FOOTNOTES:
1779.
Age 76
The year 1779 was one of national alarm. The remarkable trials of Admiral Keppel and Sir Hugh Palliser occasioned fierce debates in parliament. Lord North and his colleagues were accused of being intermeddling, shortsighted, and incapable. American agents were busy with Irish malcontents; and armed associations, not the most loyal, were formed in Dublin and throughout the country. The Spanish ambassador quitted London, after delivering to the secretary of state a hostile manifesto. The ministry proposed, that the militia should be doubled. Press warrants were issued in all directions, and press gangs actively employed in increasing the navy. France was jubilant. England rang with reports of invasion, and of new Spanish armadas, more terrible than that sent against Queen Elizabeth. Gibraltar was threatened; and so was Jersey. Paul Jones, at the head of a squadron manned by French and Americans, and desperadoes from various other countries, menaced the whole of the eastern coast of England, from Flamborough Head to the Frith of the Tay. Lord North’s parliamentary majorities were dwindling. George III. had no decisive victories to report. It was asserted that the American war had already added sixty-three millions to the national debt; and Charles Fox declared that treachery, and not ignorance, must have prevailed in the national councils to reduce the country to its present miserable condition. England throughout was in a panic.
In this emergency, as in all others, Wesley was among the foremost to evince his loyalty. On February 8, he wrote: “Finding many serious persons were much discouraged by prophets of evil, confidently foretelling very heavy calamities which were coming upon our nation, I endeavoured to lift up their hands, by opening and applying Psalm xliii. 5, 6.” Two days later was the national fast, when he preached on Abraham interceding for the city of Sodom. To quiet the panic at Newcastle, he took for his text, “The Lord sitteth above the waterfloods; the Lord reigneth a king for ever.” In a letter to Bradburn, he says:
“It is the judgment of many, that, since the time of the Invincible Armada, Great Britain and Ireland were never in such danger from foreign enemies as they are at this day. Humanly speaking, we are not able to contend with them, either by sea or land. They are watching over us as a leopard over his prey, just ready to spring upon us. They are mighty and rage horribly; but the Lord that dwelleth on high is mightier; and now is the time, at this awful crisis, for the inhabitants of the land to learn righteousness. I make no doubt, but you improve the important opportunity, and lift up your voice like a trumpet. Who knoweth but God may be entreated of us, as He was for Nineveh? Our brethren, in various parts of England, have set apart an hour in a week for prayer (namely, from eight till nine on Sunday evening), in behalf of our king and country. Should not the same be done in Ireland too? particularly at Cork and Bandon? Those who have not opportunity of meeting, at the time, may pray part of the hour in private. Meantime, there is a text for you: ‘I will not destroy it for ten’s sake.’”
Besides this weekly prayer-meeting by the English Methodists, a Methodist fast was observed in connection with the annual conference. Thomas Taylor writes: “July 30—This day was observed as a fast on account of public affairs. We met in the morning at five; and, after the sermon, we continued in prayer till nine o’clock. At one, we met again, and received the sacrament. In the evening, we kept a watchnight, and I gave an exhortation. But the people do not stay at watchnights in London, as they do in the country.”
A few days later, we find Wesley holding a noonday prayer-meeting, at Haverfordwest, to intercede for the king and country. At Bristol, he preached on David’s prayer, “Lord, turn the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishness”; and, in October, wrote again to Samuel Bradburn as follows.
“London, October 10, 1779.
“Dear Sammy,—The alarm has been general in England as well as Ireland; particularly in the maritime parts. But it has done abundantly more good than harm to the work of God. The children of God have been greatly stirred up, and have been more instant in prayer. And many men of the world have been greatly awakened, and continue so to this day. Most of those who have the fullest intercourse with God believe our enemies will never be permitted to land in England. And, indeed, God has already given abundant proof of His hearing prayer: first, in their not landing at Plymouth, where they stayed gaping and staring for eight-and-forty hours, while they might with all ease have destroyed both the dock and the town; secondly, in the malignant fever which has broken out in their fleet, and already destroyed several thousands of men.”
Infidelity will sneer at this; but religion, recognising a ruling Providence, will reverentially bow its head. The crisis was terrible. Sixty-eight French and Spanish ships of the line, and many frigates and smaller vessels, all commanded by D’Orvilliers, appeared off Plymouth. The British fleet did not exceed thirty-eight sail of the line, and was absent at sea, under the command of Admiral Hardy. Where was the difficulty of seizing Plymouth? Wesley writes: “They might have entered it with perfect ease. The wind was fair; there was no fleet to oppose them; there was scarce any garrison, and the few men that were there had no wadding at all, and but two rounds of powder; and only two of the cannon were mounted.” And yet the combined fleet, nearly twice the size of Hardy’s, contented itself with a pompous parade in front of the unprotected town. No wonder that Wesley, with grateful exultation, preached from texts like the one he took at Newcastle: “The Lord sitteth above the waterfloods; the Lord reigneth a king for ever.”
Before we track Wesley’s wanderings in 1779, there is another matter which deserves mention. On the 30th of May, 1778, Voltaire died in Paris, in the eighty-fifth year of his age. His death was what the death of an arch infidel might be expected to be. The subjoined anecdote respecting it has long been widely published, but, perhaps, never so nearly traced to its source as now. Wesley had been informed that one of the chaplains of George III. was about to publish Voltaire’s pernicious works in a collected form; and, in a fit of godly indignation, he wrote the following unpublished letter.
“January 4, 1779.
“Sir,—In September last, a gentleman, near Bristol, showed me a letter, which he had received from the Rev. Mr. Fletcher, at Paris. I desired him to give a transcript of one part of it, which he immediately did. It was as follows:
“‘Mr. Voltaire sent for Monsieur Tronclils, first physician to the Duke of Orleans, (one of his converts to infidelity,) and said to him, “Sir, I desire you will save my life. I will give you half my fortune, if you will lengthen out my days only six months. If not, I shall go to the devil, and carry you with me.”’
“This is the man to whom a crowned head pays such a violent compliment! Nay, this is the man whose works are now publishing by a divine of our own Church; yea, a chaplain to his majesty. Pity but the king should know it. If the publisher of that poor wretch’s works writes a panegyric upon him or them, I shall think it my duty to show the real value of those writings.
“I am, sir, your humble servant,
J. Wesley.”
No man was a more determined opponent of evil than Wesley was; and, at the same time, no man was a more faithful friend. The following is illustrative of this. The Methodists know something, and might be told a great deal more, respecting William Shent, the Methodist barber of the town of Leeds. Poor William was now in not undeserved embarrassment; his friends forsook him; but not so Wesley. Hence the following, hitherto unpublished, letter to the Methodist society in Keighley.
“London, January 11, 1779.
“I have a few questions, which I desire may be proposed to the society at Keighley.
“Who was the occasion of the Methodist preachers first setting foot in Leeds? William Shent.
“Who received John Nelson into his house at his first coming thither? William Shent.
“Who was it that invited me, and received me when I came? William Shent.
“Who was it that stood by me while I preached in the street with stones flying on every side? William Shent.
“Who was it that bore the storm of persecution for the whole town, and stemmed it at the peril of his life? William Shent.
“Whose word did God bless for many years in an eminent manner? William Shent’s.
“By whom were many children now in paradise begotten in the Lord, and many now alive? William Shent.
“Who is he that is ready now to be broken up, and turned into the street? William Shent.
“And does nobody care for this? William Shent fell into sin, and was publicly expelled the society; but must he be also starved? Must he with his grey hairs and all his children be without a place to lay his head? Can you suffer this? Oh, tell it not in Gath! Where is gratitude? Where is compassion? Where is Christianity? Where is humanity? Where is concern for the cause of God? Who is a wise man among you? Who is concerned for the gospel? Who has put on bowels of mercy? Let him arise and exert himself in this matter. You here all arise as one man, and roll away the reproach. Let us set him on his feet once more. It may save both him and his family. But what we do, let it be done quickly.
