Setting the Stage

Setting the Stage

Setting the Stage Only let your whole family stir themselves up and be instant in prayer; then I have only to say to each, "If thou canst believe, thou shall see the glory of God!"

John Wesley Monday, March 17, 1788 (5:00 a.m.), Bristol, England. Mr.

Wesley is alone, but speaks to you, the reader, as though you were there in the room with him.

Today I begin my journey north, a custom I have practiced in the early spring for many years now. This evening I expect to preach at Stroud. lam nowin my sitting room just off the Common Room above the Methodist chapel called the New Room in the Horsefair, Bristol. My bedroom is to my left. It is small, just six by ten. I had a desk built into the window to conserve space and to catch the light so I can save on candles. The sitting room is larger, approximately ten by ten. These two rooms have been my home in Bristol since the beginning of the Revival in Kingswood, just a few miles away, in 1739, nearly fifty years ago. On May 12,

1739, the cornerstone for this, the first of our Methodist chapels, was laid. Behind me a door leads into the Common Room. There those of us in residence take our meals together. Off the Common Room there are other rooms, sleeping quarters for our Methodist preachers who come to work with the local societies, classes, and bands. At one end of the Common Room there are windows looking out on the courtyard. At the other end, there is a window which looks down into the chapel below. From that window I can watch our young preachers deliver their sermons without their being aware of my presence. I marvel at how some of them have so quickly grown in grace. Even now |

Kitchen Passage BA oN f

THE FIRST FLOOR PLAN

REFERENCE

9. J. Wesley's Bedroom 10. do. Sitting Room.

11.-20. Students' Rooms 21. Lantern light.

22.-24. Cupboards.

25. Pantry.

Setting the Stage

can hear some of our society shuffling across the floor as they prepare for early communion. We frequently serve communion as early as 4:00 A.M., especially on Holy Days so as not to conflict with any of the services held by the Church of England. God forbid that our Methodists should not also be faithful members of the Established Church.

What good is the leaven without the loaf?

Yesterday was Palm Sunday. I preached here at 4:00 and 8:00 in the morning before preaching at the Mayor's

Chapel at 11:00. I still contend that early morning preaching not only prevents our being in competition with the Church of England, but it also develops discipline as well.

"Give up this, and Methodism too will degenerate into a mere sect, only distinguished by some opinions and modes of worship.'"1 Some months ago I was in London and ''went down at half-hour past five, but found no Preacher in the chapel, though we had three or four in the house: So I preached myself. Afterwards, inquiring why none of my family attended the morning preaching, they said, it was because they sat up too late. I resolved to puta stop to this; and therefore ordered, that, 1. Every one under my roof should go to bed at nine; that, 2. Every one might attend the morning preaching: And so they have done ever since.''?

The same sermon that I preached yesterday at the Mayor's Chapel to most of the aldermen of the city, and toa multitude of high and low, I preached in our own chapel at 5:00 in the evening. My text was Luke 16:31: "If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead." To both congregations I sought to explain, and apply, that awesome passage of Scripture—the rich man and Lazarus. Surely, there is still work to be done, even in our strongest societies. Just last year I noted in my Journal how the Bristol Society has increased in grace and number.? If we do not press on toward the mark of our high calling, however, it will all soon wear off.

1Works, Vol. IV, p. 267.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Perhaps it is appropriate that we should be introduced to one another during Holy Week. This is a time to consider our common ground as followers of Christ. "The true members of the Church of Christ 'endeavour,' with all possible diligence, with all care and pains, with unwearied patience, (and all will be little enough), to 'keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace;' to preserve inviolate the same spirit of lowliness and meekness, of longsuffering, mutual forbearance, and love; and all these cemented and knit together by that sacred tie,—the peace of God filling the heart. Thus only can we be and continue living members of that Church which is the body of Cnrist.cc The morning here in Bristol is lovely and mild, for which I am grateful. Although, 'the rush of numerous years" have occasioned me little suffering, it is true that Iam not as agile as I was in times past.$ "I do not run or walk so fast as I did; my sight is a little decayed; my left eye is grown dim, and hardly serves me to read; I have daily some pain in the ball of my right eye, as also in my right temple,

(occasioned by a blow received some months since,) andin my right shoulder and arm, which I impute partly to a sprain, and partly to the rheumatism. I find likewise some decay in my memory, with regard to names and things lately passed, but not at all with regard to what I have read or heard twenty, forty, or sixty years ago; neither doI find any decay in my hearing, smell, taste, or appetite; (though

I want but a third part of the food I did once;) nor do I feel any such things as weariness, either in travelling or preaching; And I am not conscious of any decay in writing sermons; which I do as readily, and, I believe, as correctly, as ever.

"To what cause can | impute this, thatI am as Iam? First, doubtless, to the power of God, fitting me for the work to which I am called, as long as He pleases to continue me therein; and, next, subordinately to this, to the prayers of his children.

'Works, Vol. VI, p. 399.

5On June 28, 1788, Wesley would be eighty-five.

Setting the Stage

"May we not impute it, as inferior means, 1. To my constant exercise and change of air? 2. Tomy never having lost anight's sleep, sick or well, at land or at sea, since I was born? 3. To my having sleep at command, so that whenever I feel myself almost worn out, I call it, and it comes, day or night? 4. To my having constantly, for above sixty years, risen at four in the morning? 5. To my constant preaching at five in the morning for above fifty years? 6. To my having had so little pain in my life, and so little sorrow or anxious care?

"Even now, though I find pain daily in my eye, or temple, or arm; yet it is never violent, and seldom lasts many minutes at a time.

"Whether or not this is sent to give me warning that am shortly to quit this tabernacle, I do not know; but, be it one way or the other, I have only to say:

My remnant of days I spend to his praise o died the whole world to redeem:

Be they many or few, My days are his due, And they all are devoted to Him!''® For two weeks now I have been in Bristol, primarily resting, yet also managing to transact some business, visit our school at Kingswood, attend the Select Society, classes, and bands, write letters, converse with numerous friends, prepare sermons, and preach at least once a day (with but one exception)." So, these days have not been idle nor without some excitement. In fact, as a result of a sermon preached against slavery on the Thursday after my arrival the crowd was exceedingly large, including high and low,

6Works, Vol. IV, pp. 427f. The lines at the end are from Charles Wesley's birthday hymn CXC, v. 14, Hymns and Sacred Poems, 1749;

Osborn's edition, Vol. V, p. 403.

7A word of explanation might be helpful here. As for the school at Kingswood, Wesley took it over from George Whitefield. It was built originally for the sons of colliers or miners. Wesley soon included their daughters as well. The same building was then also used as a boarding school for orphan girls and as an adult school. Then in 1748

Wesley erected another boarding school beside the old school for the sons of Methodists. As for the explanation of the Methodist Societies, classes, and bands, see pp. 277-282.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology rich and poor. The text was that ancient prophecy, Genesis

9:27: '''God shall enlarge Japhet. And he shall dwell in the tents of Shem; and Canaan shall be his servant.' About the middle of the discourse, while there was on every side attention still as night, a vehement noise arose, none could tell why, a shot like lightning through the whole congregation. The terror and confusion were inexpressible. You might have imagined it was a city taken by storm. The people rushed upon each other with the utmost violence; the benches were broke in pieces; and nine-tenths of the congregation appeared to be struck with the same panic. In about six minutes the storm ceased, almost as suddenly as it arose; and, all being calm, I went on without the least interruption.

"It was the strangest incident of that kind I ever remember; and I believe none can account for it, without supposing some preternatural influence. Satan fought, lest his kingdom should be delivered up. We set Friday apart as a day of fasting and prayer, that God would remember those poor outcasts of men; and (what seems impossible with men, considering the wealth and power of their oppressors) make a way for them to escape, and break their chains in sunder.''8

In spite of all, however, I still have had some time for reminiscing, including a review of my Journal and Diary notes in order to bring them up to date. This is especially significant since my brother, Charles, lies ill in London with a disease that most say will kill him. Just this morning

I have been praying and writing for over an hour. It occurs 8Works, Vol. IV, p. 408. Bristol at this time was the third largest city in England and was the center of the slave market, being one corner of the "Triangle Trade.' English goods were exchanged for slaves in West

Africa who were then sold in Bristol to be exchanged for sugar, rum, and tobacco in the West Indies and America. Wesley for some years had been one of the first to speak out strongly against slavery. His tract

"Thoughts Upon Slavery," published in 1774, had been circulating for some years. It should be remembered that he made this point not without persecution. There would be times when only the pulpit rail

(which provided time for his escape) prevented Wesley himself from falling victim to just such violence.

Setting the Stage

to me that you might like to see a letter written to Charles just a few moments ago.

Bristol, March 17, 1788 between four and five.

Dear brother—I am just setting out on my northern journey. But I must snatch time to write two or three lines. I stand and admire the wise and gracious dispensation of divine providence! Never was there before so loud a call to all that are under your roof. If they have not hitherto sufficiently regarded either you or the Lord God of their fathers, what was more calculated to convince them than to see en hovering so long above the borders of the grave?

And I verily believe, if they receive the admonition, God will raise you up again. I know you have the sentence of death in yourself; so had I more than twelve years ago. I know nature is utterly exhausted; but is not nature subject to His word? I do not depend upon physicians, but upon Him that raiseth the dead. Only let your whole family stir themselves up and be instant in prayer; then I have only to say to each, 'If thou canst believe, thou shall see the glory of God!' Be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might.

Adieu!

John Wesley?

Enough of this. If I linger too long with my thoughts upon my brother, I might, as he was so prone to do, become melancholy. At any rate, I must take to my chaise in half an hour and I want time enough (since you have been kind enough to show interest in my autobiographical notes) to tell you my story.1° The purpose for this "meeting" with you, my reader

(which we will resume periodically during my journey north), is to share the labors of my reminiscing these past few weeks. As I have anticipated Charles' death, my entire life has passed before me. This I have written down thinking that you, perhaps prompted by the verdict of history some years hence, might come to these pages looking for hope, inspiration, and faith from the life of a man (if I may pass judgment upon myself) who has weighed the cost of greatness. In so doing I have found that one road often leads to compromise, comfort, and mediocrity, while

Vol. VIII, pp. 45-46. This was to be John's last letter to his brother Charles.

10A "'chaise'"' is an open, horse-drawn carriage.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology another leads to self-discipline, self-sacrifice, and greatness. If you, dear friend, should by some act of grace, attribute the latter judgment to me and are constrained to bless the instrument, stop! Give God the glory!

Let us begin.

The Eighteenth Century No age since the founding and forming of the Christian Church, was ever like, in open avowed atheism, blasphemies, and heresies, to the age we now live in.

Daniel Defoe Allow me to say a few words about the age into which I was born. England, at the turn of the century, was mostly farm land pocked with small towns and scattered population. Fortunately Epworth (where I was born in 1703) was just a village, because the first thing you noticed about anything larger than a small village was the stench of human waste and rotting garbage. I will never forget the shock of my first journey to London. Every nook and cranny was made a public convenience. Many of the unpaved streets were narrow, often only six feet wide. Here in Bristol the streets were too narrow for carts, and sledges had to be used for moving goods, even though vast improvements have been made over the past few decades.?

Most houses were oneor two-room hovels, frequently made only of weatherboard and a pitched roof and placed back to back. There were some larger houses (previously deserted by the rich) that were quickly inhabited not only by people but by their livestock as well. All refuse, including that of the butcher, was thrown into the streets to mold and decay, filling the city with filth and disease.

Some, understandably, refer to this period as the "'cess1Rupert E. Davies, The Church in Bristol, p. 53. Davies writes: "As the century went on and Bristol became richer and richer, many of the meaner areas vanished, the centre of the city was rebuilt, and handsome squares and streets appeared, lined with dignified houses for the prosperous merchants." eA Bal ee a ee ee ee

o2 John Wesley: His Life and Theology pool"' of the last two millenniums, if not for its filth then certainly for its morals. Debauchery was epidemic, affecting the nobility, the middle classes, the lower classes, the members of court, and even the members of Parliament. I am told that our late prime minister, the first Earl of Orford, Sir Robert Walpole, lived in an open state of adultery until God was gracious enough to take him from us in 1745. His often-quoted statement: "I am no saint, no spartan, no reformer," was perhaps the understatement of the century.

The farming techniques were improving but the industrial methods were extremely primitive. Life was cheap.

I've watched them hang ten and twelve a day from the gallows at Tyburn near Marylebone in London where

Charles now lies dying. They hung a ten-year-old boy one day for stealing a loaf of bread. I became so sick of reading the accounts of scores of murders and public executions where, I'm afraid that had I read farther,

I would have found them described in vivid detail.

In spite of such decadence, this was also a period of increasing prosperity among the powerful few. Whereas the vast majority of the people were hungry and diseased

(especially in the larger towns and cities), there was a fine veneer of sophistication above them. Though I rarely passed up an opportunity to give fair warning to the rich:

"It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than fora rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven," is it any wonder that God would call me to minister among the poor?? After all, did not our Lord Himself set a pretty good precedent? I remember writing to one in our Society:

"T want you to converse more, abundantly more, with the poorest of the people, who, if they have not taste, have souls, which you may forward in their way to heaven. And they have (many of them) faith, and the love of God, ina larger measure than any persons I know. Creep in among these, in spite of dirt, and a hundred disgusting circumstances;

. Do not confine your conversation to genteel *See Works, Vol. VII, for Wesley's sermons on ''The Danger of Riches'' (pp. 1-15), and "On Riches" (pp. 214-222)

The Eighteenth Century

and elegant people. I should like this as well as you do: But I cannot discover a precedent for it in the life of our Lord, or any of his Apostles. My friend, let us walk as he walked.'"3

Philosophically, we Englishmen (to speak generally), since the close of the Thirty-Years' War (1618-1648), had meandered between arid intellectualism and spiritualism.

During the Commonwealth, for example, the mystic "'inner light' shown bright, but by the turn of the century we

English (now obsessed with the correct method of imparting knowledge) had tired, even of our Puritan strain, and, although still emotionally aggressive and extremely passionate, deplored anything that smacked of personal religion, now labeled enthusiasm.*

Although our seventeenth-century legacy had to do more with experience than knowledge, the issue was whether to judge experience by reason (natural revelation) or by faith (divine revelation).5 Some seventeenth-century theologians were actually optimistic about the remarriage of faith and reason, but this was not to be. It is so much easier to run from east to west than to stop at the middle point! By the beginning of the eighteenth century the appeal to faith was nearly abandoned altogether and reason prevailed. Deism, for example, exalted reason to the point of totally obscuring the supernatural. 'Accordingly,

(we were and still are) surrounded with those (we find them on every side) who lay it down as an undoubted principle, that reason is the highest gift of God. They paint it in the fairest colours; they extol it to the skies.

They are fond of expatiating in its praise; they make it little less than divine. They are wont to describe it as very near, if not quite, infallible. They look upon it as the allsufficient director of all the children of men; able, by its native light, to guide them into all truth, and lead them into all virtue.''® Let me illustrate still further.

3Works, Vol. XII, p. 301.

4It should perhaps be noted that the term "enthusiasm" as a label was little better than calling one a '"mad dog."

5The ontological approach of philosophers like Descartes played a significant role in the emphasis on experience.

Works, Vol. VI, p. 351.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Mr. Toland's Christianity Not Mysterious and Mr. Tindal's Christianity As Old As Creation, two masterpieces of infidelity, in an attempt to reduce religion to its bare essentials, believe God but not his word. They say: "I think the Bible is the finest book I ever read in my life; yet I have an unsuperable objection to it: It is too good. It lays down such a plan of life, such a scheme of doctrine and practice, as is far too excellent for weak, silly men to aim at, or attempt to copy after.""? My answer? If 'all things are possible with God, then all things are possible to him that believeth"; but alas, England had few who would proclaim such a word. It would take a true revival to reunite "the two so long divided, knowledge and vital piety."

So, evangelical faith was locked in by a frozen determinism which separated creation from its creator. Man, according to Dr. Clarke, left to himself and if given enough time would reason his way to God.8 I, on the other hand

(by no means disparaging of reason altogether), would eventually discover that reason alone cannot produce faith, but utter despair. I found the truth of this by sad experience more than sixty years ago. "After carefully heaping up the strongest arguments which I could find, either in ancient or modern authors, for the very being of a God, and (which is nearly connected with it) the existence of an invisible world," I was still not convinced.? Nonetheless, being ignorant to the way of faith, I pursued the thought by reason alone, "til there was no spirit in me, and I was ready to choose strangling rather than life.'

I remember dining with a deist some forty-five years ago who, in answer to my question: "Do you believe there is a God?" replied simply, 'I know there is a God; and I believe

Him to be the soul of all, .

. But farther than this, I know not: Allis dark; my thought is lost. Whence I come, I know not; nor what or why I am; nor whither I am going: But this

I know, Iam unhappy; I am weary of life; I wish it were at 7Works, Vol. VII, p. 298.

Clarke is a reference to Samuel Clarke, a prominent deist.

°Works, Vol. VI, p.356.

10bid.

The Eighteenth Century

an end." Are you then surprised that I would shortly thereafter accept the rather disagreeable chore of writing a large treatise entitled: "An Earnest Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion,'"' soon to be followed by 'A Farther

Appeal," which, I am led to believe, have brought many to a better mind.

The ecclesiastical scene was affected by the philosophical scene. Although the Church for some years had had little effect on the working classes, indifference and irreligion was now equally prevalent among the middleand upper-class society as well. I remember words written by Mr. Defoe while I was still at Oxford: "No age since the founding and forming of the Christian Church, was ever like, in open avowed atheism, blasphemies, and heresies, to the age we now live in."

13 The simple fact is that hardly anyone appeared to act by any principle of religion.

Everywhere those who should have known better, entirely discarded it and were ready to admit to their disbelief in ordinary discourse.

By and large an "impoverished" church was impotent against the onslaught of secular philosophy. "Few clergymen cared to discourse on the subject; and if they did, they generally expected that a few weak reasons should eradicate at once strong and deep-rooted prejudices." 14 Furthermore, while thinking people were casting great doubt on the truth of the Christian faith, the local parishes were all too often held "in plurality.'"' That is, one rector drew an income from several livings, while the actual work among the people was done by an ill-educated, underpaid, and half-starved curate. The rector kept in good relationship with the wealthy merchants who enabled him to enjoy relative domestic ease.

The Established Church was also highly political. Queen Works Vol. I, p. 290.

12The "Earnest Appeal'' can be found in the Works, Vol. VIII, pp.

3-134 and the "Farther Appeal" can be found in the same volume pp.

136-247. Also, Works, Vol. I, p. 532 gives an example of a deist (a Mr.

Lampe) who was converted by the ''Earnest Appeal."

13V. H. H. Green, The Young Mr. Wesley, p. 8.

14Works Vol. Il, p. 349.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Anne (1702-1714), the younger daughter of James II, once again took a High Church line which stressed the importance of the connection between church and State more and more. Dissenters were persecuted. The stage, therefore, was set for revival within the Church of England. That is the way it was. I willsay no more. I dare not carry this too far. Some future generation might conclude that our Revival was more ecclesiastical, sociological, or even political, than a movement of God's Spirit. The church does not have to be decadent to the point of collapse (as some weakminded historians would have us believe) to be ripe for revival. Although most of the clergymen with real integrity were "'non-jurors'"' (those who refused to take the oath to William III because he was not considered to have succeeded legally to his office) there were a few exceptions to the general rule of degeneracy within the Established

Church. One such exception was my father, Samuel Wesley, who moved to Epworth with my mother, Susanna, in 1697, following the resignation of his naval chaplaincy after only a few months duty on a man-of-war.!5 Allow me to describe for you now the scene at Epworth. The influences there were significant indeed.

accounts place the dates of the Wesley's arrival at Epworth two years earlier, or 1695.

The Home Environment There are few, if any, that would entirely devote above twenty years of the prime of life in hopes to save the souls of their children, which they think may We saved without so much ado; for that was my principal intention, however unskillfully and unsuccessfully managed.

Susanna Wesley I was past thirty years of age before I found out the particular circumstances surrounding my birth. My father and I were visiting together in London. It was November

30, 1733. I remember the occasion with remarkable clarity.

Father was most anxious for me to return with him to Epworth so that I might assume full responsibility for the parish following his death.! He was unusually melancholy and recalled with some emotion and great candor (perhaps more than he was aware, since most of what he was to say to me I was hearing for the first time) the early years at Epworth.

On November 12, 1688, three months after his ordination as deacon in the Church of England, my father married

Susanna Annesley." Although both my father and mother had rich heritages among the Dissenting Churches, the would-be dissenting minister and his wife both blossomed into loyal Anglicans. It seems that my father was given the task of refuting an Anglican polemic against the Dissenters, but in the course of working this out came to 1John was in residence at Oxford during this time. The events surrounding his father Samuel's attempt to persuade him to return to Epworth appear in chapter 9.

2Samuel (born in 1662, he was 26) and Susanna (born in 1669, she was 19) were married in the old parish church at Marylebone, London.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology the conclusion that the Anglican attacks were valid. Henceforth, he was astern opponent of Dissent. My mother hada similar experience, but quite independently of my father.

Although she had watched the personal sacrifices that her father (Dr. Samuel Annesley) had made in his struggles against the Established Church, she also returned to the Church of England.

Even though my father was ordained priest on February 24, 1689, he was at first unable to secure a living and had to struggle by on what little he could earn by writing.3 He was also a political activist of sorts. Although his activism would eventually place his ministry in some jeopardy with his people, his faithfulness to the Established Church, coupled with the good will of anobleman for whom he was serving as domestic chaplain, the Marquis of Normanby, enabled him to obtain the small living of South Ormsby, in Lincolnshire, in 1690. This was the same year my older brother, Samuel, Jr., was born, the first of nineteen children, of which only ten survived infancy.*

While at South Ormsby, my father missed his one opportunity for some notoriety. In 1694 the same Marquis who had secured the living for him in Lincolnshire, suggested to the Archbishop of Canterbury that my father might be a suitable candidate for an Irish bishopric. This, however, was not to be. So, my father settled into the work of the parish with integrity and devotion. He showed no *Just how little can be judged by Samuel's first book, rather oddly entitled, Maggots: Or Poems on Several Subjects Never Before Handled, published in 1685, and dedicated to his former headmaster at Dorchester Grammar School, Henry Dolling. There is also a suggestion that he might have had some income from a domestic chaplaincy held during this same period in the home of the Marquis of Normanby. See Luke

Tyerman, The Life and Times of the Rev. Samuel Wesley, MA, pp. 194-202.

'The ten children are Samuel, Jr. (born 1690 and nicknamed Sammy); Emilia (born 1691); Susanna (born 1695 and nicknamed Sukey); Mary

(born 1696 and nicknamed Molly); Mehetebel (born 1697 and nicknamed Hetty); Ann (born 1702 and nicknamed N ancy); John (born

1703 and nicknamed Jacky); Martha (born 1707 and nicknamed Patty); Charles (born 1708); and Kezziah (born 1710 and nicknamed Kezzy).

There are some rather strange stories associated with the deaths of some of the infants including a child born in 1705 that was accidentally smothered by its nurse, and thrown dead into its mother's arms. Samuel

Wesley writes on the occasion concerning Susanna: "She composed herself as well as she could, and that day got it buried."

The Home Environment

favoritism whatsoever. Even the Marquis himself was not exempt from his strong sense of duty. As a matter of fact, his rebuke of the Marquis' mistress caused the loss of his living in South Ormsby, though he remained the Marquis' chaplain for some years and under such friendly circumstances that he dedicated his History of the Old and New

Testament to the Marchioness of Normanby in 1701.

In 1697 (after resigning his naval commission which he held only for a few months), the Crown appointed my father to Epworth, also in Lincolnshire. Epworth was one of the principal villages on the "Isle of Axholme,"' the watery flats formed by the rivers Trent, Don, and Idle.

Since the villagers lived by agriculture, fishing, and the hunting of waterfowl, they depended upon the water. The river flooding made their land fertile and provided suitable cover for ducks and geese. On the other hand, the same water that provided their livelihood also threatened their crops and homes, frequently forcing them to seek refuge on the nearby hills. Though Charles I commissioned a Cornelius Vermuyden to drain the whole countryside in 1626, there was still the problem. Added to that, a third of the land that was then reclaimed was taken over by the Crown, a third given to Vermuyden himself, and a third left to the villagers, without so much as a notice to the people involved. The farmers, therefore, were bitter. Riot was always just below the surface. There was a long, enduring resentment against the government. These farmers frequently defied authority, even rough handling the tax collectors. It is said that not even Oliver Cromwell could subdue the people of Epworth.

Strangers were generally unwelcome. You can imagine the reception granted my parents when they assumed their duties under the sign of Royal favor. My father was disliked even more when he insisted on befriending the tax collectors recently turned out. Nevertheless, this was the place that my father described so affectionately that November morning in 1733. This was the place where he spent the last thirty-eight years of his life without much hope for improvement except that the smaller living of

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Wroot was added to the Epworth living in 1725. It is significant to me that in spite of hardships and even imprisonment, as well as tremendous persecution and abuse, my father remained undaunted.5 To be sure, there were times when he would have cherished the idea (to use his own words) "of becoming a missionary in India, China, or Abyssinia," but Epworth was to be his calling. I remember a letter he wrote to the Archbishop of York after a particularly bad period in 1705: 'Most of my friends advise me to leave Epworth if e'er I should get from hence. I confess I am not of that mind, because I may yet do good there; and 'tis like a coward to desert my post because the enemy fire thick upon me. They have only wounded me yet, and I believe can't kill me."

I vaguely remember our first home at Epworth, a comfortable, old, seven-room thatched building that was able to accommodate our rapidly growing family. There was even sufficient land for breeding cattle, which could have made life almost enjoyable except for the resentment of our

"good" neighbors who made life, at times, almost intolerable. For most of the villagers, religion was little more than a bad joke. Before my parents arrived, the people of Epworth were somewhat amused by the paunchy little priests who dared not ruffle anything more than the goosedown pillows under their sleepy heads. The taverns were filled with those who told bawdy tales and spoke of political intrigue. They hated anything that smacked of true religion. My parents not only practiced true religion, however, but held strong loyalist views as well. They were therefore hated for the reasons they received their living to begin with, their high churchmanship and their Toryism. Again, you can imagine the difficult time anticipated by a parish priest who not only called his irreligious parishioners to genuine piety, but was liturgically high

'In 1705, Samuel Wesley was arrested in the churchyard immediately after a baptism and put in the Lincoln Castle prison in accordance with the harsh laws of the time concerning the payment of debts. The collection of the debt was politically motivated and was initiated after his enemies had bumed his flax, and perhaps caused him to lose his military chaplainship. He remained in prison for four months.

The Home Environment

church and politically loyal to a system that had apparently been robbing them blind.

If my father had trouble with the good people of Epworth, there was trouble at home as well. My mother, the last of twenty-five children, was quite resolute and strongly independent. This fact worked both to advantage and disadvantage. On the one hand it is fortunate that my father had a wife of such sterling quality. Where he was weak, she was invariably strong, business-like, practical, efficient, and determined. She was a woman of remarkable gifts, but her independent spirit sometimes led to trouble.

It was during that same November visit that my father told me the following story which I then heard for the first time.

Although my parents had much in common, they did have certain differences. It seems that my father noticed on one occasion that my mother failed to repeat the "Amen" to the prayer for King William III. He then called my mother to his study and asked her why. I have since found the following comments in my mother's own hand concerning the same event: "I was a little surprised at the question, and don't well know what I answered, but too well I remember what followed. He immediately kneeled down and imprecated the divine vengeance upon himself and all his posterity if ever he touched me more or came into a bed with me before I had begged God's pardon and his, for not saying Amen to the prayer for the King.'""® Although they slept separately that night, they did go to Communion together the next morning. My father, however, remained completely firm and impenitent even when the King's death on March 8 led to the accession of Queen Anne (for whom my mother, as a loyal supporter of the Stuarts, would certainly have been ready to say the Amen"). Subsequently, he left Epworth for London claiming to seek another service chaplaincy. My mother, understandably, was worried and upset at my father's departure from her bed and his parish. Again, I have since found these words in my mother's own hand, this time written in confidence

6See Proceedings of the Wesley Historical Society, XXIX, pp. 50-57.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology to Lady Yarborough at Snaith Hall: "I am more easy in the thoughts of parting because I think we are not likely to live happily together, but I have six very little children, who though he tells me he will take good care of, yet if anything should befall him at sea, we should be in no very good condition. I have unsuccessfully represented to him the unlawfulness and unreasonableness of his Oath; that the Man in that case has no more power over his own body than the Woman over hers; that since I am willing to let him quietly enjoy his opinions, he ought not to deprive me of my little liberty of conscience.''"

Toward the end of the summer, my father returned home. He had intended to stay only a few days before leaving again, but stayed on, and a fire, set by one of our servants which destroyed part of the rectory, served to bring the disastrous episode to a close. Indeed, the pregnancy which resulted from the reconciliation was terminated by the birth of John Benjamin Wesley on June 17,

170378 One of my earliest memories is of another fire in that same rectory (although I remember the damp smell of the smoke more than the actual event). This was a Thursday night, February 9, 1709, I believe between 11:00 and midnight, which completely destroyed the building. All were quickly evacuated except for me. As my rescue came none too soon, I have frequently thought of myself (to use those words of the prophets) as a "brand plucked from the burning."'? From that moment on, my mother seemed to take special pains to see that I was wholly committed to God.

After my older brother, Samuel, entered Westminster in 1704, the household was dominated by women. My younger brother, Charles, joined me and my Six sisters in 1708, only to be followed by yet another sister just two years later. It occurs to me now that some of you might be interested in learning about our routine as inspired by the leadership of our rather unusual mother.

Ibid.

8A later calendar change would move Wesley's birthdate to June 28. It is interesting that John was the only child given a middle name. Benjamin was also the name of a child that had previously died in infancy.

°Amos 4:11; Zechariah 3:2.

