FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:

1790.

Age 87

Wesley’s career is drawing to a close. He himself was on the “Delectable mountains,” basking in the sheen of the celestial city; but all around him, or rather beneath him, was darkness and confusion. The riots of 1789 were about to culminate in the indescribable horrors of the French revolution. Burke wrote against this terrible upheaving; Dr. Price applauded it. English newspapers, all at once, became Gallican and republican; and overflowed with abuse of the old constitution,—abuse of the Church,—abuse of the aristocracy,—abuse of almost everything except the French insurrection, and the men who made it. Thomas Paine and his friends were in the highest feather; and infidel and revolutionary pamphlets were published with prodigal profusion. Even Fox, in parliament, declared that the French army, by refusing to obey the court and to act against the people, had set a glorious example to all the armies of Europe; to which Burke, who had hitherto been Fox’s friend, replied, that the revolutionists were “an irrational, unprincipled, proscribing, confiscating, plundering, ferocious, bloody, tyrannical democracy.” It was amid such excitement, that Wesley spent his last days on earth.

He began the year in London, and wrote in his journal:

“1790, January 1.—I am now an old man, decayed from head to foot: my eyes are dim; my right hand shakes much; my mouth is hot and dry every morning; I have a lingering fever almost every day; my motion is weak and slow. However, blessed be God, I do not slack my labour; I can preach and write still.”

Henry Moore observes:

“Being in the house with him when he wrote thus, I was greatly surprised. I knew it must be as he said; but I could not imagine his weakness was so great. He still rose at his usual hour, four o’clock, and went through the many duties of the day, not indeed with the same apparent vigour, but without complaint, and with a degree of resolution that was astonishing.”⁠

On Saturday, January 2, he preached at Snowsfields. The next day, Sunday, he held the covenant service in the City Road chapel, at which nearly two thousand persons were present. A few days were then devoted to writing letters, two of which we give. The first has not before been published. It was addressed to Daniel Jackson, then appointed to the Stockport circuit.

“London, January 2, 1790.

“My dear Brother,—It is no wonder many of the societies should be in a poor condition, considering what poor care has lately been taken of them. They will soon find the difference.

“The books that are damaged you may give away as you judge proper.

“None ought to have made a collection for any place before the house at Dewsbury was built. However, do what you can, and you do enough.

“I am, with love to sister Jackson,

“Your affectionate friend and brother,

“J. Wesley.”

The next was written to John Mason, the assistant in the St. Austell circuit.

“Near London, January 13, 1790.

“My dear Brother,—As long as I live, the people shall have no share in choosing either stewards or leaders among the Methodists. We have not, and never had, any such custom. We are no republicans, and never intend to be. It would be better for those, that are so minded, to go quietly away. I have been uniform, both in doctrine and discipline, for above these fifty years; and it is a little too late for me to turn into a new path, now I am old and grey headed. Neither good old brother Porna (God bless him!) expects it from me, nor brother Wood, nor brother Flamank.

“If you and I shall be called hence this year, we may bless God that we have not lived in vain. Come, let us have a few more strokes at Satan’s kingdom, and then we shall depart in peace!

“I am, your affectionate friend and brother,

“John Wesley.”

On Sunday, January 17, Wesley buried Mrs. Dornford, a good woman; and preached her funeral sermon. In the afternoon, he preached to a large congregation, in the church of Great St. Helen’s.

On Monday, January 25, he went to Dorking, “and laboured to awaken a harmless, honest, drowsy people, who, for many years, seemed to stand stock still, neither increasing nor decreasing.”

On January 29, Wesley writes: “We held our general quarterly meeting, whereby it appeared, that the society received and expended about £3000 a year; but our expense still exceeds our income.”

The next eight days were employed in meeting the London classes, containing about 2500 members.

During the month of February, we find him preaching a funeral sermon for Robert Windsor; and sermons to children—​beautiful sights—​at West Street, and at City Road. He retired to his friend Mr. Wolff’s, at Balham, “to finish his sermons, and to put all his little things in order.” He “submitted to importunity, and once more sat for his picture.” He “dined at Mr. Baker’s, one of the sheriffs of London; a plain man, who still lived in an inn yard!”

On Sunday, February 28, which, for five months, was his last day in London, he preached to enormous congregations, at City Road, West Street, and Brentford; and then started off on his long journey to the north. Before we follow him, two short letters may be welcome; the first to Adam Clarke at Bristol, the second to Miss Bisson in the Channel islands.

“London, February 11, 1790.

“Dear Adam,—On Monday, March 1, I hope to set out hence; and to preach that evening, and on Tuesday, at half-past six o’clock, at Bath. On Thursday, if he desires it, I will dine at Mr. Durbin’s; and, on Monday following, begin as usual to meet the classes. I am not at all sorry that James Gore is removed from this evil world. You and I shall follow him in due time; as soon as our work is done. Many of our friends have been lately gathered into the garner, as ripe shocks of wheat. Peace be with both your spirits! I am, dear Adam, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

“London, February 13, 1790.

“My dear Sister,—I love to see your name at the bottom of a letter, especially when it brings me the good news, that your spirit is still rejoicing in God your Saviour. My sight is so far decayed, that I cannot well read a small print by candlelight; but I can write almost as well as ever I could; and it does me no harm, but rather good, to preach once or twice a day. A few days since, I had a letter from one of our sisters in Scotland, whose experience agrees much with yours; only she goes farther; she speaks of being ‘taken up into heaven, surrounded with the blessed Trinity, and let into God the Father.’ I commend you to His care; and am, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

Wesley spent a fortnight at Bath, Bristol, and Kingswood; preached daily; visited the sick; and met the Bristol classes. On one of the Sundays, at least, he preached thrice; having on the night previous occupied the pulpit of his friend, the Rev. Joseph Easterbrook, in Temple church. He writes: “Mr. Easterbrook has lately been very ill; but God has again lifted up his head to be a father to the poor a little longer.”⁠

This indefatigable clergyman was the son of the Bristol bellman; was educated at Kingswood school; became assistant master at Trevecca college; obtained ordination; was presented to Temple church by the Bristol corporation; and succeeded James Roquet as chaplain of Newgate prison.⁠ Fletcher, in writing to the Countess of Huntingdon concerning him, says, when he first entered Trevecca, he began to live upon water and potatoes; and yet, besides attending to his scholastic duties, he preached every evening in the week, and occasionally as many as four times on Sundays. Atmore states that, in Bristol, it was Easterbrook’s invariable rule to send those, who were awakened under his ministry, to meet in class among the Methodists. His work was now nearly ended. When Wesley came again to Bristol, in September, he wrote: “Mr. Easterbrook is ill of a disorder which no physician understands, and which it seems God alone can cure. He is a pattern to all Bristol, and indeed to all in England; having, besides his other incessant labours, which were never intermitted, preached in every house in his parish!” Within four months after this, Easterbrook was dead, and Henry Moore preached for him a funeral sermon, which was printed. He died on the 21st of January, 1791, in the fortieth year of his age, some of his last words being “God does all things well. I have no fear of death or of judgment.”⁠

While at Bristol, Wesley addressed the following characteristic letter, not before published, to Jasper Winscomb, one of his preachers in the Isle of Wight. What would Wesley have said concerning the circuit divisions of the present day?

“Bristol, March 13, 1790.

“Dear Jasper,—The story of Thomas Whitwood is very remarkable, and the story is well told, and God has done much honour to him by the happy effects which have been consequent on his death. I am in no haste at all concerning building, without having paid some more of our debts. I am likewise in no haste to multiply preachers, or to divide circuits. Most of our circuits are too small rather than too large. I wish we had no circuit with fewer than three preachers on it, or less than four hundred miles’ riding in four weeks. Certainly, no circuit shall be divided before conference. If we do not take care we shall all degenerate into milksops. ‘Soldiers of Christ, arise!’

“I am, dear Jasper, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

On leaving London, the following circular, bearing Wesley’s signature, was issued, indicating to his friends the places he meant to visit, in his journey to the north. It furnishes a bird’s eye view of the Herculean labours of an old man nearly eighty-seven years of age, and also helps to fill up a gap in Wesley’s journal. It must be remembered, that the means of transit in 1790 were not what they are at present; and that, at every place mentioned, Wesley preached at least once, and often several times more than that. It will also be seen, that from three to four days were employed in some of the principal societies, where he arranged to spend his Sundays.

“London, March 1, 1790.

“As many persons desire to know where I am from this time till the conference, I here set down my route, which, if God permit, I shall keep till that time.

March.

Monday, 15, Stroud; 16, Gloucester; 17, Worcester; 18, Stourport; 19, Birmingham.

Monday, 22, Wednesbury; 23, Dudley and Wolverhampton; 24, Madeley; 25, Salop; 26, Madeley; 27, Newcastle under Lyne; 28, Lane End and Burslem.

Monday, 29, Congleton; 30, Macclesfield.

April.

Thursday, 1, Stockport; 2, Manchester.

Monday, 5, Nantwich and Liverpool; 7, Warrington and Chester; 9, Wigan; 10, Bolton.

Monday, 12, Blackburn; 13, Colne; 17, Keighley; 18, Haworth and Halifax.

Tuesday, 20, Huddersfield; 21, Dewsbury; 24, Wakefield; 25, Birstal and Leeds.

Tuesday, 27, Bradford; 29, Otley.

May.

Saturday, 1, Parkgate; 2, York; 4, Pocklington; 6, Newcastle.

Monday, 10, Alnwick; 12, Dunbar; 13, Edinburgh.

Tuesday, 18, Dundee; 19, Arbroath; 20, Aberdeen.

“N.B. I have not yet finally settled the rest of my plan. I probably shall, if I come to York. Many persons are continually teasing me to visit more places. Now let them judge whether I have not work enough.

“John Wesley.”

To this circular, two postscripts were added, by some other hand, namely:

“Those persons, who have occasion to write to Mr. Wesley, are requested to direct their letters according to this plan, and not to London.”

“Our friends here earnestly desire that Mr. Wesley may be remembered in prayer, especially at the next quarterly fast, that his strength may be continued, and, if it please God, increased also.”

Such was Wesley’s plan of travel and of labour for the next ten weeks; but even this was a mere outline; and it will be found, as we follow him, that he preached at many places besides the above mentioned.

At Stroud, on March 15, hundreds were unable to get into the chapel. On the day following, he preached to two other crowds, at Painswick, and at Gloucester, March 17, the chapel at Tewkesbury was not large enough to hold the noonday congregation; and at Worcester, in the evening, he “found much comfort among a well established people.”

Twenty years before this, Stourport did not exist; now there were a couple of streets, at least, and also a prosperous trade. In 1780, John Cowell came with his family from Wolverhampton; and, soon after, Thomas Hanby preached the first Methodist sermon, in an upper room, at Mr. Morris’s.⁠ A chapel was soon erected, towards which Mr. Cowell was a large contributor. The chapel was to be occupied by both Calvinist and Arminian preachers. The Arminians were speedily ejected; and, rather than appeal to law, Mr. Cowell, at his own expense, built another and a larger chapel, which Wesley opened in 1788. He now visited them again; had a crowded congregation; was pleased with their attention; but writes: “The moment I ceased speaking, fourscore or one hundred begun talking all at once. I do not remember to have been present at such a scene before. This must be amended; otherwise, if I should live, I will see Stourport no more.”