“I am, dear brethren, your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”
It is hardly necessary to track the steps of Wesley throughout the whole of a journey which occupied the next five months. He opened the new chapel at Bath, of which more must be said shortly. On Friday, March 19, he preached in Bengeworth church at noon; and, at six, in the church at Pebworth. At West Bromwich, during a terrific storm of wind and hail, he addressed a congregation in the open air. At Madeley, he preached in the new chapel, built by his friend Fletcher, in Madeley Wood. He opened a new chapel at Davyhulme, Manchester. He also paid his first visit to Oldham, where he says: “I had such a congregation as I have not seen since I was in the Cornish amphitheatre. And all, beside a few giddy children, were seriously attentive.”
This was a great improvement in the manners of the Oldham people. When Matthew Mayer commenced preaching here in 1763, he asked a man to allow him to stand before his door. “No,” replied the Lancashire savage; and then he swore that, if Mayer attempted to gather a congregation there, he would cleave his skull. Having removed to the door of Jonathan Mabbot’s, in George Street, Mayer mounted a stool; but he had no sooner sung and prayed, than the mob, led on by churchwardens and constables, surrounded him. “By what authority do you come hither?” asked the Oldham functionaries. “By what authority do you ask me?” replied Mr. Mayer. “Pull him down, pull him down!” cried the mob; and then one of the constables upset the preacher’s stool; and the zealous guardians of the Church shouted, “We want none of your preaching here.” On the Sunday following, while Mayer was preaching, the mob amused themselves by thrusting pins into the legs and arms of serious hearers; and, on the Sunday after that, a brute was hired for threepence halfpenny to strip himself stark naked, and rush into the midst of Mayer’s congregation. On another occasion, John Murlin was dragged from his horseblock pulpit, and was thrown into a dungeon; and, on another, James Hall was honoured with the presence not only of the constables, churchwardens, and Oldham mob, but also of a huntsman and his hounds. The churchwardens raved; the constables brandished their official staves; the mob bawled; the dogs barked; and the huntsman blew his horn with such vehemence that Mr. Hall found it impossible to preach, but, for an hour and a half, continued to sing and pray.
Leaving Oldham, Wesley proceeded to Northwich and other places in Cheshire; then to Warrington, Liverpool, Bolton, Rochdale, Bacup, and Padiham. He writes: “April 13—At one o’clock, I preached in the shell of the house at Padiham, where there is at length a prospect of peace, after abundance of disturbance, caused by one who neither fears God nor reverences man.”
The chapel referred to, in this extract, was erected in the midst of the most determined opposition. What was built during the day was frequently demolished during the night; and it became necessary to appoint nocturnal watchers to guard the premises. At length, the building was completed, and had, in the front wall, a stone with a sun dial, serving for a clock, and round about it an inscription, which, to future generations, was a memento of bygone troubles: “They thrust sore at me that I might fall; but the Lord hath helped me, and taken part against them that hated me.”
From Padiham, Wesley went to Todmorden, Heptonstall, Ewood, and Halifax. He writes: “April 15—I went to Halifax, where a little thing had lately occasioned great disturbance. An angel blowing a trumpet was placed on the sounding board over the pulpit. Many were vehemently against this; others as vehemently for it: but a total end was soon put to the contest, for the angel vanished away.”
“Behold how great a matter a little fire kindleth!” Several of the Halifax Methodists, thinking that the sounding board would be improved by some sort of ornament, opened a subscription for that purpose, and, a fortnight before Wesley’s visit, procured the celestial trumpeter which Wesley mentions. John Murlin, one of the preachers, determined not to preach under the angel’s expanded wings. Discussion sprung up, in the midst of which Wesley came. The leaders were summoned; a hot discussion followed; and the votes, for and against the angel, were equal. Just at this juncture, John Hatton, of Lightcliffe, entered, and gave a vote for the angel’s removal. Immediately, the carved image was taken down; John Murlin hewed it in pieces; and, before midnight, it was burnt in the chapel yard. Great was the consternation of these simple Methodists, when, at the five o’clock preaching, next morning, they found their pet angel had vanished. Quarrelling ensued; and several influential members, in angelic indignation, left the society which had destroyed the angelic ornament, and, in some instances, remained to the end of life unconnected with any church whatever.
Proceeding to Haworth, Wesley preached, in the morning, in the church; but, in the afternoon, “thousands upon thousands being gathered together,” he was obliged to take his stand in the churchyard. The next day,—Monday, April 19,—he preached in the church at Bingley; and then went to Otley. “On April 24,” Thomas Taylor writes, “I met Mr. Wesley at Cross Hall, and found the old apostle as hearty and lively as ever. The conversation at table was such as became our religious profession. There were present two pious clergymen, two of my brethren, and several serious women. On Sunday, April 25, I went with Mr. Wesley to Birstal church, after which he preached to, I think, the largest congregation I have ever seen in any place.”
At Huddersfield, Wesley found a great revival of the work of God, sometimes “sixteen, eighteen, yea, twenty,” being converted in a day. At Leeds, Dr. Kershaw, the vicar, desired him to assist at the sacrament. Ten clergymen were present, and seven or eight hundred communicants. At Darlington, he found some of the liveliest Methodists in the north of England. He preached in the market place, and all behaved well, except a party of the Queen’s Dragoons. At Barnard Castle, the Durham militia were assembled,—the handsomest body of soldiers he had ever seen, except in Ireland; and all, officers and soldiers, came to hear him, and were a pattern to the whole congregation.
He now made his way to Newcastle, and thence to Scotland, where he travelled as far north as Inverness. He writes: “June 8—I reached Inverness, but found a new face of things there. Good Mr. Mackenzie had been, for some years, removed to Abraham’s bosom. Mr. Fraser, his colleague, a pious man, of the old stamp, was likewise gone to rest. The three present ministers are of another kind; so that I have no more place in the kirk; and the wind and rain would not permit me to preach on the green. However, our house was large, though gloomy enough. Being now informed, (which I did not suspect before,) that the town was uncommonly given to drunkenness, I used the utmost plainness of speech; and I believe not without effect. I then spent some time with the society, increased from twelve to between fifty and sixty; many of these knew in whom they had believed; so that all the pains which have been taken to stop the work of God here have hitherto been in vain.”
A month later, Wesley wrote the following hitherto unpublished letter to Mr. McAllum.
“Epworth, July 10, 1779.
“Dear Duncan,—This is the circumstance which puzzles the case: who can preach in Erse but you? Cannot you then think of any preacher, whom you love, and who is a zealous, active man? Inverness should by all means be a circuit by itself, including as many towns as you please, north and south. I wish you would think of it, and send me the plan to London.
“Did not sister Anderson receive my letter? I wonder she did not answer. Joseph Moore utterly denies he ever offered her marriage. I desired her to tell me the very words he spoke or wrote.
“I am, dear Duncan, yours affectionately,
“John Wesley.
“To Mr. Duncan McAllum,
at Mr. John Watson’s, slater, Inverness.”
Wesley spent nearly a month in his evangelistic tour through Scotland. Everywhere he was received with great respect and affection; and he speaks of many “times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord.” He was introduced to several persons of distinction, and, among others, to gossiping James Boswell, who writes: “Though I differed from Mr. John Wesley in some points, I admired his various talents, and loved his pious zeal. At my request, therefore, Dr. Johnson gave me a letter of introduction to him.
“To the Rev. Mr. John Wesley.
“May 3, 1779.
