Digitized by tlie Internet Arcliive in 2014 Iittps://arcliive.org/details/lifeofwesleyrise02sout_0 THE LIFE OF ¥ESLEY; RISE AND PROGRESS OF METHODISM. ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.. LLD. WITH NOTES BY THE LATE SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, ESQ., AND REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF JOHN WESLEY, BY THE LATE ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ. EDITED BY THE REV. CHARLES CUTHBERT SOUTHEY, M.A., CURATE OF COCKEBMOUTH. Secontr American Strttfon, WITH NOTES, ETC., BY THE REV. DANIEL CURRY, A.M. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 82 CLIFF STREET. 184 7. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and forty-seven, by Harper & Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the Disti-ict Court of the Southern District of New York. CONTENTS. VOL. II. CHAP. XVIL John Oliver .... 7 Severity of his father . Falls into despiiir and throws hir self into the river Attempts suicide a second time . Runs away from home . Is permitted to follow his own course, and becomes a preacher . JO John Pawson .... 11 Opposed by his father . . .12 His vindication of himself . . 13 The father is converted . . .14 Pawson becomes melancholy . 15 He receives the assurance . . 16 Becomes a preacher ... 16 Alexander Mather . . .16 Joins the Rebels in 1745 . . 17 Is delivered to justice by his father 17 Goes to London, and marries there 17 Objects to working at his business as a baker on Sundays . . 18 Is admitted by Wesley to preach 19 Excessive exertions at this time . 20 Cruelly used by a mob . . 20 Account of the change wrought in him by religion . . . .21 Thomas Olivers .... 22 A reprobate boy and young man . 23 Affected by hearing Whitefield . 24 Rejected by one of Whitefield's preachers 24 Attends the Methodists . , 25 His exertions as a preacher . . 26 Suffers dreadfully from the small- pox 27 Pays all his debts .... 27 Attacked by the mob at Yarmouth 29 His deliberation concerning mar- 29 riage 29 Hia settlement at London . . 31 CHAP. XVIII. John Haime 32 His first stage of doubt and despair 33 In the act of committing blasphe- my he is frightened by a bustard 33 Enlists as a soldier .... 34 Is driven to despair by one of White- field's preachers ... 35 Charles Wesley comforts him . 35 Goes to the continent ... 35 Forms a society in the army in Flanders 36 Brings one of his comrades to a court-ioartial for blasphemy . 36 Is in the battle of Fontenoy . 3 His second state of despair . 3 He continues to preach, notwith- standing 3 Admitted as a traveling preacher 4 The disease leaves him when an old man 4 He dies in the fullness of hope . 4 Sampson Staniforth . . .4 His profligate life in the army . 4 Converted through the means of a comrade 4 Describes a vision in which he is persuaded that hia sins are for- given 4 Marries, and leaves the army . 4. Settles as a preacher . . . 4t His happy old age ... 4' George Story 4J His miscellaneous reading . . 4! His search after happiness . . 5( Becomes an unbeliever . . 5( Uneasiness of his mind . . . 5; Reasons with the Methodists . 5: Joins them from the workings of his own mind . . . .a Never becomes an enthusiast . 5i CHAP. XIX. Provision for the lay preachers . . 5* Allowance for their wives . . 5i Wesley establishes a school at Kings- wood 5( System of education there . . 5( Lady Maxwell 5i III management of the school . 5( Conference of the preachers . . 6( CHAP. XX. Wesley's doctrines and opinions . 65 The moral or Adamic law . . K Spiritual death, or the death of the soul a consequence of the Fall . 61 Hence the necessity of a new birth 6' Justification 61 Sanctification 6i Instantaneous deliverance from sin 6! Salvation by faith . . . . 7( What is faith 1 . , . . 7( Revelation, a perpetual thing . . 7] The inward evidence of Christianity 71 Faith, the free gift of God . . . 75 Witness of the Spirit . . . T. Assurance reasonably explained . 1' Perfection 7; Chain of beings . . . , , T 4 CONTENTS. Diabolical agency .... Day of Judgment The Milleniam .... Opinions concerning the brute crea tion Wesley's perfect charity CHAP. XXI. Discipline of the Methodists Wesley's supremacy Circuits Helpers, in what manner admitted The twelve rules of a Helper . Forbidden to engage in trade . Advice respecting their diet Frequent change of preachers Early Preaching Local Preachers .... Leaders Bands Select Bands .... Watch-nights Love-feasts Settlement of the Chapela Their structure and plan . Psalmody Pa«re 77 78 79 79 81 99 100 101 CHAP. xxn. Methodism in Wales . . . .104 Origin of the Jumpers . . .105 Methodism in Scotland . . , 105 Whitefield invited thither . . 105 Conduct of the Associate Presbytery of the Seceders tow ard him . .105 Attacked from ihe pulpit at Aberdeen 108 His success in Scotland . . . 108 ] Finds access to people of rank . 110 | Whitefield's talents not to be esti- mated by his printed works . . Ill His manner of preaching . . 113 Scene at Cambuslang . . . IIG Opposition to the Seceders . . 117 Their enmity to Wesley . . .118 Wesley complains of the indifference of the Scotch .... 120 His opinion of John Knox . . . 121 Arrested at Edinburgh . . . 121 Thomas Taylor's adventures at Glas- gow 15H CHAP. XXIH. Methodism in Ireland . . 125 Ferocious superstition mingled with Christianity 125 Attachment of the Irish to popery 126 The Reformation injurious to Ireland 126 Berkeley's hints for converting the people 127 Wesley's favorable opinion of the Irish 129 The Methodists are nick-named Swaddlers .... 129 Riots against them at Cork . . 130 Whitefield nearly murdered at Dublin 135 Animositv of the Catholics . . 136 Thomas Walsh .... 136 He renounces the Romish Church 137 Becomes a Methodist . . . 140 Preaches in Irish . . . .141 Sanctity of his character . . 143 Wesley becomes popular in Ireland 146 Cases of Methodism . . . 147 The plunder of a wreck restored . 149 CHAP. XXIV. Wesley in middle age . . . 152 Charles Wesley marries . . . 152 John takes counsel concerning mar- riage 152 Marries Mrs. Vizelle . . . .153 Her jealousy and insufferable conduct 154 Their separation . . . .157 Tendency of Methodism to schism . 158 Wesley favors the arguments of the separatists 159 But opposes the separation . 160 James Wheatley . . . .163 James Relly 164 Scheme of the Rellyan Universallsta 165 Antinomianism .... 166 Excesses at Everton .... 168 Wesley suspects their real character 174 Controversy with Bishop Lavington 178 With Warburton . . .179 George Bell 180 Maxfiiild separates from Wesley . 182 Prophecy of the end of the world . 184 Wesley's Primitive Physic . . 185 He recovers froin a consumption . 186 His epitaph, written by himself . 187 CHAP. XXV. Progress of Calvinistic Methodism . 188 Whitefield's courtship . . .188 His marriage 189 He preaches in Moorfields during the Whitsun holydays ... 190 First Methodist Tabernacle built . 193 Lady Huntingdon .... 193 Whitefield invited to preach at her house 194 She becomes the patroness of the Calvinistic Methodists . . 195 Founds a seniinary for them at Tre- vecca 196 Death of Whitefield . . .197 Minutes of Conference of 1771 . . 198 Lady Huntingdon offended at these Minutes 199 Mr. Fletcher 199 Mr. Shirley's Circular Letter concern- ing the Minutes .... 202 Meeting at the Conference, and appa- rent reconciliation .... 202 Controversy 203 Mr. Toplady 204 Fletcher's controversial writings . 207 Abuse of Wesley . . . .209 Wesley's sermon upon Free Grace 210 CHAP. XXVI. Wesley attempts to form a union of clergymen 218 Rev. VVilliam Grimshaw . . 219 Dr. Coke 222 Tendency to schism , . , 224 Erasmus the Greek Bishop . . 225 Baptism by immersion . . . 227 CONTENTS. 6 Page Wesley's manner of dealing with crazy people .... 227 Coses of infidelity .... 2*28 His own stasje of doubt . . . 229 He encourages a certain kind of in- sanity 229 Is easily duped .... 2^10 His excessive credulity . . . 231 He publishes the Arniinian Magazine 232 CHAP, XXVII. Methodism in America . . . 234 Society formed at New York by Philip Embury and Captain Webb . 235 Mr. Wesley sends preachers . . 23(i Their progress interrupted by the war 237 Wesley's " Calm Address" . . 237 Attacked by Caleb Evans . . 239 Defended by Mr. Fletcher . . .239 Wesley's Observations on Liberty, in reply to Dr. Price . . .242 He instructs his preachers in America to refrain from politics . . . 244 The English preachers obliged to fly 245 The sectarian clergy refuse to admin- ister the ordinances to the Method- ists 245 Impossibility of obtaining episcopal ordination in America . . 246 The American Methodists ordain for themselves 247 Asbnry sets this aside, and refers the atfair to Mr. Wesley . . . 247 Wesley resolves to ordain priests for America, and consecrates Dr. Coke as a bishop 248 His letters of ordination . . . 249 Dr. Coke sails for New York . . 251 Meets Asbury 252 Conference at Baltimore . . . 252 Scheme of the Methodist Church in America 253 Their address to Washington . . 2.54 Foundation of Cokesbury College . 255 Discipline of the College . . .256 Popularity of Dr. Coke . . .257 He makes himself obnoxious by preaching against slavery . . 258 Forest-preaching .... 259 Riotous devotion at their meetings . 260 Benjamin Abbott . . . .261 Rule respecting spirituous liquors . 264 Odd places in which Dr. Coke preach- ed 265 He complains of the location of the preachers 266 Rapid increase of the Methodists . 266 CHAP. XXVIII. Methodism in the West Indies . 268 Mr. Gilbert forms a society in Antigua 268 John Baxter 269 History of an Irish family . . . 270 Coke is driven to the West Indies 270 He is well received at Antigua . . 271 Visits the neighboring islands . 272 His second voyage to the West Indies 273 Lands in Barbadoes . . . 274 Methodism proscribed in St. Eustatius 274 Rash conduct of Dr. Coke . . 275 He is hospitably entertained in Ja- maica 277 Begs money for the West Indian Mis sions 277 Methodists become unpopular in the Islands 278 Effects of enthusiasm . . . 279 Riots 281 Numbers at the time of Wesley's death ... . . 283 CHAP. XXIX. Settlement of the Conference . 284 Offense given by the Deed of Decla- ration . . . . , . 286 Easy terms of admission . . 287 Dress 289 Amusements . . . . . 292 Laughter 293 Kingswood School .... 295 Yearly covenant .... 297 Alarming Sermons .... 298 Effects of Methodism upon the edu- cated classes 304 Riches 308 Little real reformation in the great body 310 Moral Miracles .... 313 Prisons 315 Effect of Methodism upon the Clergy 316 Political effects 317 Wesley ordains preachers for Scot- land 317 Injudicious conduct of some magis- trates in Lincolnshire . . . 318 Wesley's letter to the bishop . 318 CHAP. XXX. Wesley in old age .... 320 His excellent health and spirits . 320 Cured of a hydrocele .... 321 Removes from the Foundry to the City-Road 321 Lay pre.nchers jealous of Charles . 322 Musical talents of Charles's sons . 323 One of them becomes a Papist . . 324 Wesley's letter upon this subject . 324 His controversy with the Roman Catholics 325 Account of his health in his 72d year 325 He outlives all his tirst disciples . 326 Death of Mr. Fletcher . . .327 Wesley's extraordinary health in old age 331 He begins to feel decay in his 84th year 332 Death of Charles Wesley . . .333 Wesley closes his cash-accounts . 334 His last letters to America . . 334 His death 3.35 Lies in state in the Chapel . . 335 State of the Connection at his death 336 Conclusion 336 Remarks on the life and chahac- TER OK John Wesley. By the late Alexander Knox, Esq. . 338 6 CONTENTS. NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. Thomas Olivers 411 Anecdotes of the bustard . . 412 Toplady's illustration of the renewal of the image of God in the heart of ^ man 413 The New Birth . . . .413 ^ He entangled himself in contradictions 416 Instantaneous conversion . . 417 Salvation not to be sought by works 418 Faith 418 Assurance 418 Perfection 419 Ministry of Angels .... 420 Agency of evil spirits . . . 421 Immortality of animals . . . 422 Itinerancy 422 The select bands .... 424 Psalmody 425 Service of the Methodists . . . 427 Strong feelings expressed with levity 428 Methodism in Scotland . . '. 428 Ireland neglected at the Reformation 429 Wesley offers to raise men for govern- ment during the American war . 430 Wesley's separation from his wife [Wesley's opposition to lay adminis tering] The Burnham Society . Device upon Whitefield's seal . Whitefield's body .... Conference with Mr. Shirley . Berridge The Serpent and the Fox . Calvinism .... Mr. Fletcher's Illustrations of Calvin Paga 430 430 433 434 434 435 436 436 438 438 Arminianism described by the Cal- vinists 442 Young Grimshaw .... 443 The yearly covenant . . . 443 The value of a good conscience . 444 Wesley's doctrine concerning riches 445 [Wesley perceived and acknowledged " how little real reformation had been effected] 446 Mr. Wesley's epitaphs . . . 449 J. Collet's forgeries .... 450 Additional Notes concerning Mr. Wesley's family .... 451 THE LIFE OF WESLEY. CHAPTER XVII. JOHN OLIVER. JOHN PAWSON. ALEXANDER MATHER. THOMAS OLIVERS. John Oliver, the son of a tradesman at Stockport, in Cheshire, received the rudiments of a liberal education at the gi'ammar-school in that town ; but at the age of thir- teen, in consequence of reduced circumstances, was taken into his father's shop. When he was about fifteen, the Methodists came to Stockport : he partook the general prejudice against them, and calling upon one with whom he chanced to be acquainted, took upon himself to con- vince him that he was of a bad religion, which was hostile to the Church. The Methodist, in reply, easily convinced him that he had no religion at all. His pride was mortified at this defeat, and he went near his acquaintance no more ; but the boy was touched at heart also : he left off his idle and criminal diversions (of which cock-fighting was one), read, prayed, fasted, regularly attended church, and re- peated the prayers and collects every day. This con- tinued some months, without any apparent evil ; but having, at his father's instance, spent a Sabbath evening at an inn, with some young comrades from Manchester, and forgotten all his good resolutions while he was in their company, he came home at night in an agony of mind. He did not dare to pray : his conscience stared him in the face ; and he became melancholy. The cause of this distemper was more obvious than the cure ; and when he was invited one evening to attend a meeting, the 8 JOHN OLIVER. fatber declared he would knock his brains out if he went^ though he should be hanged for it. John Oliver knew how little was meant by this threat, and stole away to the sermon. He " drank it in with all his heart;" and having afterward been informed, by a female disciple, of the manner of her conversion, he was " all in a flame to know these things for himself" So he hastened home, fell to prayer, fancied twice that he heard a voice distinctly say- ing his sins were forgiven him, and felt, in that instant, that all his load was gone, and that an inexpressible change had been wrought. " I loved God," he says : " I loved all man- kind. I could not tell whether I was in the body or out of it. Prayer was turned into wonder, love, and praise." In this state of exaltation he joined the society. Mr. Oliver was a man of violent temper : he loved his son dearly ; and thinking that a boy of sixteen was not emancipated from the obligation of filial obedience, his anger at the course which John persisted in pursuing, was strong in proportion to the strength of his affection. He sent to all the Methodists in the town, threatening what he would do if any of them dared receive him into their houses. He tried severity, by the advice of stupid men ; and broke not only sticks but chairs upon him, in his passion. Perceiving that these brutal means were in- effectual, and perhaps inwardly ashamed of them, he re- proached his undutiful child with breaking his father's heart, and bringing down his gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. The distress of the father, and the stubborn resolution of the son, were now matter of public talk in Stockport. Several clergymen endeavored to convince the lad of his misconduct. One of them, who had been his schoolmaster, called him his child, prayed for him, wept over him, and conjured him, as he loved his own soul, not to go near those people any more. Tlie father, in presence of this clergyman, told his son, that he might attend the church prayers every day, and should have every indulgence which he could ask, provided he would come no more near those " damned villains," as he called the objects of his violent, but not unreasonable prejudice. John's reply was, that he would do every thing in his power to satisfy him as a child to a parent, but that this was a matter of conscience which he could not give up. Mr. Oliver had good cause for apprehending the worst consequences from that spirit of fanaticism with which the JOHN OLIVER. 9 boy was so thoroughly possessed. The disease was ad- vancing rapidly toward a crisis. At this time, his heart was "kept in peace and love all the day long;" and when his band-fellows spoke of the wickedness which they felt in themselves, he wondered at them, and could discover none in himself. It was not long before he made the discovery. " Having," he says, " given way to temp- tation, and grieved the Holy Spirit of God," all his com- forts were withdrawn in a moment : ** my soul was all over darkness : I could no longer see him that is in- visible : I could not feel his influence on my heart : I sought him, but could not find him. I endeavored to pray, but the heavens seemed like brass : at the same time such a weight came upon me, as if I was instantly to be pressed to death. I sunk into black despair : I found no gleam of light, no trace of hope, no token of any kind for good. The devil improved this hour of dark- ness, telling me I was sure to be damned, for I was for- saken of God. Sleep departed from me, and I scarce ate any thing, till I was reduced to a mere skeleton." One morning, being no longer able to endure this misery, and resolving to put an end to his wretched life, he rose very early, and threw himself into the river, in deep water. How he was taken out, and conveyed to the house of a Methodist, he says, is what he never could tell ; unless God sent one of his ministering spirits to help in the time of need." A humbler Christian would have been satisfied with gratefully acknowledging the providence of God : he, however, flattered himself with the supposition of a miracle ; and Wesley, many years afterward, published the account without reprehension or comment. That evening, there was preaching and praying in the house ; but, in the morning, " Satan came upon him like thunder," telling him he was a self-murderer ; and he attempted to strangle himself with a handkerchief. It was now thought proper to send for Mr. Oliver, who had been almost dis- tracted all this while, fearing what might so probably have happened to the poor bewildered boy. He took him home, promising to use no severity ; for John was afraid to go. A physician was called in, whom Oliver calls an utter stranger to all religion. He bled him largely, physicked him well, and blistered him on the head, back, and feet. It was very possible that the bodily disease required some active treatment : the leaven of the mind was not thus to A* 10 JOHN OLIVER. be worked off. The first time that he was permitted to go out, one of his Methodist friends advised him to elope, seeing that he would not be permitted to serve God at home. He went to Manchester: his mother followed him, and found means to bring him back by force : the father then gave up the contest in despair, and John pursued his own course without further opposition. Now it was, he says, that his strength came again : his light, his life, his God. He began to exhort : soon afterward he fancied himself called to some more public work ; and, having passed through the previous stages, was accepted by Wesley upon trial as a traveling preacher. At the year's end he would have gone home, from humility, not from any weariness of his vocation. Wesley's reply was, You have set your hand to the gospel-plough, therefore never look back! I would have you come up to London this winter. Here is every thing to make the man of God perfect." He accepted the invitation ; and had been thirty years an active and successful preacher, when his life and portrait were exhibited in the Arminian Maga- zine.* Oliver describes himself as having always been of a fearful temper — a temper which is often connected with rashness. During part of his life, he was afflicted with what he calls a scrofulous disorder. A practitioner in Essex, to whom he applied for relief, and who began his * [There is, perhaps, no other case, even in this strange book, that so folly demonstrates the author's complete incapacity for the work he had undertaken, as this account of John Oliver. A youth of fifteen, •wha^ by following the examples about him, was growing up in vice and irreligion, is, through the influence of some Methodists, brought to see his lost condition, and to seek for pardon and salvation in the blood of Christ; the reformation of the lad arouses the fiendish wrath of his father, who attempts, by brutal violence, to beat him back to his former vicious manner of life; but, by an almost miracle of grace, he holds out till the storm wastes itself by its own N-iolence, lives an up- right and exemplary Christian, and a highly useful minister of Christ, and, at last, having turned many to righteousness, dies in the triumphs of faith. The case (which differs only in its accidents from thousands of others) is well calculated to awaken sympathy and commiseration in every heart not calloused by a false philosophy ; and Mr. Southey, in gi"ving the above caricatm'e, and heartlessly deriding the strugglings of a wounded spirit, betrays the hollowness of his own heart. That Robert Southey's was a soul susceptible of very lively and delicate impressions of the beautiful and the grand is granted; but a highly cultivated taste, and great exuberance of sentiment are quite com- patible with moral obtuseness and corruption of the heart. — Am. Ed.'] JOHN PAWSON. 11 practice by prayer, told him his whole mass of blood was corrupted, and advised him to a milk diet: he took daily a quart of milk, with white bread, and two table-spoonfuls of honey. In six months his whole habit of body was changed, and no symptom of the disorder ever appeared afterward. John Pawson was the son of a respectable farmer, who cultivated his own estate, at Thorner, in Yorkshire. His parents were of the Church of England, and gave him a good education according to their means ; and though, he says, they were strangers to the life and power of religion, brought him up in the fear of God. The father followed also the trade of a builder, and this son was bred to the same business. The youth knowing the Methodists only by common report, supposed them to be a foolish and wicked people ; till happening to hear a person give an account of his wife, who was a Methodist, he con- ceived a better opinion of them, and felt a wish to hear them. Accordingly he went one evening to their place of meeting; but, when he came to the door, he was ashamed to go in, and so walked round the house, and returned home. This was in his eighteenth year. He was now employed at Hare wood, and fell into profligate company, who, though they did not succeed in corrupting him, made him dislike Methodism more than ever. Two sermons, which had been preached at the parish church in Leeds by a methodistical clergyman, were lent to his father when Pawson was about twenty. These fell into his hands, and convinced him that justification by faith was necessary to salvation. He went now to Otley, to hear a Methodist preach ; and from that hour his course of life was determined. The serious, devout behavior of the people, he says, struck him with a kind of religious awe : the singing greatly delighted him ; and the sermon was, to use his own phraseology, "much blest to his soul." He was permitted to stay, and be present at the society meeting, and ** had cause to bless God for it." There was nothing wavering in this man's character : he had been morally and religiously brought up ; his dis- position, from the beginning, was good, and his devotional feelings strong. But his relations were exceedingly of- fended when he declared himself a Methodist. An uncle, who had promised to be his friend, resolved that he would leave him nothing in his will, and kept the resolution. 12 JOHN PAWSON. His parents, and his brother and sisters, supposed him to be totally ruined. Sometimes his father threatened to turn him out of doors, and utterly disown him : but John was his eldest son : he dearly loved him ; and this fault, bitterly as he regretted and resented it, was not of a nature to destroy his natural affection. He tried persuasion, as well as threats ; beseeching him not to run willfully after his own ruin; and his mother frequently wept much on his account. The threat of disinheriting him gave him no trouble ; but the danger which he believed their souls were in distressed him sorely. " I did not regard what I suffered," says he, "so my parents might be brought out of their Egyptian darkness." • He bought books, and laid them in his father's way, and it was a hopeful symptom that the father read them, although it seemed to no good pur- pose. The seed, however, had struck root in the family : his brother and some of his sisters were " awakened." The father became more severe with John, as the prime cause of all this mischief : then again he tried mild means, and told him to buy what books he pleased, but besought him not to go to the preachings : he might learn more by reading Mr. Wesley's writings than by heaiing the lay preachers ; and the Methodists, he said, were so univer- sally hated, that it would ruin his character to go among them. It was " hard work" to withstand the entreaties of a good father ; and it was not less hard to refrain from what he verily believed essential to his salvation. There was preaching one Sunday near the house, and, in obedi- ence, he kept away ; but when it was over, and he saw the people returning home, full of the consolation which they had received, his grief became too strong for him ; he went into the garden, and wept bitterly ; and, as his emotions became more powerful, retired into a solitary place, and there, he says, bemoaned himself before the Lord, in such anguish, that he was scarcely able to look up. In this situation his father found him, and took him into the fields to see the grass and corn ; but the cheeiful images of nature produced no effect upon a mind thus agitated ; and the father was grievously troubled, believ- ing verily that his son would run distracted. They re- turned home in time to attend the Church service; and, in the evening, as was their custom, John read aloud from some religious book, choosing one to his purpose. Seeing that his father approved of what he read, he ventured to JOHN PAWSON. 13 speak to him in defense of his principles. The father grew angry, and spoke with bitterness. *' I find," said the old man, " thou art now entirely ruined. I have used every means I can think of, but all to no purpose. I re- joiced at thy birth, and I once thought thou wast as hope- ful a young man as any in this town ; but now I shall have no more comfort in thee so long as I live. Thy mother and 1 are grown old, and thou makest our lives quite miserable : thou wilt bring down our gray hairs with soiTow to the grave. Thou inteudest to make my house a preaching-house, when once my head is laid ; but it shall never be thine : no, I will leave all I have to the poor of the parish, before the Methodists shall have any thing to do with it." Pawson was exceedingly affected ; and the father seeing this, desired him to promise that he would hear their preaching no more. He replied, when he could speak for weeping, that if he could see a sufficient reason he would make that promise ; but not till then. " Well," replied the old man, " I see thou art quite stupid — I may as well say nothing: the Methodists are the most bewitching people that ever lived ; for, when once a per- son hears them, it is impossible to persuade him to return back again." Pawson retired from this conversation in great trouble, and was tempted to think that he was guilty of disobeying his parents ; but he satisfied himself that he must obey God rather than man. It was a gieat comfort to him that his brothers sympathized with him entirely : they both strove to oblige their parents as much as possible, and took es- pecial care that no business should be neglected for the preaching. This conduct had its effect. They used to pray together in their chamber. The mother, after often listening on the stairs, desired at last to join them ; and the father became, in like manner, a listener at first, and after- ward a partaker in these devotions. The minister of the parish now began to apprehend that he should lose the whole family : the way by which he attempted to retain them was neither wise nor charitable ; it was by reviling and calumniating the Methodists, and in this manner in- flaming the father's wrath against the son. This was Pawson's last trial : perceiving the effect which was thus produced, he wrote a letter to his father, in which, after stating his feelings concerning his own soul, he came to plain arguments, which could not but have their due 14 JOHN PAWSON. weight. " What worse am I, in any respect, since I heard the Methodists 1 Am I disobedient to you or my mother in any other thing ] Do I neglect any part of business ]" He asked him also why he condemned the preachers, whom he had never heard. ** If you will hear them only three times," said he, and then prove from the Scripture that they preach contrary thereunto, I will hear them no more." The old man accepted this proposal. T-he first sermon he liked tolerably well, the second not at all, and the third so much, that he went to hear a fourth, which pleased him better than all the rest. His own mind was now wholly unsettled : he retired one morning into the stable, where nobody might hear or see him, that he might pray without interruption to the Lord ; and here such a paroxysm came on, " that he roared for the very disquiet- ness of his soul." — " This," says Pawson, ** was a day of glad tidings to me. I now had liberty to cast in my lot with the people of God. My father invited the preachers to his house, and prevented m]/ turning it into a preaching- house (as he had formerly said), by doing it himself. From this time we had preachings in our own house, and all the family joined the Society." It might have been thought that the proselyte had now obtained his soul's desire ; but he had not attained to the new birth : his prayer was, that the Lord would take away his heart of stone, and give him a heart of flesh ; and, ere long, as he was " hearing the word," in a neighboring vil- lage, the crisis which he solicited came on. " In the be- ginning of the service," says he, " the power of God came mightily upon me and many others. All on a sudden my heart was like melting wax : I cried aloud with an exceed- ing bitter cry. The arrows of the Almighty stuck fast in my flesh, and the poison of them drank up my spirits; yet in the height of my distress I could bless the Lord, that he had granted me that which I had so long sought for." It was well that his father had been converted before he reached this stage, or he might with some reason have be- lieved that Methodism had made his son insane. He could take no delight in any thing ; his business became a burden to him ; he was quite confused ; so that any one, he says, who looked on him, might see in his countenance the dis- tress of his mind, for he was on the very brink of despair. One day he was utterly confounded by hearing that one of his acquaintance had received an assurance of salvation, JOHN PAWSON. 15 when he had only heard three sermons ; whereas he, who had long waited, was still without comfort. Public thanks were given for this new birth ; and Pawson went home from the meeting to give vent to his own grief. As he could not do this in his chamber without disturbing the family, he retired into the barn, where he might perform freely, and there began to pray, and weep, and roar aloud, for his distress was greater than he could well bear. Pres- ently he found that his brother was in another part of the barn, in as much distress as himself. Their cries brought in the father and mother, the eldest sister, and her husband, and all being in the same condition, they all lamented to- gether. ** I suppose," says Pawson, " if some of the good Christians of the age had seen or heard us, they would have concluded we were all quite beside ourselves." However, ** though the children were brought to the birth, there was not strength to bring forth." One Saturday evening, when " there was a mighty shaking among the dry bones," at the meeting, his father received the assurance, and the preacher gave thanks on his account ; but Pawson was so far from being able to rejoice with him, that he says, " his soul sunk as into the belly of hell." On the day following, the preach- er met the Society, " in order to wrestle with God in behalf of those who were in distress. Pawson went full of sorrow, *' panting after the Lord, as the hart after the water-brooks." When the prayer for those in distress was made, he placed himself upon his knees in the middle of the room, if possi- ble, in greater anguish of spirit than ever before. Present- ly a person, whom he knew, ** cried for mercy, as if he would rend the very heaven."* ** Quickly after, in the * What shall I say to these and other instances ? Disbelieve the nar- rators ? I can not — I dare not. I seem to be assured that I should quench the ray, and paralyze the factual nerve, by which I have hither- to been able to discriminate veracity from falsehood, and deceit from delusion. Is it then aught real, though subjectively real as the law of conscience ? When I find an instance recorded by a philosopher of him- self, he still continuing to be a philosopher — recorded by a man, who can give the distinctive marks by which he had satisfied himself that the experience was not explicable physiologically, nor psychologically, — I shall think it time to ask myself the question : till then, I find no more rational solution than that afforded by disorder of the nervous functions from mental causes, no physical or external disturbing forces being present, and no disease. In such cases we may, I should think, antici- pate certain sudden refluxes of healthful secretions, and internal actions of the organs : this, and that of a mind perhaps baffled and drawn back, till at length, either strengthened by accumulated sensation, or availing 16 ALEXANDER MATHER. twinkling of an eye," says Pawson, ** all my trouble was gone, ray guilt and condemnation were removed, and I was filled with joy unspeakable. I was brought out of darkness into marvelous light ; out of miserable bondage, into glorious liberty ; out of the most bitter distress, into unspeakable happiness. I had not the least doubt of my acceptance with God, but was fully assured that he was reconciled to me through the merits of his Son. I was fully satisfied that I was born of God : my justification was so clear to me, that I could neither doubt nor fear." The lot of the young man was now cast. He was shortly afterward desired to meet a class : it was a sore trial to him; but obedience was a duty, and he was "obliged to take up the cross." " From the first or second time I met it," he continues, " I continually walked in the light of God's countenance : I served him with an undivided heart. I had no distressing temptations, but had constant power over all sin, so that I lived as upon the borders of heaven." Henceforward his progress was regular. From reading the homilies, and explaining them as he went on, he began to expound the Bible, in his poor manner. The people thrust him into the pulpit. First he became a local preach- er, then an itinerant, and, finally, a leading personage of the conference, in which he continued a steady and useful mem- ber till his death. Alexander Mather was a man of cooler temperament and better disciplined mind than most of Wesley's coadju- tors. He was the son of a baker, at Brechin, in Scotland ; his parents were reputable and religious people ; they itself of a quieter moment or conspiring circumstances, it makes head again, and Bows in on the empty channel in a bore. And this of course ■would take its shape, and as it were articulate itself, or interpret itself, by the predominant thoughts, images, and aims of the individual ; even as life returns upon the drowned, and as moderate warmth has been known to intoxicate and produce all the thrilling, overwhelming syn- thesis of impatient appetite and intolerable fruition, that some constitu- tions have undergone from inhaling the nitrous oxyde. Add to this the important fact, that Christianity in its genuine doctrines contains so much of spiritual verities, that can only be spiritually discerned, but which will to such individuals seem akin to their recent exaltations, and therefore actually supply a link ; so that by these spiritual verities they become, without any sensible discontinuity, connected with the whole series of the duties, humanities, charities of religion : at verbum sat. In short, the man awakens so gradually, and opens his eyes by little and little to objects so similar to his dream, that the dream detaches itself as it were from sleep, and becomes the commencing portion of tlic new day- thoughts.— S. T. C. ALEXANDER MATHER. 17 kept him carefully from evil company, and brought him up in the fear of God : but the father was a rigid and severe man, and probably for this reason, while he was yet a mere boy (according to his own account not thirteen), he joined the rebels in 1745. Having escaped from Culloden and the pursuit, he found that his father's doors were closed against him on his return. By his mother's help, however, he was secreted among their relations for several months, till he thought the danger was over, and ventured a second time to present himself at home. The father, more per- haps from cunning than actual want of feeling, not only again refused him admittance, but went himself and gave information against him to the commanding officer, and the boy would have been sent to prison, if a gentleman of the town had not interfered, and obtained leave for him to lodge in his father's house. The next morning he passed through the form of an examination, and was discharged. From this time he worked at his father's business, till, in the nineteenth year of his age, he thought it advisable to see the world, and therefore traveled southward. The next year he reached London, and there engaged himself as a journeyman baker. Because he was, as he says, a foreigner, his first master was summoned to Guildhall, and compelled to dismiss him. This unjust law was not after- ward enforced against him, and he seems to have had no difficulty in obtaining employment. Before he had been many months in London, a young woman, who had been bred up with him in his father's house, sought him out : they had not met for many years, and this renewal of an old intimacy, in a strange land, soon ended in marriage. Mather had made a resolution that he would live wholly to God whenever he should marry. For a while he was too happy to remember this resolution ; he remembered it when his wife was afflicted with illness ; it then lay heavy on his mind that he had not performed his vow of praying with her, and yet some kind of false feeling prevented him from opening his heart to her. Day after day the sense of this secret sin increased upon him, till, after loss of ap- petite and of sleep, and tears by day and night, he " broke through," as he expresses it, and began the practice of praying with her, which, from that time, was never inter- rupted. Her education had been a religious one like his, and they did not depart from the way in which they v?ere trained up. 18 ALEXANDER MATHER. Though Mather had no domestic obstacles to overcome, and never passed through those struggles of mind which, in many of his colleagues, bordered so closely upon mad- ness, he was by no means in a sane state of devotion at this time.* It was not sufficient for him to pray by him- self every morning, and every afternoon with his wife ; he sometimes kneeled when he was going to bed, and contin- ued in that position till two o'clock, when he was called to his work. The master whom he now served was an at- tendant at the Foundry, but, like all others of the same trade, he was in the practice of what was called *' baking of pans" on a Sunday. Mather regarded this as a breach of the Sabbath ; it troubled him so that he could find no peace ; and his flesh, he says, consumed away, till the bones were ready to start through his skin. At length, unable to endure this state of mind, he gave his master warning. The master, finding by what motives he was in- fluenced, and that he had not provided himself with an- other place, was struck by his conscientious conduct : he went round to all the trade in the neighborhood, and pro- posed that they should enter into an agreement not to bake on Sundays. The majority agreed. He advertised for a meeting of master bakers upon the subject ; but nothing could be concluded. After all this, which Mather acknowl- edges was more than he could reasonably expect, he said to him, " I have done all I can, and now I hope you will be content." Mather sincerely thanked him for what he had done, but declared his intention of quitting him, as Boon as his master could suit himself with another man. But the master, it seems, took advice at the Foundry, and on the following Sunday stayed at home, to tell all his cus- tomers that he could bake no more on the Sabbath day. From this time both he and his wife were particulary kind to Mather. They introduced him to the Foundry, and he soon became a regular member of the Society. It was not long before he had strong impressions upon bis mind that he was called to preach. After fasting and praying upon this point, he communicated it to his band, and they set apart some days for the same exercises. This mode of proceeding was not likely to abate his desire; ♦ [Mr. Sontliey shoiild have remembered, when he brought this charge of insanity, that one whom he had learned (though late) to call *• Our Lord," on a certain occasion continued all night in prayer to God. —Am. Ed.'\ ALEXANDER MATHER. 