March 19, at eleven a.m., Wesley preached at Quinton; and, at night, to a densely packed congregation at Birmingham. Next day, Saturday, the same scene was repeated; and, on Sunday, when he opened a new meeting-house, and preached twice, hundreds of people were unable to get in. Joseph Benson, at this time stationed in Birmingham, met Wesley at Stourport, and writes: “I found him much stronger and better than I expected. Still his sight is so defective, that he is much at a loss in giving out hymns, in reading his text, and in referring to any portion of Scripture. In conversation, he seemed much as usual, lively and entertaining.”⁠

On Monday, March 22, at Wednesbury, as many as could squeezed into the chapel, and the rest were fain to be listeners outside. The next day, he opened a new meeting-house, “one of the neatest in England,” at Dudley; and, at night, preached at Wolverhampton. Three days were spent at Madeley and Salop; one sermon was written; and four were preached. Week day though it was, Madeley church was crowded; and so also was the meeting place at Salop; but concerning the Salopians, Wesley writes: “I was much ashamed for them. The moment I had done speaking, I suppose fifty of them were talking all at once; and no wonder they had neither sense nor good manners, for they were gentlefolks!”

The halt at Madeley gave him the opportunity, not only to write his sermon on the wedding garment, but to write letters to his friends. To Adam Clarke he expresses the opinion, that “animal magnetism is diabolical from the beginning to the end;” he also advises him to consult Dr. Whitehead about his health, and requests him to follow all the doctor’s directions, “except the leaving off preaching”; naively adding, “I think, if I had taken this advice many years since, I should not have been a living man.”⁠

Charles Atmore had recently commenced a Sunday-school, in the Orphan House, at Newcastle, consisting of seventy teachers and more than a thousand children.⁠ And Michael Longridge, one of Wesley’s best local preachers, in the north of England, had published a 12mo pamphlet of 13 pages, entitled, “Sunday-schools Recommended as a Religious Institution: with a Plan for their Extension at a small Expense.” All this had Wesley’s cordial approval; and, hence, the following letter to Atmore, which, besides a reference to the Sunday-schools, also contains an addition to Wesley’s preaching plan.

“Madeley, March 24, 1790.

“Dear Charles,—I am glad you have set up Sunday-schools in Newcastle. It is one of the noblest institutions which has been seen in Europe for some centuries, and will increase more and more, provided the teachers and inspectors do their duties. Nothing can prevent the increase of this blessed work, but the neglect of the instruments. Therefore, be sure to watch over these with all care, that they may not grow weary in well doing.

“I shall be at Darlington, if God permit, on Tuesday and Wednesday, May 4th and 5th; on Thursday, at Durham to preach at twelve o’clock at noon; and at Newcastle between four and five in the afternoon. Grace be with you and yours!

“I am, dear Charles, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

To return. According to announcement, Wesley, on Saturday, March 27, preached at Newcastle under Lyne; and, on the day following, twice, to large crowds, in the open air, at Lane End, and at Burslem. At nine o’clock on Monday morning, he opened Tunstall new chapel, “the most elegant he had seen since he left Bath”; and, at night, preached at Congleton, the clergyman of the parish, “the mayor, and all the heads of the town,” forming a part of his congregation. He quietly remarks: “That I might not overshoot them, I preached on, ‘So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.’”

Two days were spent at Macclesfield, and two crowded audiences were addressed. Here, also, one of his horses died. On April 1, he had a large congregation at Stockport. The next day, Good Friday, he preached at Oldham and Manchester; and, at the latter place, again on Saturday.

On Easter Sunday, at Manchester, he preached twice, and held a sacramental service at which there were about sixteen hundred communicants!

Next day, he preached thrice, at Altrincham, Northwich, and Chester; and, in each place, had crowded congregations. At Warrington, “the chapel was well filled with serious hearers”; and, at Liverpool, multitudes were not able to get in. At Wigan, the chapel “was more than filled”; and “in the lovely house at Bolton” he preached to, what he calls, “one of the loveliest congregations in England.” This was on April 10; and, from this date to May 24, there is a chasm in Wesley’s journal, which we shall endeavour to fill up; first of all, however, giving an unpublished letter, addressed to Thomas Taylor, who, with William Simpson, was stationed at Hull.

“Manchester, April 4, 1790.

“Dear Tommy,—I did not approve of Dr. Coke’s making collections either in yours or any other circuit. I told him so, and am not well pleased with his doing it. It was very ill done. It is exceeding probable, that sea bathing will be of use to brother Simpson, especially if he be temperate in all things.

“I do not know what you mean concerning talking ‘about the Church.’ I advise all our brethren, that have been brought up in the Church, to continue there; and there I leave the matter. The Methodists are to spread life among all denominations; which they will do, till they form a separate sect.

“I am, dear Tommy, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

According to Wesley’s plan, the week, intervening between April 10 and 17, was to be spent in visiting Blackburn, Colne, Keighley, Haworth, and Halifax. But, besides these places, he also preached at Preston, from Revelation xxii. 17; and was the guest of Mrs. Emmett of Walton,⁠ where he wrote the following letter to the celebrated Ann Cutler, commonly called “praying Nanny.”

“Walton, April 15, 1790.

“My dear Sister,—There is something in the dealings of God with your soul, which is out of the common way. But I have known several whom He has been pleased to lead in exactly the same way, and particularly in manifesting to them distinctly the three Persons of the ever blessed Trinity. You may tell all your experience to me any time; but will need to be cautious in speaking to others, for they would not understand what you say. Go on in the name of God, and in the power of His might. Pray for the whole spirit of humility; and I wish that you would write and speak without reserve to, dear Nanny,

“Yours affectionately,

“John Wesley.”

Wesley spent April 21 at Halifax;⁠ and, in connection with his visit here, preached at Bradshaw, where, on his tottering up the pulpit stairs, the whole congregation burst into a flood of tears. More than once, his memory failed him, and Joseph Bradford and William Thompson had to act the part of remembrancers. The visit was memorable in more respects than one. While the congregation was waiting for the venerable preacher, and a crowd was assembled at the door, a woman of the name of Wilson mockingly exclaimed, “They are waiting for their God”; no sooner was the sentence uttered than she fell senseless to the ground, and, the day following, she expired.⁠

The next few days, according to Wesley’s plan, were employed at Huddersfield, Dewsbury, Wakefield, Birstal, Leeds, Bradford, and Otley. On the 3rd of May, he came to York. Thomas Taylor, in his unpublished diary, remarks: “May 3—I went to York, and was amazed to meet such a number of travelling preachers, fifteen or sixteen of them. Mr. Wesley preached a useful sermon; and, after preaching, we had a meeting respecting one of our number who was accused of drunkenness.”

On the 5th of May, Wesley was met at Darlington by his son in law, Mr. William Smith, and by Charles Atmore, from Newcastle. Atmore writes: “We heard him preach in the evening, from ‘He is before all things, and by Him all things consist.’ He appears very feeble; and no wonder, he being nearly eighty-seven years of age. His sight has failed so much, that he cannot see to give out the hymn; yet his voice is strong, and his spirits remarkably lively. Surely this great and good man is the prodigy of the present age.”

Old as he was, Wesley set out next morning, at half-past three o’clock, for Newcastle, where he preached, in the evening, from Isaiah lvii. 1, 2. The following night (Friday) he preached again his remarkable sermon to the children of the Sunday-school, taking as his text Psalm xxxiv. 11; the sermon being literally composed and delivered in words of not more than two syllables.⁠ On Saturday, May 8, we find him at North Shields, preaching, says Atmore, “an excellent sermon, from ‘What things were gain to me, these I counted loss for Christ.’” Next day, Sunday, May 9, he addressed a crowd of several thousands, on Byker Hill, from Matthew vii. 24; and, in the evening, at the Orphan House, took his old favourite text, “By grace are ye saved, through faith.” “The house,” writes Atmore, “was much crowded, and many hundreds returned, not being able to obtain an entrance.” Atmore continues:

“He was highly honoured in his ministry; particularly to one who had been in a state of great despair for many years. As soon as he arrived at the Orphan House, Mr. Wesley inquired after this individual, and I accompanied him in visiting him. As soon as he entered the room, where the poor man was, he went up to him, and said, ‘Brother Reed, I have a word from God unto thee; Jesus Christ maketh thee whole.’ He then knelt down to pray; and such a season I have seldom experienced. Hope instantly sprang up, and despair gave place; and, although Reed had not been out of his habitation, nor even from his wretched bed, for several years, he went that evening to hear Mr. Wesley preach; and God graciously confirmed the testimony of His servant in restoring him to ‘the light of His countenance.’”⁠

On Monday, May 10, Wesley proceeded on his journey to Scotland. Of his labours during the next fortnight, we have no record; but, on May 25, we find him preaching to a crowded audience at Aberdeen; then at Brechin, Glasgow, and Dumfries. The last mentioned town was now a part of the Glasgow circuit, and had, as its resident preacher, Mr. Yewdall, who writes: “In the latter end of May, Mr. Wesley visited us. He came from Glasgow that day, (about seventy miles,) but his strength was almost exhausted, and, when he attempted to preach, very few could hear him. His sight was likewise much decayed, so that he could neither read the hymn or text. The wheels of life were ready to stand still; but his conversation was agreeably edifying, being mixed with the wisdom and gravity of a parent, and the artless simplicity of a child.”⁠

From Dumfries, Wesley proceeded, on June 2, to Carlisle, where the chapel would not near contain his congregation. Thence he went to Hexham, where he “found a loving people, much alive to God, and consequently increasing daily.”

On Friday, June 4, he once again, and, for the last time, reached Newcastle. He writes:

“In this and Kingswood house, were I to do my own will, I should choose to spend the short remainder of my days. But it cannot be; this is not my rest. This and the next evening, we had a numerous congregation; and the people seemed much alive. Sunday, June 6, I was invited to preach in Lemsley church, on the side of Gateshead Fell; but, some hours after, the minister changed his mind. So I preached in our own preaching house, which contained the greater part of the congregation; among whom were Sir Henry Liddell and his lady, with a great number of his servants. The chapel was hot as a stove; but neither high nor low seemed to regard it: for God was there! The Orphan House was equally crowded in the evening; but the rain would not suffer me to preach abroad. Monday, June 7, I transcribed the stations of the preachers. Tuesday, June 8, I wrote a form for settling the preaching houses, without any superfluous words, which shall be used for the time to come, verbatim, for all the houses to which I contribute anything. I will no more encourage that villainous tautology of lawyers, which is the scandal of our nation. In the evening, I preached to the children of our Sunday-school; six or seven hundred of whom were present. Observe, none of our masters or mistresses teach for pay; they seek a reward that man cannot give.”

Two days after this, Wesley left Newcastle, where he had spent so many happy hours, for ever. Before we follow him, three more of his letters may be acceptable; the first to Henry Moore, the second to the wife of Adam Clarke, the third to Miss Bisson.

“Dumfries, June 1, 1790.

“My dear Henry,—So I am upon the borders of England once again. My sight is much as it was, but I doubt I shall not recover my strength, till I use that noble medicine, preaching in the morning. But where can we put poor Adam Clarke? He must not preach himself to death. What circuit is he equal to? Where can he have rest as well as labour? The best place I can think of, at present, is Leeds.

