FOOTNOTES:
1789.
Age 86
Wesley wrote:
“January 1, 1789—If this is to be the last year of my life, according to some of those prophecies, I hope it will be the best. I am not careful about it, but heartily receive the advice of the angel in Milton,—
‘How well is thine; how long, permit to Heaven.’
“January 5—I once more sat for my picture. Mr. Romney is a painter indeed. He struck off an exact likeness at once; and did more in an hour than Sir Joshua did in ten.
“January 9—I left no money to anyone in my will, because I had none. But now, considering that, whenever I am removed, money will soon arise by sale of books, I added a few legacies by a codicil, to be paid as soon as may be. But I would fain do a little good while I live; for who can tell what will come after him?”
“January 11—I again warned the congregation, as strongly as I could, against conformity to the world. But who will take the warning? If hardly one in ten, yet is my record with the Most High.”
“January 20—I retired in order to finish my year’s accounts. If possible, I must be a better economist; for, instead of having anything beforehand, I am now considerably in debt; but this I do not like. I would fain settle even my accounts before I die.”
It was at this period that the following unpublished letter was written. Duncan McAllum had been ordained by Wesley in 1787, and the reader will observe that, instead of addressing him as he addressed his preachers in general, he gives him the title of “reverend.”
“London, January 20, 1789.
“Dear Duncan,—By all means choose trustees without delay; and let them be such as belong to the circuit; only such as you can depend upon, both for judgment and honesty. I think it is by prayer that you must alter the purpose of the Earl of Findlater. I am not at all surprised at the behaviour of John Atlay. In a year or two, he will find whether he has changed for the better. He was the first occasion of the division at Dewsbury, by sending word to the trustees, that, if the conference would not supply them with preachers, he would come himself, and settle among them.
“I am, with love to sister McAllum, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.
“To the Rev. Mr. McAllum, Inverness.”
Four days later, he wrote as follows to Freeborn Garretson, in America.
“London, January 24, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—It signifies but little where we are, so we are but fully employed for our good Master. Whether you went, therefore, to the east, it is all one, so you were labouring to promote His work. You are following the order of His providence, wherever it appeared, as a holy man expressed it, in a kind of holy disordered order. But there is one expression, that occurs twice or thrice in yours, which gives me some concern: you speak of finding freedom to do this or that. This is a word much liable to be abused. If I have plain Scripture, or plain reason, for doing a thing,—well. These are my rules, and my only rules. I regard not whether I had freedom or no. This is an unscriptural expression, and a very fallacious rule. I wish to be in every point, great and small, a scriptural, rational Christian.
“I am, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
At the end of January, Wesley went to open new chapels at Rye and Winchelsea. Returning to London, the month of February was spent in preaching, in writing, in meeting classes and the local preachers, and in ordaining Henry Moore and Thomas Rankin, the last of his preachers upon whom he laid his hands.
The following anecdotes, related in the Life of Moore, belong to the present year, and are strikingly characteristic of Wesley and his friends.
One of the leading men, in the London circuit, (though not a member,) had been in the habit of receiving the sacrament from the hands of Wesley and his brother clergymen, but had fallen into sin. Henry Moore waited upon him for an explanation of his conduct, and, not being satisfied, told him he should be obliged to refuse him a note of admission to the Lord’s supper. The gentleman was annoyed, and went to one of Wesley’s clergy, whom he persuaded to apply to Wesley on his behalf. Entering the vestry while Wesley was writing the note, Moore with his honest sternness accosted him: “Sir, do you mean to give a note of admission to Mr. ——?” “Yes, Henry,” replied Wesley, “I have reason to believe the report of his conduct is a mistake.” “I have fully examined it,” answered Moore, “and I find it no mistake; and, if you give him a note, I shall not take the sacrament myself.” Wesley, in reply, observed, “I would take the sacrament if the devil himself were there.” “So would I,” said Moore, “but not if you gave him a note of admission.” The Irishman came off with flying colours; for Wesley put the note into the fire, and left the erring one to think and to repent.
Mrs. Hall was Wesley’s only surviving sister, and was an inmate of his house, but not a Methodist. One day, the two called on Henry Moore. “Brother,” said Mrs. Hall, “I should like to attend the religious meetings of your people. Have I your leave?” “O yes,” said he, “you may go to them.” “Then,” rejoined this friend of the great Dr. Johnson, “having your permission, I shall not ask that of any one else.” “Yes, you must;” replied her brother, remembering that Moore was circuit assistant, “when I am not here, you must ask leave of Henry Moore.”
In these days, it was customary for the itinerant and local preachers to take breakfast together, on Sunday mornings, at City Road. On one occasion, when Wesley was present, a young man rose and found fault with one of his seniors. The Scotch blood of Thomas Rankin was roused, and he sharply rebuked the juvenile for his impertinence; but, in turn, was as sharply rebuked himself. Wesley instantly replied: “I will thank the youngest man among you to tell me of any fault you see in me; in doing so, I shall consider him as my best friend.” This was quite enough to silence Rankin.
“Henry Moore,” said Wesley, “you are a witness that what John Atlay said, when he left us, is untrue. He said, ‘Mr. Wesley could never bear a man who contradicted him.’ Now no man in England has contradicted me as much as you have done; and yet, Henry, I love you still. You are right.”
Hundreds of such anecdotes might be given: these must serve as specimens.
On Sunday, the 1st of March, after preaching to two crowded congregations, in City Road, Wesley and three of his preachers took coach for Bath; and “spent,” says he, “a comfortable night, partly in sound sleep, and partly in singing praise to God.” Such, after a hard day, at seven o’clock in a winter’s night, was the start of an old man of eighty-six, on a five months’ preaching tour!
At Bath and Bristol, he spent a fortnight, in preaching and meeting classes, and then set out for Ireland. On the way, he preached at Stroud, Gloucester, and Tewkesbury. At Birmingham, he opened a new chapel, and remarks: “Saturday, March 21—I had a day of rest, only preaching morning and evening.” The passage from Holyhead, instead of occupying four hours, as at present, occupied thirty-six, and, during it, the venerable voyager was a serious sufferer. “I do not remember,” he writes, “that I was ever so sick at sea before; but this was little to the cramp which held most of the night with little intermission.” He arrived at Dublin quay at eight on Sunday morning, and, notwithstanding the illness from which he had suffered, went direct to Dublin chapel, and “preached on the sickness and recovery of King Hezekiah and King George,” and afterwards administered the sacrament to about five hundred people.
At this sacramental service, he employed his assistant, William Myles, in giving the cup to the communicants; an act which occasioned huge offence, for William Myles was not ordained. In the week following, a long paragraph appeared in the Dublin Evening Post, setting forth, that “the Church was in danger! and calling upon the archbishop to use his authority; for a Mr. William Myles, a layman, had assisted Mr. Wesley in administering the Lord’s supper; the greatest innovation that had been witnessed for the last fifty years!” “This brought on,” says Mr. Myles, “a newspaper controversy, which continued for three months. My name was bandied about to some purpose; but I endeavoured in patience to possess my soul. At the expiration of the three months, the subscribers desired the printer to put no more Methodist nonsense into his paper; and he had the good sense to listen to the requisition of his customers, which happily terminated this exquisitely silly controversy.”
On Wesley’s arrival at Dublin, he had, to use his own expression, “letter upon letter,” concerning the alteration in the Sunday service, which had been introduced by Dr. Coke; and, hence, he addressed the following.
“To certain Persons in Dublin.
“Whitefriar Street, Dublin, March 31, 1789.
“My dear Brethren,—I much approve of the manner and spirit wherein you write concerning these tender points. I explained myself upon them, in some measure, on Sunday: I will do it more fully now.
“At present, I have nothing to do with Dr. Coke: but I answer for myself. I do not separate from the Church, nor have any intention so to do. Neither do they, that meet on Sunday noon, separate from the Church, any more than they did before: nay, less; for they attend the church and sacrament oftener now than they did two years ago.