The Home Environment

Mother claimed no special insight. As a matter of fact, it was only with great difficulty that I persuaded her to put into writing her method of educating and training children. I have a letter dated February 21, 1732, where she writes following a request made by me: "The writing anything about my way of education I am much averse to. It cannot, I think, be of service to anyone to know how I, who have lived such a retired life for so many years, used to employ my time and care in bringing up my children. No one can, without renouncing the world, in the most literal sense, observe my method; and there are few, if any, that would entirely devote above twenty years of the prime of life in hopes to save the souls of their children, which they think may be saved without so much ado; for that was my principle intention, however unskillfully and unsuccessfully managed.''?°

Then on July 24, 1732, she wrote: '""According to your desire, I have collected the principal rules I observed in educating my family." She then described at some length our regular method of living. 'When we turned a year old

(and some before), we were taught to fear the rod and to cry softly, by which means we escaped abundance of correction which we might otherwise have had." We sat with our parents at mealtimes and were allowed ''to eat and drink

(small beer) as much as we would, but not to call for anything." If we wanted anything, we were allowed to whisper our requirements to one of the servants. We were not permitted either to be finicky or greedy over our food.

We were absolutely forbidden to eat anything between meals and if one of us dared "'to go into the kitchen to ask anything of the servants .

. we were certainly beat.''"?

For mother the root of all sin and misery was self-will.

She felt that whatever encouraged this within us simply insured our wretchedness and irreligion. She wrote further that whatever checked and mortified this, promoted our future happiness and piety. She believed that 10See Rebecca Harmon, Susanna, Mother of the Wesleys, pp. 57-62, who gives this and the following letters in full and describes their impact in detail.

11]bid.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology religion was nothing else than doing the will of God and not our own: That the one grand impediment to our temporal and eternal happiness was this self-will. No indulgence of it could be trivial and no denial unprofitable.

Heaven or hell depended on this alone, so that any parent who sought to subdue this worked together with God in the renewing and saving of a soul. She felt that the parent who indulged it did the devil's work; made religion impracticable, salvation unattainable, and did all that lies in the parent to damn the child's body and soul forever.

Added to this were several rules observed among us: 1) If we would confess our faults, we were not beaten. 2) No sinful action, as lying, playing at church or playing on the Lord's day, disobedience, quarreling, or any form of disrespectfulness should ever pass unpunished. 3) No child was ever beaten twice for the same fault, and if we amended we were never upbraided with it afterward. 4)

Every single act of obedience, especially when it crossed upon our own inclinations, was always commended, and frequently rewarded according to the merits of the case. 5)

If ever we performed an act of obedience, or did anything with an intention to please, though the performance was not well, yet the obedience and intention was kindly accepted, and the child was directed, with sweetness, how to do better for the future. 6) We were expected to respect the property of others, even in the smallest matter. 7) Promises were to be strictly observed; once a gift was given, for example, it was not to be taken back. 8) My sisters were taught not only to work but also to read. Mother, quite frankly, was offended by women who could sew but could not read fit to be heard.13

So, my mother managed a discipline, which although austere, was never cruel. It is important to remember that her instructions related not only to the development of the child through discipline and education, but was profoundly religious as well. And, lest you think that she related well only to her children, let me describe briefly one

121bid.

3Ibid.

The Home Environment

curious result of all this. Our family devotions were held not only for us but for the servants as well. Devotional meetings were frequently held in the rectory kitchen on Sunday evening. When my father was away my mother took charge. Once when my father was spending most of his time in London as a member of Convocation

(November 1710 until February 1712) some members of the congregation joined our little meetings. At first there were only thirty or forty but by the time my father returned the attendance had reached more than 200. Although mother was criticized by many of the other villagers, she simply laid this aside saying "that she had long taken leave of the world, and that everything which conduces to the salvation of souls appears odd to others.'"'14

Thus, we were all taught to admire a sense of vital piety leading to a wholehearted devotion to God. Contributing to this no doubt was the fact that both my parents knew no halfway measures. This can be seen most clearly in their views of religion, both High Church and Puritan.

My father, for example (as I have already mentioned), was not only a High Churchman, but a strong Loyalist as well.15 My mother was also High Church but had strong

Jacobite sympathies, accepting the ascension of William and Mary de facto but not de jure.1° Again, as we have already noted, this would inevitably put her at cross purposes at some point with my father. Yet, itis not surprising that I too should develop an appreciation for the High

Church tradition.

Both my parents also had strong Puritan roots. The Puritans sought to purify the church from all unscriptural forms of public worship. In their fundamental appeal to the Scriptures, they also looked to reason and experience embodying a "conception of the Christian life in terms of 14Journal, Vol. III, p. 33.

three of his principal works were dedicated to Royalty. For example, Samuel's book, Studies in the Book of Job, was presented in person by John to Queen Caroline on October 12, 1735; see chapter 10.

16Jacobite is the name given to the Stuart partisans. The Stuart King James II, had been expelled in the Glorious Revolution (1688) as a Roman Catholic and his supporters kept alive the hope of his return to power.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology disciplined living, moral rigorism, and Christianity in earnest.''?7 Is it not natural, therefore, that my parents should stress moral virtue and the place of reason in religion in our devotional training? Early in life I found myself becoming by nature a rigorist, a moralist, and a lover of reason. My father sometimes complained that reason, for example, was so prevalent in me (remember that this would have been underscored by the prevailing philosophy of the day) that I was unwilling to attend to even the barest necessities of life if I could not find a good reason for them.

I think that if this had been the extent of the influence of my earliest home environment, life for me would have been much easier. There was, however, still another influence that would put me at odds with myself forcing an impasse that would take years to resolve. This had to do with mysticism.

Devotional reading was an important part of my parents' discipline. Many of the devotional books being read by serious-minded Christians during the first part of this century were written by the Roman Catholic mystics. We were no exception. So, we read these as well. This would not have presented a problem had I not already been somewhat of a rigorist (relating to my High Church background), a moralist (relating to my Puritan background), and a legalist (since we have already established that I was, by nature, a lover of reason). The result of this was that the influence of much of my earliest devotional reading, which accelerated my appreciation of asceticism (held in common by both Puritan and mystic alike), quickly tapered off into a mystical contemplation that was so subjective that I no longer had sufficient roots to ground me in the evangelical faith.'® Those who understand basic philosophy know that John Newton, Susanna Wesley and the Puritan Tradition in Methodism, p. 43.

of the issue here had to do with a Puritan Christo-centric mediated com-union with God focusing upon justification on the one hand, over and against a mystic theo-centric unmediated union with God focusing upon sanctification on the other. The details outlining the nature of this impasse are given in 'The Analysis, Part I."

The Home Environment

it is impossible to be both an Aristotelian and a Platonist at the same time. Does reason lead to faith, or does faith lead to reason (or understanding)? This was my dilemma. The battleground proved to be the first thirteen years of my ministry.'? Fortunately, the Scriptures finally won out, taking the strength of the one and counteracting the weaknesses of the other. Although the resolution of this impasse would eventually prove to be the particular genius of our so-called Methodist Revival, this was a long time coming.

Let me describe briefly a few of the devotional books that had such an influence on me and my parents during those early formative years. The few sparks of piety in the preReformation church were mostly among the mystics. It is predictable, therefore, that there would have been, among the Puritans, an admiration for the mystical piety which (like Puritanism) began with a high regard for mortification and self-denial. Even though mysticism failed to acknowledge the essentials of the evangelical faith, carefully used, these mystics could strengthen the Puritan resolve to a pure and holy life. One should not be surprised, therefore, to find that my mother's father, Samuel Annesley, had an acquaintance with these mystics. He knew Gregory of Nyssa and referred to him when writing on "What it is to Love God with the Whole Heart.''?° He knew Francois de

Sales and appealed to him when arguing "the love of God as a gift of the Spirit." He also knew St. Teresa and referred to her well-known maxim, "All that is not God is nothing," in one of his sermons."? Consequently, it is easy to see how my mother's emphasis on the will, on humility, and on the outworkings of prayer in love toward one's neighbor, could be strongly reminiscent of the mysticism of St. Teresa and The Interior Castle. °

In addition, mother read the quasi-mystic Blaise Pascal, 19This is the story of Part II, "His Early Ministry."

20See A Supplement to the Morning Exercise at Cripplegate, ed. by Samuel Annesley, second edition (1676), pp. 4-5.

23Newton, Susanna Wesley, p. 136.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology and told me that he was the one who helped rescue her from skepticism.*4 Pascal recommended a rigorous mortification to enable one to endure pain and suffering with joy and satisfaction. Although my mother disliked his glorification of spiritual trials to the extent of welcoming temptation, she did admire his exceptional piety and she quotes him both in her theological writings and in her private correspondence.?5

Furthermore, the mystic Lorenzo Scupoli and his Pugna Spiritualis or Spiritual Combat (known through Castaniza's translation) held a central place in my mother's devotional reading. Undoubtedly she was predisposed toward the Spiritual Combat by her father's typically Puritan understanding of the Christian life as a Holy War. Scupoli, addressing the understanding and the will, argues that a man must "hate himself, renounce his own ego, and turn with wholehearted love to God." Although feeling and emotion may follow, Scupoli (like Pascal in many ways), found

Virtus Patientiae the essential factor in Christian obedience, that is, the readiness to accept suffering and temptation as "grist for the mill of perfection." My mother heard in this particular type of mysticism the summons to continue the struggle for Christian perfection and to withdraw from the things of the world, for 'the love of God alone is efficacious and all-powerful.' This was to have a most profound influence upon me.

My mother also knew and recommended & Kempis, the Cambridge Platonists More and Norris, and the Scottish mystic, Henry Scougal, author of the influential The Life of God in the Soul of Man.?° According to Scougal, love has an irresistible power. It is the force which transforms every- *4It is interesting to note that in philosophy mysticism is frequently pitted against skepticism and that Susanna (like John), though never disparaging of reason, reacts against the extreme rationalism of her day.

See her letter to John dated August 18, 1725.

SSusanna would also object to Scupoli on the issue of "welcoming temptation." She frequently quotes the words from the Lord's prayer:

"Lead us not into temptation." Cf. Newton, Susanna Wesley, p. 138.

According to George Whitefield, this book led him to faith.

The Home Environment

thing. It bestows its own quality upon every attribute of the soul and gives direction to them. The object of a man's love determines his worth. The one who loves vulgar things is himself vulgar. He who loves God participates gradually in the nobility of the divine world. Both my mother and I were much affected by Scougal.

Now, a brief word about my father is needed. Although he had the dull obstinacy of a rigid formalist, being more prone to political and ecclesiastical quarrels than to internal religion, he too was influenced by the mystics. As we have already mentioned, my father's life at Epworth was not an easy one and hardly conducive to spiritual indulgence, but the fact remains that he too knew a Kempis

(according to many the springboard to mysticism), who was his "old friend and companion." He also frequently referred to Pascal and the French mystic de Renty. I remember a letter to me dated July 14, 1725, where he cautioned me against the "peril of levity" (paraphrasing

Ecclesiastes 7:16-18, and quoting Ecclesiastes 11:9 and 12:14), stating that mortification is still an indispensable

Christian duty.

Although there is much more to be said, allow me to summarize by simply saying that we were all living in those early days within an atmosphere that was at once

High Church, Puritan, and mystical. I can now see that the several pilgrimages of faith for my parents and myself have interesting parallels along so many lines. This should become even more apparent as my story continues.

A Student: Charterhouse and Christ Church, Oxford Being removed to the University for five years, I still said my prayers both in public and in private, and read, with the Scriptures, several other books of religion, ouedaly comments on the New Testament. Yet I had not all this while so much as a notion of inward holiness.

John Wesley I remained at home until I was nearly eleven. Although I did not in my earlier years attend any public or private school, since my mother (as you might well imagine) had a poor opinion of the common methods of teaching and governing children, I did not seem to suffer. The influence of her pious instructions, softened by her tenderness, was so faithful and uniform that I found myself at no real disadvantage. In fact, I appeared so serious-minded about education as well as religion that my father allowed me to receive the sacrement at the age of eight.

I entered Charterhouse, a boarding school for boys in London, on January 28, 1714, in its centenary year.! I occupied one of the few free places for ''poor scholars"' having been nominated by the former Marquis of Normanby (my father's patron who some ten years earlier had been created Duke of Buckingham). The first two paragraphs in my Journal review for May 24, 1738, describe this period. Let me give them to you much as they stand, and then interpret them briefly."

I believe until I was about ten years old I had not sinned 1Charterhouse had been founded on October 3, 1614. See Telford,

The Life of John Wesley, p. 23 for greater detail.

2The following is a paraphrase.

For the full account see Works, Vol. I, P2978:

John Wesley: His Life and Theology away that 'washing of the Holy Ghost" which was given to me in baptism. I had been strictly educated and carefully taught that I could be saved only "by universal obedience," and "by keeping all the commandments of God."

Those instructions, so far as they respected outward duties and sins, I glady received, and considered carefully. But all that was said to me of inward obedience, or holiness, I neither understood nor remembered. So much so that I was as ignorant of the true meaning of the law, as I was of the gospel of Christ.

The next six or seven years were spent at school. As outward restraints were now removed, I was much more negligent than before, even of outward duties. I was almost continually guilty of outward sins, which I committed knowingly, though they were not scandalous in the eyes of the world. I still read the Scriptures, however, and also said my prayers, morning and evening. What I then hoped to be saved by was: 1) not being so bad as other people, 2) having still a kindness for religion, and, 3) reading the Bible, going to church, and saying my prayers.

Although I intended that these words should refer mostly to my inadequate view of saving faith, there is much here which has been misunderstood even by my closest friends. In spite of my ''negligence,'' Charterhouse was a good experience. Even today, I rarely go to London without visiting there. It shall always be dear to me. I rarely miss an opportunity to renew acquaintance with my former Charterhouse schoolmates.

The rigorous regulations and the modest style of living were reinforced by many letters from home. Each day was begun at 5:00. I washed, read prayers, wrote letters, and, true to a promise made to my father, ran three times around the garden before breakfast at 8:00. Breakfast consisted of bread, cheese, and beer (tea or coffee being much too expensive). These hard, frugal times were important to me. It was here, for example, that I first discovered

3Works, Vol. I, p. 98.

4Works, Vol. III, pp. 176, 335.

A Student: Charterhouse and Christ Church, Oxford

that one can manage quite well on a staple diet of bread alone.

Furthermore, Dr. Walker, my headmaster, seemed to favor me above all his other students. My mother had well prepared me to learn, and even though Dr. Walker was

(according to those misguided people who would judge the effectiveness of the mind by the age of the body) past his prime, being sixty-seven years old, I seemed to excel almost from the start.

Equally important, during this time I drew closer to my older brother, Samuel, Jr. As an usher at Westminster he was becoming a reasonably responsible scholar and poet and challenged me greatly whenever our Sundays and holiday times brought us happily together. As my parents had advised me not to make the expensive trip home too frequently, many of my idle moments were spent with Samuel and his young wife in Dean's Yard where I was not only entertained but also carefully instructed by one who was as well equipped to teach as any one I have ever known. This was so much of an advantage that when I left for Christ Church, Oxford, I received a prize of twenty pounds in addition to an exhibition for the same amount. I will never forget an encounter with Dr. Sacheverell during my last week at school, when he greeted me with the words: 'You are too young to go to the university; you cannot know Greek and Latin yet. Go back to school!''5

Forgive me if I smile inwardly a bit when I say to you with some pride that Charterhouse prepared me admirably. It pleases me to know that my former school regards me as one of its "greatest'' sons. Some years ago these few words of verse were written in my honor:

John Wesley was one of our company, Prophet untiring and fearless of tongue, Down the long years he went Spending yet never spent, Serving his God with a heart ever young.®

I remember happily accepting the role of steward at the 5Dr. Henry Sacheverell, an opponent of the Dissenters, assisted

Wesley's father in the controversy over "obedience to authority."

6Letters, Vol. I, p. 3.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Founders' Day dinner on December 12, 1727. I also remember spending an extended period at Charterhouse after my return from Germany in the late summer of 1738.

In fact, Charterhouse was to become a kind of "'place apart," where I could retire for months at a time without much interruption.'

Before going further I need to tell you about two aspects of my personality that seemed to take shape and form during these early years. One has to do with my inordinate fear of dying and the other with my interest in apparitions.

Charterhouse, besides being a school for boys, was also an infirmary for old men. I became accustomed to seeing death. The less serious boys made jokes (which, I suppose, kept them from contemplating their own mortality), but I could not escape so easily. As the old men were carried out,

I found myself plagued by haunting doubts. I would become depressed. During the worst of times I busied myself translating Latin to keep from thinking, but then, when | least expected it, the question: "What if I should die?"

Death became the enemy! If I speak to you plainly I must admit that I became a man obsessed. I remember some years later discovering Dr. Cheyne's Book of Health and Long Life, whose advice | instantly put into practice.§ I also developed an interest in medicine, eventually writing the Primitive Physick: or, An Easy and Natural Method of Curing

Most Diseases, which was published in 1776. Then, as the years progressed the stirring testimonies of our dying

Methodists (many of which appear in my Journal) brought me some relief; but even today, a now toothless enemy waits impatiently, though my victory over the fear itself is virtually won.

A second aspect of my personality (perhaps not entirely unrelated) concerns my interest in apparitions. While I It is likely that one of the first Methodist fellowship meetings met at Charterhouse and it was here that Wesley prepared either the first

Methodist Hymnbook of 1739 or the edition of 1740. He also wrote to many of his friends from his Charterhouse rooms. See Journal, Vol. Il, p.

77 and pp. 130-155, for example.

read the fourth edition of this book which appeared in 1725 and commented upon itin a letter to his mother. See Letters, Vol. I, p. 11.

A Student: Charterhouse and Christ Church, Oxford

was away at Charterhouse some rather strange things began to happen at the Epworth rectory. My sisters, Sukey and Nancy, first heard the knockings of a 'supernatural' visitant on December 1, 1716. Other sounds like groans and the crashing of bottles were soon to follow. Although my mother first suggested that the noises were made by rats and hired a villager, John Maw, to blow a horn throughout the house to scare them away, the disturbances continued. Eventually, even my father was convinced that the sounds (which included footsteps apparently made by someone wearing jack-boots, the banging of doors, the shattering of glass, the splintering of wood, the pouring of coins on the floor, and even the gobbling like that of a turkey cock, but all without any outward physical manifestation) were too regular and persistent for any natural causes. After some months, which included some sleepless nights, 'Old Jeffrey'"' (so named by my sister, Emilia, after one who had died in the house), ceased to terrify and became more of a nuisance and a bore. My family came to accept the annoying "ghost" as a matter of fact. Even my younger sisters were no longer alarmed. Frequently when one or the other was doing her chores, like sweeping the floor, she often heard sweeping being done behind her, and only regretted that the visitant would not take the broom into his or its hands and do the work for her. Then, suddenly, the visitations ended as abruptly as they had begun.

When I went home following my years at Charterhouse, I made careful inquiry into everything that had happened.

Again, following my years at Christ Church, Oxford, I discussed the affair with all whom I could, taking careful notes, which I used for a recent article in the Arminian

Magazine.

You might well ask, what doI make of all this?

Let me comment briefly.

It appears that Old Jeffrey was politically conscious. He was especially violent whenever my father prayed for King

George I. It occurs to me that the visitations were perhaps intended to remind my father of the sinfulness of his deser9See Arminian Magazine (1784), pp. 548-550, 606-608, 654-656.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology tion of my mother in 1702. "I fear his vow was not forgotten before God,"' nor apparently by this Jacobite "friend."

Furthermore, some have questioned why I should include this, and many other such stories, in my Works. Admittedly it is hard to keep the middle way; 'not to believe too little or too much!''!° Yet, it is likewise true "that the English in general, and indeed most of the men of learning in Europe have given up all accounts of (demon possession) and apparitions, as mere old wives' fables. lam sorry for it; and I willingly take this opportunity of entering my solemn protest against this violent compliment which so many that believe the Bible pay to those who do not believe it. lowe them no such service. I take knowledge, these are at the bottom of the outcry which has been raised, and with such insolence spread throughout the nation, in direct opposition not only to the Bible, but to the suffrage of the wisest and best of men in all ages and nations. They well know, (whether Christians know it or not,) that the giving up (demon possession) is, in effect, giving up the Bible; and they know, on the other hand, that if but one account of the intercourse of men with separate spirits be admitted, their whole castle in the air (Deism, Atheism, Materialism) falls to the ground. I know no reason, therefore, why we should suffer even this weapon to be wrested out of our hands. Indeed there are numerous arguments besides, which abundantly confute their vain imaginations. But we need not be hooted out of one; Neither reason nor religion require this.''11

It has always amused me that "one of the capital objections to all these accounts, which I have known urged over and over, is this, 'Did you ever see an apparition yourself?'

No: Nor did I ever see a murder; yet I believe there is sucha thing; yea, and that in one place or another murder is committed every day. Therefore I cannot, as a reasonable

Vol. III, p. 202. Here (Dec. 14, 1764) Wesley reads Baxter's book on "'apparitions.'" Some of this he accepts; some he does not.

"Works, Vol. III, pp. 324f. These words were written as a preface to similar stories recorded in the Journal. The words in parentheses replace the words "witches" and "witchcraft." Demon possession is closer to Wesley's meaning as we now understand it.

A Student: Charterhouse and Christ Church, Oxford

man, deny the fact; although I never saw it, and perhaps never may. The testimony of unexceptionable witnesses fully convinces me both of the one and the other." 1? But enough of this. We must now return to the story of my days as a student.

I entered Christ Church, the most distinguished college in Oxford, on June 24, 1720. I was determined to learn as well as I could; but I was extremely poor. I remember seeing a friend have his cap and wig snatched as he was standing at a coffee-house door and thinking to myself: "I am pretty safe from such gentlemen, for unless they carry me away, carcass and all, they would have but a poor purchase." Had it not been for the generosity of my brother Samuel, my tutor, Dr. Sherman (who transmitted to me the rent of the rooms to which he was entitled but in which he did not reside), and a few friends who were kind enough to make small loans, I might well have starved. I remember a letter from my mother: "Dear Jacky, be not discouraged. Perhaps, notwithstanding all, we shall pick up a few crumbs for you before the end of the year.'" She again advised me not to make the expensive journeys home but to use that money for a wiser and a better purpose, namely to pay debts, and make things easier for myself.

Again, let me share with you and then interpret briefly a paragraph from my Journal review for May 24, 1738, corresponding with these years as an undergraduate. "Being removed to the university for five years, I still said my prayers both in public and in private, and read, with the Scriptures, several other books of religion, especially comments on the New Testament. Yet I had not all this while so much as a notion of inward holiness; nay, went on habitually, and, for the most part, very contentedly in some or other known sin: Indeed, with some intermission and short struggles, especially before and after the Holy

Communion, which] was obliged to receive thrice a year. I cannot well tell what I hoped to be saved by now, when I was continually sinning against that little light I had; un12]bid.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology less by those transient fits of what many Divines taught me to call repentance.'' 13

Although I retained a kindliness toward religion, religion was not yet "the business of my life"; I was not yet homo unius libri (aman of one book). As an undergraduate I pursued my studies with great advantage under the direction of Dr. Wiggin, a gentleman eminent for his knowledge of classical literature. I then studied under his successor,

Henry Sherman, a friend of my brother Samuel's. As a young student, I soon developed classical tastes as well.

My writing, so I was told, gained polish and wit. I even tried my hand at poetry though most of this was either an imitation or translation of the Latin. I remember sending my father an imitation of the 65th Psalm. I shall never forget his reply: "I like your verses on the 65th Psalm and would not have you bury your talent.''"14

Much of what I was expected to learn, however, was "an idle, useless interruption of useful studies, horribly shockingly superficial, an insult upon common sense.''!4 S07] pursued what I liked best. I became fascinated with logic. I regarded Aldrich's Compendium Artis Logicae with profound reverence and eventually published my own translation of this remarkable work. Consequently, it was during this period that I was first attracted to a method of debate

(which I frequently employ even now) known as argumentum ad hominem or reductio ad absurdum where, by appealing to an opponent's own prejudice, I could use their own arguments against them, and then, if need be, reduce them to the absurd.15

Works, Vol. I, p. 98.

4See Green, The Young Mr. Wesley, p. 62n.

on, for example, we find Wesley using Thomas a Kempis (a Catholic) against the Catholic polemic in Ireland; he used Fénelon's

Simplicity against mystical refinement in religion; Madame Bourignon (a mystic) is used against the mystical antinomian concept of grace;

Gregory Lopez is used against Madame Guyon; Anna Maria Van Schurmann is used against William Law; and even the mystical divinity of Dionysius is used against the Moravian "Stillness" at FetterLane. The latter backfired when some in the Society failed to see the error of the argument even when reduced to the absurd. It should also be added that this may have been an effective form of debate, but it has been confus-

A Student: Charterhouse and Christ Church, Oxford 59 Before concluding the story of this particular period of my life I should also add that while at Oxford I was still haunted by thoughts of death and I continued my interest in the supernatural. I remember being impressed by the story of a young man reputed to be seized by a demon. On another occasion I remember wanting to visit a house near

Oxford that was said to be haunted.

So, I found myself during these early Oxford years strengthening my analytical prowess. This accentuated my intellectual impetuosity. I grew impatient. Perhaps this is why my brother Charles always claimed that I could never keep a secret. Although I spent hours in reflection, this bore no proportion to my quickness of apprehension. It was extremely difficult for me to delay either in reasoning or in acting. I was young. I was happy (of sorts), but something was missing. Then, during the year following my undergraduate work, several things began to happen almost all at once. ing for the historian. Wesley, if not carefully read, frequently gives the appearance of self-contradiction; but, when his arguments are examined closely, an interesting consistency is revealed.

16See Letters, Vol. I, pp. 6, 13-14, and cf. p. 168n.

seh et i Se ae SE A RS Se tei yal can ie 'ee » ' adit MUGS Ihe tr

A Religious Conversion Dear Jacky —The alteration of your temper has occasioned me much speculation.1... hope it may proceed from the operation of God's Holy Spirit, that by taking away your relish of sensual enjoyments, he may prepare and dispose your mind for a more serious and close application to things of a more sublime and spiritual nature.

. In good earnest, resolve to make religion the business of your life.

Susanna Wesley For me, the fact that I should consider Holy Orders was as normal as breathing. My ancestors on both sides of the family had distinguished themselves by service to the church; but, a dilemma was presenting itself. I had received my B.A. degree toward the end of 1724, but what to do? Up to that point I had not practiced to any remarkable degree, the kind of piety so necessary for the Christian ministry. Although I had not been a blatant sinner, if | was to come to any kind of commitment in regard to ordination, some changes had to be made.

I remember reading the words of Montesquieu some years later: "In England there is no religion and the subject, if mentioned in society, evokes nothing but laughter." It pains me to admit that a Frenchman could make such ajudgment upon our little kingdom, but he was right.

It would take courage to follow Christian service in the tradition of my forefathers. The Oxford community was noted for its jibes aimed at those who studied theology.

They were characterized as second-rate weaklings (and not altogether without reason) whose primary "'calling'' was to secure all the fat, comfortable benefices they could.

Such a calling for me, however, would have to find roots in integrity and a willingness to uphold (if not defend)

John Wesley: His Life and Theology an office or religion with a mind to holiness and order.

In December (1724) I made a tentative decision to seek ordination and in January I confided in my father. I wrote to him asking his advice as to ordination and suitable commentaries on the Bible; thinking that this would please him greatly. 1 must admit that I was a little surprised by his reply. He cautioned me against the very thing that had already been in my mind and judiciously warned me against looking for an easy life in the ministry

—a means of simply providing a living. Would I pass my life, as did so many, in hunting for parish livings, without a thought for the souls I would be held responsible for at the judgment seat of God? He exhorted me to weigh the cost and then to wait until my mind was more determined.?

The result of all this was confusion. I hovered for a time at the point of depression. Then on February 23, 1725, my mother wrote: "Dear Jacky: The alteration of your temper

. has occasioned me much speculation. I, who am apt to be sanguine, hope it may proceed from the operations of God's Holy Spirit, that by taking away your relish of sensual enjoyments, he may prepare and dispose your mind for a more serious and close application to things of a more sublime and spiritual nature. If it be so, happy are you if you cherish those dispositions, and now, in good earnest, resolve to make religion the business of your life; for, after all, that is the one thing that strictly speaking is necessary, and all things else are comparatively little to the purposes of life. I heartily wish you would now enter upon a serious examination of yourself, that you may know whether you have a reasonable hope of salvation; that is whether you are in a state of faith and repentance or not, which you know are the conditions of the Gospel covenant on our part. If you are, the satisfaction of knowing it would abundantly reward your pain; if not, you will find a more reasonable occasion for tears than can be met with in a tragedy. This matter eserves great consideration by all,

'Samuel commented that the Bible was its own best commentary but apart from that, Grotius was the best for the most part, expecially on the Old Testament. See Whitehead, John Wesley, Vol. 1, pp. 384¢.

Green, The Young Mr. Wesley, p. 66, for the same period.

A Religious Conversion

but especially by those designed for the ministry; who ought, above all things, to make their own calling and election sure; lest, after they have preached to others, they themselves should be cast away.'

Frankly, I think that if her letter had ended there, my depression would have continued. But then followed (in the same letter) the encouragement that I was seeking. She commented on the letter to my father concerning ordination. 'I was much pleased with it, and liked the proposal as well; but it is an unhappiness almost peculiar to our family that your father and I seldom think alike. I approve the disposition of your mind, and think the sooner you are a deacon the better; because it may be an inducement to greater application in the study of practical divinity, which I humbly concede is the best study for candidates for Orders. Mr. Wesley differs from me, and would engage you, I believe, in critical learning, which, though accidentally of use, is in no wise preferable to the other. I earnestly pray

God to avert that great evil from you of engaging in trifling studies to the neglect of such as are absolutely necessary.

I dare advise nothing: God Almighty direct and bless you! I have much to say, but cannot write you more at present. I long to see you. I wish all be well. Adieu! Susanna Wesley.'"'4 Can you doubt for a moment the tremendous impact that this correspondence had upon my life during these formative months?

A rather careless proverb has it: "What woman wills, God wills." I was not surprised that my father, in a letter dated March 13, 1725, concurred with my mother and encouraged me to enter Orders as soon as possible, to devote myself to prayer and study, and to work especially on St. John Chrysostom and the Articles of the Church. It should also be stated (as it occurs to me now) that my father's change of disposition might have been motivated by more than my mother's "advice." He had just been granted the additional living of Wroot and could (to put it honestly) use my help. At any rate, my decision was made.