“Sir,—Mr. Boswell, a gentleman, who has been long known to me, is desirous of being known to you, and has asked this recommendation, which I give him with great willingness, because I think it very much to be wished that worthy and religious men should be acquainted with each other.
“I am, sir, your most humble servant,
“Sam. Johnson.”
Boswell adds, that he presented the letter to Wesley at Edinburgh, “and was very politely received.”
Wesley, in returning, reached Newcastle on June 22, and would fain have rested in a place to which he was tenderly attached. He writes: “Wednesday, June 23—I rested here. Lovely place, and lovely company! But I believe there is another world; therefore I must ‘arise and go hence.’” Accordingly, next morning, he set out for Stockton upon Tees, and preached all the way along the east coast of England till he came to Great Grimsby. “Here,” he says, “I found a little trial. In this, and many other parts of the kingdom, those striplings, who call themselves Lady Huntingdon’s preachers, have greatly hindered the work of God. They have neither sense, courage, nor grace, to go and beat up the devil’s quarters, in any place where Christ has not been named; but, wherever we have entered as by storm, and gathered a few souls, often at the peril of our lives, they creep in, and, by doubtful disputations, set every one’s sword against his brother. One of these has just crept into Grimsby, and is striving to divide the poor little flock; but I hope his labour will be in vain, and they will still hold the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
Having visited the societies in Lincolnshire, Wesley proceeded to Doncaster and Sheffield, and thence, by way of Derby, Nottingham, Leicester, Hinckley, and Coventry, to London, which he reached on July 23.
Wesley had not preached at Hinckley since the year 1744. What led him to visit the town now? We learn, from the unpublished autobiography of Thomas Dixon, who, at this time, was stationed in the Leicestershire circuit, that, just before the conference of 1779, he attempted to introduce Methodism into Hinckley, and not without success. According to custom, he took his stand in the street, and began to sing. The night was wet, and his congregation was not only small, but seemed so apprehensive of the Methodist apparition, that, while they listened to him, they also kept at a safe distance from him. He preached again next morning to a congregation somewhat larger, and then set out for Tamworth. This was his first and his last visit; but a class was formed just after, which, in 1780, contributed nearly a pound per quarter for the support of the work of God; and, from that time to this, Methodism has had a place in Hinckley.
Then as it respects Coventry, this was the first sermon Wesley delivered here. He says: “July 21—When I came to Coventry, I found notice had been given for my preaching in the park; but the heavy rain prevented. I sent to the mayor, desiring the use of the town hall. He refused; but, the same day, gave the use of it to a dancing master. I then went to the women’s market. Many soon gathered together, and listened with all seriousness. I preached there again the next morning, and again in the evening.”
As already stated, from Coventry Wesley went to London. The entry in his journal recording the journey is worthy of quotation. “I took coach for London. I was nobly attended: behind the coach were ten convicted felons, loudly blaspheming, and rattling their chains; by my side sat a man with a loaded blunderbuss, and another upon the coach.”
Before proceeding to notice the conference, of 1779, two other matters demand attention.
Thomas Maxfield seceded from Wesley in 1763; took away with him about two hundred members of Wesley’s society; and became the minister of a separate and independent congregation. For some reason, he now wished to return to Wesley’s connexion; but to this Wesley and his brother objected. Hence the following letters, by Charles Wesley, the first addressed to Vincent Perronet, the second to Wesley himself.
“London, April 20, 1779.
“Reverend and dear Sir,—My brother and I agreed not to receive Mr. Maxfield again, as a fellow labourer, till he acknowledged his fault. Ought we not to wait for some word, of his being sensible of his ingratitude? Ought we to trust him, and the people to his care, without it? I have not the least spark of resentment towards Mr. Maxfield; but to deliver up our charge to him, unconvinced, is to betray them.
“My brother’s interest with the bishop is great, (I believe,) but my son Samuel’s is greater. Sam and the bishop are, Ego et rex meus.
“Your very affectionate and ever obliged servant,
“Charles Wesley.”
“London, April 23, 1779.
“Dear Brother,—I still love Thomas Maxfield. I see some advantages to us, as well as to him, from his return to us, provided he is first convinced. Receive him unconvinced, and you will have to put him away again, when perhaps it will scarce be in your power. One more trial, if you please, we will make upon him, in a conference between us three. Possibly we may gain our brother.
“I shall be happy to hear you have saved poor William Shent. Hopper and others will, I know, draw in their horns while you are talking with them, and be perhaps convinced for a short time. Give them back their first love, and their first poverty, and they will not even wish to reign without us. Peter Jaco, John Atlay, and John Pawson, might, I hope, be set right by a friendly conference with us. They then would strengthen their brethren, or recover them.
“Your defect of mistrust needs my excess to guard it. You cannot be taken by storm, but may by surprise. We seem designed for each other. If we could and would be more together, it might be better for both. That I shall go first, I cannot doubt. The extraordinary strength, continued to you, is a promise of your longer continuance. My strength and my work are very near their end.
“Charles Wesley.”
The above letter refers to another matter besides that of the return of Thomas Maxfield. Charles Wesley was still jealous of the preachers aspiring after power, and especially of Christopher Hopper and his friends. He seems to have thought, that John Atlay, who was now the book steward in London, and John Pawson, who was the London assistant, and Peter Jaco, who was a London supernumerary, “might be set right by a friendly conference”; but of the other London preachers, including Thomas Rankin and Thomas Coke, he was in doubt. He properly enough gives himself credit for an excess of caution; but, perhaps wrongly, thinks his brother had not enough of it.
This was another important crisis in the history of the two Wesleys. It was only a few months before, that City Road chapel had been opened. Charles Wesley, Thomas Coke, John Richardson, and John Abraham, were its officiating clergymen; but John Pawson, Thomas Rankin, Thomas Tennant, and Peter Jaco, were itinerant preachers, appointed by the conference of 1778, to the London circuit, of which the chapel in City Road was now a part. What was the result? Jealousies sprung up, indirectly referred to in the above letter, but mentioned in greater detail in another letter to be presently inserted. Before, however, that letter is introduced, perhaps the following extracts from John Pawson’s unpublished manuscript memoir of Dr. Whitehead will be acceptable, and will cast light on Wesley’s difficulties. Mr. Pawson writes:
“I was perhaps as well acquainted with the two brothers as any man now living. That Mr. Charles Wesley was of a very suspicious temper is certainly true; and that Mr. John Wesley had far more charity, in judging of persons in general, (except the rich and great,) than his brother had, is equally true. But that he was so apt to be taken in with appearances is not true. He was well able to form a judgment of particular persons, and was as seldom mistaken as his brother. I once heard him pleasantly say: ‘My brother suspects everybody, and he is continually imposed upon; but I suspect nobody, and I am never imposed upon.’ It is well known that Mr. Charles Wesley was much prejudiced in favour of the clergy, through the whole course of his life, and that it was nothing but hard necessity that obliged him, in any degree, to continue the lay preachers. He must have been blind indeed not to have seen, that God had given to many of them, at least, very considerable ministerial gifts, and that He attended their labours with great success; but I am well persuaded, that, could he have found a sufficient number of clergymen to have carried on the work of God, he would soon have disowned all the lay preachers. He was glad of their assistance when he did not choose to preach himself; and, accordingly, on a Sunday evening, he would always have a lay preacher appointed as well as himself, lest a shower of rain, or an agreeable visit, should prevent his attending. At a conference held in Bristol many years ago, about a dozen clergymen attended for the purpose of convincing us, that we ought not to preach in any parish that was favoured with a gospel minister. Mr. Charles Wesley took part with them, and said, ‘If I was stationed in any particular parish, you should not preach there.’ Mr. John Hampson replied, ‘I would preach there, and never ask your leave; and I should think I had as good a right for doing so, as you had,’ Mr. Charles answered in great anger, ‘You are a grievous wolf: you will tear the flock when my brother and myself are dead, unless God give you repentance.’ Mr. Charles was inclined to find out and magnify any supposed fault in the lay preachers; but his brother treated them with respect, and exercised a fatherly care over them. I am persuaded that, from the creation of the world, there never existed a body of men who looked up to any single person with a more profound degree of reverence than the preachers did to Mr. Wesley; and I am bold to say, that never did any man, no, not St. Paul himself, possess so high a degree of power over so large a body of men as was possessed by him. He used his power, however, for the edification of the people, and abused it as little perhaps as any one man ever did. When any difficulty occurred in governing the preachers, it soon vanished. The oldest, the very best, and those of them that had the greatest influence, were ever ready to unite with him, and to assist him to the utmost of their power. The truth is, if the preachers were in any danger at all, it was of calling Mr. Wesley ‘Rabbi,’ and implicitly obeying him in whatsoever he thought proper to command.