“‘But this occasions much strife.’ True; but they make the strife who do not attend the service. Let them quietly either come or stay away, and there will be no strife at all.
“‘But those that attend say, those that do not are fallen from grace.’ No, they do not give them a bad word; but they surely will fall from grace, if they do not let them alone who follow their own consciences.
“But you ‘fear this will make way for a total separation from the Church.’ You have no ground for this fear. There can be no such separation while I live. Leave to God what may come after.
“But, to speak plainly, do not you separate from the Church? Yea, much more than those you blame? Pray, how often have you been at church since Christmas? Twelve times in twelve weeks? And how long have you been so fond of the Church? Are you fond of it at all? Do not you go oftener to a Dissenting meeting than either to St. Patrick’s, or your parish church?
“My dear brethren, you and I have but a short time to stay together. ‘My race of glory is run, and race of shame; and I shall shortly be with those that rest.’ Therefore, as one that loves you well, and has loved you long, I advise you, in the presence and in the fear of God: (1) Either quietly attend the Sunday service, or quietly refrain from it; then there will be no strife at all. Now you make the strife of which you complain. (2) Make not this a pretence for being weary of well doing. Do not, for so poor a reason, withdraw your subscription from the school or the preachers. What a miserable revenge would this be! Never let it be said, that my friend A—— K——, that brother D——, or B——, were capable of this. From this hour, let this idle strife be buried in eternal oblivion. Talk not of it any more. If it be possible, think not of it any more. Rather think, ‘the Judge standeth at the door;’ let us prepare to meet our God!
“John Wesley.”
Such was Wesley’s attempt to defend the Dublin Methodist service in church hours; or rather, such was his attack on those who were opposed to it. No doubt his accusations were founded upon facts; but this was hardly an answer to the argument of objectors, that having service in church hours was, ipso facto, separation from the Church. He tells us, that one consequence of Dr. Coke’s new arrangement was, that three times more Methodists now went to St. Patrick’s, on the first Sunday in every month, than had done for ten or twenty years before; and that, on the first Sunday of April, when he went himself, many of them went with him; the number of communicants being about five hundred, or, in other words, more communicants, on that single Sunday, than St. Patrick’s used to have the whole year round, before the Methodists were known in Ireland. The arrangement, says Wesley, that the Methodists in Dublin should have service in church hours, “on condition that they would attend St. Patrick’s every first Sunday in the month, was made, not to prepare for, but to prevent, a separation from the Church.” There can be no question, that this was Wesley’s wish; but it may be doubted whether it was Dr. Coke’s intention.
During this Dublin fracas, Wesley sent, at least, one letter to the public papers. The following is an extract.
“To the Printer of the ‘Dublin Chronicle.’
“Londonderry, June 2, 1789.
“Sir,—As soon as I was gone from Dublin, the Observer came forth, only with his face covered. Afterwards, he came out, under another name, and made a silly defence for me, that he might have the honour of answering it. His words are smoother than oil, and flow (who can doubt it?) from mere love both to me and the people.
“But what does this smooth, candid writer endeavour to prove, with all the softness and good humour imaginable? Only this point, (to explain it in plain English,) that I am a double tongued knave, an old crafty hypocrite, who have used religion merely for a cloak, and have worn a mask for these fifty years, saying one thing and meaning another. A bold charge this, only it happens that matter of fact contradicts it from beginning to end.”
Wesley then proceeds to give an outline of his history from his youth to the time when he took the French churches in West Street, Seven Dials, and in Spitalfields, and he and his brother began to preach in them in church hours; and states that the two archbishops of Canterbury, Potter and Secker, and the two bishops of London, Gibson and Lowth, never blamed them for this, or thought or called it separation from the Church; only, on one occasion, Archbishop Potter said: “These gentlemen are irregular; but they have done good, and I pray God to bless them.” Wesley continues:
“It may be observed that, all this time, if my brother or I were ill, I desired one of our other preachers, though not ordained, to preach in either of the chapels, after reading part of the Church prayers. This both my brother and I judged would endear the Church prayers to them, whereas, if they were used wholly to extemporary prayer, they would naturally contract a kind of contempt, if not aversion, to forms of prayer; so careful were we, from the beginning, to prevent their leaving the Church.
“When the Rev. Mr. Edward Smyth came to live in Dublin, he earnestly advised me to leave the Church; meaning thereby, (as all sensible men do,) to renounce all connection with it, to attend the services of it no more, and to advise all our societies to take the same steps. I judged this to be a matter of great importance, and would, therefore, do nothing hastily; but referred it to the body of preachers, then met in conference. We had several meetings, in which he proposed all his reasons for it at large. They were severally considered, and answered, and we all determined not to leave the Church.
“A year ago, Dr. Coke began officiating at our chapel in Dublin. This was no more than had been done in London for between forty and fifty years. Some persons immediately began to cry out, ‘This is leaving the Church, which Mr. Wesley has continually declared he would never do.’ And I declare so still. But I appeal to all the world, I appeal to common sense, I appeal to the Observer himself, could I mean hereby, ‘I will not have service in church hours’? No; but I denied, and do deny still, that this is leaving the Church, either in the sense of Bishop Gibson, or of Mr. Smyth at the Dublin conference. Yet, by this outcry, many well meaning people were frighted well-nigh out of their senses.
“‘But see the consequence of having Sunday service here! See the confusion this occasioned!’ Some time since, while a popular preacher was preaching at Leeds, one cried out, ‘Fire! Fire!’ The people took fright, some leaped over the gallery, and several legs and arms were broken. But upon whom were these consequences to be charged? Not on the preacher, but on him that made the outcry. Apply this to the present case. I have kindled no more fire in Dublin than I did in London. It is the Observer and a few other mischief makers, who fright the people out of their senses; and they must answer to God for the consequence.
“This is my answer to them that trouble me, and will not let my grey hairs go down to the grave in peace. I am not a man of duplicity; I am not an old hypocrite, a double tongued knave. More than forty years, I have frequented Ireland. I have wished to do some good here. I now tell a plain tale, that ‘the good that is in me may not be evil spoken of.’ I have no temporal end to serve. I seek not the honour that cometh of men. It is not for pleasure, that, at this time of life, I travel three or four thousand miles a year. It is not for gain.
“John Wesley.
“P.S. At the desire of a friend, I add a few words in answer to one or two other objections.
“First. When I said, ‘I believe I am a scriptural bishop,’ I spoke on Lord King’s supposition, that bishops and presbyters are essentially one order.
“Secondly. I did desire Mr. Myles to assist me in delivering the cup. Now, be this right or wrong, how does it prove the point now in question, that I leave the Church? I ask (2) What law of the Church forbids this? And (3) What law of the primitive church? Did not the priest in the primitive church send both the bread and wine to the sick by whom he pleased, though not ordained at all?
“Thirdly. The Observer affirms, ‘To say you will not leave the church, meaning thereby all true believers in England, is trifling.’ Certainly; but I do not mean so when I say, ‘I will not leave the Church.’ I mean, unless I see more reason for it than I ever yet saw, I will not leave the Church of England as by law established, while the breath of God is in my nostrils.”
Such was Wesley’s manifesto in 1789; in reality, a defence of a thing he had often condemned,—Methodist service in church hours.
While Wesley was thus attacked in the public press, he met with the greatest respect and attention from several persons of distinguished rank in Dublin and its environs; the Earl of Moira among the number. “They seemed,” says Mr. Myles, “to think it a blessing to have him beneath their roof.” Many of them flocked to hear him, on Good Friday, when he preached, morning and evening, in the elegant chapel of his old clerical dissenting friend, the Rev. Edward Smyth. Neither grand people, however, nor grand chapels, were at all prized by Wesley, except as they furnished opportunities of Christian usefulness. “At both times on Good Friday,” says he, “we had a brilliant congregation, among whom were honourable and right honourable persons; but I felt they were all given into my hands; for God was in the midst. What a mercy it is, what a marvellous condescension in God, to provide such places as Bethesda, and Lady Huntingdon’s chapels, for these delicate hearers, who could not bear sound doctrine if it were not set off with these pretty trifles!”
