. These were hard words, but hardly worth answering.
Another kindred publication was issued, with the title, “A Dissertation on Enthusiasm, showing the danger of its late increase. By Thomas Green, M.A., vicar of Wymeswould, Leicestershire.” 8vo, 219 pages. In this, the Methodists were likened, not only to papists, but to Mahommedans, and fanatics of all descriptions. It was too late for scurrilous publications like these to obtain, or to deserve an answer. Like their authors, they soon sank into well merited oblivion.
On the 30th of June, Wesley set out for Norwich, where he spent the next four days, and spoke personally to each member of the society. On returning to London, at the request of “a friendly gentlewoman,” he became a witness to her will, wherein she bequeathed part of her estates to charitable uses; and part, during his natural life, to her dog Toby. “I suppose,” says he, “her legacy to Toby may stand good; but that to the poor is null and void, by the statute of mortmain!” He dined with one who, for many years, was one of the most celebrated beauties in Europe; but who, suffering from a painful and nauseous disease, was now literally rotting. He called upon an old friend, after a separation of sixteen years, found him a beggar, forsaken by all his old acquaintance, and offered him all the assistance in his power. He held the first Methodist covenant service, at the French church in Spitalfields, above eighteen hundred persons standing up in testimony of their assent to the tenor of the covenant, still in use among the Methodist societies.
On the 18th of August, he started for Cornwall. On the way, he preached to “sleepy congregations” at Reading and at Salisbury. At Shaftesbury, he found a more lively people. In Cornwall, his congregations were large and attentive. Even at Helstone, all were quiet, except two drunken men, one of whom soon walked away, and the other fell asleep on his horse’s neck. At Breage, the lions were now changed into lambs, though their wretched minister had told them, from the pulpit, a few years before, that John Wesley was expelled from the Oxford university for being the father of a bastard child; and that all the Methodists, at their private meetings, put out the lights. In the interval, this mendacious priest had grown thoughtful and melancholy, and had hanged himself. At St. Ives, Wesley visited a young attorney, who had attended the Methodist preaching, but who now sung, and swore, and screamed, and cursed, as if possessed by legion; now, however, after prayer, he sunk down into a state of quietude. At St. Just, Wesley preached on the foundation stone of the new Methodist meeting-house; and, at Launceston, in a gentleman’s dining room, capable of containing a congregation of some hundreds.
Having spent three weeks in Cornwall, he returned to Bristol to finish his “Notes on the New Testament.” During this Cornish tour, he was accompanied by Michael Fenwick, whom he pronounces to be “an excellent groom, valet de chambre, nurse, and, upon occasion, a tolerable preacher.”[239] He wrote to his friend Blackwell as follows.
“Redruth, August 31, 1755.