“Dr. Whitehead informs his readers, that a party existed among the preachers, who wished for a total separation from the Established Church, and for the Methodists to be formed into an independent body; and represents Dr. Coke as being at the head of that party. I am well assured, that this is incorrect. The preachers only wished, that the people, who had grown weary of seeking the living among the dead, and of asking bread of those who they well knew had only a stone to give them, might be indulged with the lively ordinances of God; and some of the people thought it very unjust, not to say cruel, that their ministers did not grant them the privilege of worshipping God at those particular times of the Lord’s day, when both body and mind were best prepared for so doing. It is true, that a party existed, both among the preachers and people, who were inclined to believe, that those whom God had called to preach might lawfully administer the sacraments; as they were not able to perceive that it required a greater degree of wisdom and piety to qualify a person to baptize a child than to preach the word of God. They likewise had scruples whether it was right to wish those ministers God speed, by attending their ministry, whom, they felt convinced, God had never sent. But, at the same time, the preachers knew, that there never was among themselves a sufficient number of acceptable men to supply all the Methodist congregations; and that, if there had been, and if an entire separation from the Church had taken place, the Methodists were too poor to support such a multitude of ministers. Common prudence, therefore, prevented them from wishing for that which they knew could not be accomplished.”
These are important statements, coming from a man of Mr. Pawson’s ministerial standing, and who was one of Wesley’s itinerant preachers during the last twenty-nine years of Wesley’s life. They could be easily extended; but, perhaps, enough has been said, to show that the feeling, between Charles Wesley and the preachers, was not of the most friendly kind; and this will prepare the reader for the following letter, which Charles, at this period, addressed to his brother.
“London, June 16, 1779.
“Dear Brother,—Mr. B. has been lately with the committee, and was there informed, that our preachers (the three principal) have written to the country preachers heavy complaints of their ill usage by the clergy here; not, I should suppose, by quiet John Richardson,—not by passive Dr. Coke, for he, they say, is gone to Bristol, that he may not be a witness of their cruel persecution. The persecuting clergy, therefore, are neither more nor less than your own brother Charles, and the whole ground of their complaint against me is, ‘my serving the chapel on Sunday afternoon, as well as in the morning.’
“But this is no new grievance; for I constantly preached Sunday morning and afternoon at Bristol. If they could exclude me here, they would not long permit me there.
“My reasons for preaching at the new chapel twice every Sunday are: 1. Because, after you, I have the best right. 2. Because I have so short a time to preach anywhere. 3. Because I am fully persuaded I can do more good there than in any other place. They, I know, are of a different judgment, and make no secret of it, declaring everywhere, ‘that the work is stopping; the society scattering; and the congregation at the new chapel dwindled away and quite dead.’
“I thank God, the chapel is well filled. Last Sunday I preached twice, never with greater, and seldom with equal, effect. After sermon, Mr. Rankin followed me to the vestry to assure me, ‘he had never spoken disrespectfully of us, and that he was a great friend to the Church.’ At the same time, a gentlewoman came, filled with faith and love by the word just spoken. I turned aside to let Mr. Rankin examine her. She said that, a month ago, she was brought up out of the pit of despair, under my word. He repeated his inquiries, and she her answers, to his satisfaction shall I say, or dissatisfaction? I would hope the former. You will inquire when here (only not of the preachers), and judge for yourself whether my persevering ministry at the chapel has done good or hurt.
“I think the preachers wrong, and in the greatest danger through pride; but I have, and will have, no quarrel with them. Mr. Kemp proposed to carry me to meet you on the last day’s journey, or I should not have thought of it. I do not want to have the first word. Let them have the first and last. I do not want to interfere in that government of yours, or to appear at all at the congress. A word of yours might turn the scale, and send me directly to Bristol.
“It is just come into my mind, ‘The lay preachers affect to believe I act as a clergyman in opposition to them.’ To me, it seems that I act as I do, in goodwill to them, as well as to the people. If there was no man above them, what would become of them? How would they tear one another in pieces! Convince them, if you can, that they want a clergyman over them, to keep them and the flock together. Convince them, that it is impossible I should stand in their way long, for I cannot (should I live to the winter) serve the new chapel Sundays and holydays in all weathers. Persuade each of them to be the least, not the greatest; and then all will be right again. You have no alternative but to conquer that spirit, or to be conquered by it. Can you think, I envy you your pre-eminence? If God continues my strength, I shall take the best care of the chapel till you return. Then I shall deliver up my charge to you, and you alone.
“Charles Wesley.”
This peevish epistle, published in Wesley’s own Arminian Magazine, will not add to the fair fame of Methodism’s great hymnist. It was an unworthy production of a pen which wrote hundreds, in fact, thousands, of sweet songs of praise. John Pawson—good, but gossiping,—and Thomas Rankin—honest to the heart’s inmost core, but somewhat obstinate and overbearing,—were far from perfect; but was it just in Charles Wesley to write to his brother respecting them in the querulous tone in which he did? Charles Wesley says, the City Road chapel was well filled; Pawson says, in the manuscript memoir of Dr. Whitehead, that “the congregation fell off exceedingly; and that the society was brought into great disorder.” Charles Wesley was a scholar, and, as a sacred poet, was without a peer; but we incline to think, that John Pawson and Thomas Rankin were more popular and powerful preachers than either he or any other of his City Road clerical colleagues; and it is not surprising, that the people wished to hear them on Sundays as well as week days; and that the itinerants themselves,—one of whom was the appointed superintendent of the London circuit, and the other of whom had been Wesley’s chosen superintendent of the whole of the Methodist societies in America,—should think they had quite as much right as Charles Wesley, Thomas Coke, John Richardson, or John Abraham, to preach to Sunday congregations in City Road. The truth is, though, in years past, Charles Wesley’s ministry had been exceedingly attractive and powerful, it was now, what shall we say? John Pawson writes: “When he was favoured with freedom of mind, which was but seldom, then his preaching was truly profitable; but, in general, it was exceedingly dry and lifeless.” His sons Charles and Samuel,—the former twenty-one years of age, and the latter thirteen,—were, by their musical genius, creating a sensation in the highest circles of London society; and, for several years, conducted in their father’s house a series of domestic subscription concerts, of twelve nights’ continuance, in each season. Their father thoroughly approved of this. “I am clear,” says he, “without a doubt, that my sons’ concert is after the will and order of Providence.” Wesley appends to this a note: “I am clear of another mind.” Without staying to settle the dispute, there can be no doubt that, by these concerts, Charles Wesley was brought into the society of a large number of the rich and great. The simple minded London Methodists were staggered at one of their great leaders having such musical performances in his house, and at his mingling with persons, who, though highly genteel, were not religious. Many began to regard him with suspicion; his preaching popularity was waning; Pawson says, “he was like Samson shorn of his strength”; his health also was failing; like most men of high poetic genius, he was subject to melancholy moods: put all these things together, and the petulancy and suspicion of Charles Wesley’s letter to his brother will not excite surprise.