Dublin was not the only place which, at this time, gave Wesley trouble. The Dewsbury circuit was entirely wrested by his traitorous book steward; and now, the same rebellion against giving Wesley, and (after his death) Wesley’s conference, the sole power to appoint preachers, was showing itself at Shields. Hence the following, addressed to the three itinerant preachers stationed in the Newcastle circuit.
“Dublin, April 11, 1789.
“I require you three, Peter Mill, Joseph Thompson, and John Stamp, without consulting or regarding any person whatever, to require a positive answer of Edward Coats, within three weeks after the receipt of this, ‘Will you, or will you not, settle the house at Milburn Place, North Shields, on the Methodist plan?’ If he will not do it within another week, I farther require that none of you preach in that house, unless you will renounce all connection with your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.
“I am at a point. I will be trifled with no longer.”
Was this more hasty than wise? John Pawson seemed to think so. The following is taken from one of his unpublished letters, to Charles Atmore, dated “Leeds, May 9, 1789.”
“What a pity it is that Mr. Wesley will pursue these violent measures! If he goes thus, there will be divisions upon divisions among us. Mr. Hanby informs me, that, at North and South Shields, and at Alnwick, they refuse to settle their houses upon the conference plan; and, at Newcastle, they have been talking of building a chapel for the Rev. Mr. Collins, and of inviting some of the best preachers to settle among them, and make a circuit by themselves. I suppose Mr. Sagar would tell you, they had strange commotions among them when he was there.”
But even this was not all. In 1785, Wesley ordained John Pawson and Thomas Hanby for Scotland; where, for two years, they had administered the sacraments, and had preached in gown and bands. In 1787, as already stated, he brought them back to England, commanded them to doff their canonicals, and, being in England, to discontinue their sacramental services. This, to Pawson, was exceedingly annoying; but he hardly had the pluck of Hanby in resisting it. Hanby and Joseph Taylor, (who had also been ordained, and was in the same dubious position,) were now stationed in the Nottingham circuit; and many of the Methodists, aware of their ordination, naturally wished them to administer to them the Christian ordinances; but this Wesley imperiously prohibited. Taylor yielded; Hanby persisted. The following extracts, from two of his unprinted letters, will be read with interest. The first was addressed to James Oddie; the second to Richard Rodda.
“Grantham, May 21, 1789.
“My very dear Brother,—I have been in deep waters on account of my administering the Lord’s supper, which I think it my duty to do, especially to those who, for conscience sake, cannot go to church. Mr. Wesley ordered me to desist. I told him, if I did, I should sin, because I was persuaded it was my duty. Then he instructed the London clergy and preachers to take me in hand. I have received their letter, and have replied, that I must still do as I have done; and that, if Mr. Wesley has given me up into their hands, they must act according to their own judgment; for what I was now doing was from a Divine conviction of my duty. Thus the matter rests. For some time, I have expected another preacher to take my place; but, as he has not come, perhaps, they will refer the matter to conference. Mr. Wesley has ordered Joseph Taylor, (who opposes me all he can,) to remove the leaders who have promoted the sacraments; if he does so, I expect there will be a division.
“See, my brother, my situation. I am much afraid of myself, lest I should defile my conscience by yielding to the importunity of the preachers. I am of all others the most improper person to make a stand in defence of Christ’s precious and most neglected ordinance. However, hitherto, through infinite mercy, I have been firm and immovable; and our solemnities are much owned of God; and I have much employment in the sacred service. I meet with great opposition from the high church bigots; but yet there are many, who will stand by me, let the consequence be what it will.
“Let me hear from you soon; and advise your very affectionate friend and brother,
“Thomas Hanby.”
“Plumtree, June 4, 1789.
“My dear Friend,—O yes! my sin is not to be forgiven unless I repent, which I cannot do. That is too late, because I cannot seek it with tears. Mr. Wesley has declared, that he will exclude the preachers who administer the Lord’s supper in England. For some time, I have expected to be unshipped; but whether hands are scarce, or I am to be permitted to finish my voyage, which will be the last week in July, I cannot tell.
“I came under no such obligations to Mr. Wesley, not to administer in England. If this prohibition had been laid upon me, I hope I should have refused his offer of nothing. I am in the fire, but, like the salamander, I live there. I am up to the chin in deep waters; but not drowned. Mr. Mather sent me a threatening bull; Mr. Wesley a second; and, to complete the work, the clergy in London, Mr. Rankin and Mr. Moore, joined their artillery. The last in command is my colleague, Joseph Taylor, who opposes me with the utmost warmth. You will readily conclude, ‘Poor Hanby will be overpowered by numbers.’ True; but I still keep the field, for all that, and mean to die there. I am single handed, for my brethren, who promised to support me, have deserted to the strongest party, not an unusual case. I grant, that those who are called to preach have an equal right to administer; but do not talk of ‘depreciating ordination.’ Mr. Wesley did that, seven years ago, when he published in the newspapers those who had presumed to be ordained by the Greek bishop. I expect, he will depreciate me, though he himself ordained me, and commanded me to administer the ordinances in the church of God.
“When the great opposition against the sacraments was formed, Mr. Taylor had administered once; and I had promised to do so in two other places; and when my engagements were fulfilled, I proposed to desist from proceeding further, (as he had done,) for I saw there was no withstanding so formidable a body. However, I was brought into deep distress of mind, by the earnest request of the people, who had not communicated for years, and who would not communicate with drinking, whoring, swearing, and fighting parsons. The Lord let me see that His ordinance was become obsolete, and that it was an unreasonable stretch of power, in any human creature, to say, ‘If you will not communicate with these wicked men, you shall not communicate at all.’ This appeared to me as an abrogation of Christ’s commanded ordinance, for which no one, either man or angel, had authority. I saw it was my duty to stand forth in defence of this ordinance, and to suffer for it; for suffer I am sure to do. Mr. Wesley, for many years, has treated me contemptuously, putting me beneath the weakest and most suspicious characters, (viz. Briscoe and Fenwick,) and, therefore, I expect no favour in that quarter.
“I begin to look out for some poor cottage, to which I may retire, and wait the opening of Providence. ‘Vox populi vox Dei,’ is my motto; and, whatever others may say or think of me, I have no other motive but the principle of Divine love. I can promise my sect neither riches nor honour, by my opposition to the conference; but quite the reverse. To be expelled the connexion, after thirty-five years of uninterrupted labour, is, to me, a very painful thought; but I see I must suffer it; and shall only take away with me this motto, ‘Driven from Methodism for defending the injured, and nearly abrogated and obsolete, ordinance of Christ.’ Farewell, Mr. Wesley! Farewell, Mr. Rodda! Farewell, conference!
“I have written Mr. Wesley my reasons for acting in opposition to his will, and my reasons why I must still act as I do; but he has given me no answer. Well, I am nothing. I only want to be the servant of God; and I see I must be His servant in His own way. If we may judge of the propriety of our action, by His sacred presence, I can assure you the tokens of that presence are wonderfully manifested in our assemblies.
“Many of the people in this circuit intend to apply again for the ordinance; and, perhaps, their petition will be treated with the same contempt as their last was at Manchester.
“I am your very affectionate, and much obliged friend and brother,
“Thomas Hanby.”