3Tyerman, The Life and Times of John Wesley, Vol. I, p. 32. Italics mine.

'Ibid.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology In preparation for Holy Orders, I chose to remain at Oxford in order to fulfill the requirements for the Master's degree, living in the same rooms used in Christ Church.

Perhaps a college Fellowship would become vacant providing the financial security necessary to free me from the temptation of accepting a parish for the wrong reasons.

Then, however, things began to happen so quickly that it is difficult to remember the exact order of events over the next few months.

On April 5 I began my Diary.5 Less than two weeks later I journeyed west from Oxford into the Cotswolds, a beautiful range of mountains pocked with quaint villages, rising up just north and east of Bristol. On April 15 I met Sally

Kirkham whose father, the Rev. Lionel Kirkham, was rector at Stanton. Although there were at least five families in the three villages of Buckland, Broadway, and Stanton who were to influence me greatly over the next few years, I have singled out Sally since she was to become my first religious friend.© She would be my Varanese, the designated pseudonym used in our correspondence. She was both witty and sensible and I was so drawn to her that I quickly and freely shared with her the dilemma of my wanting to follow with integrity a calling to Christian ministry. I confessed my ambivalent feelings to her. On the one hand, I wanted to make (to use my mother's words) "religion the business of my life"; but, on the other, I wanted to enjoy what I thought to be much gayer times. So, I would go dancing one day and even play cards in the Common Room at Oxford, but then have those "transient fits of repentance" the next.

As I confided in Sally, she was so sympathetic (but never indulging) and helpful with her advice that I soon found myself comparing her with my mother. I remember think- 'A facsimile of page 1 of Wesley's Diary can be found in the Journal

(Curnock ed.), Vol. 1, p. 37.

significance of this religious friend can be seen in the Journal review for May 24, 1738. The five families mentioned here (and there were others to a lesser degree) were the Tookers, the Granvilles, the Griffiths, the Kirkhams, and the Winningtons. See Green, The Young

Mr. Wesley, pp. 202ff. for further details on these families.

A Religious Conversion

ing to myself: "xdote BorjGer (Lord, help me)! I'm in love!"

I felt a sudden panic. My sister Emilia had written me from Wroot just one week earlier despairing of frustrated love. A part of that letter reads: ''.

. whether you will be engaged before thirty or not I cannot determine; but if my advice is worth listening to, never engage your affections before your worldly affairs are in such a posture that you may marry very soon.

. Were! to live my time over again and had the same experience I have now, were it for the best man in England I would not wait one year. I know you area young man encompassed with difficulties that has passed through many hardships already .

. but believe me if you ever come to suffer the torment of a hopeless love all other afflictions will seem small in comparison of it.''"? Emilia's remarks seemed alarmingly appropriate. After all, what did I have to offer? My family was impoverished, and I was stillin debt. Yet, in spite of mistrusted feelings, my friendship with Sally grew. I showed her my Diary. She approved, and placed in my hands a copy of Bishop Taylor's

Rule and Exercises of Holy Living and Dying which so sealed my daily practice of recording my actions (which I have continued faithfully until this moment) that I later prefaced that first Diary with his 'Rules and Resolutions.''® This helped me to develop a style of introspection that would keep me in constant touch with most of my feelings, whether religious or otherwise.

Soon after this Sally encouraged me to read Thomas a Kempis's Imitation of Christ. This too found its mark. Consequently, both Taylor and a Kempis (although there was much in their writings that I called into question), along with countless conversations with Varanese and the correspondence with my mother, were responsible for my religious conversion. It was at this time that I determined that God should have me or I would perish.

7See Tyerman, Life and Times, Vol. I, p. 33, for this letter in full.

8See Journal, Vol. I, p. 48, for a copy of these 'Rules and Resolutions.'' There were actually two books, The Rule and Exercises of Holy

Living, and The Rule and Exercises of Holy Dying. Jeremy Taylor (16131667) was one of the classic writers of the Anglican Church.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology When I returned to Oxford I initiated a significant correspondence with my mother. I was now reading both Taylor and a Kempis even more carefully, but still not without some reservation. Sally and I both thought them too strict at some points.? On June 18 I wrote to my mother: If Taylor's conception of humility (as despising oneself and always thinking of oneself as worse than others) and repentance (where forgiveness cannot be perceived) are essential to salvation, then '"who can be saved''?19 My mother replied: "Taylor seeks in humility an habitual disposition which is far more comprehensive than your narrow understanding. Our humility should be in contrast with God more than man. One who realizes his unworthiness before God will also realize (without thinking) his unworthiness before man." 1! This was helpful. I began to put many of Taylor's Rules into practice, taking a more exact account of the manner in which I spent my time, writing down how I used every hour. !? I summarized the result of all this in my treatise A Plain Account of Christian

Perfection where I noted: 'In the year 1725, being in the 23rd year of my age, I met with Bishop Taylor's 'Rule and Exercises of Holy Living and Dying.' In reading several parts of this book, I was exceedingly affected; that part in particular which relates to purity of intention. Instantly I resolved to dedicate all my life to God, all my thoughts, and words, and actions; being thoroughly convinced, there was no medium; but that every part of my life (not some only) must either be a sacrifice to God, or myself, that is, in effect, to the devil.''13

Taylor's influence was significant indeed. His Rules later *Wesley writes: "I have heard one I take to be a person of good judgment (i.e. Sally Kirkham) say that she would advise no one very young to read Taylor... he almost put her out of her senses... because he seemed to exclude all from being in a way of salvation who did not come up to his rules, some of which are altogether impracticable." Letters, Vol. I, pp. 17-20.

See Letters, Vol. I, pp. 17-20 for this letter in full.

"See Tyerman, Life and Times, Vol. 1, pp. 39-40 for this letter in full, "Wesley's cryptic phrase, "idleness slays," entered several times into the Oxford Diary, no doubt reveals a summary of Taylor's teaching on the same subject. Cf. Journal, Vol. I, p. 55, with Holy Living, I, i.

3Works, Vol. XI, p. 366.

A Religious Conversion

formed the basis for the Twelve Rules of a Helper, and eventually the Rules for the United Societies. I liked his combination of outward observance with inward intention. He taught me that total self-discipline applies both to the body and to the soul. The religious axiom, ''The body and soul make a man but the Spirit and discipline make a Christian" has become one of my favorite expressions. 14

Thomas a Kempis, like Taylor, influenced me greatly although again, not without some reservation. I wrote to my mother on May 28, 1725: "I can't think that when God sent us into the world he had irreversibly decreed that we should be perpetually miserable in it. If it be so, the very endeavor after happiness in this life is a sin; as it is acting in direct contradiction to the very design of our creation.

What are become of all the innocent comforts and pleasures of life, if itis the intent of our Creator that we should never taste them?''15

Much to my relief, on June 8, my mother replied that although she had a Kempis by her side she had not read him lately and could not recollect the passage to which I was referring. She then stated that 4 Kempis was undoubtedly "'an honest weak man, who had more zeal than knowledge." Then sensing my anxiety about my "innocent pleasures,'" she applied this practical. criterion:

"Whatever weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense of God, or takes off the relish of spiritual things .

. that thing is sin to you, however innocent it may be in itself.'"" I remember then a letter from my father, who apparently not fully satisfied with my mother's impressions, wrote to set the matter straight. After conceding that 4 Kempis might have been somewhat one-sided, he reiterated the indispensable duty of mortification. 'The world is asyren, and we must havea care for her; and if the young man will rejoice in his youth, yet let him take care that his joys be innocent; and, in order to this remember that for all these things God will bring him into judgment." My father then concluded that his ''friend

14Sermons, Vol. I, p. 468. a Letters iV Olek) pide:

John Wesley: His Life and Theology and old companion . .

. may be read to great advantage."

So what was the result of all this? Again, from my Journal review for May 24, 1738, I wrote that: '''The providence of God directing me to Kempis's 'Christian Pattern,' I began to see that true religion was seated in the heart, and that God's law extended to all our thoughts as well as words and actions. I was, however, very angry at Kempis, for being too strict; though I read him only in Dean Stanhope's translation. Yet I had frequently much sensible comfort in reading him, such as I was an utter stranger to before.

. .I began to alter the whole form of my conversation, and to set in earnest upon a new life. I set apart an hour or two a day for religious retirement. Icommunicated every week. I watched against all sin, whether in word or deed. I began to aim at, and pray for, inward holiness.''16

Now, before describing my early ministry, let's review the sequence of these last important events. My religious friend, Sally Kirkham, convinced me to read Taylor where I discovered that there was no medium in religion. My entire life must be given either to God, or the devil. Then A Kempis further convinced me of the nature and extent of inward religion. True religion was seated in the heart and therefore one must give not just his life, but also his heart to God. The conversations with Varanese and the correspondence with my parents then helped to put all of this into proper perspective. For me, 'simplicity of intention and purity of affection" had become the 'wings of the souls?

It was settled! Although the issue of faith, whether mystic or reformed (this problem had been accentuated by both Taylor and 4 Kempis), would prolong my "evangelical'' conversion for some thirteen years, the dilemma was over. On September 19, 1725, I was ordained deacon by John Potter, the Bishop of Oxford. It is strange how some moments live with you forever.

'Works, Vol. I, p. 99 The Christian Pattern is an alternate title for The Imitation of Christ. Wesley published his own translation in 1735 which is entitled The Christian Pattern: Or a Treatise of the Imitation of Christ.

'7Works, Vol. II, p. 366.

The Analysis, Part | Everyone is born either an Aristotelian or a Platonist; one or the other, but no one can be both simultaneously.

Samuel Coleridge In an attempt to have Mr. Wesley tell his ''own" story, | have been unable (except by footnote) to make the kind of personal comment so important for a relevant biography. We however do have the advantage of studying Wesley's life in retrospect.

One needs, therefore (if we are properly to anticipate the rest of the biography), to make at this point some observations concerning matters that he might not have been aware of himself.

Consequently, the objective here is both reemphasis and overall perspective. Our purpose is not only to explain the dynamics of Part |, but also to prepare you for Part Il. Admittedly, if the chapters at the end of each part are combined, they comprise a fairly complete evaluation of Mr. Wesley's theological and emotional development. If this development is not related to his life "in process," however, confusion sets in easily.

John Wesley was to become a great theologian, but theology was not his greatest strength. John Wesley was to become a great preacher, but preaching was not his greatest strength.

Wesley's most significant contribution to the eighteenth century and to the church as a whole lies in his exceptional ability to organize people into the kind of body that would sustain both them and the movement called the eighteenth-century

Evangelical Revival. With this clearly in mind, our task now is to examine the influences that would enable John Wesley to function as a theologian/evangelist so that his real strength

John Wesley: His Life and Theology could be manifest practically in the life of the church. What were his motivating principles? Where did he stand with regard to the basic doctrines of the church? In short, how did

Wesley '"'do'' theology so that he might become the man called by God to change the history of a nation?

If Wesley's greatest strengths were not to lie in his theology or preaching, it was simply because he would have even greater strengths which were tied closely to the needs of people. His practical theology rarely drew attention to itself, but was constantly geared to his own needs and then to the needs of those given into his care. The major problem with dealing with a practical theologian, however, is that his theology seems to shift as needs shift. Here, therefore, we will examine Wesley's theology within the context of his life in an effort to interpret just where the emphasis needs to be placed.

A word of caution. Some will be tempted to skip these analysis chapters as unnecessary interruptions in what might otherwise be considered a 'pleasant' biography. Do not do it!

Unless | can adequately demonstrate the interdependence of the biographical chapters and the analyses, the book as a whole misses its mark. Good biography is concerned with facts, but it is more than that. It also struggles with the soul of its character. As in the biographical sections, | have attempted to use language acceptable to most. Certainly the concepts here are involved and force us to stop and ponder; but, if you want to master John Wesley, here is the price you must pay. Here are the windows into the life of a man. So, with the story of his early years now fresh upon our minds, let's pause for the analysis.

The theological key for Part | is not to be found so much in Wesley's "religious'' conversion (although this brought things into passionate focus) as in the eighteenth-century setting into which he was born and then, to an even greater extent, in the influence of his home environment.

The beginning of the eighteenth century was a breeding ground for theological schizophrenia. Basically there were two schools of thought. On the one hand there were those (to use the Aristotelian model) who thought that reality had to do

The Analysis, Part I

only with those things perceivable by sense experience. Matter, since it could be touched, or smelled, or tasted, or heard, or seen, was real. Since matter was the only reality, one had to reason one's way inductively (by observation) to faith. In a phrase—reason leads to faith.

This had several spin-offs in the eighteenth century. Deism, for example, asserting the basic goodness of man, claimed (as we saw briefly in chapter 2) that man, if left alone, would reason his way to faith. In fact, it exalted reason to the place where faith was discoverable only by ''natural'' theology or things observable by sense experience.

The Church of England, although denying (at least by virtue of its Articles of Religion) that natural theology was the only route to faith, was nonetheless basically Aristotelian in its approach to God. Through its Arminian doctrine it taught that man (since original sin affected him only from the neck down, corrupting his heart but not his intellect) had the freedom to reason his way to faith.' Although his heart was prone to evil, his mind was left free to reason with the heart and respond to God by faith once the call was understood.

To a lesser extent, one branch of Puritanism followed the same model.? The Puritan appeal to reason was to use logic as a tool to make thought clear. Although faith (as in the Church of England) was a matter of divine revelation (where

God completes natural theology through revelation not observable in nature alone), the intellect through practical theology sought to maneuver the heart into the disposition for faith.

The second school of thought included those (to use the Platonic model) who thought that reality had to do with ideals.

Matter, though perceivable by sense experience, was an illusion. Since reality had to do with ideals, not perceivable by sense experience, understanding came (deductively) by faith.

In a phrase—faith leads to reason.

1Arminian theology, arguing for a degree of free will, over and against the tenets of strict Calvinism, found its greatest acceptance in the Church of England.

2Basically the Puritans were divided over their reaction to Quaker ''enthusiasm'"' on the one hand and High Church Anglicanism on the other.

3"Reason" here actually means ''understanding."'

John Wesley: His Life and Theology This too had several spin-offs in the eighteenth century.

Mysticism, for example, was basically Platonic in its approach to God. Although there is some reason to believe that the mystics offered a third alternative shortcutting both reason and faith by direct access to God, they believed that reality was nonsensory and, therefore, accessible only by mystical experience. The essential part of man, a divine spark untouched by original sin, if unencumbered by creation would inevitably return to God by stages culminating in a kind of mystical faith.4

Again, still another branch of Puritanism (exemplified by the Cambridge Platonists on the one hand and the Puritan Divines contributing to the Westminster Confession on the other) tended to follow this second model. They believed that both

"Since ''mysticism'' belongs to that totally useful family of words whose meanings are more in their atmosphere and suggestions, than in their mathematical precision, we can prevent considerable confusion later on by taking some pains to define it here. The basis of mystical theology is '"Orison'' or meditation which is then methodically applied to the disposition of the soul that it might be elevated toward God. Several levels of mystical consciousness are involved, and while mystics in general are by no means unanimous in their description of these levels, an overall pattern does emerge. The pattern usually assumes three (but sometimes four or even five) stages. The first is the purgative stage (usually preceded by some sort of religious awakening similar to Wesley's religious conversion experienced in 1725) involving ascetical exercises and is roughly analagous to the training of an athlete. This rigid discipline, aimed at purifying the body, buffets the flesh that it might never inhibit the spirit. This stage has led some to describe mysticism on the whole as morbid, but one must carry on to judge the tree by its fruits, not by its roots. The first stage, characterized by mortification, must then lead to a second stage, the il/uminative stage. Illumination, asomewhat misleading term involving mystical faith, requires one to concentrate all his faculties on God. This frequently involves a delicate balance between agony and ecstasy as one must ultimately learn to trust God further than he can see.

During this illuminative stage God sends shafts of light into the soul which provide the mystic with 'sensible comforts.'' At this point, however, most would insert an additional stage as the illuminative eye of faith leads into the all-important mystical ''death,'' where (according to the mystic) God withdraws these shafts of light forcing the mystic to come to him by "naked faith."

St. John of the Cross described this death as the "dark night of the soul'' where a supreme moral crisis is constituted as the will of man completely surrenders to the will of God. The final stage in the mystical path is the unitive stage, which has been frequently misinterpreted. While much of the more unguarded language of mystical union has the odor of pathological deification, most mystics understand this ''complete" union with God as an almost unreachable ideal. Even the greatest mystics were involved in an infinite process of growth in which they continued until death.

In chapter 8 Wesley will describe these stages as they apply to his own mystical experiment at Wroot.

The Analysis, Part I

the heart and the intellect were corrupted by sin and that only the grace of God, drawing us by faith, would lead to understanding.

So, the result is that we find here two divergent schools of thought; one insisting that faith comes by reason, the other that reason (or understanding) comes by faith. Coleridge claimed that we are all one or the other, but that no one can be both simultaneously. How did this affect John Wesley?

Maldwyn Edwards reminds us that John Wesley not only influenced the eighteenth century, but that the eighteenth century also influenced John Wesley.® Historically, the stage was set for Wesley with the Aristotelian model and deism as the prevailing philosophy on the one hand and the High

Church, Puritan background of his parents, on the other.® If these had been the only influences, one could simply surmise that Wesley, apparently having a high appreciation for reason, came to a religious understanding in 1725 that led him to faith.

It is not that simple, however. If Wesley was not to find faith (at least in the evangelical sense of the word) until Aldersgate, thirteen years later, what was happening now? Let's look a bit closer.

We mentioned earlier that Wesley was greatly influenced not only by the eighteenth-century but by his home environment as well. A significant part of the influence surrounding

Wesley's home environment involved a tremendous amount of devotional reading. Since little devotional literature was coming out of the High Church tradition as such, and even less from the deists, the reading at the Epworth rectory consisted mostly of the Puritan Divines and mystics." We should not be

5Maldwyn Edwards, Wesley's Social and Political Influence on the Eighteenth Century, see chapter 11.

6Remember that even though Samuel and Susanna were committed to the Established Church (in the High Church tradition) both their parents had distinguished themselves as Dissenters (in the Puritan tradition).

7We must be careful not to belabor this point. Frank Baker, for example, in an article, ''Wesley's Puritan Ancestry,'' comments that since both Samuel and Susanna were converts from Dissent, "it is not surprising that they did not fill their children's heads with stirring tales of their predominantly Puritan forefathers." LQHR, p. 187 (italics mine). Yet, the fact remains that Richard

Baxter, John Bunyan, George Fox, as well as Scupoli-Castaniza, and Henry Scougal were all read devotionally at the Epworth rectory while Wesley was a boy.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology surprised, therefore to find that Wesley, while becoming a lover of reason (after the Aristotelian model) was also developing a real appreciation for mystic theology (after the Platonic model). If Coleridge was correct, then seeds of an impasse were being sown in the mind of John Wesley at an early and impressionable age.

The problem here can be demonstrated stil! further. Wesley's High Church/Puritan/ mystical heritage was bringing still other influences to bear. There was in the High Church tradition, for example, a strong emphasis on asceticism as the '"'handmaid to reason." Since the intellect had not been corrupted by sin, it could instruct the believer through self-denial and mortification. Implementing this was a kind of rigorism focusing upon the sacraments as the means of grace. Likewise there was a strong emphasis on asceticism among the Puritans.

In order to make their calling sure the Puritans focused upon disciplined living and moral rigorism. Being a Christian in earnest was of utmost importance. Furthermore, the mystics also exalted asceticism. As in the High Church and Puritan traditions, spiritual exercises, again focusing upon rigid discipline through self-denial and mortification, were the beginning of true religion. Understandably, ascetical exercises in the High Church tradition (so prevalent in the Puritan and mystical tracts read in the Epworth rectory) would become for Wesley the all in all.® So, his love for reason would eventually work itself out (in more or less degrees) through rigorism, moralism, and legalism. We should now concern ourselves with just how these influences came into play.

Few would question Wesley's intense desire to know and be known by God. His request for assurance of salvation became an obsession. The origins of this "need to know" are deeply rooted. Suffice it to say that from an early age Wesley was constantly reminded of the consequences of sin. It was simply that Wesley did not want to die a sinner since he greatly feared what he thought to be the inevitable result.

Some of this fear was obviously reinforced during his years at Charterhouse where he became well acquainted with death in the infirmary. He was a "'sinner'' constantly being reminded

'This is especially prevalent in chapter 7.

The Analysis, Part I fa) of his mortality. The enemy, however, was not so much sin as death.'° For nearly twenty-five years (1714-1738) Wesley would pursue the kind of assurance that would deliver him from his fear of death and dying. The pilgrimage would take some rather strange turns.

While at Oxford, for example, Wesley was plagued by such thoughts as: ''What, if 'the generation of men be exactly parallel with the generation of leaves?' if the earth drops its successive inhabitants, just as the tree drops its leaves? What, if that saying of a great man be really true,—Post mortem nihil est; ipsaque mors nihil (Death is nothing, and nothing is after death)2'""" Wesley then flirts with the stories of apparitions which seemed to imply some sort of life after death, but he was apparently too "logical'' to find much relief there. Ultimately, as an undergraduate, his only escape from fear was to do what many of us do—not to think much about it.

Then toward the end of 1724 Wesley, now an Oxford graduate, is confronted with a dilemma—what to do? His decision to enter Holy Orders brings the divergent influences into conflict. Wesley's high sense of calling, a brand plucked from the burning, weighed heavily upon him and, for the most part, dormant influences awake with enormous impact. Although Wesley states at this point that he remembered little of holiness or inward obedience, opposing sides were mounting strength and his religious conversion (let's not argue as to whether this was a 'Christian' conversion) brought these influences into play with such force that it took him thirteen years to sort them out.

Here is the problem. Wesley wanted assurance, the inward witness. His religious experience had revived his fear of death.

He could no longer merely lay the issue aside. Two influences previously mentioned emphasized what Wesley interpreted as assurance—Puritanism and mysticism.'

Wesley was no blatant sinner, he was certainly no saint (at least in the image of the Epworth rectory). he 'lt is interesting how throughout the Revival Wesley insists that the "people called Methodists' fear sin more than death.

"Works, Vol. VI, p. 356.

'2It would be good to remember that assurance for the mystic was altogether different from that of the Puritan. Actually Wesley was confusing

John Wesley: His Life and Theology The Puritans taught that faith itself (after the doctrine of the Reformation) was "the [assurance] of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Repent and believe was their formula for faith where 'the Spirit [of God] beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God." So, at the time of his religious conversion Wesley might well have experienced something like the Aldersgate assurance by responding to God through faith in the Puritan (evangelical) sense, but at least two things prevented it.1

First, all of the variant influences had one common denominator—asceticism. To use the Wesleyan phrase: "The body and soul make a man, but the Spirit and discipline make a Christian.'' Wesley was duty bound. His appreciation for assurance of faith in the Puritan sense was momentarily overruled.

Second, the mystics spoke of a union with God where a person could have a constant awareness of God's presence in his life and in the world. This must have sounded too good to be true (in fact, it was, at least by mystical means). Here, thought Wesley, was assurance with a wall around it. This would make him invulnerable to fear. His troublesome doubts would vanish. The enemy would lose his hold, and who knows, if the mystical stories were true, death might even become a friend. The Puritan Christocentric mediated communion with God lost out to a "'loftier'' mystic theocentric unmediated union with God.

The discussion in Part II has to do with Wesley's futile search for an assurance that rigid asceticism could not produce. In fact, one might well conclude that Aristotelian means do not mix with Platonic ends. How can one achieve religious ends

(mystical union) attainable only by faith (the Platonic model), by a philosophy (the Aristotelian model) that achieves religious ends only by reason (asceticism)? Again, Wesley could be one assurance with the mystical union with God which contained what Wesley thought to be an element of assurance but was, in fact, achievable only by "blind trust in the absence of assurance."

"It is my opinion that although the Aldersgate experience was delayed, it was inevitable. Wesley's religious conversion was in earnest. Outler states that the change of heart in 1725 was a "conversion if ever there was one.'

Wesley was clearly in process.

The Analysis, Part I We or the other, but not both simultaneously.

In Part Il we will observe Wesley attempting to link Platonic means with Platonic ends. In 1732, for example, he would opt for faith, not in the Puritan sense, however, but through the mystical understanding of faith as the 'dark night of the soul'

(simply a more subtle kind of inward asceticism) which plunged him even deeper into despair. The enemy loomed larger. The ''sensible comforts'' experienced by reading Taylor and a Kempis were a prelude not to union with God, but to darkness.

Interestingly enough, Part Ill then relates Wesley's reintroduction to faith in the evangelical sense. Wesley (by that time) had had ''darkness'' enough! Ironically the Aldersgate experience, which should have followed his religious conversion immediately, was delayed by the thing that would eventually lead him to greatness—a duty-bound conscience that feared a holy God. A philosophy deadly for the sinner became remedy for the saint. Fortunately, Wesley would preach faith with the same vigor that he preached works.

So, Wesley, in 1725, made religion the business of his life.

He wanted to clean himself up that God might love him. Those who wait until they have ''cleaned'' themselves up before they let God love them, however, wait a long time. Wesley waited thirteen years, and then laid aside all pretense of selfrighteousness in order ''to follow naked, the naked Jesus.'' God then breathed into John Wesley the spirit of new life and the Revival was on! That is the beautiful story left to tell. Let's hear

Wesley describe it himself.

Bibliography, Part I'

Primary Sources John Wesley, Journal, Standard Ed., Nehemiah Curnock, ed. (1909-16), 8 vols.

, Letters, John Telford, ed. (1931), 8 vols.

, A Concise Ecclesiastical History, 4 vols. London: J.

Paramore (1781).

, A Concise History of England, 4 vols. London: R.

Howes (1776).

Green, Richard, The Works of John and Charles Wesley. A Bibliography (1896).

The Union Catalogue of the Publications of John and Charles Wesley, Duke University Divinity School.

Secondary Sources Abbey, C. J., The English Church and Its Bishops, 1700-1800 (1887). peand Ovetton, |v. The English Church in the Eighteenth Century (1878), 2 vols.

Baker, Frank, Charles Wesley (1948).

, 'A Study of John Wesley's Readings,'" LQHR, 168 (1943), 140-45.

, 'Wesley's Puritan Ancestry,'' LQHR, 187 (1962), 180-86.

Baxter, Richard, Aphorisms of Justification With Their Explication Annexed (1649).

Castaniza, Juan de, The Spiritual Combat; or, The Christian Pilgrim in His Spiri.ual Conflict and Conquest, trans. by Richard Lucas (1698) (also attributed to Lorenzo

Scupoli).

Clark, George, The Later Stuarts, 1660-1714, 2nd ed. (Oxford, 1955). (Vol. X of the Oxford History of England.)

1Each of the four parts concludes with its own Bibliography. Though these lists are by no means exhaustive they should give the reader the flavor for the kind of sources available to those who want to pursue a given area in greater detail. The sources that reappear in the subsequent

Bibliographies for parts II-IV will be in abbreviated form.

Bibliography Clarke, A., Memoirs of the Wesley Family. London (1823).

Coke, Thomas and Moore, H., Life of the Rev. John Wesley.

London (1792).

Edwards, M. L., Family Circle. A study of the Epworth Household. London (1949).

, Sons to Samuel. London (1961).

, The Astonishing Youth. London (1959).

Green, Richard, John Wesley. London (1882).

Green, V. H. H., The Young Mr. Wesley. London (1961).

, John Wesley. London (1964).

Harmon, Rebecca, Susanna, Mother of the Wesleys.

Nashville (1968).

Jackson, Thomas, The Life of the Rev. Charles Wesley, M.A.

London (1841).

Kempis, Thomas a, De Imitatione Christi. Translated by George Stanhope (1660-1728). New edition (1809).

Wesley's own translation entitled The Christian Pattern: or A Treatise of the Imitation of Christ. London

(1735).

Law, William, Works. New Forest (1893) or London (1702), 9 vols.

Léger, A., La Jeunesse de Wesley. Paris (1910).

Monk. R. C., John Wesley: His Puritan Heritage. London (1966).

Moore, Henry, The Life of the Rev. John Wesley. This includes the life of the Rev. Charles Wesley ... and memories of the Wesley Family. London (1824/25), 2 vols.

Newton, John A., Methodism and the Puritans. London (1964).

, Susanna Wesley and the Puritan Tradition in Methodism. London (1969).

Overton, J. H., John Wesley. London (1891).

Rupp, E. Gordon, Studies in the Making of the Protestant Tradition in the English Reformation. London (1948).

Schmidt, Martin, John Wesley, a Theological Biography.

Nashville (1962), Vol. 1.

Scougal, Henry, The Life of God in the Soul of Man, Winthrop H. Hudson, ed. Philadelphia (1948).

Bibliography

Southey, Robert, The Life of Wesley and the Rise of Methodism, 2 vols. London (1858). New edition (1925).

Stevenson, George, Memorials of the Wesley Family. London (1876).

Taylor, Jeremy, The Whole Works. London (1847-54). 10 vols.

Telford, John, The Life of John Wesley. London (1924).

Tuttle, Robert G., Jr., "The Influence of the Roman Catholic Mystics on John Wesley." An unpublished dissertation (University of Bristol, 1969).

Tyerman, Luke, The Life and Times of Samuel Wesley. London (1866).

, The Life and Times of John Wesley. London (1890).

Vulliamy, C. E., John Wesley. London (1931).

Wakefield, Gordon S., Puritan Devotion; Its Place in the Development of Christian Piety. London (1957).

Wesley, Charles, Journal, John Telford, ed. London (1909).

Wesley, Samuel, A Letter From a Country Divine to His Friend in London, Concerning the Education of Dissenters in Their Private Academies in Several Parts of This Nation;

Humbly Offered to the Consideration of the Grand Committee of Parliament for Religion, Now Sitting (1703).

, The Pious Communicant Rightly Prepared... . to Which Is Added a Short Discourse on Baptism (1698).

Wesley Historical Society, Publications and Proceedings (Burnley, England, 1896--).

Whitehead, John, The Life of Rev. John Wesley, M.A. This includes the life of the Rev. Charles Wesley. London

(1793-96), 2 vols.