“The dying words of the Prince of Orange are much upon my mind this morning: ‘Lord have mercy upon the people!’ I never saw so much likelihood of doing good in Scotland as there is now, if all our preachers here would be Methodists indeed! Tell dear Nancy to love me as well as she can.

“I am, my dear Henry, etc.,

“J. Wesley.”

“Dumfries, June 1, 1790.

“My dear Sister,—The great question is, What can be done for Adam Clarke? Now, will you save his life? Look round; consider if there be any circuit where he can have much rest, and little work; or shall he and you spend September in my rooms at Kingswood, on condition that he shall preach but twice a week, and ride to the Hotwells every day? I think he must do this, or die; and I do not want him (neither do you) to run away from us in haste. You need not be told, that this will be attended with some expense; if it be, we can make it easy. I am apt to think this will be the best way. In the meantime, let him do as much as he can, and no more.

“It is probable, I shall stay with you a little longer, as my strength does not much decline. I travelled yesterday nearly eighty miles, and preached in the evening without any pain. The Lord does what pleases Him. Peace be with all your spirits!

“I am, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

“Newcastle, June 6, 1790.

“My dear Sister,—To hear from you is always a pleasure to me; though it is a pleasure mixed with concern when I hear of your weakness or sickness; only I know the Lord loveth whom He chasteneth. But of what kind is your illness? Perhaps I might be enabled to tell you how to remove it; and if you can recover your health, you ought; for health is a great blessing.

“In August last, my strength failed almost at once; and my sight, in a great measure, went from me. But all is well; I can still write almost as easily as ever; and I can read in a clear light; and, I think, if I could not read or write at all, I could still say something for God. When you have more strength, tell me more of the work of God, whether in yourself or those round about you. And ought you not to let me know if you are in any temporal distress? For everything that concerns you, concerns, my dear Jenny, yours most affectionately,

“John Wesley.”

On leaving Newcastle, on the 10th of June, Wesley proceeded, over rough roads and high hills, a distance of at least thirty miles, to Weardale, where he preached both at noon and night. On the 11th, he preached twice in the open air, at Stanhope and at Durham, the crowds being so immense that the chapels were utterly unable to contain them. The 12th and 13th he spent at Sunderland, where he preached thrice: once in the Methodist chapel; a second time in Monkwearmouth church, for the benefit of the Sunday-school; and a third, to many thousands of people, out of doors.

During the ensuing week, we find him preaching at Hartlepool, Stockton, Yarm, Potto, Hutton Rudby, Stokesley, and Whitby. At the last mentioned town, he spent Sunday, June 20, preached twice, attended church, and wrote in his journal: “It was very providential, that part of the adjoining mountain fell down, and demolished our old meeting-house, with many houses besides; by which means we have one of the most beautiful chapels in Great Britain, finely situated on the steep side of the mountain. In all England, I have not seen a more affectionate people than those at Whitby.”

This was high praise of these Yorkshire fishermen; but it was not unmerited. Warm hearts often beat under rough exteriors. Besides, the Methodist society at Whitby was now well-nigh a model. Most of the two hundred and fifty members met in band. Their itinerant preachers preached to them three mornings every week; and, on the other mornings, they were either supplied with local preachers, or held prayer-meetings. At noon, every Friday, they had their intercession meeting; and, after the toils of the week were ended, they met together every Saturday night, to ask God to fit their minds and hearts for the services of Sunday.⁠

On June 21, Wesley preached at Pickering and Malton; and, on the following days, at Scarborough, Bridlington, Beverley, and Hull. At Hull, he spent Sunday, June 27, and also his birthday. He writes:

“Friday, June 25—About noon I preached at Beverley, to a serious, well behaved congregation; and, in the evening, to one equally serious, and far more numerous, at Hull. Saturday, 26, was a day of satisfaction. I preached at seven in the morning, and at six in the evening, to as many as our house would contain; the ground being too wet for the congregation to stand abroad.”

This is a simple entry, and gives no idea of the commotion created by Wesley’s visit. Thomas Taylor, who was now the assistant in the Hull circuit, writes in his diary: “I and many friends from Hull met Mr. Wesley at Beverley. We dined at an inn. He preached, and we hastened to Hull. Many people attending this evening.” Taylor is as laconic as Wesley; but, from another source, we learn, that the “many friends from Hull” were a regular cavalcade of forty persons, some in chaises, and the rest on horses. All these dined with Wesley at his inn at Beverley; spirits were lively, and conversation brisk; but, in the midst of it, and while all present were utterly oblivious of the flight of time, Wesley pulled out his watch, started on his feet, bid his friends good day, stepped into his carriage, and was gone before they had time to remonstrate, or to wish him to wait for the cavalcade to attend him. Horses were saddled, and carriages got ready with as much celerity as possible; but the old man was on his way, and it was with the utmost difficulty that “the horsemen and the chariots” overtook the illustrious visitor in sufficient time to do him honour in the sight of their fellow citizens.⁠

On his birthday, he wrote:

“Monday, June 28.—This day, I enter into my eighty-eighth year. For above eighty-six years, I found none of the infirmities of old age; my eyes did not wax dim, neither was my natural strength abated; but, last August, I found almost a sudden change. My eyes were so dim, that no glasses would help me. My strength likewise now quite forsook me; and probably will not return in this world. But I feel no pain from head to foot; only it seems nature is exhausted; and, humanly speaking, will sink more and more, till ‘the weary springs of life stand still at last.’”

Thus did the venerable man calmly contemplate the inevitable closing of his remarkable career. No weary child of innocence ever went to its welcome couch with greater serenity than Wesley went down the steps leading to his sepulchre.

Here we pause again, to insert another selection of his letters. The first was addressed to William Black, in Nova Scotia.

“Sunderland, June 14, 1790.

“My dear Brother,—You did well to send me an account of your little societies. Here is a good beginning, though it is, as yet, in many places, a day of small things; and although it does not please God to carry on His work so rapidly with you as in the United States. But one soul is worth all the merchandise in the world; and, whoever gets money, do you win souls.

“Never was there, throughout England, Scotland, and Ireland, so great a thirst for the pure word of God as there is at this day. The same we find in the little islands of Man, Wight, Jersey, Guernsey, and Alderney in the Western Ocean. In the Isle of Man alone (thirty miles long) the societies contain about four-and-twenty hundred members. I have just now finished my route through Scotland, where I never had such congregations before. So it pleases God to give me a little more to do, before He calls me hence.

“What has become of brother Scurr, Dodson, and our other Yorkshire friends? Some of them doubtless are gone into a farther country; but some I suppose remain. I doubt you do not keep up a constant intercourse with each other. Love as brethren!

“I am, dear William, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

The following, kindly lent by Charles Reed, Esq., M.P., has not before been published. It was addressed to William Thom, the assistant appointed to Sarum circuit.

“Malton, June 21, 1790.

“My dear Brother,—I concur in the judgment of my brother, that the using of the form of prayer will tend to unite our people to the Church, rather than to separate them from it; especially if you earnestly insist on their going to church every fourth Sunday.

“I am very indifferent concerning the preaching house, and shall not concern myself about it any more. I have lost £10 by it already, although to no purpose. If anything more is done concerning it, it must be done by the people at Sarum themselves.

“I am, with love to sister Thom, dear Billy, your affectionate friend and brother,

“J. Wesley.”

The next was addressed to a bishop, whose name is not given.

“Hull, June 26, 1790.

“My Lord,—It may seem strange, that one, who is not acquainted with your lordship, should trouble you with a letter. But I am constrained to do it; I believe it is my duty both to God and your lordship. And I must speak plain; having nothing to hope or fear in this world, which I am on the point of leaving.

“The Methodists, in general, my lord, are members of the Church of England. They hold all her doctrines, attend her service, and partake of her sacraments. They do not willingly do harm to any one, but do what good they can to all. To encourage each other herein, they frequently spend an hour together in prayer and mutual exhortation. Permit me then to ask, ‘Cui bono? for what reasonable end, would your lordship drive these people out of the Church?’ Are they not as quiet, as inoffensive, nay, as pious, as any of their neighbours? except perhaps here and there a hairbrained man, who knows not what he is about. Do you ask, ‘Who drives them out of the Church?’ Your lordship does; and that in the most cruel manner; yea, and the most disingenuous manner. They desire a licence to worship God after their own conscience. Your lordship refuses it; and then punishes them for not having a licence! So your lordship leaves them only this alternative, ‘Leave the Church or starve.’ And is it a Christian, yea, a protestant bishop, that so persecutes his own flock? I say persecutes; for it is persecution, to all intents and purposes. You do not burn them, indeed, but you starve them; and how small is the difference! And your lordship does this, under colour of a vile, execrable law, not a whit better than that de hæretico comburendo! So persecution, which is banished out of France, is again countenanced in England!

“O my lord, for God’s sake, for Christ’s sake, for pity’s sake, suffer the poor people to enjoy their religious, as well as civil liberty! I am on the brink of eternity! Perhaps so is your lordship too! How soon may you also be called, to give an account of your stewardship, to the great Shepherd and Bishop of our souls! May He enable both you and me to do it with joy! So prays, my lord, your lordship’s dutiful son and servant,

“John Wesley.”

The following letter is without date, but is too characteristic to be omitted.

“You give five reasons why the Rev. Mr. P—— will come no more among us. 1. Because we despise the ministers of the Church of England. This I flatly deny: I am answering letters, this very post, which bitterly blame me for just the contrary. 2. Because so much backbiting and evil speaking is suffered amongst our people. It is not suffered; all possible means are used, both to prevent and remove it. 3. Because I, who have written so much against hoarding up money, have put out £700 to interest. I never put sixpence out to interest since I was born; nor had I ever £100 together, my own, since I came into the world. 4. Because our lay preachers have told many stories of my brother and me. If they did, I am sorry for them; when I hear the particulars, I can answer, and, perhaps, make those ashamed who believed them. 5. Because we did not help a friend in distress. We did help him as far as we were able. ‘But we might have made his case known to Mr. G., Lady H., etc.’ So we did, more than once; but we could not pull money from them, whether they would or no. Therefore, these reasons are of no weight. You conclude with praying, that God would remove pride and malice from amongst us. Of pride, I have too much; of malice, I have none; however, the prayer is good, and I thank you for it.”⁠

The next was addressed to Adam Clarke, then at Bristol.

“June 28, 1790.

“Dear Adam,—I often wonder at the people of Bristol. They are so honest, yet so dull, ’tis scarce possible to strike any fire into them. Only with God all things are possible. Many years ago, I put the society at Bath into a way wherein, if they had persevered, they would now have owed nothing. They were at Plymouth but thirty in number, and their debt was £1400. I advised them, let every member subscribe monthly what he can; and a hundred at the Dock promised to do the same. ‘I,’ said one, ‘will give a crown a month’; ‘I,’ said another, ‘half-a-crown.’ Many subscribed a shilling, sixpence, or threepence a month. And now the debt is paid. I began such a subscription in Bath; as I have done in many places with success. But they left it off in two or three weeks. Why? Because I gave four guineas to prevent one, that was arrested, from going to jail! Good reason, was it not? ‘Why,’ said one and another, ‘might he not have given it to me?’

“On Monday four weeks, I shall probably set out for Bristol. Peace be with your spirits.