This was a painful state of things; Dewsbury, Shields, Nottingham, and Dublin, in rebellion; and now Thomas Hanby, ordained by Wesley, and one of his best preachers, in danger of expulsion, for doing what he deemed to be his duty. Fortunately, this unbending minister was saved; and became the elected president of the fourth conference that was held after Wesley’s death. On Christmas day, in 1796, he preached thrice in Nottingham, and met four or five classes for the renewal of their quarterly tickets. This was his last labour of love. Four days afterwards, he died, saying: “I am departing; but I have fought a good fight.”
Wesley left Dublin, on his preaching tour through the Irish provinces, on the 13th of April, and returned on the 19th of June. In this nine weeks’ journey he preached about a hundred sermons, in more than sixty different towns and villages, at least a dozen times in the open air, half-a-dozen times in churches, and once in a place which, he says, was “large, but not elegant—a cow house.”
During a part of the time, he was seriously unwell, being attacked with a complaint which was new to him, diabetes. He wrote to London for the advice of Dr. Whitehead, and, though the disease abated under the doctor’s treatment, he suffered from it, more or less, to the time of his decease.
“I was delighted,” says Mr. Alexander Knox, “to find his cheerfulness in no respect abated. It was too obvious that his bodily frame was sinking; but his spirit was as alert as ever; and he was little less the life of the company he happened to be in, than he had been three-and-twenty years before, when I first knew him. Such unclouded sunshine of the breast, in the deepest winter of age, and on the felt verge of eternity, bespoke a mind whose recollections were as unsullied as its present sensations were serene.”
In illustration of Mr. Knox’s testimony, an anecdote may be added. At this time, Mr. (afterwards the Rev.) Joseph Burgess was quartermaster of a regiment of soldiers in Sligo barracks, and had the honour of entertaining Wesley as his guest. A large party of friends were assembled to meet the venerable visitor at dinner; and, while the meal was in progress, he suddenly laid down his knife and fork, clasped his hands, and lifted up his eyes, as in the attitude of praise and prayer. In an instant, feasting was suspended, and all the guests were silent. Wesley then gave out, and sang with great animation,
The happy old man, so near to the gates of heaven, then quietly resumed his knife and fork; and all felt that this beautiful spontaneous episode, in the midst of an Irish dinner, had done them good.
Wesley spent three weeks more in Dublin and its vicinity. He visited the classes, which contained above a thousand members, after he had excluded about a hundred. He also held his Irish conference, at which, of the sixty preachers then employed in the sister island, between forty and fifty were present. He writes:
“I found such a body of men as I hardly believed could have been found together in Ireland; men of so sound experience, so deep piety, and so strong understanding. I am convinced, they are no way inferior to the English conference, except it be in number. I never saw such a number of preachers before, so unanimous in all points, particularly as to leaving the Church, which none of them had the least thought of. It is no wonder, that there has been this year so large an increase of the society.”
On the conference Sunday, Wesley and his preachers, and a large number of the Dublin Methodists, attended the service in St. Patrick’s. “The dean,” says he, “preached a serious, useful sermon; and we had such a company of communicants as, I suppose, had scarce been seen there together, for above a hundred years.”
On his birthday he wrote:
“June 28.—This day I enter on my eighty-sixth year. I now find, I grow old: (1) My sight is decayed; so that I cannot read a small print, unless in a strong light. (2) My strength is decayed; so that I walk much slower than I did some years since. (3) My memory of names, whether of persons or places, is decayed; till I stop a little to recollect them. What I should be afraid of, is, if I took thought for the morrow, that my body should weigh down my mind; and create either stubbornness, by the decrease of my understanding, or peevishness, by the increase of bodily infirmities: but Thou shalt answer for me, O Lord my God.”
At length, on July 12, Wesley bid adieu to the shores of Ireland, for ever. It was a touching scene. Multitudes followed him to the ship. Before he went on board, he read a hymn; and the crowd, as far as emotion would let them, joined the sainted patriarch in singing. He then dropped upon his knees, and asked God to bless them, their families, the Church, and Ireland. Shaking of hands followed; many wept most profusely; and not a few fell on the old man’s neck and kissed him. He stepped on deck; the vessel moved; and then, with his hands still lifted up in prayer, the winds of heaven wafted him from an island which he dearly loved; and the warm hearted Irish Methodists “saw his face no more.”
Before proceeding with Wesley’s history, another selection from his letters may be welcome. The first was addressed to a man who deserves a passing notice.
Walter Churchey was an enthusiastic Welshman; a lawyer with a large family and a slender purse; a good, earnest, conceited old Methodist, who, unfortunately for his wife and children, had more delight in writing poetry than he had employment in preparing briefs. He was one of Wesley’s correspondents as early as 1771; exchanged letters with Wesley’s brother Charles; was an acquaintance of the saintly Fletcher; and an intimate friend of Joseph Benson and Dr. Coke. He claimed the honour, which belonged to others, of having first suggested to Wesley the publishing of his Arminian Magazine; and, in a manuscript letter before us, states that he it was who originated the scheme for reducing what he calls “the national debt” of Methodism in the year 1800. He was a good man, though perhaps flighty, very diligent but very poor, a warm admirer of Methodist doctrine, but withal a millenarian, who wrote, in the letter just mentioned: “I have lost my friend, Wesley; but I shall see him again, perhaps soon, even upon earth, where the sufferers for Christ are to rise to reign in His spiritual kingdom on earth a thousand years. I grow daily a greater Brotherite.”
In 1786, Churchey wished to enrich the world with his poetical productions; and, among others, consulted Wesley and the poet Cowper. The latter, in reply, remarked: “I find your versification smooth, your language correct and forcible, and especially in your translation of the Art of Printing. But you ask me, would I advise you to publish? I would advise every man to publish, whose subjects are well chosen, whose sentiments are just, and who can afford to be a loser, if that should happen, by his publication.”
Thus encouraged, the sanguine Welshman set to work; Wesley helped him in obtaining subscribers; the poems were published; the reviewers were revilers; and poor Churchey was poorer than ever.
The following letters, among others, were addressed to this worthy, but needy man. The first and second have not before been published.
“London, February 11, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—On Monday, March 2, I hope to be in Bath or Bristol, and then we may talk about the number of copies. I have been much more concerned than you, for these sixty years, in printing books, both with and without subscription; and I still think, with all our skill and industry, we shall be hard set to procure three hundred subscribers. Perhaps three hundred may promise; but we must never imagine that all who promise will perform. But of this we may talk more, when we meet at Bristol.
“I suppose every one that loves King George loves Mr. Pitt. Peace be with all your spirits!
“I am your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”
“Clones, May 25, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—I am afraid of delay. I doubt, I shall not be able to be as good as our word, although, in the last proposals, I have protracted the time of delivery till the 1st of August. As you are not a stripling, I wonder you have not yet learnt the difference between promise and performance. I allow, at least, five-and-twenty per cent; and, from this conviction, I say to each of my subscribers (what, indeed, you cannot say so decently to yours), ‘Sir, down with your money.’
“I know Dr. Ogilvie well. He is a lovely man and an excellent poet. I commend you for inoculating the children. I believe the hand of God is in our present work: therefore, it must prosper. Indeed, I love sister Churchey, and am your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
The following, besides referring to Churchey’s poems, is possessed of interest as containing an allusion to the prayer-book published in 1788; and also Wesley’s final testimony concerning the great philanthropist, John Howard, who died seven months afterwards.
“Dublin, June 20, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—Michael —— is an original. He tells lies innumerable, many of them plausible enough. But many talk full as plausibly as he; and they that can believe him, may.
“I do not doubt, but some part of your verse, as well as prose, will reach the hearts of some of the rich.
“Dr. Coke made two or three little alterations in the prayer-book without my knowledge. I took particular care throughout, to alter nothing merely for altering’s sake. In religion, I am for as few innovations as possible; I love the old wine best. And if it were only on this account, I prefer ‘which’ before ‘who art in heaven.’