Part Il His Early Ministry

Setting the Stage Imposture and fanaticism still hang upon the skirts of religion.

Weak minds were seduced by the delusions of a superstition, styled Methodism, raised upon the affectation of superior sanctity, and pretensions to divine illumination. Many thousands were infected with this enthusiasm by the endeavours of a few obscure Preachers such as Whitefield and the two Wesleys, who found means to lay the whole kingdom under contribution.

Smollett's History of England Tuesday, March 18, 1788 (9:00 p.m.), Gloucester, England.

Again, Mr. Wesley is alone, but speaks to you, the reader, as though you were in the room with him.

Weare presently in Gloucester, England. At 5:30 yesterday morning I left you in Bristol. I took to my chaise, which allinsist that I must use, rather than travel by horseback, as I am now in my eighty-fifth year. I am a little surprised by this for "the old murderer' obviously has more power over my horses than he does over me.' Just last year I went through four in a single week while I keep running the race that is set before me. Although I am now getting old, bless God, '''the grasshopper is' not 'a burden,'" and I am still as capable of traveling as ever.

At 8:30 I arrived at Newport in time for tea. After tea I conversed and prayed for nearly an hour with several who were there. Oh, let me redeem the time! How easily, in a few moments, to impress even the elegant when we strongly enforce the Word of God. I recall a few years ago that some rather careless people came to one of our meetings dancing and laughing as if to a theater; but their mood

1Works, Vol. IV, p. 378.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology quickly changed and in a few minutes were as serious as my subject—Death. "I believe, if they do not take great care, they will remember it—for a week!''3

By 9:30 I was back in my chaise, stopping only once for half an hour (to visit with some who needed a word from God) before arriving at Stroud at half past noon.

Between 12:30 and 5:00 I wrote letters, first to Adam Clarke and then to others, breaking only to eat enough to strengthen me (twenty years ago I weighed 122 Ibs. Today

I weigh not a pound more or less. I doubt whether such another instance is to be found in Great Britain), converse with a few of the Society, and pray.4 I mention Mr. Clarke by name since it will fall to him (and to others like him) to sustain the work of the Revival after I have been claimed by the One who has bought me at so great a price. Mr. Clarke is aman after my own heart. He retains a state of perfection

(which is impossible in and of itself) by growing in pure love. He preaches with force (sometimes too much so, which has more than a little affected his health). His diligence (though I must keep him from killing himself) in maintaining the Society is an example for all to follow. He cares both for those within our movement through the classes, bands, and Select Society, and for those without through the Strangers' or Friend Society (still another fruit of Methodism instituted wholly for the relief of the poor, sick, or friendless strangers).

'The letter addressed to Adam Clarke (Stroud, March 17, 1788) reads:

"Dear Adam,—I immediately answered the letter which brought the account of Sister Horn's case. I am afraid they will make wilful mistakes and carry your letters to the Isle of Wight.

Iam glad you have spread yourselves through the islands and that Mrs. de Saumarez has had the courage to join you. I believe she has very good uprightness of heart and (if she goes on) will be a burning and shining light. You have reason likewise to praise God on account of Alderney. There is a seed which shall not easily be rooted up. Drink largely when need be of warm lemonade and no bilious complaint will remain long.

Our Conference Deed provided for what Dr. Jersey desires. I desire the very same thing; nay! I observe Mr. Walker too. The sooner it is done the better. Send your translation to London. My kind love to Miss

Lempriere, Jenny Bisson (who owes me a letter), and the dear family at Mont Plaisir. Peace be with your spirits.—I am, dear Adam, Your

Setting the Stage

At 5:00 we had tea, during which time I again felt led to enforce the word of God and pray before preaching at 6:00 on 1 Peter 1:8-9 to so crowded an audience as I have not seen in Stroud for some years: '""Whom having not seen (in the flesh), ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory: Receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls." My own translation might read: "Receiving now already, salvation—from all sin into all holiness, which is the qualification for, the forerunner and pledge of eternal salvation.''5 I suppose a large part of this crowd had never heard this sort of preaching before. They now heard with inexpressible attention, and, I believe, not in vain. God opened, as it were, the windows of heaven, and sent a gracious rain upon His inheritance. I am in hopes a plentiful harvest will spring from the seed which was sown this hour.® In this I find the reason why the work of God does not gain ground in some of our circuits. Their preachers give up the Methodist testimony. Either they do not speak of perfection at all (the peculiar doctrine committed to our trust), or they speak of it only in general terms, without urging the believers to "go on unto perfection," and to expect it every moment. Wherever this is not earnestly done, the work of God does not prosper.'

After preaching, I met with the Society enforcing the necessity of Christian fellowship on all who desired either to awake or stay awake.® I make an honest attempt to visit all of our Societies each year and set apart three or four days to transcribe personally the London Society. This is a dull but necessary work which I have taken upon myself once a year for these fifty years.° No society can bear neglect.

I continue in my resolve to have regular societies or none. I recall an incident in Norwich where the bands were alaffectionate friend and brother. Direct to me at London, and your letter will come safe." Letters, Vol. VIII, pp. 46f.

SWesley, Notes on the New Testament, p. 874.

6Works, Vol. IV, p. 360.

SIbid:, .p.-222.

Ibid., p. 356. To transcribe' was to update the list by making a spiritual inventory of each society member.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology lowed to fall into pieces and no care at all was taken of the classes, so that it mattered little whether they met or not.

Going to church and observing the sacrament were forgotten. The people rambled here and there without direction or correction. So, I met the Society and read the Rules.1° I desired everyone to consider whether they were willing to walk by these Rules or not, in particular in meeting their class every week unless hindered by distance or sickness

(the only reasons for not meeting which I could allow), and being faithful at church and sacrament. "I desired those who were so minded to meet me the next night, and the rest to stay away. The next night we had far the greater part; on whom I strongly enforced the same thing. [The next morning] I spoke to every Leader, concerning every one under his care; and put out every person whom they could not recommend to me. After this was done, out of two hundred and four members, one hundred and seventy-four remained. And these points shall be carried, if only fifty remain in the society."11

After supper, I prayed the rest of the evening before retiring at 9:30, my usual hour.

This morning I was up again at 4:00 for prayers. I then wrote letters until 8:00, at which time I had tea and conversed before returning to my letters until nearly 11:00. At 11:00 I was back in my chaise, arriving at Painswick at noon in time to preach quite well before lunch. My text was the same as last Sunday: 'And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead" (Luke 16:31).

True repentance implies an entire change of heart, but a thousand apparitions (though extremely remarkable in some instances) cannot effect this. Only God can, applying

His word.'? I spoke more strongly than I am accustomed to doing, and I hope that my listeners were not sermon-proof.

Back in my chaise (reading), I arrived in Gloucester at 4:00 where nearly three quarters of a century ago my good

For a full description of these Rules see Works, Vol. VIII, pp.

138-168.

11Works, Vol. IV, P1396) Wesley, Notes on the New Testament, pp. 267f.

Setting the Stage

and dear friend George Whitefield was born. 13 It is difficult to believe that it has been eighteen years since I preached his funeral sermon. How mysterious the providence of God that has thrown our names together in both good and bad company. I remember, for example, reading Smollett's

History of England. He writes: "Imposture and fanaticism still hang upon the skirts of religion. Weak minds were seduced by the delusions of a superstition, styled

Methodism, raised upon the affectation of superior sanctity, and pretensions to divine illumination. Many thousands were infected with this enthusiasm by the endeavors of a few obscure Preachers, such as Whitefield, and the two Wesleys, who found means to lay the whole kingdom under contribution.'"'4

Poor Smollett! What must your readers think? ''Thus to transmit to all succeeding generations a whole heap of notorious falsehoods!''15 Let me put the matter straight.

There was no imposture and no fanaticism! 'Neither one nor the other had any share in the late revival of scriptural religion, which is no other than the love of God and man, gratitude to our Creator, and good-will to our fellow-creatures. Is this delusion and superstition? No, it is real wisdom; it is solid virtue. Does this fanaticism 'hang upon the skirts of religion?' Nay, it is the very essence of it.

Does the Doctor call this enthusiasm? Why? Because he knows nothing about it. Who told him that these 'obscure

Preachers' made 'pretensions to divine illumination?'

How often has that silly calumny been refuted to the satisfaction of all candid men? However, they 'found means to lay the whole kingdom under contribution.' So does this frontless man, blind and bold, stumble on without the least shadow of truth!''?° On another occasion the Scots Magazine (for May, 1739) was put in my hands. I was asked to read an essay entitled:

"Danger Attending Tumultuous Preaching; With Some 13George Whitefield (1714-1770) is discussed at some length later.

14Gmollett's History of England, Vol. XV, pp. 121-122 (quoted in Works, Vol. IV, p. 148).

18Works, Vol. IV, p. 148.

6Ibid., pp. 148f.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Queries Offered To and Some Observations Upon the Conduct of Mr. Whitefield." Toward the middle of this essay (and there were countless other similar essays) I read: ''Now I never heard that Mr. Whitefield, the Mr.

Westleys, or any other of these gifted Gentlemen, has as yet wrought, or pretended to a power of working miracles; though, very likely, they may soon arrive to that perfection of enthusiasm.' !7 One comment: If ever we reach "perfection," it will not be "of enthusiasm," lest you condemn the gospel writers to the man. Farther along in the same essay | read: "The Westleys, indeed, have not yet gone so far as Mr. Whitefield; but they are wilful transgressors against the authority of God and man, against the orders of church and state, by holding congregations in unlicensed places, and after an unauthorized manner; and everyone that gives them any countenance by attending them, or who does not discountenance their proceedings, if they be in proper authority, is in some measure a partaker with them in their sins, and answerable for the mischievous consequences of them.''?® Again one comment: Their charges are utterly false, as incorrect as their spelling of my name. Those who gave us "countenance" lost nothing but misery. Furthermore, bless God, the day would come when the "Mr.

Westleys" would not only go so far, but far surpass even Mr. Whitefield in preaching on perfection.

This afternoon I wrote another letter before tea. Following teaI spent a full hour in prayer before preaching at 6:00.

At 6:00 I preached from Matthew 7:24: 'Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them,

I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon arock." Realizing I had wealthy people to deal with, I attempted to stir them up. I showed them the various ways whereby the generality of good men (so called) usually build upon the sand. I recall the story of a late Marquis who reportedly received forty thousand pounds a year in England, and fifteen or twenty thousand in Ireland. And what has he now? Six foot of earth.

Scots Magazine, May 1739, pp. 206f.

Ibid.

Setting the Stage

A heap of dust is all remains of thee!

'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be.1° I then concluded the sermon by strongly showing what it is to build upon the rock Jesus Christ. How times have changed. Fifty years ago if I had preached here with such plainness I might have been stoned; but not a dog wagged his tongue.?° "It seems the scandal of the cross (such is the will of God) is ceased. High and low, rich and poor, flock together, and seem to devour the word. Many, I believe, were cut to the heart; for it was a day of the Lord's power."'?1 May they be not "almost persuaded." How sad that many half-awakened sinners will be wide awake when it is too late.??

I have just now finished supper, and before praying myself to bed, was considering how strangely the grain of mustard seed, planted about fifty years ago, has grown up.

The Revival has spread through all of Great Britain and Ireland; the Isle of Wight, and the Isle of Man; then to America, from the Leeward Islands through the whole continent, into Canada and Newfoundland. And the societies, in all these parts, walk by one rule, knowing religion is holy temper; and striving to worship God, not in form only, but likewise "in spirit and in truth."?° That story, however, is not yet to be told. First, there would be thirteen years of "preparation" (bless God, they were not in vain), including a pilgrimage to faith which might speak to the needs of your own life as well. Let me share it with you now.

19Works, Vol. IV, p. 340.

"bid... p< 039.

An Oxford Don As we would willingly suffer a little pain or forego some pleasure for others we really love, so if we sincerely love God we should readily do this for Him. For this reason one act of self-denial is more grateful to our Master than the performance of many lesser duties.

John Wesley For those who properly understand Christianity as a never-ending adventure (O how our very lives depend upon it), the race was on! From the time of my religious conversion in the spring of 1725, though the enemy seemed never far behind, the process had begun.!

During the summer months I prepared for ordination. I remember an interesting conversation which occurred toward the end of June. I have had several close friends these past years. John Griffith was sucha friend. We were attending the funeral of one with whom we were both acquainted, a young woman named Eliza Carter.2 Whenever the enemy confronted me openly I sought, as if by reflex, to make my own way sure by some act of religion. As John (or Robin as he was affectionately called) and I turned into one of the aisles of St. Mary's Church, Oxford, 'I asked him if he really thought himself my friend; and if he did, why he would not do me all the good he could. He began to protest; in which I cut him short by desiring him to oblige me in an instance which he could not deny to be in his own power—to let me have the pleasure of making him a whole

"Keep in mind that the '"enemy" referred to here is Wesley's fear of death.

Eliza Carter is actually the best choice of several possibilities for identifying this young woman. See Letters, Vol. I, p. 364.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Christian, to which I knew he was at least half persuaded already; that he could not do mea greater kindness, as both of us would be fully convinced when we came to follow that young woman.'

God, not counting my motive, effectively used that encounter, so much so that Robin turned very serious and kept something of that disposition ever since. Yet, my own way was still not clear.

I recall a comment from my Journal: '"Now, 'doing so much, and living so good a life,' I doubted not but I was a good Christian.''4

Yet, on the eve of my ordination I confided to my Diary what I then felt to be my most serious faults. Due to impossible standards (impossible apart from true faith in Christ),

I continually broke my self-imposed resolutions. This kept me at the brink of despair. Nonetheless, on September 26,

1725, I managed to preach my first sermon at South Leigh near Witney (a few miles from Oxford), this being the first

Sunday following my ordination. I remember the anticipation as I rode along through the Oxfordshire lanes toward the quaint little church with frescoed walls. From my text,

Matthew 6:33: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,'' I sought to enforce (however inadequately) the rule of God and his righteousness.° Using the additional words from 2 Kings 17:41: "These nations feared the Lorn, and served their graven images," to dramatize a "higher'' righteousness (which transcended that commonly so-called), I established that whoever seeks this first, will soon come to seek this only.®

Actually it was not a bad sermon (not altogether unuseful even today), although it was poorly delivered. Even then I worked by the light that I had. I was pleased that my brother Samuel made favorable judgment on the manu3Letters. Vol. I, p. 40.

'Journal, Vol. I, p. 467.

text mentioned here for this first sermon is not conclusive. Cf.

Schmidt, John Wesley: A Theological Biography, p. 93, N. 2; Journal, Vol.

I, pp. 59-60; Sermons, Vol. II, p. 496.

*Notes on the New Testament, p. 22.

An Oxford Don

script (though not without some objection).7 Yet I, who would call sinners to repentance, had little knowledge of genuine repentance myself, | realize that some of this may cause perplexity for the historians of our movement, so let me put my position simply and plainly to you now.

During the years 1725 to 1729 | had no foundation of repentance (at least not the sort that leads to faith, properly so-called, Repentance for those who were influencing me most (especially Taylor and 4 Kempis) was self-abasement, and continued self-condemnation, Consequently, selfrighteousness (after all, did not I, more than any of those around me seek to follow diligently the whole counsel of God?) was mixed with self-condemnation—thus ambivalence.

I was a student in transition——-from layman to clergyman; from Christ Church to Lincoln College, These next few years would be packed with intense struggle, and it was, in fact, this terrific struggle which drew me (at least in part) almost irresistibly to like-minded "Christians'" who apparently struggled much in the same way. These, however, instead of decreasing my anxiety, increased my frustration. My confusion would now be exaggerated even more by the squabble among these divines (particularly the mystics) as to whether the pursuit of holiness lay more in bodily austerity (after the Jesuits and Jansenists) or in the inward temper (after the Carmelites and Quietists).®

At any rate, after my ordination I was obsessed by the notion of moral imperfection and was continually dissatisfied with my efforts in the pursuit of the holy life.

Consequently, in order to do battle with idleness, boasting, lying, heat in arguing, levity, detraction, intemperate sleep, unclean thoughts, and the like, aceticism in the form of "rules" initially won out.'

The rules which now preface my first Diary are a "'collection" of some of Jeremy Taylor's noblest paragraphs.

Gee Letters, Vol, 1, p. 52, "The issue with regard to the Jansenists and the Quietists was similar to that depicted among, the Aristotelians and Platonists described in the Analysis, Part 1, "Green, John Wesley, p. 15,

John Wesley: His Life and Theology They are entitled "A General Rule in All Actions of Life" with two subtitles: "General Rules of Employing Time" and "General Rules as to Intention.'"" Under "General Rules of Employing Time" we read: 1) Begin and end every day with God, and sleep not immoderately. 2) Be diligent in your calling. 3) Employ all spare hours in religion; as able. 4) Make all holidays, holy days. 5) Avoid drunkards and busybodies. 6) Avoid curiosity and all useless employments and knowledge. 7) Examine yourself every night. 8) Never on any account pass a day without setting aside at least an hour for devotion. 9) Avoid all manner of passion. Under ''General Rules as to Intention'"' we read: 1) In every action reflect on your own end. 2) Begin every action in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. 3) Begin every important work with prayer. 4) Do not leave off a duty because you are tempted

Init For the next two years self-denial became the all in all. A memorandum from my Diary reads: "As we would willingly suffer a little pain or forego some pleasure for others we really love, so if we sincerely love God we should readily do this for Him. For this reason one act of selfdenial is more grateful to our Master than the performance of many lesser duties." Early rising, endless resolutions, self-examination, fasting, ejaculatory prayers, and many other mystical means of purging the soul now became my common practice, so much so, as hard as I tried I could not, without some periodic remorse (those transient fits of repentance), enjoy even the most innocent pleasures.

So, I stayed on in Christ Church, anticipating my election to a Fellowship at Lincoln College in the spring. Following the advice of those who directed my progress, I elaborated even more on my rules. An inquisition was held every Saturday night. Like a country boy taking his weekly bath, I wanted to be "clean'' on Sunday morning.

God and I banded together that He might more effectively root out those things that were separating me from Him and those around me. So, I would inquire: have I loved

10Journal, Vol. I, p. 48.

An Oxford Don

women or company more than God? and resolve: never to let sleep hinder me from going to prayers. Inquire: have | taken God's name in vain? Resolve: never to mention it but in religion. Inquire: irreverent behaviour at church? Resolve: never to laugh or talk idly there. Inquire: indevotion? Resolve: prayer and humility. Inquire: pride? Resolve: consider death, the Scriptures. Inquire: idleness?

Resolve: six hours every day. Inquire: intemperate sleep?

Resolve: at five. Inquire: unclean thoughts? Resolve: God's omnipresence. *?

Between September 1725 and March 1726 I took several trips into the Cotswolds to visit my friends, though I did not lodge with them (but hired a room) until the following year. Just after Christmas Sally married the local schoolmaster. I remember writing in my Diary: 'May God give her the happiness she deserves." Our relationship did not end, however. Although I worried that I had loved women more than God, Sally put matters into perspective during our tender, sentimental moments; though void of passion.

My sister Hetty chided that I 'loved women for being women." Perhaps she was right.

On March 27, 1726, I was elected Fellow of Lincoln College, a position I maintained until my marriage a quarter of a century later. Although some thought me too serious about religious discipline, this opposition had been overruled by a word from my brother Samuel. !* My Fellowship introduced me to a cultured and congenial society which came somewhat into conflict with the intent of my resolutions. At the same time, the immensely spiritual, though delightful atmosphere, of the Cotswold scene came as close as anything I am aware of to blending the religious and the social so that I might (had not the demands of anation gone mad with irreligion pressed so heavily upon me) have become for the rest of my days a happy, though useful,

Oxford Don or even a country parson.

MJournal, Vol. I, p. 52.

12See Letters, Vol. I, p. 27. John expresses appreciation to Samuel for his assistance in securing the Fellowship.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Although I was small (not much over five feet) and too frail for vigorous athletics, I did manage to hold my own reasonably well on the tennis court. I also enjoyed pulling an oar on the river, swimming, riding, and hunting. I frequently walked long distances, sometimes the entire route between Oxford and Epworth, in order to save money.

Although I had changed my way of life considerably, I had not (as some might suppose) become an austere, prematurely developed, world-denying pharisee. I was eager and enthusiastic, gay without being frivolous. I remember noting in my Diary the steps of anew dance: "A grip anda gink with the other foot .

. walk a little faster .

. First salute her, then bow, and hand her to a chair.''13

Furthermore, I liked the friendly climate at Lincoln College. I was happy, my parents were proud; my father kept addressing me as "Dear Mr. Fellow Elect of Lincoln.''14 I was finally in a position to reduce my debt. I was not wealthy but the Fellowship meant that I shared in the common revenues of the college and for those in residence

(which was not required) there were additional provisions including rooms, a share in the common table, obit and gaudy money, and even some allowances for the laundress and barber, and access to the buttery and kitchen.15

Since the Fellows (there were eleven in all) did not have to maintain residence (at least not until 1729 when some restrictions were laid upon Junior Fellows), I was entitled to a share in the common revenues which occurred annually whether in residence or not. This gave me the freedom to ask fora leave of absence which I was granted on April 9.

Since my appointment was attached to a region (as most Fellowships were), I felt it appropriate to spend some time in the county that had sponsored my election—

Green, The Young Mr. Wesley, p. 101. This was in cipher, acommon practice Wesley used extensively along with shorthand. See Journal,

Voli pp. 71£:

"Tyerman, Life and Times, p. 399. Telford, Life of John Wesley, p. 43.

These include a letter from Samuel to John which is full of both pride and self-pity.

"Obit and gaudy money" refers to that money to be used for necessities (obit) and recreation (gaudy).

An Oxford Don

Lincolnshire. I walked to Epworth, arriving on April 23.

I was pleased to find my family well (though my father had grown old). The next day, being Sunday, I read prayers for my father twice. The summer months were spent in transcribing my father's work for a book on Job, serving as curate at Wroot, visiting with my mother, swimming, shooting (I once bagged three plovers), and reading. It might have been a totally pleasant experience but for my father, who was on occasion unrelenting.

I remember evenings spent with a young Epworth woman, Kitty Hargreaves. I might easily have fallen in love except for my father who, suspecting romance, attempted to frustrate our meeting. Once he actually sent her away. I was so unnerved that I rather impulsively vowed never to touch her hand again.

Another incident of the summer also stands out. My sister Hetty was bright, cultured, and sensitive, but a bit rebellious. She fell in love with a young lawyer who once kept her away from the rectory an entire night. My father was inconceivably exasperated with her. No one dare come to Hetty's defense. I resorted to preaching a sermon on the unconditional duty of love in order to demonstrate that some tenderness was still due her, but my father was so offended that he appealed to a canon of the Established

Church which forbade a doctrine that had previously been preached to be attacked in the same or adjoining church.

When my brother Charles informed me that my father, holding to his strong High Church principle, came near to filing official charges, I went to him and promised never to contradict him again. We both shed tears and he replied that he had always known that! ''was good at bottom.'' My penance was to transcribe his book on Job several days running. Hetty's was not nearly so easy. She was forced to marry a drunken plumber and her marvelous spirit was effectually crushed. She and my father were never fully reconciled. May God be more merciful to him than my father was to those given into his care.*®

6Letters, Vol. I, p. 39. John describes the incident in a letter to his brother Samuel.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology On September 21, 1726, I returned to Oxford in order to prepare for my statutory sermon to be delivered at St.

Michael's on September 29. Life at Lincoln College promised to be leisurely, peaceful, and with few teaching demands in a comparatively scholarly and gentlemanly society. I desired to remain. On November 7, although I was not to receive the M.A. degree until February, 1727, I was elected by my colleagues to responsibilities as class moderator and Claviger along with tutorials in Greek. 1!" Second only to religion were serious studies. Until the completion of my M.A., Monday and Tuesday were given to Greek and Roman classics; Wednesday to Logic and Ethics; Thursday to Hebrew and Arabic; Friday to Metaphysics and Natural

Philosophy; Saturday to Rhetoric and Poetry, including my own efforts; and Sunday to Theology. 18

During the Christmas holidays, 1726, I again went to the Cotswolds. Sally, now married a year and very much in love with her husband, was still my spiritual guide.

Though much of our time was spent entertaining ourselves, Sally and I managed to discuss spiritual matters at great length. I remember about this time transcribing for her Fénelon's Discourse on Simplicity. We both admired it greatly. Simplicity for me, as with Fénelon, came to mean

"that grace which frees the soul from all unnecessary reflections upon itself.''1? One's love toward God must be simple and pure. Fénelon's understanding of love, defined as "the love of God and man filling the heart and governing the life," came to represent true religion for me.2°

It should also be mentioned that soon after this I first encountered William Law's Christian Perfection. Law completed the celebrated triumvirate (along with Taylor and a Kempis) which had such a powerful impact on the early stages of my doctrine of perfection.

Then, on January 10, 1727, Robin Griffith died. The 1""Claviger" is a term for warden or custodian and originally refers to the "keeper of the keys."

Telford, Life of John Wesley, p. 49; cf. Journal, Vol. I, pp. 65 and 66 for a list of the books read during this time. io Letters, Vol. Ninpaas:

°Works, Vol. VII, p. 162 (a sermon, On Former Times).

An Oxford Don

enemy was back at my throat. In preparing Robin's funeral sermon, I sought to detach myself of all sentiment and personal feeling. Had I done otherwise, I would have revealed to all my nagging fear of death. As such a lack of faith would have been comfort to none (save the enemy), I chose what I felt to be the lesser of two evils: rather than confess my doubts I hid behind a rather odd interpretation of 2 Samuel 12:23: "But now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? can I bring him back again? I shall go to him (so I had hope), but he shall not return to me." In concise, unpretentious sentences, I attempted to repress feeling by emphasizing the utter uselessness of mourning and grief. I commented: "Grief, in general, is the parent of so much evil and the occasion of so little good to mankind, that it may be justly wondered how it found a place in our nature." Supposing that the enemy was in fact a friend (vain words) I stated further: "Be it my comfort

. that I shall soon awake from this tedious dream of life.'"' I then exhorted my listeners not to weep for the dead but for the living, '"who still want that happiness.''?!

I did not leave it there, however.

Isought to comfort with these words from 1 Thessalonians 4:14: 'For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him." (Bless God for ointment soothing to those smarting wounds.) Even as | spoke, however, I feared that these words were not meant for me. As I expressed soon afterward in a letter to my mother: "I never gave more reason to suspect my doctrine did not agree with my practice; for a sickness and pain in 21This sermon appears in Works, Vol. VIL, pp. 63-68. Although Wesley's pre-1738 sermons were brilliantly calculated to convince the sinner and stimulate the believer, they do not present the ''way of salvation."

Perhaps this can be seen most clearly in the fact that the concept of a personal justifying faith does not even remotely exist in any of the eight extant sermons from this period, nor in fact does the term "faith" appear in the evangelical sense. In fact, the word "faith" itself occurs less thana dozen times in all eight sermons (outside the few quotations from Scripture, which were used incidentally to faith). For anyone who enters the study of John Wesley convinced that Wesley was more or less an evangelical Christian from 1725 on (as I did), itis an enormous shock to see the vast difference in Wesley's sermons before and after Aldersgate. The full significance of this will become more apparent later on.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology my stomach, attended with a violent looseness, which seized me the day he was buried, altered me so much in three days, and made me look so pale and thin, that those who saw me could not but observe it.''?

On February 14, 1727 I received my master's degree. I gained considerable reputation by my disputation delivering statutory lectures in natural philosophy on the soul of animals; in philosophy on Julius Caesar; and in theology on the love of God.

I had seemingly matured physically, intellectually, and socially, but emotionally and spiritually I was still very much in process. Robin's death had an unnerving effect.

So much so that the intellectual and social demands became too much for me. They took more from me than I could give in return. I decided to busy myself. Rising an hour earlier and going to company an hour later helped some, but I was still not satisfied.

I found myself being drawn into mysticism. The mystics' pursuit of holiness appealed to my innate sense of morality, but their love of contemplation aroused my natural inclination for solitude.

With Fenelon fresh upon my mind I wrote to my mother:

"And I am so little at present in love with even company, the most elegant entertainment next to books, that unless they have a peculiar turn of thought I am much better pleased without them. I think 'tis the settled temper of my soul that I should prefer, at least for some time, such a retirement as would seclude me from all the world to the station I am now in.''?3

I began reading more extensively among the mystics, mostly (although not exclusively, as they were being recommended by several friends as well) those recommended by my mother. Still plagued by doubt, I plunged deeper and deeper into the mystical writings. I became convinced that I had to find some environment where I, at least for a time, could put mysticism to the test without interruption.

2Letters, Vol. I, p. 43, where John discusses with his mother the funeral at Broadway.

3Letters, Vol. I, p. 42.

My Father's Curate Although it is always consistent with reason, reason cannot produce faith in the scriptural sense of the word. Faith, according to Scripture, is 'an evidence" or conviction, "'of things not seen." It is a divine evidence, bringing a full conviction of an invisible eternal world. It is true, there was a kind of shadowy persuasion of this, even among the wiser heathens;

. but this was little more than faint conjecture: it was far from a firm conviction; which reason, in its highest state of improvement, could never produce in any child of man.

John Wesley In August, 1727, anticipating another leave of absence from the college (granted on November 6, and subsequently on May 6 and November 6 of the following year),

I returned to Epworth (by way of London, visiting my brother Samuel) in order to assume the curacy of my father's second living in Wroot. Apart from brief trips to the Cotswold villages of Broadway, Buckland, and Stanton, and several journeys to London (to visit Samuel) and to Oxford (on business and to visit Charles), I remained in Wroot until November, 1729.1

I wanted a remote setting. I had previously applied for the headmastership of a school in Skipton, an isolated little market town in Yorkshire. The endowment was good and I should have been out of debt within a year. Yet I liked most of all its "frightful description." Even today, "the town lies ina little vale, so pent up between two hills that it is scarce accessible on any side; so that you could expect little com1Charles had left Westminster for Christ Church in 1726.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology pany from without and within there was none at all.""? I was disappointed when that position passed to someone else.