10 and the band then advised him to speak to Mr. Wesley. Wesley replied, ** This is a common temptation among young men. Several have mentioned it to me ; but the next thing I hear of them is, that they are married, or are upon the point of it." " Sir," said Mather, " I am married already." Wesley then bade him not care for the tempta- tion, but seek God by fasting and prayer. He made answer that he had done this ; and Wesley recommended patience and perseverance in this course ; adding, that he doubted not but that God would soon make the way plain before him. Mather could not but understand this as an encouragement; he was the more encouraged, when Wesley shortly after- ward appointed him first to be leader of a band, and in a little time of a class. In both situations he acquitted himself to the satisfaction of others : his confidence in himself was, of course, increased, and he went once more to Mr. Wesley to represent his ardent aspirations. ** To be a Methodist preacher," said Wesley, " is not the way to ease, honor, pleasure, or profit. It is a life of much labor and reproach. They often fare hard — often are in want. They are liable to be stoned, beaten, and abused in various manners. Con- sider this before you engage in so uncomfortable a way of life." The other side of the picture would have been sufficiently tempting, if Mather had been influenced by worldly considerations : the danger was just enough to stimulate enthusiasm : the reproach of strangers would only heighten the estimation in which he would be held by believers : no way of life could be more uncomfortable than his own ; and what a preferment in the world for a journeyman baker ! The conversation ended, by allowing him to make a trial on the following morning. After a second essay, he received information nearly at ten at night, that he was to preach the next morning at five o'clock, at the Foundry. This was the critical trial. All the time he was making his dough he was engaged in meditation and prayer for assistance. The family were ,all in bed, and when he had done, he continued praying and reading the Bible, to find a text, till two o'clock. It was then time to call his fellow-servant, and they went to work together as usual till near four, preparing the bread for the oven. His comrade then retired to bed, and he to his prayers, till a quarter before five, when he went, in fear and trembling, to the meeting, still unprepared even with a text. He took up the hymn-book and gave 20 ALEXANDER MATHER. out the hymn, in a voice so faint, because of his timidity, that it could not be understood. The people, not hearing the verse, knew not what to sing : he was no singer him- self, otherwise he might have recovered this mishap by leading them ; so they were at a stand, and this increased his agitation so much that his joints shook. However, he recovered himself, and took the text upon which he opened. The matter after this was left to Mr. Wesley, to employ him as his business would permit, just when and where he pleased. When first he began to preach, there was a con- siderable natural defect in his delivery; and he spoke with such extreme quickness that very few could understand him : but he entirely overcame this. The account of the exertions in which this zealous laborer was now engaged may best be related in his own words. He says, " In a little time I was more employed than my strength would well allow. I had no time for preaching but what I took from my sleep ; so that I frequently had not eight hours' sleep in a week. This, with hard labor, constant abstemiousness, and frequent fasting, brought me so low, that, in a little more than two years, I was hardly able to follow my business. My master was often afraid I should kill myself; and perhaps his fear was not ground- less. I have frequently put off my shirts as wet with sweat as if they had been dipped in water. After hastening to finish my business abroad, I have come home all in a sweat in the evening, changed my clothes, and run to preach at one or another chapel ; then walked or ran back, changed my clothes and gone to work at ten ; wrought hard all night, and preached at five the next morning. I ran back to draw the bread at a quarter or half an hour past six, wrought hard in the bake-house till eight ; then hurried about with bread till the afternoon, and perhaps at night set off again." Had this mode of life continued long, Mather must have fallen a victim to his zeal. He was probably saved by being appointed a traveling preacher ; yet, at the very commencement of his itinerancy, his course had been nearly cut short. A mob attacked him at Boston ; and when, with great difficulty and danger, he reached his inn, bruised, bleeding, and covered with blood, the rabble beset the house, and the landlord attempted to turn him out, for fear they should pull it down. Mather, however, knew the laws, and was not wanting to himself. " Sir," he said, " I am in your house ; but, while I use it as an inn, it is ALEXANDER MATHER. 21 mine — turn me out at your peril." And he compelled him to apply to a magistrate for protection. It was moi e than twelve months before he recovered from the brutal treatment which he received on this occasion. The mob at Wolverhampton pulled down a preaching-house : an attorney had led them on, and made the first breach him- self. Mather gave him his choice of rebuilding it at his own expense, or being tried for his life : of course the house was rebuilt, and there were no further riots at Wol- verhampton. He was of a hardy constitution and strong mind, cool and courageous, zealous and disinterested, most tender-hearted and charitable, but possessing withal a large share of prudence, which enabled him to conduct the tem- poral affairs of the Connection with great ability. The account which, in his matured and sober mind, he gives of his experience, touching what Wesley calls the great salva- tion, bears with it fewer marks of enthusiasm, and more of meditation, than is usually found in such cases. " What I experienced in my own soul," he says, *'was an instantane- ous deliverance from all those wrong tempers and affections which I had long and sensibly groaned under; an entire disengagement from every creature, with an entire devoted- ness to God ; and from that moment I found an unspeak- able pleasure in doing the will of God in all things. I had also a power to do it, and the constant approbation both of my own conscience and of God. I had simplicity of heart, and a single eye to God at all times and in all places, with such a fervent zeal for the glory of God and the good of souls, as swallowed up every other care and consideration. Above all, I had uninterrupted communion with God, whether sleeping or waking." It is scarcely compatible with human weakness, that a state like this should be per- manent ; and Mather, in describing it, after an interval of more than twenty years, exclaims, " Oh that it were with me as when the candle of the Lord thus shone upon my head !" Yet he had not failed in his course ; and, after much reflection and the surer aid of prayer, had calmly satisfied his clear judgment, "that deliverance from sin does not imply deliverance from human infirmities ; and that it is not inconsistent with temptations of various kinds."* * Assuredly my judgment is strong against the use of the word, and the profession of the state, perfection; which word, in its English meaning, does not correspond to the Greek words, releiog rekeioTri^, of which it is pretended to be the translation : full growth, adult, are far 22 THOMAS OLIVERS. Thomas Olivers was born at Tregonan, a village in Mont- gomeryshire, in the year 1725. Being left an orphan in childhood, with some little property, he was placed under the care of the husband of his father's first cousin ; which remote relationship comes under the comprehensive term of a Welsh uncle. Mr. Tudor, as this person was called, was an eminent farmer, and did his duty by the boy ; giv- ing him not merely the common school education, but be- stowing more than common pains in imparting religious acquirements. He was taught to sing psalms, as well as repeat his catechism and his prayers, and to attend church twice on the Sabbath day. But the parish happened to be in a state of shocking immorality : there was one man, in particular, who studied the art of cursing, and would ex- emplify the richness of the Welsh language by compound- ing twenty or thirty words into one long and horrid blas- phemy. As this was greatly admired among his profligate companions, Olivers imitated it, and in time rivaled what he calls his infernal instructor. *' It is horrid to think," nearer ; and as the age of twenty-one, or twenty-five, neither precludes comparatively greater or less manhood, strength, and power in A and in B, nor yet an increase of growth, though not in stature, yet in breadth and muscular firmness, — but rather brings with it a lessening of some excellences (as agility, fervor, and the like), to make way for the growth of other powers and qualities, — so is it with the Christian Tc/Uior^f . It would be desirable to know what the Syro-Chaldaic word WEis, which our Lord used in the precept, " Be ye perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect," I can not doubt that it would be found to correspond to our English sense of perfect, not including the second- ary, yet the popular and ordinary, sense of Ti7.tioq among the Greeks. Likewise the very extensive and various application of the verb-substan- tive in the Semitic languages, justifies us in interpreting the text as the proposed ideal, the commended ultimate, yet ever present aim ; and the " Be ye," as = continue striving to be. There is no point at which you can arrive in this life, in which the command, " Soar upward still," ceases in validity or occasion. How much opposition — nay, how much spiritual pride and vanity — might Wesley have prevented by calling hia first class, mature believers, or adult Christians. — S. T. C. [Had Mr. Coleridge studied Wesley's writings, he would have known that he did, employ the very terms here recommended, and constantly explained the scriptural term " perfect," by them. It would have been more prudent, since it was determined to condemn Wesley, to have brought some charge against him less readily refilled than this ; though, so far as his name is concerned, he may as well be condemned on one charge as another, for his condemnation is settled in some minds before any charge is brought. This complaint against Wesley for not doing what he was very careful to do, reminds one of the charge made by the wolf against the lamb, of disturbing the waters in the stream above him. In both cases the vindication is alike easy but unavailing — Am, Ed.'] THOMAS OLIVERS. 23 says he, " how often I have cursed the wind and the weather ! the souls of cows and horses ! yea, the very heart's blood of stones, trees, gates, and doors !" The other parts of his conduct were in the same spirit; and he obtained the character of being the worst boy who had been known in that country for the last thirty years. When he was about three or four-and-twenty he left the country, not having half learned the business to which he had been apprenticed. The cause of his departure was the outcry raised against him for his conduct toward a far- mer's daughter :* he was the means, he says, of driving her almost to an untimely end. It was the sin which lay heav- iest on his mind, both before and after his conversion ; and which, as long as he lived, he remembered with peculiar shame and sorrow. He removed to Shrewsbury, and there, or in its neigh- borhood, continued a profligate course of life, till poverty, as well as conscience, stared him in the face. He said within himself, that he was living a most wretched life, and that the end must be damnation, unless he repented and forsook his sins. But how should he acquire strength for this ] For he had always gone to church, and he had often prayed and resolved against his evil practices, and yet his resolutions were weak as water. So he thought of ** trying what the sacrament would do ;" and borrowing, according- ly, the book called A Week's Preparation, he went regular- ly through it, and read daily upon his knees the meditations and prayers for the day. On the Sunday he went to the Lord's table, and spent the following week in going over the second part of the book, as devoutly as he had done the first. During this fortnight he ** kept tolerably clear of sin ;" but when the course of regimen was over, the effect ceased : he returned the book with many thanks, and fell again into his vicious courses. Ere long he was seized with a violent fever : and when his life was despaired of, was restored, as he believed, by the skill of a journeyman apothecary, who, being a Methodist, attended him for char- ity. His recovery brought with it a keen but transitory re- pentance. This was at Wrexham. Here he and one of his companions committed an act of arch-villainy, and de- camped in consequence ; Olivers leaving several debts be- hind him (which was generally the case wherever he went), and the other running away from his apprenticeship. They ♦ [See Appendix, Note I. — Am. Ed.'\ 24 THOMAS OLIVERS. traveled as far as Bristol ; and there Olivers, learning that Mr. Whitefield was to preach, resolved to go and hear what he had to say; because he had often heard of Whitefield, and had sung songs about him. He went, and was too late. Determined to be soon enough on the following evening, he went three hours before the time. When the sermon began, he did little but look about him ; but seeing tears trickle down the cheeks of some who stood near, he became more attentive. The text was, ** Is not this a brand plucked out of the JireV " When the sermon began," says this fiery-minded Welsh' man, " I was certainly a dreadful enemy to God, and to all that is good ; and one of the most profligate and abandoned young men living." Before it was ended, he became a new creature : a clear view of redemption was set before him, and his own conscience gave him clear conviction of its necessity. The heart, he says, was broken ; nor could he express the strong desires which he felt for righteous- ness. They led him to effectual resolutions : he broke off all his evil practices, forsook all his wicked companions, and gave himself up with all his heart to God. He was now almost incessantly in tears. He was constant in at- tending worship, wherever it was going on ; and de- scribes his feelings during a Te Deum at the cathedral, as if he had done with earth, and was praising God before his throne. He bought the Week's Preparation, and read it upon his knees day and night ; and so constant was he in prayer, and in this position, that his knees be- came stiff", and he was actually, for a time, lame in conse- quence. So earnest was I," he says, " that I used by the hour together, to wrestle with all the might of my body and soul, till I almost expected to die on the spot. What with bitter cries (unheard by any but God and myself), together with torrents of tears, which were almost continu- ally trickling down my cheeks, my throat was often dried up, as David says, and my eyes literally failed, while I waited for God !" He used to follow Whitefield in the streets, with such veneration, that he could "scarce refrain from kissing the very prints of his feet." Here he would fain have become a member of the So- ciety ; but when, with much timidity, he made his wishes known to one of Mr. Whitefield's ministers, the preacher, for some unexplained reason, thought proper to discourage him. After a few months, Olivers removed to Bradford, THOMAS OUVERS. 25 and there, for a long time, attended the preaching of the Methodists; and when the public service was over, and he, with the uninitiated, was shut out, he would go into the field at the back of the preaching-house, and listen while they were singing, and weep bitterly at the thought that, while God's people were thus praising his name, he, a poor wretched fugitive, was not permitted to be among them. And, though he compared himself to one of the foolish vir- gins, when they came out he would walk behind them for the sake of catching a word of their religious conversation. This conduct, and his regular attendance, at last attracted notice ; he was asked if it was his wish to join the Society, and receive a note of admission from the preacher. His rebuff at Bristol had discouraged him from applying for what might so easily have been obtained ; and the longing for the admission had produced a state of mind little diS ferent from insanity. Returning home, now that he pos- sessed it, and exhilarated, or even intoxicated with joy, he says, that as he came to the bottom of the hill, at the entrance of the town, a ray of light, resembling the shining of a star, descended through a small opening in the heav- en, and instantaneously shone upon him. In that instant his burden fell off, and he was so elevated, that he felt as if he could literally fly away to heaven.* A shooting star might easily produce this effect upon a man so agitated : for " trifles, light as air," will act as strongly upon enthusi- asm as upon jealousy; and never was any man in a state of higher enthusiasm than Olivers at this time. He says, that in every thought, intention, or desire, his constant in- quiry was, whether it was to the glory of God ; and that if he could not answer in the affirmative, he dared not indulge it : that he received his daily food nearly in the same man- ner as he did the sacrament ; that he used mental prayer daily and hourly ; and for a while his rule was, in this man- ner to employ five minutes out of every quarter of an hour. He made it part of his business to stir up the members of the Society to greater diligences, and, among other things, used to run over great part of the town to call them up to * " This," he says, " was the more surprising to me, as I had always been (what I still am) so prejudiced in favor of rational religion as not to regard visions, or revelations perhaps, so much as I ought to do. But this light was so clear, and the sweetness and other effects attending it were so great, that though it happened about twenty-seven years ago, the several circumstances thereof are as fresh in my remembrance as if they had happened but yesterday." VOL. II, B 26 THOMAS OLIVERS. the moining preaching. " Upon the whole," he pursues, "I truly lived by faith. I saw God in every thing: the heavens, the earth, and all therein, showed me something of him ; yea, even from a drop of water, a blade of grass, or a grain of sand, I often received instruction." He soon became desirous of " telling the world what God had done for him ;" and having communicated this desire to his band-fellows, they kept a day of solemn fasting on the occasion, and then advised him to make a trial. Many ap- proved of his gifts : others were of opinion that he ought to be more established, and was too earnest to hold it long. When he began to preach, his custom was, to get all his worldly business done, clean himself, and put out his Sun- day's apparel on Saturday night, which sometimes was not accomplished before midnight : afterward he sat up read- ing, praying, and examining himself, till one or two in the morning : he rose at four, or never later than five, and went two miles into the country, through all weather, to meet a few poor people, from six till seven. By eight he returned to Bradford, to hear the preaching; then went seven miles on foot to preach at one ; three or four farther to hold forth at five ; and, after all, had some five or six more to walk on his return. And as the preaching was more exhausting than the exercise, he was often so wearied, that he could scarcely get over a stile, or go up into his chamber when he got home. For some time," says he, " I had frequent doubts con- cerning my call. One time, as I was going to preach at Coleford, I was tempted to believe that I was running be- fore I was sent. As I went on, the temptation grew stronger and stronger. At last I resolved to turn back. I had not gone back above thirty or forty yards before I be- gan to think, * This may be a temptation of the devil.' On that I took out my Testament, and on opening it, the words I cast my eyes on were. He that jputteth his hand to the plough^ and looketh bach, is not Jit for the kingdom of Heaven. I could not help looking on this as the voice of God to me ; therefore I took courage to turn about, and pursue my journey to Coleford." When he had been a local preacher about twelve months, the small-pox broke out in Bradford, and spread like a pestilence : scarce a single person escaped ; and six or Beven died daily. Olivers was seized with it the first week in October : heating things were given him by an ignorant •PHOMAS OLIVERS. 27 old woman ; and when some charitable person sent an ex- perienced physician to visit him, the physician declared that, in the course of fifty years' practice, he had never eeen so severe a case. He was blind for five weeks. The room in which he lay was so offensive, that those who went out of it infected the streets as they passed. He was not able to rise, that his bed might be made, till New-Year's Day ; yet, during the whole time, he never uttered a groan or a single complaint; " thus evincing," as he says, ** that no suffering is too great for the grace of God to enable us to bear with resignation and quietness." This long illness increased the number of his debts, which were numerous enougli before his conversion. As soon, therefore, as he had gained sufficient strength for the journey, he set ofl' for Montgomeryshire, to receive his little property, which had hitherto remained in Mr. Tudor'a hands. The thorough change which had been effected in so notorious a reprobate astonished all who knew him ; when they saw him riding far and near, in search of all persons to whom he was indebted, and faithfully making payment of what the creditors never expected to recover, they could not doubt the sincerity of his reformation, and they ascribed it to the grace of God. Tudor explained the matter in a way more satisfactory to himself, because he could comprehend it better : he said to Olivers, ** Thou hast been so wicked that thou hast seen the devil."* Hav- ing paid his debts in his own country, he returned by way of Bristol to Bradford, discharged, in like manner, his ac- counts in both these places, and being now clear of the world, and thereby delivered from a burden which had cost him, as he says, many prayers and tears, he set up business with the small remains of his money, and with a little credit ; but, before he was half settled, Wesley ex- horted him to free himself from all such engagements, and make the work of the Gospel his sole pursuit. The advice of the master was a law to the obedient disciple. Olivers disposed of his effects, wound up his affairs, and prepared to itinerate in the west of England. "But I was not able," he says, '* to buy another horse ; and therefore, with my boots on my legs, my great coat on ray back, and my sad- * There -is a sort of wild philosophy in this popular notion. See Friend, vol. iii., p. 71 (p. 56, 3d edition). What we have within, that only can we see without. Aaifiova^ el6ei ovdei^ si ff^ b daifiovoelSijg. — 8.T.C. 28 THOMAS OHVERg. die-bags, with my books and linen, across my shoulder, I set out in October, 1753." Wesley, when he was not the dupe of his own imagina- tion, could read the characters of men with a discriminating eye. He was not deceived in Olivers : the daring disposi- tion, the fiery temper, and the stubbornness of this Welsh- man, were now subdued and disciplined into an intrepidity, an ardor, and a perseverance, which were the best requisites for his vocation. It was not long before one of his congre- gation at Tiverton presented him with the price of a horse, as well suited to him as Bucephalus to Alexander; for he was as tough and as indefatigable as his master. Indeed the beast, as if from sympathy, made the first advances, by coming up to him in a field where he was walking with the owner, and laying his nose upon his shoulder. Pleased with this familiarity, Olivers stroked the colt, which was then about two years and a half old ; and finding that the farmer would sell him for five pounds, struck the bargain. ** I have kept him," he says in his memoirs, " to this day, which is about twenty-five years, and on him I have travel- ed comfortably not less than a hundred thousand miles." On one occasion both he and his horse were exposed to a service of some danger at Yarmouth. The mob of that town had sworn, that if any Methodist came there, he should never return alive. Olivers, however, being then stationed at Norwich, was resolved to try the experiment, and accordingly set out with a companion, who was in no encouraging state of mind, but every now and then ex- claimed upon the road, " I shall be murdered, and go to hell this day ; for I know not the Lord." With this unhap- py volunteer for martyrdom, Olivers entered Yarmouth ; and having first attended service in the church, went into the market-place and gave out a hymn. The people col- lected, and listened with tolerable quietness while he sung and prayed ; but, as soon as he had taken his text, they began so rude a comment upon the sermon, that one of his friends prudently pulled him down from his perilous stand, and retreated with him into a house, in one of those re- markable streets which are peculiar to Yarmouth, and are called rows ; and which are so narrow, that two long- armed persons may almost shake hands across from the windows. Though Olivers had rashly thrust himself into this adventure, he was prudent enough now to withdraw from it, and accordingly he sent for his horse. The mob THOMAS OLIVERS. 29 recognized the animal, foUowetl him, and filled the row. To wait till they dispersed might have been inconvenient ; and perhaps they might have attacked the house : so he came forth, mounted resolutely, and making use of his faithful roadster as a charger on this emergency, forced the rabble before him through the row ; but the women on either side stood in the door-ways, some with bowls of water, others with both hands full of dirt, to salute him as he passed. Having rode the gauntlet here, and got into the open street, a tremendous battery of stones, sticks, ap- ples, turnips, potatoes, and other such varieties of mob ammunition, was opened upon him and his poor comrade : the latter clapped spurs to his horse, and galloped out of town : Olivers proceeded more calmly ; and watching the sticks and stones which came near, so as to ward them off, and evade the blow, preserved, as he says, a regular re- treat. Olivers was more likely led into this danger by a point of honor, than by any natural rashness ; for, that he had acquired a considerable share of sound worldly prudence, appears from the curious account which he has given of his deliberation concerning marriage. Setting out, he says, with a conviction that in this important concern " young people did not consult reason and the will of God, so much as their own foolish inclinations," he inquired of himself, in the first place, whether he was called to marry at that time ; and having settled that question in the affirmative, the next inquiry was, what sort of a person ought he to marry 1 The remainder is too extraordinary and too char- acteristic to be given in any words but his own : — " To this I answered in general, such a one as Christ would choose for me, suppose he was on earth, and was to under- take that business. I then asked, * But what sort of a per- son have I reason to believe he would choose for me ]* Here I fixed on the following properties, and ranged them in the following order : — The first was grace : I was quite certain that no preacher of God's word ought, on any con- sideration, to marry one who is not eminently gracious. Secondly, she ought to have tolerably good common sense : a Methodist preacher, in particular, who travels into all parts, and sees such a variety of company, ought not to take a fool with him. Thirdly, as I knew the natural warmth of my own temper, I concluded that a wise and gracious God would not choose a companion for me who 30 THOMAS OLIVERS. would throw oil, but rather water, upon the fire. Fourthly, I judged, that, as I was connected with a poor people, the will of God was, that whoever I married should have a small competency, to prevent her being chargeable to any." He then proceeds to say, that, upon the next step in the inquiry, " Who is the person in whom these properties are found V he immediately turned his eyes on Miss Green, ** a person of a good family, and noted through all the north of England for her extraordinary piety." He opened his mind to her, consulted Mr. Wesley, married her; and hav- ing, " in this affair, consulted reason and the will of God so impartially, had abundant reason to be thankful ever after- ward." The small-pox had shaken his constitution : for eight years after that dreadful illness his health continually de- clined ; and he was thought to be far advanced in consump- tion when he was appointed to the York circuit, where he had to take care of sixty societies, and ride about three hundred miles every six weeks. Few persons thought it possible that he could perform the journey once ; but he said, " I am determined to go as far as I can, and when I can go no farther, I will turn back." By the time he had got half round, the exercise, and perhaps the frequent change of air, restored in some degree his appetite, and improved his sleep ; and before he reached the end, he had begun to recover flesh; but it was twelve years before he felt himself a hale man. The few fits of dejection with which he was troubled, seem to have originated more in bodily weakness than in the temper of his mind. One in- stance is curious, for the way in which it affected others. While he was dining one day about noon, a thought came over him that he was not called to preach ; the food, there- fore, with which he was then served, did not belong to him, and he was a thief and a robber in eating it. He burst into tears, and could eat no more ; and having to officiate at one o'clock, went to the preaching-house, weeping all the way. He went weeping into the pulpit, and wept sorely while he gave out the hymn, and while he prayed, and while he preached. A sympathetic emotion spread through the congregation, which made them receive the impression like melted wax ; many of them ** cried aloud for the disquiet- ness of their souls;" and Olivers, who, looking as usual for Bupernatural agency in every thing, had supposed the doubt of his own qualifications to be produced by the tempter, be- THOMAS OLIVERS. SI lieved now that the Lord had brought much good out of that temptation. After serving many years as a traveling preacher, he was fixed in London as the manager of Mr. Wesley's print- ing ; an occupation which did not interfere with his preach- ing, but made him stationary. He never labored harder in his life, he says ; and finding it good both for body and soul, he hoped to be fully employed as long as he lived. Well might this man, upon reviewing his own eventful his- tory, bless God for the manifold mercies which he had ex- perienced, and look upon the Methodists as the instruments of his deliverance from sin and death. CHAPTER XVIII. JOHN HAIME. SAMPSON STANIFORTH. GEORQE STORY. Among the memoirs of his more eminent preachers, which Wesley published in his magazine, as written by themselves for general edification, is " A short Account of God's Dealings with Mr. John Haime." Satan has so much to do in the narrative, that this is certainly a misno- mer. It is accompanied by his portrait, taken when he was seventy years of age. What organs a craniologist might have detected under his brown wig, it is impossible to say; but Lavater himself would never have discovered, in those mean and common features, the turbulent mind, and passionate fancy, which belonged to them. Small, in- expressive eyes, scanty eyebrows, and a short, broad, vul- gar nose, in a face of ordinary proportions, seem to mark out a subject who would have been content to travel a jog- trot along the high-road of mortality, and have looked for no greater delight than that of smoking and boozing in the chimney-coiTier. And yet John Haime passed his whole life in a continued spiritual ague. He was born at Shaftesbury, in 1710, and bred up to his father's employment, of gardening. Not liking this, he tried button-making ; but no occupation pleased him : and indeed he appears, by his own account, to have been in a state little differing from insanity ; or differing from it in this only, that he had sufficient command of himself not to communicate the miserable imaginations by which he was tormented. He describes himself as undutiful to his pa- rents, addicted to cursing, swearing, lying, and Sabbath- breaking ; tempted with blasphemous thoughts, and per- petually in fear of the devil, so that he could find no comfort in working, eating, drinking, or even in sleeping. " The devil," he says, broke in upon me with reasonings con- cerning the being of a God, till my senses were almost gone. He then so strongly tempted me to blaspheme, that I could not withstand. He then told me, ' Thou art inev- JOHN HAIMC. 33 itably damned ;' and I readily believed him. This made me sink into despair, as a stone into the mighty water. I now began to wander about by the river side, and through woods and solitary places ; many times looking up to heaven with a heart ready to break, thinking I had no part there. I thought every one happy but myself, the devil continually telling me there was no mercy for me. I ciied for help, but found no relief ; so I said, there is no hope, and gave the reins to my evil desires, not caring which end went foremost, but giving up myself to wicked company and all their evil ways. And I was hastening on, when the great tremendous God met me, as a lion in the way ; and his holy Spirit, whom I had been so long grieving, re- turned with greater force than ever. I had no rest day or night. I was afraid to go to bed, lest the devil should fetch me away before morning. I was afraid to shut my eyes, lest I should awake in hell. I was ten-ified when asleep ; sometimes dreaming that many devils were in the room ready to take me away ; sometimes that the world was at an end. At other times I thought I saw the world on fire, and the wicked left to burn therein, with myself among them ; and when I awoke, my senses were almost gone. I was often on the point of destroying myself, and was stopped, I know not how. Then did I weep bitterly ; I moaned like a dove, I chattered like a swallow." He relates yet more violent paroxysms than these : how, having risen from his knees, upon a sudden impulse that he would not pray, nor be beholden to God for mercy, he passed the whole night as if his very body had been in a fire, and hell within him ; thoroughly persuaded that the devil was in the room, and fully expecting every moment that he would be let loose upon him. He says, that in an excess of blasphemous frenzy, having a stick in his hand, he threw it toward heaven against God with the utmost enmity ; and he says that this act was followed by what he supposed to be a supernatural appearance : that immedi- ately he saw, in the clear sky, a creature like a swan, but much larger, part black, part brown, which flew at him, went just over his head, and lighting on the ground, at about forty yards' distance, stood staring upon him. The reader must not suppose this to be mere fiction ; what he saw was certainly a bustard, whose nest was near ;* but ♦ [If it is granted, as is probably the case, that this conjecture is correct, it does not compel to the conclusion that there was nothing of B* 34 JOHN HAIME. Wesley pablishes the story as Haime wrote it, without any qualifying word or observation, and doubtless believed it as it was written. Had this poor man been a Romanist, he would have found beads and holy water effectual amu- lets in such cases; anodynes would have been the best pal- liatives in such a disease ; and he might have been cured through the imagination, when no remedy could be applied to the understanding. In this extraordinary state of mind he forsook his wife and children, and enlisted in the queen's regiment of dra- goons. The life which John Bunyan wrote of himself, under the title of " Grace abounding to the Chief of Sin- ners," now fell into his hands. He read it with the deepest attention, finding that the case nearly resembled his own ; he thought it the best book he had ever seen ; and it gave him some hope of mercy. " In every town where we stayed," says he, " I went to church ; but I did not hear what I wanted ; * Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world !' Being come to Alnwick, Sa- tan desired to have me, that he might sift me as wheat. And the hand of the Lord came upon me with such weight, as made me roar for very anguish of spirit. Many times I stopped in the street, afiaid to go one step farther, lest I should step into hell. I now read and fasted, and went to church, and prayed seven times a-day. One day, as I walked by the Tweed side, I cried out aloud, being all athirst for God, ' Oh that thou wouldst hear my prayer, and let my cry come up before thee!' The Lord heard ; he sent a gracious answer; he lifted me up out of the dun- geon ; he took away all my son-ow and fear, and filled my soul with peace and joy. The stream glided sweetly along, and all nature seemed to rejoice with me." But left, as he was, wholly to his own diseased imagination, the hot and cold fits succeeded each other with little interval of rest. Being sent to London with the camp-equipage, he went divine providence in the affair. It is a capital fault of Mr. Southey's philosophy, that it is not merely atheistical, but in many instances God- destroying. Could not the same hand that directed the instincts of the " two she-bears" at Mount Bethel, direct a bustard, by her care for her nest, to be a medium of reproof to John Haime ? That Wesley pub- lished the account without comment, is no proof that he believed the appearance to be supernatural, though he was not so much an atheist (or to use a less opprobrious synonym, a Socinian) as to deny that God could have had any thing to do in it. See Appendix, Note II. — Am. JOHN HAIME. 35 to hear one of Whitefield's preachers ; and ventured, as he was coming back from the meeting, to tell him the distress of his soul. The preacher, whose charity seems to have been upon a par with his wisdom, made answer, '* The work of the devil is upon you," and rode away. " It was of the tender mercies of God," says poor Haime, " that I did not put an end to my life." " Yet," he says, " I thought if I must be damned myself, I will do what I can that others may be saved ; so I began to reprove open sin wherever I saw or heard it, and to warn the ungodly, that, if they did not repent, they would surely perish : but, if I found any that were weary and heavy-laden, I told them to wait upon the Lord, and he would renew their strength ; yet I found no strength myself." He was, however, lucky enough to hear Charles Wesley, at Colchester, and to consult him when the service was over. Wiser than the Calvinistic preacher, Charles Wesley encouraged him, and bade him go on without fear, and not be dismayed at any temptation. These words sunk deep, and were felt as a blessing to him for many years. His regiment was now ordered to Flanders ; and writing from thence to Wesley for comfort and counsel, he was exhorted to persevere in his calling. *' It is but a little thing," said Wesley, " that man should be against you, while you know God is on your side. If he give you any companion in the narrow way, it is well ; and it is well if he does not : but by all means miss no opportunity — speak and spare not ; declare what God has done for your soul ; regard not worldly prudence. Be not ashamed of Christ, or of his word, or of his work, or of his servants. Speak the truth, in love, even in the midst of a crooked generation." " I did speak," he says, " and not spare." He was in the battle of Dettingen, and being then in a state of hope, he describes himself as in the most exalted and enviable state of mind, while, during seven hours, he stood the fire of the enemy. He was in a new world, and his heart was filled with love, peace, and joy, more than tongue could express. His faith, as well as his courage, was put to the trial, and both were found proof Returning into Flanders, to take up their winter-quar- ters, as they marched beside the Maine, they "saw the dead men lie in the river, and on the banks, as dung for the earth ; for many of the French, attempting to pass the river after the bridge had been broken, had been drownfed, 36 JOHN HAIME. and cast ashore, where there was none to bury them." During the winter, he found two soldiers who agreed to take a room with him, and meet every night to pray and read the Scriptures : others soon joined them, a society was formed, and Methodism was organized in the army with great success. There were three hundred in the society, and six preachers beside Haime. As soon as they were settled in a camp, they built a tabernacle. He had generally a thousand hearers, officers as well as common soldiers ; and he found means of hiring others to do his duty, that he might have more leisure for carrying on the spiritual war. He frequently walked between twenty and thirty miles a-day, and preached five times a-day for a week together. " I had three armies against me," he says : *' the French army, the wicked English army, and an army of devils ; but I feared them not." It was not, indeed, likely that he should go on without some difficulties, his notions of duty not being always perfectly in accoi-dance with the established rules of military discipline. An officer one day asked him what he preached ; and as Haime men- tioned certain sins which he more particularly denounced, and which perhaps touched the inquirer a little too closely, the officer swore at him, and said, that, if it were in his power, he would have him flogged to death. Sir," re- plied Haime, *' you have a commission over men ; but I have a commission from God to tell you, you must either repent of your sins, or perish everlastingly." His com- manding officer asked him how he came to preach ; and being answered, that the Spirit of God constrained him to call his fellow-sinners to repentance, told him that then he must restrain that spirit. Haime replied he would die first. It is to the honor of his officers that they manifested no seri- ous displeasure at language like this. His conduct toward one of his comrades might have drawn upon him much more unpleasant consequences. This was a reprobate fel- low, who, finding a piece of money, after some search, which he thought he had lost, threw it on the table, and exclaimed, " There is my ducat ; but no thanks to God, any more than to the devil." Hairne wrote down the words, and brought him to a court-martial. Being then asked what he had to say against him, he produced the speech in writing ; and the officer, having read it, demanded to know if he was not ashamed to take account of such matters. *' No, sir," replied the enthusiast ; "if I had heard such JOHN HAIME. 