This then was the state of things awaiting the venerable Wesley, on his return to London, after a laborious preaching tour of five months’ duration. By an almost superhuman effort, he had built and opened his new chapel in City Road; but things, instead of being more prosperous than ever, were in a state of disastrous commotion. In this, the first year after the chapel was opened, there was a decrease of one hundred and twenty-three members in the London circuit, though that circuit had now an unprecedented staff of ordained clergymen, and four of the best itinerants in Wesley’s connexion. Ordinary men would have been discouraged and at their wits’ end; but not so the man who was born, not to be conquered by difficulties, but to conquer them.
Wesley’s conference of 1779 was commenced on August 3; and it was now ascertained, that nineteen other circuits besides London had a decrease of members. Wesley asked, How can we account for this? The reasons assigned were:—1. Partly the neglect of outdoor preaching, and of trying new places. 2. Partly prejudice against the king, and speaking evil of dignities. 3. But chiefly the increase of worldly mindedness, and conformity to the world. It was also resolved, that no one speaking evil of those in authority, or prophesying evil to the nation, should be a Methodist preacher. Itinerants were reproved for hastening home to their wives after preaching; and were told, they ought never to do this till they had met the society. To revive the work in Scotland, the preachers were directed to preach in the open air as much as possible; to try every town and village; and to visit every member of society at home.
As soon as the conference was ended, Wesley set out, with his brother and his family, for Wales, where he spent a fortnight in preaching to large and deeply affected congregations.
He then proceeded to the west of England. At Exeter, he writes: “I preached in a convenient room, lately a school; I suppose formerly a chapel. It is both neat and solemn, and is believed to contain four or five hundred people.”
This was the meeting-house concerning which Wesley wrote to Samuel Wells, the assistant of the Tiverton circuit, as follows.
“London, January 28, 1779.
“Dear Sammy,—According to the act of toleration—1. You are required to certify to the registrar of the bishop’s court, or the justices, the place of your meeting for Divine worship. This is all you have to do. You ask nothing at all of the bishop or justices.
“2. The registrar, or clerk of the court, is required to register the same, and to give a certificate thereof to such persons as shall demand the same; for which there shall be no greater fee or reward taken than sixpence.
“I advise you to go once more to the sessions, and say, ‘Gentlemen, we have had advice from London; we desire nothing at all of you; but we demand of your clerk to register this place, and to give us a certificate thereof; or to answer the refusal at his peril.’
“Answer no questions to the justices, or lawyers, but with a bow, and with repeating the words, ‘Our business is only with your clerk; we demand of him what the act requires him to do.’
“If you judge proper, you may show this to any of the justices. What I have written, I am ready to defend.
“You have led the justices into the mistake, by your manner of addressing them. Beware of this for the time to come. You have nothing to ask of them.
“John Wesley.”
On September 4, Wesley returned to Bristol, where he spent a month in visiting the surrounding societies. He then made his way to London, preaching at Devizes, Winchester, and Portsmouth. On leaving London, he slept, for the last time, in the old Foundery. He now, for the first time slept in the house, in which he afterwards died, in City Road.
On October 11, he began his preaching tour to Northamptonshire; a week later to Sussex; and a week later still to Norfolk. He then commenced his annual examination of the London society, and writes: “I did not find such an increase as I expected. Nay, there was a considerable decrease, plainly owing to a senseless jealousy that had crept in between our preachers.”
This doubtless refers to the quarrel already mentioned. Unfortunately, the strife was now extended to Bath. The assistant appointed at the late conference to the Bristol circuit (of which Bath was part), was Alexander M‘Nab, a native of Perthshire, in North Britain, and now in the thirty-fourth year of his age. For thirteen years, he had been an itinerant preacher, and had laboured, with considerable success, in the three kingdoms. Wesley, writing to Lady Maxwell in 1771, said: “Mr. M‘Nab is a sound and good preacher; but too warm, and impatient of contradiction.” Thomas Rutherford, one of his colleagues, writes: “I was particularly attached to him. He was a most amiable, sensible man, and an excellent preacher. He had the most copious flow of natural, simple oratory, of any man I ever heard. There was an ease, beauty, sweetness, and harmony in his style and language, that was at once both striking and pleasing. The Rev. Dr. Webster once said, ‘I have heard Mr. Walker, Mr. Fordyce, Dr. Blair, etc.; but Mr. M‘Nab is a greater orator than any of them.’” At the conference of 1777, M‘Nab was appointed to Edinburgh; but found the chapel in such a ruinous condition, that he spent £500 in repairing it. For this amount he was personally responsible; and, in order to extricate himself, was requested, by the following conference, to visit the English societies for the purpose of asking assistance. While on this begging excursion, he wrote a letter to Robert Dall, which is inserted here to show the spirit of the man, and that he wished for peace, notwithstanding that he was soon involved in war.
“Bradford, April 24, 1779.
“My very dear Brother,—I hope persons and things are better at Glasgow then when you went there. I was grieved to hear of the disunion of the preachers, and that it had hurt the people; but trust God sent you to Glasgow as a cure for their wounds. In every place, I find the prosperity of the work, under God, depends, in a great measure, upon the piety, zeal, and prudence of the preachers. Persons of that character God will honour, to build up His church; and I need not tell you, we have need of faith in doing and suffering the Divine will; for, without that, we have not the necessary qualification to render us either holy, happy, or useful. In my present employ, I find both pleasure and pain; but, hitherto, God has been with me, and I believe will never leave me. Wishing you every blessing, I am your truly affectionate brother,
“Alex. M‘Nab.”
Such was one of the chief actors in the scene at Bath. Another was the Rev. Edward Smyth, who has been already mentioned, and who had brought his wife to Bath for the benefit of her health. Wesley writes: “God having greatly blessed the labours of Mr. Smyth in the north of Ireland, I desired him to preach every Sunday evening in our chapel, while he remained in Bath. But, as soon as I was gone, Mr. M‘Nab vehemently opposed this; affirming it was the common cause of all the lay preachers; that they were appointed by the conference, not by me; and would not suffer the clergy to ride over their heads, Mr. Smyth in particular, of whom he said all manner of evil. Others warmly defended him. Hence the society was torn in pieces, and thrown into the utmost confusion.”
Such was the dispute. What was the result? On November 22, Wesley and his brother set out from London to settle the disturbance. The Bath society was assembled. Wesley says: “I read to them a paper, which I wrote, near twenty years ago, on a like occasion. Herein I observed, that ‘the rules of our preachers were fixed by me, before any conference existed,’ particularly the twelfth: ‘Above all, you are to preach when and where I appoint.’ By obstinately opposing which rule, Mr. M‘Nab has made all this uproar. In the morning, at a meeting of the preachers, I informed Mr. M‘Nab, that, as he did not agree to our fundamental rule, I could not receive him as one of our preachers, till he was of another mind. Wednesday, November 24, I read the same paper to the society at Bristol, as I found the flame had spread thither also. A few at Bath separated from us on this account; but the rest were thoroughly satisfied.”
Such is the entry in Wesley’s journal; but eight months after this, he writes: “Mr. M‘Nab quarrelling with Mr. Smyth threw wildfire among the people at Bath, and occasioned anger, jealousies, judging each other, backbiting, and tale bearing without end; and, in spite of all the pains which have been taken, the wound is not healed to this day.”