There might have been the possible alternative of a college living, but this was highly unlikely since I was still a Junior Fellow, not long in Orders. Besides, I was not ready for a university parish. I was small in stature and relatively weak. Although later I would "readily trace the wisdom of Providence in allotting me these imperfections" (under the merciful guidance of God, good would be extracted from evil), I could not yet happily accept the rather odious

Common Room smiles prompted by my seriousness toward religion.

So, in August, 1727, if I could not have Skipton, I accepted what] believed to be the next best thing. I yielded to the pressing desires of my father (who was increasingly infirm) and took up residence at Wroot, four-and-a-halfmiles west of Epworth. Nearly as remote as Skipton, it was well-suited for my intentions.

The road between Epworth and Wroot was rough and unpredictable at best (being frequently flooded), making it difficult to travel by foot or on horseback. The 'surest"" way was by boat to Scawsit Bridge, then walking across the Common to Epworth. I recall that my father, upon my arrival, was still ill due to a soaking contracted during such a crossing by the water washing over the sides of the boat.

I was pleased to relieve him from so unpleasant a passage, although the next year he narrowly escaped drowning while crossing in a strong wind.

My parents, who had lived at Wroot since 1725, now had an opportunity to return to the rectory at Epworth where they remained until 1735 (except for occasional exchanges with me during the period now under consideration). For all practical purposes Wroot was mine. This proved to be my first and last experience as a parish clergyman. Commonly known as "Wroot-out-of-England," it had less than three hundred inhabitants whom Hetty rather unsympathetically described as "asses dull on dung hills born." My

2Letters, Vol. I, p. 43.

My Father's Curate

father had made some progress with these good people, but precious little. He had managed to raise them from a level of ignorance and brutality to a level of depressing dullness, but certainly no higher.

I settled into my routine quickly with few interruptions.

I performed my duties with regularity and order. I rose early for prayer, and spent most mornings either reading, sermon writing, sorting my father's papers, looking up references, or drawing up a list of subscribers to his work on Job. The evenings I frequently spent with my mother, discussing my friends (especially my relationship with women), plotting my ongoing spiritual struggle, or reading aloud an occasional novel or more serious work. On Sunday I usually read prayers at Wroot, but also preached at Flixborough and Burton.

During the long summer months I had some time for working in the garden, gathering flowers, as well as some shooting and swimming, but most of my efforts were spent in sorting out my inner spiritual life. Much of this centered around my mother. We exchanged devotional tracts and read to each other from the mystical authors. I read a great deal from the works of the Cambridge Platonist, John

Norris, who had come under the influence of Nicholas Malebranche.? George Herbert, Anton Horneck, and Dr.

Heylyn were also favorites of mine during this time, all three of them having flirted with mysticism in one form or another.

About this time I first encountered William Law's second treatise, A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life.

Although this served to reinforce Taylor, a Kempis, and his earlier work, On Christian Perfection, and brightened the fire of my spiritual ambition, I was drawn even more to the mystical works. I carefully read The Holy Life of Monsieur de

De Renty, a wealthy French marquis, under the 3Wesley later included Malebranche's Search for Truth in several courses for study. Letters, Vol. IV, p. 249; cf. Letters, Vol. III, p. 163; Vol.

V, p. 110; Vol. VII, p. 228.

4Wesley later abridged this work and circulated it among the Societies. It is entitled Extract of the Life of M. de Renty, first published independently in 1741.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology influence of Vincent de Paul gave away most of what he had and went to the bread lines of Paris in order to feed the hungry. I studied this great and good man closely. I especially liked his attitude toward death. I remember his comment regarding the death of his beloved wife: 'Were it not for common decency, I could have danced at her funeral."' Still plagued by fear and doubt, de Renty's ""experimental verity" (an assurance of God's presence) and his imperviousness to death, kept (at least for a while) the enemy on a leash. I recall also reading to my mother Fontenelle's New Dialogues of the Dead and Taylor's The Rule and Exercises of Holy Dying which gave some assistance; but most comfort came from the mystics.

I found myself becoming morbidly individualistic. The more I read, the more I wanted to pass my time solely in the company of the mystical authors. It was during this experimental period that I "perfected" the practice of ejaculatory prayers. The use of devout ejaculations was common among the eighteenth-century English mystics. In fact, some mystics frequently abandoned all forms of prayer except for these periodical ejaculations. Since their entire lives were spent in the attitude of prayer, they saw no real need for formal prayers. I remember writing at the foot of my Diary: 'No hourly prayer like ejaculations.'"'> I had been using this form of prayer for some time. In all my examination work, for example, whether for ordination, or degree, or fellowship, I used it freely, sometimes profusely.° Although the practice dwindled during the earliest years after my return to Oxford, "as the Holy Club became more and more highly organized, it revived in greater force than ever.''" In January, 1734, I began to mark the regularity of these prayers with the letter "e" at the beginning of every hour followed by a corresponding number (5, 6, or 7) indicating the length of the prayer. It is safe to say that I 'Diary, December 9, 1735 (see Journal, Vol. 1, p. 127). The first Oxford

Diary proves that Wesley adopted the habit of using these prayers long before the formation of the Holy Club. These were emphatic prayers, lasting usually from five to eight minutes.

Journal, Vol. I, p2127; Ibid.

My Father's Curate

esteemed ejaculatory prayer more than any other type of prayer. I used it extensively and was reluctant to give it up.

Although the practice dwindled again after my return from Georgia, I included these mystical prayers in my Scheme of Self-Examination along with a strong exhortation toward love and simplicity.® This kind of prayer (emanating from a type of selfexamination that was an obsession with me now) was alla part of a larger form of mysticism. It was an interesting

(though I now realize deceptive) kind of classical mysticism involving five stages in one's approach to God. Since these stages were to become so much a part of my "in process,"' let me describe them to you.

The first stage, called awakening, is a moral or ethical awakening such as I had experienced in the spring of 1725, just three years earlier. The second stage, called purgation, involved purging the flesh so that it required little or nothing of the spirit. This was my constant struggle. I sought to condition my body to function without much sleep or food so that, little by little, it required less and less of the spirit.

The third stage, called illumination, involved the witness of God's Spirit. Just fora moment, the Holy Spirit would bear witness with my spirit that I was a child of God. These

"sensible comforts," however, were precious few. The fourth stage was called the dark night of the soul. Here, according to the mystic, God withdrew even the occasional comfort forcing the mystic to come to Him by naked faith.

This | did not fully comprehend since such blind trust seemed to me contrary to the illusive assurance I had always believed to be a part of saving faith. The fifth stage, called union with God, involved a constant awareness of God's presence in the world and in the life of the believer.

This I wanted (and still do, but alas, it is not meant to be) with all my heart!

I still had no understanding of justification by faith in the personal sense. I was well on my way to being utterly duped by the self-saving delusion of mystical theology.

Taylor,'a Kempis, Law, and the mystics (though not tor the 8Works, Vol. XI, p. 521.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology same reasons) rarely used the word faith," and when they did, it was far from evangelical. Faith, on the one hand (for Taylor, 4 Kempis, and Law), was a lifeless "ascent to any truth upon rational grounds"; and on the other (for the mystics) a blind obedience to God involving the dark night of the soul.® Before I could respond by faith in the evangelical sense, both these philosophies had to be purged away. Reason was the first to go. Up to now reason had maintained the upper hand in my search for real scriptural assurance, but this was about to change. In a sermon entitled The Case of Reason Impartially Considered, written many years later, I sought to demonstrate (and I think adequately for candid men) the complete inability of reason to produce faith. 1° I stated: "Although it is always consistent with reason, yet reason cannot produce faith in the scriptural sense of the word. Faith, according to Scripture, is 'an evidence,' or conviction, 'of things not seen.' It is a divine evidence, bringing a full conviction of an invisible eternal world. It is true, there was a kind of shadowy persuasion of this, even among the wiser Heathens ..

. but this was little more than faint conjecture: It was far from a firm conviction; which reason, in its highest state of improvement, could never produce in any child of man."

To use some of the same words I cited earlier: "Many years ago (during my stay at Wroot) I found the truth of this by sad experience. After carefully heaping up the strongest arguments which I could find, either in ancient or modern authors, for the very being of a God, and (which is nearly connected with it) the existence of an invisible world, I have wandered up and down, musing with myself: 'What, if all these things which I see around me, this earth and heaven, this universal frame, has existed from eternity?'

What, if 'the generation of men be exactly parallel with the generation of leaves?' if the earth drops its successive inhabitants, just as the tree drops its leaves? What, if that °Cf. Letters, Vol. I, p. 20 and Letters, Vol. II, p. 264. It is important to remember that William Law was not yet into his more mystical phase.

10Works, Vol. VI, pp. 350f.

My Father's Curate

saying of a great man be really true,— Death is nothing, and nothing is after death?

How am I sure that this is not the case; that I have not followed cunningly devised fables?—and I have pursued the thought, till there was no spirit in me, and I was ready to choose strangling rather than life.

"But in a point of so unspeakable importance, do not depend upon the word of another; but retire for a while from the busy world, and make the experiment yourself.'"11 In fact, I had done just that, but the victory was not yet won.

still had no understanding of the Scripture notion of faith as the "conviction of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." So, I plunged even deeper into mysticism, still plowing with their own wicked

"heifer." Mystic faith (swallowed and digested so deceptively by the dark. night of the soul) was no better than

"rational" faith. Yet, I was to pursue it (as if to the end of the earth) for another ten years. Even then! marveled at my ineffectiveness. My soul had no life. My sermons were fruitless. Let me illustrate.

Although I preached many sermons during this period (including those on Holy Communion, election, and reprobation), | remember one in particular, a sermon entitled, On Corrupting the Word of God.1? 1 emphasized the need for sincerity in preaching the Word of God. One must never adulterate or intermingle the gospel with one's own opinions or traditions. I criticized those who add to the gospel by blending it with human inventions. Although I later cited the '"mystic foxes" (the chief offenders at this very point) for spoiling the Word of God with a "new gospel," not yet understanding the simple gospel of justification by faith myself, there was no exhortation to faith in Christ nor any criticism of the mystic writers.

On July 27, 1728, I journeyed to Oxford by way of London. On September 22, I was again ordained by Dr. Potter, then bishop of Oxford who had also been a Fellow of "Works, Vol. VI, pp. 355f.

12Works, Vol. VII, pp. 468-473.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Lincoln, this time to Priest's Orders. The examining chaplain, Dr. Hayward (who subscribed to my father's book on Job and later contributed to the funds of the Holy Club), left an indelible impression upon me by stating: 'Do you know what you are about? You are bidding defiance to all mankind. He that would live as a Christian priest ought to know that, whether his hand be against every man or no, he must expect every man's hand should be against Nite As I returned to Wroot I was not certain that my experiment was a success. I still felt unprepared (in spite of the mystic advice) to receive happily the abuse which the priesthood would undoubtedly bring. Further complicating matters were the disputes with my father. I was sad, and chided myself for such an unworthy emotion.

Early in 1729, a serious man, Mr. Hoole, rector of Haxey, and my father's friend and nearest neighbor, said to me:

"Sir, you wish to serve God and go to heaven? Remember that you cannot serve him alone. You must therefore find companions or make them; the Bible knows nothing of solitary religion.''** Accordingly I began to increase my excursions into the Cotswolds.!5 Then on June 16, 1729, I journeyed once again to Oxford and observed for the first time the little society begun by my brother the previous month.*® I met with them for about two months before returning to Wroot. In August I was surprised by the fact that I was acquiring a new taste for company. Wroot was losing its hold. Toward the end of September I remember still another dispute with my father. I was weary of my experiment. My Diary is filled with the ejaculations: xveve ckenoov(Lord, have mercy!) and xvoete RorPeu(Lord, help me).

; On October 21, 1729, I received a letter from Dr. Morley informing me that the College had decided that the Junior

13See Green, The Young Mr. Wesley, p. 119 (italics mine).

4Although the identification of this 'serious man" is not certain, Curnock argues convincingly for Mr. Hoole. See Journal, Vol. 1, p. 469.

The Diaries which have been lost for most of this period are resumed on April 30, 1729.

Holy Club, see chapter 10.

My Father's Curate PG, Fellows who had been nominated to the moderatorships were now expected to fulfill their offices in person. Surely this was answer to prayer. On November 22, I happily returned to Oxford where I was not to receive another leave of absence for some years.

As I conclude this part of my story I do not want to give the impression that the time spent at Wroot was totally fruitless.

was now convinced, for example, that the effects of our parent sin extended not only to the heart, but to the intellect as well, inhibiting one's reason from leading him to faith. Yet there was still another victory to be won.

Interestingly enough parts of the second battle had already been waged. Although I still did not understand the principle of faith, sinking even deeper into mysticism during the days to follow, I was now convinced that my experiment in mystic solitude (at least as such) was a failure.

The Holy Club I went to the weekly sacrament, and persuaded two or three young students to accompany me, and to observe the method of study prescribed by the statutes of the university. This gained me the harmless name of Methodist. In fase a year (after this) my brother left his curacy at Epworth, and came to our assistance.

Charles Wesley I remember a feeling of near exhilaration as I saw the spires of Oxford. I must have seen them a hundred times before, but somehow this was different. As I turned my horse (which I had purchased the previous summer) into the lane at Lincoln College I felt almost as if I was returning home, not leaving it. I have experienced a few such moments since, but this still stands out in my mind. It was

November 22, 1729. I was now to act as tutor to the undergraduates.

Although my experiment at Wroot no doubt heightened the contrast, I was back into society. | immediately became an active member of the Senior Common Room where I frequently gathered with the Fellows, their guests, and the gentlemen commoners after dinner. Perhaps my colleagues, realizing the Junior Fellows now had to remain in residence, determined to make the best of me. In spite of the fact that many of these later lost their resolve and chose to remain apart, initially, life was at least congenial.

While I was learning to enjoy once again some of the normal recreations—dancing, attending an occasional concert or play, visiting London and the Cotswolds—I was also redoubling my efforts to purge away all ''superfluities."" I had been concerned for Charles when he first

John Wesley: His Life and Theology came up from Westminster. Then, while I was at Wroot, he had fairly well established himself at Christ Church. He had been diligent enough in his studies (no doubt remembering the advice of our brother Samuel, his former tutor) and led a regular, harmless life; but when I pressed him about religion, he would reply, '""What, would you have me to be a saint all at once?"'!

Charles wanted to become a proper gentleman. He feared being 'dull as a dog and twice as broke.'" He would sit by a fireless grate in his Oxford rooms writing to himself somewhat dolefully:

... 'Hs in the power of a few Epworth or Wroot guineas and clothes to give things the favorable turn and make a gentleman of me. Come money then and quickly to rescue me from my melancholy maxim ''ex nihilo nihil fit''.?

Then, during the previous January, Charles experienced what he termed his 'reformation' as his religious life began to take a definite turn. I have a letter he wrote to me at Wroot, dated January, 1729: "I verily think I shall never quarrel with you again 'til I do again with my Religion, and that I may never do That I am not ashamed to desire your prayers.''? I remember praying instantly: "If this be true, let him not return as a dog to his vomit."

Charles was himself uncertain as to exactly when he first awoke out of his lethargy. I recall my mother (upon my return to Wroot in 1727) expressing some concern regarding his apparent idleness, and she corresponded with him frequently, no doubt with some consequence. Yet, there were additional factors at work effecting this change.

By 1729 Charles had become increasingly concerned with the state of religion at Oxford. Apart from general apathy, Arianism and Deism had crept in, attracting enough attention to alarm the university officials. Upon one of my visits I noted with some interest that several of these officials were disturbed that infidelity had become so fashionable, many of the students who had thus far reGreen,

The Young Mr. Wesley, p. 145.

Ibid., p. 146.

mained nominal in their religious observances had now abandoned them altogether. The result was that Dr. Butler, the vice-chancellor, under some pressure, issued a circular letter to be posted in the majority of the college halls urging college tutors to inform their pupils of their Christian duty by "explaining to them the articles of religion which they professed, and are often called upon to subscribe," and by "recommending to them the frequent and careful reading of the Scriptures, and such other books that may serve more effectually to promote Christianity, sound principles and orthodox faith.'"4

I was so encouraged by word of this notice that I asked Charles to send me a copy immediately. He quickly obliged, also expressing alarm that the Dean of Christ

Church (no doubt resisting the impulse of outside authority, even from the vice-chancellor himself) had refused to display it in Christ Church Hall. As Providence would have it, the Dean's obstinance prompted Charles (in like manner) to follow the notice's directives to the letter. It is against this background that Charles wrote later: 'I went to the weekly sacrament, and persuaded two or three students to accompany me, and to observe the method of study prescribed by the statutes of the university. This gained me the harmless name of Methodist. In half a year

(after this) my brother left his curacy at Epworth, and came to our assistance.''® So, in May, Charles joined with William Morgan and Francis Gore (both of Christ Church) in order to establish the study habits which he had once found so difficult to sustain and which Mr. Morgan and Mr. Gore had found unpalatable.* Then in November I took the advice of my

"serious friend,'" Dr. Hoole, against solitary religion and quickly joined these young men who had united together.

In fact, being somewhat more mature and stronger-willed 4Ibid., pp. 147f.

SIbid., p. 148.

'Wesley later identifies Robert Kirkham, not Francis Gore, as the third student along with Charles and Morgan, but this is surely an error since Kirkham did not join the Holy Club until February, 1730. Cf.

Green, The Young Mr. Wesley, p. 155 and n. 1.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology (Charles lacked stability and was constantly plagued by ill health), I soon emerged as the leader of our "'little company," serving as tutor both to my brother and his friends.

The "Holy Club," as it was commonly called, began by concentrating only on the study of the Greek New Testament. Under my direction, however, it soon progressed to include other exercises as well. My devotional life, for example (due to my experiment at Wroot), had already established a pattern which adapted easily to the objectives of my brother's society. In turn, I found the influence of the society benefited me. On weekdays I rose at an increasingly early hour (usually between 5:00 and 6:00), went to prayer, and read my Greek New Testament along with some devotional work. Weighing the seriousness of my vocation, I used a Collect at 9:00 in the morning, at noon, and at 3:00 in the afternoon, interspersed with fervent ejaculations every hour. My Diary began to portray much more consistently the fruits of regularity; my resolutions seemed to have more bite.

We made steady progress. In February, 1730, we were joined by Robert Kirkham, of Merton College, who had taken the fancy (I would to God the whole of mankind would follow his example), "that he would lose no more time or waste no more money.'"" Somewhat to my surprise he "'left off tea, struck off his drinking acquaintance to a man, gave the hours above specified to Greek Testament and Hugo Grotius, and spent the evenings either by himself or with my brother and me."'7

Although my responsibilities with the members of the Holy Club could properly be termed tutorials (I read with them Milton, Lucas, Norris, Bonnel, de Renty, and the Second Spira), I still had no private pupils.8 So, on February

"Letters, Vol. I, pp. 48f.

The Young Mr. Wesley, p. 131, describes the works of these authors in some detail. Cf. p. 196n. on the Second Spira. The full title was

The Second Spira, being a Fearful Example of an Atheist, who had apostated from the Christian religion, and died in despair at Westminster, December 8,

1692. This was one of John's favorites. The victim, lamenting his faithlessness, cries out: "Oh that I was to broil upon that fire for a thousand

The Holy Club

27, 1730, 1 accepted a temporary curacy at Pyrton near Wallingford, eight miles from Oxford. The salary was thirty pounds a year which prevented me from having to sell my horse. Then in June, the rector, Dr. Morley (a great and good man), allotted eieven men into my care. Since these were younger men (just entering Oxford), I felt a responsibility beyond the obligations of a tutorial nature.

Although none were coaxed into the Holy Club, I regularly invited them to breakfast and prayers. None had any doubt as to what I expected of them concerning either academic or religious observances. Weekdays I met with them at 10:00 in the morning and then at 2:00 or 5:00 in the afternoon, and on Sunday I frequently saw them for religious instruction. ?

Up until now the Holy Club had gone relatively unnoticed. As our activities increased, however, this changed. During the summer of 1730, William Morgan assumed responsibility for various works of charity. By the end of the summer we not only studied the Scriptures, took weekly communion, and observed every order of the Church, but also took time from sleep and amusements for religious exercises: to attend the sick and dying, the poor and illiterate, to conduct prayer meetings (a practice resumed later in the Revival), and to visit the prisons. The latter was especially significant.

The prisons had long been a problem. The keepers were both corrupt and lewd. The new prisoners were frequently abused by the older prisoners. Drunkenness, swearing, and gambling were epidemic. Finally, these conditions brought about a parliamentary committee in 1729. The enthusiasm of young Mr. James Oglethorpe, first for improving the lot of poor debtors (a project of particular interest to me as a result of my father's imprisonment some years earlier), and then for conditions on the whole, years, to purchase the favor of God, and be reconciled to him again. But it is a fruitless wish! Millions and millions of years will bring me no nearer to the end of my tortures than one poor hour." His last words were, "Oh the insufferable pangs of hell and damnation." Wesley evidently thought this was suitable material for his young friends.

TIbid., p. 132, gives a rather complete list of the books read by both Wesley and his students during this period.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology secured for him a seat on this committee which exposed a horrid story of laxity and corruption. 1°] remember reading their initial report while still at Wroot and a later report the previous May. On August 24, 1730, Charles and I accompanied Mr. Morgan to Oxford Castle. The result was that we determined, provided we could get the approval of the prison governor and the bishop (a courtesy insisted upon by my father when I wrote asking his advice on the matter), to set aside some time each week for this service.

Our prison work advanced so during the next two years that by 1732 this occupied most of our time. Our members held services at the Castle and the Bocardo regularly. We held prayers most Wednesdays and Fridays, a sermon on Sunday, and Holy Communion once a month. We put aside every penny we could spare for legal advice, to pay the debts of those who had been confined for relatively trivial sums, to provide medicines, books, and a few necessities. We even hired a schoolmaster to instruct the debtors' children.1! Although not all the prisoners were grateful for our intervention, most of the ridicule came from our colleagues at Oxford who frequently accused us of being 'righteous over much." By then we were known not only as the Holy Club, but also were called individually

"Bible moths," "Bible bigots," "supererogation men,"

"enthusiasts," as well as ''Methodists." Since the latter did not greatly offend us, we soon accepted it as our badge of cause. 12

This was not a badge easily carried, however. As Methodists, we were not to be content with just solemn devotions or early rising, but "at all times and at all places make fervent returns to the mind of God." Was this carrying things too far? Were we spending strength on unneces- °Parliament appointed this committee on February 25, 1729.

Samuel, Jr. was so moved by their first report that he wrote The Prisons Open'd:

Yet Britain ceased my Captives' Woes to mourn, To break their Chains, see Oglethorpe was borne!

"Journal, Vol. I, p. 467.

Letters, Vol. I, pp. 53f. See Schmidt, John Wesley, Vol. I, p. 102, fora good study of the origin of the term "Methodist."

The Holy Club

sary burdens? I think not, but there was so little support.

Although we were not actually persecuted (the rumors that the disciplinary officials of Christ Church were going to "blow us up" were greatly exaggerated), several discouraging things began to happen.

On November 6, 1730, I had been appointed moderator in philosophy. I quickly developed an expertise for argument (a skill to be greatly used during the Revival), establishing a reputation as a reasonable tutor in logic. I was gaining confidence. Although I was shaken a bit by the death of Dr. Morley on June 13, 1731, this seemed to present no real problem since I played a significant role in the election of the new rector, my friend, Euseby Isham, one month later. Dr. Isham seemed sympathetic and generous

(he donated money for our work at the Castle), but then apparently developed some later concern for my religious zeal. By 1732 he entrusted me with fewer and fewer students. This in itself would not have caused much anxiety, but for the fact that even members of my own family began to question our actions. My brother Samuel, for example, after a visit to Oxford wrote:

Does John beyond his strength presume to go?

To his frail carcass literally a foe?

Lavish of health as if in haste to die, And shortened time to ensure eternity?

Samuel could be excused, but surely my mother would understand. I wrote to her concerning those who had accused us and was quite surprised when she replied by cautioning me against glorying in temptation. She wrote that I should pray to avoid temptation rather than conquer it. I was near despair. My only real confirmation concerning my present activities came from my devotional reading, again, mostly among the mystics. This seemed to rekindle my affection for solitude, however.

Then a crowning blow. In August, 1732, William Morgan died. 14 The Holy Club in general, and Charles and I in 13George Stevenson, Memoirs of the Wesley Family (London: S. W.

Partridge and Co., 1876), p. 245.

14William Morgan died after a long illness which was thought by some to have resulted from the excessive fasting imposed by Wesley.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology particular, were blamed for his death. The enemy was back at my throat. This time he would strike at the root. Presenting our defense in the now well-known series of letters to Morgan's father, I described the intent and purpose of our works of charity, even our spiritual exercises, with so much satisfaction that the senior Morgan sent his younger son to me upon his matriculation in Oxford some two years later. I, however, was the one who most needed convincing. I felt lonely and abandoned. The enemy had done his work well. So much so, that I delivered my soul to Mr.

Morgan and promptly withdrew into the quietness of my own rooms for a period of reexamination.

Although I was still mildly social, with occasional visits to the Cotswolds and to London during the winter months,

I spent less and less time with anyone apart from the Holy Club, avoiding the Common Room almost altogether. The Holy Club itself continued with remarkable regularity, although I considered for a time resigning, at least as its leader. 15

It was about this time that I was drawn to William Law.

In July, 1732, I first visited him at Putney and he was so favorably impressed with us that he chose to write in our defense.'© I was soon to realize, however, that he was defending our religious asceticism (especially as related to mysticism), not our works of charity. Again in my Journal review for 1738 I wrote: "A contemplative man convinced me more than ever that outward works are nothing and instructed me how to pursue inward holiness, ora union of the soul with God.''!" Although I would not abandon these

Since Wesley himself had been fasting for only six months and Morgan had not fasted for eighteen months prior to his death this accusation is certainly false. The letter that John wrote to Morgan's father in defense of the Holy Club is an interesting study of early Methodism. The letter along with a poem written by Samuel Wesley, Jr. in memory of William

Morgan serve as an introduction to the Journal (Vol. I, pp. 87-105).

*See Green, The Young Mr. Wesley, p. 58.

title of Law's paper was: The Oxford Methodists Being Some Account of a Society of Young Gentlemen in that City so Denominated. See

John S. Simon, John Wesley and the Religious Societies, pp. 97ff. for extracts from this paper.

(Journal, Vol. I, pp. 468f) wrongly identifies this contemp-

The Holy Club

works of charity altogether, my interest in the inner life of the contemplatives was once again reinforced. Perhaps I should try my hand at writing. I had obviously demonstrated some gift for the pen in my correspondence with Mr. Morgan. I began my first book, A Collection of Forms of Prayer for Every Day in the Week, which was written for my students. It was published the following year.

In the meantime, William Law was to become my mentor (Charles once referred to him as our "John the Baptist'').

He quickly overruled the painful lesson I had learned at Wroot and once again I was back on the mystic way. Since the days of his Christian Perfection and his Serious Call,

Law had combined his ethical idealism with a high degree of mystical detachment. I was persuaded to read the Theologia Germanica and other mystical works, and while I failed to understand all that Mr. Law was saying, I was nonetheless a willing student. Law put me on a kind of inner penance. Although my rigid asceticism had continued (my health was a bit precarious at this point, and my rigorous self-discipline imposed a severe strain on my constitution), I was once again inclined to seek solitude and to abandon social service. Like Wroot, Oxford became another mystical experiment involving a withdrawal from the world. At Oxford, however, I would sink even deeper into the esoteric world of mysticism. As at Wroot, the inner approach to God again got the upper hand. This time, however, it was not over and against reason, but against any form of outward works-righteousness. I remember writing that Mr. Law "spoke so incautiously against trusting in outward works, that he discouraged me from doing them at all." lative man as Dr. Hoole. Dr. Hoole, you will remember, had exactly the opposite effect.

18The eminent Putney physician and mystic, Dr. Cheyne, fired Law's enthusiasm for mysticism with the works of Jacob Boehme. Law did not stop there, however. He knew the desert fathers, especially Macarius.

He was also greatly attracted to the fourteenth-century mystics: Tauler, Eckhart, Suso, and Ruysbroeck. Likewise, Wesley's Diary for 1732 and 1733 reveals his own interest in the mystical authors: Rodriguez

(On Humility), Francois de Sales (Introduction toa Devout Life), Monsieur de Renty, Fénelon (Maxims of the Saints and Pastoral Letters Concerning

John Wesley: His Life and Theology There is a subtle, but extremely important, turn here.

Although Law discouraged me from outward works, his Mental Prayer and the Like Exercises were ''as much one's own works as visiting the sick or clothing the naked.''19

Law's effectual means of purifying the soul, the uniting of it with God, were as much "my own righteousness as any I had before pursued under another name. In this refined way of trusting my own works and my own righteousness

(so zealously inculcated by the mystic writers), I dragged on heavily, finding no comfort or help therein til the time of my leaving England.''2° William Law was not the only one influencing me at this time. Nor was I the only member of the Holy Club influenced by mysticism. Mr. Law's friend and physician,

Dr. Cheyne, first introduced me to the well-known mystic, Count Marsay. Similarly, John Byrom, another friend of Mr. Law, who contributed much to the revival of mystical studies during the first half of the century, directed my attention to several mystical treatises as well.

Furthermore, our entire "company" developed an interest in the ascetical aloofness of mysticism. I remember writing to Miss Bishop in November, 1774. After warning her against mystic solitude, I was forced to admit that "most of our little flock at Oxford were tried with this, my brother and I in particular." Undoubtedly the majority of our members were impregnated with a certain degree of mysticism, especially Charles and I, John

Clayton, John Gambold, Westley Hall, and George Whitefield. Of course, it affected different members in different ways.

In spite of the controversy surrounding young Morgan's death, the Holy Club continued to attract others. Werarely had fewer than four nor more than seven. In the spring of 1732, John Clayton, a Fellow and tutor of Brasenose, bethe Love of God), Castaniza, Ephraem Syrus (On Repentance), Malebranche, A. H. Francke, Norris Horneck, Heylyn, Taylor, aKempis, Law, and even the Bull Unigenitus all find their way into Wesley's theological/devotional reading.

19Journal, Vol. 1, p. 469.