“Mr. Howard is really an extraordinary man. God has raised him up to be a blessing to many nations. I do not doubt, but there has been something more than natural in his preservation hitherto, and should not wonder if the providence of God should hereafter be still more conspicuous in his favour.
“About three weeks hence, I expect to embark for England. Peace be with you and yours!
“I am your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”
While in Ireland, Wesley was troubled with the affairs of Scotland. Two years before this, John Pawson, eager to exercise his newly acquired episcopal or presbyterian power,—whichever the reader has a mind to call it,—began, in Glasgow, a species of Methodism, which was not Wesley’s, but his own. He ordained seven elders, who were to meet weekly, and to have the supervision of the temporal and spiritual affairs of the Glasgow Methodists. In a book, Pawson wrote the rules, which were to regulate their conduct. Among others, one regulation was, that no person should be admitted into the society, or be expelled from it, but by a majority of these ordained elders; for, though the itinerant preacher might preside at their meetings, he was not allowed to vote. No doubt, honest but simple Pawson expected good and great results. The elders, however, like Pawson, had no notion of being invested with ecclesiastical office without using it; and, hence, all sorts of paltry cases were got up, apparently for the purpose of enabling the newly fledged elders to show their skill in settling them. One must suffice, as a specimen. Thomas Tassey, the most vigilant and active of the official seven, alleged that Peggy —— had become a lodger with Peggy ——, and had committed theft; and that, as the time for the administration of the sacrament was approaching, the charge against Peggy —— ought to be judicially examined. Accordingly, a sessions was appointed. The elders, the accuser, the accused, and the witnesses were present. Beside these, there were also the two circuit preachers, Jonathan Crowther and Joseph Cownley, whom Crowther justly designates “two poor ciphers,” seeing, though they might preside, they had no power to vote. The charge was, that when Peggy —— went to lodge with Peggy ——, the latter Peggy bought half an ounce of tea, and a farthing’s worth of oil; that these household provisions did not last so long as usual; and that the probability was, that the property of Peggy —— had, to some extent, been feloniously appropriated by her lodger, Peggy ——. The affair was so serious, and withal so solemnly conducted, that it became needful to adjourn. At the second sessions, Crowther (who, though not allowed to vote, had a right to examine witnesses), asked the Peggy whose property was in question, how often she had made herself tea out of the half ounce, part of which had been stolen. Peggy dolorously answered, “Only seven times.” She was then examined respecting her farthing’s worth of oil; and it was ascertained, that, though it had not lasted as long as usual, she had been using a new feather in applying it; and it was thought that the new feather might have absorbed the quantity which Peggy, the lodger, was accused of stealing.
So the matter ended. Jonathan Crowther was disgusted, and told Pawson’s ordained elders, that their discipline resembled the wisdom of Solomon, for it took cognisance of everything, from the hyssop on the wall to the cedars of mount Lebanon. The system had been instituted by Pawson, one of Wesley’s confidential friends, and a preacher of seventeen years’ standing. Crowther was young and inexperienced, only in the fifth year of his itinerant life; but he was gifted with common sense, and saw that, if this ordained machinery was continued, Methodism must be ruined. Wesley had been in Scotland twelve months before; but, strangely enough, appears to have been kept in ignorance of the new court at Glasgow. At all events, Jonathan Crowther now wrote to him; and received the following decisive answer.
“Cork, May 10, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—‘Sessions’! ‘elders’! We Methodists have no such custom, neither any of the churches of God that are under our care. I require you, Jonathan Crowther, immediately to dissolve that session (so called) at Glasgow. Discharge them from meeting any more. And if they will leave the society, let them leave it. We acknowledge only preachers, stewards, and leaders among us, over which the assistant in each circuit presides. You ought to have kept to the Methodist plan from the beginning. Who had my authority to vary from it? If the people of Glasgow, or any other place, are weary of us, we will leave them to themselves. But we are willing to be still their servants, for Christ’s sake, according to our own discipline, but no other.
“John Wesley.”
Before accompanying Wesley on his way back to England, we insert another letter, which is abridged in Wesley’s collected works. Adam Clarke was in the isle of Jersey; but Wesley wished him to remove to Dublin, on account of the disturbed state of the society in that city. His old friend, the Rev. Edward Smyth, was now one of his bitter enemies. Hence the following.
“Near Dublin, June 25, 1789.
“Dear Adam,—You send me good news with regard to the islands. Who can hurt us, if God is on our side? Trials may come, but they are all good. I have not been so tried for many years. Every week and almost every day, I am bespattered in the public papers, either by Mr. Smyth, or by Mr. Mann, his curate. Smooth, but bitter as wormwood, are their words; and five or six of our richest members have left the society, because (they say) ‘I have left the Church.’ Many are in tears on account of it; and many are terribly frightened, and crying out, ‘Oh! what will the end be?’ What will it be? Why, ‘Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, and goodwill among men.’
“But, meantime, what is to be done? What will be the most effectual means to stem this furious torrent? I have just visited the classes, and find still in the society upwards of a thousand members; and, among these, many as deep Christians as any I have met with in Europe. But who is able to watch over them, that they may not be moved from their steadfastness? I know none more proper than Adam Clarke and his wife. Indeed, it may seem hard for them to go into a strange land again. Well, you may come to me at Leeds, at the latter end of next month; and if you can show me any that are more proper, I will send them in your stead. That God may be glorified, is all that is desired by, dear Adam,
“Your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
It has been already stated, that Wesley embarked for England on July 12. William Myles was with him, and says: “We had a pleasant passage; Mr. Wesley preached, and we sang hymns most of the way.” The passage lasted about six-and-thirty hours.
After holding services at Chester and Northwich, Wesley made his way to Manchester, where he and Coke administered the sacrament to about twelve hundred communicants. At Dewsbury, where John Atlay had taken both the Methodists and their chapel, Wesley preached out of doors, in a drenching rain. He then proceeded to Leeds for the purpose of holding his annual conference; and, on the day before it began its sessions, preached from what would be a good conference text at the present time: “O Timothy, keep that which is committed to thy trust, avoiding profane and vain babblings, and oppositions of science falsely so called.”
As usual, Wesley, besides conducting the business of the conference, preached every day during its sittings; and his texts throughout were equally well timed, namely: “Train up a child in the way he should go; and when he is old he will not depart from it.” “We through the Spirit wait for the hope of righteousness by faith.” “Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh.” “To the weak became I as weak, that I might gain the weak; I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save some.” “Well, Master, Thou hast said the truth; for there is one God; and there is none other but He.” “I have a message from God unto thee.” “If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God.” Here was a word in season for every one. Rare was the treat to attend a conference like this. On the conference Sunday, Wesley seems to have devolved the preaching upon others; but the day was not an idle one. He writes: “with the assistance of three other clergymen, I administered the sacrament to fifteen or sixteen hundred persons.” When and where are such sacramental services held at present?
What may be called the conference sermon was preached by a local preacher, perhaps the only instance of the kind in Methodism’s history. James Hamilton, M.D., was the preacher; his text, “Trust ye not in lying words, saying, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, are these.” His sermon was printed, and was sold “at the Rev. Mr. Wesley’s preaching houses in town and country,” with the following title: “A Sermon preached at Leeds, July 29, 1789, before the Methodist Preachers, assembled in Conference, and a large body of the people in connection with them; and now published at the request of many of the Hearers.”
This also was a sermon for the times, and evidently had Wesley’s approbation. Its gist may be gathered from a few brief extracts.
After dwelling on the functions of the priests and scribes of the Jewish church, the preacher said:
“But as all external religion is of no use, any farther than as it advances the spiritual kingdom of Christ in the soul; and as the Jews too often lost sight of this, resting in their types and ceremonies, God called a race of men, named prophets, who had nothing to do with the priesthood; men full of the Holy Ghost; and sent them to declare that all external religion is nothing worth, when it fails to produce purity of heart. The prophets were, (with two or three exceptions,) what we call laymen,—taken from the common occupations in Judæa, chiefly farmers and shepherds,—holy men, men of strong faith, their hearts overflowing with zeal for the honour of God,—men of invincible courage, practising the strictest temperance, and clothed in the plainest manner.”