“I am, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

While on money matters, let an explanation be given. Wesley asserts, in one of the foregoing letters, that he never had, at one time, since he was born, £100 that was his own. No doubt, excepting an occasional legacy, this was strictly true; and yet, towards the close of life, a year never passed without his giving hundreds of pounds away in charity. Wesley not only kept a journal of his labours, but account books of his income and expenditure. The last of these has, at the end of it, the following entry, in Wesley’s own handwriting, but in penmanship which it is extremely difficult to decipher:

“N.B. For upwards of eighty-six years,⁠ I have kept my accounts exactly. I will not attempt it any longer, being satisfied with the continual conviction, that I save all I can, and give all I can, that is, all I have.

“John Wesley, 

“July 16, 1790.”

What was Wesley’s income? He had £30 a year from the London circuit;⁠ and, in the country, the Methodists occasionally, but not often, paid his hostelry bill, and other similar expenses incurred in travelling. But this was not all. Wesley was the proprietor of a large publishing and book concern, from which he derived considerable profits; but be the profits what they might, they were at once distributed in the work of God, and in acts of charity. In as brief a form as possible, we give, from the book above mentioned, a few items belonging to the last nine years of Wesley’s life.

In 1782, Wesley received £361 19s. Of this, he spent £5 19s. for clothes. The balance, £356, he, with his own hands, gave away; and, during the same year, John Atlay, his book steward, by his directions, gave a further sum of £237 13s.; making £593 13s. for the year.

In 1783, he, and his steward by his orders, gave £832 1s. 6d. In 1784, £534 17s. 6d. In 1785, £851 12s. In 1786, £738 5s. In 1787, including his travelling expenses, £961 4s. In 1788, the last year Atlay acted for him, the two united gave in charity £738 4s.

At the end of his accounts for 1789, he writes:

“I have given this year by myself

£206

0

0

[729]

560

0

0

Travelling

60

0

0

“But I can be accurate no⁠ ... ‘Not as I will, but as Thou wilt.’”

No one can dispute that the profits of Wesley’s book establishment were as much his own property as the profits of any of the great publishing houses in Paternoster Row; but, of these profits, he literally spent none upon himself, except for an occasional suit of clothes. All were most scrupulously given, as fast as they were realised, and sometimes faster, to the support and extension of the great work to which his long life was cheerfully devoted, and to the relief of the distresses of his fellow creatures as far as he had the power. Dr. Whitehead says, it was supposed that, in the course of fifty years, Wesley gave away between twenty and thirty thousand pounds. Henry Moore writes: “Mr. Wesley’s accounts lie before me, and his expenses are noted with the greatest exactness. Every penny is recorded; and, I am persuaded, the supposed £30,000 might be increased several thousands more.”⁠

Wesley made a will, in which he bequeathed his book business, and his books then on sale, (subject to a rent charge of £85 a year to the widow and children of his brother,) to the Methodist conference, in trust “for carrying on the work of God, by itinerant preachers”; his furniture, books, and whatever else belonged to him at Kingswood, to Coke, Mather, and Moore, “in trust, to be still employed in teaching and maintaining the children of poor travelling preachers”; all the books which belonged to him in his studies at London and other places, to Coke, Whitehead, and Moore, “in trust, for the use of the preachers who shall labour there from time to time”; all his manuscripts to the same Coke, Whitehead, and Moore, “to be burned, or published, as they saw good”; his gowns, cassocks, sashes, and bands in City Road chapel, “for the use of the clergymen attending there”; his “pelisse to the Rev. Mr. Creighton”; all the rest of his “wearing apparel to four of the travelling preachers that wanted it most”; his watch to Joseph Bradford; his gold seal to Elizabeth Ritchie; his chaise and horses to James Ward and Charles Wheeler, “in trust, to be sold, and the money to be divided, one half to Hannah Abbott, and the other to the members of the select society”; and copies of the eight volumes of his sermons to “each travelling preacher who should remain in the connexion six months after his decease.”

All this was property, but not money. Hitherto, not a coin has been bequeathed; but still there are six clauses in Wesley’s will, which may be designated monetary. We give them in substance, though the first two seem to contradict each other. (1) All the coins, and whatever else was found in the drawer of his bureau at London, to his granddaughters, Mary and Jane Smith. (2) Whatever money remained in his bureau and pockets, to Thomas Briscoe, William Collins, John Easton, and Isaac Brown. (3) Out of the first money arising from the sale of books, £40 to his sister Martha, £40 to Mr. Creighton, and £60 to the Rev. Mr. Heath. (4) The annuity of £5, left by Roger Shiel to Kingswood school, to be paid to Henry Brooke, Arthur Keene, and William Whitestone. (5) A pound each to the six poor men who should carry his body to the grave. (6) Any personal estate, undisposed of, to be given to his two nieces, E. Ellison, S. Collet, equally.

The reader has here the substance of Wesley’s will. Where were his hoardings, his money put out to interest, his landed, household, and chapel property? He had none. He died, as he had lived, without a purse. He had been his own executor as far as possible; and now had nothing to bequeath, except what, in his lifetime, could not easily be turned into current coin.

We return to his itinerary. Leaving Hull, Wesley proceeded to Lincolnshire. On June 29, the crowd at Owston was such that he had to preach in the open air. At Lincoln, his text was, “One thing is needful.” “Is this the great Mr. Wesley?” exclaimed a lady when retiring: “why, the poorest person in the chapel might understand him.” “Yes,” replied a gentleman; “in this he displays his greatness, that while the most ignorant can understand him, the most learned are edified, and can take no offence.”⁠ On Friday, July 2, he preached twice, once out of doors at Newton, and a second time in the chapel at Gainsborough. On Saturday, he preached at Epworth, and met the society. On Sunday, July 4, he attended his father’s church, where the congregation was five times, and the attendance at sacrament ten times, larger than usual. Besides this, he preached at Misterton, to a great multitude, “under a spreading tree”; and, in Epworth market place, to “such a congregation as was never seen at Epworth before.”

Here occurs an eight weeks’ hiatus in Wesley’s journal. The space between July 4 and August 27 we shall fill up in the best way we can.

At Doncaster, where he had a crowded congregation, a burly butcher, noted for his popery, his wickedness, and his pugilistic feats, was converted, became a Methodist, and, to his dying day, continued a peaceful, humble, loving Christian.⁠ This was probably on July 5, as, on the day following, he was at Rotherham.⁠ There can be no question, that Sheffield also would be visited; and, most likely, Derby and Nottingham; also perhaps Castle Donington, Leicester, Coventry, and other places. At all events, the Castle Donington old stewards’ book contains this item: “1790. Paid for Mr. Wesley’s carriage through the circuit, £1 6s.”⁠

We cannot trace him farther; but, three weeks after he was at Doncaster and Rotherham, he opened his conference at Bristol,—the last that he attended. Charles Atmore writes: “Mr. Wesley appeared very feeble; his eyesight had failed so much that he could not see to give out the hymns; yet his voice was strong, his spirit remarkably lively, and the powers of his mind, and his love towards his fellow creatures, were as bright and as ardent as ever.”⁠

The only legislation at this conference was concerning preachers and preaching houses.

In reference to the latter, it was determined: (1) That, in future, all chapels should be built on the same plan as those in Bath and in City Road. (2) No chapel should be undertaken without the consent of a majority of the connexional building committee. (3) Not a stone was to be laid, till the chapel was settled after the Methodist form, verbatim; nor until two thirds of the estimated expense were subscribed; and no collections were to be made for any chapel except in the circuit where it was to be erected.

Then in reference to preachers: (1) None, in future, were to attend conference, except those whose travelling expenses were paid by the circuits in which they respectively laboured. Those in Scotland and Wales were to be the only exceptions. (2) The assistants were to tell the people, that every circuit must bear its own burden, and that those circuits which “did not provide for their preachers and their children, (except Scotland, Ireland, and Wales,) should have no more preachers sent to them, for the time to come, than they would provide for.” (3) No assistant was to take into society any one put out by his predecessor, without consulting him. (4) Preachers were never to hasten home to their families, after evening preaching, till they had met the society. (5) No preacher was to leave conference before the conclusion of it, without consent publicly obtained. (6) No preacher was to preach three times the same day to the same congregation; or oftener than twice on a week day, or thrice on Sundays.

In reference to the last of these regulations, Adam Clarke relates that Wesley was outwitted. In a private meeting with some of his principal and senior preachers, Wesley proposed that no preacher should preach thrice on the same day. Messrs. Mather, Pawson, Thompson, and others objected. Wesley replied: “It must be given up; we shall lose our preachers by such excessive labour.” They answered: “We have all done so; and you, even at a very advanced age, have continued to do so.” “What I have done,” said he, “is out of the question: my life and strength have been under an especial providence; besides, I know better than they how to preach without injuring myself; and no man can preach thrice a day without killing himself sooner or later; and the custom shall not be continued.” The objectors pressed the point no further, finding that he was determined; but deceived him after all, by altering the minute thus, when it was sent to press: “No preacher shall preach three times the same day, to the same congregation.”

This was not ingenuous. Wesley was right; and Methodism has paid an incalculable penalty by disregarding his almost dying wish. Clarke justly remarks:

“He who preaches the gospel, as he ought, must do it with his whole strength of body and soul; and he who undertakes a labour of this kind thrice every Lord’s day will infallibly shorten his life by it. He who, instead of preaching, talks to the people,—merely speaks about good things, or tells a religious story,—will never injure himself by such an employment: but such a person does not labour in the word and doctrine; he tells his tale; and, as he preaches, so his congregation believes; and sinners are left as he found them.”⁠

During the last decade of years in Wesley’s life, Methodism had made amazing progress. In 1780, there were 64 circuits in the United Kingdom; now there were 115. Then there were 171 itinerant preachers employed; now there were 294. Then there were 43,380 members of society; now there were 71,568. Then there were no missionary stations; now 19 missionaries were appointed to Antigua, Barbadoes, St. Vincent’s, St. Christopher’s, Nevis, Tortola, Jamaica, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland, which had an aggregate membership of 5350 persons,—800 in Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, and 4550 in the West Indies. In 1780, there were in America twenty circuits, 42 itinerant preachers, and 8504 members of society. In 1790, there were 114 circuits, 228 itinerant preachers, and 57,631 members of society.

These statistics, put into another form, will stand thus.

Methodist Circuits throughout the world.

Methodist Itinerant Preachers.

Methodist Members.

1790

240

541

134,549

1780

84

213

52,334

Increase

156

328

82,215

Marvellous had been the success of Methodism up to the year 1780; and, yet, the results during the last ten years of Wesley’s life were much more than double the united results of the forty years preceding!

Before leaving the conference of 1790, we insert an unpublished letter, addressed by Miss Ritchie to the wife of one of Wesley’s clerical assistants, the Rev. Peard Dickenson.

“August 3, 1790.

“... I felt much for our Zion previous to the conference. Our dear and honoured father’s state of health was alarming; but prayer was heard, and he is much better, and things have such an appearance as revives my hope that we shall still go on in the good old way.

“Mr. Wesley has very openly and fully declared his sentiments respecting the impropriety of a separation from the Church; and the preachers, in general, have agreed to abide by the old plan. I sincerely pity Dr. Coke; but I really believe good will be brought out of evil.