37 words spoken against his majesty, King George, would not you have accounted me a villain if I had concealed them ]" The only corporal pain to which officers were subjected by our martial law, was for this offense. Till the reign of Queen Anne, they were liable to have their tongues bored with a hot iron ; and, mitigated as the law now was, it might still have exposed the culprit to serious punishment, if the officer had not sought to end the matter as easily as he could ; and therefore, after telling the soldier that he was worthy of death, by the laws of God and man, asked the prosecutor what he wished to have done ; giving him thus an opportunity of atoning, by a little discretion, for the excess of his zeal. Haime answered, that he only de- sired to be parted from him ; and thus it terminated. It was well for him that this man was not of a malicious tem- per, or he might easily have made the zealot be regarded by all his fellows in the odious light of a persecutor and an informer. While he was quartered at Bruges, General Ponsonby granted him the use of the English church, and, by help of some good singing, they brought together a large con- gregation. In the ensuing spring the battle of Fontenoy was fought. The Methodist soldiers were at this time wrought up to a high pitch of fanaticism. One of them being fully prepossessed with a belief that he should fall in the action, danced for joy before he went into it, ex- claiming, that he was going to rest in the bosom of Jesus. Others, when mortally wounded, broke out into rapturous expressions of hope and assured triumph, at the near pros- pect of dissolution. Haime himself was under the not less comfortable persuasion that the French had no ball made which would kill him that day. His horse was killed under him. " Where is your God now, Haime V said an officer, seeing him fall. "Sir, he is here with me," replied the soldier, " and he will bring me out of the battle." Before Haime could extricate himself from the horse, which was lying upon him, a carmon-ball took off the officer's head. Three of his fellow-preachers were killed in this battle, a fourth went to the hospital, having both arms broken ; the other two began to preach the pleasant doctrine of Antino- mianism, and professed that they were always happy ; in which one of them, at least, was sincere, being frequently drunk twice a-day. Many months had not passed before Haime himself relapsed into his old miserable state. " I 38 JOHN HAIME. was off my watch," he says, " and fell by a grievous temp- tation. It came as quick as lightning. 1 knew not it" I was in my senses ; but I fell, and the Spirit of God departed from me. Satan was let loose, and followed me by day and by night. The agony of my mind weighed down my body, and threw me into a bloody flux. I was carried to a hospital, just dropping into hell; but the Lord upheld me with an unseen hand, quivering over the great gulf. Before my fall, my sight was so strong, that I could look steadfastly on the sun at noonday ; but after it, I could not look a man in the face, nor bear to be in any company. The roads, the hedges, the trees, every thing seemed cursed of God. Nature appeared void of God, and in the possession of the devil. The fowls of the air, and the beasts of the field, all appeared in a league against me. I was one day drawn out into the woods, lamenting my for- lorn state, and on a sudden I began to weep bitterly: from weeping I fell to howling, like a wild beast, so that the woods resounded ; yet could I say, notwithstanding my bitter cry, my stroke is heavier than my groaning ; never- theless, I could not say, ' Lord have mercy upon me !' if I might have purchased heaven thereby. Very frequently Judas was represented to me as hanging just before me. So great was the displeasure of God against me, that he, in great measure, took away the sight of my eyes : I could not see the sun for more than eight months ; even in the clearest summer day, it always appeared to me Hke a mass of blood. At the same time I lost the use of my knees. I could truly say, * Thou hast sent fire into my bones.' I was often as hot as if I was burning to death : many times I looked to see if my clothes were not on fire. I have gone into a river to cool myself ; but it was all the same ; for what could quench the wrath of His indignation, that was let loose upon me 1 At other times, in the midst of sum- mer, I have been so cold that I knew not how to bear it : all the clothes I could put on had no effect; but my flesh shivered, and my very bones quaked." As a mere physical case, this would be very curious ; but, as a psychological one, it is of the highest interest. For seven years he continued in this miserable state, with- out one comfortable hope, " angry at God, angry at him- self, angry at the devil," and fancying himself possessed with more devils than Mary Magdalene. Only while he was preaching to others (for he still continued to preach) JOHN HAtME. 39 his distress was a little abated. " Some inquire," says he, ** what could move me to preach, while I was in such a forlorn condition ? They must ask of God, for 1 can not tell. After some years I attempted again to pray. With this Satan was not well pleased ; for one day, as 1 was walking alone, and faintly crying for mercy, suddenly such a hot blast of brimstone flashed in my face, as almost took away my breath ; and presently after an invisible power struck up my heels, and threw me violently upon my face. One Sunday I went to church in Holland, when the Lord's Supper was to be administered. I had a great desire to partake of it ; but the enemy came in like a flood to hinder me, pouring in temptations of every kind. I resisted him with my might, till, through the agony of my mind, the blood gushed out at my mouth and nose. However, I was enabled to conquer, and to partake of the blessed elements. I was much distressed with dreams and visions of the night. I dreamed one night that I was in hell ; another, that I was on Mount ^tna ; that, on a sudden, it shook and trem- bled exceedingly ; and that, at last, it split asunder in several places, and sunk into the burning lake, all but that little spot on which I stood. Oh, how thankful was I for my preservation ! — I thought that I was worse than Cain. In rough weather it was often suggested to me, * This is on your account ! See, the earth is cursed for your sake; and it will be no better till you are in hell !* Often did I wish that I had never been converted — often, that I had never been born. Yet I preached every day, and endeavored to appear open and free to my brethren. I encouraged them that were tempted. I thundered out the terrors of the law against the ungodly. I was often violently tempted to curse and swear, before and after, and even while I was preaching. Sometimes, when I was in the midst of the congregation, I could hardly re- frain from laughing aloud ; yea, from uttering all kind of ribaldry and filthy conversation. Frequently, as I was go- ing to preach, the devil has set upon me as a lion, telling me he would have me just then, so that it has thrown me into a cold sweat. In this agony I have caught hold of the Bible, and read, * If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, the righteous !' I have said to the enemy, ' This is the word of God, and thou canst not deny it!' Thereat he would be like a man that shrunk back from the thrust of a sword. But he would be at me 40 JOHN HAIME. again. I again met him in the same way ; till at last, blessed be God ! he fled from me. And even in the midst of his sharpest assaults, God gave me just strength enough to bear them. When he has strongly suggested, just as I was going to preach, ' I will have thee at last,' I have answered (sometimes with too much anger), * I will have another out of thy hand first!' And many, while I was mvself in the deep, were truly convinced and converted to God." Having returned to England, and obtained his discharge from the army, he was admitted by Mr. Wesley as a traveling preacher. This, however, did not deliver him from his miserable disease of mind : he could neither be satisfied with preaching nor without it ; wherever he went he was not able to remain, but was continually wandering to and fro, seeking rest, but finding none. " I thought," he says, " if David or Peter had been living, they would have pitied me." Wesley, after a while, took him as a companion in one of his rounds, knowing his state of mind, and knowino^ how to bear with it, and to manacre it. " It was good for him," he said, " to be in the fiery furnace : he should be purified therein, but not consumed." Year after year he continued in this extraordinary state, till, in the year 1766, he was persuaded by Mr. Wesley to go and dwell with a person at St. Ives, in Cornwall, who wanted a worn-out preacher to live with him, take care of his family, and pray with him morning and evening. Here he was, if possible, ten times worse than before ; and it seemed to him, that, unless he got some relief, he must die in despair. "One day," he says, " I retired into the hall, fell on my face, and cried for mercy ; but got no answer. I got up, and walked up and down the room, wringing my hands, and crying like to break my heart; begging of God, for Christ's sake, if there "was any mercy for me, to help me ; and, blessed be his name, all on a sudden, I found such a change through my soul and body, as is past descrip- tion. I was afraid I should alarm the whole house with the expressions of my joy. I had a full witness from the Spirit of God that I should not find that bondage any more. Glory be to God for all his mercy !" Twenty years the disease had continued upon him ; and it now left him, by his own account, as instantaneously as it came : and his account is credible ; for he acknowledges that he had not the same faith as in his former state : the age of rapture SAMPSON STANIFORTH. 41 was over, and the fierceness of his disposition was spent, though its restlessness was unabated. Though his chap- lainship with Mr. Hoskins had every thing which could render such a situation comfortable, he could not be at ease till he was again in motion, and had resumed his itinerant labors. He lived till the great age of seventy- eight, and died of a fever, which was more than twelve months consuming him, and which wore him to the bone before he went to rest. But though his latter days were pain, they were not sorrow. *' He preached as long as he was able to speak, and longer than he could stand without support." Some of his last words were, "O Lord, in thee have I trusted, and have not been confounded;" and he expired in full confidence that a convoy of angels were ready to conduct his soul to the paradise of God.* Whatever may be thought of John Haime's qualifications for preaching the Gospel, there was one man, at least, who had reason to bless him as his greatest earthly bene- factor : this was Sampson Staniforth, who served at the same time as a private in the army. He was the son of a cutler at Sheffield, and grew up without any moral or re- ligious instruction, so that he had " no fear of God before his eyes, no thought of his providence, of his saving mercy, nor indeed of his having any thing to do with the world." Why he was bom into the world, what was his business in it, or where he was to go when this life was over, were considerations, he says, which never entered into his mind; and he grew up in a course of brutal vices, being as utterly without God in the world as the beasts that perish. He describes himself as not only fierce and passionate, but also sullen and malicious, without any feeling of humanity ; and disposed, instead of weeping with those who wept, to rejoice in their sufferings. This hopeful subject enlisted as a soldier at the age of nineteen, in spite of the tears and * In this sorrowful case, it is difficult not to think, and even to hope, that it is that of a patient so erroneously treated from the beginning as to make the late and final recovery a work of divine mercy, in spite of the physician and his injudicious medicines ; which yet, in a differ- ent case, might have been right ones. The Moravian doctrine, espe- cially that of imputed righteousness, would have suited this case. Haime should have been led to fix his whole attention, and all the ardor of his seeking, on that which he was sure to find ; and there, where he was sure to find it — the righteousness of Christ in Christ — the infinite love and loveliness of the redeeming God, the Son of Man ; in short, he should have been drawn out of himself, or rather, out of the morbid acts and products which he took for himself — S^. T. C. 42 EAMPSON STANIFORTH. entreaties of his mother ; and, after some hair-breadth escapes from situations into which he was led by his own rashness and profligacy, he joined the army in Germany a few days after the battle of Dettingen. While they were encamped at Worms, orders were read at the head of every regiment, that no soldier should go above a mile from the camp on pain of death, which was to be executed imme- diately, without the forms of a court-martial. This did not deter Staniforth from straggling; and he was drinking with some of his comrades in a small town to the left of the camp, when a captain, with a guard of horse, came to take them up, being appointed to seize all he could find out of the lines, and hang up the first man without delay. The guard entered the town and shut the gates. He saw them in time, ran to a wicket in the great gate, which was only upon the latch, and before the gate itself could be opened to let the horsemen follow him, got into the vineyards, and there concealed himself by lying down. He had a still narrower escape not long afterward : many complaints had been made of the marauders in the English army ; and it was proclaimed that the guard would be out every night, to hang up the first offenders who were taken. This fellow listened to the proclamation, and set out, as soon as the officer who read it had turned away, upon a plundering party, with two of his companions. They stole four bul- locks, and were met by an officer driving them to the camp. Staniforth said they had bought them, and the excuse pass- ed. On the next day the owners came to the camp to make their complaint ; and three of the beasts, which had been sold, but not slaughtered, were identified. Orders were, of course, given to arrest the thieves. That very morning Staniforth had been sent to some distance on an out-party, and thus Providence again preserved him from a shameful death. There was in the same company with him a native of Barnard Castle, by name Mark, Bond, a man of a melan- choly but religious disposition, who had enlisted in the hope of being killed. " His ways," says Staniforth, were not like those of other men : out of his little pay he saved money to send to his friends. We could never get him to drink with us ; but he was always full of sorrow : he read much, and was much in private prayer." The state of his mind arose from having uttered blasphemy when he was a little boy, and the thought of this kept him in a constant SAMPSON STANrFORTII. 43 state of wretchedness and despair. A Romanist might here observe, that a distressing case like this could not have occurred in one of his persuasion; and one who knows that the practice of confession brings with it evils tenfold greater than those which it palliates, may be allowed to regret, that in our church there should be so little intercourse between the pastor and the people. This poor man might have continued his whole life in misery, if John Haime had not taken to preaching in the army : he went to hear him, and found what he wanted : his peace of mind was restored ; and wishing that others should partake in the happiness which he experienced, he could think of no one who stood more in need of the same spiritual medicine than his com- rade Staniforth. He, as might be expected, first wondered at his conversation, and afterward mocked at it. Bond, however, was not thus to be discouraged : he met him one day when he was in distress, having neither food, money, nor credit, and asked him to go and hear the preaching. Staniforth made answer, *' You had better give me some- thing to eat and drink, for I am both hungry and dry." Bond did as he was requested ; took him to a sutler's, and treated him, and persuaded him afterward, reluctant as he was, to accompany him to the preaching. Incoherent and rhapsodical as such preaching would be, it was better suited to such auditors than any thing more temperate would have been : it was level to their capacities ; and the passionate sincerity with which it was delivered found the readiest way to their feelings. Staniforth, who went with great unwillingness, and who was apparently in no ways prepared for such an effect, was, by that one sermon, sud- denly and effectually reclaimed from a state of habitual brutality and vice. He returned to his tent full of sorrow, thoroughly convinced of his miserable state, and " seeing all his sins stand in battle-array against him." The next day he went early to the place of meeting : some soldiers were reading there, some singing hymns, and others were at prayer. One came up to him, and after inquiring how long he had attended the preachers, said to him, " Let us go to prayer;" and Staniforth was obliged to confess that he could not pray, for he had never prayed in his life, neither had he ever read in any devotional book. Bond had a pice of an old Bible, and gave it him, saying, " I can do better without it than you." This was a true friend. He found that Staniforth was in debt ; and telling him that 44 SAMPSON STANIFORTH. it became Christians to be first just, and then charitable, said, " We will put both our pays together, and live as hard as we can, and what we spare will pay the debt." Such practice must have come strongly in aid of the preaching. From that time Stanifbrth shook off all his evil courses ; though till then an habitual swearer, he never afterward swore an oath ; though addicted to drinking, he never was intoxicated again ; though a gambler from his youth up, he left off gaming ; and having so often risked his neck for the sake of plunder, he would not now gather an apple or a bunch of grapes. Methodism had wrought in him a great and salutary work ; but it taught him to expect another change not less palpable to himself: he was in bitter dis- tress under the weight of his sins, and he was taught to look for a full and entire sense of deliverance from the burden. His own efforts were not wanting to bring on this spiritual crisis, and after some months he was success- ful. The account which he gives must be explained by supposing that strong passion made the impression, of what was either a sleeping or a waking dream, strong as reality ; a far more probable solution than would be afforded by ascribing it to any willful exaggeration or deliberate false- hood. " From twelve at night till two," he says, " it was my turn to stand sentinel at a dangerous post. I had a fellow-sentinel ; but I desired him to go away, which he willingly did. As soon as I was alone, I knelt down, and determined not to lise, but to continue crying and wrest- ling with God, till he had mercy on me. How long I was in that agony I can not tell ; but, as I looked up to heaven, I saw the clouds open exceeding bright, and I saw Jesus hanging on the cross. At the same moment these words were applied to my heart, * Thy sins are forgiven thee.' All guilt was gone, and my soul was filled with unutterable peace : the fear of death and hell was vanished away. I was filled with wonder and astonishment. I closed my eyes, but the impression was still the same ; and for about ten weeks, while I was awake, let me be where I would, the same appearance was still before my eyes, and the same impression upon my heart, * Thy sins are forgiven thee.' " It may be believed that Staniforth felt what he describes, and imagined what he appeared to see ; but to publish such an account as Wesley did, without one quali- fying remark, is obviously to encourage wild and danger- ous enthusiasm. SAMPSON STANII'URTII. 45 Staniforth's mother had bought him off once when he enhsted, and sent him from time to time money, and such things as he wanted and she could provide for him. He now wrote her a long letter, asking pardon of her and his father for all his disobedience ; telling them that God, for Christ's sake, had forgiven him his sins, and desiring her not to send him any more supplies, which he knew must straiten her, and which he no longer wanted, for he had learned to be contented with his pay. This letter they could not very well understand ; it was handed about till it got into the hands of a dissenting minister, and of one of the leading Methodists at Sheffield : the latter sent Stani- forth a ** comfortable letter" and a hymn-book ; the former a letter also, and a Bible, which was more precious to him than gold ; as was a prayer-book also, which his mother sent him. He, as well as Haime, came safe out of the battle of Fontenoy, where Bond was twice preserved in an extraordinary manner, one musket-ball having struck some money in one of his pockets, and another having been re- pelled by a knife. Soon afterward he was drafted into the artillery, and ordered back to England on account of the rebellion in 1745. He was now quartered at Deptford, and from thence was able, twice a-week, to attend upon Wesley's preaching at the Foundry, or at West-street Chapel. At Deptford also there was a meeting, and there he found a woman who, being of the same society, was willing to take him for a husband if he were out of the army. On his part, the match appears to have been a good one as to worldly matters : she was persuaded to marry him before his discharge was obtained; and, on his wed- ding-day, he was ordered to embark immediately for Holland. The army which he joined in Holland was under the command of Prince Charles of Lorraine ; and as they soon came within sight of the enemy, Staniforth had too much spirit to apply for his discharge, " lest he should seem afraid to fight, and so bring a disgrace upon the Gospel." Near Maestricht, two English regiments, of which his was one, with some Hanoverians and Dutch, in all about twelve thou- sand men, being. advanced in front of the army, had a sharp action. The prince, according to this account, forgot to send them orders to retreat, " being busy with his cups and his ladies ;" and it appears, indeed, as he says, that many brave lives were vilely thrown away that day by his gross 46 SAMPSON STAMFORTH. misconduct. Among them was poor Bond ; a ball went through his leg, and he fell at Staniforth's feet. '* I and another," says he, " took him in our arms, and carried him out of the ranks, while he was exhorting me to stand fast in the Lord. We laid him down, took our leave of him, and fell into our ranks again." In their farther retreat, Stanifprth again met with him, when he had received an- other ball through his thigh, and the French pressed upon them at that time so closely, that he was compelled to leave him, thus mortally wounded, " but with his heart full of love, and his eyes full of Heaven." — " There," says he, " fell a great Christian, a good soldier, and a faithful friend." When the army went into winter-quarters, Staniforth obtained his discharge for fifteen guineas, which his wife remitted him. He now settled at Deptford, became a leading man among the Methodists there, and finally a preacher in his own neighborhood, and in and about Lon- don. And however little it was to be expected from the early part of his life, and the school in which he was trained, his life was honorable to himself, and beneficial to others. ** I made it a rule," he says, " from the beginning, to bear my own expenses : this cost me ten or twelve pounds a- year ; and 1 bless God I can bear it. Beside visiting the class and band, and visiting the sick, I preach five or six times in the week. And the Lord gives me to rejoice in that I can still say, these hands have ministered to ray ne- cessities." His preaching was so well liked, that he was more than once invited to leave the Connection, and take care of a separate congregation, with a salary of J^iO or .£50 a-year : but he was attached to Methodism ; he saw that it was much injured by such separations; he was not weary of his labors ; and as to pecuniary considerations, they had no weight with him. The course of his life, and the happy state of his mind, are thus described by himself: " I pray with my wife before I go out in the morning, and at breakfast-time with my family and all who are in the house. The former part of the day I spend in my business; my spare hours in reading and private exercise. Most evenings I preach, so that I am seldom at home before nine o'clock ; but, though I am so much out at nights, and gen- erally alone, God keeps me both from evil men and evil spirits : and many times I am as fresh when I come in at night, as I was when I went out in the morning. I con- clude the day in reading the Scriptures, and in praying GEORGE STORY. 47 with my family. I am now in the sixty-third year of my age, and, glory be to God, I am not weary of well-doing. I find my desires after God stronger than ever; my under- standing is more clear in the things of God ; and my heart is united more than ever both to God and his people. I know their religion and mine is the gift of God through Christ, and the work of God by his Spirit : it is revealed in Scripture, and is received and retained by faith, in the use of all gospel ordinances. It consists in an entire dead- ness to the world and to our own will ; and an entire de- votedness of our souls, bodies, lime, and substance to God, through Christ Jesus. In other words, it is the loving the Lord our God with all our hearts, and all mankind for God's sake. This arises from a knowledge of his love to us : TVe love him, because we know he Jirst loved us ; a sense of which is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, that is given to us. From the little hereof that I have ex- perienced, I know, he that experiences this religion is a happy man." No man found his way into the Methodist connection in a quieter manner, nor brought with him a finer and more reasonable mind, than George Story, a native of Harthill, in the West Riding of Yorkshire. The circumstances of his boyhood were favorable to his disposition : his parents taught him early the fear of the Lord ; and though their instructions, he says, were tedious and irksome, yet the impression which they made was never lost, and often re- curred when he was alone, or in places of temptation. The minister of the parish also was a pious and venerable man : the solemnity with which he performed his duty im- pressed the boy with an awful sense of the divine presence ; and, when he listened to the burial-service, he had a distant prospect of judgment and eternity. Thunder and lightning filled him with a solemn delight, as a manifestation of the majesty and power of the Almighty. His heart, as well as his imagination, was open to all wholesome influences; and having one day killed a young bird by throwing a stone at it, grief and remorse for the pain which he had inflicted kept him waking during several nights; and tears and prayers to God for pardon were the only means wherein he could find relief. After a decent school education, he was placed with a country bookseller. Here, being sur- rounded with books, he read vnth insatiable and indis- criminate avidity: histories, novels, plays, and romances, 48 GEORGE STORY. were pursued "by dozens. He studied short-hand, and im- proved the knowledge which he had learned at school of geometry and trigonometry ; picked up something of ge- ography, astronomy, botany, anatomy, and other branches of physical science ; and tired himself with the Statutes at Large. The lives of the heathen philosophers delighted him so much, that at one time he resolved to take them for his models ; and Thomas Taylor or John Fransham would then have found him in a fit state to have received the mysteries of Paganism. He frequently read till eleven at night, and began again at four or five in the morning; and he always had a book before him while he was at his meals. From the shop he entered the printing-office, and, apply- ing himself sedulously to the business, learned to dispatch it with much regularity, so that he had plenty of time both for study and recreation. One summer he was an angler, the next he was a florist, and cultivated auriculas and poly- anthuses. These pursuits soon became insipid. He tried cards, and found them only implements for unprofitably consuming time; and, when led into drinking, in the midst of that folly he saw its madness, and turned from it with abhorrence. He hoped that horse-racing might be found a more manly and rational amusement ; so he attended the races at Doncaster, with the most flattering expectations of the happiness he should find that week. " The first day," says he, "vanished away without any satisfaction; the second was still worse. As I passed through the com- pany, dejected and disappointed, it occurred to my mind, What is all this immense multitude assembled here for? To see a few horses gallop two or three times round the course as if the devil were both in them and their riders ! Certainly, we are all mad, we are fit for Bedlam, if we imagine that the Almighty made us for no other purpose but to seek happiness in such senseless amusements. I was ashamed and confounded, and determined never to be seen there any more." At this time he had risen to the management of the printing-office : he had to publish a weekly newspaper, select the paragraphs from other papers, prepare the ad- vertisements, correct the press, and superintend the jour- neymen and apprentices ; an employment, he says, which flattered his vanity, increased his native pride, and conse- quently led him farther from God. For now, in the course GEORGE STORY. 49 of his desultory reading, he fell in with some of those per- nicious writers who have employed themselves in sapping the foundations of human happiness. " I read and reason- ed," says he, " till the Bible grew not only dull, but, I thought, full of contradictions. I staggered first at the divinity of Christ, and at length gave up the Bible alto- gether, and sunk into Fatalism and Deism." In this state of mind, and at the age of twenty, he went to London, in full hope of there finding the happiness of which he was in search. But new things soon became old : they palled upon him ; and, instead of happiness, an unaccountable anguish of spirit followed whenever his mind sunk back upon itself. He would gladly have gone abroad, for the sake of continual change, but it was a time of war. He resolved to try if religion would afford him relief, and went to several places of worship ; " but even this," says he, ** was in vain ; there was something dull and disagreeable wherever 1 turned my eyes, and I knew not that the mala- dy was in myself. At length I found Mr. Whitefield's chapel, in Tottenham-court-road, and was agreeably en- tertained with his manner of preaching : his discourses were so engaging, that, when I retired to my lodgings, I wrote down the substance of them in my journal, and fre- quently read them over with pleasure ; but still nothing reached my case, nor had I any light into the state of my soul. Meantime, on the week nights, I went to the thea- ters; nor could I discern any difference between Mr. Whitefield's preaching, and seeing a good tragedy." Weary of every thing, and all places being alike to him, he yielded to the persuasion of his friends, returned into the country, and thinking himself too young and inexperi- enced to enter into business for himself, as they would fain have had him do, undertook, once more, the management of a printing-office. He wanted for nothing, he had more money than he knew what to do with; yet, in his own words, he was as wretched as he could live, without knowing either the cause of this misery, or any way to escape from it. For some years he had attempted to regulate his conduct according to reason ; but even at that bar he stood con- demned. His temper was passionate ; he struggled against this, having thus far profited by the lessons of the Stoics ; and greatly was he pleased when he obtained a victory over his own anger; but, upon sudden temptation, all his resolutions were **as a thread of flax before the fire." He VOL. II. — C 50 GEORGE STORY. mixed with jovial company, and endeavored to catch their spirit ; but, in the midst of levity, there was a weight and hollowTiess within him : experience taught him that this laughter was madness ; and when he returned to sober thoughts, he found into how deep a melancholy a simulated mirth subsides. He wandered to different places of wor- ship, and found matter of disquiet at all ; at length he forsook them all, and shut himself up on Sundays, or went into the solitude of a neighboring wood. " Here," says he, " I considered, with the closest attention I was able, the arguments for and against Deism. I would gladly have given credit to the Christian revelation, but could not. My reason leaned on the wrong side, and involved me in endless perplexities. I likewise endeavored to for- tify myself with stronger arguments and firmer resolutions against my evil tempers ; for, since I could not be a Christ- ian, I wished, however, to be a good moral heathen. In- ternal anguish frequently compelled me to supplicate the Divine Being for mercy and truth. I seldom gave over till ray heart was melted, and I felt something of God's presence ; but I retained those gracious impressions only for a short time." It so happened that he was employed to abridge and print the life of Eugene Aram, a remarkable man, who was executed for a case of murder, in a strange manner brought to light long after the commission of the crime. The account of this person's extraordinary attainments kindled Story with emulation, and he had determined to take as much pains himself in the acquirement of knowledge, when some thoughts fastened upon his mind, and broke in pieces all his schemes. " The wisdom of this world," said he to himself, " is foolishness with God. What did this man's wisdom profit him ] It did not save him from being a thief and a murderer ; — no, nor from attempting his own life. True wisdom is foolishness with men. He that will be wise, must first become a fool, that he may be wise. I was like a man awakened out of sleep," he continues : " I was astonished ; I felt myself wrong ; I was conscious I had been pursuing a vain shadow, and that God only could direct me into the right path. I therefore applied to him with earnest importunity, entreating him to show me the true way to happiness, which I was determined to follow, however difficult or dangerous." Just at this time Method- ism began to flourish in his native village: his mother joined GEORGE STORY. 51 the Society, and sent him a message, entreating h'lm to con- verse with persons of this description. To gratify her, be- ing an obedient son, he called accordingly at a Methodist's house, and the persons who were assembled there went to prayer with him, and for him, a considerable time. The result was, as might be expected, — he looked upon them as well meaning, ignorant people, and thought no more about the matter. After a few days they desired he would come again ; and he, considering that it was his mother's request, went without hesitation, though perhaps not very desirous of being prayed for a second time. On this occa- sion, however, argument was tried ; and he disputed with them for some hours, till they were fairly wearied, without having produced the slightest impression upon him. To attack him on the side of his reason, was not indeed the way by which such reasoners were likely to prevail ; such a proceeding would sei*ve only to stimulate his vanity, and provoke his pride ; and accordingly he was about to with- draw, not a little elevated with the triumph which he had obtained, when a woman of the company desired to ask him a few questions. The first was, " Are you happy V His countenance instantly fell, and he honestly answered, "No." — " Are you not desirous of finding happiness V* she pur- sued. He replied, that he was desirous of obtaining it, on any terms, and had long sought for it in every way, but in vain. She then told him, that if he sought the Lord with all his heart, he would certainly find in Him that peace and pleasure which the world could not bestow. The right string had now been touched : every word sunk deep into his mind; and he says, that from that moment he never lost his resolution of being truly devoted to God. The books which had misled him he cast into the fire ; and willing as he now was to be led astray in a different direction, by his new associates, his happy disposition pre- served him. Not having the horrible fears, and terrors, and agonies which others declared they had experienced in the new-birth, and of which exhibitions were frequently occurring, he endeavored to bring himself into the same state, but never could succeed in inducing these throes of spiritual labor. Yet thinking it a necessary part of the process of regeneration, and not feeling that consciousness of sanctification which his fellows professed, doubts came upon him thick and thronging. Sometimes he fell back toward his old skepticism : sometimes inclined to the mis- 52 GEORGE STORY. erable notion of predestination; plunging, as he himself expresses it, into the blackness of darkness. He found at length the folly of reasoning himself into despair, and the unreasonableness of expecting a miraculous 'manifestation in his own bodily feelings; and he learned, in the true path of Christian humility, to turn from all presumptuous rea- sonings, and, staying his mind upon God, to repose and trust in him with a childlike entireness of belief and love. This was at first mortifying to his proud reason and vain imagination ; but it brought with it, at length, " an ever permanent peace, which kept his heart in the knowledge and love of God ;" not the overflowing joys which he ex- pected, and had been taught to expect, by enthusiastic men ; but that peace which God himself hath assured to all who seek him in humility and truth, and which passeth all understanding. There is not, in the whole hagiography of Methodism, a more interesting or more remarkable case than this : — living among the most enthusiastic Methodists, enrolled among them, and acting and preaching with them for more than fifty years, George Story never became an en- thusiast : his nature seems not to have been susceptible of the contagion.* * The instance of George Story, and of many others, proves that such joys, such sensible deliverances, such sudden openings of a before un- known and glorious state of being, are no essential, nor even regular marks, accompaniments, or results of a true conversion. It may be ad- mitted too, that in such extraordinary depths and heights, the body and nervous system may cooperate — that the animal life may furnish the matter of the sensations, and the copula connecting the soul and the life may be the seat of these experiences. But does it follow that they all originate in fanaticism, and are mere delusions? — that such men as Story were alone in their sober senses ; though one proof of their so- briety was, that they did not doubt the different experiences of other Christians, whose lives and tempers proved the reality of their ^erdvota at least? — and that Haliburton, nay, that Paul, were mad or delirious? For whatever may be said of the circumstances of St. Paul's conversion, yet his rapture, in which he knew not whether he was taken up into the state of glory, or that state made present to him, can not, in South- ey's sense of the word, be called a miracle. August, 1825. I do not recollect the date of the above note : but I take no shame to myself for the mood in which it must have been written ! For who, that has a heart at all, has a heart of such strength as not at times to sink down in weariness, and crave after a resting-place — a sensation of present being, in lieu of the act and conflict of faith ? On this ac- count I am less disposed to think meanly of Wesley's judgment for his first belief in the reality of these assurances, and their antecedent birth- throes, while he held them to be the constant signs and proper conse- quents of regeneration in each and e»cry individual on the reception of GEORGE STORY. 53 a new and divine life, as the nature or supposition of his spiritual " I," than to suspect his sincerity with his own heart, for professing (and, no doubt, striving^ to retain his belief of the spirituality and divine origin of these experiences in his first converts, after he had abandoned, nay reprobated, the supposition of their necessity and universality. This wUl appear evident on the first reflection. If the corporeal sensibiUty is as insusceptible of any excitement immediately from the presence of the spiritual agent, as brass or iron is of vital stimuli, the negative must be universally true : but if not, if there is nothing in the transcendencies of the spiritual life and power that prevents the bodily organs from par- taking in their operation, it is to the last degree improbable that so stu- pendous an agency should take place without alfecting the body. It has not been noticed, I think, that this doctrine of sensational assurances is closely linked with Wesley's pernicious doctrine of entire deliverance from sin. If the latter were true, the radical life of the body, and the body itself, in all its essential forms, must have been acted on by the infused spiritual life, and consequently have reacted : therefore the former must likewise be true and universal. And if the former were true, namely, that the higher and mightier power did actually excite and act on the lower, it must have overcome it, and either extruded or assimilated it. For such is of necessity the result, where a weaker or stronger power meet, both being ejusdem generis. It follows, there- fore, that the belief of these sensible assurances is not a mere harmless fancy ; but partakes of the mischievous nature of Wesley's heresy of sinless perfection in this life, in as far as the one implies or presupposes the other.