Wesley throws all the blame upon M‘Nab; but it may fairly be doubted whether this was just. There can be no question concerning Wesley’s abstract right to appoint to his chapels whom he pleased; but the manner in which the right was exercised is not an improper subject for doubt and discussion. Wesley pleads what he did twenty years before; but, even allowing that his action then was right, it remains to be proved, that the same action, under altered circumstances, was prudent now. During that interval, the number of Methodists and Methodist preachers had more than doubled. Besides, now that the number of itinerant preachers was more than a hundred and sixty; and that many of them were men of great genius and talent, as well as piety; and that all had a right to take part in the deliberations of the annual conference, which really made the appointments for the ensuing year, Wesley’s claim to have the sole and exclusive power, asserted in the document read to the Bath society, is a claim which can hardly be admitted. There is a forgetfulness of existing facts, and therefore a fallaciousness, in the following letter, written on this subject a few weeks after the Bath disturbances occurred.
“January, 1780.
“My dear Brother,—You seem not to have well considered the Rules of a Helper, or the rise of Methodism. It pleased God, by me, to awaken, first my brother, and then a few others; who severally desired of me, as a favour, that I would direct them in all things. After my return from Georgia, many were both awakened and converted to God. One, and another, and another of these desired to join with me as sons in the gospel, to be directed by me. I drew up a few plain rules (observe there was no conference in being!), and permitted them to join me on these conditions. Whoever, therefore, violates these conditions, particularly that of being directed by me in the work, does, ipso facto, disjoin himself from me. This brother M‘Nab has done (but he cannot see that he has done amiss): and he would have it a common cause; that is, he would have all the preachers do the same. He thinks ‘they have a right so to do.’ So they have. They have a right to disjoin themselves from me whenever they please. But they cannot, in the nature of the thing, join with me any longer than they are directed by me. And what, if fifty of the preachers disjoined themselves! What should I lose thereby? Only a great deal of labour and care, which I do not seek; but endure, because no one else either can or will.
“You seem likewise to have quite a wrong idea of a conference. For above six years after my return to England, there was no such thing. I then desired some of my preachers to meet me, in order to advise, not control, me. And you may observe, they had no power at all, but what I exercised through them. I chose to exercise the power which God had given me in this manner, both to avoid ostentation, and gently to habituate the people to obey them when I should be taken from their head. But as long as I remain with them, the fundamental rule of Methodism remains inviolate. As long as any preacher joins with me, he is to be directed by me in his work. Do not you see then, that brother M‘Nab, whatever his intentions might be, acted as wrong as wrong could be? and that the representing of this as the common cause of the preachers was the way to common destruction, the way to turn their heads, and to set them in arms? It was a blow at the very root of Methodism. I could not, therefore, do less than I did; it was the very least that could be done, for fear that evil should spread.
“I do not willingly speak of these things at all; but I do it now out of necessity; because I perceive the mind of you, and some others, is a little hurt by not seeing them in a true light.
“I am, your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”
This was Wesley’s defence of the boldest act of discipline he had ever exercised; but we still doubt its wisdom and sufficiency. All he says about the preachers placing themselves under his direction, and about the first conferences, is strictly true; but Methodist matters now were widely different from what they were when Methodist conferences were first begun. With all due deference to Wesley, Methodism now was not wholly the work of Wesley, nor was it entirely dependent on him. At this very time, there was, among the preachers, a ministerial phalanx, who had a right to be something more than mere advisers,—servants in the gospel, sometimes taken into the counsels of their chief, but wholly at his disposal. There were Olivers, Pawson, Rankin, Murlin, Story, Whatcoat, Valton, Benson, Hanby, Manners, Taylor, Mather, Hopper, Vasey, Thompson, Pilmoor, Rhodes, Bradburn, Boardman, the two Hampsons, Barber, Rutherford, Moore, Myles, and others, whose names will always be memorable in Methodistic history. Considering the talents, the preaching power, the untiring labours, and the marvellous success of these distinguished men, was it wise, and was it fair, for Wesley to insist upon his retention of the absolute authority that he justly exercised when Methodism was first commenced? Remembering the paltry pittance they received for their important and unceasing toil, was it just, that, in a great religious movement, now spread throughout the three kingdoms, and to which they themselves had greatly contributed, they should be employed as mere workmen, without the least right to take a part in the arrangement of their respective spheres of labour, and without a particle of authority, except what was implied in their advices, in the general legislation of a body now numbering more than forty thousand people? Was it surprising, that Wesley’s expulsion of M‘Nab, for claiming a pulpit to which he had been appointed at the conference, but into which Wesley desired to introduce an expelled Irish clergyman, should create dissatisfaction and incipient rebellion?
There can be no doubt, that this was one of the most dangerous ordeals through which Methodism passed in the lifetime of its founder. It was hardly a fair statement of the case, when Wesley said, that all that he would lose, by fifty of his preachers leaving him, would be “a great deal of labour and care.” If such an event had happened, Methodism would have been split into fragments, and, as a system, would have ceased to exist; and Wesley, seeing the demolition of such a work, would have been a sorrowful man for the remainder of his life. The crisis, in 1779, was most momentous. It was really the first time that Wesley’s supreme and absolute power was professedly and openly resisted. The whole question hinges on the point, were the appointments to chapels and to circuits made by Wesley and his conference of preachers conjointly? or were they made by Wesley himself alone? Wesley argues, that the power of appointment rested solely with himself. We can only answer, that this was an unreasonable and dangerous power to wield. Under the circumstances, Wesley could not claim it, without ignoring the reasonable claims of a large body of the most remarkable men that England has ever had; and he could not exercise it without serious danger to himself and to his system.
Alexander M‘Nab, though comparatively young, was not an ordinary man. Testimonies concerning his character, eloquence, and preaching power, have been already given. Mr. Smyth was doubtless both sensible and pious; but we greatly question whether he was as popular and powerful a preacher as the North Briton. No charge of unsound doctrine, or of immorality, or of incompetency, or of inattention to discipline, was made against M‘Nab. He was faithfully and successfully doing the work to which he had been appointed. He was popular with the people. But because he refused, at Wesley’s bidding, to allow an Irish stranger, not at all his superior, but, probably, his inferior in pulpit ability, to take his place, Wesley, at once, by his own ipse dixit, expelled him from his connexion of preachers. However painful to do it, we are bound to maintain that this was an injustice. The act might be technically right; but it was an almost popish assumption of autocratic authority, and a most perilous—it might have been disastrous—exercise of disciplinary power. It is true that no absolute rebellion followed,—a fact showing the simple minded piety of the Methodist preachers and people, and the marvellous influence of Wesley over them, and their almost unparalleled respect for his character and labours; but there were great commotions and serious misgivings; and, if concessions had not been made, there might have been open resistance, and a consequent wreck of Methodist success and hope.
Here, however, another question occurs. Was Wesley to be solely or principally blamed for this imprudent exercise of power? We have no wish to shield him from censure, when censure is merited; but if others were to blame as well as he, or if others were even more blamable than he, it is only fair to his memory and name, that the facts should be published.
Charles Wesley’s quarrel with the London preachers has been already mentioned. It occurred a few months only previous to the affair at Bath. There is no denying it, that Charles was violently opposed to lay preachers, and was unreasonably jealous of their intriguing to obtain co-ordinate power with his brother, and of their intention to use such power in effecting a separation of Methodism from the Established Church. On Good Friday, 1779, he wrote to his brother: “The preachers do not love the Church of England. When we are gone, a separation is inevitable. Do you not wish to keep as many good people in the Church as you can? Something might be done now to save the remainder, if you had resolution, and would stand by me as firmly as I will by you. Consider what you are bound to do as a clergyman; and what you do, do quickly.”