“The preachers have had a most searching conference, and the Lord has been very present. The preachers’ dress has been largely debated, and what is verging towards worldly conformity is to be laid aside. We all lament dress as a growing evil among the Methodists; and, if the preachers are not patterns in this respect, how can they exhort the people? One morning, at breakfast, among a very few select friends, Mr. Wesley said he had some things to complain of, which he had better mention before half-a-dozen persons than before a hundred. Among other things, he spoke with disapprobation of the ruffles on Mr. Dickenson’s shirts. I endeavoured to soften matters, saying, that you desired to take them off, and that, if this was not already done, it was because you had been prevented; on which I was requested to mention to you the conversation which had taken place. My dear sister, let me beg of you then, never to let Mr. Dickenson wear a ruffled shirt again. You both love our dear father too well to grieve him. Yours in Jesus,

“Elizabeth Ritchie.”

As soon as the Bristol conference was ended, the veteran evangelist again set out on his glorious mission, and spent the next three weeks in Wales. At Brecon, he preached in the town hall; and in Watton chapel, on the state of the church at Ephesus, and our Lord’s lamentation over Jerusalem.⁠ At Haverfordwest, he wrote as follows, to Thomas Roberts, then a young preacher, of four years’ standing, whom he had just appointed to the Bristol circuit.

“Haverfordwest, August 13, 1790.

“Dear Tommy,—Now I shall make a trial of you, whether I can confide in you or no. Since I came hither, I have been much concerned. This is the most important circuit in all Wales; but it has been vilely neglected by the assistant, whom, therefore, I can trust no more. I can trust you, even in so critical a case. I desire, therefore, that, whoever opposes, you will set out immediately, and come hither as soon as ever you can. I wish you could meet me at Cardiff, or Cowbridge. You will see, by the printed plan, when I shall be at either of those places. If you have not notice enough to do this, meet me to-morrow sennight at the New Passage, unless you can get a passage by the weekly boat to Swansea. If it be possible, do not fail. It may be, this may be the beginning of a lasting friendship between you and, dear Tommy, yours, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

At Pembroke, Wesley wrote the following to Mr. William Mears, a useful local preacher, at Rochester.

“Pembroke, August 16, 1790.

“My dear Brother,—It is my desire that all things be done to the satisfaction of all parties. If, therefore, it be more convenient, let brother Pritchard’s⁠ family be at Canterbury, and sister Boone⁠ lodge in Chatham house.

“Why do you not again set on foot a weekly subscription in order to lessen your debt? Have neither the preachers nor the people any spirit in them? Who begins? I will give half-a-crown a week for a year, if all of you will make it up twenty shillings.

“I am, dear Billy, your affectionate brother,

“John Wesley.”

In a letter to his niece, Miss Sarah Wesley, dated “Near Cowbridge, August 18, 1790,” he writes: “I always reprove profane sailors, or, what is worse, profane gentlemen; and many of them will receive it civilly, if not thankfully. They all know, captains as well as common men, that swearing is not necessary. And, even now, we have captains of several men-of-war who do not swear at all; and never were men better obeyed.”⁠

Thus was Wesley always about his heavenly Father’s work. On August 27, he returned to Bristol, in the neighbourhood of which he was busily employed till September 27.

In the morning of Sunday, August 29, he read prayers, preached, and administered the Lord’s supper, a service in which, without assistance, he was occupied for three full hours; and, yet, in the afternoon, he preached again, out of doors. The next day, we find him preaching twice, at Castle Carey, and Ditcheat.

On Tuesday 31, he was visited by a lusus naturæ, William Kingston, born without arms, who, in Wesley’s presence, took his teacup between his toes, and the toast with his other foot; and afterwards, by another feat, showed himself to be a man of no mean penmanship. On the same day, Wesley had “a lovely congregation at Shepton Mallet,” and a crowded one at Pensford.

During the remainder of the week, he preached at Bristol, and corrected and abridged the Life of Mrs. Scudamore.

On Saturday, September 4, he went to Bath and preached; and on Sunday, the 5th, writes: “At ten we had a numerous congregation, and more communicants than ever I saw here before. This day, I cut off that vile custom, I know not when or how it began, of preaching three times a day by the same preacher to the same congregation; enough to weary out both the bodies and minds of the speaker, as well as his hearers.” On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, in the ensuing week, he preached once daily, and on Friday twice.

On Sunday, September 12, he employed himself in Bristol, and, during the week following, met the classes, containing 944 members, and likewise preached at Thornbury, and at Kingswood.

In labour like this the whole month was spent.

At the preceding conference, Wesley had appointed Adam Clarke to the Dublin circuit, and, on September 5, Adam wrote him a long letter, telling him that Thomas Rutherford had been laid aside by rheumatic fever, and that the results of a religious revival had been destroyed by the extravagant irregularities of those who conducted the prayer-meetings during Mr. Rutherford’s illness. These meetings had been, and still were, kept up till ten or eleven o’clock on Sunday nights, and sometimes till twelve and one; and it was no uncommon thing for a person, in the midst of them, to give an exhortation of half or three quarters of an hour’s continuance. Clarke wished to correct these irregularities, and wrote to Wesley for advice,⁠ who replied to him as follows.

“Bristol, September 9, 1790.

“Dear Adam,—Did not the terrible weather that you had at sea make you forget your fatigue by land? Come, set one against the other, and you have no great reason to complain of your journey.

“You will have need of all the courage and prudence God has given you. Indeed, you will want constant supplies of both. Very gently, and very steadily, you should proceed between the rocks on either hand. In the great revival at London, my first difficulty was, to bring into temper those who opposed the work; and my next, to check and regulate the extravagances of those that promoted it. And this was far the hardest part of the work; for many of them would bear no check at all. But I followed one rule, though with all calmness: ‘You must either bend or break.’ Meantime, while you act exactly right, expect to be blamed by both sides. I will give you a few directions. (1) See that no prayer-meeting continue later than nine at night, particularly on Sunday: let the house be emptied before the clock strikes nine. (2) Let there be no exhortation at any prayer-meeting. (3) Beware of jealousy, or judging one another. (4) Never think a man is an enemy to the work, because he reproves irregularities. Peace be with you and yours!

“I am, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

Clarke acted upon Wesley’s good advice, and wrote him the results. Wesley answered.

“Bedford, October 28, 1790.

“Dear Adam,—I am glad my letter had so good an effect. I dearly love our precious society in Dublin, and cannot but be keenly sensible of anything that gives them disturbance. I am glad our leaders have adopted that excellent method of regularly changing their classes. Wherever this has been done, it has been a means of quickening both the leaders and the people. I wish this custom could be more extensively introduced.

“You did well to prevent all irregular and turbulent prayer-meetings, and, at all hazards, to keep the meetings of the society private.

“Poor Mr. Smyth is now used just as he used me. He must either bend or break. Although you cannot solicit any of Bethesda to join with us, yet neither can you refuse them when they offer their hand.

“You do well to offer all possible courtesy to Mr. William Smyth and his family.

“As long as the society in Dublin continues upward of a thousand, you will have no reason to complain.

“I am, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

Before returning to Wesley’s journal, another letter may be welcome. It was addressed to Mr. Robert C. Brackenbury. Wesley’s reference to himself is touching; and his remarks on the doctrine of Christian perfection ought to be remembered.

“Bristol, September 15, 1790.

“Dear Sir,—I am glad to find you are in better bodily health, and not weary and faint in your mind. My body seems nearly to have done its work, and to be almost worn out. Last month, my strength was nearly gone, and I could have sat almost still from morning to night. But, blessed be God, I crept about a little, and made shift to preach once a day. On Monday, I ventured a little further; and, after I had preached three times (once in the open air), I found my strength so restored, that I could have preached again without inconvenience.

“I am glad brother D—— has more light with regard to full sanctification. This doctrine is the grand depositum which God has lodged with the people called Methodists; and, for the sake of propagating this chiefly, He appeared to have raised them up.

“I congratulate you upon sitting loose to all below; stedfast in the liberty wherewith Christ has made you free. Moderate riding on horseback, chiefly in the south of England, would improve your health. If you choose to accompany me, in any of my little journeys on this side Christmas, whenever you were tired you might go into my carriage. I am not so ready a writer as I was once; but, I bless God, I can scrawl a little,—enough to assure you that,

“I am, dear sir, your affectionate friend and brother,

“John Wesley.”

On Monday, September 27, Wesley set out from Bristol to London, and preached at Devizes and Salisbury. On Wednesday we find him preaching at Winchester and Portsmouth; and on Thursday and Friday at Newport, in the Isle of Wight.

On Saturday, October 2, he left Portsmouth, at two o’clock in the morning; and, at Cobham, twenty miles from London, was met by James and Hester Ann Rogers, and six other friends, in carriages, to welcome him.⁠ Mr. Rogers writes: “He arrived in good health and spirits. We all dined at Cobham, and, about six in the evening, reached London, where we praised the Lord with joyful hearts.”⁠

The next day, Sunday, October 3, he preached twice in the City Road chapel, and held a lovefeast. Rogers says:

“Many souls were greatly comforted. Indeed, his preaching, during the whole winter, was attended with uncommon unction; and he frequently spoke, both in his sermons and exhortations, as if each time were to be his last; and often desired the people to receive what he advanced as his dying charge. His conversation also, in his family, seemed to indicate a presentiment of death. He frequently spoke of the state of separate spirits, and their particular employments; and, for the last three months of his life, there were scarcely three evenings passed together, but he gave out and sung, in the family, the hymn beginning with the line, ‘Shrinking from the cold hand of death.’”⁠

After spending two short days in London, Wesley set off, on October 5, to Rye, a distance of upwards of sixty miles, and preached to a large and serious congregation. The day after, for the last time, he preached in the open air. This was at Winchelsea, beneath an ash tree, in the churchyard,—a tree long protected by the vicar of the parish, and known for miles round, by the name of “Wesley’s Tree,” though often mutilated by pilgrim Methodists, who chopped and lopped it for wood to make it into Methodist snuff boxes, and other un Wesleyan mementoes of Wesley’s last outdoor preaching service. On one occasion, a local preacher was detected in the act of bearing away a bough in pious triumph, was apprehended for the theft, had to beg for mercy, was solemnly reprimanded, and was threatened with transportation, in case of repeating the offence. Wesley’s text, at Winchelsea, was a part of Christ’s first outdoor sermon, “The kingdom of God is at hand; repent ye, and believe the gospel;” and he writes: “It seemed as if all that heard were, for the present, almost persuaded to be Christians.” Robert Miller was with him at the time, and says: “The word was attended with mighty power, and the tears of the people flowed in torrents.”⁠ On the evening of the same day, he preached again at Rye.