— S. T. C. CHAPTER XIX. PROVISION FOR THE LAY PREACHERS AND THEIR FAMILIES. KINGS WOOD SCHOOL. THE CONFERENCE. At first there was no provision made for the lay preach- ers. The enthusiasts who offered themselves to the work literally took no thought for the morrow, what they should eat, nor what they should drink, nor yet for the body, what they should put on. They trusted in Him who feedeth the fowls of the air, and who sent his ravens to Elijah in the wilderness. " He who had a staff," says one of these first itinerants, " might take one ; he who had none might go without." They were lodged and fed by some of the So- ciety wherever they went ; and when they wanted clothes, if they were not supplied by individual friends, they repre- sented their necessity to the stewards. St. Francis and his followers did not commit themselves with more confi- dence to the care of Providence, nor with a more entire disregard of all human means. But the Friars Minorite were marked by their habit for privileged as well as pe- culiar persons ; and as they professed poverty, the poorer and the more miserable their appearance, the greater was the respect which they obtained from the people. In Eng- land, rags were no recommendation ; and it was found a great inconvenience that the popular itinerants should be clothed in the best apparel, while the usefulness of their fellows, who were equally devoted to the cause, was les- sened by the shabbiness of their appearance. To remedy this evil, it was at length agreed that every circuit should allow its preacher 663 per quarter, to provide himself with clothing and books. Not long after this arrangement had been made, Mr. Wesley proposed that Mather should go with him into Ireland on one of his preaching expeditions, and promised that his wife should be supported during his absence. Mather cheerfully consented ; but when he came to talk with his friends upon the subject, they cautioned him to beware how he relied for his wife's support upon a PROVISION FOR THE LAY PREACHERS, ETC. 55 mere promise of this kind ; for, when Mr. Wesley was gone, the matter would rest with the stewards. Upon this, Mather thought it necessary to talk with the stewards him- self: they asked him how much would be sufficient for his wife ; and when he said four shillings a-week, they thought it more than could be afforded ; and Mather therefore re- fused to undertake the journey. However, in the course of the ensuing year, the necessity of making some provision for the wives of the itinerants was clearly perceived, and the reasonableness of Mather's demand was acknowledged. He was called upon to travel accordingly; and from that time the stated allowance was continued for very many years at the sum which he had fixed. A further allowance was made, of twenty shillings a-quarter, for every child ; and when a preacher was at home, the wife was entitled to eighteen-pence a-day for his board ; the computation being fourpence for breakfast, sixpence for dinner, and fourpence each for tea and supper ; with the condition, that whenever he was invited out, a deduction was to be made for the meal. But further relief was still necessary for those married preachers who gave themselves up wholly to the service of Methodism. Their boys, when they grew too big to be under the mother's direction, were in a worse state than other children, and were exposed to a thousand tempta- tions, having no father to control and instruct them. " Was it fit," said Wesley, that the children of those who leave wife, home, and all that is dear, to save souls from death, should want what is needful either for soul or body 1 Ought not the Society to supply what the parent could not, because of his labors in the Gospel 1 The preacher, eased of this weight, would go on the more cheerfully, and perhaps many of these children might, in time, fill up the place of those who should have rested from their labors." The ob- vious remedy was to found a school for the sons of the preachers ; and thinking that the wealthier members of the Society would rejoice if an opportunity were given them to separate their children from the contagion of the world, he seems to have hoped that the expenses of the eleemosynary part of the institution might in great measure be defrayed by their means. Some tracts upon education had led him to consider the defects of English schools : the mode of teaching, defective as that is, he did not regard ; it was the moral discipline 56 KINGSWOOD SCHOOL. which fixed his attention; and in founding a seminaiy for his own people, whose steady increase he now contem- plated as no longer doubtful, he resolved to provide, as far as possible, against all the evils of the existing institutions. The first point was to find a situation not too far from a great rown, which would be veiy inconvenient for so large a household as he was about to establish, nor yet too near, and much less in it. For in towns the boys, whenever they went abroad, would have too many things to engage their thoughts, which ought, he said, to be diverted as little as possible from the objects of their learning ; and they would have too many other children round about them, some of whom they were liable to meet every day, whose example would neither forward them in learning nor in religion. He chose a spot three miles from Bristol, in the middle of Kingswood, on the side of a small hill, sloping to the west, sheltered from the east and north, and affording room for large gardens. At that time it was quite private and re- mote from all highways : now the turnpike road passes close beside it, and it is surrounded by a filthy population. He built the house of a size to contain fifty children, be- side masters and servants, reserving one room and a little study for his own use. In looking for masters he had the advantage of being acquainted with every part of the nation ; and yet he found it no easy thing to procure such as he desired, — men of competent acquirements, " who were truly devoted to God, who sought nothing on earth, neither pleasure, nor ease, nor profit, nor the praise of men." The first rule respect- ing scholars was, that no child should be admitted after he was twelve years old ; before that age, it was thought he could not well be rooted either in bad habits or ill princi- ples ; he resolved also not to receive any that came to hand ; but, if possible, " only such as had some thoughts of God, and some desire of saving their souls ; and such whose parents desired they should not be almost, but alto- gether Christians." The proposed object was, " to answer the design of Christian education, by framing their minds, through the help of God, to wdsdom and holiness, by in- stilling the principles of true religion, speculative and pi'ac- tical, and training them up in the ancient way, that they might be rational, scriptural Christians." Accordingly he proclaimed, that the children of tender parents had no busi- ness there, and that no child should be received, unless his KINGSWOOD SCHOOL. 57 parents would agree that he should observe all the rules of the house, and that they would not take him from school, no, not for a day, till they took him for good and all. ** The reasonableness of this uncommon rule," says Wesley, ** is shown by constant experience ; for children may unlearn as much in one week, as they have learned in several ; nay, and contract a prejudice to exact discipline, which never can be removed." Had Wesley been a father, he would have perceived that such a rule is unreasonable, and felt that it is abominable ; uncommon, unhappily it is not ; for it makes a part of the Jesuit establishments, and was adopted also by Bonaparte, as part of his plan for training up an army of Mamelukes in Europe. No rule could better forward the purpose of those who desire to enslave mankind. The children were to rise at four, winter and summer; this, Wesley said he knew, by constant observation and by long experience, to be of admirable use, either for preserv- ing a good or improving a bad constitution, and he affirmed that it was of peculiar service in almost all nervous com- plaints, both in preventing and in removing them. They ■were to spend the time till five in private, partly in read- ing, partly in singing, partly in prayer, and in self-exami- nation and meditation, those that were capable of it. Poor boys ! they had better have spent it in sleep. From five till seven they breakfasted and walked, or worked, the master being with them ; for the master was constantly to be present ; and there were no holydays, and no play, on any day. Wesley had learned a sour German proverb, saying, " He that plays when he is a child, will play when he is a man ;" and he had forgotten an English one, pro- ceeding from good-nature and good sense, which tells us by what kind of discipline Jack may be made a dull boy : " Why," he asks, " should he learn, now, what he must unlearn by and by V Why 1 for the same reason that he is fed with milk when a suckling, because it is the food convenient for him. They were to work in fair weather, according to their strength, in the garden ; on rainy days, in the house, always in presence of a master ; for they were never, day or night, to be alone. This part of his sys- tem, Wesley adopted from the great school at Jena, in Saxony; it is the practice of Catholic schools, and may, perhaps, upon a comparison of evils, be better than the opposite extreme, which leaves the boys, during the greater 58 KlNGSWOCD SCHOOL. part of their time, wholly without superintendence. At a great expense of instinct and enjoyment, and of that freedom of character, without which the best character can only obtain from us a cold esteem, it gets rid of much vice, much cruelty, and much unhappiness. The school-hours were from seven to eleven, and from one to five ; eight was the hour for going to bed ; they slept in one dormitory, each in a separate bed ; a master lay in the same room, and a lamp was kept burning there. Their food was as simple as possible, and two days in the week no meat was al- lowed. The things to be taught there make a formidable cata- logue in the founder's plan : reading, writing, arithmetic ; English, French, Latin, Greek, Hebrew; history, geogra- phy, chronology, rhetoric, logic, ethics, geometry, algebra; natural philosophy, and metaphysics. No Roman author was to be read, who had lived later than the Augustan age, except certain selections from Juvenal, Persius, and Martial. This was carrying classical pui-itanism to an ex- treme ; and it indicates no very sound judgment that Wesley should have preferred a few of the modern Latin writers to supply the place of those whom he rejected. The classics which were retained were to be carefully ex- purgated : there had been a time when he was for inter- dicting them altogether, as improper to be used in the ed- ucation of Christian youth, but this folly he had long outgrown. He was enabled to establish the school by the bounty of Lady Maxwell, one of his few converts in high life. She was of the family of the Brisbanes, in Ayrshire ; was mar- ried to Sir Walter Maxwell at the age of seventeen ; at nineteen was left a widow; and, six weeks after the death of her husband, lost her son and only child. From- that hour she was never known to mention either. Weaned from the world by these severe dispensations, she looked for comfort to Him who giveth and who taketh away ; and what little of her diary has appeared, shows more of high enthusiastic devotion, unmingled and undebased, than is to be found in any other composition of the kind. She used to say, that, had it not been for the Methodists, she should never have had those enjoyments in religion to which she had attained ; because it is seldom or never that we go far- ther than our instructors teach us. It was, however, many years before she formally joined them, and she never for- KINGSWOOD SCHOOL. 50 sook the Church of Scotland. She lived to be the oldest member of the Society. The school was founded long be- fore she became a member ; but Wesley had no sooner mentioned his design to her, than she presented him with bank notes to the amount of <£500, and told him to begin immediately. After some time she asked how the building was going on, and whether he stood in need of further as- sistance ; and hearing that a debt of c£300 had been incur- red, though he desired that she would not consider herself under any obligation in the business, she immediately gave him the whole sum. The school was opened in 1748 ; in two or three months there were twenty-eight scholars, notwithstanding the strict- ness of the discipline ; and so little was economy in educa- tion understood in those days, that there was an establish- ment of six masters for them. " From the very beginning," says Wesley, " I met with all sorts of discouragements. Cavilers, and prophets of evil, were on eveiy side. A hundred objections were made, both to the whole design and every particular branch of it, especially by those from whom I had reason to expect better things. Notwith- standing which, through God's help, I went on ; wrote an English, a Latin, a Greek, a Hebrew, and a French gram- mar ; and printed PrcBlectiones Pueriles, with many other books, for the use of the school." In making his grammars, Wesley rejected much of the rubbish with which such books are incumbered ; they might have been simplified still further ; but it was reserved for Dr. Bell, the friend of chil- dren, to establish the principle in education, that every les- son should be made perfectly intelligible to the child. Upon visiting the school a year after its establishment, he found that several rules had been habitually neglected ; and he judged it necessary to send away some of the chil- dren, and suffer none to remain who were not clearly sat- isfied with them, and determined to observe them all. By the second year the scholars had been reduced from twen- ty-eight to eighteen ; it is marvelous, indeed, that any but the sons of the preachers should have remained ; that any parents should have suffered their children to be bred up in a manner which would inevitably, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, either disgust them with religion, or make them hypocrites. " I wonder," says he, ** how I am withheld from dropping the whole design, so many difficul- ties have continually attended it ; yet if this counsel 19 of 60 THE CONFEEENCE. God, it shall stand, and all binderances shall turn into bless- ings." The house was in a state of complete anarchy. One of the masters was so rough and disobliging, that the children were little profited by him ; a second, though honest and diligent, was rendered contemptible by his person- and manner; the third had been useful, till the fourth set the boys against him ; and the two others were weighed down by the rest, who neither observed the rules in the school nor out of it. To crown all, the housekeeper neglected her duty, being taken up with thoughts of another kind ; and the four maids were divided into two parties. This pitiful case he published for the information of the Society, and cut down the establishment to two masters, a housekeeper, and a maid. Two of the elder boys were dis- missed as incorrigible, out of four or five who were " very uncommonly wicked" (a very uncommon proportion of wicked boys out of eighteen), and five more soon went away. Still it went on badly : four years afterward he speaks of endeavoring once more to bring it into order. "Surely," he says, "the importance of this design is appa- ] ent, even from the difficulties that attend it. I spent more money, and time, and care on this than almost any design I ever had, and still it exercises all the patience I have. But it is worth all the labor." Provision had thus been made for the maintenance of the preachers' families, and the education of their sons. A Conference, to which Wesley, in the year 1744, invited his brother Charles, four other clergymen, who cooperated with him, and four of his lay preachers, was from that time held annually, and became the general assembly, in which the affairs of the Society were examined and determined. They began their first meeting by recording their desire, " that all things might be considered as in the immediate presence of God ; that they might meet with a single eye, and as little children who had every thing to learn ; that every point which was proposed might be examined to the foundation ; that every person might speak freely whatever was in his heart ; and that every question which might arise should be thoroughly debated and settled." There was no reason, they said, to be afraid of doing this, lest they should overturn their first principles ; for if they were false, the sooner they were overturned the better ; if they were true, they would bear the strictest examination. They determined, in the intermediate hours of this Conference, THE CONFERENCE. 61 to visit none but the sick, and to spend all the time that re- mained in retirement ; giving themselves to prayer for one another, and for a blessing upon this their labor. With re- gard to the judgment of the majority, they agreed that, in speculative things, each could only submit so far as his judgment should be convinced ; and that, in every practi- cal point, each would submit, so far as he could, without wounding his conscience. Farther than this, they main- tained, a Christian could not submit to any man or number of men upon earth ; either to council, bishop, or convoca- tion. And this was that grand principle of private judg- ment on which all the reformers proceeded. ** Every man must judge for himself ; because every man must give an account for himself to God." But this principle, if followed to its full extent, is as unsafe and untenable as the opposite extreme of the Romanists. The design of this meeting was, to consider what to teach, how to teach, and what to do ; in other words, how to regulate their doctrines, disci- pline, and practice. Here, therefore, it will be convenient to present a connected account of each. CHAPTER XX. Wesley's doctrines and opinions. Wesley never departed willingly or knowingly from the doctrines of the Church of England, in which he had been trained up. and with which he was conscientiously satisfied, after full and free inquiry. Upon points which have not been revealed, but are within the scope of reason, he formed opinions for himself, which were generally clear, consistent with the Christian system, and creditable, for the most part, both to his feelings and his judgment. But he laid no stress upon them, and never proposed them for more than they were worth. In the following connected view of his scheme, care has been taken to preserve his own words, as far as possible, for the sake of fidelity.* » It is matter of earnest thought and deep concernment to me — and he little knows my heart who shall find the spirit of authorship in what I am about to say — to think that thousands will read this chapter, or the substance of it, in the writings of Wesley himself, and never com- plain of obscurity, or that it is, as Hone called my " Aids to Reflection," a proper brain-cracker. And why is this ? In the words I use, or their collocation ? Not so : for no one has pointed out any passage of importance, which he having at length understood, he could propose other and more intelligible words that would have conveyed precisely the same meaning. No ! Wesley first relates his theory as a history : the ideas were for him, and through him for his readers, so many proper names, the substratum of meaning being supplied by the general image and abstraction, of the human form with the swarm of associations that cluster in it. Wesley takes for granted that his readers will all under- stand it, all at once, and without effort. The readers are far too well pleased with this, or rather, this procedure is far too much in accord both with their mental indolence and their self-complacency, that they should think of asking themselves the question. Reflect on the simple fact of the state of a child's mind while with great delight he reads or listens to the story of Jack and the Bean Stalk ! How could this be, if in some sense he did not understand it ? Yea, the child does under- stand each part of it — A, and B, and C ; but not A B C = X. He un- derstands it as we all understand our dreams, while we are dreaming — each shape and incident, or group of shapes and incidents, by itself — unconscious of, and therefore unotTended at, the absence of the logical copula, or the absurdity of the transitions. He understands it, in short, as the READING PUBLIC Understands this exposition of Wesley's theology. WESLEY*S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 63 The moral, or, as he sometimes calls it, the Adamic law, he traced beyond the foundation of the world, to that pe- riod, unknown indeed to men, but doubtless enrolled in the annals of eternity, when the morning stars first sung Now compare this with the manner, and even obtruded purpose of the " Friend," oi: the " Aids to Reflection," in which the aim of every sentence is to solicit, nay, tease the reader to ask himself, whether he actually does, or does not, understand distinctly 1 — whether he has reflected on the precise meaning of the word, however familiar it may be both to his ear and mouth? — whether he has been hitherto aware of the mischief and folly of employing words on questions, to know the very truth of which is both his interest and his duty, without fixing the one meaning which on that question they are to represent? Page after page, for a reader accustomed from childhood either to learn by rote, i. e., without under- standing at all, as boys learn their Latin grammar, or to content him- self with the popular use of words, always wide and general, and ex- pressing a whole county where perhaps the point in discussion con- cerns the difference between two parishes of the same county ! (ear. gr., MIND, which in the popular use means, sometimes memory, sometimes reason, sometimes understanding, sometimes sense {aladrjaLg), some- times inclination, and sometimes all together, confusedly,) — for such a reader, I repeat, page after page is a process of mortification and awk- ward straining. Will any one instruct me how this is to be remedied 1 Will he refer me to any work, already published, which has achieved the objects at which I aim, without exciting the same complaints ? But then I should wish my friendly monitor to show me, at the same time, some one of these uncomplaining readers, and convince me that he is actually master of the truth contained in that work — be it Plato's, Bacon's or Bull's or Waterland's. Alas ! alas ! with a poor, illiterate, but conscience-stricken, or soul-awakened Haime, or Pawson, I should find few difficulties beyond those that are the price of all momentous knowledge. For while I was demonstrating the inner structure of our spiritual organisms, he would have his mental eye fixed on the same subject, i. e., his own mind; even as an anatomist may be dissecting a human eye, and the pupils too far off" to see this, may yet be dissecting another eye, closely following the instructions of the lecturer, and com- paring his words with the shapes and textures which the knife discloses to them. But in the great majority of our gentry, and of our classically educated clergy, there is a fearful combination of the sensuous and the unreal. Whatever is subjective, the true and only proper novmenon, or intelligibile, is unintelligible to them. But all substance ipso nomine is necessarily subjective ; and what these men call reality, is object un- souled of all subject; of course, an appearance only, which becomes connected with the sense of reality by its being common to any num- ber of beholders present at the same moment ; but an apparitio commu- nis is still but an apparition, and can be substantiated for each individ- ual only by his attributing a subject thereto, as its support and causa sufficiens, even as the community of the appearance is the sign and pre- sumptive proof of its objectivity. In short, I would fain bring the cause I am pleading to a short and simple, yet decisive test. Consciousness, eifit, mind, life, will, body, organ ^ machine, nature, spirit, sin, habit, sense, understanding, reason : here are fourteen words. Have you ever reflectively and quietly asked yourself the meaning of any one of these, 64 Wesley's doctrines and opinions. together, being newly called into existence. It pleased the Creator to make these His first-bom sons intelligent beings, that they might know Him who created them. For this end he endued them with understanding to discern truth from falsehood, good from evil ; and, as a necessary result of this, with liberty, — a capacity of choosing the one, and refusing the other. By this they were likewise enabled to offer Him a free and willing service ; a service reward- able in itself, as well as most acceptable to their gracious Master. The law which He gave them was a complete model of all truth, so far as was intelligible to a finite be- ing; and of all good, so far as angelic natures were capable of embracing it. And it was His design herein to make way for a continued increase of their happiness, seeing every instance of obedience to that law would both add to the perfection of their nature, and entitle them to a higher reward, which the righteous Judge would give in its season. In like manner, when God, in His appointed time, had created a new order of intelligent beings — when He had raised man from the dust of the earth, breathed into him the breath of life, and caused him to become a living soul. He gave to this free intelligent creature the same law as to his first-born children ; not written, indeed, upon tables of stone, or any corruptible substance, but engraven on his heart by the finger of God, written in the inmost spirit, both of men and angels, to the intent it might never be afar off, never hard to be understood, but always at hand, and always shining with clear light, even as the sun in the midst of heaven. Such was the original of the law of God. With regard to man, it was coeval with his nature ; but and tasked yourself to return the answer in distinct terms, not applica- ble to any one of the other words ? Or have you contented yourself with the vague, floating meaning, that will just serve to save you from absurdity in the use of the word, just as the clown's botany would do, who knew that potatoes were roots, and cabbages greens ? Or, if you have the gift of wit, shelter yourself under Augustin's equivocation, " I know it perfectly well till I am asked." Know ? Ay, as an oyster knows its life. But do you know your knowledge ? If the latter be your case, can you wonder that the ** Aids to Reflection" are clouds and darkness for you ? — S. T. C. [The cause of the obscurity of Wesley's doctrine, complained of by Coleridge, may be explained by one short passage of Scripture, viz. : " At that time Jesus answered and said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the vnse and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes." — Matt , xi., 25.— Ain.Ed-l Wesley's doctrines and opinions. 65 with regard to the elder sons of God, it shone in its full splendor, " or ever the mountains were brought forth, or the earth, and the round world were made." ' Man was made holy, as He that created him is holy : perfect, as his Father in heaven is perfect. As God is love, so man, dwelling in love, dwelt in God, and God in him. God made him to be an image of his own eternity. To man, thus perfect, God gave a perfect law, to which He required full and perfect obedience in every point. No allowance was made for any falling short : there was no need of any, man being altogether equal to the task assign- ed him. Man disobeyed this law, and from that moment he died. God had told him, " In the day that thou eatest of that fruit thou shalt surely die." Accordingly, on that day he did die : he died to God, the most dreadful of all deaths. He lost the life of God : he was separated from Him in union with whom his spiritual life consisted. His soul died. The body dies when it is separated from the soul ; the soul, when it is separated from God : but this separation Adam sustained in the day, the hour, when he ate of the forbidden fruit. The threat can not be under- stood of temporal death, without impeaching the veracity of God. It must, therefore, be understood of spiritual death, the loss of the life and image of God. His body likewise became corruptible and mortal; and being already dead in the spirit, dead to God, dead in sin, he hastened on to death everlasting, to the destruction both of body and soul, in the fire never to be quenched. Why was this ] Why are there sin and misery in the world ] Because man was created in the image of God : because he is not mere matter, a clod of earth, a lump of clay, without sense or understanding, but a spirit, like his Creator ; a being endued not only with sense and under- standing, but also with a will. Because, to crown the rest, he was endued with liberty, a power of directing his own affections and actions, a capacity of determining for him- self, or of choosing good or evil. Had not man been en- dued with this, all the rest would have been of no use. Had he not been. a free, as well as an intelligent being, his understanding would have been as incapable of holiness, or any kind of virtue, as a tree or a block of marble. And having this power of choosing good or evil, he chose evil. But in Adam all died, and this was the natural consequence of his fall. He was more than the representative, or fed- 66 Wesley's doctrines and opinions. eral head, of the human race, — the seed and souls* of all mankind were contained in him, and therefore partook of the corruption of his nature. From that time every man who is born into the world bears the image of the devil, in pride and self-will, — the image of the beast, in sensual ap- petites and desires. All his posterity were, by this act and deed, entitled to eiTor, guilt, sorrow, fear, pain, disease, and death, and these they have inherited for their portion. The cause has been revealed to us, and the effects are seen over the whole world, and felt in the heart of every indi- vidual. But this is no ways inconsistent with the justice and goodness of God, because all may recover, through the second Adam, whatever they lost through the first. Not one child of man finally loses thereby, unless by his own choice. A remedy has been provided, which is ade- quate to the disease. Yea, more than this, mankind have gained, by the fall, a capacity, first, of being more holy and happy on earth ; and, secondly, of being more happy in heaven than otherwise they could have been.t For if man had not fallen, there must have been a blank in our faith and in our love. There could have been no such thing as faith in God " so loving the world, that he gave his only Son for us men, and for our salvation ;" no faith in the Son of God, as loving us, and giving himself for us ; no faith in the Spirit of God, as renewing the image of God in our hearts, or raising us from the death of sin unto the life of righteousness. And the same blank must likewise have been in our love. We could not have loved the Father under the nearest and dearest relation, as delivering up his Son for us : we could not have loved the Son, as bearing our sins in his own body on the tree, and by that one oblation of himself, once offered, making a full oblation, sacrifice, and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world : we could not have loved the Holy Ghost, as revealing to us the Father and the Son, as opening the eyes of our * [Not the souls; Wesley never taught this; but that each individ- ual of the human race, though derived from a common stock, has a per- sonal being, that is, is a soul, only after his derivation from the parent stock. — Am. Ed.'\ t [We can see certain privileges apparently pecuhar to our redeemed estate, but w^e are not certain that there may not have been privileges of equal value peculiar to man's original state of purity. The whole subject lies rather beyond the limits of clear revelation, w^here specu- lations must necessarily be without authority, and are generally incor- rect in their results. — Am.. Ed."] WESLEv'rf DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. G7 understandings, bringing us ou^ of darkness into his mar- velous light, renewing the image of God in our soul,* and sealing us unto the day of redemption. So that what is now, in the sight of God, pure religion and undefiled, would then have had no being. The fall of man is the very foundation of revealed reli- gion. If this be taken away, the Christian system is sub- verted ; nor will it deserve so honorable an appellation as that of a cunningly devised fable. It is a scriptural doc- trine : many plain texts directly teach it. It is a rational doctrine, thoroughly consistent with sound reason, though there may be some circumstances relating to it which human reason can not fathom. It is a practical doctrine, having the closest connection with the life, power, and practice of religion. It leads man to the foundation of all Christian practice, the knowledge of himself, and thereby to the knowledge of God, and of Christ crucified. It is an experimental doctrine. The sincere Christian carries the proof of it in his own bosom. Thus Wesley reasoned ; and, from the corruption of man's nature, or, in his own view of the doctrine, from the death of the soul, he inferred the necessity of a New Birth.t He had made that expres- sion obnoxious in the season of his enthusiasm, and it was one of those things which embarrassed him in his sober and maturer years ; but he had committed himself too far to retract ; and therefore when he saw, and in his own cool judgment disapproved, the extravagances to which the abuse of the term had led, he still continued to use it, and even pursued the metaphor through all its bearings, with a w^antonness of ill directed fancy, of which this is the only instance in all his writings.f And in attempting to recon- cile the opinion which he held with the doctrine of the Church, he entangled himself in contradictions,! like a man catching at all arguments, when defending a cause which he knows to be weak and untenable. ♦ [See Appendix, Note III.— Am. Ed.] t [See Appendix, Note IV. — Am. Ed.] X [He certainly had good company in the folly of his choice of terms, as well as in his " wantonness of ill directed fancy," for this metaphor is more frequently employed in the New Testament, than any other. As to his " contradictions," his nearest approaches to them were made by his endeavoring to reconcile the semi-Romanism of the Church of England with the evangelical truths that he had learned from the New Testament. — Am. Ed.] $ [See Appendix, Note V. — Am. Ed.] 68 Wesley's doctrines and opixions. Connected with his doctrine of the New Birth was that of Justification, which he affirmed to be inseparable from it, yet easily to be distinguished, as being not the same, but of a widely different nature. In order of time, neither of these is before the other: in the moment we are justified by the grace of God, through the redemption that is in Jesus, we are also born of the Spirit; but in order of thinking, as it is termed, Justification precedes the New Birth. We first conceive his wrath to be turned away, and then his Spirit to work in our hearts. Justification implies only a relative, the New Birth a real change. God in justifying us, does something for us ; in begetting us again. He does the work in us. The former changes our outward relation to God, so that of enemies we become children. By the latter, our inmost souls are changed, so that of sinners we become saints. The one restores us to the favor, the other to the image, of God. Justification is another word for pardon. It is the forgiveness of all our sins, and, what is necessarily implied therein, our accept- ance with God. The immediate effects are, the peace of God, — a peace that passeth all understanding ; and a *' rejoicing in hope of the glory of God, with joy unspeak- able and full of glory." And at the same time that we are justified, yea, in that very moment, sanctification begins. In that instant we are born again ; and when we are bom again, then our sanctification begins, and thenceforward we are gradually to *' grow up in Him who is our head." This expression, says Wesley, points out the exact analogy there is between natural and spiritual things. A child is born of a woman in a moment, or, at least, in a very short time. Afterward, he gradually and slowly grows till he attains to the stature of a man. In like manner a person is born of God in a short time, if not in a moment ; but it is by slow degrees that he afterward grows up to the measure of the full stature of Chiist. The same relation, therefore, which there is between our natural birth and our growth, there is also between our New Birth and our Sanctification. And sanctification, though in some degree the immediate fruit of justification, is a distinct gift of God, and of a totally different nature. The one implies what God does for us through his Son; the other, what he works in us by his Spirit. Men are no more able, of themselves, to think one good thought, to speak one good word, or do one good work, after justification, than before they were justified. WESLEv'd DOCTRINES AND OPINIONd. CO When the Lord speaks to our hearts the second time, * Be clean,''' then only the evil root, the carnal mind, is de- stroyed, and sin subsists no more. A deep conviction, that there is yet in us a carnal mind, shows, beyond all possibil- ity of doubt, the absolute necessity of a further change. If there be no such second change, if there be no instantane- ous deliverance after justification, if there be none but a gradual work of God, then we must be content, as well as we can, to remain full of sin till death; and if so, we must remain guilty till death, continually deserving punishment. Thus Wesley explains a doctrine which, in his old age, he admitted that he did not find a profitable subject for an unawakened congregation.* This deliverance, he acknowledged, might be gradually wrought in some. I mean, he says, in this sense, they do not advert to the particular moment wherein sin ceases to be. But it is infinitely desirable, were it the will of God, that it should be done instantaneously; that the Lord should destroy sin in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye. And so he generally does. This, Wesley insisted, was a plain fact, of which there was evidence enough to satisfy any unprejudiced person. And why might it not be instanta- neous % he argued.t A moment is to Him the same as a thousand years. He can not want more time to accomplish whatever is his will : and he can not wait or stay for more worthiness or fitness in the persons he is pleased to honor. Whatever may be thought of the doctrine and of its evi- dence, it was a powerful one in Wesley's hands. To the confidence, he says that God is both able and willing to sanctify us now: there needs to be added one thing more, a divine evidence and conviction that he doth it. In that hour it is done. " Thou, therefore, look for it every moment : you can be no worse, if you are no better, for that expec- tation ; for were you to be disappointed of your hope, still you lose nothing. But you shall not be disappointed of your hope : it will come, it will not tarry. Look for it then every day, every hour, every moment. Why not this hour % this moment \ Certainly you may look for it now, if you believe it is by faith. And by this token you may ♦ [Where does Wesley demand an instantaneous deliverance as op- posed to a jjradual one ? Though he held such a deliverance to be the privilege of believers, he did not insist that none could come more gradually to the same blessed privileges. — Am. Ed.'\ t [See Appendix, Note VI. — Am. Ed.] 70 Wesley's doctrines and oplvigns. surely know whethei' you seek it by faith or works.* If by works, you want something to be done first, before you are sanctified. You think I tnust first he, or do, thus or thus. Then you are seeking it by works unto this day. If you seek it by faith, you may expect it as you are ; then expect it now. It is of importance to observe, that there is an inseparable connection between these three points — expect it by faith, expect it as you are, and expect it now. To deny one of them, is to deny them all : to allow one, is to allow them all. Do you believe we are sanctified by faith ] Be true then to your principle, and look for this blessing just as you are, neither better nor worse ; as a poor sinner, that has nothing to pay, nothing to plead, but ' Christ died.' And if you look for it as you are, then ex- pect it now.\ Stay for nothing ! Why should you 1 Christ is ready, and he is all you want. He is waiting for you ! He is at the door. Whosoever thou art who desirest to be forgiven, first believe. Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and then thou shalt do all things well. Say not, ' I can not be accepted yet, because I am not good enough.' Who is good enough, who ever was, to merit acceptance at God's hands ? Say not, * I am not contrite enough ; I am not sensible enough of my sins.' I know it. I would to God thou wert more sensible of them, and more contrite a thousandfold than thou art ! But do not stay for this. It may be God will make thee so ; not before thou believest, but by believing. It may be thou wilt not weep much, till thou lovest much, because thou hast had much forgiven." Upon these fundamental doctrines of the New Birth, and Justification by Faith, he exhorted his disciples to insist with all boldness, at all times, and in all places : in public, those who were called thereto ; and at all oppor- tunities in private. But what is faith If " Not an opin- ion," said Wesley, " nor any number of opinions put together, be they ever so true. A string of opinions is no more Christian faith, than a string of beads is Christian holiness. It is not an assent to any opinion, or any number of opinions. A man may assent to three, or three-and- twenty creeds : he may assent to all the Old and New Tes- * This is shrewd logic ; but it i^ mere logic. A month's meditation on the being of sin, and not on the verbal definition of the word sin, might, perhaps, have showTi Wesley its futility. But life was always a metaphor for him. He never got deeper than (5 log. — S. T. C. t [See Appendix, Note VII. — Am. Ed.'\ t [See Appendix, Note Ylll.—Am. Ed.} Wesley's doctrines and opinions. 71 lament (at least so far as he understands them), and yet have no Christian faith at all. The faith by which the promise is attained, is represented by Christianity as a power wrought by the Almighty in an immortal spirit, mhabiting a house of clay, to see through that veil into the world of spirits, into things invisible and eternal : a power to discern those things which, with eyes of flesh and blood, no man hath seen, or can see ; either by reason of their nature, which (though they surround us on every side) is not perceivable by these gross senses ; or by reason of their distance, as being yet afar off in the bosom of eter- nity. It showeth what eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither could it before enter into our heart to conceive ; and all this in the clearest light, with the fullest certainty and evidence. For it does not leave us to receive our notice by mere reflection from the dull glass of sense, but resolves a thousand enigmas of the highest concern, by giv- ing faculties suited to things invisible. It is the eye of the new-born soul, whereby every true believer seeth Him who is invisible." It is the ear of the soul, whereby the sinner " hears the voice of the Son of God, and hves the palate of the soul (if the expression may be allowed), whereby a believer " tastes the good word and the powers of the world to come the feeling of the soul, whereby " through the power of the Highest overshadowing him," he perceives the presence of Him in whom he lives, and moves, and has his being, and feels the love of God shed abroad in his heart. It is the internal evidence of Christ- ianity, a perpetual revelation, equally strong, equally new, through all the centuries which have elapsed since the in- carnation, and passing now even as it has done from the beginning, directly from God into the believing soul. Do you suppose time will ever dry up this stream ? Oh no ! It shall never be cut off — Lahitur et labetur in omnc volubilis cBvum. It flows, and as it flows, forever will flow on. The historical evidence of revelation, strong and clear as it is, is cognizable by men of learning alone ; but this is plain, simple, and level to the lowest capacity. The sum is, "One thing I know: I was blind, but now I see ;" an argument of which a peasant, a woman, a child, may feel all the force. The traditional evidence gives an account of what was transacted far away, and long ago. The inward evidence is intimately present to all persons, at all times, and in all 72 Wesley's doctrines and opinions. places. " It is nigh thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, if thou believest in the Lord Jesus Christ." T?iis, then, is the record, this is the evidence, emphatically so called, that God hath given unto us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Why, then, have not all ipen this faith? Because no man is able to vfork it in himself: it is a work of Omnipo- tence. It requires no less power thus to quicken a dead soul, than to raise a body that lies in the grave. It is a new creation ; and none can create a soul anew, but He who at first created the heavens and the earth. May not your own experience teach you this ] said Wesley. Can you give yourself this faith 1 Is it in your power to see, or hear, or taste, or feel God ? — to raise in youi-self any per- ception of God, or of an invisible world ] — to open an in- tercourse between yourself and the world of spirits 1 — to discern either them or Him that created them ? — to burst the veil that is on your heart, and let in the light of eter- nity ? You know it is not. You not only do not, but can not (by your own strength), thus believe.