It was in such a frame of mind, that Charles Wesley heard of M‘Nab’s resisting the authority of his brother at Bath. Mr. Pawson, who says he was perfectly acquainted with the affair, tells us, in his manuscript memoir of Dr. Whitehead, that Charles Wesley “took fire at once, and highly resented Mr. M‘Nab’s behaviour. He prevailed upon his brother, after much strife and contention, to exclude Mr. M‘Nab from the connexion; and, upon this condition, he promised to attend him to Bath. Accordingly the two brothers, accompanied by Dr. Coke and the Rev. Mr. Collins, went to Bath with all possible secrecy, and the sentence was pronounced upon poor Mr. M‘Nab agreeably to Mr. Charles Wesley’s wish. By this means, the Bath society was divided. Many of the people loved Mr. M‘Nab, and thought it wrong that he should be condemned unheard. The society at Bristol also was thrown into great confusion; and, had it not been for the exertions of Dr. Coke, would have been divided like that at Bath. On the Sunday evening after Mr. Wesley’s return to London, he brought the matter before the London society, and certainly degraded the preachers, and laid them low even in the dust at his feet. When he was gone from London, Mr. Charles, after the sacrament at the new chapel, prayed for his brother in the following words: ‘Lord, preserve him from his rebellious sons. Though they curse him, do Thou bless him. Though they wish his death, do Thou prolong his life. Lord, stand between the living and the dead, and let not the curse of pride destroy them.’”
This was strange language to use, in prayer, and after a solemn sacrament; but it was not dissimilar to the language of a “Hymn for the Rev. John Wesley,” which Charles composed, and which was “sung by the society in Bristol, on Sunday, December 5, 1779,” only a fortnight after M‘Nab’s expulsion.
Pawson was the superintendent of the London circuit, and felt it his duty to write to Charles Wesley, and remonstrate with him for using such language, at such a time, and in such a place. An interview followed; and Pawson adds: “We came to an explanation, and he was in high good humour; but I have reason to believe, he never forgave me. He made his brother believe, that Mr. M‘Nab was only the tool of a violent party among the preachers, among whom there was a very powerful combination against his authority; and that, at the next conference, they would show themselves.” Pawson adds: “There was not a single grain of truth in this. Not one preacher in the whole connexion was concerned in the business, save those who were stationed in the Bristol circuit. It is true, that the preachers in general thought that Mr. M‘Nab was cruelly used; and so they do to this day.”
Not to return to the subject, it may be added, that Dr. Whitehead states that, as the conference of 1780 drew near, Wesley “was evidently intimidated,” and wrote to his brother requesting him to attend the conference. Charles answered as follows:
“My reasons against accepting your invitation to the conference are: (1) I can do no good; (2) I can prevent no evil; (3) I am afraid of being a partaker of other men’s sins, or of countenancing them by my presence; (4) I am afraid of myself; you know I cannot command my temper, and you have not courage to stand by me. I cannot trust your resolution; unless you act with a vigour that is not in you, conclamatum est, our affairs are past hope.
“I am not sure, they will not prevail upon you to ordain them. You claim the power, and only say, ‘It is not probable you shall ever exercise it.’ Probability on one side implies probability on the other; and I want better security. So I am to stand by, and see the ruin of our cause! You know how far you may depend on me; let me know how far I may depend on you, and on our preachers. In the Bath affair, you acted with vigour for the first time; but you could not hold out. Unmindful of your power and your infirmity, you yielded to the rebel, instead of his yielding to you. You should not have employed him again till he had owned his fault. This quite overturned my confidence in you, which I should never have told you, had I not been compelled. If you think my advice can be of any use to you, I will attend you to Bristol, and be always within call.”
Poor Wesley! Wishful to repair a wrong, he had become reconciled to Mr. M‘Nab, principally by the mediation of Mr. Pawson and the preachers in London; but, by this, he had offended his brother, by whom he had been goaded to the rash act at Bath.
At the conference of 1780, M‘Nab was restored to his place among his brethren, and was appointed to Sheffield. Charles Wesley was present, and, of course, was exceedingly dissatisfied. About a fortnight after, he wrote the following letter to his brother.
“I did not hope, by my presence at the conference, to do any good, or prevent any evil. So I told you in London. Yet I accepted your invitation, only because you desired it. And as I came merely to please you, I resolved not to contradict your will in anything. Your will, I perceived, was to receive Mr. M‘Nab, unhumbled, unconvinced, into your confidence, and into your bosom. He came uninvited, and openly accused your curate for obeying your orders: you suffered it; and did not give Mr. M‘Nab the gentlest reproof for disobeying them, and drawing others into his rebellion; and endeavouring to engage all the preachers in it; making an actual separation at Bath, and still keeping up his separate society. My judgment was, never to receive Mr. M‘Nab as a preacher till he acknowledged his fault. But I submitted and attended in silence. It was much easier for me to say nothing, than to speak neither more nor less than you would approve. I was sometimes strongly tempted to speak; but, if I had opened my mouth, I should have spoiled all. Your design, I believed, was to keep all quiet. I allow you your merit. ‘Tu maximus ille, es unus qui nobis CEDENDO restituis rem.’ By a very few words, I could have provoked your preachers to lay aside the mask; but that was the very thing you guarded against; and, I suppose, the reason for which you desired my presence was that I might be some sort of check to the independents. Still, I think it better for the people, that they (the preachers) should show themselves before your death than after it. You think otherwise; and I submit. ‘Satis, jam satis spectata in te amicitia est mea;’ and I am perfectly satisfied with my own insignificancy. I have but one thing to do. The Lord make me ready for it!”
This was an angry letter of a baffled man. It was grumbling in private what ought to have been said in public, or not to have been said at all. The insinuation respecting the preachers was unfounded and unworthy. The desire that M‘Nab should acknowledge his fault was unjust, for M‘Nab was really the aggrieved party. Charles Wesley would have driven the preachers into rebellion; his brother, as ready to repair an injury as he was anxious to avoid committing one, restored unanimity and confidence. “There was nothing at the conference,” writes John Pawson, “but peace, harmony, and love.”
We only add, that Mr. M‘Nab’s subsequent appointments were honourable both to Wesley and himself. In 1780, he was sent to Sheffield; in 1781 to Manchester; and in 1782 to Newcastle. He then retired, “and resided for several years at Sheffield, where he was the pastor of a small congregation, who highly esteemed him; and there he finished his course about the year 1797.”
Mr. Smyth went back to Ireland; but, in 1782, became one of Wesley’s London curates, with a salary of sixty guineas yearly. In 1786, he was appointed minister of Bethesda chapel, Dublin; where he rent the Methodist society, and took with him above a hundred persons, amongst whom were the richer members of the Dublin Methodists. He then removed to Manchester, where he officiated as curate of St. Clement’s and St. Luke’s churches. He was the author of several publications, the chief of which were:—“The Fall and Recovery of Man. A Poem.” 1777: 12mo, 71 pages. “James Poulson further Detected.” 1778: 12mo, 58 pages. “Twelve Sermons on the most important Subjects.” 1778: 12mo, 254 pages. “St. Paul against Calvin.” 1809: 12mo, 115 pages. And “A Confutation of Calvinism.” 1810: 12mo, 391 pages.
Much space has been occupied with the disturbances at Bath; but, considering the importance of the point at issue, the facts connected with it were too important to be omitted.
The year 1779, like most previous ones, was a year of trouble. Besides the anxiety and vexation arising out of Mr. M‘Nab’s affair, Wesley was still annoyed with virulent attacks from his Calvinist opponents. His old friend, John Macgowan, published “The Foundry Budget Opened; or, the Arcanum of Wesleyanism Disclosed.” The animus of Macgowan’s pamphlet may be inferred from his motto on the title page:
He tells his readers, that “for craft and cunning sophistry, he will match the Rev. Mr. John Wesley against any man that ever stained paper with pollution”; and throughout speaks of him in the most contemptuous terms.