Returning to London, for the services on Sunday, October 10, Wesley started on the day following for Norfolk. At Colchester, things were disheartening, but he says he had, “on Monday and Tuesday evenings, wonderful congregations of rich and poor, clergy and laity.” One of his hearers was a shoemaker, a young man of twenty-four, who was then convinced of sin, became a useful local preacher, and often returned from his appointments besmeared, from head to foot, with the filthy missiles of persecuting mobs. William Candler, the preaching shoemaker, took a deep interest in the spiritual welfare of soldiers, and was not unrewarded; for, one morning, to his great surprise, he received a government commission to make military shoes, and an extraordinary despatch, from the Colchester commanding officer, that all the shoemakers in the regiments stationed at Harwich, Ipswich, and Colchester, should assist him in executing the martial order. For near fifty years, William Candler rendered important service to the cause of Christ, and then, in 1838, died, kissing his family, and whispering to each, “Good bye; God bless you!”⁠

In years past, Colchester had been one of Wesley’s favourite places; but now, he says, “the society was lessened, and cold enough; preaching was discontinued, and the spirit of Methodism quite gone, from the preachers and the people.” All this was the result of the clerical interference of the Rev. Mr. S——, of St. Peter’s, who had adopted the theory, that, wherever there was a gospel ministry in the Church, Methodist preaching ought to cease, and Methodist societies be handed over to the care of the gospel clergyman. To accomplish this at Colchester, no pains were spared, and even gifts and bribes were used. Wesley was annoyed, and, in the course of his sermon, said: “I understand there is a sheep stealer in Colchester, who takes both sheep and lambs from his neighbour’s fold at will. Now, I charge that man to desist; or to meet me, and answer for his deeds, at the bar of God, in the day of judgment.” The reverend gentleman was present; and his subsequent conduct showed that he was not a forgetful hearer.⁠

Wesley had, in his congregation, at Colchester, another remarkable hearer, Henry Crabb Robinson, who writes:

“It was, I believe, in October 1790, that I heard John Wesley in the great round meeting-house at Colchester. He stood in a wide pulpit, and on each side of him stood a minister, and the two held him up, having their hands under his armpits. His feeble voice was barely audible; but his reverend countenance, especially his long white locks, formed a picture never to be forgotten. There was a vast crowd of lovers and admirers. It was for the most part a pantomime, but the pantomime went to the heart. Of the kind, I never saw anything comparable to it in after life.”

Considering the long picturesque life which Mr. Robinson lived subsequent to this, the last sentence is remarkable. In a letter dated October 18, 1790, this young auditor, then fifteen years of age, remarks:

“I felt great satisfaction last week in hearing that veteran in the service of God, the Rev. John Wesley. At another time, and not knowing the man, I should almost have ridiculed his figure. Far from it now. I looked upon him with a respect bordering upon enthusiasm. After the people had sung one verse of a hymn, he arose and said: ‘It gives me a great pleasure to find that you have not lost your singing; neither men nor women. You have not forgotten a single note. And I hope, by the assistance of God, which enables you to sing well, you may do all other things well.’ A universal ‘Amen’ followed. At the end of every head or division of his discourse, he finished by a kind of prayer, a momentary wish as it were, not consisting of more than three or four words, which was always followed by a universal buzz. His discourse was short. The text I could not hear. After the last prayer, he rose up and addressed the people on liberality of sentiment, and spoke much against refusing to join with any congregation on account of difference in opinion.”⁠

On Wednesday, October 13, Wesley went from Colchester to Norwich, and writes: “I preached; but the house would in nowise contain the congregation. How wonderfully is the tide turned! I am become an honourable man at Norwich. God has, at length, made our enemies to be at peace with us; and scarce any but antinomians open their mouths against us.”

The next day, he preached at Yarmouth, to a congregation “far too large to get into the chapel.” And the day following at Lowestoft. Here again, he had another distinguished hearer, the poet Crabbe; and repeated the well known lines from Anacreon, with an application of his own.

Crabbe was greatly struck with the reverend appearance of the aged preacher, with his cheerful air, and the beautiful cadence he gave to the lines he quoted; and, after the service, was introduced to him, and was received with benevolent politeness.⁠

On Saturday, October 16, Wesley preached at Loddon and at Norwich; and, next day, twice again in the latter city, besides administering the sacrament at seven o’clock in the morning, to about one hundred and fifty persons. He writes: “I take knowledge, that the last year’s preachers were in earnest. Afterwards, we went to our own parish church; although there was no sermon there, nor at any of the thirty-six churches in the town, save the cathedral and St. Peter’s.” Who will say that Methodist preaching was not needed in this non-preaching diocesan city?

On Monday, October 18, Wesley preached at Swaffham, and at Lynn. At the latter place, he preached again on Tuesday, administered the sacrament,⁠ made a collection for the Sunday-schools, and had present to hear him all the clergymen of the town, except one, whose lameness prevented his attending. On Wednesday, the 20th, he occupied the church at Diss, one of the largest in the county. “I suppose,” says he, “it has not been so filled these hundred years.” His text was, “Seek ye the Lord while He may be found”; and the results of the sermon were remarkable and lasting.⁠

On the evening of the same day, and also on the day following, he preached at Bury St. Edmunds; and on Friday, October 22, returned to London.

The last entry, in Wesley’s published journal, is dated two days later. “Sunday, October 24—I explained, to a numerous congregation, in Spitalfields church, ‘the whole armour of God,’ St. Paul’s, Shadwell, was still more crowded in the afternoon, while I enforced that important truth, ‘one thing is needful’; and I hope many, even then, resolved to choose the better part.”

There can be little doubt, that the rest of the year was occupied with what Wesley often called his “little journeys,” into Bedfordshire, Northamptonshire, Hertfordshire, Kent, etc. The reader will catch glimpses of him in the following letters.

The first was addressed to his niece, Miss Sarah Wesley, at Mrs. Whitcomb’s, in Margate. The reference to his relatives is significant and painful.

“London, October 5, 1790.

“Dear Sally,—I am glad you are situated so comfortably. Mrs. Whitcomb does really fear God; and, I hope, before you leave her house, will know what it is to love Him. Providence has not sent you to spend a little time in Margate merely on your own account. Before you leave it, she, with several others, shall have reason to praise God that you came. See that you lose no time. A word spoken in season how good is it! Warn every one, and exhort every one, if by any means you may save some. ‘In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand; for thou knowest not which shall prosper.’ Say not, ‘I can do nothing, I am slow of speech.’ True; but who made the tongue? You have seen sister Boon, a loving, simple hearted woman. Be a follower of her, as she is of Christ. Why should you not meet in her class? I think you will not be ashamed. Is it not a good opportunity of coming a little nearer to them that love you well? Let me have the comfort of one relation, at least, that will be an assistant to me in the blessed work of God.

“I must visit other places before I come into Kent, as well as visit the classes in London; so that I cannot be at Margate till the latter end of next month. If you stay there till then, you will see me.

“I am, my dear Sally, your affectionate uncle,

“John Wesley.”

The next was written the day after his return to town from Norfolk, and was addressed to James Macdonald, then stationed at Newry, in Ireland. It will be seen, that the Methodist sin of neglecting fasting is not of recent growth.

“London, October 23, 1790.

“My dear Brother,—You have great reason to praise God for His late glorious work at and near Newry; and I make no doubt, but it will continue, yea, and increase, if the subjects of it continue to walk humbly and closely with God. Exhort all our brethren steadily to wait upon God in the appointed means of fasting and prayer; the former of which has been almost universally neglected by the Methodists, both in England and Ireland. But it is a true remark of Kempis: ‘The more thou deniest thyself, the more thou wilt grow in grace.’

“I am, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

Something has been already said respecting the division of circuits. The Dales circuit in 1790 had forty-three preaching places, including Barnardcastle, Bishop Auckland, Appleby, Alstone, Allendale, Wolsingham, Hexham, Penrith, and Kendal,—now all of them circuit towns themselves. The nearest neighbouring circuit, eastwards, was Yarm; westwards, Whitehaven; northwards, Newcastle; and southwards, Thirsk. This will give the reader an idea of the enormous region embraced in the Dales circuit at the time to which we are now adverting. Within the same border, there are now not fewer than at least twenty circuit towns, most of them the centre of a large cluster of smaller towns and villages.⁠ The Dales circuit, in 1790, had three itinerant preachers, and 980 members of society, who contributed for the maintenance of their preaching triumvirate, during the quarter in which Wesley died, the sum of £29 8s. 6d., sevenpence per member per quarter, and affording £9 16s. 2d. for the support of each preacher, his wife, and family, and the general maintenance of Methodist machinery throughout the circuit.⁠ George Holder was the assistant, and Jonathan Hern and John Wittam were his colleagues. The feed was poor, the pay pauperish, the journeys long, the roads bad, the region mountainous, and the work heavy. There was a wish to divide the circuit; but the following was Wesley’s reply to Holder.

“London, October 30, 1790.

“Dear George,—The assistant in every circuit (not the leaders) is to determine how each preacher is to travel. If Jonathan Hern will not, or cannot, take his turn with his fellow labourers, I must send another that will. I do not like dividing circuits. Could not three or more of the northern places be added to the Sunderland or Newcastle circuits, in order to lessen yours, and bring it into a six weeks’ circuit? Pray send me the manner of your travelling through your circuit. I think, I shall order it better.

“I am, with love to sister Holder, dear George, yours, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

A small circuit then was one of the things which Wesley thought inimical to the interests of Methodism. Was Wesley right? Unless Methodist preachers can become thoroughly pastoral in their habits,—a thing which triennial changes render extremely difficult,—would it not be better for circuits to be of such a size as to make daily preaching a healthy duty, instead of being so circumscribed that one or two sermons, between sabbaths, is all that their necessities require? This is a serious problem, which we must leave to be solved by others.

Another hindrance, as Wesley thought, to Methodist progress, was the neglect of reading. Hence the following extract from an unpublished letter, dated November 8, 1790.

“If you and your wife strengthen each other’s hands in God, then you will surely receive a blessing from Him. But it is not abundance of money, or any creature, that can make us happy without Him.

“It cannot be that the people should grow in grace, unless they give themselves to reading. A reading people will always be a knowing people. A people who talk much will know little. Press this upon them with your might; and you will soon see the fruit of your labours.”

An extract from another letter may be given here. The letter was addressed to Alexander Mather.

“No, Aleck, no! The danger of ruin to Methodism does not lie here. It springs from quite a different quarter. Our preachers, many of them, are fallen. They are not spiritual. They are not alive to God. They are soft, enervated, fearful of shame, toil, hardship. They have not the spirit which God gave to Thomas Lee at Pateley Bridge, or to you at Boston. Give me one hundred preachers, who fear nothing but sin, and desire nothing but God, and I care not a straw whether they be clergymen or laymen, such alone will shake the gates of hell, and set up the kingdom of heaven upon earth.”⁠

As we have often shown, Wesley regarded the preaching of the doctrine of Christian perfection as of the utmost importance. The following letter to Adam Clarke is to the same effect.

“London, November 26, 1790.

“Dear Adam,—To retain the grace of God, is much more than to gain it; hardly one in three does this. And this should be strongly and explicitly urged on all who have tasted of perfect love. If we can prove that any of our local preachers or leaders, either directly or indirectly, speak against it, let him be a local preacher or leader no longer. I doubt whether he should continue in society. Because he, that could speak thus in our congregations, cannot be an honest man. I wish sister Clarke to do what she can, but no more than she can. Betsy Ritchie, Miss Johnson, and Mary Clarke are women after my own heart. Last week I had an excellent letter from Mrs. Pawson, (a glorious witness of full salvation,) showing how impossible it is to retain pure love without growing therein. I am, etc.,

“John Wesley.”

Such letters might be greatly multiplied. We only add another. He was now an old man, and extremely feeble; and Mr. Ireland, having heard that claret wine had been recommended to him by his medical adviser, sent him a small case as a present. The wine was seized by the custom house authorities, to whom Wesley addressed the following laconic letter.

“City Road, November 14, 1790.