2lbid., pp. 469f.

The Holy Club 1:23 came a member of our society. His orthodoxy was unquestionable, but he soon drifted into mysticism. He wrote to me the following August that 'it meant a great deal to him that he was beginning to understand what was meant by the union of souls, so much talked of by Malebranche and Antoinette Bourignon.''?! I believe that this was my first encounter with Madame Bourignon. Under her influence

Mr. Clayton not only heightened our quest for union with God, but soon had us praying and fasting after the mystical plan.

John Gambold also joined our company in 1732. A selfstyled religious seeker, living a sequestered, secluded, and introspective life, Mr. Gambold made no secret of the fact that he had read widely among the mystics and encouraged us to do the same.

There were still others. Westley Hall, one for whom! had great hope, wandered into Quietism (both he and Gambold were later drawn to the Moravians). You can imagine my remorse when Mr. Hall became a smooth-tongued hypocrite, and was unfaithful in his marriage to my sister

Martha.

Even George Whitefield, one of our most distinguished members, dabbled in mysticism. He unashamedly claimed that his reading in the mystic Henry Scougal's Life of God in the Soul of Man led to his conversion.

Before describing the events of 1735, a climactic year in many respects, let me put some of this into perspective.

Perhaps the one thing that stands out as a result of the time spent with William Law (especially during the years 1732 to 1735) and my resurgence into mysticism was the realization that faith does not come by outward works. Although, as I have already mentioned, the mystic inward journey was simply a more subtle form of works-righteousness, I was not to see the truth in this for some three or four years to come. The issue now was (though did not know it at the time) that my works of charity, though noble, were the result, not the cause, of saving faith. Holiness was a matter of the heart. This should not, however, lead you to believe

21Tyerman, Life and Times, Vol. I, pp. 83f.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology that I or any of our company abandoned works in a lump.

Although Law and mystics discouraged works in theory, we, like many of the mystics, continued several of the acts of charity in practice. Although many of these mystics exaggerated the effects of their theology, it was the mystic lives that attracted as well. Even then, in many ways, that which was least mystical about the mystics—a way of life which frequently demonstrated a high degree of social concern along with a serious vein of piety aimed at Christian perfection—impressed us most. With this in mind, I used these mystical lives as a pattern for instructing those under my care. ??

Perhaps a brief review of my sermon, Circumcision of the Heart (first preached in 1733), will reveal something of the mood of the time. Here sanctification is achieved largely through self-denial. Although I state clearly that love is the sum total of the perfect law, I cite the phrase (so often quoted in mysticism): 'Let the spirit return to God that gave it, with the whole train of its affections, 'unto the place from whence all the rivers came,' thither let them flow again.' We must give God all our affections. We must surrender our whole heart to God in love. "This is the way wherein 'those children of God' (our mystic friends) who being dead still speak to us: 'Desire not to live, but to praise his name; let all your thoughts, words, and works tend to his glory. Set your heart firm on Him, and on other things only as they are in Him, that you may love nothing but for his sake.'''?4 This concept of "purity of intention" emerged as one of the mystical mainsprings in the pursuit of holiness and taught me once again that true holiness involves the heart.

In fact, I remember writing to my father about this time that "by holiness I mean not fasting or bodily austerity (as ?2An excellent illustration demonstrating the extent to which Wesley went to oversee the spiritual lives of his flock is provided in a letter to Law, Letters, Vol. I, pp. 161ff. In 1734, Wesley read Scougal, Norris,

Malebranche, Francke, de Sales, Taylor, Law, and The Life of Ebenezer Yokton, an Exact Entire Mystic.

23Sermons, Vol. I, p. 279.

4Ibid.

The Holy Club

he seemed to suppose) or any other external means of improvement, but the inward temper, to which all these things are subservient, a renewal of the soul in the image of God2"28

In December, 1734, my father tried once again to persuade me to return to Epworth as he would soon need someone to replace him in the work of the parish. I then believed that I could best pursue God's holiness at Oxford.

Although I was soon to change that decision, it was too late, for a few months later he was dead. Just prior to his death he had told me that the "inward witness was the strongest proof of Christianity.'" Had I convinced him while still remaining unconvinced myself? I was a haunted man. If reason or outward works would not lead to a sense of divine acceptance, then perhaps I was on the right track.

Perhaps the quickest way to secure this inner assurance was through mysticism.

About five months after my father's death, I wrote a sermon entitled 'The Trouble and Rest of Good Men."

This was the first sermon I ever committed to the press (bless God, it was never reprinted). It undoubtedly represents my theological nadir. I still did not understand "by grace through faith." If fellowship with God was not secured by reason or outward works, then surely it was by the various mystical means. The text for the sermon was Job

3:17: 'There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary be at rest.'" | demonstrated the efficacy of pain as remedial and spiritually therapeutic. I assumed that the body was the moral seat of evil and that death alone delivers perfectly from sin. By insisting that wicked men are good men's "needful food' I disregarded the fact that all bad men are potentially good men. The entire sermon was more of an attempt to justify the actions of the Holy Club in the face of persecution, rather than an exhortation to holiness. May a merciful God not hold this sermon against me.

Before moving on I should say that my jealous care for the Holy Club was somewhat justified. Our number con25Letters, Vol. I, p. 168.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology tinued to influence the Oxford community for several years to come. In spite of my leaving shortly afterward, the little band of Oxford Methodists provided the nucleus for the beginning of revival just four years later. Before that story can be told, however, there is yet another chapter in my pilgrimage to faith that must be described.

The belated decision to accept my father's offer to go to Epworth served to break the spell of the Oxford cloister and it enabled me, a few months later, to move to a different environment altogether. Just how different, let me describe to you.

Georgia In the midst of the Psalm wherewith their service began, the sea broke over, split the main-sail in pieces, covered the ship, and poured in between the decks, as if the great deep had already swallowed us up. A terrible screaming began among the English. The Germans calmly sung on. I asked one of them afterwards, 'Was you not afraid?" He answered, 'I thank God, no."

I asked, "But were not your women and children afraid?" He replied, mildly, ''No; our women and children are not afraid to die."'

The Journal of John Wesley Suddenly "the sea broke over us from stem to stern; burst through the windows of the state cabin, where three or four of us were, and covered us all over, though a bureau sheltered me from the main shock. About eleven I lay down in the great cabin, and in a short time fell asleep, though very uncertain whether I should wake alive, and much ashamed of my unwillingness to die. Oh, how pure in heart must he be, who would rejoice to appear before God at a moment's warning! Toward morning, 'He rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.'''! But, once again the enemy had showed his teeth.

"We returned God thanks for our deliverance, of whicha few appeared duly sensible. But the rest (among whom were most of the sailors) denied we had been in any danger. I could not have believed that so little good would have been done by the terror they were in before. But it cannot be that they should long obey God from fear, who are deaf to the motives of love."

A few days later another storm began. "In the morning it 1This and the following six paragraphs are taken from Wesley's

Journal. Works, Vol. I, pp. 20ff.

27.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology increased, so that they were forced to let the ship drive. I could not but say to myself, 'How is it that thou hast no faith?, being still unwilling to die. About one in the afternoon almost as soon as I had stepped out of the great cabin-door, the sea did not break as usual, but came witha full, smooth tide over the side of the ship. I was vaulted over with water in a moment and so stunned that I scarce expected to lift up my head again, till the sea should give up her dead. But thanks be to God, I received no hurt at all.

About midnight the storm ceased.

"At noon the day following our third storm began. At four it was more violent than before. Now, indeed, we could say, 'the waves of the sea were mighty, and raged horribly. They rose up to the heavens above, and' clave

'down to hell beneath.' The winds roared round about us, and (what I never heard before) whistled as distinctly as if it had been a human voice. The ship not only rocked to and fro with the utmost violence, but shook and jarred with so unequal, grating a motion, that one could not but with great difficulty keep one's hold of anything, nor stand a moment without it. Every ten minutes came a shock against the stern or side of the ship, which one would think would dash the planks in pieces. At this time a child, privately baptized before, was brought to be received into the Church. It put me in mind of Jeremiah's buying the field when the Chaldeans were on the point of destroying

Jerusalem, and seemed a pledge of the mercy God designed to show us, even in the land of the living.

"We spent two or three hours after prayers, in conversing suitably to the occasion, confirming one another in a calm submission to the wise, holy, gracious will of God.

And now a storm did not appear so terrible as before. Bless be the God of all consolation!

"At seven I went to the Germans. I had long before observed the great seriousness of their behaviour. Of their humility they had given a continual proof, by performing those servile offices for the other passengers which none of the English would undertake; for which they desired, and would receive no pay, saying, 'it was good for their proud

Georgia

hearts,' and 'their loving saviour had done more for them.'

And every day had given them occasion of showing a meekness which no injury could move. If they were pushed, struck, or thrown down, they rose again and went away; but no complaint was found in their mouth. There was now an opportunity of trying whether they were delivered from the spirit of fear, as well as from that of pride, anger, and revenge. In the midst of the Psalm wherewith their service began, the sea broke over, split the main-sail in pieces, covered the ship, and poured in between the decks, as if the great deep had already swallowed us up. A terrible screaming began among the English. The Germans calmly sung on. I asked one of them afterwards, 'Was you not afraid?' He answered, 'I thank God, no.' I asked, 'But were not your women and children afraid?' He replied, mildly, 'No; our women and children are not afraid to die.'

"From them I went to their crying, trembling neighbors, and pointed out to them the difference in the hour of trial, between him that feareth God, and him that feareth him not. At twelve the wind fell. This was the most glorious day which I have hitherto seen." It was January 25, 1736, on board the Simmonds bound for America.

The previous September, Dr. John Burton, a tutor at Corpus Christi College, had suggested that I leave Oxford for a time and consider the SPG (The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel) chaplaincy in the newly established colony of Georgia." I had long admired the work of several missionaries and since I still understood salvation in terms of spiritual exercises and withdrawal from the world (although I was now more determined to follow closely the Word of God in an effort to restore what I believed to be primitive Christianity), this seemed an ideal situation.

On October 10, 1735, the Georgia trustees approved my appointment. I was ready to leave. I had only to keep an audience with the Queen in order to present her with a copy of my father's book on Job (bless God my father was

2A letter to Dr. Burton (October 10, 1735) describes Wesley's motives for accepting this assignment (Dr. Burton was overjoyed). Wesley wrote that he hoped "to learn the true sense of the gospel." See Letters, Vol. I, pp. 187-91.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology not alive to hear her rather casual comment commending only the pretty binding) and attend my brother's ordination on October 12 (Charles had been ordained deacon only eight days earlier and would have refused Priest's

Orders had he not planned to make the journey with us and needed to have full authority in his new endeavor).

Georgia was still in its infancy. It had received its first settlers only three years earlier under the leadership of Mr.

Oglethorpe, a man I already held in great esteem as the result of his efforts in prison reform. Oglethorpe had founded Savannah and concluded a treaty with the Creek

Indians soon afterward.

I presented myself to Mr. Oglethorpe in person. I had already had the pleasure of his acquaintance some years past while visiting Mr. Law at Putney. Before deciding, however, I consulted my brother Samuel, my friend Mr.

Clayton, and finally my mother, who replied: 'Had I twenty sons, I should rejoice that they were all so employed, though I should never see them more.'

Although the advice received was not unanimous (William Law, for example, called our plans the scheme of a "crack-brained"' enthusiast), I felt the way was clear. Less than a week after my appointment we (my brother Charles, his friend Benjamin Ingham, and Charles Delamotte, the son of a London merchant whose father was displeased with the prospect of such an adventure, and I) began our journey. Iimmediately identified with some of my mystic friends. Gregory Lopez, for example, answering the mystic call to the desert, had gone himself at the age of twenty from Spain to Mexico, where he spent the rest of his life among the Indians. Before losing sight of land, I found myself reading his biography and thinking to myself: Now

I shall have a desert and Indians of my own. Lopez experienced an uninterrupted communion with God and I desired, more than anything, the perfect love that enables a person to dwell continually in the presence of God. Yet, I was still dissatisfied with my religious life. I continued my inner struggle. I did not love God with my whole heart.

3Henry Moore, Life, Vol. I, p. 234.

Georgia

Nor did I understand the way of grace through faith. So, I determined to preach, to follow after, and to trust in "that righteousness whereby no flesh can be justified.''* The twenty-six German Moravians on board (among whom I made several strong acquaintances) instantly tried to show me a better way, but I "understood it not at first,"" for | was

"too learned and too wise."

Nonetheless, as I continued to observe these Moravians (they were kind enough to teach me German), I became even more impressed with the seriousness of their behavior, their humility, and their peace of mind in all circumstances. I watched them closely, especially during the storms. While I shook with fright and while others were screaming, they were either singing or praying as if they were safely secure within the hallowed walls of St. Paul's.

If my enemy, my tormentor, my fear of death, was truly no respecter of persons, then they knew something that I did not yet know.

On board ship I took my pastoral duties (as prescribed by the SPG) seriously. I read both to myself and to any who would listen, for the most part among the mystics, though! must admit that my chief motive was to save my own soul even more than the souls of those given into my care.

February 6, 1736, I first set foot on American soil, an uninhabited island called Tybee from which Mr. Oglethorpe then proceeded on to Savannah. We had been on the open seas nearly two months.

Before Charles journeyed on to Frederica (a small community one hundred miles south of Savannah, where he became secretary to Mr. Oglethorpe and priest to the settlers), and I to Savannah, we were introduced (while still on the little island) to Mr. Spangenberg, one of the Moravian pastors whom Oglethorpe had brought back from Savannah. It would be difficult for me to estimate the impression he made on me. Just a year younger than myself, he instantly pressed us with questions regarding the witness of the Spirit. I remember his asking: ""Have you the witness within yourself? Does the Spirit of God bear

4Journal, Vol. I, p. 470.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology witness with your spirit that you are a child of God?" I must admit that I was surprised, and did not know what to answer. He then asked: "Do you know Jesus Christ?" After a pause, I replied: "I know he is the Savior of the world."

"True," he said, "but do you know that He has saved you?" I answered: "I hope He has died to save me."' He only added: "Do you know yourself?" I said: "I do," but I fear they were vain words. The significance of that encounter would soon come to light. In Georgia, as at Wroot and Oxford, I believed that discipline wrapped in selfdenial, not faith in Jesus Christ, was still the means of obtaining religious ends, and I fought hard and long fora full self-mastery which might lead to conscious union with God.

Interestingly enough, there was yet another side to Spangenberg that held my attention. He had a profound interest in mystical divinity which we frequently discussed. He was also a great admirer of 4 Kempis and, in fact, acknowledged himself to be a mystic.5 The Moravians in general, and Spangenberg in particular (although not mystics in the ordinary sense of the word), managed to combine a degree of mystical Quietism with a strong doctrine of assurance. Spangenberg continued to press me with regard to my assurance of salvation. Already impressed by the Moravian display of inner peace I observed while on board ship, I was primed for this encounter.

Then, Spangenberg introduced me to several mystical treatises. On February 27 we spent the afternoon discussing mysticism. That evening, after a period of meditation, we discussed the mystics and the conversation turned to my mystical friend, John Gambold. The next morning we again discussed mysticism and that afternoon I began

Madame Bourignon's Light of the World. Since I already had invested so much, I wanted to believe that mysticism was the key to Spangenberg's assurance. That same day I read Scougal to Mrs. Hawkins, one of our company from on board ship. In March I read The Life of Tauler. In April and May, Madame Bourignon (Treatise on Solid Virtue),

Journal, Vol. 1, p. 169,

Georgia

Fleury, Francke, de Renty, and a Kempis, all figured prominently. On March 14 I meditated in my garden, 4 Kempis in hand. On my first trip to Frederica, a Kempis and Bourignon (Light of the World) went with me. On Easter I refreshed my spirit with Fleury. All of these Roman Catholic mystics were encountered or reencountered in fairly rapid succession during my first few months in Georgia.

Following that first meeting with Mr. Spangenberg, while still moored off Tybee Island prior to our arrival at Savannah, I had yet another meeting which I felt was both providential and symbolic. Some of the Indians sent us word of their intention to come down to us. About 1:00 in the afternoon on February 14, Chief Tomochachi, his nephew, Theenouhee (the Crown-prince), his wife,

Sinauky, with two more women, and two or three Indian children, came on board. As soon as we came in (wearing our surplices and Oxford hoods, as some of the Indians were in costumes), they all rose and shook us by the hand.

Tomochachi (being interpreted by a Mrs. Musgrove) spoke as follows: "I am glad you are come. When was in England

(Oglethorpe had taken him to England two years previously), I desired that some would speak the great Word to me; and my nation then desire to hear it, but now we are all in confusion. Yet I am glad you are come. I will go up and speak to the wise men of our nation; and I hope they will hear. But we would not be made Christians as the Spaniards make Christians: We would be taught, before we are baptized." lanswered, "There is but One, He that sitteth in heaven, who is able to teach man wisdom. Though we are come so far, we know not whether He will please to teach you by us or no. If He teaches you, you will learn wisdom, but we can do nothing." We then withdrew.

Although I was somewhat encouraged by this initial encounter, my ministry among the Indians would, for the most part, be thwarted. Mr. Oglethorpe (who shortly returned to take my brother to Frederica where they joined

Mr. Ingham, who had gone ahead, while Mr. Delamotte and myself went on to Savannah) intended that I should

John Wesley: His Life and Theology build up the colony by ministering only to the English inhabitants. In addition, the Indians were frequently warring among themselves. So my repeated efforts to initiate some kind of mission to the heathen were continually blocked by either Mr. Oglethorpe or the Indians. It seemed that whenever! made plans to approach the Indians, either

Oglethorpe would disapprove, or Indian warfare created an almost insurmountable obstacle.

It should be stated that Mr. Oglethorpe was not without some cause. Upon my arrival at Savannah I soon found that the colonists needed just as much attention as any heathen.

Although my predecessor, Mr. Quincy, had been with them some three years, there was little or no religious discipline even among the most serious-minded. As Mr.

Quincy had not yet left the house where we were afterward to live, Mr. Delamotte and myself happily took lodging with the Germans. "We now had an opportunity, day by day, of observing their whole behavior. For we were in one room with them from morning to night, unless for a little time I spent in walking. They were always employed, always cheerful themselves, and in good humor with one another; they had put away all anger, and strife, and wrath, and bitterness, and clamour, and evil-speaking; they walked worthy of the vocation wherewith they were called, and adorned the Gospel of our Lord in all things."

I watched closely as they met to consult concerning the affairs of their church. 'After several hours spent in conference and prayer, they proceeded to the election and ordination of a bishop. -The great simplicity, as well as solemnity, of the whole, almost made me forget the 1700 years between, and imagine myself in one of those assemblies where form and state were not; but Paul the tentmaker, or Peter the fisherman, presided, yet, with the demonstration of the spirit and of power."

I recall a particular conversation with their bishop, Mr.

Nitschmann (a simple, straightforward gentleman of about sixty, who had accompanied his flock on the crossing), concerning one who was seriously ill. I shall never forget his reply as he smiled and said: 'He will soon be

Georgia

well; he is ready for the Bridegroom."® "Oh death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" I would to God

I had then understood the words following that verse, for surely, 'the strength of sin is the law."

Both Mr. Spangenberg and Mr. Nitschmann soon left Georgia. One went to Pennsylvania and the other back to Germany. I determined to settle into some kind of routine.

My days were properly occupied. As aruleI got up at 5:00, sometimes at 4:00. I frequently took part in morning prayers with the Germans and afterward read the Anglican

Office of Morning Prayer myself in the courthouse. I then conversed with one or another about religion, frequently during walks. I usually breakfasted with the Germans, had further pastoral talks, or read. Iremember being fascinated by a book on anatomy which I read with Dr. Reinier, a physician. Most of my reading, however, was devotional.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent either working in the garden or praying with Mr. Delamotte. After tea I read and took evening prayers, with an exposition of Scripture for the congregation. I then went to the Germans and, if in time, took part in their singing-meeting. Otherwise I meditated on my own. After evening prayer I went to bed at 10:00.

While in Georgia fasting became the rule. I took only such nourishment as was absolutely necessary. Reminiscent of Charterhouse, Mr. Delamotte and myself found that we could live for several days on only one kind of food with excellent results. We drank no wine and frequently ate no meat. Like the mystics, I continued my ascetical life in other ways as well. We slept in the parsonage upon the bare board floor, rather than in beds. We chose to eat the simplest dishes, though we could have had the best food from the storehouse. Once when the Germans wanted to give us something better, we declined it, believing that they had already given us food enough of another sort.

On March 7, I preached my first sermon in Savannah entitled, On Love. I began with the warning that "some, having no root of humility, or self-denial, when persecuJournal, Vol. I, p. 180.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology tion ariseth because of the word, will, rather than suffer for it, fall away." The essence of Christianity presented here, however, was not faith in Christ, but humility and selfdenial. I then believed that too much care for the world, not the absence of faith, prevented one from going on to perfection. Little wonder that I had to admit that I, too, was vulnerable to temptation and confessed "an evil heart of unbelief.' I still believed that persecution was the fire that tested true faith. Little did I realize that that persecution was soon to be upon me.

Soon afterward I received word from Mr. Ingham concerning Charles. Charles was proving inadequate as a secretary and disastrous as a priest at Frederica. Taking his commission seriously, he sought diligently to hold the insensitive, if not licentious, colonists accountable for their sins. When I first visited him, I found him dangerously sick with a fever, huddled in a comer of his hut, without so much as a board for a bed. He had taken an oath to starve rather than ask for food. To make matters worse, those against Charles had convinced Mr. Oglethorpe

(though only for a while, as he and my brother were later reconciled) that he was a fool. As if that were not enough, two designing women then confessed to Charles that they had had adulterous relations with Mr. Oglethorpe, and Charles knew no better than to take them seriously.

Somewhat confused as to what matter of course I should take, I decided to replace my brother at Frederica while he went to Savannah. Thorougly disillusioned, Charles returned to England in July, with dispatches from Mr. Oglethorpe for the Board of Trade.

I was soon to find that my efforts at Frederica were not much better received than those of Charles. One of the women who had deceived Charles actually tried to shoot me for telling the truth plainly. Nonetheless, I lingered on.

After all, I had been preaching "the reasonableness of those precepts of self-denial, daily suffering, and renouncing the world, which are so peculiar to Christianity, and which are the only foundation whereon the other virtues,

"Works, Vol. VII, p. 493.

Georgia

recommended in the New Testament, can be practiced or attained.''® Had I not exhorted those who would hear to hate their own lives and to suffer?° If one would take any step at all toward the countenance of God, "to dislike your present self must be the first.''1° Furthermore, 'There is a way to rescue ourselves, in great measure, from the ill consequences of our captivity; and our Saviour has taught us that way. It is by suffering.' 11 One must suffer to 'get above our corruption at present, and enjoy the Holy

Spititan Expecting to gain some entry with the Indians, I returned to Savannah weeks later. Although this was not to be, I followed the example of Mr. de Renty and managed to consider a matter which we found most useful to the little flock at Savannah. We agreed: 1. ''To advise the more serious among them to form themselves into a sort of little society, and to meet once or twice a week, in order to reprove, instruct, and exhort one another." 2. '"To select out of these a small number for a more intimate union with each other, which might be forwarded, partly by our conversing singly with each other, and partly by inviting them all together to our house; and this accordingly, we determined to do every Sunday in the afternoon.'''%

I determined also to become a teacher. I established a school where I catechized the children, both in church and in private. In the evening I taught the more gifted students and some even seemed to profit, but my own religious state of mind remained much the same. I was still convinced that I was not yet a son of God. Even the thunder and lightning (no small thing in Georgia) frightened me terribly. My absolute rule of religion, so instilled in me by the mystics, was not holding up under the test of practical experience.

8Works, Vol. VII, p. 517

Tbid., p. 517

10]bid., pp. 517f.

Abid., p,'518.

13Works, Vol. I, p. 310. Wesley later cites this as an important step in the development of his thought and practice on societies. Works, Vol.

VIII, pp. 138-168.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology

That same month (May, 1736), I determined to join the Herrnhuters. After the departure of Mr. Spangenberg and Mr. Nitschmann, Johann Téltschig was left in charge. We talked at length about ground for my admission. For some days I had been translating their hymns for use among the English-speaking colonists. I was again impressed by their mystical cast. Unfortunately, this was not enough. I still did not have the faith that brings peace with God. I was denied membership. True, there were ecclesiastical differences as well, but on the whole, my heart was not right. I remember writing in my Journal following a thunderstorm: "This voice of God, too, told me I was not fit to die; since I was afraid, rather than desirous of it. Oh, when shall I wish to be dissolved and to be with Christ? When I love him with all my heart."14 Although Téltschig invited me to share in their sacrament, I declined.

In a word, I was despondent. The old enemy seemed always near. I sought on a number of occasions to take him head on. I remember writing a poem, "On Death," and introduced it to my congregation.15 Yet, whenever one of my parishioners would die, I was deeply affected. During a particularly painful episode later, I was so possessed with thoughts of death that I actually wrote my will.'° I came to believe that shortness of life imperiled the process of sanctification. 17

So, during the summer I turned once again to the mystics. I studied carefully both Law and Scougal, but even more important, I began to pin my faith on Macarius and Ephraem Syrus. Macarius emphasized a highly individualistic Christian ideal. Like many of the mystics, he taught one to expect the fulfillment "of being born from on high" and that this would lead to a measure of Christian perfection. Especially significant at this point, however, was the fact that he also added a strong doctrine of progress in the Christian life. In September, Macarius extended my

Works Voll; p. 37, Sfournal, Vol. I, Davere, *°Journal, Vol. I, p. 337. The crisis here was the day of Sophy's marriage (see on p. 141).

7Letters, Vol. I, p. 120.

Georgia

rigid, static concept of perfection (disciplined love) to include a more dynamic progressive concept of perfection

(aspiring love).

At the same time I was plagued by backsliding. 1 was especially troubled by those parishioners, who, in my presence and under my leadership, responded to my discipline, but, in my absence their conviction quickly wore off and they soon fell away. I began to see how the mysticism of Macarius and Ephraem would stand in the gap.

Here the emphasis was upon growth and perseverance. I studied Ephraem on September 19, in preparing for the pulpit. On September 23, I wrote in my Journal on the mystics. On September 24, after morning prayers and coffee, I spent six hours with the mystics. On September 25 the mystics absorbed most of the morning. And, on September 27, my day's study again began with the mystics. In my Diary, Ephraem then reappears on October 16, 17, 19, and 20, and on November 1, 2, 3, and 22. As I began to understand his concept of perfection as a continuous process, I felt my spirit somewhat revive. Unfortunately, I was building upon a foundation which had not yet been laid.

Such a noble superstructure needed to be founded upon a rock. So, matters got worse.

My frustration as a missionary and pastor climaxed at Frederica. 'Being ignorant of the righteousness of Christ, which, by a living faith in him, bringeth salvation 'to everyone that believeth,' I sought to establish my own righteousness; and so labored in the fire all of my days.iae

My own works-righteousness (both external and internal) was revealing its lack of power to transform. Frederica would teach me a painful lesson. The mystic "form of godliness'' (remember I carried both a Kempis and Bourignon's Light of the World with me on my first visit to Frederica) revealed its impotency clearly there. I grew to expect my parishioners to backslide. On October 17, for example, I wrote in my Diary that I reached Frederica at half past three in the afternoon. I then noted despairingly that I "met Mark Hird, 'in trouble, alas! in trouble. O, my

18 Journal, Vol. I, p. 470.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Frederica!'''!9 Again after a later visit to Frederica I wrote:

"Most of those we met with were, as we expected, cold and heartless. I could not find one who had retained his first love.''?° So my attitudes began to change. On November

22, 1736, I laid Ephraem Syrus, my constant companion for nearly three months, aside for more than a decade. His rule and law needed life and root.

The following day I wrote to my brother Samuel: "I think the rock which I had the nearest made shipwreck of the faith was the writings of the mystics: under which term I comprehend all, and only those, who slight any of the means of grace.''?1 Although this was far from a final break with mysticism, one corner had been turned. Although my objection to mysticism had deepened from my earlier concern for its ''strictness,"" to a concern for its "slighting the means of grace," a much deeper problem had not yet surfaced, and would not surface for some eighteen months. That is the story of Aldersgate.

At this point I want to drop back and give you firsthand the account of the much publicized (if not completely distorted) romance with Sophy Hopkey, the niece of the wife of Mr. Causton, chief magistrate of Savannah.

I met Miss Sophy March 13, 1736. She was young (not yet nineteen, while I was nearly thirty-three), impressionable, and seemingly serious about her religious instruction. I readily accepted her as one of my students.

By October things had progressed to the place where I began to consider a proposal of marriage. We discussed the possibility on a number of occasions during that month and the months following. I was certain that I loved her though I still feared loving women more than God and confessed this in my Diary. I sought the counsel of Mr.

Delamotte and Mr. Ingham, the priests who had made the journey with us the previous year. They questioned her sincerity.

I then sought the advice of my Moravian friends who suggested that I retire to the woods in order to pray, which 1Ibid., p. 282.

41 Letters, Vol: 1' pa 207;

Georgia

I did for more than a week. Upon my return, I informed Miss Sophy that if I did marry, I would not do so until Ihad been among the Indians, at least for a while. Obviously hurt, she determined not to come to my house any more, but quickly invited me to hers. When I reminded her how I disliked a crowd, she affectionately replied: "We needn't

De init."

So, I struggled on, as I was prone to do even about the most trivial matters, for nearly a month. These were difficult days.

Then, on March 9, I was informed of her engagement toa Mr. Williamson, a dull, irreligious man, whom Sophy said she would marry, if I had no objection. Obviously trying to force my hand, what she meant was, "I will marry him, if you will not marry me."

This was my dilemma. I feared for Sophy's soul if I did not marry her, yet I could not take fire into my bosom and not be burned. Two days later she married Mr. Williamson

(a narrow escape) and within weeks had lost nearly all the grace she had. On July 5 I wrote her a mild and friendly letter objecting to her neglecting the worship, the fast, and the communion.

