On September 3, he “began visiting the little societies in Somersetshire and Wiltshire;” and, at Paulton, had an encounter with Stephen Plummer, a quondam Methodist, but now an insane Quaker. Wesley preached, and, as soon as he had done, Stephen began an outpouring. Wesley listened for half an hour; but, finding that his old acquaintance was no nearer the end of his discourse, he rose up to leave. Stephen’s “sister then begged him to suspend his oration; on which he flew into a violent rage, and roared louder and louder, till an honest man took him in his arms, and gently removed him.” Wesley adds: “What a wise providence was it, that this poor young man turned Quaker some years before he ran mad! So the honour of turning his brain now rests upon them, which otherwise must have fallen upon the Methodists.”
Taking the Isle of Wight on his way, Wesley arrived in London, on October 9.
Almost for the first time, an estrangement now sprang up between Wesley and his brother. Their friendship, hitherto, had been of the most tender and confidential kind; but, for some reason, Charles began to be reserved, and, to some extent, restive. He was a married man, and had a happy home; and children were being born, whose claims were scarcely compatible with the domestic absences occasioned by his itinerant life. Added to this, Wesley’s wife was perpetually brewing mischief. Towards Charles and his “dear Sally,” she entertained and cherished feelings of strong aversion, which she was seldom backward to express. All this may help to explain the following extracts from two letters, from Wesley to his brother, and dated respectively October 20, and October 31.
“I came back from Bedford last night. I know not whether it was your will or no (I believe not), but I am sure it was God’s will for you, to call there. How do you judge whether a thing be God’s will or no? I hope not by inward impressions. Let us walk warily. I have much constitutional enthusiasm; and you have much more. I give you a dilemma. Take one side or the other. Either act readily in connection with me, or never pretend it. Rather disclaim it; and openly avow you do and will not. By acting in connection with me, I mean, take counsel with me once or twice a year as to the places where you will labour. Hear my advice before you fix whether you take it or no. At present you are so far from this, that I do not even know when and where you intend to go. So far are you from following any advice of mine; nay, even from asking it. And yet I may say, without vanity, that I am a better judge of this matter than either Lady Huntingdon, Sally, Jones, or any other: nay than your own heart, that is, will. You told William Briggs, that you never declined going to any place because my wife was there. I am glad of it. If so, I have hope we may sometime spend a little time together. Why do you omit giving the sacrament in Kingswood? What is reading prayers at Bristol, in comparison of this? I am sure, in making this vehement alteration, you never consulted me.
“My love to my sister. Adieu!”[196]
His brother was not the only one, among his friends, that gave Wesley trouble. Hence the following extracts from two other letters.
“You give five reasons why the Rev. Mr. P—— will come no more among us:—1. ‘Because we despise the ministers of the Church of England.’ This I flatly deny; I am answering letters this very post, which bitterly blame me for just the contrary. 2. ‘Because so much backbiting is suffered amongst our people.’ It is not suffered: all possible means are used, both to prevent and remove it. 3. ‘Because I, who have written so much against hoarding up money, have put out £700 to interest.’ I never put sixpence out to interest since I was born; nor had I ever £100 together, my own, since I came into the world. 4. ‘Because our lay preachers have told many stories of my brother and me.’ If they did, I am sorry for them: when I hear the particulars, I can answer, and perhaps make those ashamed who believed them. 5. ‘Because we did not help a friend in distress.’ We did help him as far as we were able. You conclude with praying, that ‘God would remove pride and malice from amongst us.’ Of pride I have too much; of malice I have none: however, the prayer is good, and I thank you for it.”
In the other letter, Wesley writes:—
“Some time since, I was considering what you said, concerning the want of a plan in our societies. There is a good deal of truth in this remark. Though we have a plan, as to our spiritual economy, it is certain, we have barely the first outlines of a plan with regard to our temporal concerns. The reason is, I had no design for several years, to concern myself with temporals at all; and when I began to do this, it was solely with a view to relieve, not to employ, the poor; except now and then, with respect to a small number; and even this I found was too great a burden for me, as requiring more money, more time, and more thought, than I could possibly spare. I say, than I could possibly spare; for the whole weight lay on me. If I left it to others, it surely came to nothing. They wanted either understanding, or industry, or love, or patience, to bring anything to perfection.
“With regard to myself, you do well to warn me against ‘popularity, a thirst of power, and of applause; against envy, producing a seeming contempt for the conveniences or grandeur of this life; against an affected humility; against sparing from myself to give to others, from no other motive than ostentation.’ I am not conscious to myself, that this is my case. However, the warning is always friendly; and it is always seasonable, considering how deceitful my heart is, and how many the enemies that surround me.”[197]