“Gentlemen,—Two or three days ago, Mr. Ireland sent me, as a present, two dozen of French claret, which I am ordered to drink, during my present weakness. At the White Swan it was seized. Beg it may be restored to,

“Your obedient servant,

“John Wesley.

“Whatever duty comes due, I will see duly paid.”

The letter seems to have been returned to the dying man; and, across it, a government official curtly wrote: “No. M. W.”⁠

Wesley’s only publication, in 1790, besides the thirteenth volume of his Magazine, was his translation of “The New Testament, with an Analysis of the several Books and Chapters.” 16mo, 424 pages. In his preface, he remarks:

“In this edition, the translation is brought as near as possible to the original; yet the alterations are few and seemingly small; but they may be of considerable importance. Though the old division of chapters is retained, for the more easy finding of any text, yet the whole is likewise divided, according to the sense, into distinct sections; a little circumstance which makes many passages more intelligible to the reader. The analysis of every book and epistle is prefixed to it. And this view of the general scope of each will give light to all the particulars.”

It ought to be remarked, that this is, by no means, a verbatim reprint of Wesley’s translation, published with his Notes in 1755. The book is extremely scarce; but the variations are too numerous and minute to be pointed out in a work like this.

As it respects the Magazine, there can be no doubt, that all the articles composing it may be considered to be in harmony with Wesley’s own sentiments; but, as usual, in this review, we only notice the articles which Wesley himself contributed; and that, principally, for the purpose of obtaining knowledge of his latest opinions and feelings. We pass over his “Thoughts on Memory”; his critique on Captain Wilson’s “Account of the Pelew Islands”; and his “Thoughts on Suicide”; and direct attention to his last, his dying manifesto, on separation from the Established Church. The article is dated, “December 11, 1789,” and is in the April number of the Magazine for 1790.

He states that, next to the primitive church, he had, from childhood, esteemed the Church of England as the most scriptural, national church in the world; and had, therefore, not only assented to all the doctrines, but observed all the rubric in the liturgy; and that with all possible exactness, even at the peril of his life. He proceeds to give the history of the rise of Methodism, and of his own irregularities; and thus concludes:

“I never had any design of separating from the Church. I have no such design now. I do not believe, the Methodists in general design it, when I am no more seen. I do, and will do, all that is in my power to prevent such an event. Nevertheless, in spite of all that I can do, many of them will separate from it (although, I am apt to think, not one half, perhaps not one third of them). These will be so bold and injudicious as to form a separate party, which, consequently, will dwindle away into a dry, dull, separate party. In flat opposition to these, I declare once more, that I live and die a member of the Church of England; and that none, who regard my judgment or advice, will ever separate from it.”

To the same effect is his sermon on “No man taketh this honour unto himself, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron,”—a sermon which he wrote at Cork, in May 1789, and published in his magazine, twelve months afterwards. He correctly maintains that, in ancient times, the offices of priest and preacher were entirely distinct. Priests were not preachers; and preachers, or prophets, were not priests. He argues that, in the New Testament, the office of an evangelist is not the same as that of a pastor. Pastors presided over the flock, and administered the sacraments; evangelists helped them, and preached the word. He asserts that the same distinction is recognised in the English, presbyterian, and Roman churches; and then, coming to Methodism, tells his readers that Methodist itinerant preachers are evangelists, not pastors; and that their work is wholly and solely to preach, not to administer sacraments. His address to them is worth quoting.

“God has commissioned you to call sinners to repentance; but it does by no means follow from hence, that ye are commissioned to baptize, or to administer the Lord’s supper. Ye never dreamt of this, for ten or twenty years after ye began to preach. Ye did not then, like Korah Dathan, and Abiram, seek the priesthood also. Ye knew, ‘No man taketh this honour to himself, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron.’ O contain yourselves within your own bounds. Be content with preaching the gospel. Do the work of evangelists. I earnestly advise you, abide in your place; keep your own station. Ye were fifty years ago,—those of you that were then Methodist preachers,—extraordinary messengers of God, not going in your own will, but thrust out, not to supersede, but to provoke to jealousy the ordinary messengers. In God’s name, stop there! Both, by your preaching and example, provoke them to love and good works. Ye are a new phenomenon in the earth; a body of people, who, being of no sect or party, are friends to all parties, and endeavour to forward all, in the knowledge and love of God and man. Ye yourselves were, at first, called in the Church of England; and though ye have and will have a thousand temptations to leave it, regard them not. Be Church of England men still. Do not cast away the peculiar glory which God hath put upon you, and frustrate the design of Providence, the very end for which God raised you up.”

In reply to the charge that he himself had already separated from the Church, Wesley allows, that he deviated from the rules of the Church in “preaching abroad,” in “praying extempore,” in forming societies, and in employing lay preachers; but he adds:

“All this is not separating from the Church. So far from it, that, whenever I have opportunity, I attend the Church service myself, and advise all our societies so to do. Nevertheless, the generality even of religious people naturally think, ‘I am inconsistent.’ And they cannot but think so, unless they observe my two principles. The one, that I dare not separate from the Church, that I believe it would be a sin so to do; the other, that I believe it would be a sin not to vary from it in the points above mentioned. I say, put these two principles together, first, I will not separate from the Church; yet, secondly, in cases of necessity, I will vary from it; and inconsistency vanishes away. I have been true to my profession from 1730 to this day.”

Here we leave the matter. This is the last time we shall quote Wesley on separation from the Church. We care not either to vindicate or to condemn his thoughts and course of conduct. In a few lines, Wesley here says all that can be said in favour of the anomalous position in which he stood: he did not separate, but he varied from the Church of England. It will be difficult for either sophistry or sound argument to make either more or less than this of the vexed question,—the difference between Wesley’s profession and his practice in reference to his continued adherence to, or separation from, the Established Church. He lived and died a hearty, but inconsistent Churchman.

There is another point which must be mentioned. The reader has already seen Wesley’s intense anxiety in reference to rich Methodists. In the last fourteen sermons that he wrote, during the last two years of his eventful life, and which were, for the first time, published in the magazines for 1790, 1791, and 1792, he again and again, in the strongest and most affecting language, reverts to this momentous matter. Exception may be taken to his opinions; but they are worthy of being quoted. They are the last sentiments of an old man, with unparalleled experience; and, throughout a long life, were by himself reduced to practice. The following are extracts.

In the remarkable sermon, on Jeremiah viii. 22, written in Dublin, July 2, 1789, in which he tries to answer the question, “Why has Christianity done so little good in the world?” he writes:

“Who regards those solemn words, Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth? Of the three rules, which are laid down on this head, in the sermon on The Mammon of Unrighteousness, you may find many that observe the first rule, namely, Gain all you can. You may find a few that observe the second, Save all you can. But how many have you found, that observe the third rule, Give all you can? Have you reason to believe, that five hundred of these are to be found among fifty thousand Methodists? And, yet, nothing can be more plain, than that all who observe the two first rules, without the third, will be twofold more the children of hell than ever they were before.

“O that God would enable me once more, before I go hence and am no more seen, to lift up my voice like a trumpet to those who gain and save all they can, but do not give all they can! Ye are the men, some of the chief men, who continually grieve the Holy Spirit of God, and, in a great measure, stop His gracious influence from descending on our assemblies. Many of your brethren, beloved of God, have not food to eat; they have not raiment to put on; they have not a place where to lay their head. And why are they thus distressed? Because you impiously, unjustly, and cruelly detain from them what your Master and theirs lodges in your hands, on purpose to supply their wants. In the name of God, what are you doing? Do you neither fear God, nor regard man? Why do you not deal your bread to the hungry? And cover the naked with a garment? Have you laid out, in your own costly apparel, what would have answered both these intentions? Did God command you so to do? Does He commend you for so doing? Did He entrust you with His,—not your,—goods for this end? And does He now say, ‘Servant of God, well done’? You well know He does not. This idle expense has no approbation, either from God or your own conscience. But, you say, ‘You can afford it!’ O be ashamed to take such miserable nonsense into your mouths. Never more utter such stupid cant, such palpable absurdity! Can any steward afford to be an arrant knave? to waste his lord’s goods? Can any servant afford to lay out his master’s money, any otherwise than his master appoints him? So far from it, that whoever does this ought to be excluded from a Christian society.

“I am distressed. I know not what to do. I see what I might have done once. I might have said peremptorily and expressly, ‘Here I am: I and my Bible. I will not, I dare not, vary from this book, either in great things or small. I have no power to dispense with one jot or tittle of what is contained therein. I am determined to be a Bible Christian, not almost but altogether. Who will meet me on this ground? Join me on this, or not at all.’ With regard to dress in particular, I might have been as firm, (and I now see it would have been far better,) as either the people called quakers, or the Moravian brethren. I might have said, ‘This is our manner of dress, which we know is both scriptural and rational. If you join with us, you are to dress as we do: but you need not join us unless you please.’ But alas! the time is now past. And what I can do now, I cannot tell. The Methodists grow more and more self indulgent, because they grow rich. Although many of them are still deplorably poor (Tell it not in Gath; publish it not in the streets of Askelon!), yet many others, in the space of twenty, thirty, or forty years, are twenty, thirty, yea, a hundred times richer than they were when they first entered the society. And it is an observation which admits of few exceptions, that nine in ten of these decreased in grace, in the same proportion as they increased in wealth. Indeed, according to the natural tendency of riches, we cannot expect it to be otherwise.

“But how astonishing a thing is this! Does it not seem (and yet this cannot be!) that true scriptural Christianity has a tendency, in process of time, to undermine and destroy itself? For, wherever it spreads, it must cause diligence and frugality, which, in the natural course of things, beget riches. And riches naturally beget pride, love of the world, and every temper that is destructive to Christianity. Now, if there be no way to prevent this, Christianity is inconsistent with itself, and, of consequence, cannot stand, cannot long continue among any people; since, wherever it generally prevails, it saps its own foundation.

“But, allowing that diligence and frugality must produce riches, is there no means to hinder riches destroying the religion of those that possess them? I can see only one possible way; find out another who can. Do you gain all you can, and save all you can? Then you must, in the nature of things, grow rich. Then if you have any desire to escape the damnation of hell, give all you can; otherwise I can have no more hope of your salvation, than for that of Judas Iscariot.

“I call God to record upon my soul, that I advise no more than I practise. I do, blessed be God, gain, and save, and give all I can. And so, I trust in God, I shall do, while the breath of God is in my nostrils. But what then? I count all things but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Jesus, my Lord! Still

To the same effect is Wesley’s searching and terrible sermon, on the Rich Fool, written at Balham, February 19, 1790; and another written at Bristol, September 21, 1790, on the text, “If riches increase, set not thine heart upon them.” In the latter sermon, he writes:

“By whatsoever means thy riches increase, whether with or without labour; whether by trade, legacies, or any other way, unless thy charities increase in the same proportion,—unless thou givest a full tenth of thy substance, of thy fixed and occasional income, thou dost undoubtedly set thy heart upon thy gold, and it will eat thy flesh as fire.

“But O! who can convince a rich man, that he sets his heart upon riches? For considerably above half a century, I have spoken on this head, with all the plainness that was in my power. But with how little effect? I doubt whether I have, in all that time, convinced fifty misers of covetousness.