Dr. Hamilton then proceeded to argue, that Methodist preachers bore some analogy to these special messengers of God in ancient times; and after an affectionate allusion to the two Wesleys, and to Whitefield, continued:
“And here mark the Divine wisdom. Although their brother priests in the Church thrust them from them, and although their names were cast out as evil above the names of all men, they ever retained a strong and affectionate attachment to the men who had thus abused them, and to the Church of which they were members; and this has been, in the overruling hand of God, the great means of carrying on that glorious spiritual work which we now behold. Had it not been for this attachment, the Methodists would have, long ere this, become a distinct body, separate from the Church and all others; and, I fear, in consequence thereof, would have sunk into the dead formality of the numerous sects, with which the world is harassed and divided.”
Then proceeding to address the assembled conference, the preacher added:
“Will ye bear with me, ye spiritual messengers of the Lord, while I presume to say a few words to you? See with what a holy calling ye are called; for what a glorious and important end God has raised you up! Even to set spiritual religion before the eyes of all men; to cry to men of all opinions, sects, and parties, ‘Trust not unto lying words, saying, The temple of the Lord are these’; to bring them, from resting in external duties, to the possession of internal holiness; from an opinion in the head, to the love of God in the heart. Let then the dead bury their dead! Let the formalist and the pharisee, the church bigot and the sectary, contend for ways of thinking, gestures in worship, and modes of church government; but may ye never forget, that ye are sent for a nobler end; that your commission is the same as Paul’s, not to baptize, but to preach the gospel. Although I am neither a prophet, nor the son of a prophet; yet forgive me when I express my fears, that, if ever the Methodists leave their several churches; if ever ye set up as a separate people by external distinctions and creeds; if ye substitute a silken gown and sash for rough garments and a leathern girdle, and call one another, Rabbi! Rabbi! then the glory will depart from you, and God will raise up another people. He will call other lay preachers, no matter by what name; and He will send them to call you from opinions and forms, and to sound in your ears, ‘Trust not unto lying words, saying, The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord are these.’”
Hamilton’s sermon, to say the least, was ingenious; and referring as it does to the great topic of the day, separation from the Church, these extracts will not be regarded as out of place.
Wesley says, there were about a hundred preachers present at the conference; Atmore says, about a hundred and thirty; be that as it may, one hundred and fifteen of them signed a declaration, that they entirely approved of Methodist chapels being settled on the conference plan; and, among these, were several who, soon after, distinguished themselves as Methodist reformers, namely, William Thom, Henry Taylor, and Alexander Kilham.
The principal subjects discussed are thus referred to in Wesley’s journal.
“July 28—The case of separation from the Church was largely considered, and we were all unanimous against it. August 1—We considered the case of Dewsbury house, which the self elected trustees have robbed us of. The point they contended for was this,—that they should have a right of rejecting any preachers they disapproved of. But this, we say, would destroy itinerancy. So they chose John Atlay for a preacher, who adopted William Eels for his curate. Nothing remained but to build another preaching house, towards which we subscribed £206 on the spot.”
Besides these, some other points were decided; namely, that the preachers should read the rules of the society in every society once a quarter; that no person should be admitted to lovefeasts without a society ticket, or a note from the assistant; that every watchnight should be continued till midnight; that the collections at lovefeasts should be most conscientiously given to the poor; that preachers should not go out to supper, and should be home before nine at night; that preachers’ children should dress exactly according to the band rules; that only one preacher should come in future to the conference from Scotland, except those that were to be admitted into full connexion; and that no books should be published without Wesley’s sanction, and that those approved by him should be printed at his press in London, and be sold by his book steward.
We give these legislative enactments as we find them. The last bore hardly on strong minded writers, like Thomas Taylor and Joseph Benson.
The day after the conference concluded, Wesley set out for London, and thence, for the last time, to Cornwall. His first day’s journey was seventy miles, and his second eighty, and to this amount of labour was added preaching. One day in London was devoted to business; on the next, which was Sunday, the patriarchal preacher delivered two sermons in the chapel in City Road, set out at seven o’clock, p.m., travelled all night, and reached Bristol about noon on Monday. Without delay, he hurried on to Plymouth, preaching at Taunton, Collumpton, and Exeter. At Plymouth there had been, what he calls, a “senseless quarrel”; but he administered the sacrament to six hundred people, and preached to an enormous congregation out of doors.
Arriving at St. Austell, he says: “I knew not where to preach, the street being so dirty, and the preaching house so small. At length, we determined to squeeze as many as we could into the preaching house; and truly God was there.” At Truro, the street, leading to the chapel, being blocked up with starving tinners demanding an increase to their wages, and a troop of soldiers who were keeping peace, Wesley was obliged to preach “under the coinage hall.” Forty years had elapsed since he was last at Falmouth, and then he was “taken prisoner by an immense mob, gaping and roaring like lions; now high and low lined the street, from one end of the town to the other, out of stark love and kindness”; and he preached to the largest congregation he had ever seen in Cornwall, except in or near Redruth. The same sort of scenes awaited him at Helstone, St. Just, Newlyn, and Penzance. In Gwennap pit his congregation was calculated at five-and-twenty thousand. This remarkable spot was first used by Wesley, as a place for preaching, in 1762, on account of the wind being so boisterous as to prevent him occupying his usual stand in the town itself. “At a small distance,” says he, “was a hollow capable of containing many thousand people. I stood on one side of this amphitheatre, toward the top, with the people beneath, and on all sides.” Many since then had been the marvellous scenes he had witnessed in this “the finest natural amphitheatre in the kingdom.” There can be little doubt, that the estimated numbers were sometimes greater than the real; but still, it was here, on this Cornish common, that Wesley had the largest congregations to whom he ever preached. The place is now one of the “sights” of Cornwall. Here an annual service has been held ever since Wesley’s death; and now, on every Whitmonday, thousands wend their way, in every style of conveyance, from the donkey cart of the poor peasant to the dashing carriage of the wealthy squire, and assembling within the area and around the banks of this consecrated hollow, join in one vast act of worship, offered to the God of heaven. Here we have Methodism’s yearly pilgrimage, made by hosts of Cornish Methodists, not to honour man, but to commemorate the mercies of their fathers’ God, and to ask His help and blessing on behalf of themselves and their posterity.
Eleven days were spent in Cornwall, during which Wesley preached, at least, seventeen times, nine of which were in the open air. “There is,” says he, “a fair prospect in Cornwall, from Launceston to the Land’s End.”
On his way back, we find him preaching at Tavistock, Plymouth, Exeter, Tiverton, Halberton, Taunton, Castle Carey, Ditcheat, and Shepton Mallet, eleven sermons, in seven days, besides the travelling from Cornwall to Bristol. No wonder that the venerable traveller sometimes started at three o’clock in the morning!
Bristol was the centre of Wesley’s labours from September 5 to October 5. On one of the Sundays, he preached twice in his own chapel, and once in Temple church; but writes: “It was full as much as I could do. I doubt I must not hereafter attempt to preach more than twice a day.”
On October 5, he started from Bristol at four o’clock in the morning, for London. Arriving in town, he wrote:
“I am now as well, by the good providence of God, as I am likely to be while I live. My sight is so decayed, that I cannot well read by candlelight; but I can write as well as ever; and my strength is much lessened, so that I cannot easily preach above twice a day. But, I bless God, my memory is not much decayed; and my understanding is as clear as it has been these fifty years.”