* The more you labor so to do, the more you will be convinced it is the gift of God. It is the free gift of God. which he bestows not on those who are worthy of his favor, not on such as are jrreviously holy, and so fit to be cro^^^led with all the bless- ings of his goodness ; but on the ungodly and unholy ; on those who, till that hour, were fit only for everlasting de- struction ; those in whom was no good thing, and whose only plea was, God be merciful to me a sinner! No merit, no goodness in man, precedes the forgiving love of God. His pardoning mercy supposes nothing in us but a sense of mere sin and misery ; and to all who see and feel, and own their wants, and their utter inability to remove them, God freely gives faith, for the sake of Him " in whom he is always well pleased." Whosoever thou art, O man, who hast the sentence of death in thyself, unto thee saith the Lord, not, " Do this, perfectly obey all my commands, and live ;" but, " Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." * I venture to avow it as my com-iction, that either Christian faith ia what Wesley here describes, or there is no proper meaning in the worcL It is either the identity of the reason and the will (the proper spiritual part of man), in the full energy of each, consequent on a di\'ine re- kindlins, or it is not at all. Faith is as real as hfe ; as actual as force; as effectual as volition. It is the physics of the moral being, no less than it is the physics or morale of the zoo-physical. — S. T. C. May 1, 18:20. Wesley's docteines and opinions. 73 Without faith, a man can not be justified, even though he should have every thing else ; with faith, he can not but be justified, though every thing else should be wanting. This justifying faith implies not only the personal revela- tion, the inward evidence of Christianity, but likewise a sure and firm confidence in the individual believer, that Christ died for his sins, loved him, and gave his life for Jiim. And at what time soever a sinner thus believes^ God justifieth him. Repentance, indeed, must have been given him before ; but that repentance was neither more nor less than a deep sense of the want of all good, and the presence of all evil ; and whatever good he hath or doth from that hour when he first believes in God through Christ, faith does not find, but bring. Both repentance, and fruits meet for repentance, are in some degree necessary to justifica- tion ; but they are not necessary in the same sense with faith, nor in the same degree. Not in the same degree ; for these fruits are only necessary conditionally, if there be time and opportunity for them. Not in the same sense ; for repentance and its fruits are only remotely necessary — necessary in order to faith ; whereas faith is immediately and directly necessary to justification. In like manner, faith is the only condition of sanctifi cation. Every one that be- lieves is sanctified, whatever else he has, or has not. In other words, no man can be sanctified till he believes; every man, when he believes, is sanctified. Here AVesley came upon perilous ground. We must be holy in heart and life, before we can be conscious that we are so. But we must love God before we can be holy at all. We can not love Him till we know that He loves us ; and this we can not know till his Spirit witnesses it to our spirit. The testimony of the Spirit of God must, there- fore, he argued, in the very nature of things, be antecedent to the testimony of our own spirit. But he perceived that many had mistaken the voice of their own imagination for this witness of the Spirit, and presumed that they were children of God, while they were doing the works of the devil. And he was not surprised that many sensible men, seeing the effects of this delusion, should lean toward another extreme, and question whether the witness of the Spirit whereof the apostle speaks, is the privilege of ordinary Christians, and not rather one of those extraordi- nary gifts which they suppose belonged only to the apos- tle's age. Yefe, when he asks, " How" may one, who has VOL, II. — D 74 WESLEY S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. the real witness in himself, distinguish it from presump- tion V he evades the difficulty, and offers a declamatory reply, *' How, I pray, do you distinguish day from night "? How do you distinguish light from darkness ] or the light of a star, or of a glimmering taper, from the light of the noonday sun V This is the ready answer of every one who has been crazed by enthusiasm.* But Wesley re- garded the doctrine as one of the glories of his people, as one grand part of the testimony which God, he said, had given them to bear to all mankind. It was by this pecu- liar blessing upon them, confirmed by the experience of his children, that this great evangelical truth, he averred, had been recovered, which had been for many years well nigh lost and forgotten. These notions led to the doctrine of Assurance, which he had defended so pertinaciously against his brother Samuel. But upon this point his fervor had abated, and he made a fairer retractation than was to be expected from the founder of a sect. " Some," said he, " are fond of the expression ; I am not : I hardly ever use it. But I will simply declare (having neither leisure nor inclination to draw the sword of controversy concerning it) what are ray present sentiments with regard to the thing which is usually meant thereby. I believe a few, but very few Christians, have an assurance from God of everlasting salvation : and that is the thing which the apostle terms the plerophory, or full assurance of hope. I believe more have such an assurance of being now in the favor of God, as excludes all doubt and fear : and this, if I do not mistake, is what the apostle means by the plerophory, or full assurance of faith. I believe a consciousness of being in the favor of God (which I do not term plerophory, or full assurance, since it is frequently weakened, nay, perhaps interrupted, by re- turns of doubt or fear) is the common privilege of Christ- ians, fearing God, and working righteousness. Yet I do not affirm there are no exceptions to this general rule. Possibly some may be in the favor of God, and yet go mourning all the day long. (But I believe this is usually owing either to disorder of body, or ignorance of the gospel promises.) Therefore I have not, for many years, thought * [It was not for the want of another answer that Wesley sometimes used this. The Scriptures give the true criteria by which we may " Xr\ the spirits whether they be of God ;" and he was well acquainted vnm them. — Am. Ed.^ VVE8LEY*S DOCTRINES AND OPINIONS. 75 a consciousness of acceptance to be essential to justifying faith. And after I have thus explained myself once for all, 1 think without any evasion or ambiguity, I am sure with- out any self-contradiction, I hope all reasonable men will be satisfied : and whoever will still dispute with me on this head, must do it for disputing's sake." The doctrine of Perfection* is not less perilous, sure as the expression was to be mistaken by the ignorant people to whom his discourses were addressed. This, too, was a doctrine which he had preached with inconsiderate ardor at the commencement of his career ; and which, as he grew older, cooler, and wiser, he modified and softened down, so as almost to explain it away.t He defined it to be a constant communion with God, which fills the heart with humble love ; and to this, he insisted, that every believer might attain : yet he admitted that it did not include a power never to think a useless thought, nor speak a useless word. Such a perfection is inconsistent with a corruptible body, which makes it impossible always to think right : if, therefore, Christian perfection implies this, he admitted that we must not expect it till after death. To one of his female disciples, who seems to have written to him under a desponding sense of her own imperfection, he replied in these terms : " I want you," he added, ** to be all love. This is the perfection I believe and teach; and this perfection is consistent with a thousand nervous disorders, which that high-strained perfection is not. In- deed my judgment is, that (in this case particularly) to overdo is to undo; and that to set perfection too high, is the most effectual way of driving it out of the world." In like manner he justified the word to Bishop Gibson, by explaining it to mean less than it expressed ; so that the bishop replied to him, " Why, Mr. Wesley, if this is what you mean by perfection, who can be against it ]" " Man," he says, " in his present state, can no more attain Adamic than angelic perfection. The perfection of which man is capable, while he dwells in a corruptible body, is the com- plying with that kind command, ' My son, give me thy heart !' It is the loving the Lord his God, with all his * [See Appendix, Note X. — Am. Ed.'\ t [That is, he so guarded his language as to render it incapable of objections from the pious and discreet, and of jests from the profane ; the essence of the doctrine itself, he neither " modified" nor " softened down," much less did he " explain it away." — Am. Ed.} 76 Wesley's doctrines and opinions. heart, and with all his soul, and with all his mind." But these occasional explanations did not render the general use of the word less mischievous, or less reprehensible.* Ignorant hearers took it for what it appeared to mean ; and what, from the mouths of ignorant instructors, it was intended to mean. It flattered their vanity and their spir- itual pride, and became one of the most popular tenets of the Methodists, precisely because it is one of the most objectionable. Wesley himself repeatedly finds fault with his preachers if they neglected to enforce a doctrine so well adapted to gratify their hearers. In one place he says, " The more I converse with the believers in Corn- wall, the more am I convinced that they have sustained great loss for want of hearing the doctrine of Christian Perfection clearly and strongly enforced. I see wherever this is not done, the believers grow dead and cold. Nor can this be prevented, but by keeping up in them an hourly expectation of being perfected in love. I say an hourly expectation ; for to expect it at death, or some time hence, is much the same as not expecting it at all." And on another occasion he writes thus : " Here I found the plain reason why the work of God had gained no ground in this circuit all the year. The preachers had given up the Methodist testimony. Either they did not speak of per- fection at all (the peculiar doctrine committed to our trust), or they spoke of it only in general terms, without urging the believers to go on to perfection, and to expect it every moment : and wherever this is not earnestly done, the work of God does not prosper. As to the word perfec- tion," said he, " it is scriptural ; therefore neither you nor I can, in conscience, object to it, unless we would send the Holy Ghost to school, and teach Him to speak who made the tongue." Thus it was that he attempted to justify to others, and to himself also, the use of language, for perse- vering in which, after the intemperance of his enthusiasm had abated, there can be no excuse, seeing that all he intended to convey by the obnoxious term might have been expressed without offending the judicious, or deluding the ignorant and indiscreet. Wesley was not blind to the tendency of these doctrines. * [It is strange that Scripture truth, as Southey admits Wesley's meaning to have been, expressed in Scripture language, as surely the term "perfection" is, should yet be so "mischievous" and " reprehensi- ble."— ^w. £i.] Wesley's doctrines and opinions. 77 *' The true gospel," said he, ** touches the very edge both of Calvinism and Antinomianisra, so that nothing but the mighty power of God can prevent our sliding either into the one or the other." Many of his associates and follow- ers fell into both. He always declared himself clearly and strongly against both ; though at the expense of some in- consistency, when he preached of a sanctification which left the subject liable to sin, of an assurance which was not assured, and of an imperfect perfection.* But his real opinion could not be mistaken ; and few men have combat- ed these pestilent errors with more earnestness or more success. He never willingly engaged in those subtile and unprofitable discussions which have occasioned so much dissension in the Christian world; but upon those points in which speculation is allowable, and error harmless, he freely indulged his imagination. It was his opinion, that there is a chain of beings ad- vancing by degrees from the lowest to the highest point — from an atom of unorganized matter, to the highest of the archangels ; an opinion consonant to the philosophy of the bards, and confirmed by science, as far as our physiologi- cal knowledge extends. He believed in the ministry both of good and evil angels ;t but whether every man had a guardian angel to protect him, as the Romanists hold, and a malignant demon continually watching to seduce him into the ways of sin and death, this he considered as un- determined by revelation, and therefore doubtful. Evil thoughts he held to be infused into the minds of men by the evil principle ; and that " as no good is done, or spoken, or thought, by any man, without the assistance of God working together in and wit?i those that believe in him ; so there is no evil done, or spoken, or thought, without the assistance of the devil, who worketh with energy in the children of unbelief. And certainly," said he, " it is as easy for a spirit to speak to our heart, as for a man to speak to our ears. But sometimes it is exceedingly difiicult to distinguish the thoughts which he infuses from our own ♦ [This is quite in character ; but the sophistry of the whole sentence is too plain to allow even a moment's triumph. Does spiritual sanctifi- cation imply impeccability? Is assurance of present acceptance with God, and assurance of eternal salvation identical ? Is Christian perfec- tion necessarily absolute perfection ? Let these questions be well con- sidered before Wesley is lightly charged with inconsistency, on these points. — Am. Ed-I t [See Appendix, Note XI. — Am. Ed."] 78 Wesley's doctrines and opinions. thoughts, those which he injects so exactly resembling those which naturally arise in our own minds. Sometimes, indeed, we may distinguish one from the other by this circumstance : the thoughts which naturally arise in our minds are generally, if not always, occasioned by, or at least connected with, some inward or outward circum- stance that went before ; but those that are pretematurally suggested, have frequently no relation to, or connection (at least, none that we are able to discern) with, any thing which preceded. On the contrary, they shoot in, as it were, across, and thereby show that they are of a different growth." His notions of diabolical agency went farther than this :* he imputed to it many of the accidents and discomforts of life — disease, bodily hurts, storms and earthquakes, and nightmare : he believed that epilepsy was often or always the effect of possession, and that most madmen were de- moniacs. A belief in witchcraft naturally followed from these premises ; but after satisfying his understanding that supernatural acts and appearances are consistent with the order of the universe, sanctioned by Scripture, and proved by testimony too general and too strong to be resisted, he invalidated his own authority, by listening to the most ab- surd tales with implicit credulity, and recording them as authenticated facts. He adhered to the old opinion, that the devils were the gods of the heathen ; and he maintain- ed, that the words in the Lord's Prayer, which have been rendered evil, mean, in the original, the wicked one, " em- phatically so called, the prince and god of this world, who works with mighty power in the children of disobedience." One of his most singular notions was concerning the day of judgment. He thought it probable that its duration would be several thousand years, that the place would be above the earth, and that the circumstances of every indi- vidual's life would then be brought forth in full view, to- gether with all their tempers, and all the desires, thoughts, and intents of their hearts. This he thought absolutely necessary for the full display of the glory of God, for the clear and perfect manifestation of his wisdom, justice, power, and mercy. '* Then only," he argued, " when God hath brought to light all the hidden things of darkness, will it be seen that wise and good were all his ways ; that he saw through the thick cloud, and governed all things by * [See Appendix, Note XII. — Am. Ed.] Wesley's docteines and opinions. 79 the wise counsel of his own will ; that nothing was left to chance or the caprice of men, but God disposed all strong- ly, and wrought all into one connected chain of justice, mercy, and truth." Whether the earth and the material heavens would be consumed by the general conflagration, and pass away, or be transmuted by the fire into that sea of glass like unto crystal, which is described in the Apoca- lypse as extending before the throne, we could neither affirm nor deny, he said ; but we should know hereafter. He held the doctrine of the millennium to be scriptural ; but he never fell into those wild and extravagant fancies, in which speculations of this kind so frequently end. The Apocalypse is the favorite study of crazy religionists ; but Wesley says of it, " Oh, how little do we know of this deep book ! at least, how little do I know ! I can barely con- jecture, not affirm, any one point concerning that part of it which is yet unfulfilled." He entertained some interesting opinions concerning the brute creation, and derived whatever evils inferior creatures endure, or inflict upon each other, from the consequence of the Fall. In Paradise they existed in a state of happiness, enjoying will and liberty : their passions and affections were regular, and their choice always guided by their under- standing, which was perfect in its kind. *' What," says he, is the barrier between men and brutes — the line which they can not pass % It is not reason. Set aside that am- biguous term ; exchange it for the plain word understand- ing, and who can deny that brutes have this ? We may as well deny that they have sight or hearing. But it is this : man is capable of God ; the inferior creatures are not. We have no ground to believe that they are in any degree ca- pable of knowing, loving, or obeying God. This is the specific difference between man and brute — the great gulf which they can not pass over. And as a loving obedience to God was the perfection of man, so a loving obedience to man was the perfection of brutes." While this continued, they were happy after their kind, in the right state and the right use of all their faculties. Evil and pain had not entered into Paradise ; and they were immortal ;* for " God made * Wesley appears to have confounded the term immortal with im- perishable. Life may be (and if life be ens rerum, must be) imperish- able ; but only reason is, or can render, immortal. An immortal bmte is a contradiction in terms. Without continued progression there is no motive, = but without self-consciousness there is no subject, for immoi*- tality. But self-consciousness (which I suspect Wesley confounded 60 Wesley's doctrines and opinions. not death, neither hath he pleasure in the death of any liv- ing." How true, then, is that word, " God saw every thing that he had made, and behold it was very good." But as all the blessings of God flowed through man to the inferior creatures, those blessings were cut off when man made himself incapable of transmitting them, and all creatures were then subjected to sorrow, and pain, and evil of every kind. It is probable that the meaner creatures sus- tained much loss, even in the lower faculties of their cor- poreal powers : they suffered more in their understanding, and still more in their liberty, their passions, and their will. The very foundations of their nature were turned upside down. As man is depiived of his perfection, his loving obedience to God, so brutes are deprived of their perfec- tion, their loving obedience to man. The far greater part flee from his hated presence ; others set him at defiance, and destroy him when they can ; a few only retain more • or less of their original disposition, and, through the mercy of God, still love him and obey him. And in consequence of the first transgression, death came upon the whole crea- tion ; and not death alone, but all its train of preparatory evils, pain, and ten thousand sufferings ; nor these only, but likewise those irregular passions, all those unlovely tem- pers, which in man are sins, and even in brutes are sources of misery, passed upon all the inhabitants of the earth, and remain in all, except the children of God. Inferior crea- tures torment, persecute and devour each other, and all are tormented and persecuted by man. But, says Wesley, will the creature, will even the brute creation always remain in this deplorable condition % God forbid that we should af- firm this, yea, or even entertain such a thought. While the whole creation groaneth together, whether men attend or not, their groans are not dispersed in idle air, but enter into the ears of him that made them. Away with vulgar preju- dices, and let the plain word of God take place ! ** God shall wipe away all tears : and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying. Neither shall there be with the copula of vital sensations in the successive unity of the multi- tude of" acts that constitute the life in each successive instant of time) — self-consciousness is, or implies, reason : for it implies the power of con- templating the self, as an idea loosened from the sensation of one's own self, as the, I am I James, or I John ; consequently the power of de- termining an ultimate end — which if brutes possess, they are no longer brutes. But this opinion affords a fresh proof that Wesley's intellect never rose above logic. — S. T. C. Wesley's doctrines and opinions. 81 any more pain ; for the former things are passed away." This blessing shall take place ; not on men alone (there is no such restriction in the text), but on every creature ac- cording to its capacity. The whole brute creation will then undoubtedly be restored to all that they have lost, and with a large increase of faculties.* They will be delivered from all unruly passions, from all evil, and all suffering. And what if it should then please the all-wise, the all-gracious Creator, to raise them higher in the scale of beings U What if it should please Him, when he makes us equal to angels, to make them what we are now, creatures capable of God, capable of knowing, and loving, and enjoying the author of their being? Some teacher of materialism had asserted that if man had an immaterial soul, so had the brutes ; as if this con- clusion reduced that opinion to a manifest absurdity. ** I will not quarrel," said Wesley, " with any that think they have. Nay, I wish he could prove it ; and surely I would rather allow them souls, than I would give up my own." He cherished this opinion, because it furnished a full answer to a plausible objection against the justice of God. That jus- tice might seem to be impugned by the sufferings to which brute animals are subject ; those, especially, who are under the tyranny of brutal men. But the objection vanishes, if we consider that something better remains after death for these poor creatures also. This good end, he argued, was answered by thus speculating upon a subject which we so imperfectly understand ; and such speculations might soften and enlarge our hearts. The kindness of Wesley's nature is apparent in this opin- ion, and that same kindness produced in him a degree of charity, which has seldom been found in those who aspire to reform a church or to establish a sect. " We may die," he says, *• without the knowledge of many truths, and yet be carried into Abraham's bosom ; but if we die without love, what will knowledge avail ] Just as much as it avails the devil and his angels ! I will not quarrel with you about my opinion ; only see that your heart be right toward God, that you know and love the Lord Jesus Christ, that you * [See Appendix, Note XIII.— ^m. Ed.'\ + How was it possible for Wesley not to see that there is no meaning' HI the word them, as applied to flies, fish, worms, &c. ? As well, if I Buffered a door to fall to pieces, and put a dog in the passage instead. I might be said to have raised the door into a dog. — S. T. C. D* 82 Wesley's doctrines and opinions. love your neighbor, and walk as your Master walked, and I desire no more. I am sick of opinions : I am weary to bear them : my soul lothes this frothy food. Give me solid and substantial religion : give me a humble, gentle lover of God and man ; a man full of mercy and good faith, with- out partiality, and without hypocrisy; a man laying him- self out in the work of faith, the patience of hope, the labor of love. Let my soul be with these Christians, whereso- ever they are, and whatsoever opinion they are of * Who- soever' thus * doth the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother.' " This temper of mind led him to judge kindly of the Ro- manists,* and of heretics t of every description wherever * " I read the deaths of some of the order of La Trappe. I am amazed at the allowance which God makes for invincible ignorance. Notwithstanding the mixture of superstition which appears in every one of these, yet what a strong vein of piety runs through all ! What deep experience ef the inward work of God, of righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." " In riding from Evesham to Bristol, I read over that surprising book, the Life of Ignatius Loyola; surely one of the greatest men that ever was engaged in the support of so bad a cause ! I wonder any man should judge him to be an enthusiast. No ; Vjut he knew the people with whom he had to do ; and setting out, like Count Zinzendorf, with a full persuasion that he might use guile to promote the glory of God, or (which he thought t^^e same thing) the interests of hia Church, he acted in all things consistent with his principles." t Of Pelagius he says, " By all I can pick up from ancient authors, I guess he was both a wise and holy man ; that we know nothing but his name, for his writings are all destroyed — not one line of them left." So, too, he says of some heretics of an earlier age, " By reflecting on an odd Ijook which I had read in this journey, ' The general Delusion of Christians with regard to Prophecy,' I was fully con\-inced of what I had long suspected : first, that the Montanists, in the second and third centuries, were real, scriptural Christians ; and secondly, that the grand reason why the miraculous gifts were so soon withdrawn, was not only that faith and holiness were well nigh lost, but that dry, formal, ortho- dox men began, even then, to ridicule whatever gifts they had not themselves, and to decry them all, as either madness or imposture." He vindicated Servetus also. " Being," he says, " in the Bodleian Li- brary, I light on Mr. Calvin's account of the case of Michael Ser\ ems, several of whose letters he occasionally inserts, wherein Ser\'etus often declares in terms, * I believe the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Ghost is God.' Mr. Cahin, however, paints him such a monster as never was : an Arian, a blasphemer, and what not ; beside strewing over him his flowers of dog, devil, swine, and so on, which are the usual appellations he gives to his opponents. But still he utterly denies his being the cause of Servetus's death. ' No,' says he, ' I only adWsed our magistrates as having a right to restrain heretics by the sword, to seize upon and try that arch heretic ; but, after he was condemned, I said not one word about his execution.' " Wesley's doctrines and opinions. 83 a Christian disposition and a virtuous life were found.* He published the lives of several Catholics, and of one Socin- ian,t for the edification of his followers. He believed not only that heathens, who did their duty according to their knowledge, were capable of eternal life ; but even that a communion with the spiritual world had sometimes been vouchsafed them. Thus he affirms that the demon of Soc- rates was a ministering angel, and that Marcus Antoninusf received good inspirations, as he has asserted of himself. And where there was no such individual excellence, as in these signal instances, he refused to believe that any man. could be precluded from salvation by the accident of his birthplace. Upon this point he vindicated divine justice, by considering the different relation in which the Almighty He reverts to this subject in his Remarks upon a Tract by Dr. Ers- kine. " That Michael Servetus was ' one of the wildest anti-Trinita- rians that ever appeared,' is by no means clear. I doubt of it, on the authority of Calvin himself, who certainly was not prejudiced in his fa vor. For, if Calvin does not misquote his words, he was no anti-Trin- itarian at all. Calvin himself gives a quotation from one of his letters, in which he expressly declares, ' I do believe the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Ghost is God ; but I dare not use the word Trinity, or persons.' I dare, and I think them very good words ; but should think it very hard to be burned alive for not using them, espe- cially with a slow fire, made of moist, green wood. I believe Calvin was a great instrument of God ; and that he was a wise and pious man ; but I can not but advise those who love his memory, to let Servetus alone." * I scarcely understand the interest of the question respecting the Romish being a true church for an enlightened Protestant of the present day. I know of no church, Jewish, Turkish, or Brahmin, in which, and in spite of which, a man may not possibly be saved. Who dares limit the Spirit of God ? But if such salvation taking place, not by, or with the aid of, but in spite of the system, presumes an anti-Christian church — then Rome is Antichrist though the Pascals and F^nelons had been ten times decupled. — S. T. C. t Thomas Firmin. Wesley prefaces the life of this good man, in his Magazine, with these words: "I was exceedingly struck at reading the following life, having long settled it in my mind, that the entertain- ing wrong notions concerning the Trinity was inconsistent with real piety. But I can not argue against matter of fact. I dare not deny that Mr. Firmin was a pious man, although his notions of the Trinity were quite erroneous." X "I read to-day part of the meditations of Marcus Antoninus. What a strange emperor ! and what a strange heathen ! — giving thanks to God for all the good things he enjoyed ! — in particular for his good inspirations, and for twice revealing to him in dreams things whereby he was cured of otherwise incurable distempers. I make no doubt but this is one of those many who shall come from the East and the West, and sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, while the children of the kingdom, nominal Christians, are shut ont. 84 wesi.ey's doctrines and opinions. stands to his creatures, as a creator, and as a governor. As a creator, he acts in all things according to his own sov- ereign will : in that exercise of his power, justice can have no place ; for nothing is due to what has no being. Ac- cordinj^, therefore, to his ovsoi good pleasure, he allots the time, the place, the circumstances for the birth of each in- dividual, and gives them various degi'ees of understanding, and of knowledge, diversified in numberless ways. " It is hard to say how far this extends : what an amazing differ- ence there is between one born and bred up in a pious En- glish family, and one born and bred among the Hottentots. Only we are sure the difference can not be so great as to necessitate one to be good, or the other to be evil ; to force one into everlasting glory, or the other into everlasting burnings. For, as a governor, the Almighty can not pos- sibly act according to his own mere sovereign will ; but, as he has expressly told us, according to the invariable rules both of justice and mercy. Whatsoever, therefore, it hath pleased Him to do of his sovereign pleasure as Crea- tor, He will judge the world in righteousness, and every man therein, according to the strictest justice. He will punish no man for doing any thing which he could not pos- sibly avoid ; neither for omitting any thing which he could not possibly do." Wesley was sometimes led to profess a different doctrine, in consequence of discussing questions which serve rather to sharpen the disputatious faculties than to improve a Christian disposition. Thus he has affirmed, in the Min- utes of Conference, that a Heathen, a Papist, or a Church- of-England man, if they die without being sanctified, ac- cording to his notions of sanctification, can not see the Lord. And to the question, Can an unbeliever, whatever he be in other respects, challenge any thing of God's justice 1* the * Wesley might, and probably would, have vindicated himself from inconsistency, by laying the stress on the words " challenge" and "jus- tice." Had the question been, Dare we hope aught from God's mercy for an unbeliever, in other respects unpolluted, and having a heart of love ? — the answer might have been : If such there be, doubtless. We may hope, though we are not authorized to promise. — S. T. C. [All Southey's difficulty in this case arises from an ignoratio elenchi ; he misapprehends the subject. Wesley held that all who are saved are first sanctified, but he believed, in most cases this was accomphsh- ed at the article of death, and in a manner wholly unknowTi to us. In the Minutes for August 1, 1745, are the following question and answer : " Q. Is this (entire sanctification) ordinarily given till a little before death ? ^ . It is not to those who expect it uo sooner. ' ' The discrepancy Wesley's doctrines and opinions. 85 answer is, " Absolutely nothing but hell." But the humaner opinion was more congenial to his temper, and in that bet- ter opinion he rested. between these last stated doctrines, and the more approved " humaner opinions" does not appear to be great. As a whole, it must be allowed that Southey has here stated Wesley opinions with a good degree of fairness. He evidently did not understand his subject, as he had no sympathy with the character of his hero, but justice demands the con- fession that he seems to have meant to be fair. The opinions attributed to Wesley, with a few exceptions, are not only his, out they are such as he willingly and fearlessly declared at all times. Some of the re- marks and inferences in the foregoing chapter are strongly marked by the hand of the author ; but were that otherwise, they would not be Southey's. A distinction should have been made between those doc- trinal opinions which enter into the constitution of Methodism, and the merely speculative notions which, though entertained by Wesley, make no part of the creed of his followers. The former includes what is said of the moral law, the fall of man and its consequences, the nature and offices of faith, Justification, Regeneration, the witness of the Spirit, and Christian perfection ; the latter all that is stated about the immortaHty of the inferior animals, the day of Judgment and the Millennium. — Am. Ed.-] CHAPTER XXL DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. It is less surprising that "Wesley should have obtained so many followers, than that he should have organized them so skillfully, and preserved his power over them, without diminution, to the end of his long life. Francis of Assissi, and Ignatius Loyola, would have produced little effect, marvelous enthusiasts as they were, unless their enthusiasm had been assisted and directed by wiser heads. Wesley, who in so many other respects may be compared to these great agents in the Catholic world, stands far above them in this. He legislated for the sect which he raised, and exercised an absolute supremacy over his people. " The power I have," says he, " I never sought : it was the un- desired, unexpected result of the work God was pleased to work by me. I have a thousand times sought to de- volve it on others ; but as yet I can not ; I therefore suffer it, till I can find any to ease me of my burden." That time never arrived. It was convenient for the soci- ety that he should be really as well as ostensibly their head ; and however he may have deceived himself, the Jove of power was a ruling passion in his mind. The question was asked, at one of the Conferences, what the power was which he exercised over all the Meth- odists in Great Britain and Ireland. It was evidently pro- posed that he might have an opportunity of defining and asserting it. He began his reply by premising, that Count Zinzendorf loved to keep all things closely, but that he loved to do all things openly, and would therefore tell them all he knew of the matter. A few persons, at the beginning, came to him in London, and desired him to advise and pray with, them : others did the same in various parts of the kingdom, and they increased everywhere. '* The desire," said he, " was on their part, not on mine : my desire was to live and die in retirement ; but I did not see that I could refuse them my help, and be guiltless be- DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 87 fore God. Here commenced my power ; namely, a power to appoint wiien, where, and how they should meet ; and to remove those whose life showed that they had no desire to flee from the wrath to come. And this power remained the same, whether people meeting together were twelve, twelve hundred, or twelve thousand." In a short time some of these persons said they would not sit under him for nothing, but would subscribe quarterly. He made an- swer, that he would have nothing, because he wanted noth- ing ; for his fellowship supplied him with all, and more than all he wanted. But they represented that money was wanted to pay for the lease of the Foundry, and for putting it in repair. Upon that ground he suffered them to subscribe. *' Then I asked," said he, " Who will take the trouble of receiving this money, and paying it where it is needful 1 One said, I will do it, and keep the account for you : so here was the first steward. Afterward I desir- ed one or two more to help me as stewards ; and, in pro- cess of time, a greater number. Let it be remarked, it was I myself, not the people, who chose the stewards, and appointed to each the distinct work wherein he was to help me as long as I chose." The same prescription he pleaded with regard to his authority over the lay preachers. The first of these offered to serve him as sons, as he should think proper to direct. ** Observe," said he, " these like- wise desired me, not I them. And here commenced my power to appoint each of these, when, where, and how to labor ; that is, while he chose to continue with me ; for each had a power to go away when he pleased, as I had also to go away from them, or any of them, if I saw suffi- cient cause. The case continued the same when the num- ber of preachers increased. I had just the same power still to appoint when, and where, and how each should help me ; and to tell any, if I saw cause, * I do not desire your help any longer.* On these terms, and no other, we join- ed at first ; on these we continue joined. They do me no favor in being directed by me. It is true my reward is with the Lord ; but at present I have nothing from it but trouble and care, and often a burden I scarce know how to bear." His power over the Conference he rested upon the same plea of prescription ; but it had originated with himself ; not like his authority over the preachers and the laity, in a voluntary offer of obedience. He, of his own impulse, had 88 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. invited several clergymen, who acted vv^itli him, and all the lay preachers who at that time served him as sons in the gospel, to meet and advise with him. " They did not desire 5ie meeting," said he, '* but I did, knowing that, in a mul- titude of counselors there is safety. And when their num- ber increased, so that it was neither needful nor con- venient to invite them all, for several years, I wrote to those with whom I desired to confer, and these only met at the place appointed ; till at length I gave a general per- mission, that all who desired it might come. Oberve: I myself sent for these, of my own free choice ; and I sent for them to advise, not govern me. Neither did I, at any of those times, divest myself of any part of that power which the providence of God had cast upon me, without any design or choice of mine. What is that power % It is a power of admitting into, and excluding from, the societies under my care ; of choosing and removing stewards ; of receiving, or not receiving, helpers ; of appointing them when, where, and how to help me ; and of desiring any of them to meet me, when I see good. And as it was merely in obedience to the providence of God, and for the good of the people, that I at first accepted this power, which I never sought — nay, a hundred times labored to throw off — so it is on the same considerations, not for profit, honor, or pleasure, that I use it at this day." In reference to himself, as the person in whom the whole and sole authority was vested, Wesley called his preachers by the name of helpers ; and designated as as- sistants those among them who, for the duties which they discharge, have since been denominated superintendents. It soon became expedient to divide the country into cir- cuits. There were, in the year 1749, twenty in England, two in Wales, two in Scotland, and seven in Ireland. In 1791, the year of Mr. Wesley's death, they had increased to seventy-two in England, three in Wales, seven in Scot- land, and twenty-eight in Ireland. Every circuit had a certain number of preachers appointed to it, more or less, according to its extent, under an assistant, whose office it was to admit or expel members, take lists of the societies at Easter, hold quarterly meetings, visit the classes quar- terly, keep watch-nights and love-feasts, superintend the other preachers, and regulate the whole business of the cir- cuit, spiritual and temporal. The helpers were not admitted indiscriminately : gifts ^ DISCIPLINE OP THE METHODISTS. 89 as well as grace for the work, were required. An aspirant was first examined concerning his theological knowledge, that it might be seen whether his opinions were sound ; he was then to exhibit his gift of utterance, by preaching before Mr. Wesley; and afterward to give, either orally or in writing, his reasons for thinking that he was called of God to the ministry. The best proof of this was, that some persons should have been convinced of sin, and converted by his preaching. If a right belief and a ready utterance were found, and these fruits had followed, the concurrence of the three marks was deemed sufficient evidence of a divine call : he was admitted on probation ; with a caution, that he was not to ramble up and down, but to go where the assistant should direct, and there only ; and, at the ensuing conference, he might be received into full con- nection. After a while the time of probation was found too short, and was extended to four years. The rules of a helper are strikingly characteristic of Wesley, both in their manner and their spirit. 