On August 7 I was forced by conscience to refuse her communion since she would not inform the curate regarding her intentions to commune (a rule of the church) and she further refused to confess her sins openly. A lawsuit

(recorded by her uncle) resulted, which dragged on to no conclusion for better than four months. On December 22, rather than prolong the matter still further, I took a rather hasty (though openly published) leave of America, as some would have made an attempt (however feeble) to prevent it.

To summarize, therefore, I went to Georgia expecting to find a spiritual climate conducive to yet another mystical experiment. My disappointment, rather than leading me to alter my methods, caused me to redouble my efforts in an almost frantic attempt to achieve a constant awareness of God. Out of my subsequent frustration I unleashed an attack on my mystic masters (remember the letter to

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Samuel), thinking them to be the source of my failure as a pastor and missionary. Although my general diagnosis was correct, I still failed to understand the true nature of my lack of power. The disease went far deeper than I had imagined. I still had no faith, no peace, and no assurance.

My journey home would prove this conclusively. I had learned precious little from my "trial by fire."

[left America a dejected man.

The Analysis, Part I How ought you then never to desist from seeking after God? For the damage which you sustained by your neglect is exceeding great tho' you may even seem to be established in the mystery of grace.

Macarius John Wesley, during the years 1725-1737, led a futile search for an assurance, an awareness of God's presence, that asceticism (remember that this was the one common denominator prevalent in all the variant influences of his youth) could not produce.

In the first theological analysis we attempted to establish that Platonic ends do not mix with Aristotelian means.' Asceticism, for a time Wesley's all-in-all (1725-1727), even coupled with the solitude of Wroot (1727-1729), the outward works of the Holy Club (1730-1732), and the interior, but more subtle works of Law (1732-1735), did not produce for Wesley that elusive assurance of salvation. All this became painfully clear in Georgia (1735-1737). He left there a dejected man, still lacking the witness of the Spirit that would deliver him from his fear of death. This is the almost pathetic pilgrimage that needs to be described here.

Although his evangelical conversion at Aldersgate was, by the time he left Georgia, less than six months away, Wesley still did not understand faith as ''the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.'' His own abbreviated analysis for the period reads: 1725-1729—no foundation of repentance; 1729-1734—a little repentance but no faith in the 1Wesley would later build his own case against outward works (including asceticism) producing inward holiness in an interesting letter to John Smith.

Letters, Vol. Il, pp. 68ff.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology blood of the covenant; 1734-1738—a little faith but still no fruit.?

Before we begin our own analysis in greater detail, perhaps a brief word about sources would be appropriate. Although the Journal does not begin until his departure for Georgia, his

Diary begins ten years earlier, in April, 1725. Consequently, at several points we can and should confirm or document our conclusions with the Diary itself. The story now becomes strikingly personal.

Wesley's Diary is brutally honest. In fact, it tends toward self-condemnation if not properly understood. Take the romance with Sophy Hopkey, for example. She appears to be the victim of a remarkably insensitive man, but if we had equal insight into Miss Sophy, the truth would probably lie somewhere in between.3

In addition to the Diary, two secondary sources are particularly helpful for the student of Wesley's life during this period.4

First, V. H. H. Green's The Young Mr. Wesley, reveals a great deal of information about Wesley's years at Oxford. He takes good advantage of his access to the unpublished Diaries

(1725-1735), as well as the archives at Oxford relevant for such a study. Then, Martin Schmidt's John Wesley, A Theological Biography, Vol. |, draws heavily upon the Herrnhut archives available to him for the study of the Moravian influence, especially in Georgia.

For the mystical influence | draw upon my own dissertation, "The influence of the Roman Catholic Mystics on John Wesley,'' presented to the University of Bristol in partial fulfillment of the requirement for the Doctor of Philosophy Degree in theology. Although the material here is by no means a review

?Letters, Vol. Il, p. 264.

Even the "champion" of Victorian morality, William Gladstone, in his recently published Diaries (Oxford: University Press) writes that he was so guilt stricken over what he regarded as shameful sexual thoughts, that he frequently went home after his "rescue" meetings with the prostitutes and whipped himself (it was public knowledge that he was committed to saving prostitutes from their sins). Time magazine, 3/24/75.

'There are numerous other books (see Bibliography, Part Il) which are perhaps equally helpful, but these have been selected as representative works published within the last twenty years.

The Analysis, Part II

of that work, some of the conclusions are a result of that study.® Just as the chapter headings suggest, Wesley's early ministry contains four major phases, all focusing upon asceticism. As a young Oxford tutor (1725-1727) this spells itself out through self-denial. As a curate at Wroot (1727-1729), an emphasis upon solitude sets the stage. Under the influence of the Holy

Club, works of charity (1730-1732), and the interior life as exemplified by William Law and the mystics (1732-1735), provide the key. The journey to Georgia then confirmed the futility of Wesley's ascetical exercises to produce faith either in himself or in others and left him utterly confused.

As we turn to the analysis, several persons figure prominently in each of the successive stages. Let us take Mr. Wesley back through these past twelve years and examine individually the effects of these important influences.

During Wesley's first two years as an Oxford tutor he was a man obsessed (to use the description from chapter 7) by the notion of moral imperfection and was continually dissatisfied with his efforts in the pursuit of holiness.© Consequently it was during this period of Wesley's life (1725-1727) that the more ascetical side of his character gained ascendency. Taylor anda

Kempis had convinced him that ''faith is either in dead earnest or just dead.'' William Law (who completes the celebrated triumvirate referred to in Wesley's A Plain Account of Christian Perfection) would reinforce their emphasis upon ''simplicity of intention and purity of affection." Furthermore, Wesley's previously casual acquaintance with the mystics would now be accentuated by his intention to give his all to God.'

Neither Taylor nor a Kempis, nor even his spiritual director for the time, Sally Kirkham, provide the theological key for this period, however. Taylor and a Kempis had already made their

5Additional works are listed in the Bibliography at the end of this chapter, but again, these have been singled out for the degree of competence they display for the period now under consideration.

6In his Diary for December 1, 1725, January 29 and March 12, 1726, Wesley condemns himself for "unclean thoughts,'' etc. Cf., Green, The Young Mr. Wesley, pp. 81-83.

7Unfortunately, the Diary is missing from February, 1727 to May, 1729. If we had that diary there would no doubt be much more data, but it is significant that Fénelon appears close to where the Diary ends and Monsieur de Renty appears soon after the Diary begins again.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology mark (though it was a lasting one and needs to be taken seriously throughout). Sally Kirkham's theological influence

(though she contributes significantly to the biographical sections due to her influence on Wesley's personal and spiritual life) was, for the most part, through the books that she recommended and was, therefore, indirect. Most of the theology that accrues during this period must be traced to other sources epitomized by William Law and Francois Fénelon.

Although Law's influence was not nearly so prominent here as it was during his mystical years (when both the Wesleys were visiting him personally), much of Wesley's theological perspective can be identified in Law's Christian Perfection. ®

Wesley writes: ''A year or two after (meeting with Taylor and a Kempis), Mr. Law's 'Christian Perfection' and 'Serious Call' were put into my hands. These convinced me, more than ever, of the absolute impossibility of being half a Christian: | determined, through His grace (the absolute necessity of which | was deeply sensible of) to be all-devoted to God, to give him all my soul, my body, and my substance." Although Law's Serious Call was actually not encountered until Wesley was at Wroot, his Christian Perfection added integrity to Wesley's ascetical practices and enabled him to articulate theologically his various religious exercises.

The second influence which should be mentioned can be demonstrated by Francois Fénelon. Wesley knew at least some of Fénelon's works by the winter of 1726/1727. By February,

1727, we find him transcribing Fénelon's Discourse on Simplicity for Varanese. Wesley read a great deal of Fénelon and a surprising number of his books sti!! can be found in John's personal library.° Wesley was especially fond of Fénelon's concept of "simplicity," and refers to it on numerous

tells us that he first read Law after eight years at Oxford. Since the Diary is missing, however, the exact date is un known. The spring of 1727 isa fairly good guess, but it could be a little later.

following works appear in the catalogue to Wesley's personal library under Fénelon: Letters (1 718), Dialogues sur L'Eloquence (1 718), Oeuvres

Philosophiques ou Demonstration de L'Existence de Dieu (1721), Histoire de la Vie et des Fourages (1729, trans. 1738), Extract from a Discourse on Humility (1758), and A Discourse Upon Christian Perfection (1759). Wesley also read Fénelon's Telemachus (Journal, January 7, 1760.

The Analysis, Part II

Simplicity for Wesley, as with Fénelon, came to mean "that grace which frees the soul from all unnecessary reflections upon itself.'""1 One's love toward God must be simple and pure. Fénelon came to represent "'true religion'"' for Wesley, defined as ''the love of God and man filling the heart and governing the life.'"'? Although most of the mystics read during these years (and there were many) were studied more for their ascetical practices, their theological influence was beginning to surface.

Significantly, soon after Fenelon was encountered, Wesley began looking for a place where he could pursue his religious goals without interruption. The next two years (1727-1729) were spent, for the most part, at Wroot.

In chapter 8 we noted that Wesley had considerable theological insight into his own situation during these years.

The analysis here will serve as a brief review with a few additional comments concerning the influence of William Law and the mystic, Monsieur de Renty.

At the outset, Wesley's experiment with solitude served one immediate purpose. The route to faith upon purely rational grounds would soon lose its appeal. His fear of death (recently aroused by the death of his friend, Robin Griffith) would not give way to reason. This did not mean, however, that he would now opt for Platonic means to accommodate Platonic ends.

The appeal of mystical union with God delayed this still further. Wesley, at this point, sought faith as a blind obedience to God, dominated by ascetical exercises (a more subtle kind of interior works), exalting solitude. This can be demonstrated by Law's second treatise, A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy

Life, and even more importantly, by another mystic, the Marquis de Renty.

Wesley's father, and more especially his mother, figure prominently in his personal and spiritual life, but as with Sally

Kirkham, their theological influence was more through the books they recommended. Although it is open to question as to who recommended what to whom, much of their reading

10Cf,, Letters, Vol. V, p. 193 and Vol. VI, pp. 8,128,281.

"Letters, Vol. VI, p. 128.

12Works, Vol. VII, p. 162, sermon, On Former Times.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology during this period focused upon Law and de Renty.

Law's A Serious Call represents a transitory stage between a highly ethical period and a highly mystical one beginning in 1732. Although scholars differ as to the degree of mysticism in this second treatise, the fact remains that A Serious Call heightened Wesley's sensitivity to the influence of de Renty."?

In the extract of de Renty's Life, published by Wesley in 1741 and included in the first edition of his Works, we find:

'For the things done in community, | often cannot rest there: | perform indeed the exterior for the keeping of order; but follow always my interior, because when a man hath God, there is no need to search for him elsewhere.''"* He continues: 'For the interior, therefore, | found this attractive; and for the exterior, | see the divine will, which I follow, with the discernment of his spirit, in all simplicity; and so | possess by his grace, in all things, silence of spirit, a profound reverence, and solid peace.

communicate almost every day, perceiving myself strongly drawn thereto. | continually give up myself to God through Jesus Christ, ... 1! enter into a heat and into a fire, and even to my finger ends, feel that all within me speaks for its God, and stretched itself forth in length and breadth in his immensity, that it may there dissolve and there lose itself, to glorify him.''"5

Although there was much in de Renty that Wesley would continue to appreciate, even long after Aldersgate, the attraction here to solitude (Wesley's interpretation of the "interior'') would, like reason before it, soon lose its appeal. It simply did not produce the assurance that would deliver him from his fear of death. Faith was still an illusion. Consequently, when his father's friend, Dr. Hoole, insisted that there was no solitary religion, Wesley (at the direction of Dr. Morley recalling all

Bishop Cannon sees no apparent mystical element in the stern but practical view of religion presented in this work. On the other hand, Dunn

Wilson (in an unpublished dissertation, Leeds University, 1968, entitled "The Influence of Mysticism on John Wesley'') argues that Law's idea of partaking of the mysterious sacrifice of Christ lies at the heart of Christian mysticism (Law's Works, Vol. IV, pp. 174-175). Wilson also cites Law's mention of the ''transports of devotion' (Law's Works, Vol. HV, (p.F135):

"Extract, pp. 5f. Wesley mentions de Renty in two of his sermons in light of his mysticism (Works, Vol. VII, p. 44; Vol. VII, p. 77).

'SExtract, pp. 5f.

The Analysis, Part II

Junior Fellows) willingly returned to Oxford where he immediately joined the "little company" organized six months earlier by his brother Charles.

In spite of his disillusionment with mystic solitude, Wesley continued to read de Renty during the years of the Holy Club

(1729-1735). For the careful reader, de Renty poses an interesting marriage between the interior and exterior life. Asceticism, for Wesley, would still supply the common ground, but the interior life would no longer be interpreted in terms of solitude, but mystic prayer (a near obsession with him now), and the activities of the Holy Club (especially between 1730-1732) would provide a proper stage for the exterior life through works of charity.

Again de Renty simply epitomizes the best of those read at this time, but William Morgan's social sensitivity must have reminded Wesley of de Renty. Several similarities can be noted between de Renty and Wesley with reference to this love manifesting itself in works of charity. Both attended the needs of the poor.'® De Renty frequently had the poor in to dine, as did Wesley at the Foundery.'? Both lived economically in order to give to the poor. Both visited the sick and took a considerable interest in the medical art. Both spent much time ministering to the imprisoned: de Renty assisted the English prisoners captured during Buckingham's expedition to Rochelle and Wesley ministered to the French prisoners captured during the Seven Years' War. De Renty undoubtedly interested Wesley in the practical effects of the mystical life with God which combined an ''internal evi16Extract, p. 10. 'During the war at Paris, he went himself to buy bread for the poor, and carried through the streets as much as his strength would permit. .

. ." Remember that de Renty was in frequent communication with Vincent de Paul. De Renty not only cooperated with Vincent in works of charity, but on occasion directed the saint's special attention to them. De

Renty, 'a worthy co-labourer'' animated with the same spirit, was always sensitive to those in need and was actually the one who brought to de Paul's attention the relief of the refugee nobility of Lorraine and the relief of the Catholic and Protestant refugees from England (those loyal to Charles |). Cf.,

The Life of the Baron de Renty or, Perfection in the World Exemplified (London: Burns and Oates, 1873), pp. 197ff.

Wesley refers to this practice at the Foundery as ''a comfortable earnest of our eating bread together in our Father's Kingdom."

John Wesley: His Life and Theology dence firm and unshaken" with an external life of constant service.

We will discuss de Renty's influence later (especially with regard to his ideas on religious societies), but for now suffice it to say that Wesley was vulnerable to the more speculative mysticism of William Law. Between 1732-1735 Law, a recent convert to the German mysticism of Tauler and Boehme, would serve as Wesley's spiritual director. In chapter 9 we see that Law, the "contemplative man,'" put Wesley on an inner penance. Ironically, Law nullified the more positive influence of de Renty by seeking to discourage Wesley's works of charity altogether.

Although Wesley continued these works at an abbreviated pace, William Morgan was dead. The enemy was back at full strength, and Wesley pursued his own righteousness under another name, 'dragging on heavily" until he left for America.

Aldersgate at this point was still three years off. During the past ten years this is what he had learned: reason alone would not produce faith; mystic solitude would not produce faith; works of charity (the exterior life) would not produce faith; inner penance (the "interior life' reinforced by his father's dying words concerning the inward witness) would not produce faith. All of these, even wrapped in asceticism, produced nothing. What was left? Before that story is to be told, Wesley journeys to Georgia (1735-1737).

Wesley must have been thinking: "Surely my religious endeavors count for something." After all, was he not "a brand plucked from the burning'? Perhaps the right opportunity had not yet presented itself. Georgia could well have been that Opportunity. He rushed in! Four days after his appointment was approved, his journey began. He reveals the extent of his determination by looking the enemy full in the teeth. There was a good possibility that such an adventure would cost him his life. If the sea did not surrender him to the murderer, then

"From Wesley's Extract, p. 36, we read: "The grand exercises of M. de Renty was, to apply and unite himself to our Saviour, and from that union, an example, to derive all his virtues and good works. To mold himself after him ne his general course, both in his inward tempers and outward beaviours,"'

The Analysis, Part II

the Indians would. If need be, the ''brand plucked'' would return to the fire in order to fulfill its greatness.

We have seen that Wesley, although committed to mysticism intellectually, lacked some of the basic mystical characteristics. Indeed, one is forced to ask at times whether he ever really understood the mystics. For example, Wesley had studied Fénelon enthusiastically, but his love for God was far from ''disinterested.'' Furthermore, Wesley was anything but indifferent to salvation and the one thing he wanted most the mystics could not give—assurance. Yet Wesley's understanding of the goal of religion was essentially mystical. His negative view of the world, his misconception of faith, and his determination to achieve a conscious relationship with God, were all mystical ideas. Wesley, at this point, seems to have inherited many of the mystics' "vices,'" but few of their virtues. His experience in Georgia, however, began to put things more in perspective.

As the Simmonds leaves England, the mystic Gregory Lopez is pictured as a possible model for Wesley's extended pilgrimage. Although Wesley briefly describes Lopez's influence in chapter 10, there are still other influences that need to be mentioned. Spangenberg, Macarius, Ephraem Syrus, and the November, 1736, letter to his brother Samuel, have been selected as representative.

Spangenberg (and later Peter Bohler) exhibited a kind of synthesis between mystical piety on the one hand and the theology of the continental reformers on the other.'? Spangenberg's self-styled '"mysticism'' must have appealed to Wesley.

He recommended a completely passive attitude extremely close to the mystical writers.2° The internal witness of the Spirit, however, was to be appropriated through faith in Jesus Christ.

There was no dark night. This was Wesley's first real opportunity to gain insight into the impasse relative to works and faith

(between the Aristotelian means and the Platonic ends) but he was "too learned and too wise.'" Again he might have responded by faith in the evangelical sense, but his bouts with '8This will be demonstrated at some length in Part Il.

2The Moravians dotted all the "i's'' in Lutheran theology and consequently taught that there could be no salvation by any action or work.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology the enemy on board ship had done him little good. He seized upon Spangenberg's mystical Quietism, but then substituted his own "'inner'"' works-righteousness for the Moravian faith in Christ. As we anticipate the reversal of that order a few years later, we are encouraged, but for the time being, Georgia was just another mystical experiment.?!

Georgia was not a total loss, however. Several of the mystics would teach Wesley much about his doctrine of perfection

(especially as it related to perseverance). This would carry through to the Revival even after the ''final'' break with mysticism was made. Both Macarius and Ephraem Syrus, for example, provided him with significant insight into the concept of dynamic, or ongoing, perfection.

Macarius' doctrine of progress in the Christian life (closely linked with his insistence on moral purification) hinged on the efficacy of the experiences of struggle against sin, and sought to make strong spiritual warriors out of mere struggling

Christians.2? A significant spinoff from this relates to the influence of Macarius regarding the discipline of perseverance. Macarius taught that after receiving the Holy Spirit one needed to improve the gift imparted in order to persevere.??

Macarius speaks of the degrees or stages of perfection. He writes that 'sometimes the love flames out and kindles with greater strength; but at other times more slow and gentle.''24

Eventually, however, the humble soul is received into the ''mystical fellowship in the fullness of grace.''5 This filling of the Holy Spirit implies an entire redemption from sin, but perfection is gradual: 'there are heights which the soul does not reach all at once; but through many labors and conflicts,

-?1By February, 1738, Wesley would be ready to listen to the other side of the Moravian synthesis, but it would take someone like Bohler, who understood Wesley's mystical mind, to lead him from it.

Macarius was born in Egypt in a.0. 301. He became well-acquainted with the Scriptures at an early age, and his seriousness earned him the title of - "the young old man" by the time he was thirty. Following his banishment to an island, he practiced the exercise of religious solitude for the next sixty years, until his death in a.p. 391.

3Most of the references here to Macarius are taken from Wesley's Extract in the Christian Library, entitled: Primitive Morality: or the Spiritual

Homilies of St. Macarius the Egyptian, Vol. |.

4Wesley, Christian Library, Vol. |, p. 102.

The Analysis, Part II

with variety of trials and temptations, it receives spiritual growth and improvement.''?¢ Although Wesley on occasion spoke of ''instantaneous sanctification" (that is, one grows gradually to the moment of full delivery), he certainly appreciated Macarius' emphasis on continual growth. Macarius taught that no matter how high the state of perfection, one could always grow in grace.' In short, it was foolish to boast that one has no sin (even if sinless), since one must grow to persevere.

Macarius' caution against backsliding (remember Wesley was also reading Macarius before the crisis at Frederica) also greatly appealed to Wesley. Although he strongly emphasized the grace of God, this grace was clearly not irresistible.

Macarius answers the questions as to whether one can fall from grace in this manner. ''If he (the Christian) grows careless, he certainly falls. For his enemies are never idle, or backward in the war. How ought you then never to desist from seeking after God? For the damage which you sustained by your neglect is exceeding great tho' you may even seem to be established in the mystery of grace.''?8 What better treatise could Wesley use to remedy the backsliding in Georgia?

As we noted in chapter 10, Macarius was reinforced along these same lines by Ephraem Syrus. Wesley read Ephraem's A Serious Exhortation to Repentance and Sorrow for Sin, and a Strict and Mortified Life (written about the middle of the fourth century and translated into English in 1731) to Sophy and to several of his parishioners with the intention of reawakening their relish for spiritual things.2? Ephraem's logic can best be seen in several characteristics of his mystical theology. This theology and his own particular mode of life is described in his comments on Elijah where he gives three reasons why God commanded Elijah to flee, to seek the cave, and to hide himself in a valley known by no one. First, he must suffer in order to 26Ibid., p. 107.

27lbid., pp. 112ff.

28Ibid., p. 109. Wesley's Extract is almost verbatim.

29This 1731 edition of Ephraem is discussed in Nichol, Literary Anecdotes, i, 472; Mosheim, Ecclesiastical History, p. 135; and Mosheim, History of the Christian Church, Vol. 2, p. 88.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology understand the suffering of others. Second, after the turmoil of the ''ambassador's office,'' he needed the silence of contemplation in the wilderness in order to reevaluate his life relative to the times of prayer and labor. And finally, he must learn the need of prayer and supplication with labor, the need of entreaty with zeal.3° Ephraem spent a considerable time in the desert of Egypt drinking deep from the cup of self-inflicted suffering. Morris states that it is the prerogative of Christianity to blend the active and contemplative life 'and nowhere do they seem more thoroughly blended than in the mind of St.

Ephraem."'3? The whole of Ephraem's works anticipates a style of devotional contemplation. His mysticism, however, extends beyond an attraction to suffering and contemplation. Take his

Rhythms, for example. The word ''rhythm'' is a word in the Syriac frequently employed to express ""a mystical commentary" on the text of Scripture, and Wesley's mention (May 21,

1761) of Ephraem's story about Abraham and Mary is no doubt a reference to an example of this type of commentary. Ephraem also spoke of days past and future as if they were present time.

He believed that since one's mystical union with God enabled him to view things as God views them (and for God time is as nothing), he should view the unabidingness of time.3? Wesley's opinion of Ephraem at this time is expressed in his Journal for October 16, 1736: 'I read to them (the backsliders of Frederica) out of the exhortations of Ephraem Syrus—the most awakened writer, | think, of all the ancients.''23 Both Ephraem and Macarius continued to have an influence on Wesley long after Aldersgate.>4 For the present, however, Wesley, although no doubt intrigued with many aspects of their mysticism, was most impressed with the ''picture of a broken and contrite

Syrus, Rhythms of Saint Ephraem the Syrian or Select Works of Saint Ephraem the Syrian, translated out of the original Syriac with notes and indices by J. B. Morris (1847), pp. xiiiff.

"bid., p. xv.

2Ibid., pp. Tf.

33Journal, Vol. |, p. 284.

"The Minutes of the first Methodist Conference recommended Ephraem to the assistants. The Rules of the United Societies also carry the mark of Ephraem and Macarius (Outler, John Wesley, pp. 143ff.). Outler also emphasizes the role of Macarius and Ephraem in the development of Wesley's doctrine of perfection (p. 9n; pp. 250-52). Cf. Wesley's Address to the Clergy

(1756, in the Works, Vol. X, p. 484)

The Analysis, Part II

15D heart'' linked with a thoroughly dynamic concept of perfection.35 It is no coincidence that these two desert Fathers should appear just at this time emphasizing this particular point of view. Wesley's absolute rule of religion was breaking down under the "'trial by fire." His static approach to Christianity was not standing the test of practical experience. His parishioners, in his presence and under his leadership, responded to his rigid discipline, but, in his absence the conviction soon wore off and they fell away. The mysticism of Macarius and Ephraem, therefore, gave him a brief glimmer of hope.

Albert Outler believes that Macarius and Ephraem probably first interested Wesley in perfection (they were certainly known long before Georgia). Ephraem appears in the Oxford

Diary for 1732 and Wesley surely knew Macarius by this time, if not through William Law (who was strongly influenced by Macarius), then through someone else. At any rate, Macarius and Ephraem were the mystics to whom Wesley now pinned his faith. Both are vitally important at this particular time.

Before leaving the Analysis for Part Il, a word of clarification needs to be said regarding the important letter to his brother

Samuel, dated November 23, 1736, in which Wesley's condemnation of the mystics as the "rock upon which he nearly made shipwreck'' should not be interpreted as his final break with mysticism. He continued to read and study them carefully

(although with some declining interest) until his return to England some fourteen months later. The issue here is one of degree. Earlier his only objection had been against their strictness, but more recently that had been rescinded. Now he challenges their neglect of the means of grace (especially the German mystics expounded by Law, since the Roman Catholics like de Renty did not have this problem) amidst their inner exercise.3© A passive dark night was too much for a man duty-bound. Faith in Christ, however, was still misunderstood.

Although he had begun to move in the right direction, the crisis and victory was yet to come. That is the story of Part III.

35Journal, Vol. Ill, p. 284.

36By means of grace, Wesley means particularly the Lord's Supper. Since the Roman Catholic mystics continued to hold a high regard for these means, this would explain the relative consistency of their continued influence later on.

tok as Feit te PA

Bibliography, Part II"

Primary Sources John Wesley, Journal, Curnock, ed.

, Letters, Telford, ed.

, The Works of the Rev. John Wesley, M.A. (Printed by William Pine, Bristol, 1771-74), 32 vols.

The Works of John Wesley, A.M., 3rd ed., with last corrections of the author; Thomas Jackson, ed. (182931); (see also Works [Grand Rapids, Mich., 1958-59], a reprint of the Jackson ed.). 14 vols.

, A Concise Ecclesiastical History, 4 vols.

, A Concise History of England, 4 vols.

, A Collection of Forms of Prayer for Every Day in the Week. London (1733).

Green, Richard, Bibliography.

Union Catalogue of Publications.

Secondary Sources Abbey, C. J., The English Church and Its Bishops. a= and) Overton, |. no. Tne Enoish Church i.the Eighteenth Century.

Baker, E. W., Herald of the Evangelical Revival. London (1948). This is an interesting study of William Law.

Baker, Frank, Charles Wesley.

"Study of Wesley's Readings,'"" LOHR.

, 'Wesley's Puritan Ancestry,'" LOHR.

Baxter, Richard, The Practical Works. London (1830). (Bibliography by A. G. Matthews, Oxford, 1932).

Cannon, William R., The Theology of John Wesley. New York/Nashville (1946).

Castaniza, Juan de, The Spiritual Combat.

Coke, Thomas and Moore, H., Life.

Coulter, E. Merton, and Saye, Albert B., A List of the Early Settlers in Georgia. Athens, Ga. (1949).

Cyprian, The Writings of Cyprian in the Ante-Nicene Christian Library. Edinburgh (1868).

1Those works that appear here in abbreviated form are given in fullin the Bibliography, Part I.

Bibliography Edwards, M. L., Family Circle.

, Sons to Samuel.

, The Astonishing Youth.

Francois de Salignac de La Mothe, Dissertation on Pure Love. London (1735).

, The Maxims of the Saints, Explained Concerning the Interior Life (1698).

, Pastoral Letter Concerning the Love of God, Robert Nelson, ed. (1715).

, On Simplicity.

Fries, A. L., The Moravians in Georgia. Raleigh, N. C.

(1905).

Francke, August Hermann, Pietas Hauensis; or, An Abstract of the Marvellous Footsteps of Divine Providence ..

. to Which Is Added a Short History of Pietism, 2nd ed. (1707).

, Nicodemus: Or a Treatise Against the Fear of Man, Done Into English by A. W. Boehme, Ed. (1731).

Godley, A. D., Oxford in the Eighteenth Century (1908).

Green, Brazier, John Wesley and William Law. London (1945).

Green, Richard, John Wesley.

Green, V. H. H., The Young Mr. Wesley.

, John Wesley.

Harmon, Rebecca, Susanna, Mother of the Wesleys.

Jackson, Thomas, Life of Charles Wesley.

Kempis, Thomas a, The Christian Pattern.

Law, William, Works.

Léger, A., La Jeunesse de Wesley.

Monk, R. C., John Wesley: His Puritan Heritage.

Moore, Henry, Life.

Newton, John A., Methodism and the Puritans.

, Susanna and the Puritan Tradition.

Orcibal, Jean, "Les Spirituels francois et espagnols chez John Wesley et ses contemporains," in Revue de I' Histoire des Religions, Vol. 139 (1951), pp. 50-109.

Overton, J. H., John Wesley.

, William Law, Nonjurer and Mystic. London (192730), 2 vols.

, The Nonjurers. London (1902).

Bibliography

Rupp, E. Gordon, Making of the Protestant Tradition.

Saint-Jure, John Baptist de, The Holy Life of Monsieur de Renty. Translated by E. S. Gent. London (1657).

Schmidt, Martin, John Wesley, Vol. I.

Scougal, Henry, The Life of God in the Soul of Man.

Simon, J.S., John Wesley and the Religious Societies. London (1921).

Southey, Robert, Life. 2 vols.

Stevenson, George, Memorials of the Wesley Family.

Syrus, Ephraem, Rhythms of Saint Ephraem the Syrian.

Translated by J. B. Morris (1847).

, Devotional Tracts Concerning the Presence of God and Other Religious Subjects. London (1724).

, On Repentance.

Taylor, Jeremy, Works.

Telford, John, Life Theologia Germanica, Pfeiffer ed. London (1907).