“I have a message from God unto thee, O rich man, whether thou wilt hear, or whether thou wilt forbear. Riches have increased with thee; at the peril of thy soul, set not thine heart upon them. Be thankful to Him that gave thee such a talent, so much power of doing good. Yet dare not to rejoice over them, but with fear and trembling.

“Let us descend to particulars; and see that each of you deal faithfully with his own soul. If any of you have now twice, thrice, or four times as much substance as when you first saw my face, faithfully examine yourselves, and see if you do not set your hearts, if not directly on riches themselves, yet, on some of the things that are purchaseable thereby, which comes to the same thing. Do you not eat more plentifully or more delicately than you did ten or twenty years ago? Do not you use more drink, or drink of a more costly kind, than you did then? Do you sleep on as hard a bed as you did once, suppose your health will bear it? Do you fast as often now you are rich, as you did when you were poor? Ought you not in all reason to do this, rather more often than more seldom? I am afraid, your own heart condemns you. You are not clear in this matter.

“Do not some of you seek no small part of happiness in that trifle of trifles, dress? Do not you bestow more money, or, which is the same, more time and pains upon it, than you did once? I doubt this is not done to please God. Then it pleases the devil. If you laid aside your needless ornaments, some years since, ruffles, necklaces, spider caps, ugly, unbecoming bonnets, costly linen, expensive laces, have you not, in defiance of religion and reason, taken to them again?

“After having served you between sixty and seventy years, with dim eyes, shaking hands, and tottering feet, I give you one more advice before I sink into the dust. Mark those words of St. Paul, Those that desire, or endeavour, to be rich, that moment, fall into temptation; yea, a deep gulf of temptation, out of which nothing less than Almighty power can deliver them. Permit me to come a little closer still: perhaps I may not trouble you any more on this head. I am pained for you that are rich in this world. Do you give all you can? You who receive £500 a year, and spend only £200, do you give £300 back to God? If not, you certainly rob God of that £300. ‘Nay, may I not do what I will with my own?’ Here lies the ground of your mistake. It is not your own. It cannot be, unless you are Lord of heaven and earth. ‘However, I must provide for my children.’ Certainly. But how? By making them rich? When you will probably make them heathens, as some of you have done already. Leave them enough to live on, not in idleness and luxury, but by honest industry. And if you have not children, upon what scriptural or rational principle can you leave a groat behind you, more than will bury you? I pray consider: What are you the better for what you leave behind you? What does it signify, whether you leave behind you ten thousand pounds, or ten thousand shoes and boots? Oh, leave nothing behind you! Send all you have before you into a better world! Lend it, lend it all unto the Lord, and it shall be paid you again! Is there any danger that His truth should fail? It is fixed as the pillars of heaven. Haste, haste, my brethren, haste! lest you be called away, before you have settled what you have, on this security!”⁠

To say the least, this was plain speaking, such as is seldom heard at present; the following, in the sermon on Matthew vi. 22, 23, written at Bristol, September 25, 1789, is terrific.

“How great is the darkness of that execrable wretch (I can give him no better title, be he rich or poor), who will sell his own child to the devil! who will barter her own eternal happiness, for any quantity of gold or silver! What a monster would any man be accounted, who devoured the flesh of his own offspring! And is he not as great a monster, who, by his own act and deed, gives her to be devoured by that roaring lion? As he certainly does (so far as is in his power), who marries her to an ungodly man. ‘But he is rich; he has £10,000!’ What if it were £100,000? The more the worse; the less probability will she have of escaping the damnation of hell. With what face wilt thou look upon her, when she tells thee in the realms below, ‘Thou hast plunged me into this place of torment! Hadst thou given me to a good man, however poor, I might now have been in Abraham’s bosom!’

“Are any of you, that are called Methodists, seeking to marry your children well (as the cant phrase is), that is, to sell them to some purchaser, that has much money, but little or no religion? Have ye profited no more by all ye have heard? Man, woman, think what you are about. Dare you also sell your child to the devil? You undoubtedly do this (as far as in you lies), when you marry a son or a daughter to a child of the devil, though it be one that wallows in gold and silver. O take warning in time! Beware of the gilded bait! Death and hell are hid beneath. Prefer grace before gold and precious stones; glory in heaven, to riches on earth! If you do not, you are worse than the very Canaanites. They only made their children pass through the fire to Moloch. You make yours pass into the fire that never shall be quenched, and to stay in it for ever. O how great is the darkness that causes you, after you have done this, to wipe your mouth and say, you have done no evil!

“Upwards of fifty years, I have ministered unto you. I have been your servant for Christ’s sake. During this time, I have given you many solemn warnings on this head. I now give you one more, perhaps the last. Dare any of you, in choosing your calling or situation, eye the things on earth, rather than the things above? In choosing a profession or a companion of life for your child, do you look at earth or heaven? And can you deliberately prefer, either for yourself or your offspring, a child of the devil with money, to a child of God without it? Repent, repent of your vile earthly mindedness! Renounce the title of Christians; or prefer, both in your own case and the case of your children, grace to money, and heaven to earth. For the time to come, at least, let your eye be single, that your whole body may be full of light!”

These were Wesley’s last words to the Methodists. The extracts are long; but, in this money making, mammon worshipping, intensely worldly age, they may be useful.

The other sermons, published in the last year of Wesley’s life, and in the year subsequent to his death, are well worthy of the reader’s notice. That on “Knowing Christ after the flesh” is perhaps the only one, in the English language, on such a subject. That on the text, “There is one God,” is characteristically thoughtful, keen, logical, and evangelical. That on “Walking by Faith,” terse, vigorous, earnest, practical, and terribly faithful. That on “The Wedding Garment,” an excellent exposition of an often ill used text. That on “The Deceitfulness of the Human Heart” is one which none but a man like Wesley could have preached. That on “Atheism,” ingenious, searching, and powerful. That on “The Treasure in Earthen Vessels,” simple and beautiful. While that on “Life like a Dream” was being printed on the very day when Wesley’s corpse lay in the chapel in City Road; and that on “Faith, the evidence of things not seen,” was the last he ever wrote, and was finished only six weeks previous to his death.

Both the last mentioned deserve quoting. They are the profoundly interesting musings of an old man, conscious that he must soon enter the spiritual and unseen world. Imagining a disembodied soul before him, he thus soliloquises.

“Now that your eyes are open, see how inexpressibly different are all the things that are now around you! What a difference do you perceive in yourself! Where is your body? Your house of clay? Where are your limbs? your hands, your feet, your head? There they lie; cold, insensible! What a change is in the immortal spirit! You see everything around you: but how? Not with eyes of flesh and blood! You hear; but not by a stream of undulating air, striking on an extended membrane. You feel; but in how wonderful a manner! You have no nerves to convey the ethereal fire to the common sensory; rather are you not now all eye, all ear, all feeling, all perception?”

Again, in his last, the sermon on faith:

“How will this material universe appear to a disembodied spirit? Who can tell whether any of these objects, that now surround us, will appear the same as they do now? What astonishing scenes will then discover themselves to our newly opening senses! Probably fields of ether, not only tenfold, but ten thousand fold, ‘the length of this terrene.’ And with what variety of furniture, animate and inanimate! How many orders of beings, not discovered by organs of flesh and blood! Perhaps ‘thrones, dominions, principalities, and, powers!’ And shall we not then, as far as angels’ ken, survey the bounds of creation, and see every place where the Almighty

Yea, shall we not be able to move, quick as thought, through the wide realms of uncreated night? Above all, the moment we step into eternity, shall we not feel ourselves swallowed up of Him, who is in this and every place, who filleth heaven and earth? It is only the veil of flesh and blood which now hinders us from perceiving, that the great Creator cannot but fill the whole immensity of space; He is every moment above us, beneath us, and on every side. Indeed, in this dark abode, this land of shadows, this region of sin and death, the thick cloud, which is interposed between, conceals Him from our sight. But then the veil will disappear, and He will appear in unclouded majesty, God over all, blessed for ever!”

The blessed old man already had glimpses of the shining ones, and of the gates of that celestial city, into which, six weeks after these words were written, he triumphantly entered.

FOOTNOTES:

Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 380.

Methodist Magazine, 1830, p. 251.

Dunn’s Life of Clarke, p. 72.

Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 105.

Pawson’s manuscripts.

Moore’s sermon.

Methodist Magazine, 1832, p. 594.

Benson’s Life, by Macdonald, p. 209.

Dunn’s Life of Clarke, pp. 72, 73.

Methodist Magazine, 1845, p. 119.

Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 113.

“Methodism in Preston,” p. 44.

Cutler’s Life, p. 5.

Methodist Magazine, 1792, p. 66.

“Methodism in Halifax,” p. 181.

See of this volume.

Methodist Magazine, 1845, p. 121.

Methodist Magazine, 1795, p. 423.

Moore’s Life, p. 89.

Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 94.

Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 105.

Kilham’s Life, by Blackwell, p. 114.

Methodist Magazine, 1836, p. 494.

Black’s Memoirs, p. 265.

Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 384.

Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 139.

Dunn’s Life of Clarke, p. 73.

Ought it not to be sixty-eight.

An error occurred in the first edition of this volume, on page 224. It was there stated, that Wesley received £60 a year; it ought to have been £30. According to the old circuit book, at City Road, it was the custom to pay him £15 in the first quarter of each year, and £15 in the last.

Now his steward.

The sentence is unfinished.

Samuel Bradburn remarks: “I know that, from the conference of 1780 to the conference of 1781, he gave away, in private charities, above £1400. He told me himself, in 1787, that he never gave away, out of his own pocket, less than £1000 a year.” Bradburn adds: “He never relieved poor people in the street, but he either took off, or removed, his hat to them, when they thanked him.”

Methodist Magazine, 1825, p. 25.

Ibid. 1828, p. 741; and Christian Miscellany, 1847, p. 173.

Methodist Magazine, 1792, p. 288.

Ibid. 1856, p. 234.

Ibid. 1845, p. 123.

Clarke’s Life, vol. i., p. 277.

Methodist Magazine, 1847, p. 211.

Methodist Magazine, 1837, p. 11.

The assistant in Chatham circuit.

The wife of Charles Boone, the assistant in Canterbury circuit.

Local Preachers’ Magazine, 1851, p. 75.

Methodist Magazine, 1847, p. 656.

Wesleyan Times, June 11, 1866.

Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 98.

Wesleyan Times, June 11, 1866.

Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 8.

This was done with the approbation of the London stewards, who paid £1 19s. for the carriages and expenses. (City Road society book.)

Life of James Rogers, p. 44.

Life of James Rogers, p. 44.

Youth’s Instructor, 1833, p. 330.

Methodist Magazine, 1841, p. 1.

Ibid.

“Diary, Reminiscences, and Correspondence of Henry Crabb Robinson,” vol. i., p. 20.

Crabbe’s Life.

Methodist Magazine, 1856, p. 203.

Reynolds’ “Anecdotes of Wesley,” p. 39.

Methodist Magazine, 1846, p. 1189.

Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 113.

Merely in the circuits above mentioned (a fraction of the Dales circuit) there are, at present, 7819 members. (See Minutes of Conference, 1870.)

Circuit manuscript books.

Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 109.

Sigston’s Life of Bramwell.

Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 99.

Manuscript letter, kindly lent by Charles Reed, Esq., M.P.

Methodist Magazine, 1790, pp. 348, 400, etc.

Methodist Magazine, 1792, p. 341, etc.

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