1. Be diligent. Never be unemployed a moment : never be triflingly employed. Never while away time ; neither spend any more time at any place than is strictly necessary. 2. Be serious. Let your motto be, Holiness to the Lord. Avoid all lightness, jesting, and foolish talking. 3. Converse sparingly and cautiously with women ; par- ticularly with young women in private. 4. Take no step toward marriage without first acquaint- ing us with your design. 5. Believe evil of no one ; unless you see it done, take heed how you credit it. Put the best construction on every thing: you know the judge is always supposed to be on the prisoner's side. 6. Speak evil of no one ; else your word, especially, would eat as doth a canker. Keep your thoughts within your own breast, till you come to the person concerned. 7. Tell every one what you think wrong in him, and that plainly, and as soon as may be, else it will fester in your heart. Make all haste to cast the fire out of your bosom. 8. Do not affect the gentleman. You have no more to do with this character than with that of a dancing-master. A preacher of the gospel is the servant of all. 9. Be ashanaed of nothing but sin ; not of fetching wood 90 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. (if time permit) or of drawing water; not of cleaning your own shoes, or your neighbor's.* 10. Be punctual. Do every thing exactly at the time : and, in general, do not mend our rules, but keep them ; not for wrath, but for conscience' sake. 11. You have nothing to do but to save souls. There- fore spend and be spent in this work. And go always, not only to those who want you, but to those who want you most. 12. Act in all things, not according to your own will, but as a son in the gospel. As such, it is your part to employ your time in the manner which we direct ; partly in preaching, and visiting the flock, from house to house ; partly in reading, meditation, and prayer. Above all, if you labor with us in our Lord's vineyard, it is needful that you should do that part of the work which we advise, at tliose times and places which we judge most for his glory." Thus did Wesley, who had set so bad an example of obedience, exact it from his own followers, as rigidly as the founder of a monastic order. Like those founders, also, he invited his disciples to enter upon a course of life, which it required no small degree of enthusiasm and of resolution to embrace. The labor was hard, the pro- vision scanty, and the prospect for those who were super- annuated, or worn out in the service, was, on this side the gi'ave, as cheerless as it well could be. When a preacher was admitted into full connection, he paid one guinea, and from that time half-a-guinea annually, toward the preach- ers' fund. If he withdrew from the connection, all that he had subscribed was returned to him ; but if he lived to be disabled, he received from the fund an annuity, which * " Respecting these golden rules," says Mr. Crowther, "it may be proper to observe, ' affecting the gentleman' was not designed to coun- tenance clownishness, or any thing contrary to true Christian courtesy. And when it is said, a preacher of the gospel is the servant of all, it certainly was not meant to insinuate that a preacher was to be set to do the lowest and most slavish drudgery which any person could find for him to do. I presume the servant of God is the servant of all in gospel labors, and in nothing else. And though he may not be ashamed of cleaning his own shoes, or the shoes of others, yet, I apprehend, they ought to be ' ashamed' who would expect or suffer him so to do, especially such as are instructed and profited by his ministerial labors. And surely they ought to feel some shame, also, who would suffer the preacher to go from place to place, day after day, with his shoes and boots uncleaned." — Portraiture of Methodism, p. 277. DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 91 should not be less than ten pounds; and his widow was entitled to a sum, according to the exigence of the case, but not exceeding forty. Some of the itinerant preachers, at one time, entered into trade : the propriety of this was discussed in Con- ference : it was pronounced evil in itself, and in its conse- quences, and they were advised to give up every business, except the ministry, to which they were pledged. There was another more easy and tempting way of eking out their scanty stipends, by printing their own spiritual effusions, and availing themselves of the opportunities afforded, by the system of itinerancy, for selling them. But Mr. Wesley was himself a most voluminous author and compiler : the profits arising fi'om his publications were applied in aid of the expenses of the society, which increased faster than their means : the Methodists, for the most part, had neither time to spare for reading, nor money for books ; and the preachers, who consulted their own individual advantage, in this manner, injured the general fund, in proportion as they were successful ; it was there- fore determined, in Conference, that no preacher should print any thing without Mr. Wesley's consent, nor till it had been corrected by him. The productions which some of them had set forth, both in verse and prose, were cen- sured as having brought a great reproach upon the society, and ** much hindered the spreading of more profitable books and a regulation was made, that the profits, even of those which might be approved and licensed by the founder, should go into the common stock. But with re- gard to those which he himself had published for the bene- fit of the society, and some of which, he said, ought to be in every house, Wesley charged the preachers to exert themselves in finding sale for them. " Carry them with you," said he, '* through every round. Exert yourselves in this : be not ashamed ; be not weary ; leave no stone unturned." Being cut off from the resources of author- ship, some of them began to quack* for the body as well as the soul ; and this led to a decision in Conference, that no preacher, who would not relinquish his trade of making * The Baptists used to tolerate such quackery in their ministers. Crosby, in his history of that sect, contrived to inform the reader, that he continued to prepare and sell a certain wonderful tincture, and cer- tain sugar-plumbs for children, " which have been found to bring from them many strange and monstrous worms." — Vol. iii., p. 147. 92 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS.' and vending pills, drops, balsams, or medicines of any kind, should be considered as a traveling preacher any longer. If their wives sold these things at home, it was said to be well ; but it is not proper for any preacher to hawk them about. It has a bad appearance ; it does not well suit the dignity of his calling." They were restricted also from many indulgences. It was not in Wesley's power, because of the age and coun- try in which he lived, to bind his preachers to a prescribed mode of living by an absolute rule ; but he attempted to effect it, as far as circumstances would allow. They were on no account to touch snuff, nor to taste spirituous liquors on any pretense. **Do you," said he, ** deny yourselves every useless pleasure of sense, imagination, honor? Are you temperate in all things 1 To take one instance, in food, — Do you use only that kind, and that degree, which is best both for the body and soul ] Do you see the necessity of this ] Do you eat no flesh suppers ] no late suppers These naturally tend to destroy bodily health. Do you eat only three meals a-day 1 If four, are you not an excellent pattern to the flock ] Do you take no more food than is necessary at each meal ? You may know, if you do, by a load at your stomach ; by drowsiness or heaviness ; and, in a while, by weak or bad nerves. Do you use only that kind and that degree of drink which is best both for your body and soul ? Do you drink water ] Why not ] Did you ever ? Why did you leave it off, if not for health 1 When will you begin again 1 to-day 1 How often do you drink wine or ale 1 Every day ] Do you want or waste it He declared his own purpose, of eating only vegetables on Fridays, and taking only toast and water in the morning ; and he expected the preach- ers to observe the same kind of fast. The course of life which was prescribed for the preach- ers left them little opportunity for the enjoyment of domestic life. Home could scarcely be regarded as a resting-place by men who were never allowed to be at rest. Wesley insisted upon a frequent and regular change of preachers, because he well knew that the attention of the people was always excited by a new performer in the pulpit. ** I know," said he, ** were I to preach one whole year in one place, I should preach both myself and my congregation asleep. Nor can I believe it was ever the will of the Lord that any congregation should have one teacher only. DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 93 We have found, by long and constant experience, that a frequent change of teachers is best. This preacher has one talent, that another. No one whom I ever yet knew has all the talents which are needful for beginning, continu- ing, and perfecting the work of grace in a whole congre- gation."* The institutions of the Jesuits allowed an itiner- ant father of the company to remain three months in a place, unless any other term were specified in his instructions : but Wesley went farther, and thought it injurious, both to the preacher and people, if one of his itinerants should stay six or eight weeks together in one place. ** Neither," said he, " can he find matter for preaching every morning and evening ; nor will the people come to hear him. Hence he grows cold by lying in bed, and so do the people : whereas, if he never stays more than a fortnight together in one place, he may find matter enough, and the people will gladly hear him." These frequent changes were so gratifying to the people, that the trustees of a meeting-house once expressed an apprehension lest the Conference should impose one preacher on them for many years ; and, to guard against this, a provision was inserted in the deed, that " the same preacher should not be sent, ordinaiily, above one, never above two years together." There may, perhaps, have been another motive in Wes- ley's mind : a preacher, who found himself comfortably settled, with a congregation to whom he had made himself agreeable, might be induced to take root there, throw off his dependence upon the connection, and set up a meeting of his own. Instances of such defection were not wanting, and the frequent changet of preachers was the likeliest means of preventing them. No preacher, according to a rule laid down by Confer- ence, was to preach oftener than twice on a week-day, or three times on the Sabbath. One of these sermons was always to be at five in the morning, whenever twenty hear- ers could be brought together. As the apostolic Eliot used to say to students. Look to it that ye be morning birds ! so Wesley continually inculcated the duty of early rising, as equally good for body and soul. " It helps the nerves," he said, " better than a thousand medicines ; and especially * [See Appendix, Note XIV.— ^m. Ed.'\ t " The people,^ says Mr. Crowther, " ought to get great good from the constant change of the preachers ; for, to the preachers, it is pro- ductive of many inconveniences and painful exercises.!' 94 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. preserv^es the sight, and prevents lowness of spirits. Early preaching," he said, " is the glory of the Methodists. Whenever this is dropped, they will dwindle* away into nothing." He advised his preachers to begin and end al- ways precisely at the time appointed, and always'to con- clude the service in about an hour ; to suit their subject to the audience, to choose the plainest texts, and keep close to the text; neither rambling from it, nor allegoriz- ing, nor spiritualizing too much. More than once, in his Journal, he has recorded the death of men who were mar- tyrs to long and loud preaching, and he frequently cau- tioned his followers against it. To one of them he says, in a curious letter of advice, which he desired might be taken as the surest mark of love, " Scream no more, at the peril of your soul. God now warns you by me, whom he has set over you. Speak as earnestly as you can, but do not scream. Speak with all your heart, but with a mod- erate voice. It was said of our Lord, * He shall not cry:^ the word properly means, * He shall not scream.' Herein be a follower of me, as I am of Christ. I often speak loud, often vehemently ; but I never scream. I never strain myself: I dare not. I know it would be a sin against God and my own soul." They were instructed also not to pray above eight or ten minutes at most, \vithout intermis- sion, unless for some pressing reason. * The importance which he attached to this custom appears in his Journal. " I was surprised when I came to Chester, to find that there also morning preaching was quite left off; for this worthy reason, be- cause the people will not come, or, at least, not in the winter : if so, the Methodists are a fallen people. Here is proof: they have lost their first love ; and they never will or can recover it till they do their first works. As soon as I set foot in Georgia, I began preaching at five in the morning ; and every communicant, that is, every serious person in the town, constantly attended throughout the year : I mean, came eveiy morning, ^vinter and summer, unless in the case of sickness. They did so till I left the province. In the year 1738, when God began his great work in England, I began preaching at the same hour, winter and sum- mer, and never wanted a congregation. If they will not attend now, they have lost their zeal, and then, it can not be denied, they are a fallen people ; and, in the mean time, we are laboring to secure the preaching-houses to the next generation ! In the name of God, let us, if possible, secure the present generation from drawing back to perdi- tion. Let all the preachers, that are still alive to God, join together as one man, fast and pray, lift up their voice as a trumpet, be instant, in season, out of season, to con\"ince them they are fallen, and exhort them instantly to repent and do the first works ; this in particular, rising in the morning, without which neither their souls nor bodies can long remain in health." DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 95 Before an aspirant was admitted upon trial as an itiner- ant, he was exercised as a local preacher ; and many per- sons remained contentedly in this humbler office, which neither took them from their families, nor interfered with their worldly concerns. They carried on their business, whatever that might be, six days in the week, and preached on the seventh : but no person was admitted to this rank, unless he were thought competent by the preachers of the circuit. The places which they were to visit were deter- mined by the assistant, and their conduct underwent an in- quiry every quarter. Without their aid, Methodism could not have been kept up over the whole country, widely as it was diffiised ; and all that they received from the so- ciety was a little refreshment, at the cost of the people to whom they preached, and perhaps the hire of a horse for the day. A still more important part was performed by the lead- ers, who are to Methodism what the non-commissioned officers are in an army. The leader was appointed by the assistant : it was his business regularly to meet his class, question them, in order, as to their religious affections and practice, and advise, caution, or reprove, as the case might require. If any members absented themselves from the class-meeting, he was to visit them, and inquire into the cause ; and he was to render an account to the officiating preacher, of those whose conduct appeared suspicious, or was in any way reprehensible. By this means, and by the class-paper for every week, which the leaders were required to keep, and regularly produce, the preachers obtained a knowledge of every individual member within their circuit ; and, by the class-tickets, which were renewed every quar- ter, a regular census of the society was effected. The lead- ers not only perfoiTned the office of drilling the young re- cruits, they acted also as the tax-gatherers, and received the weekly contributions, of their class, which they paid to the local stewards, and the local stewards to the steward of the circuit. Thus far, the discipline of the Methodists was well de- vised : if the system itself had been unexceptionable, the spiritual police was perfect. But they were divided into bands as well as classes ; and this subdivision, while it an- swered no one end of possible utility, led to something worse than the worst practice of the Romish church. The men and the women, and the married and the single, met 06 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. separately in these bands, for the purpose of confessing to each other. They engaged to meet once a-week at least, and to speak, each in order, freely and plainly, the true state of their souls, and the faults they had committed, in thought, word, or deed, and the temptations they had felt during the week. They were to be asked " as many and as searching questions as may be, concerning their state, sins, and temptations these four, in particular, at every meeting : What known sin have you committed since our last meeting 1 What temptations have you met with ] How was you delivered ] What have you thought, said, or done, of which you doubt whether it be sin or not 1 And before any person entered into one of these bands, a prom- ise of the most unreserved openness was required. " Con- sider, do you desire we should tell you whatsoever we think, whatsoever we fear, whatsoever we hear, concerning you ] Do you desire that, in doing this, we should come as close as possible, that we should cut to the quick, and search your heart to the bottom ? Is it your desire and design to be, on this and all other occasions, entirely open, so as to speak every thing that is in your heart, without exception, with- out disguise, and without reserve 1" The nature, and the inevitable tendency of this mutual inquisition, must be ob- vious to every reflecting mind : and it is marvelous, that any man should have pemiitted his wife* or his daughter to enter into these bands, where it is not possible for inno- cence to escape contamination.! The institution of the select society or band was not lia- * Wesley has himself recorded an instance of mischief arising from these bands. " I searched to the bottom," says he, " a story I had heard in part, and found it another tale of real woe. Two of our so- ciety had lived together in uncommon harmony, when one, w^ho met in baud with E. F., to whom she had mentioned that she had found a temptation toward Dr. F., went and told her husband she was in love with him, and that she had it from her own mouth. The spirit of jeal- ousy seized him in a moment, and utterly took away his reason. And some one telling him his wife was at Dr. F.'s, on whom she had called that afternoon, he took a great stick, and ran away, and meeting her in the street, called out, Strumpet! strumpet! and struck her twice or thrice. He is now thoroughly convinced of her innocence ; but the water can not be gathered up again. He sticks there — ' I do thoroughly forgive you, but I can never love you more.' " After such an example, Wesley ought to have abolished this part of his institutions. t In one of his letters, Wesley says, " I believe Miss F. thought she felt evil before she did, and by that very thought, gave occasion to its reentrance." And yet he did not perceive the danger of leading his people into temptation, by making them recur to every latent thought DISCIPLINE OP THE METHODISTS. 97 ble to the same objection. This was to consist of persons who were earnestly athirst for the full image of God, and of those who continually walked in the light of God, having fellowship with the Father and the Son : in other words, of those who had attained to such a degree of spiritual pride, that they professed to be in this state — the adepts of Methodism, who were not ashamed to take their degree as perfect. " I saw," says Mr. Wesley, " it might be useful to give some advice to those who thus con- tinued in the light of God's countenance, which the rest of their brethren did not want, and probably could not re- ceive. My design was not only to direct them how to press after perfection, to exercise their every grace, and improve every talent they had received, and to incite them to love one another more, and to watch more carefully over each other; but also to have a select company, to whom I might unbosom myself on all occasions, without reserve ; and whom I could propose, to all their brethren, as pat- terns of love, of holiness, and of all good works. They had no need of being incumbered with many rules, having the best rule of all in their hearts." Nevertheless, the judi- cious injunction was given them, that nothing which was spoken at their meetings should be spoken again. Wesley says, he often felt the advantage of these meetings: he ex- perienced there, that in the multitude of counselors there is safety. But they placed the untenable doctrine of perfec- tion in so obtrusive and obnoxious a light, that he found it difficult to maintain them ; and they seem not to have be- come a regular part of the system. The watch-night was another of Wesley's objectionable institutions. It originated with some reclaimed colliers of Kingswood, who, having been accustomed to sit late on Saturday nights at the ale-house, transferred their weekly meeting, after their conversion, to the school-house, and continued there praying and singing hymns far into the morning. Wesley was advised to put an end to this : but, of evil; and compelling them to utter, with their lips, imaginations which might otherwise have been suppressed within their hearts for- ever ! [The bands were a part of Methodism borrowed from the Moravi- ans, and in their nature leaning to the faults of that system. They were, however, rather an appendage to Methodism, than an integral part of the system, as no one is required to belong to a band. As to the dreadful evils of them, it is all a bugbear of the brain of the poet laureate. See Appendix, Note XV.— VOL. IL — E 98 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. "upon weighing the thing thoroughly, and comparing it with the practice of the ancient Christians," he could see no cause to forbid it ; because he overlooked the difference between their times and his own, and shut his eyes to the obvious impropriety of midnight meetings. So he appointed them to be held once a-month, near the time of full moon. ** Ex- ceedingly great," says he, " are the blessings we have found therein ; it has generally been an extremely solemn season, when the word of God sunk deeper into the hearts even of those who till then knew him not. If it be said, this was only owing to the novelty of the thing (the circumstance which still draws such multitudes together at those seasons), or perhaps to the awful stillness of the night, I am not careful to answer in this matter. Be it so : however, the impres- sion then made on many souls has never since been effaced. Now, allowing that God did make use either of the novel- ty, or any other indifferent circumstance, in order to bring sinners to repentance, yet they are brought, and herein let us rejoice together. Now, may I not put the case further yet 1 If I can probably conjecture, that either by the novelty of this ancient custom, or by any other indifferent cir- cumstance, it is in my power to save a soul from death, and hide a multitude of sins, am I clear before God if I do not ] — if I do not snatch that brand out of the burn- ingr The practice which Wesley thus revived had been dis- countenanced, even in the most superstitious Catholic coun- tries, for its inconvenience, and its manifest ill tendency ; and therefore it had long been disused. While the con- verts to his doctrine retained the freshness of their first impression, watch-nights served to keep up the feeling to the pitch at which he wished to maintain it; and if any person, who was almost a Methodist, attended one of these meetings, the circumstances were likely to complete his conversion. For the sake of these advantages, Wesley dis- regarded the scandal which this part of his institutions was sure to occasion, and he seems not to have considered the effect among his own people, when their first fervor should have abated, and the vigils be attended as a mere formality. He also appointed three love-feasts in a quarter: one for the men, a second for the women, and the third for both to- gether; "that we might together eat bread," he says, "as the ancient Christians did, with gladness and singleness of heart. At these love-feasts (so we termed them, retaining the DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 09 name, as well as the thing, which was in use from the be- ginning), our food is only a little plain cake and water ; but we seldom return from them without being fed not only with the meat which perisheth, but with that which endureth to everlasting life." A traveling preacher presides at these meetings : any one who chooses may speak ; and the time is chiefly employed in relating what they call their Chris- tian experience. In this point, also, Mr. Wesley disre- garded the offense which he gave, by renewing a practice that had notoriously been abolished because of the abuses to which it led. It can not be supposed that a man of his sagacity should have overlooked the objections to which such meetings as the watch-nights and the love-feasts were obnoxious : his temper led him to despise and to defy public opinion ; and he saw how well these practices accorded with the inter- ests of Methodism as a separate society. It is not suffi- cient for such a society that its members should possess a calm, settled principle of religion to be their rule of life and their support in trial : religion must be made a thing of sensation and passion, craving perpetually for sympathy and stimulants, instead of bringing with it peace and con- tentment. The quiet regularity of domestic devotion must be exchanged for public performances ; the members are to be 'professors of religion; they must have a part to act, which will at once gratify the sense of self-importance, and afford employment for the uneasy and restless spirit with which they are possessed, Wesley complained that family religion was the grand desideratum among the Methodists ; but, in reality, his institutions were such as to leave little time for it, and to take away the inclination, by making it appear flat and unprofitable, after the excitement of class- meetings, band-meetings, love-feasts, and midnight assem- blies.* Whenever a chapel was built, care was taken that it should be settled on the Methodist plan ; that is, that the property should be vested, not in trustees, but in Mr. Wes- ley and the Conference. The usual form among the dis- senters would have been fatal to the general scheme of Methodism ; " because," said Wesley, " wherever the trus- * [These peculiarities have proved themselves to be at once the glory and the strength of Methodism : and as to the scandal so much depre- cated, it has not been found in the practical working of the system. " To them that are defiled and unbelieving nothing is pure." — Am. Ed."] 100 DIHCIPLIN^E OF THE METHODISTS. tees exert the power of placing and displacing preachers, there itinerant preaching is no more. When they have found a preacher they like, the rotation is at an end ; at least till they are tired of him, and turn him out. While he stays, the bridle is in his mouth. He would not dare speak the full and the whole truth; since, if he displeased the trustees, he would be liable to lose his bread ; nor would he dare expel a trustee, though ever so ungodly, from the society. The power of the trustees is greater than that of any patron, or of the king himself, who could fut in a preacher, but could not put him out^ Thus he argued, when a chapel at Birstall had been erroneously settled upon trustees ; and the importance of the point was felt so strongly by the Conference, that it was determined, in case these persons would not allow the deed to be can- celed, and substitute one upon the Methodist plan, to make a collection throughout the society, for the purpose of pur- chasing ground and building another chapel as near the one in question as possible. Wesley never wished to have any chapel or buria,l- gi'ound consecrated ; such ceremonies he thought relics of popery, and flatly superstitious. The impossibility of hav- ing them consecrated, led him, perhaps, to consider the cer- emony in this light, at a time when he had not proceeded so far as to exercise any ecclesiastical function for which he was not properly authorized. The buildings themselves were of the plainest kind : it was difficult to raise money* even for these ; but Mr. Wesley had the happy art of rep- resenting that as a matter of principle which was a matter of necessity ; and, in the tastelessness of their chapels, the Methodists were only upon a level with the dissenters of * The history of one of these chapels, at Sheemess, is curious. " It is now finished," says Wesley, in his Journal for 1786, " but by means never heard of. The building was undertaken, a few months since, by a little handful of men, without any probable means of finishing it ; but God so moved the hearts of the people in the dock, that even those who did not pretend to any religion, carpenters, shipwrights, laborers, ran up at all their vacant hours, and worked with all their might, without any pay. By these means a large square house was soon elegantly fin- ished, both within and without. And it is the neatest building, next to the new chapel in London, of any in the south of England." A meeting-house at Haslinden, in Lancashire, was built for them on speculation, by a person not connected with the society in any way. He desired only three per cent, for what he laid out (about £800), rovided the seats let for so much; of which, says Wesley, there is ttle doubt. This was in.l73a. DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 101 every description. The octagon,* which, of all architect- ural forms, is the ugliest, he preferred to any other, and wished it to be used wherever the ground would permit ; but it has not been generally followed. The directions were, that the windows should be sashes, opening down- ward ; that there should be no tub-pulpits, and no backs to the seats ; and that the men and women should sit apart. A few years before his death, the committee in London proposed to him that families should sit together, and that private pews might be erected ; ** thus," he exclaims, " overthrowing, at one blow, the discipline which I have been establishing for fifty years I" But, upon further con- sideration, they yielded to his opinion. He prided himself upon the singing in his meeting- houses ; there was a talent in his family both for music and verse ; and he availed himself, with great judgment, of both. A collection of hymns was published for the society, some few of which were selected from various authors; some were his own composition, but far the greater part were by his brother Charles. Perhaps no poems have ever been so devoutly committed to memory as these, nor quoted so often upon a death-bed. The manner in which they were sung tended to impress them strongly on the mind : the tune was made wholly subservient to the words, not the words to the tune.f The Romanists are indebted for their church-music to the Benedictines, an order to which all Europe is so deep- ly indebted for many things. Our fine cathedral service is derived from them : may it continue forever ! The psalm- ody of our churches was a popular innovation, during the ♦ His predilection for this form seems to have arisen from a sight of the Unitarian meeting-house at Norwich, " perhaps," he says, " the most elegant one in Europe. It is eight-square, built of the finest brick, with sixteen sash windows below, as many above, and eight sky-lights in the dome, which, indeed, are purely ornamental. The inside is finished in the highest taste, and is as clean as any nobleman's saloon. The com- munion-table is fine mahogany ; the very latches of the pew-doors are polished brass. How can it be thought that the old coarse Gospel should find admission here?" The sort of humility which is implied in this sneer, is well charactered by Landor, when he calls it " A tattered garb that pride wears when deform'd." It is no wonder that he was struck by the cleanness of the chapel. This curious item occurs in the minutes of Conference for 1776. " Q. 23. Complaint is made that sluts spoil our houses. How can we pre- vent this ? A. Let no known slut live in any of them." t [See Appendix, Note XVI.— ^w. Ed-^ 102 DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. first years of the Reformation ; and the psalms of Stern- hold and Hopkins were allowed* to be sung, not enjoined. The practice, however, obtained ; and having contributed in no slight measure to the religious revolution when the passion wherein it originated was gone by, it became a mere interlude in the service, serving no other purpose than that of allowing a little breathing-time to the minis- ter; and the manner in which this intei-\"al is filled, where there is no organ to supply the want of singers, or cover their defects, is too often irreverent and disgraceful. Aware of the great advantage to be derived from psalmody, and with an ear, as well as an understanding, alive to its abase, Wesley made it an essential part of the devotional service in his chapels ; and he triumphantly contrasted the prac- tice of his people, in this respect, with that of the churches. *' Their solemn addresses to God," said he, " are not inter- rupted either by the formal drawl of a parish-clerk, the screaming of boys, who bawl out what they neither feel nor understand, or the unseasonable and unmeaning im- pertinence of a voluntary on the organ. t When it is sea- sonable to sing praise to God, they do it with the spirit and the understanding also ; not in the miserable, scanda- lous doggerel of Hopkins and Stemhold,| but in psalms and hymns, which are both sense and poetry, such as would sooner provoke a critic to turn Christian, than a Christian to turn critic. What they sing is, therefore, a proper continuation of the spiritual and reasonable serv- ice, being selected for that end ; not by a poor humdrum wretch, who can scarcely read what he drones out with such an air of importance, but by one who knows what he * " Those who have searched into the matter with the utmost care and curiosity," says Collier (vol. ii., 326). "could never discover any authority, either from the crow-n or the convocation." t Yet Wesley has noticed that he once found at church an uncommon blessing, when he least of all expected it^ namely, "while the organ- ist was playing a voluntary." X I have lately looked into Hopkins and Stemhold ; and though I can not pretend that it is not " coarse frieze," or that a more dignified metrical version is not a desideratum ; yet I do say that it does not merit the harsh description of " miserable, scandalous doggerel," and that Stemhold and Hopkins are David and Asoph themselves, compared with Tate and Brady. There is assuredly a becoming dignity in the ba\-ing the Scripture itself sung, that fits a national church ; but yet I can not blind myself to the superior edification and generality of Christ- ian hjTnns, especially such as are Davia Evangilizans, i. e., the psalms interpreted. — S. T. C. DISCIPLINE OF THE METHODISTS. 103 is about, and how to connect the preceding with the follow- ing part of the service. Nor does he take just * two staves;' but more or less, as may best raise the soul to God ; espe- cially when sung in well composed and well adapted tunes; not by a handful of wild unawakened striplings, but by a whole serious congregation ; and these not lolling at ease, or in the indecent posture of sitting, drawling out one word after another; but all standing before God, and praising him lustily, and with a good courage." He especially en- joined that the whole congregation should sing, that there should be no repetition of words, no dwelling upon dis- jointed syllables, and that they should not sing in parts, but with one heart and voice, in one simultaneous and un- interrupted feeling.* The preachers were forbidden to introduce any hymns of their own composing : in other respects they had great latitude allowed them : they might use the Liturgy, if they pleased, or an abridgment of it, which Mr. Wesley had set forth ; or they might discard it altogether, and substi- tute an extemporaneous service, according to their own taste and that of the congregation. Like the Jesuits, in this respect, they were to adapt themselves to all men. The service was not long : Wesley generally concluded it within the hour.f * This feeling, however, must have been disturbed in a strange man- ner, if the preachers observed the directions of the first Conference, to guard against formality in singing, by often stopping short, and asking the people, "Now, do you know what you said last? Did you speak no more than you felt? Did you sing it as unto the Lord, wdth the spirit and with the understanding also ?" t [See Appendix, Note XVII.— ^m. Ed.'] CHAPTER XXII. METHODISM IN WALES AND IN SCOTLAND. Upon Wesley's first journey into Wales, he thought that most of the inhabitants were indeed ripe for the Gospel. *' I mean," says he, " if the expression appear strange, they are earnestly desirous of being instructed in it ; and as utterly ignorant of it they are as any Creek or Cherokee Indian. I do not mean they are ignorant of the name of Christ : many of them can say both the Lord's Prayer and the Belief ; nay, and some all the Catechism : but take them out of the road of what they have learned by rote, and they know no more (nine in ten of those with whom I conversed) either of Gospel salvation, or of that faith whereby alone we can be saved, than Chicali or Tomo Chichi." This opinion was foraied during a journey through the most civilized part of South Wales. He was not deceived in judging that the Welsh were a people highly susceptible of such impressions as he designed to make ; but he found himself disabled in his progress, by his ignorance of their language. *' Oh," he exclaims, " what a heavy curse was the confusion of tongues, and how grievous are the effects of it. All the birds of the air, all the beasts of the field, understand the language of their own species ; man only is a barbarian to man, unintelligi- ble to his own brethren !" This difficulty was insuperable. He found, however, a few Welsh clergymen, who entered into his views with honest ardor, and an extravagance of a new kind grew up in their congregations. After the preaching was over, any one who pleased gave out a verse of a hymn ; and this they sung over and over again, with all their might and main, thirty or forty times, till some of them worked themselves into a sort of drunkenness or madness : they were then violently agitated, and leaped up and down, in all manner of postures, frequently for hours together. " I think," says Wesley, "there needs no METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 105 great penetration to understand this. They are honest, upright men, who really feel the love of God in their hearts ; but they have little experience either of the ways of God or the devices of Satan ; so he serves himself by their simplicity, in order to wear them out, and to bring a discredit on the work of God." This was the beginning of the Jumpers.* Ralph and Ebenezer Erskine, the remarkable men who made the secession from the Scotch church, invited White- field into Scotland, before his breach with Wesley. Ac- cordingly, in the year 1741, he accepted the invitation ; and thinking it proper that they should have the first-fruits of his ministry in that kingdom, preached his first sermon in the seceding meeting-house belonging to Ralph Erskine, at Dunfermline. The room was thronged ; and when he had named his text, the rustling which was made by the congregation opening their Bibles all at once surprised him, who had never, till then, witnessed a similar practice. A few days afterward he met the Associate Presbytery of the Seceders, by their own desire ; a set of grave, venera- ble men. They soon proposed to form themselves into a presbytery, and were proceeding to choose a moderator, when Mr. Whitefield asked them for what purpose this was to be done : they made answer, it was to discourse and set him right about the matter of church government, and the solemn league and covenant. Upon this Mr. White- field observed, they might save themselves the trouble, for he had no scruples about it ; and that settling church gov- ernment, and preaching about the solemn league and cove- nant, was not his plan. And then he gave them some account of the history of his own mind, and the course of action in which he was engaged. This, however, was not satisfactory to the Associate Presbytery, though one of the synod apologized for him, urging that, as he had been bred and bom in England, and had never studied the point, he could not be supposed to be perfectly acquainted with the nature of their covenants, and therefore they ought to have patience with him. This was of no avail : it was answered, that no indulgence could be shown him ; for England had revolted most with respect to church * " At seven in the morning," says Whitefield, " have I seen perhaps ten thousand, from different parts, in the midst of a sermon, crying, Qogunniant bendyitti, ready to leap for joy." Had they been repre- hended at that time, this extravagant folly might have been preveuted, E* 106 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. governmeTit, and that he could not but be acquainted with the matter in debate. It was a new thing for Whitefield, who had been accustomed to receive homage wherever he went,, to be schooled in this manner ; but he bore this arrogant behavior with great complacency, and replied, that indeed he never yet had studied the solemn league and covenant, because he had been too busy about things which, in his judgment, were of greater importance. Sev- eral of them then cried out, that every pin of the tabernacle was precious. Whitefield was ready in reply : he told them that, in every building, there were outside and inside workmen ; that the latter was at that time his province ; and that, if they thought themselves called to the former, they might proceed in their own way, as he would do in his. The power of these persons, happily, was not so in- quisitorial as their disposition ; and when he seriously asked them what they wished him to do, they answered, that they did not desire him immediately to subscribe to the solemn league and covenant, but that he would preach for them exclusively till he had further light. " And why for them alone ]" he inquired. Ralph Erskine made an- swer, " They were the Lord's people." " I then," says Whitefield, " asked, whether there were no other Lord's people but themselves ] and, supposing all others were the devil's people, they certainly, I told them, had more need to be preached to ; and therefore I was more and more determined to go out into the highways and hedges ; and that if the Pope himself would lend me his pulpit, I would gladly proclaim the righteousness of Jesus Christ therein. Soon after this the company broke up ; and one of these otherwise venerable men immediately went into the meet- ing-house, and preached upon these words : * Watchman, what of the night ] Watchman, what of the night? The watchman said, The morning cometh, and also the night ; if ye will inquire, inquire ye ; return, come.' I attended : but the good man so spent himself, in the former part of his sermon, in talking against prelacy, the common prayer- book, the surplice, the rose in the hat, and such like exter- nals, that, when he came to the latter part of his text, to invite poor sinners to Jesus Christ, his breath was so gone, that he could scarce be heard. What a pity that the last was not first, and the first last ! The consequence of all this was an open breach. I retired, I wept, I prayed, and, after preaching in the fields, sat down and dined with METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 107 tliem, and then took a final leave.