Tuttle, Robert G., Jr., "Influence of the Roman Catholic Mystics on Wesley."

Tyerman, Luke, Life of Samuel Wesley.

, Life of John Wesley.

, The Oxford Methodists. New York (1873).

, The Life of the Rev. George Whitefield. London (1890).

Vulliamy, C. E., John Wesley.

Wakefield, Gordon S., Puritan Devotion.

Wesley, Charles, Journal. Telford, ed.

Wesley, Samuel, Letter From a Country Divine.

, Lhe Pious Communicant.

Wesley Historical Society, Publications and Proceedings.

Whitehead, John, Life.

Wilson, D. Dunn, "The Influence of Mysticism on John Wesley.'"" An unpublished dissertation (Leeds University, 1968).

Woodward, Josiah, An Account of the Rise and Progress of the Religious Societies in the City of London...

. and of Their Endeavours for the Reformation of Manners, 3rd ed.

(1712).

Part III Aldersgate

Setting the Stage Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 3:13,14 This evening I am in Birmingham. It is Saturday, March 22, 1788. Tomorrow is Easter. I last left you in Gloucester where Wednesday morning I was up at 4:00 and, after prayer, wrote letters until 8:00. I then had tea and conversed, after which I seized a few precious moments for prayer before transacting some business.

By 9:30 I was in my carriage heading north to Tewkesbury. As I approached the town, I could see the meadow where years earlier I had preached under a tall oak tree. !

For some years now, this has been one of the liveliest places on the circuit.2 These people are remarkably teachable.3 I arrived at 11:30, and by 12:00, in spite of the noon market, the preaching house, built just over ten years ago, was overfilled so that many could not get in. However, those who did were deeply attentive so that more and more are continually convinced and converted to God.#

The text for my sermon on that occasion was John 9:4: "'T must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work." Christ, the light of the world, looked down from heaven and "his

1Works, Vol. IV, p. 25.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology arrows went abroad.''> I have seldom seen persons more sensibly struck. They gathered closer together, until there was not one inattentive hearer and hardly one unaffected.

After dinner I conversed, but was back in my carriage by 2:00. I arrived at Worcester at 4:30 where, after tea, I conversed and prayed before preaching at 6:00 from the same text I had used at noon. I once preached there in a friend's barn, as it was too cold for the people to stand outdoors.

Now we have a preaching house, this one built about sixteen years ago, but it is too small to hold the congregation as the Methodists there have ''by well doing put to silence the ignorance of foolish men; so that they are now abundantly more in danger by honour than by dishonour.' This was not always the case. Time is as an arrow passing through the air. For a while our work might have been hindered by riotous mobs. I remember nearly twenty years ago our brethren in Worcester had chosen a place for me, in a broad street not far from the cathedral, where there was room for thousands of people. We soon had company enough, part serious, part like the wild ass's colt; but in a while the serious part prevailed and they silenced or drove away the rabble until we had a degree of quietness, and we concluded in peace.' Each time it seems trouble brewed Satan could come so far, but no farther. The time came when I was accepted with some ceremony (how fickle the eyes of men). During my northern journey in 1784, for example, "I preached to a crowded audience, in St. Andrew's Church. The Vicar read Prayers, and afterwards told meI should be welcome to the use of his church, whenever I came to Worcester,'" which I did again some months later.§ Perhaps the time has arrived when the whole of England, like the rector of this parish, no doubt with some surprise "having never dreamed before that there was such a thing as common sense among the Methodists," will acknowledge the finger of God. The SWorks, Vol. IIL, p. 405.

®Works, Vol. IV, p. 409.

7Works, Vol. III, p. 440.

8Works, Vol. IV, p. 268; cf. p. 285.

Setting the Stage

society there, 'by patient continuance in well-doing, has quite overcome evil with good; even the beasts of the people are now tame, and open not their mouths against them. They profited much when the waves and storms went over them: May they profit as much by the calm!''?

Immediately following the sermon in Worcester, I met with our Society. For several years the Select Society had been all of one heart and one mind; they were so closely united together that I have scarce seen the like in the kingdom. How swiftly God deepened His work in them!

They are a loving people of about one hundred members demonstrating that God has saved them from inward as well as outward sin. "I have seen very few, either in Bristol or London, who are more clear in their experience. The account all whom I had time to examine gave, was scriptural and rational: And, suppose they spoke true, they are witnesses of the Perfection which I preach. Yet, that they may fall therefrom I know; but that they must, I utterly deny."'1° After supper at 8:00, I prayed myself to bed.

On Thursday, I was not up until 5:00, but before 8:00 I had preached a sermon on Isaiah 40:1: "Comfort ye my people, saith your God," transacted some business, and had written a letter to Charles' daughter, Sarah, with some remedies for her father.!! The sermon itself, as was the practice of the prophet Isaiah, was both warning and promise. The warning was the example of morning preaching, which they had left for some months causing consid- °Works, Vol. IV, p. 104.

10Works, Vol. Ill, p. 388.

114 copy of the letter is included here both to demonstrate Wesley's manner of writing as well as his interest in medical cures.

Pay, My dear Sally:

Worcester, March 20

Mr. Whitefield had for a considerable time thrown up all the food he took. I advised him to slit a large onion across the grain and bind it warm on the pit of his stomach. He vomited no more.

Pray apply this to my brother's stomach the next time he eats. One in Yorkshire, who was dying for want of food, as she threw up all she took, was saved by the following means: boiled crusts of white bread to the consistence of a jelly; add a few drops of lemon juice and a little loaf sugar; take a spoonful once or twice an hour.

By all means let him try this. If neither of these avail (which I think

John Wesley: His Life and Theology erable damage.!" The promise was from the Scripture text which sought to comfort those who determined to give up sin and continue in the way of perfect love.

I had tea at 8:00, and then conversed, prayed, and prepared a sermon on Hebrews 10:31: "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." After dinner, at 1:00,

I found time to meditate and pray before reading over the biographical notes I want to share with you in a moment.

At 4:30 I took tea, conversed, and prayed before preaching at 6:00 the sermon prepared earlier on Hebrews 10:31. We again considered the warning (the avenging justice of God), and the promise (the forgiveness available to all who diligently call upon Him). After the service, I met with our bands (smaller groups within the Society), supped at 8:00 and again prayed myself to bed.

Yesterday I was up at 4:00, prayed, and began a sermon on Hebrews 9:13,14: 'For if the blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of an heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh: how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?" At 7:00 I snatched a few moments for meditation before tea and a short visit with friends concluding with a prayer for the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. By 9:00 I was back in my carriage, arriving at Stourport (a small, newly built village) at 11:00 in time to spend an hour completing the sermon on Hebrews 9:13,14 which I preached at noon to a large congregation. We considered the merit of Christ's sufferings who, through the Spirit, offered Himself sinless to God. will not be the case), remember the lady at Paris who lived several weeks without swallowing a grain by applying thin slices of beef to the stomach. But above all, let prayer be made continually; and probably he will be stronger after this illness than he has been these ten years. Is anything too hard for God? On Sunday I am to be at Birmingham; on Sunday Se'nnight, at Madeley, near Shifnal, Salop. My dear Sally, Adieu!

To Miss Wesley, in Chesterfield Street Marylebone, London.

Although these remedies seem quite primitive, many of Wesley's cures have been proven to be quite helpful.

12Works, Vol. IV, p. 145.

Setting the Stage

"The work of redemption being the work of the whole Trinity. Neither is the Second Person alone concerned even in the amazing condescension that was needful to complete it. The Father delivers up the kingdom to the Son; and the Holy Ghost becomes the gift of the Messiah, being, as it were, according to his good pleasure.''1° You might have thought that some of those present were as ignorant of the nature of religion as a Hottentot. 'They seemed to be all serious and attentive as long as I was speaking; but the moment I ceased, fourscore or one hundred began talking all at once. I do not remember ever to have been present at such a scene before. This must be amended; otherwise (if I should live) I will see Stourport no more." 4

My, how this little village has grown. Twenty years ago there was but one house, whereas now there are two or three streets. Almost a decade ago, Mr. Cowell, a local coal merchant, built us a preaching house which was then taken over by the Calvinists, so that the Arminian

Methodists were turned out. In the name of Jesus we kill each other. I remember writing to a friend a few years past:

"You have admirably well expressed what I mean by an opinion, contra-distinguished from an essential doctrine.

Whatever is 'compatible with love to Christ, and a work of grace,' I term an opinion. And certainly the holding Particular Election and Final Perseverance is compatible with these. 'Yet what fundamental errors,' you ask, 'have you opposed with half that fervency as you have these opinions?'—I have printed nearly fifty sermons, and only one of these opposes them at all. I preach about 800 sermons in a year; and, taking one year with another, for twenty years past, I have not preached eight sermons in a year upon the subject.''*5 Rather than go to law over the matter, Mr. Cowell built another house, larger and more convenient, where after an afternoon meditating, dining, conversing, sermonwriting, at prayer and at tea, I preached again at 6:00 on I 13Wesley, Notes on the New Testament, p. 835.

14Works, Vol. IV, p. 482.

18SWorks, Vol. Ill, p. 211.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology

Corinthians 1:24: "But unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God." With these words I sought to mend our walls.

Several clergymen were present and were as attentive as any. There remains throughout the kingdom a core of honorable clergymen both candid and sensible, who would listen, at least in part; whereas others would still have Methodists to the man hoisted from the nearest scaffold. "It would be excusable, if these menders of the Bible would offer their hypotheses modestly. But one cannot excuse them when they not only obtrude their novel scheme with the utmost confidence, but even ridicule that scriptural one which always was, and is now, held by men of the greatest learning and piety in the world. Hereby they promote the cause of infidelity more effectually than either

Hume or Voltaire.'"16 No matter, God is still God, andif we were not plowing in the sand, I anticipate a deep work of the Spirit in Stourport.

Immediately after preaching, I served communion, then had supper, conversed, and prayed before bed at 9:30. Just before dropping off to sleep, I meditated on Philippians

3:13,14: 'Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus."

This morning I was up at 4:00, praying and writing a sermon on Philippians 3:13,14 (the verses given to me the night before) before taking to my Carriage, arriving at Kidderminster at 7:15, in time for tea at Mr. Pochimlister's.

After tea, I meditated and prayed with a few serious and pious friends, genuine Methodists.

At 9:00 I was back in my carriage, arriving at Quinton (five miles from Birmingham) at 11:30, where I paused (at our new preaching house) to call upon the name of God for an outpouring of His eternal Spirit upon these needy people.

Back in my carriage, I arrived at Birmingham where *°Works, Vol. III, p. 504.

Setting the Stage

there is a glorious increase in the work of God. The Society here has grown to more than 800, so that it is at present inferior to none in England, except those in London and Bristol. For a time this was a dry, uncomfortable place where I expected to do little good. 1" Even the old preaching house was dreary, plagued by a thin, dull congregation; but I should have known that "I did not go a warfare at my own cost.''!8 In time, the power of God was imminently present so that there was not a scoffer, not a trifler, not an inattentive person (so far as I could discern) left among them. Eventually God caused even this barren wilderness to blossom and bud as the rose.12 Who knows, if God is here, it may continue!

After dinner, I conversed and wrote letters. Much of my work I do by letter because I frequently do not have the opportunity of talking with many face to face; because "' can write more freely than I could speak; because I can by this method say all I have to say at once; whereas, if we were talking together, I might probably forget some part, and because you may by this means have the better opportunity of calmly considering [my advice].''?°

This afternoon (at 4:15) I felt the need for prayer before tea. After tea I conversed and prayed before preaching the sermon on Philippians 3:13,14. I sought to enforce those words: "I do not account myself to have apprehended this already; to be already possessed of perfect holiness. Forgetting the things that are behind—Even that part of the race which is already run. And reaching forth unto—Literally, stretched out over the things that are before —Pursuing with the whole bent and vigor of my soul perfect holiness and eternal glory.''?! The intent of this sermon was twofold.

One, that "it is impossible that any should retain what they receive, without improving it."?? The good people here, though God has bared His arm and they have beheld

17Works, Vol. II, p. 165.

18 Works, Vol. III, p. 504; cf. Vol. IV, p. 231.

19Works, Vol. II, p. 165.

20Works, Vol. III, p. 368.

21Wesley, Notes on the New Testament, p. 735.

22Works, Vol. Ill, p. 204.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology

His strength (as well as His glory), must persevere or perish. Two, much of the seed which has been sown for these many years has been sorely tempted by the fierce, unclean, brutish, blasphemous Antinomians. The mystic foxes have also taken pains to spoil what remains.23 What havoc would these two opposite extremes, Mysticism and Antinomianism, make among this earnest and simple people! It would have been better for those men not to have been born, by whom these little ones have been offended."4 I will set down here the conversation (some forty years later) with one so deceived that every serious person may see the true picture of Antinomianism full grown; and may know what these men mean by their favorite phrase, of being ''perfect in Christ, not in themselves."

""Do you believe you have nothing to do with the Law of God?' 'T have not: I am not under the Law: I live by faith.'

'Have you, as living by faith, a right to every thing in the world?' 'I have: All is mine, since Christ is mine.' 'May you, then, take anything you will any where? Suppose, out of a shop, without the consent or the knowledge of the owner?' 'I may, if I want it: For it is mine: Only I will not give offence.' 'Have you alsoa right to all the women in the world?' 'Yes, if they consent.' 'And is not that a sin?' 'Yes, to him that thinks it is a sin: But not to those whose hearts are free.' ... Surely these are the first-born children of Satan!''?5 Bless God, such matters are now laid to rest. That such wild boars may never again root up that which God has planted, I preach perfect holiness now as I always have these fifty years.

Tam alone with my thoughts for I now want to take some time with you to pick up our narrative left off in Gloucester.

Supper has just this moment been completed and tomorrow is Easter. Not until an experience at Aldersgate, however, did I realize fully that He had risen for me.

23Works, Vol. II, p. 324.

4Works, Vol. II, p. 397.

Ibid, peal:

EZ The Journey Home I went to convert others, who will convert me. Who, what is he that will deliver me from this evil heart of unbelief: I have a fair summer religion. I can talk well; nay, and believe myself, while no danger is near. But let death look me in the face, and my spirit is troubled.

John Wesley After nearly fifty years, the experience at Aldersgate is almost legend. Since legends are so prone to abuse, let me tell you the story as | remember it, making a few comments

(for interpretation) along the way to put it into proper perspective.

Let me begin by recounting the events of my return journey from Georgia to England. On Thursday, December

22, 1737, I went on board the Samuel. Two days later we sailed over Charlestown bar, and about noon lost sight of land. I took my leave of America, fully expecting to return, but such has not been the providence of God.

These were torturous days. Almost immediately I was stricken by a sickening fear of some unknown danger since the wind was light and the sea smooth. How true that wise maxim of Solomon: "The wicked flee when no man pursueth: but the righteous are bold as a lion." I knew in my head (to use the words of St. Paul) that "to die is gain" and "that all things work together for good to them that love

God," yet my heart (usually a decade or so behind) made mockery of these cardinal Christian doctrines. I remember

John Wesley: His Life and Theology asking myself: 'Do I, in fact, love God enough?""! I certainly did not have that "perfect love' written about by the mystic authors but who offered (apart from their religious exercises) little or no means for achieving it.

Christmas Day I was seasick, so much so that I could find relief only by lying down. The next day, however, I resolved to return to my old simple diet of no wine nor meat; and after I did so, neither my stomach nor my head complained of the motion of the ship.

Then soon after New Year's, in the fullness of my heart, I wrote the following words: "By the most infallible of proofs, inward feeling, I am convinced, 1. Of unbelief; having no such faith in Christ as will prevent my heart from being troubled; which it could not be, if I rightly believed in God. 2. Of pride throughout my life past; inasmuch as I thought I had what I find I have not. 3. Of gross irrecollections; inasmuch as in a storm I cried to God every moment, in a calm, not. 4. Of levity and luxuriancy of spirit, recurring whenever the pressure is taken off, and appearing by my speaking words not to edify.

"Lord, save, or I perish! Save me:

1. By such a faith as implies peace in life and in death. 2. By such humility as may fill my heart from this hour forever, with a piercing uninterrupted sense that, nihil est quod hactenus feci (what! have hitherto done is nothing); having evidently built without a foundation. 3. By such a recollection as may cry to thee every moment, especially when all is calm: give me faith, orl die; givemea lowly spirit; otherwise, mihi non sit suave vivere (let life be a burden to me). 4. By steadiness, seriousness, 9€vOtec (holiness), sobriety of spirit; avoiding, as fire, every word that tendeth not to edifying; and never speaking of any who oppose me, without all my

Own sins set in array before my face.''"2

"Wesley was continually plagued by this thought long after Aldersgate. On June 27, 1766, for example (nearly thirty years later), he wrote to his brother, Charles: ''[I do not love God. I never did. |' He then adds: ''[I never] believed in the Christian sense of the word. Therefore | am only an honest heathen, a proselyte of the Temple, one of the popovueva tov Oéov" (those that fear God). He continues: "I want all the world tocome to"

6votvx oida " (what I do not know.) Letters, Vol. V, pp. 15ff. The words in brackets were in shorthand.

Journal, Vol. I, pp. 415f. The punctuation has been slichtlv altered.

The Journey Home

Such was my condition. I hovered between two worlds.

I desired a faith that would prosper even under the prospect of death; but, again, my instinctive reaction (not yet overcome) was to turn to the mystics.* By January 6

I had completed the abridgement of Mr. de Renty's Life.4 Following his advice, I wanted to withdraw that God might somehow find me. So, when I went to speak to the sailors, I could not. Yet, what little relief I did experience came from enforcing God's Word. I finally managed to read and explain some passages to the cabin boy, and then to a young Negro, then to a Frenchman who could speak with no one but me since he knew no English, and eventually preached to all my fellow travelers so that my spirit revived.

This, then, was my dilemma. It was apparent that I still suffered from a lack of faith complicated by almost constant ridicule from my enemy—the fear of death. I wrote in my

Journal some weeks later: ''I think, verily, if the Gospel be true, I am safe: For I not only have given, and do give, all my goods to feed the poor; I not only give my body to be burned, drowned, or whatever God shall appoint for me; but I follow after charity, (though not as I ought, yet as I can,) if haply I may attain it. I now believe the Gospel is true. 'Ishow my faith by my works,' by staking my all upon it. I would do so again and again a thousand times, if the choice were still to make. Whoever sees me, sees I would be a Christian. Therefore 'are my ways not like other men's ways.' Therefore I have been, I am, I am content to be, 'a by-word, a proverb of reproach.' But in a storm I think,

'what if the Gospel be not true? Then thou art of all men most foolish. For what hast thou given thy goods, thy ease, thy friends, thy reputation, thy country, thy life? For what art thou wandering over the face of the earth? a dream, "a cunningly-devised fable!' O! Who will deliver me from this fear of death? What shall Ido? Where shall I fly from it?

3Unfortunately the Diary is missing from September 1, 1737 to March 31, 1738, although the fact that Fleury (a mystic) appears at the point where the Diary leaves off and de Renty appears soon after it begins again is indicative.

4Jt has been mentioned that this was to be published in 1741.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Should I fight against it by thinking, or (as during my days at Oxford prior to my religious conversion) by not thinking obite = Where was I to find peace? Had I not sought diligently to obey every commandment? Why this agony? I had the option of accepting the mystic explanation that God was withholding His Spirit intentionally in order to insure an ultimate union dependent upon pure love; or, of admitting that everything I had done thus far was for nothing. To put it another way, should I be content with my misery and hold on to the fleeting hope (I who had so much invested) that I was on the brink of divine union where light would flood my soul and give me the coveted awareness of God

(de Renty's "experimental verity")? Or, should I go back and start afresh? Some years since ''a wise man" advised me to "be still, and go on.''® Once again (an amazing fact), I considered sinking wholly into mysticism; but then, a second major crisis was reached.'

On Monday, January 9, I decided that that which had pursued me for so many years, of being in solitude in order to be a Christian, was vain desire.

I had had then, I thought, after Wroot and Georgia and to an extent even the cloisters of Oxford, solitude enough. Had solitude brought me nearer to being a Christian? Not if Jesus Christ was the model! "I doubt, indeed, I was much nearer that mystery of Satan which some writers affect to call by that name. So near that I had probably sunk wholly into it had not the great mercy of God just now thrown me upon reading St.

Cyprian's works. 'Oh my soul, come not thou into their secret!'''® Cyprian had a sobering effect. He combined much of the gold found in both 4 Kempis and Taylor— ecclesiastic order, a high regard for the sacraments, even a rigid ascetism—with none of the dross. There was no room here for the dreamy speculative genius of the East. As I *Works, Vol. I, pp. 74f. The words in the second pair of parentheses are not a part of the original text.

Vol.I, p. 418. This "wise man" was no doubt William Law.

7The first crisis was the letter to Samuel, November, 1736.

Vol. I, p. 416. "Mystery of Satan' refers to the mystical scheme involving "solitude" and the 'dark night of the soul."

The Journey Home

deliberated as to whether my misfortune was due to some "dark night" divinely imposed or to some transgression that lay within myself, I read the words of St. Cyprian: ""We must confess that this calamity riseth chiefly of our own wickedness, while we walk not in the way of the Lord.'

Here was my answer! There was no vision, the battle had not been won, but I was beginning to understand. From this moment I would see more and more clearly that mystic

"darkness" had its roots in sin, not in God.

"On Friday, January 13, we had a thorough storm, which obliged us to shut all close, the sea breaking over the ship continually. I was at first afraid (the enemy would hardly have missed an opportunity such as this), but cried to God, and was strengthened. Before ten I laid down; I bless God, without fear. About midnight we were awakened by a confused noise of seas and wind and men's voices, the likes of which I have never heard before. The sound of the sea breaking over and against the side of the ship, I could compare to nothing except large cannon or American thunder. The rebounding, starting, quivering motion of the ship much resembled what is said of earthquakes. The captain was upon deck in an instant. But his men could not hear what he said. It blew a proper hurricane; which beginning at southwest, then went west, northwest, north, and, in a quarter of an hour, round by the east to the southwest point again. At the same time, the sea running

(as they term it) mountain-high, and that from many different points at once, the ship would not obey the helm; nor indeed could the steersman, through the violent rain, see the compass. So he was forced to let her run before the wind, and soon the stress of the storm was over.

"About noon the next day it ceased. But first I had resolved, God being my helper, not only to preach it to all, but to apply the word of God to every single soul on the 9This quotation is found in Wesley's own extract, Acts of the Christian

Martyrs, included in the Christian Library, Vol. Il, pp. 272ff. Wesley was especially taken by Cyprian's heroism during the Diocletian persecution and by his exhortation to works of mercy, prayer, and fasting. Cf. the Writings of Cyprian in the Ante-Nicene Christian Library, Vol. I, pp.

1-20.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology ship; and if but one, yea, if not one of them will hear, I know 'my labour is not in vain.'''1° I had no sooner executed this resolution than my spirit was once again revived. I wrote in my Journal: "I ama sensible one who thinks the being in orco [the mystic darkness], as they phrase it, an indispensable preparative for being a Christian, would say, I had better have continued in that state; and that this unseasonable relief was a curse, not a blessing. Nay, but who art thou, oh man, who, in favor of a wretched hypothesis, thus blasphemest the good gift of God? Hath not he himself said, 'This also is the gift of God, if a man hath power to rejoice in his labour?' Yea, God setteth his own seal to man's weak endeavors, while he thus answereth him in the joy of his heartt4 On Wednesday, February 1, at 4:00 in the morning, we landed at Deal. It was then almost two years and four months since I had left my native country in order to teach the Georgia Indians the nature of Christianity. I remember writing at that time what] have already briefly confessed to you before: "I went to convert others, who will convert me?

Who, what is he that will deliver me from this evil heart of unbelief? I have a fair summer religion. I can talk well; nay, and believe myself, while no danger is near. But let death look me in the face, and my spirit is troubled.''12

Friends, I am even today uncertain as to how best to interpret those words. Iam sure (as you shall soon see) that God would not have left me in such a state, having even then the faith of a servant though not of ason.13 These were not the thoughts of a mad man, however. These were the words of truth and soberness and I share the following with you now that some who still dream may awake, and see, that as I was, so are they.

Vol. I, p. 73. The words in the first pair of parentheses are not a part of the original text.

UIbid., p. 74.

2 Tbid.

Wesley changed his opinion later in life concerning some of the judgments expressed in these paragraphs. In his sermon "On Faith" he describes the difference between the faith of a servant and the faith of a son. Both are saving faith though the former lacks full assurance. On

The Journey Home 177.

"Are they read in philosophy? So was I. In ancient or modern tongues? So was I also. Are they versed in the science of divinity? I too had studied it many years. Can they talk fluently upon spiritual things? The very same could I do. Are they plenteous in alms? Behold, I gave all my goods to feed the poor. Do they give of their labor as well as of their substance? I had labored more abundantly than they all. Are they willing to suffer for their brethren? I had thrown up my friends, reputation, ease, country; I had put my life in my hand, wandering into strange lands; I had given my body to be devoured by the deep, parched up with heat, consumed by toil and weariness, or whatsoever God should have pleased to bring upon me. But did all this—be it more or less, it matters not—make me acceptable to God? Does all I ever did or can know, say, give, do, or suffer, justify me in His sight? Yea, or the constant use of all means of grace? (which, nevertheless, is meet, right and our bounden duty). Or that I knew nothing of myself; that I was, as touching outward, moral righteousness, blameless? Or (to come closer yet) to having a rational conviction of all the truths of Christianity? Did all this give me a claim to the holy, heavenly, divine character of a Christian? By no means. If the oracles of God are true; if we are still to abide by the Scriptures, all these things, though, when ennobled by faith in Christ, 14 they are holy and just and good, yet without it, 'dung and dross,' meet only to be purged away by 'the fire that shall never be quenched."

Today I would temper these words with some years of wisdom, realizing that I had more faith than I was aware.

This is what I believed at the time: 'that I 'was fallen short of the glory of God;' that my whole heart was 'altogether corrupt and abominable'; and consequently my whole life board ship, however, and for some years following Aldersgate (cf. his sermon "The Almost Christian'') Wesley believed that he lacked saving faith. Then, some years later, he interprets servant faith (his experience between 1725 and 1738) as saving faith. Cf. Sermons, Vol. I, pp. 60f, n. lsh 144Wesley's own footnote inserted here reads: "I had even then the faith of a servant, though not of a son.

185Works, Vol. I, p. 76.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology (seeing it cannot be that an 'evil tree' should 'bring forth good fruit'): that, 'alienated' as I was from the life of God, I was 'a child of wrath,'?° an heir of hell: that my own works, my own sufferings, my own righteousness, were so far from reconciling me to an offended God, so far from making an atonement for the least of those sins, which 'were more in number than the hairs of my head,' that the most specious of them needed an atonement: that 'having the sentence of death' in my heart, and having nothing in or of myself to plead, I had no hope, but that of being justified freely, 'through the redemption that is in Jesus'; I had no hope, but that if sought I would find Christ, and 'be found in Him, not having my own righteousness, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith.'

"If it be said that I had faith (for many such things I heard, from many miserable comforters), | answer, so have the devils—a sort of faith; but still they are strangers to the covenant of promise. So the apostles had even at Cana in Galilee, when Jesus first 'manifested forth his glory'; even then they, in a sort, 'believed on him'; but they had not then 'the faith that overcometh the world.' The faith I wanted was 'a sure trust and confidence in God, that, through the merits of Christ, my sins were forgiven, and I reconciled to the favor of God.' I needed that faith which St. Paul recommends to all the world, especially in his

Epistle to the Romans: that faith which enables everyone that hath it to cry out, 'I live not; but Christ liveth in me; and the life which I now live, I live by faith in the son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.' I needed that faith which none can have without knowing that he hath it (though many imagine they have it, who have it not); for whosoever hath it, is 'freed from sin, the' whole

'body of sin is destroyed' in him; he is freed from fear, 'having peace with God through Christ, and rejoicing in hope of the glory of God.' And he is freed from doubt,

'having the love of God shed abroad in his heart, through *°Again, Wesley's own footnote reads: "I believe not.'

The Journey Home

the Holy Ghost which is given unto him'; which 'Spirit itself beareth witness with his spirit, that he is a child of God"

Now I can see the choice more clearly (such is our wisdom for things past). Perhaps the fear and uncertainty was best. Perhaps I "should look upon it as my cross; when it comes, to let it humble me, and quicken all my good resolutions, especially that of praying without ceasing; and at other times, to take no thought about it, but quietly go on 'in the work of the Lord.'''18 On the other hand, perhaps I needed to start afresh, to count all that I had done before as "dung and dross" (there being no middle ground in the days of our youth), and seek a new foundation.

I was soon to believe (though I retract it now, this being far too strong)' that the mystics were the most dangerous enemies of Christianity (all others being but triflers). I wrote: '"They stab it in the vitals; and its most serious professors are most likely to fall by them. May I praise Him who hath snatched me out of this fire.''?° If I had the faith of a servant, I still lacked the faith of ason.

[had no power, no heart, no expectation to see God at work among His people. Perhaps the mystics also had the faith of a servant; but their "dark night'' could never produce that of a son.

My objections at this point, however, were still on the fringe of the issue. As in my letter to Samuel some months earlier, I objected only to their neglect of the means of grace. As long as I did not have the witness of the Spirit, I would be vulnerable to mysticism.

Yet, I still feared the alternative. Both Luther and Calvin seemed to magnify faith to such an amazing degree that it hid all the rest of the commandments. I did not then see that this was the natural effect of their overgrown fear of 17Works, Vol. I, pp. 76f.

18 Journal, Vol. I, p. 418.

19Works, Vol. X, p. 395; cf. Letters, Vol. VI, p. 43, where Wesley commends the mystics for ''many excellent things."

20Journal, Vol. 1, p. 420. These comments, from the Standard Journal, were omitted in the journal portion of his published works.

John Wesley: His Life and Theology Popery.*! The mystic writers in their "noble" descriptions of union with God and internal religion made everything else appear "mean, flat, andinsipid, .

.even good works appear so too; yea, and faith itself.''?

If faith in the evangelical sense was to win out and lead to that of ason, it would take a person of considerable reason and candor to show me the way.

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