Having spent five days in London, he set out for Norfolk. The remainder of the year was employed, as usual, partly in London, and partly in his long accustomed preaching tours to the surrounding counties. On the last Sunday in the year, he occupied the pulpit of St. Luke’s, his parish church. “The tables are turned,” says he; “I have now more invitations to preach in churches than I can accept of.”
One of his London retreats was, what he calls, “the lovely family at Balham.” This was, doubtless, the family of George Wolff, Esq., one of his executors,—a merchant, and also consul general to the court of Denmark,—a gentleman of unassuming manners, deeply pious, and one of the most liberal of the metropolitan Methodists,—for many years the confidential friend of Wesley, and who died at Balham, in 1828, at the age of ninety-two.
Before concluding the year, we insert a further selection from Wesley’s letters.
The first was to his nephew, Samuel Wesley, the musical genius, now twenty-three years of age, and is strikingly characteristic of the venerable writer.
“Near Bristol, September 16, 1789.
“My dear Sammy,—It gives me pleasure to hear, that you have so much resolution, that you go to bed at ten, and rise at four o’clock. Let not the increase of cold affright you from your purposes. Bear your cross, and it will bear you. I advise you carefully to read over Kempis, the Life of Gregory Lopez, and that of Mons. de Renty. They are all among my brother’s books.
“I am, dear Sammy, your affectionate uncle and friend,
“John Wesley.”
The next beautifully illustrates the benevolence of Wesley, and the faithfulness of his friendship. Mr. Salmon, at the time referred to, was not a member of the Methodist society, but only an occasional hearer; and, yet, the instance of his liberality, which Wesley mentions, was not the only one which does honour to his character. In 1762, Wesley opened a new chapel at Shepton Mallet, with a mudden floor; and, in this state, it was occupied for years, when Mr. Salmon gave the stewards £40 to improve the floor, and to supply back rails to the benches. Richard Rodda, to whom the following was addressed, now filled the office of assistant at Manchester.
“Wallingford, October 24, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—You are a man whom I can trust: whatever you do, you will do it with your might. Some years since, we wanted a preaching place near Coleford, in Somersetshire. A neighbouring gentleman, Mr. Salmon, gave us ground to build on, and timber for the house, and desired me to use his house as my own. He is now by wicked men reduced to want.
“I am informed, a master for a poorhouse is wanted at Manchester. Pray inquire, and, if it be so, leave no means untried to procure the place for him. Apply, in my name, to B. Barlow, D. Yates, T. Phillips, Dr. Easton, Mr. Brocklehurst, Stonehouse, and all that have a regard for me. Make all the interest you can. Leave no stone unturned. ‘Join hands with God to make a good man live.’ I hope you will send me word in London, that you have exerted yourself, and are not without a prospect of success.
“I am, dear Richard, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
The following letter is now, for the first time, published. The Liverpool Methodists were about to build their Mount Pleasant chapel. An expenditure of £1100 startled Wesley. What would he have said to the expenditure of as many thousands? And yet Liverpool Methodism does the one now with as much nonchalance as it did the other then. The letter was addressed to Mr. Lawrence Frost.
“London, October 23, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—You are bold people! Two hundred pounds, purchase money, besides nine hundred pounds! But I do not use to damp any good design. Go on in the name of God. It is true, your deed is clumsy enough. I am surprised, that no Methodist will take my advice. I have more experience, in these things, than any attorney in the land. And have I not the Methodist interest as much at heart? Oh, why will you alter the beautiful deed we have already? why will you employ any attorney at all? Only to seek a knot in a bulrush; only to puzzle the cause. Well, comfort yourself. You will not long be troubled with
“Your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”
The next, which was written to William Black, in Nova Scotia, is interesting as containing a reference to Wesley’s labours, and his professed adherence to the Church.
“London, November 21, 1789.
“My dear Brother,—Your letter has given me great satisfaction. My fears are vanished away. I am persuaded, brother Wray, Stretton, and you, will go on hand in hand, and that each of you will take an equal share in the common labour. I do so myself. I labour now just as I did twenty or forty years ago. By all means, proceed by common consent, and think not of separating from the Church of England. I am more and more confirmed in the judgment which our whole conference passed on that head, in the year 1758.
“I am your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
Thirty-two years before, Wesley preached his first and last sermon in Bideford. For long it had been a barren soil, but, in 1788, was made a circuit town; and now simple minded, sanctified Samuel Bardsley was labouring with great success. “I am glad,” says Wesley to this godly man, “to hear so good an account of the work of God at Bideford. It had held out long, and seemed to bid defiance to the gospel.” Bardsley was all alone; and Michael Fenwick, fond of meddling, wrote to him: “Dear Sammy,—Write a pressing letter every post, until Mr. Wesley sends you another preacher. It is cruel to let you be all alone in that great wide circuit; and I will tell Mr. Wesley so. I am glad, that Col. Buck is the reigning mayor with you. Pray, when you see him, give my Christian respects to him, and tell him, I am glad he is raised to be the first magistrate in Bideford.” Fenwick was without an appointment, and was resident at Hexham. Wesley took him at his word, and sent him to Bideford. Poor Michael seems to have been a stormy petrel. No sooner was he come, than there was serious trouble. Hence the following.
“December 25, 1789.
“Most esteemed Friend,—Yesterday, I waited upon the lord lieutenant for this county, Lord Fortescue, and we spent an hour together in a close, pointed conversation, respecting the hot persecution at Bideford. His lordship told me, he will go over and inquire into matters, for he thinks our lives are in danger, seeing that the mayor of Bideford and the other justices have thrown open the flood gates to the mob, to do with us as they please. I recommended to his lordship the 23rd of Matthew, (only changing the word Jerusalem into that of Bideford,) in which our blessed Lord describes the men. His lordship is greatly alarmed at our present situation; but, the next week, he will be with his majesty, and will let him know of our treatment; and they must take the consequences. My dear brother, never fear: only believe; and we shall see great things in due time. I shall conquer, or die in the field.
“I am your affectionate friend,
“Michael Fenwick.”
The above not only furnishes a glimpse of Methodist affairs at Bideford, but casts light on the following letters, which Wesley sent to Bardsley.
“Northampton, November 25, 1789.
“Dear Sammy,—Yours of the 21st instant was sent to me hither. You have done exceeding well to take the upper room. If need be, we will help you out. Let us have no law, if it be possible to avoid it: that is the last and worst remedy. Try every other remedy first. It is a good providence, that the mayor of Bideford is a friendly man. Prayer will avail much in all cases. Encourage our poor people to be instant in prayer. Take care of poor Michael; and do not forget,
“Dear Sammy, your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”
“Newcastle under Lyne, March 29, 1790.
“Dear Sammy,—Take particular care, that neither Michael Fenwick, nor any other, give any just offence; and especially, that they offend not God; then He will make your enemies to be at peace with you.
“If I remember well, I did write to the mayor of Bideford; and I expect, that makes him more quiet. By meekness, gentleness, and patience, with faith and prayer, you will prevail at Torrington also. You have only to go on calmly and steadily, and God will arise and maintain His own cause. Only let us labour to have a conscience void of offence toward God, and toward man.
“I am, dear Sammy, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
All must admire this advice. During this year of storm and tempest, the Bideford Methodists increased from eighty-three to one hundred and forty.
We insert one more letter. In the Isle of Man there were 2569 Methodists, within five hundred of the number there are at present. Then there was one circuit; now there are four: then there were three itinerant preachers; now there are ten. George Holder was assistant; and to him Wesley addressed the following.
“Near London, November 29, 1789.
“Dear George,—You did well to remember the case of Dewsbury house, and to send what you could to Mr. Mather.
“I exceedingly disapprove of publishing anything in the Manx language. On the contrary, we should do everything in our power to abolish it from the earth, and persuade every member of our society to learn and talk English. This would be much hindered by providing them with hymns in their own language. Therefore, gently and quietly let the proposal drop.
“I hope you and your fellow labourers are of one heart. Peace be with your spirits!