* At table, a gentle- woman said she had heard that I had told some people that the Associate Presbytery were building a Babel. I said, ' Madam, it is quite true ; and I believe the Babel will soon fall down about their ears.' But enough of this. Lord, what is man — what the best of men — but men at the best !" Coming as a stranger into Scotland, and being free from all prejudice and passion upon the subject, White- field saw the folly and the mischief of the schisms in which his new acquaintance were engaged. They spared no pains to win him over to their side. ** I find," said he, " Satan now turns himself into an angel of light, and stirs up God's children to tempt me to come over to some par- ticular party." To one of his correspondents he replies : " I wish you would not trouble yourself or me in writing about the corruption of the Church of England. I believe there is no church perfect under heaven ; but as God, by his providence, is pleased to send me forth simply to preach * In honor of Whitefield, I annex here part of a letter upon this subject, written a few days after this curious scene, and addressed to a son of one of the Erskines. " The treatment I met with from the As- sociate Presbytery was not altogether such as I expected. It grieved me as much as it did you. I could scarce refrain from bursting into a flood of tears. I wish all were like-minded with your honored father and uncle ; matters then would not be carried on with so high a hand. I fear they are led too much. Supposing the scheme of government which the Associate Presbytery contend for to be scriptural, yet for- bearance and long-suffering is to be exercised toward such as may differ from them : and, I am verily persuaded, there is no such form of government prescribed in the book of God, as excludes a toleration of all other forms whatsoever. Was the New Testament outward taber- nacle to be built as punctual as the Old, as punctual directions would have been given about the building it: whereas it is only deduced by inference ; and thus we see Independents, Presbyterians, and Episco- palians bring the same text to support their particular scheme : and I believe Jesus Christ thereby would teach us to exercise forbearance and long-suffering to each other. Was the Associate Presbytery scheme to take effect, out of conscience, if they acted consistently, they must restrain and grieve, if not persecute, many of God's children, who could not possibly come into their measures: and I doubt not but their present violent methods, together with the corruptions of that assembly, will cause many to turn Independents, and set up particular churches of their own. This was the effect of Archbishop Laud's acting with so high a hand ; and whether it be presbytery, or episco- pacy, if managed in the same manner, it will be productive of the same effects. O, dear sir, I love and honor your pious father. Re- member me in the kindest manner to the good old man. I pray God his last days may not be employed too much in the non-essentiala of religion." 108 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. the Gospel to all, I think there is no need of casting myself out." He was invited to Aberdeen by the minister of one of the kirks in that city ; but the minister's co-pastor had prepossessed the magistrates against him, so that when he arrived- they refused to let him preach in the kirk-yard. They had, however, sufficient curiosity to attend when he officiated in his friend's pulpit ; the congregation was very large, and, in Whitefield's own words, *' light and life fled all around." In the afternoon it was the other pastor's turn : he began his prayers as usual ; but, in the midst of them, he named Whitefield by name, whom he knew to be then present, and entreated the Lord to forgive the dis- honor that had been put i^pon him, when that man was suffered to preach in that pulpit. Not satisfied with this, he renewed the attack in his sermon, reminded his congre- gation that this person was a curate of the Church of Eng- land, and quoted some passages from his first printed discourses, which he said were grossly Arminian. Most of the congregation," says Whitefield, " seemed surprised and chagrined; especially his good-natured colleague, who, immediately after sermon, without consulting me in the least, stood up, and gave notice that Mr. Whitefield would preach in about half-an-hour. The intei-val being so short, the magistrates returned into the sessions-house, and the congregation patiently waited, big with expectation of hearing my resentment. At the time appointed I went up, and took no other notice of the good man's ill-timed zeal, than to observe, in some part of my discourse, that if the good old gentleman had seen some of my later writings, wherein I had corrected several of my former mistakes, he would not have expressed himself in such strong terms. The people being thus diverted from controversy with man, were deeply impressed with what they heard from the word of God. All was hushed, and more than solemn. And on the morrow the magistrates sent for me, expressed themselves quite concerned at the treatment I had met with, and begged I would accept of the freedom of the city."_ This triumph Whitefield obtained, as much by that perfect self-command which he always possessed in pub- lic, as by his surpassing oratory. But wherever he could obtain a hearing, his oratory was triumphant, and his success in Scotland was, in some respects, greater than it had yet been in England. " Glory be to God," he says, METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 109 " he is doing great things here. I walk in the continual sunshine of his countenance. Congregations consist of many thousands. Never did I see so many Bibles, nor people look into them, when I am expounding, with such attention. Plenty of tears flow from the hearers' eyes. I preach twice daily, and expound at private houses at night ; and am employed in speaking to souls under distress great part of the day. Every morning I have a constant levee of wounded souls, many of whom are quite slain by the law. At seven in the morning (this was at Edinburgh) we have a lecture in the fields, attended not only by the com- mon people, but persons of great rank. I have reason to think several of the latter sort are coming to Jesus. I am only afraid lest people should idolize tne instrument, and not look enough to the glorious Jesus, in whom alone I desire to glory. I walk continually in the comforts of the Holy Ghost. The love of Christ quite strikes me dumb. O grace, grace ! let that be my song." In Scot- land it was that he first found access to people of rank. " Saints," says he, " have been stirred up and edified ; and many others, I believe, are translated from darkness to light, and from the kingdom of Satan to the kingdom of God. The good that has been done is inexpressible. I am intimate with three noblemen, and several ladies of quality, who have a great liking for the things of God. I am now writing in an earl's house, surrounded with fine furniture ; but, glory be to free grace, my soul is in love only with Jesus !" His exertions increased with his success. " Yesterday," he says, *' I preached three times, and lectured at night. This day Jesus has enabled me to preach seven times ; once in the church, twice at the girls' hospital, once in the park, once at the old people's hospital, and afterward twice at a private house : notwithstanding, I am now as fresh as when I arose in the morning : * They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength ; they shall mount on wings like eagles.' It would delight your soul to see the effects of the power of God. Both in the church and park the Lord was with us. The girls in the hospital were exceedingly afiected, and so were the standers-by. One of the mistresses told me, she is now awakened in the morning by the voice of prayer and praise ; and the mas- ter of the boys says, that they meet together every night to sing and pray ; and when he goes to their rooms at 110 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. night, to see if all be safe, he generally disturbs them at their devotions. The presence of God at the old people's hospital was really very wonderful. The Holy Spirit seemed to come down like a mighty rushing wind. The mourning of the people was like the weeping in the valley of Hadad-Rimmon. They appear more and more hungry. Every day I hear of some fresh good wrought by the power of God. I scarce know how to leave Scotland." The representation thus given by this remarkable man, of the effect which his preaching produced upon all ranks and descriptions of people, is not exaggerated. Dr. Frank- lin has justly observed, that it would have been fortunate for his reputation if he had left no written works ; his tal- ents would then have been estimated by the effect which they are known to have produced ; for, on this point, there is the evidence of witnesses whose credibility can not be disputed. Whitefield's writings, of every kind, are cer- tainly below mediocrity. They afford the measure of his knowledge and of his intellect, but not of his genius as a preacher. His printed sermons, instead of being, as is usual, the most elaborate and finished discourses of their author, have indeed the disadvantage of being precisely those upon which the least care had been bestowed. This may be easily explained. " By hearing him often," says Franklin, " I came to distinguish easily between sermons newly composed, and those which he had often preached in the course of his travels. His delivery of the latter was so improved by frequent repetition, that every accent, every emphasis, every modulation of voice, was so perfectly well turned, and well placed, that, without being interested in the sub- ject, one could not help being pleased with the discourse : a pleasure of much the same kind with that received from an excellent piece of music. This is an advantage itiner- ant preachers have over those who are stationary, as the latter can not well improve their delivery of a sermon by so many rehearsals." It was a great advantage, but it was not the only one, nor the greatest which he derived from repeating his discourses, and reciting instead of reading them. Had they been delivered from a written copy, one delivery would have been like the last ; the paper would have operated like a spell, from which he could not de- part — invention sleeping, while the utterance followed the eye. But when he had nothing before him except the METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. Ill audience whom he was addressing, the judgment and the imagination, as well as the memory, were called forth. Those parts were omitted which had been felt to come feebly from the tongue, and fall heavily upon the ear ; and their place was supplied by matter newly laid-in in the course of his studies, or fresh from the feeling of the moment. They who lived with him could trace him in his sermons to the book which he had last been reading, or the subject which had recently taken his attention. But the salient points of his oratory were not prepared pass- ages, — they were bursts of passion, like jets from a Gey- ser, when the spring is in full play. The theatrical talent which he displayed in boyhood manifested itself strongly in his oratory. When he was about to preach, whether it was from a pulpit, or a table in the streets, or a rising ground, he appeared with a so- lemnity of manner, and an anxious expression of counte- nance, that seemed to show how deeply he was possessed with a sense of the importance of what he was about to say. His elocution was perfect. They who heard him most frequently could not remember that he ever stumbled at a word, or hesitated for want of one. He never falter- ed, unless when the feeling to which he had wrought him- self overcame him, and then his speech was interrupted by a flow of tears. Sometimes he would appear to lose all self-command, and weep exceedingly, and stamp loudly and passionately ; and sometimes the emotion of his mind exhausted him, and the beholders felt a momentary appre- hension even for his life. And, indeed, it is said that the effect of this vehemence upon his bodily frame was tre- mendous ; that he usually vomited after he had preached, and sometimes discharged, in this manner, a considerable quantity of blood. But this was when the effort was over, and nature was left at leisure to relieve herself While he was on duty, he controlled all sense of infirmity or pain, and made his advantage of the passion to which he had given way. " You blame me for weeping," he would say, but how can I help it, when you will not weep for your- selves, though your immortal souls are upon the verge of destruction, and, for aught I know, you are hearing your last sermon, and may never more have an opportunity to have Christ offei*ed to you !" Sometimes he would set before his congregation the agony of our Savior, as though the scene was actually be- 112 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. fore them. " Look yonder !" he would say, stretching out his hand, and pointing while he spoke, " what is it that I see ] It is my agonizing Lord ! Hark, hark ! do you not hear 1 — 0 my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me ! Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done !" This he introduced frequently in his sermons ; and one who lived with him says, the effect was not destroyed by repetition ; even to those who knew what was coming, it came as for- cibly as if they had never heard it before. In this respect it was like fine stage acting ; and, indeed, Whitefield in- dulged in a histrionic manner of preaching, which would have been offensive, if it had not been rendered admirable by his natural gracefulness and inimitable power. Some- times, at the close of a sermon, he would personate a judge, about to perform the last awful part of his office. With his eyes full of tears, and an emotion that made his speech falter, after a pause which kept the whole audience in breathless expectation of what was to come, he would say, " I am now going to put on my condemning cap. Sinner, 1 must do it : I must pronounce sentence upon you !" and then, in a tremendous strain of eloquence, describing the eteiTial punishment of the wicked, he recited the words of Christ, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." When he spoke of St. Peter, how, after the cock crew, he went out and wept bitterly, he had a fold of his gown ready, in which he hid his face. Perfect as it was, histrionism like this would have pro- duced no lasting effect upon the mind, had it not been for the unaffected earnestness and the indubitable sinceiity of the preacher, which equally characterized his manner, whether he rose to the height of passion in his discourse, or won the attention of the motley crowd by the introduc- tion of familiar stories, and illustrations adapted to the meanest capacity.* To such digressions his disposition led him, which was naturally inclined to a comic playfulness. * Wesley says of him, in his Journal, " How wise is God, in giving different talents to different preachers ! Even the httle improprieties, both of his lan^age and manner, were a means of profiting many, who would not have been touched by a more correct discourse, or a more cahn and regular manner of speaking." St. Augustin somewhere says, that is the best key which opens the door: quid enim prodest clavis aurea si aperire quod volumus non potest 1 aut quod obest lignea, si hoe potest, quando nihil qucerimus nisi patere quod clau sum est? — [See Ap- pendix, Note XVIII.— ^w. Ed.] METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 113 Minds of a certain power will sometimes express their strongest feelings with a levity at which formalists are shocked, and which dull men are wholly unable to under- stand. But language which, when, coldly repeated, might seem to border upon irreverence and burlesque, has its effect in popular preaching, when the intention of the speaker is perfectly understood : it is suited to the great mass of the people ; it is felt by them, when better things would have produced no impression ; and it is borne away, when wiser arguments would have been forgotten. There was another and more uncommon way in which Whitefield's peculiar talent sometimes was indulged : he could direct his discourse toward an individual so skillfully, that the congregation had no suspicion of any particular purport in that part of the sermon ; while the person at whom it was aimed felt it, as it was directed, in its full force. There was sometimes a degree of sportiveness almost akin to mischief in his humor.* Remarkable instances are related of the manner in which he impressed his hearers. A man at Exeter stood with stones in his pocket, and one in his hand, ready to throw at him ; but he dropped it before the sermon was far advanced, and going up to him after the preaching was over, he said, " Sir, I came to hear you with an intention to break your head ; but God, through your ministry, has giv- en me a broken heart." A ship-builder was once asked what he thought of him. '* Think !" he replied, " I tell you, sir, ♦ Mr. Winter relates a curious anecdote of his preaching at a maid- servant who had displeased him by some negligence in the morning. " In the evening," says the writer, " before the family retired to rest, I found her under great dejection, the reason of which I did not appre- hend ; for it did not strike me that, in exemplifying a conduct incon- sistent with the Christian's professed fidelity to his Redeemer, he was drawing it from remissness of duty in a living character ; but she felt it so sensibly as to be greatly distressed by it, until he relieved her mind by his usually amiable deportment. The next day, being about to leave town, he called out to her ' farewell she did not make her appear- ance, which he remarked to a female friend at dinner, who replied, ' Sir, you have exceedingly wounded poor Betty.' This excited in him a hearty laugh ; and when I shut the coach-door upon him, he said, ' Be sure to remember me to Betty ; tell her the account is settled, and that I have nothing more against her.' " Mr. Thornton, in a letter to Mr. Powley (Feb. 14, 1788), speaking of Mr. Winter as " one whose piety and judgment he had a great opinion of," says, " he traveled with Mr. Whitefield, and was promised ordina- tion ; but, as they shuflBed him oflf, he was necessitated to join the dis- senters." 114 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. every Sunday that I go to my parish church, I can build a ship from stem to stern under the sermon ; but, were it to save my soul, under Mr. Whitefield, I could not lay a sin- gle plank." Hume pronounced him the most ingenious preacher he had ever heard ; and said, it was worth while to go twenty miles to hear him.* But, perhaps, the greatest proof of his persuasive powers was, when he drew from Franklin's pocket the money which that clear, cool reas- oner had determined not to give : it was for the orphan- house at Savannah. " I did not," says the American phi- losopher, " disapprove of the design ; but as Georgia was then destitute of materials and workmen, and it was pro- posed to send them from Philadelphia, at a great expense, I thought it would have been better to have built the house at Philadelphia, and brought the children to it. This I ad- vised ; but he was resolute in his first project, rejected my counsel, and I therefore refused to contribute. I happen- ed, soon after, to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a collec- tion, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he pro- ceeded, I began to soften, and concluded to give the cop- per; another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver ; and he finish- ed so admirably, that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all."t No wonder that such a preacher should be admired and * One of his flights of oratory, not in the best taste, is related on Hume's authority. " After a solemn pause, Mr. Whitefield thus ad- dressed his audience : — The attendant angel is just about to leave the threshold, and ascend to Heaven; and shall he ascend and not bear with him the news of one sinner, among all the multitude, reclaimed from the error of his ways ! To ^ive the gi-eater effect to this exclama- tion, he stamped with his foot, lilted up his hands and eyes to Heaven, and cried aloud, Stop, Gabriel ! stop, Gabriel ! stop, ere you enter the sacred portals, and yet carry with you the news of one sinner convert- ed to God !" Hume said this address was accompanied with such ani- mated, yet natural action, that it surpassed any thing he ever saw or heard in any other preacher. t " At this sermon," continues Franklin, " there was also one of our club, who, being of my sentiments respecting the building in Georgia, and suspecting a collection might be intended, had, by precaution, emp- tied his pockets before he came from home: toward the conclusion of the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and applied to a neighbor, who stood near him, to lend him some money for the purpose. The request was fortunately made to, perhaps, the only man METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 115 followed in a country where the habits of the people were devotional. On his second visit to Scotland, he was met on the shore at Leith by multitudes, weeping and blessing him, and they followed his coach to Edinburgh, pressing to welcome him when he alighted, and to hold him in their arms. Seats, with awnings, were erected in the park, in the form of an amphitheater, for his preaching. Several youths left their parents and masters to follow him as his servants and children in the Gospel; but he had sense enough to show them their error, and send them back. The effect which he produced was maddening. At Cam- buslang it exceeded any thing which he had ever witness- ed in his career, *' I preached at two," he says, to a vast body of people, and at six in the evening, and again at nine. Such a commotion, surely, never was heard of, es- pecially at eleven at night. For about an hour and a half there was such weeping, so many falling into deep distress, and expressing it various ways, as is inexpressible. The people seem to be slain by scores. They are carried off, and come into the house, like soldiers wounded in and car- ried off a field of battle. Their cries and agonies are ex- ceedingly affecting. Mr. M. preached, after I had ended, till past one in the morning, and then could scarce persuade them to depart. All night, in the fields, might be heard the voice of prayer and praise. Some young ladies were found by a gentlewoman praising God at break of day : she went and joined with them." Soon afterward he re- turned there to assist at the sacrament. " Scarce ever," he says, " was such a sight seen in Scotland. There were, undoubtedly, upward of twenty thousand persons. Two tents were set up, and the holy sacrament was administer- ed in the fields. When I began to serve a table, the power of God was felt by numbers ; but the people crowded so upon me, that I was obliged to desist, and go to preach at one of the tents, while the ministers served the rest of the tables. God was with them, and with his people. There was preaching all day by one or another ; and in the even- ing, when the sacrament was ov-er, at the request of the ministers, I preached to the whole congregation. I preach- ed about an hour and a half. Surely it was a time much in the company who had the firmness not to be affected by the preach- er His answer was, ' At any other time, friend Hopkinson, I would lend to thee freely, but not now ; for thee seems to me to be out of thy right senses.' " 116 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. to be remembered. On Monday morning I preached again to near as many ; but such a universal stir I never saw be- fore. The motion fled as swift as lightning from one end of the auditory to another. Yon might have seen thousands bathed in tears : some at the same time wring- ing their hands, others almost swooning, and others crying out and mourning over a pierced Savior." The Erskines were astonished at all this. One of the Associated Presbytery published a pamphlet against him, wherein, with the true virulence of bigotry, he ascribed these things to the influence of the devil ; and the heads of the Seceders appointed a public fast, to humble them- selves for his being in Scotland, whither they themselves had invited him, and for what they termed the delusion at Cambuslang. They might have so called it, with more propriety, if they had not been under a delusion them- selves ; for Whitefield perfectly understood their feelings, when he said, " All this, because I would not consent to preach only for them till I had light into, and could take the solemn league and covenant !" He made many other visits to Scotland ; and there, indeed, he seems to have obtained that introduction to persons of rank which in its consequences led to the establishment of a college for Calvinistic Methodism in England. But he aimed at noth- ing more than could be produced by his own preaching : it was neither congenial to his talents nor his views to organize a body of followers ; and, in the intervals between his visits, the seed which he had scattered was left to grow up or to wither, as it might. Wesley had other views : his aim, wherever he went, was to form a society. It was not till ten years after his former colleague had first visited Scotland, that he resolved to go there. A reconciliation had then taken place be- tween them — for enmity could not be lasting between two men who knew each other's sincerity and good intentions so well — and Whitefield would have dissuaded him from going. " You have no business there," he said ; for your principles are so well known, that, if you spoke like an angel, none would hear you ; and if they did, you would have nothing to do but to dispute with one and another from morning to night." Wesley replied, " If God sends me, people will hear. And I will give them no provocation to dispute ; for I will studiously avoid contro- verted points, and keep to the fundamental truths of Christ- METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. Ill ianity ; and if any still begin to dispute, they may, but I will not dispute with them." He was, however, so aware of the bitter hostility with which Arminian principles would be received in Scotland, that, he says, when he went into that kingdom, he had no intention of preaching there ; nor did he imagine that any person would desire him so to do. He might have reckoned with more confidence upon the curiosity of the people. He was invited to preach at Mus- selborough : the audience remained like statues from the beginning of the sermon till the end, and he flattered him- self that "the prejudice which the devil had been several years planting, was torn up by the roots in one hour." From this time Scotland was made a part of his regular rounds. " Surely," says he, with God nothing is im- possible \ Who would have believed, five-and-twenty years ago, either that the minister would have desired it, or that I should have consented to preach in a Scotch kirk !" He flattered himself egregiously when he accepted these beginnings as omens of good success, and when he sup- posed that the prejudice against him was eradicated. An old Burgher minister at Dalkeith preached against him, afiinning that, if he died in his present sentiments, he would be damned ; and the fanatic declared that he would stake his own salvation upon it. It was well for him that these people were not armed with temporal authority. *' The Seceders," says Wesley, " who have fallen in my way, are more uncharitable than the Papists themselves. I never yet met a Papist who avowed the principle of murdering heretics. But a Seceding minister being asked, * Would not you, if it was in your power, cut the throats of all the Methodists V replied directly, * Why, did not Samuel hew Agag in pieces before the Lord V I have not yet met a Papist in this kingdom who would tell me to my face, all but themselves must be damned ; but I have seen Seceders enough who make no scruple to affirm, none but themselves could be saved. And this is the natural consequence of their doctrine ; for, as they hold that we are saved by faith alone, and that faith is the hold- ing such and such opinions, it follows, all who do not hold those opinions have no faith, and therefore can not be saved." Even Whitefield, predestinarian as he was, was regarded as an abomination by the Seceders : how, then, was it possible that they should tolerate Wesley, who 118 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. taught that redemption was offered to all mankind]* A Methodist one day comforted a poor woman, whose child appeared to be dying, by assuring her that, for an infant, death would only be the exchange of this miserable life for a happy eternity ; and the Seceder, to whose flock she belonged, was so shocked at this doctrine, that the deep- dyed Calvinist devoted the next Sabbath to the task of convincing his people, that the souls of non-elect infants were doomed to certain and inevitable damnation. But it was Wesley's fortune to meet with an obstacle in Scotland more fatal to Methodism than the fiercest opposi- tion would have been. Had his followers been more gen- erally opposed, they would have multiplied faster : oppo- sition would have inflamed their zeal ; it was neglected, and died away. From time to time he complains, in his Journal, of the cold insensibility of the people. " O, what a difference is there between the living stones," he says, speaking of the Northumbrians, " and the dead, unfeeling multitudes in Scotland. At Dundee," he observes, "I admire the people ; so decent, so serious, and so perfectly unconcemed !" " At Glasgow I preached on the Old Green to a people, the greatest part of whom hear much, Itnoio every thing, and feel nothing." They had been startled by the thunder and lightning of Whitefield's ora- tory ; but they were as unmoved by the soft persuasive rhetoric of Wesley, as by one of their own Scotch mists. Wesley endeavored to account for this mortifying fail- ure, and to discover " what could be the reason why the hand of the Lord (who does nothing without a cause) was almost entirely stayed in Scotland." He imputed it to the unwillingness of those, who were otherwise favorably in- clined, to admit the preaching of illiterate men ; and to the rude bitterness and bigotry of those who regarded an Arminian as an Infidel, and the Church of England as bad as the Church of Rome. The Scotch bigots, he said, were beyond all others. He answered, before a large congre- gation at Dundee, most of the objections which had been made to him. He was a member of the Church of Eng- land, he said, but he loved good men of every church. * Not only Wesley, but his biographer, seems to make a difference where I can find none. Surely Whitefield thought it his duty to offer the Gospel to all, though he believed it foreseen by God that only a certain number would receive it. — S. T. C. [Or rather, decreed, by God that only a certain number should re- ceive it. — Am. Ed.'] METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. 119 He always used a short private prayer when he attended the public service of God : why did not they do the same 1 Was it not according to the Bible ] He stood whenever he was singing the praises of God in public : were there not plain precedents for this in Scripture ] He always knelt before the Lord when he prayed in public ; and generally, in public, he used the Lord's prayer, because Christ has taught us, when we pray, to say, our Father, which art in heaven. But it was not by such frivolous objections as these that the success of Methodism in Scot- land was impeded. The real cause of its failure was, that it was not wanted — that there was no place for it : the discipline of the kirk was not relaxed ; the clergy pos- sessed great influence over their parishioners ; the children were piously brought up ; the population had not out- grown the church establishment ; and the Scotch, above all other people, deserved the praise of being a frugal, indus- trious, and religious nation. Obvious as this is, Wesley seems not to have perceived it : and it is evident that he regarded botli the forms and discipline of the church of Scotland, with a disposition rather to detect what was objectionable, than to acknowl- edge what was good.* '* Lodging with a sensible man," he writes, " I inquired particularly into the present discipline of the Scotch parishes. In one parish, it seems, there are twelve ruling elders ; in another, there are fourteen. And what are these 1 men of great sense and deep experience 1 Neither one nor the other : but they are the richest men in the parish. And are the richest, of course, the best and the wisest men 1 Does the Bible teach this 1 I fear not. What manner of governors, then, will these be ] Why, they are generally just as capable of governing a parish as of commanding an army !" Had he been free from preju- * One of his charges against the Scotch clergy was, that " with pride, bitterness, and bigotry, self-indulgence was joined ; self-denial was little taught and practiced. It is well if some of them did not despise, or even condemn, all self-denial in things indifferent, as in apparel or food, as nearly allied to popery." (Jom-nal x., p. 20.) And in one of his sermons he says, " There is always a fast-day in the week preceding the administration of the Lord's Supper (in Scotland). But occasion- ally looking into a book of accounts, in one of their vestries, I observed so much set down for the dinners of the ministers on the fast-day : and I am infonned there is the same article in them all. And is there any doubt but that the people fast just as their ministers do ? But what a farce is this ! what a miserable burlesque upon a plain Christian duty !" (Works, vol. X., p. 419.) 120 METHODISM IS SCOTLAND. dice, instead of being led away by an abuse of words, he would have perceived how the fact stood, that the elders were required to be respectable in their circumstances, as well as in character ; and that, without that respectability, they could not have obtained respect. That the forms of the kirk, or, rather, its want of forms, should offend him, is not surprising. '* O," he cries, " what a difference is there between the English and the Scotch mode of burial ! The English does honor to human nature, and even to the poor remains that were once a temple of the Holy Ghost : but when I see in Scotland a coffin put into the earth, and covered up without a word spoken, it reminds me of what was spoken concerning Jehoiakim, He shall he buried with the burial of an ass'' It was, indeed, no proof of judg- ment, or of feeling, to reject the finest and most affecting ritual that was ever composed — a service that finds its way to the heart, when the heart stands most in need of such consolation, and is open to receive it. Yet Wesley might have known, that the silent interment of the Scotch is not without solemnity; and in their lonely burial-g-rounds, and family burial-places, he might have seen something worthy of imitation in England. Writing at Glasgow, he says, My spirit was moved within me at the sermons I heard, both morning and after- noon. They contained much truth, but were no more likely to awaken one soul than an Italian opera." The truth was, that he did not understand the Scotch character, and therefore condemned the practice of those preachers who did. I spoke as closely as I could," he says of his own sermons, " and made a pointed application to the hearts of all that were present. I am convinced this is the only way whereby we can do any good in Scotland, This very day I heard many excellent truths delivered in the kirk ; but as there was no application, it was likely to do as much good as the singing of a lark. I wonder the pious ministers in Scotland are not sensible of this : they can not but see that no sinners are convinced of sin — none converted to God, by this way of preaching. How strange is it, then, that neither reason nor experience teaches them to take a better way !" They aimed at no such effect.* The new-birth of the Methodists, their instantaneous con- versions, their assurance, their sanctification, and their • No ? What ? not to convince any sinner of his sins T — S. T-. C. METHODIriM IN SCOTLAND. 121 perfection, were justly regarded as extravagances by the Scotch as well as by the English clergy. It was with more reason that Wesley groaned over the manner in which the Reformation had been effected in Scotland ; and, when he stood amid the ruins of Aberbro- thock, exclaimed, " God deliver us from reforming mobs !" Nor would he admit of the apology that is offered for such havoc, and for the character of John Knox. I know," he says, " it is commonly said, the work to be done needed such a spirit. Not so : the work of God does not, can not need the work of the devil to forward it. And a calm, even spirit goes through rough work far better than a furi- ous one. Although, therefore, God did use, at the time of the Reformation, sour, overbearing, passionate men, yet he did not use them because they were such, but notwithstand- ing they were so. And there is no doubt he would have used them much more, had they been of a humbler, milder spirit." On the other hand, he bore testimony to the re- markable decorum with which public worship was con- ducted by the Episcopalians in Scotland : it exceeded any thing which he had seen in England; and he admitted, that even his own congregations did not come up to it. He did, however, this justice to the Scotch, that he ac- knowledged they were never offended at plain dealing; and that, in this respect, they were a pattern to all man- kind. Nor did he ever meet with the slightest molestation from mobs, or the slightest insult. One day, however, a warrant was issued against him at Edinburgh, by the sheriff, and he was carried to a house adjoining the Tolbooth. A certain George Sutherland, who, to his own mishap, had at one time been a member of the society, had deposed, that Hugh Sanderson, one of John Wesley's preachers, had taken from his wife one hundred pounds in money, and up- ward of thirty pounds in goods ; and had, beside that, ter- rified her into madness ; so that, through the want of her help, and the loss of business, he was damaged five hun- dred pounds. He had deposed also, that the said John Wesley and Hugh Sanderson, to evade his pursuit, were preparing to fly the country ; and upon these grounds had obtained a warrant to search for, seize, and incarcerate them in the Tolbooth, till they should find security for their appearance. The sheriff, with great indiscretion, granted this warrant against Wesley, who could in no way be held legally responsible for the conduct of any of his preachers ; VOL. II. — F 122 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. but when the affair was tried, the accusation was proved to be so false and calumnious, that the persecutor was heavily- fined.* Looking for any cause of failure, rather than the real one,i Wesley imputed the want of success in Scotland to the disposition which his preachers manifested to remain stationary there. We are not called," he says, " to sit still in one place : it is neither for the health of our souls nor bodies : we will have traveling preachers in Scotland, or none. I will serve the Scotch as we do the English, or leave them. While I live, itinerant preachers shall be itin- erants, if they choose to remain in connection with us. The thing is fixed ; the manner of effecting it, is to be consid-" ered." But here lay the difficulty : for the spiritual war- fare of Methodism was carried on upon the principle of deriving means from its conquests ; and the errant-preach- er who failed of success in his expeditions, oftentimes fast- ed, when there was no virtue of self-denial in the compul- sory abstinence. A curious instance of this occurred in the case of Thomas Taylor, one of those preachers who tempered zeal with judgment, and who found means, during his itinerancy, by the strictest economy of time, to acquire both the Greek and Hebrew languages. This person was appointed to Glasgow. He had gone through hard service in Wales and in Ireland, in wild countries, and among wild men ; but this populous city presented a new scene, and offered something more discouraging than either bodily fatigue or bodily danger. There were no Methodists here, no place of entertainment, no place to preach in, no friend with whom to communicate : it was a hard winter, and he was in a strange land. Having, however, taken a lodging, he gave out that he should preach on the Green ; a taWe was carried to the place, and going there at the appointed time, he found — two barbers' boys and two old women waiting. " My very soul," he says, ** sunk within me. I had traveled by land and by water near six hundred miles to this place, and behold my congregation ! None but they who have experienced it, can tell what a task it is to stand out in the open air to preach to nobody, especially in such a place * One thousand pounds, says Wesley, in his Journal ; and omits to add, that it was one thousand pounds Scotch, Anglice, a thousand shil- lings. t [See Appendix, Note XIX.— ^Im. Ed.] METHODISM IN eCOTLANO. 