Of course, this was too savoury a production to pass unnoticed by the Gospel Magazine. Wesley is accused, in the review of it, with using “absurd, unscriptural jargon and contradictions”; and with “robbing Father, Son, and Spirit, of their glory as a covenant God; and exalting the sinful, proud nature of fallen man; and militating against the whole tenor of Scripture, and of reformed Christianity, as professed by all protestant churches.”
Another hostile publication was “Methodism and Popery dissected and compared; and the Doctrines of both proved to be derived from a Papal Origin.” Besides attacking Whitefield, Rowland Hill, and others, the anonymous author of this scurrilous pamphlet learnedly remarks, that “it would be less difficult to paint Proteus, in all his fabled shapes, under one distinct figure, than to describe Wesley”; whom he is pleased to honour with epithets like the following: “a living monument of apostolic frenzy”; “Jesuit”; “rank Catholic;” “actor”; and “anabaptist.”
This was far from being pleasant; but Wesley was used to it; and his character was too well established to need defence from such slanderous attacks. It may be doubted whether he took the trouble to read a tithe of the malignant diatribes launched against him.
While on the subject of books, it is due to Methodism to notice an interesting fact not generally known. The first Bible society, founded in Great Britain, and perhaps in the world, was established in 1779, and was the work of Methodists. George Cussons and John Davies, after leaving the leaders’ meeting in West Street chapel, entered into conversation, and, when near Soho Square, formed a resolution to endeavour to raise a fund for supplying soldiers with pocket Bibles. They and a dozen of their friends united themselves into a society for promoting this object. Their meetings were held once a month in the house of Mr. Dobson, of Oxford Street. John Thornton, Esq., of Clapham, became a generous subscriber. The first parcel of Bibles was sent from the vestry of Wesley’s West Street chapel; and the first sermon on behalf of the society was preached in the same chapel, by the Rev. Mr. Collins, from the appropriate words, “And the Philistines were afraid, for they said, God is come into the camp. And they said, Woe unto us! for there hath not been such a thing heretofore.” Thus arose “The Naval and Military Bible Society,”—twenty-five years before the formation of “The British and Foreign Bible Society” in 1804,—a society still in active operation, and we believe the oldest association for the circulation of the word of God, that now exists.
Wesley still employed the press, as well as pulpit, in defending and spreading truth. John Atlay was his book steward, of whose conscientiousness he had a high opinion. Hence the following unpublished letter, sent to Bradburn.
“Edinburgh, June 19, 1779.
“Dear Sammy,—I suppose John Atlay has paid the money. He is cautious to an extreme. I hear what angry men say or write; but I do not often regard it. Lemonade will cure any disorder of the bowels, (whether it be with or without purging,) in a day or two. You do well to spread the prayer-meetings up and down. They seldom are in vain. Honest Andrew Dunlop writes me word that the book money is stolen. Pray desire him to take care that the knave does not steal his teeth.
“I am, dear Sammy, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
Wesley published, in 1779, the seventeenth extract from his journal, extending from September 13, 1773, to January 2, 1776; 12mo, 82 pages.
Popery was beginning to be troublesome; for parliament, in the previous year, had passed a bill removing from the English and Irish papists the penalties and disabilities imposed upon them by the famous act, “for the further preventing the growth of popery,” enacted in 1699. Wesley had been called a papist times without number; but now, in a time of danger, he proved himself one of popery’s most trenchant opponents. His pamphlet, now issued, with the title, “Popery Calmly Considered,” 12mo, 25 pages, was one of the most timely and valuable productions of his pen. Scores of such pamphlets have been given to the public; but not one superior to Wesley’s. He writes: “In the following tract, I propose, first, to lay down and examine the chief doctrines of the Church of Rome: secondly, to show the natural tendency of a few of those doctrines; and that with all the plainness and all the calmness I can.” “Mr. J. Russell,” observes Charles Wesley, in a letter dated April 23, 1779, “tells me, some of the bitterest Calvinists are reconciled to you for the tract on popery. It should be spread immediately through the three kingdoms.” We shall meet with popery again; but, meantime, we wish the Methodist book committee and conference would do, at present, what Charles Wesley wished to be done ninety years ago. However urgent the case was in 1779, the necessity now is ninety times greater than it was then; and John Wesley’s successors will be recreant to his protestant principles unless they do their duty as he did his.
It only remains, before concluding the present chapter, to notice Wesley’s Arminian Magazine. This, like the volume for 1778, was, to a large extent, controversial, Wesley believing that “there never was more need, in the memory of man, of opposing the Horrible Decree, than at this day; for thousands, in every part of England, were still halting between two opinions, and were exceedingly perplexed on this account.” Among other pieces, intended to refute the Calvinian theory, he republished his own “Predestination Calmly Considered,” which he first printed in 1752. There are interesting lives of Bishop Bedell, Archbishop Usher, and Dr. Donne, the last mentioned by Wesley’s own pen, though never included in his collected works. There are short accounts of ten of his itinerant preachers, accompanied by their respective portraits, many of which he pronounces “really striking.” There are ninety-three letters, most of which, says he, “are closely practical and experimental.” There are about seventy poetical pieces, one of which, “Henry and Emma, a Dialogue,” fills more than fourteen pages; a sort of love story, to which objections were not unreasonably raised. Wesley acknowledged that it was “not strictly religious”; but maintains that there was “nothing in it contrary to religion, nothing that can offend the chastest ears”; that it was “one of the finest poems in the English tongue, both for sentiment and language”; and that those who could “read it without tears must have a stupid and unfeeling heart.” All this might be true; but, with all due deference to Wesley, there can hardly be two opinions, that it was out of its proper place when inserted in the Arminian Magazine.
FOOTNOTES:
Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 117.
Manuscript diary.
Manuscript letter.
Manuscripts.
“History of Methodism in Halifax.”
Manuscript diary.
How is it that there are not more Methodists in Inverness now than there were ninety years ago, in the days of good old Duncan McAllum?
Boswell’s Life of Johnson.
Methodist Magazine, 1823, p. 777.
Ibid. 1856, p. 234.
Atmore’s “Methodist Memorial.”
Methodist Magazine, 1826, p. 244.
Ibid. 1789, p. 388.
These were Pawson, Rankin, and Jaco. The committee consisted of gentlemen appointed to manage the business of City Road chapel.—(Pawson’s manuscript.)
Methodist Magazine, 1789, p. 441.
Methodist Magazine, 1789, p. 387.
Methodist Magazine, 1825, p. 456.
Methodist Magazine, 1779, p. 240.
Lady Maxwell’s Life, p. 70.
Rutherford’s Life, p. 94.
Atmore’s “Methodist Memorial.”
Manuscript letter.
Thomas Taylor, in his manuscript diary, remarks: “1780, January 14— I learned, that Mr. M‘Nab is excluded the connexion; but I cannot learn, that he has merited such treatment. A man who has been a credit to our cause, whose moral character is unblamable, and whose abilities are considerable, is expelled for his integrity and uprightness. Being very uneasy on account of the expulsion, I wrote Mr. Wesley respecting it.”
Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 132.
Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 372.
Christian Miscellany, 1849, p. 57; and “Wesley Poetry,” vol. viii., p. 415.
Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 379.
Pawson’s manuscript.
Whitehead’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 380.
Atmore’s “Methodist Memorial.”
Manuscript.
“Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon,” vol. ii., p. 202.
Life of John Valton, p. 100.
Methodist Magazine, 1823, p. 737.
The assistant of the Limerick circuit.
Methodist Magazine, 1789, p. 387.