“I am, dear George, your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”
Wesley would take no step to gratify the linguistic folly of the Manx Methodists; but he was still actively employed in supplying books to his English readers. His publications, in 1789, were:
1. “The Life of Mr. Silas Told.” 18mo, 113 pages.
2. “A Short Account of the Life and Death of Jane Newland, of Dublin.” 12mo, 12 pages.
3. “An Extract of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Journal, from September 4, 1782, to June 28, 1786.” 12mo, 134 pages.
4. “Minutes of Several Conversations between the Rev. Mr. Wesley and others. From the year 1744, to the year 1789.” 12mo, 51 pages.
5. His chief publication, of course, was his Arminian Magazine, 8vo, 679 pages.
As usual, it contains six of his own sermons. Those on Man, Faith, and the Omnipresence of God, are among the ablest he ever wrote. That on the Rich Man and Lazarus is a powerful exposition of the text, which Wesley believed to be, not merely a parable, but a history. The sermon on Riches is boldly faithful, and must have made the rich Methodists of that period wince and tremble; as, indeed, it ought to make such Methodists wince and tremble at the present day. The following, addressed to rich men, are the concluding paragraphs.
“O how pitiable is your condition! And who is able to help you? You need more plain dealing than any men in the world; and you meet with less. For how few dare to speak as plain to you, as they would to one of your servants? No man living that either hopes to gain anything by your favour, or fears to lose anything by your displeasure. Oh that God would give me acceptable words, and cause them to sink deep into your hearts! Many of you have known me long, well-nigh from your infancy! You have frequently helped me, when I stood in need. May I not say, you loved me? But now the time of our parting is at hand; my feet are just stumbling upon the dark mountains. I would leave one word with you, before I go hence; and you may remember it when I am no more seen.
“O let your heart be whole with God! Seek your happiness in Him, and Him alone. Beware, that you cleave not to the dust! This earth is not your place. See that you use this world as not abusing it; use the world, and enjoy God. Sit as loose to all things here below, as if you were a poor beggar. Be a good steward of the manifold gifts of God; that, when you are called to give an account of your stewardship, He may say, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.’”
Nothing can be plainer than that, for several of the last years of his life, Wesley regarded the growing riches of the Methodists as one of their greatest dangers. His magazines, to say nothing of his letters and his journals, are full of this. Hence, his eighteen lengthy extracts on the Surest Way of Thriving, running through the whole of the magazine of 1788, and part of that for 1789. Hence, the solemn warning, contained in his brief article on “The Origin of Image Worship among Christians”; an article meriting the serious thought of those wealthy Methodists, who are adorning (?) their chapels with painted windows and emblematic pulpits. Citations might be multiplied, all tending to show that, rightly or wrongly, Wesley regarded the growth of riches among Christians, not as a good to be desired, but as a necessary evil, and a serious danger.
The only sermon, which remains unnoticed, is that on God’s Vineyard,—a sermon on the doctrine, spiritual helps, discipline, and outward protection of Methodism. He tells us that, notwithstanding the assistance they received from Peter Bohler, he and the other Oxford Methodists “were never clearly convinced, that we are justified by faith alone, till they carefully consulted the homilies of the Church of England, and compared them with the sacred writings, particularly St. Paul’s epistle to the Romans.” He propounds the principle, which Dr. James Hamilton enlarged upon in his conference sermon, already mentioned, that for the Methodists to have become a separate sect, like the Moravians, “would have been a direct contradiction to the whole design of God in raising them up, to spread scriptural religion throughout the land, among people of every denomination, leaving every one to hold his own opinions, and to follow his own mode of worship.” Having shown the great advantages that the Methodists had enjoyed, his early hopes concerning them, and how these hopes had hardly been realised, he concludes with the following address to the rich members of the society.
“O ye that have riches in possession, once more hear the word of the Lord! Ye that are rich in this world, that have food to eat, and raiment to put on, and something over! Are you clear of the curse? of loving the world? Are you sensible of your danger? Do you feel, ‘How hardly will they that have riches enter into the kingdom of heaven’? Do you continue unburnt in the midst of fire? Are you untouched with the love of the world? Are you clear from the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eye, and the pride of life? Do you put a knife to your throat when you sit down to meat, lest your table should be a snare to you? Is not your belly your god? Is not eating and drinking, or any other pleasure of sense, the greatest pleasure you enjoy? Do not you seek happiness in dress, furniture, pictures, gardens; or anything else that pleases the eye? Do not you grow soft and delicate? unable to bear cold, heat, the wind or the rain, as you did when you were poor? Are you not increasing in goods, laying up treasures on earth; instead of restoring to God, in the poor, not so much or so much, but all that you can spare! Surely ‘it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven!’”
There are other contributions by Wesley, in the Magazine for 1789, which ought to have attention. There is an exquisitely drawn up article on “The Nature of Inspiration, clearly explained and enforced, as applicable to the Old and New Testament”; and also his piece “On the Manners of the Times”; neither of which has been included in Wesley’s collected works. And there are also his “Thoughts on Separation from the Church,” and his “Thoughts upon a late Phenomenon;” both of them really on the same subject. After showing how revivals of religion have generally ended in the formation of separate sects, and thereby rarely lasted, according to Luther’s dictum, “longer than a generation, that is, thirty years,” Wesley remarks:
“The Methodists have been solicited again and again, to separate from the Established Church, and to form themselves into a distinct body, independent of all other religious societies. Thirty years ago, this was seriously considered among them, at a general conference. All the arguments, urged on one side and the other, were considered at large; and it was determined, without one dissenting voice, that they ‘ought not to separate from the Church.’
“This is a new thing in the world; this is the peculiar glory of the people called Methodists. In spite of all manner of temptations, they will not separate from the Church. What many so earnestly covet, they abhor; they will not be a distinct body. Now what instance have we of this before, either in ancient or modern history, of a body of people, in such circumstances, who will not be a distinct party, but choose to remain in connection with their own church, that they may be more effectually the servants of all? This, I say again, is an utterly new phenomenon! I never saw, heard, or read of anything like it. The Methodists will not separate from the Church, although continually reproached for doing it; although it would free them from abundance of inconveniences, and make their path much smoother and easier; and although many of their friends earnestly advise, and their enemies provoke them to it,—the clergy in particular; most of whom, far from thanking them for continuing in the Church, use all the means in their power, fair and unfair, to drive them out of it.”
FOOTNOTES:
The photographic portrait, in the present volume, is taken from Romney’s painting, by the kind permission of its possessor, the Rev. G. Stringer Rowe.
Life of Garretson.
Methodist Magazine, 1867, p. 623.
Methodist Magazine, 1797, p. 313.
Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 253.
Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 254.
Methodist Magazine, 1831, p. 298.
Methodist Magazine, 1845, p. 117.
Atmore’s “Methodist Memorial.”
Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 379.
Methodist Magazine, 1840, p. 543.
It ought to have been eighty-seventh.
“Anecdotes of the Wesleys,” p. 312.
Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 404.
Methodist Magazine, 1823, p. 134.
A reference to Richard Brothers, the prophecy expounder of that period.
Cowper’s Works, Bohn’s edit., vol. iii., p. 370.
Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 409.
Crowther’s manuscript autobiography.
Thomas Rutherford was sent in this emergency.
Wesleyan Times, June 11, 1866.
Methodist Magazine, 1797, p. 313.
Methodist Magazine, 1845, p. 115.
Methodist Magazine, 1845, p. 115.
Methodist Magazine, 1828, p. 286.
Wesley Banner, 1851, p. 405.
Methodist Magazine, 1827, p. 285.
Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 478.
Black’s Memoirs, p. 251.
Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 472.
Manuscript letter.
Methodist Magazine, 1825, p. 675.
Wesley’s Works, vol. xii., p. 473.
Ibid. vol. xiii., p. 108.