123 as Glasgow !" Neverthelesg, he mounted liis table, and began to sing: the singing he had entirely to himself; but perseverance brought about him some two hundred poor people ; and continuing, day after day, he collected at last large audiences. One evening, the largest congregation that he had ever seen was assembled. His table was too low ; and even when a chair was placed upon it, the ros- trum was still not sufficiently elevated for the multitudes who surrounded him ; so he mounted upon a high wall, and cried aloud, " The hour is coming, and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and they that hear shall live !" They were still as the dead ; and he conceived great hope, from the profound attention with which they listened ; but when he had done, he says, ** they made a lane for me to walk through the huge multitude, while they stood staring at me, but no one said, Where dwellest thouf This reception brought with it double mortification — to the body, as well as the mind. An itinerant always count- ed upon the hospitality of his flock, and stood, indeed, in need of it. Taylor had every thing to pay for; his room, fire, and attendance cost him three shillings per week ; his fare was poor in proportion to his lodging ; and to keep up his credit with his landlady, he often committed the pious fraud of dressing himself as if he were going out to dinner, and, after a dry walk, returned home hungry. He never, in all the rest of his life, kept so many fast-days. He sold his horse : this resource, however, could not maintain him long ; and, in the midst of his distress, a demand was made upon him by one of his hearers, which was not likely to give him a favorable opinion of the national character. This man, perceiving that Taylor was a bad singer, and frequently embarrassed by being obliged to sing the Scotch version (because the people knew nothing of the Method- ist hymns), offered his services to act as precentor, and lead off the psalms. This did excellently well, till he brought in a bill of thirteen and fourpence for his work, which was just fourpence a-time : the poor preacher paid the demand, and dismissed him and the Scotch psalms together. Tay- lor's perseverance was not, however, wholly lost. Some dissenters from the kirk were then building what is called in Glasgow a Kirk of Relief, for the purpose of choosing their own minister. One of the leading men had become intimate with him, and offered to secure him a majority of 124 METHODISM IN SCOTLAND. the voters. This was no ordinary temptation : comfort, honor, and credit, with c£140 a-year, in exchange for hunger and contempt ; but there was honor also on the other side. The preacher, though he was alone in Glasgow, belonged to a well organized and increasing society, where he had all the encouragement of cooperation, friendship, sympa- thy, and applause. He rejected the offer ; and, before the spring, he formed a regular society, of about forty persons, who procured a place to meet in, and furnished it with a pulpit and seats. "When they had thus housed him, they began to inquire how he was maintained ; if he had an estate ; or what supplies from England. He then explain- ed to them his own circumstances, and the manner in which the preachers were supported, by small contributions. This necessary part of the Methodist economy was cheer- fully established among them ; and when he departed, he left a certain provision for his successor, and a flock of seventy souls. But even in this populous city, Wesley, upon his last visit to Scotland, when his venerable age alone might have made him an object of curiosity and reasonable won- der, attracted few hearers. The congregation," he says, "was miserably small, verifying what I had often heard before, that the Scotch dearly love the word of the Lord — on the Lord's day. If I live to come again, I will take care to spend only the Lord's day at Glasgow. " CHAPTER XXIII. METHODISM IN IRELAND. Melancholy and anomalous as the civil history of Ireland is, its religious history is equally mournful, and not less strange. Even at the time w^hen it was called the Island of Saints, and men went forth from its monasteries to be missionaries, not of monachism alone, but of litera- ture and civilization, the mass of the people continued savage, and was something worse than heathen. They accommodated their new religion to their own propen- sities, with a perverted ingenuity, at once humorous and detestable, and altogether peculiar to themselves. Thus, when a child was immersed at baptism, it was customary not to dip the right arm, to the intent that he might strike a more deadly and ungracious blow therewith ; and under an opinion, no doubt, that the rest of the body would not be responsible at the resurrection, for any thing which had been committed by the unbaptized hand. Thus, too, at the baptism, the father took the wolves for his gossips ; and thought that, by this profanation, he was forming an alliance, both for himself and the boy, with the fiercest beasts of the woods. The son of a chief was baptized in milk ; water was not thought good enough, and whisky had not then been invented. They used to rob in the be- ginning of the year, as a point of devotion, for the purpose of laying up a good stock of plunder against Easter ; and he whose spoils enabled him to furnish the best entertain- ment at that time, was looked upon as the best Christian, — so they robbed in emulation of each other ; and recon- ciling their habits to their conscience, with a hardihood beyond that of the boldest casuists, they persuaded them- selves, that if robbery, murder, and rape had been sins, Providence would never put such temptations in their way ; nay, that the sin would be, if they were so ungrateful as not to take advantage of a good opportunity when it was offered them. 126 METHODISM IN IRELAND. These things would appear incredible, if they were not conformable to the spirit of Irish history, fabulous and au- thentic. Yet were the Irish, beyond all other people, passionately attached to the religion wherein they were so miserably ill instructed. Whether they were distinguished by this peculiar attachment to their church, when the su- premacy of the Pope was acknowledged throughout Eu- rope, can not be known, and may, with much probability, be doubted : this is evident, that it must have acquired strength and inveteracy when it became a principle of op- position to their rulers, and was blended with their hatred of the English, who so little understood their duty and their policy as conquerors, that they neither made them- selves loved, nor feared, nor respected. Ireland is the only country in which the Reformation produced nothing but evil.* Protestant Europe has been richly repaid for the long calamities of that great revolu- tion, by the permanent blessings which it left behind ; and even among those nations where the papal superstition maintained its dominion by fire and sword, an important change was effected in the lives and conduct of the Romish clergy. Ireland alone was so circumstanced, as to be in- capable of deriving any advantage, while it was exposed to all the evils of the change. The work of sacrilege and plunder went on there as it did in England and Scotland ; but the language of the people, and their savage state, pre- cluded all possibility of religious improvement. It was not till nearly the middle of the seventeenth century that the Bible was translated into Irish, by means of Bishop Bedell, a man worthy to have Sir Heniy Wotton for his patron, and Father Paolo Sarpi for his friend. The church property had been so scandalously plundered, that few parishest could afford even a bare subsistence to a Prot- estant minister, and therefore few ministers were to be found. Meantime, the Romish clergy were on the alert, and they were powerfully aided by a continued supply of fellow-laborers from the seminaries established in the Spanish dominions ; men who, by their temper and edu- cation, were fitted for any work in which policy might think proper to employ fanaticism. The Franciscans have made it their boast, that at the time of the Irish * [See Appendix, Note XX.— Am. Ed.-\ + The best living in Conuaught was not worth more than forty shil- lings a-year ; and some were as low as sixteen. METHODISM IN IRELAND. 127 massacre there appeared among the rebels more than six hundred Friars Minorite, who had been instigating them to that accursed rebellion while living among them in disguise. Charles II. restored to the Irish church all the impro- priations and portions of tithes which had been vested in the crown ; removing, by this wise and meritorious meas- ure, one cause of its inefficiency. When, in the succeed- ing reign, the civil liberties of England were preserved by the Church of England, the burden of the Revolution again fell upon Ireland. That unhappy country became the seat of war; and from that time the Irish Catholics stood, as a political party, in the same relation to the French, as they bad done during Elizabeth's reign to the Spaniards. The history of Ireland is little else but a his- tory of crimes and of misgovemment. A system of half- persecution was pursued, at once odious for its injustice, and contemptible for its inefficacy. Good principles and generous feelings were thereby provoked into an alliance with superstition and priestcraft ; and the priests, whom the law recognized only for the purpose of punishing them if they discharged the forms of their office, established a more absolute dominion over the minds of the Irish people than was possessed by the clergy in any other part of the world. Half-a-century of peace and comparative tranquillity, during which great advances were made in trade, pro- duced little or no melioration in the religious state of the country. Sectarians of every kind, descript and non- descript, had been introduced in Cromwell's time ; and what proselytes they obtained were won from the estab- lished church, not from the Catholics, whom both the dis- senters and the clergy seem to have considered as incon- vertible. In truth, the higher orders were armed against all conviction, by family pride, and old resentment, and the sense of their wrongs ; while the great body of the native Irish were effectually secured by their language and their ignorance, even if the priests had been less vigilant in their duty, and the Protestants more active in theirs. Bishop Berkeley (one of the best, wisest, and greatest men whom Ireland, with all its fertility of genius, has produced) saw the evil, and perceived what ought to be the remedy. In that admirable little book, the Querist, from which, even at this day, men of all ranks, from the manufacturer to the 128 METPIODISM IN IRELAND. Statesman, may derive instruction, it is asked by this sa- gacious writer, " Whether there be an instance of a people's being converted, in a Christian sense, otherwise than by preaching to them, and instructing them in their own lan- guage ] Whether catechists, in the Irish tongue, may not easily be procured and subsisted ? and w^hether this would not be the most practicable means for converting the na- tives 1 Whether it be not of great advantage to the Church of Rome, that she hath clergy suited to all ranks of men, in gradual subordination, from cardinals down to mendicants ] Whether her numerous poor clergy are not very useful in missions, and of much influence with the people ] Whether, in defect of able missionaries, persons conversant in low life, and speaking the Irish tongue, if well instructed in the first principles of religion, and in the popish contro- versy, — though, for the rest, on a level with the parish clerks, or the schoolmasters of charity-schools, — may not be fit to mix with, and bring over our poor, illiterate na- tives to the Established Church ] Whether it is not to be wished that some parts of our liturgy and homilies were publicly read in the Irish language ] and whether, in these views, it may not be right to breed up some of the better sort of children in the charity-schools, and qualify them for missionaries, catechists, and readers V What Berkeley de- sired to see, Methodism would exactly have supplied, could it have been taken into the service of the Church ; and this might have been done in Ireland, had it not been for the follies and extravagances by which it had rendered itself obnoxious in England at its commencement. Twelve years after the pubHcation of the Querist, John Wesley landed in Dublin, where one of his preachers, by name Williams, had formed a small society. The curate of St. Mary's lent him his pulpit, and his first essay was not very promising ; for he preached from it, he says, to as gay and senseless a congregation as he had ever seen. The clergyman who gave this proof of his good-will dis- approved, however, of his employing lay preachers, and of his preaching anywhere but in a church ; and told him, that the Archbishop of Dublin was resolved to suffer no such irregularities in his diocese. Wesley therefore called on the archbishop, and says, that, in the course of a long conversation, he answered abundance of objections ; some, perhaps, he removed ; and if he did not succeed in per- suading the prelate of the utility of Methodism, he must METHODISM IN IRELAND. 129 certainly have satisfied him that he was not to be prevent- ed from pursuing his own course. Wesley's first impressions of the Irish were very favor- able : a people so generally civil he had never seen, either in Europe or America. Even when he failed to impress them, they listened respectfully. " Mockery," said he, *' is not the custom here : all attend to what is spoken in the name of God. They do not understand the making sport with sacred things ; so that, whether they approve or not, they behave with seriousness." He even thought that, if he or his brother could have remained a few months at Dublin, they might have formed a larger society than in London, the people in general being of a more teachable spirit than in most parts of England ; but, on that very account, he observed, they must be watched over with more care, being equally susceptible of good or ill im- pressions. " What a nation," he says, *' is this ! every man, woman, and child, except a few of the great vulgar, not only patiently, but gladly suffer the work of exhorta- tion !" And he called them an immeasurably loving people. There was, indeed, no cause to complain of in- sensibility in his hearers, as in Scotland. He excited as much curiosity and attention as he could desire ; but if Methodism had been opposed by popular outcry, and by mobs, in England, it was not to be expected that it could proceed without molestation in Ireland. In Wesley's own words, " the roaring lion began to shake himself here also." The Romish priests were the first persons to take the alarm. One of them would sometimes come, when a Methodist was preaching, and drive away his hearers like a flock of sheep. A Catholic mob broke into their room at Dublin, and destroyed every thing : several of the riot- ers were apprehended, but the grand jury threw out the bills against them ; for there were but too many of the Protestants who thought the Methodists fair game. It happened that Cennick, preaching on Christmas-day, took for his text these words, from St. Luke's Gospel : " And this shall be a sign unto you : ye shall find the babe wrap- ped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger." A Catholic who was present, and to whom the language of Scripture was a novelty, thought this so ludicrous, that he called the preacher a Swaddler, in derision; and this unmeaning ,word became the nickname of the Methodists, and had all 130 METHODISM IN IRELAND. the effect of the most opprobrious appellation. At length, when Charles Wesley was at Cork, a mob was raised against him and his followers in that city, under the guid- ance of one Nicholas Butler, who went about the streets dressed in a clergyman's gown and band, with a Bible in one hand, and a bundle of ballads for sale in the other. Strange as it may appear, this blackguard relied upon the approbation and encouragement of the mayor ; and when that magistrate was asked whether he gave Butler leave to beset the houses of the Methodists with a mob, and was re- quired to put a stop to the riots, he replied, that he neither gave him leave nor hindered him : and when, with much importunity, a man, whose house was attacked, prevailed upon him to repair to the spot, and, as he supposed, afford him some protection, the mayor said aloud, in the midst of the rabble, *' It is your own fault, for entertaining these preachers. If you will turn them out of your house, I will engage there shall be no more harm done ; but if you will not turn them out, you must take what you will get." Upon this the mob set up a huzza, and threw stones faster than before. The poor man exclaimed, " This is fine usage under a Protestant government ! If I had a priest saying mass in every room of it, my house would not be touched:" to which the mayor made answer, that "the priests were tolerated, but he was not." These riots continued many days. The mob paraded the streets, armed with swords, staves, and pistols, crying out, *' Five pounds for a Swaddler's head !" Many per- sons, women as well as men, were bruised and wounded, to the imminent danger of their lives. Depositions of these outrages were taken and laid before the grand jury ; but they threw out all the bills, and, instead of affording relief or justice to the injured persons, preferred bills against Charles Wesley and nine of the Methodists, as persons of ill fame, vagabonds, and common disturbers of his majes- ty's peace, praying that they might be transported. Butler was now in high glory, and deslared that he had full liberty to do whatever he would, even to murder, if he pleased. The prejudice against the Methodists must have been very general, as well as strong, before a Protestant magistrate, and a Protestant grand jury, in Ireland, would thus abet a Catholic rabble in their excesses;* especially when the • [The common enmity of the Irish Protestants and Catholics against real Chnstianity was sufficient to overcome their mutual animosities, METHODISM IN IRELAND. 131 Romans, as they called themselves, designated the Method- ists as often by the title of heretic dogs, as by any less com- prehensive appellation. The cause must be found partly in the doctrines of the Methodists, and partly in their con- duct. Their notions of perfection and assurance might well seem fanatical, in the highest degree, if brought for- ward, as they mostly were, by ignorant and ardent men, who were not, like the Wesleys, careful to explain and qualify the rash and indefensible expressions. The watch- nights gave reasonable ground for scandal ; and the zeal of the preachers was not tempered with discretion, or soft- ened by humanity.* One of them asked a young woman whether she had a mind to go to hell with her father; and Mr. Wesley himself, in a letter upon the proceedings at Cork, justified this brutality so far as to declare that, unless he knew the circumstances of the case, he could not say whether it was right or wrong, f just as the Jews and Romans w^ere agreed in the crucifixion of Christ. —Am. Ed.] * [All these apologies for the brutal mobs of Cork, and their abettors, are made to order by the biographer. What did those ignorant savages know or care about the peculiarities of Wesley's doctrine ? Were they all so thoroughly orthodox, and so sensitively^ alive to the proprieties of public worship, that their delicate sensibilities were outraged by Meth- odist doctrines and manners? Or, rather, did Robert Southey love these mobocrais for their work's sake ? and is it not to such apologists that society is indebted for popular tumults ? — Am. Ed.'] t This person, whose name was Jonathan Reeves, only acted upon a principle which had been established at the third Conference. The following part of the minutes upon that subject is characteristic : Q. 1. Can an unbeliever (whatever he be in other respects) chal- lenge any thing of God's justice ? A. Absolutely nothing but hell. And this is a point which we can not too much insist on. Q. 2. Do we empty men of their own righteousness, as we did at first ? Do we sufficiently labor, when they begin to be convinced of sin, to take away all they lean upon ? Should we not then endeavor, with all our might, to overturn their false foundations? A. This was at first one of our principal points ; and it ought to be so still ; for, till all other foundations are overturned, they can not build upon Christ. Q. 3. Did we not then purposely throw them into convictions; into strong sorrow and fear ? Nay, did we not strive to make them incon- solable ; refusing to be comforted ? A. We did; and so we should do still ; for the stronger the convic- tion, the speedier is the deliverance : and none so soon receive the peace of God as those who steadily refuse all other comfort. Q. 4. Let us consider a particular case. Were you, Jonathan Reeves, before you received the peace of God, convinced that, notwithstanding all you did, or could do, you vvere in a state of damnation ? 132 METHODISM IN IRELAND. Several of the persons "whom the grand jury had pre- sented as vagabonds appeared at the next assizes. Butler was the first witness against them. Upon being asked what his calling might be, he replied, " I sing ballads," Upon which the judge lifted up his hands and said, " Here are six gentlemen indicted as vagabonds, and the first ac- cuser is a vagabond by profession !" The next witness, in reply to the same question, replied, " I am an Anti- swaddler, my lord ;" and the examination ended in his be- ing ordered out of court for contempt. The judge deliv- ered such an opinion as became him, upon the encourage- ment which had been given to the rioters. In the ensuing year Wesley himself visited Cork, and preached in a place called Hammond's Marsh, to a numerous but quiet assem- bly. As there was a report that the mayor intended to prevent him from preaching at that place again, Wesley, with more deference to authority than he had shown in England, desired two of his friends to wait upon him and say that, if his preaching there would be offensive, he would give up the intention. The mayor did not receive this concession graciously : he replied, in anger, that there were churches and meetings enough ; he would have no more mobs and riots — no more preaching ; and if Mr. Wesley attempted to preach, he was prepared for him. Some person had said, in reply to one who observed that the Methodists were tolerated by the king, they should find that the mayor was king of Cork ; and Mr. Wesley now found that there was more meaning in this than he had been disposed to allow. When next he began preaching in the Methodist room, the mayor sent the drummers to drum before the door. A great mob was by this means collected ; and, when Wesley came out of the house, they closed him in. He appealed to one of the sergeants to pro- tect him ; but the man replied, lie had no orders to do so ; and the rabble began to pelt him : by pushing on, however, and looking them fairly in the face, with his wonted com- J. R. I was convinced of it, as fully as that I ara now alive. Q. 5. Are you sure that conviction was from God ? J. R. I can have no doubt but that it was. Q. 6. What do you mean by a state of damnation ? J. R. A state wherein if a man dies he perishes forever.* * If for justice we put holiness, what is there in this series of Q. and j?. to which a scriptural Christian can positively object 7 Is it not most true that we must be bottomed in Christ alone ? And if so, must we not be unbottomed of all else.— S. T. C.-2~th Avgust. l^'XL METHODISM IN IRELAND. 133 posure, he made way, and they opened to let him pass. But a cry was set up, " Hey for the Romans !" The con- gregation did not escape so well as the leader : many of them were roughly handled, and covered with mud ; the house was presently gutted, the floors were torn up, and, with the window-frames and doors, carried into the street and burned ; and the next day the mob made a grand pro- cession, and burned Mr. Wesley in effigy. The house was a second time attacked, and the boards demolished which had been nailed against the windows ; and a fellow posted up a notice at the public exchange, with his name affixed, that he was ready to head any mob, in order to pull down any house that should harbor a Swaddler. The press also was employed against the Methodists, but with little judgment, and less honesty. One writer ac- cused Mr. Wesley of '* robbing and plundering the poor, so as to leave them neither bread to eat, nor raiment to put on." He replied, victoriously, to this accusation : ** A heavy charge," said he, " but without all color of truth ; yea, just the reverse is true. Abundance of those in Cork, Bandon, Limerick, and Dublin, as well as in all parts of England, who, a few years ago, either through sloth or profaneness, had not bread to eat, or raiment to put on, have now, by means of the preachers called Methodists, a sufficiency of both. Since, by hearing these, they have learned to fear God, they have learned also to work with their hands, as well as to cut off every needless expense, and to be good stewards of the mammon of unrighteousness." He aver- red, also, that the effect of his preaching had reconciled disaffected persons to the government ; and that they who became Methodists were, at the same time, made loyal sub- jects.* He reminded his antagonists that, when one of the English bishops had been asked what could be done to stop these new preachers, the prelate had replied, " If they preach contrary to Scripture, confute them by Scripture ; if contrary to reason, confute them by reason. But beware you use no other weapons than these, either in opposing error or defending the truth." He complained that, instead of fair and honorable argument, he had been assailed at Cork with gross falsehoods, mean abuse, and base scurrility. He challenged any of his antagonists, or any who would come forward to meet him on even ground, writing as a * [See Appendix, Note XXL— ^w. Ed.} 134 METHODISM IN IRELAND. gentleman to a gentleman, a scholar to a scholar, a clergy- man to a clergyman. " Let them," said he, "thus show me wherein I have preached or written amiss, and I will stand reproved before all the world ; but let them not con- tinue to put persecution in the place of reason : either ^rz- vate persecution, stirring up husbands to threaten or beat their wives, parents their children, masters their servants ; gentlemen to ruin their tenants, laborers, or tradesmen, by turning them out of their favor or cottages ; employing or buying of them no more, because they worship God ac- cording to their own conscience: or open, bare faced, noon- day, Cork persecution, breaking open the houses of his maj- esty's Protestant subjects, destroying their goods, spoiling or tearing the very clothes from their backs ; striking, bruis- ing, wounding, murdering them in the streets ; dragging them through the miie, without any regard to age or sex, not sparing even those of tender years ; no, nor women, though great with child ; but, with more than Pagan or Mohammedan barbarity, destroying infantsthat were yet unborn." He insisted, truly, that this was a common cause ; for, if the Methodists were not protected, what protection would any men have ] what security for their goods or lives, if a mob were to be both judge, jury, and execution- er"? "I fear God, and honor the king," said he. " I earn- estly desire to be at peace with all men. I have not, will- ingly, given any offense, either to the magistrates, the clergy, or any of the inhabitants of the city of Cork ; neither do I desire any thing of them, but to be treated (I will not say as a clergyman, a gentleman, or a Christian) with such justice and humanity as are due to a Jew, a Turk, or a Pagan." Whitefield visited Ireland, for the first time, in the en- suing year, and found himself the safer for the late trans- actions. Such outrages had compelled the higher powers to interfere ; and when he arrived at Cork, the populace was in a state of due subordination. He seems to have re- garded the conduct of Wesley and his lay preachers with no favorable eye : some dreadful offenses, he said, had been given ; and he condemned all politics, as below the chil- dren of God ; alluding, apparently, to the decided manner in which Wesley always inculcated obedience to govern- ment as one of the duties of a Christian ; making it his boast, that whoever became a Methodist, became at the same time a good subject. Though his, success was not so METHODISM IN IRELAND. 135 brilliant as in Scotland, it was still sufficient to encourage and cheer him. " Providence," says he, " has wonderfully prepared my way, and overruled every thing for my great- er acceptance. Everywhere there seems to be a stirring among the dry bones ; and the trembling lamps of God's people have been supplied with fresh oil. The word ran, and was glorified." Hundreds prayed for him when he left Cork ; and many of the Catholics said that, if he would stay, they would leave their priests ; but on a second ex- pedition to Ireland, Whitefield narrowly escaped with his life. He had been well received, and had preached once or twice, on week days, in Oxminton Green ; a place which he describes as the Moorfields of Dublin. The Ormond Boys and the Liberty Boys (these were the current de- nominations of the mob-factions at that time) generally as- sembled there every Sunday — to fight ; and Whitefield, mindful, no doubt, of his success in a former enterprise under like circumstances, determined to take the field on that day, relying on the interference of the officers and sol- diers, whose barracks were close by, if he should stand in need of protection. The singing, praying, and preaching went on without much interruption ; only, now and then, a few stones, and a few clods of dirt, were thrown. After the sermon, he prayed for success to the Prussian arms, it being in time of war. Whether this prayer offended the party-spirit of his hearers, — or whether the mere fact of his being a heretic, who went about seeking to make prose- lytes, had excited in the Catholic part of the mob a deter- mined spirit of vengeance, — or whether, without any prin- ciple of hatred or personal dislike, they considered him as a bear, bull, or badger, whom they had an opportunity of tormenting, — the barracks, through which he intended to return, as he had come, were closed against him ; and when he endeavored to make his way across the green, the rab- ble assailed him. " Many attacks," says he, " have I had from Satan's children, but now you would have thought he had been permitted to have given me an effectual parting blow." Volleys of stones came from all quarters, while he reeled to and fro under the blows, till he was almost breathless, and covered with blood. A strong beaver hat, which served him for a while as a skull-cap, was knocked off at last, and he then received many blows and wounds on the head, and one large one near the temple. '* I thought of Stephen," says he, and was in great hopes that, like 136 METHODISM IN IRELAND. him, I should be dispatched, and go off, in this bloody tn- umph, to the immediate presence of my Master." The door of a minister's house was opened for him in time, and he staggered in, and was sheltered there, till a coach could be brought, and he was conveyed safely away. The bitter spirit of the more ignorant Catholics was often exemplified. The itinerants were frequently told, that it would be doing both God and the Church service to burn all such as them in one fire ; and one of them, when he first went into the county of Kerry, was received with the threat that they would kill him, and m.ake whistles of his bones. Another was nearly murdered by a ferocious mob, one of whom set his foot upon his face, swearing that he would tread the Holy Ghost out of him. At Kilkenny, where the Catholics were not strong enough to make a riot with much hope of success, they gnashed at Wesley with their teeth, after he had been preaching in an old bowling-green, near the Castle; and one of them cried, *' Och ! what is Kilkenny come to !" But it was from among the Irish Catholics that Wesley obtained one of the most interesting of his coadjutors, and one of the most effi- cient also during his short life. Thomas Walsh, whom the Methodists justly reckon among their most distinguished members, was the son of a carpenter at Bally Lynn, in the county of Limerick. His parents were strong Romanists : they taught him the Lord's Prayer and the Ave Maria in Irish, which was his mother tongue, and the hundred-and-thirtieth Psalm in Latin ; and he was taught also, that all who differ from the Church of Rome are in a state of damnation. At eight years old he went to school to learn English ; and was afterward placed with one of his bi'others, who was a schoolmaster, to learn Latin and mathematics. At nineteen he opened a school for himself The brother, by whom he was instructed, had been intended for the priesthood : he was a man of tolera- ble learning, and of an inquiring mind, and seeing the errors of the Romish church, he renounced it. This occa- sioned frequent disputes with Thomas Walsh, who was a strict Catholic ; the one alledging the traditions and canons of the Church, the other appealing to the law and to the testimony. " My brother, why do you not read God's word?" the elder would say. "Lay aside prejudice, and let us reason together." After many struggles between the misgivings of his mind, and the attachment to the opin- TH0MA3 WALSH. 137 ions in vvliich he had been bred up, and the thought of his parents, and shame, and the fear of man, this state of sus- pense became intolerable, and he prayed to God in his trouble. " All things are known to Thee," he said in his prayer ; *• and Thou seest that I want to worship Thee aright ! Show me the way wherein I ought to go, nor suf- fer me to be deceived by men !" He then went to his brother, determined either to con- vince him, or to be convinced. Some other persons of the Protestant persuasion were present : they brought a Bible, and with it Nelson's " Festivals and Fasts of the Church of England;" and, with these books before them, they dis- cussed the subject till midnight. It ended in his fair and complete conversion. "I was constrained," said he, "to give place to the light of truth : it was so convincing, that I had nothing more to say. I was judged of all ; and at length confessed the weakness of my former reasonings, and the strength of those which were opposed to me. About one o'clock in the morning I retired to my lodging, and according to my usual custom, went to prayer ; but now only to the God of heaven. I no longer prayed to any angel or spirit ; for I was deeply persuaded, that ' there is but one God, and one Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus.' Therefore, I resolved no longer to suffer any man to beguile me into a voluntary humility, in worshiping either saints or angels. These latter I considered as ' ministering spirits, sent to minister to them who shall be heirs of salvation.' But with regard to any worship being paid them, one of themselves said, * See thou do it not ; worship God, God only.' All my sophisms on this head were entirely overthrown by a few hours' candid reading the Holy Scriptures, which were be- come as a lantern to my feet, and a lamp to my paths, di- recting me in the way wherein I should go." Soon after- ward he publicly abjured the errors of the Church of Rome.* * His disposition would have made him a saint in that church, but his principles were truly catholic, in the proper sense of that abused word. " I bear them witness," says he, speaking of the Romanists, " that they have a zeal for God, though not according unto knowledge. Many of them love justice, mercy, and truth ; and may, notwithstand- ing many errors in sentiment, and therefore in practice (since, as is God's majesty, so is his mercy), be dealt with accordingly. There have been, doubtless, and still are, among them, some burning and shining lights; persons who (whatever their particular sentiments may 138 METHODISM IN IRELAND. This had been a sore struggle : a more painful part of his progress was yet to come. He read the Scriptures diligently, and the works of some of the most eminent Protestant divines : his conviction was confirmed by this course of study ; and, from perceiving clearly the fallacious nature and evil consequences of the doctrine of merits, as held by the Romanists, a dismal view of human nature opened upon him. His soul was not at rest : it was no longer harassed by doubts ; but the peace of God was want- ing. In this state of mind, he happened one evening to be passing along the main street in Limerick, when he saw a be) are devoted to the service of Jesus Christ, according as their light and opportunities admit. And, in reality, whatever opinions people may hold, they are most approved of God, whose temper and behavior correspond with the model of his holy word. This, however, can be no justification of general and public unsciiptural tenets, such as are many of those of the Church of Rome. It may be asked, then, why did I leave their communion, since I thought so favorably of them? I answer. Because I was abundantly convinced that, as a church, they have erred from the right way, and adulterated the truths of God with the inventions and traditions of men ; which the Scriptures, and even celebrated writers of themselves, abundantly testify. God is my wit- ness, that the sole motive which induced me to leave them, was an un- feigned desire to know the way of God more perfectly, in order to the salvation of my soul. For although I then felt, and do yet feel, my heart to be, as the prophet speaks, deceitful and desperately wicked, with regard to God ; yet I was sincere in my reformation, having from the Holy Spirit an earnest desire to save my soul. If it should still be asked, But could I not be saved ? I answer. If I had never known the truth of the Scriptures concerning the way of salvation, nor been con- vinced that their principles were anti-scriptural, then I might possibly have been saved in her communion, the merciful God making allow- ance for my invincible ignorance. But I freely profess, that now, since God hath enlightened my mind, and given me to see the tnith, as it is in Jesus, if I had still continued a member of the Church of Rome, I could not have been saved. With regard to others, 1 say nothing: I know that every man must bear his own burden, and give an account of himself to God. To our own Master, both they or I must stand or fall, forever. But love, however, and tender compassion for their souls, constrained me to pour out a prayer to God in their behalf : — All souls are thine, O Lord God ; and Thou wiliest all to come to the knowledge of the truth, and be saved. For this end Thou didst give thy only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him might not perish, but have everlasting life. I beseech thee, O eternal God, show thy tender mercies upon these poor souls who have been long deluded by the god of this world, the Pope, and his clergy. Jesus, thou lover of souls, and friend of sinners, send to them thy light and thy truth, that they may lead them. Oh, let thy bowels yearn over them, and call those straying sheep, now perishing for the lack of knowledge, to the light of thy word, which is able to make them wise unto salvation, through faith which is in Thee." THOMAS WALSH. 139 great crowd on the Parade, and turning aside to know for what they were assembled, found that Robert Swindells, one of the first itinerants in Ireland, was then delivering a sermon in the open air. The preacher was earnestly en- forcing the words of our Redeemer — words which are worth more than all the volumes of philosophy : *' Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest ! Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me ; for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls ! For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Walsh was precisely in that state which rendered him a fit recipient for the doctrines which he now first heard. He caught the fever of Methodism, and it went through its regular course with all the accustomed symp- toms. Some weeks he remained in a miserable condition : he could find no rest, either by night or day. " When I prayed," says he, ** I was troubled ; when I heard a ser- mon, I was pierced as with darts and arrows." He could neither sleep nor eat : his body gave way under this men- tal suffering, and at length he took to his bed. After a while the reaction began : fear and wretchedness gradually gave place to the love of God, and the strong desire for salvation : and the crisis was brought on at a meeting, where, he says, " the power of the Lord came down in the midst of them ; the windows of heaven were opened, and the skies poured down righteousness, and his heart melted like wax before the fire."* To the psychologist it may be interesting to know by what words this state of mind was * Alas! What more or worse could a young infidel spitaller, fresh from the lectures of some facetious infidel anatomist or physiologist, have wished, than to have the sense of the utter vUeness and helpless- ness of man left to himself, gradually followed by the conviction of an Almighty Helper — than to have " the love of God and the strong DESIRE FOR SALVATION" represented as so many regular symptoms and crises of a bodily disease ? Oh ! I am almost inclined to send this my copy of his work to R. Southey, with the notes, for my heart bears him witness that he offendeth not willingly. P.S. (three years at least later than the above.) — And I, who had for- gotten, and was unconscious that I had written the preceding note, had, but a few days ago, and but a few pages back, written one to the very purpose, and in the very same spirit, which I had condemned in Southey. " Judge not, lest ye be judged." But as to the point itself, verily I know not what to say more than this, — that if I decide in favor of the opinion that these experiences have their proper seat and origin in the nervous system, and are to be solved pathologically, it is not for want of a strong inclination to believe the contrary. But the descrip- tions, even of such men as Haliburton and Walsh, are so vague, so en- 140 METHODISM IN IRELAND. induced. It was by the exclamation of the prophet, " Who is this that cometh from Edora, with dyed garments from Bozrah ; this that is glorious in his apparel, traveling in the greatness of his strength V a passage which, with that that follows, is in the highest strain of lyric sublimity : it might seem little likely to convey comfort to a spirit which had long been inconsolable ; but its effect was like that of a spark of fire upon materials which are ready to burst into combustion. He cried aloud in the congregation ; and, when the throe was past, declared that he had now found rest, and was filled with joy and peace in believ- ing. *' And now," says he, " I felt of a truth, that faith is the substance, or subsistence, of things hoped for, and the evi- dence of things not seen. God, and the things of the in- visible world, of which I had only heard before, by the hearing of the ear, appeared now in their true light, as substantial realities. Faith gave me to see a reconciled God, and an all-sufficient Savior. The kingdom of God was within me. I drew water out of the wells of salva- tion. I walked and talked with God all the day long : what- soever I believed to be his will, I did with my whole heart. I could unfeignedly love them that hated me, and pray for them that despitefully used and persecuted me. The com- mandments of God were my delight : I not only rejoiced evermore, but prayed without ceasing, and in every thing tirely sensational ! — ^nothing in the mind that was not there before ; only a glow, a vividness over all, as in dreams after I have taken a dose of calomel, or as I have described the fishermen with their nets on the ice, in the blaze of a winter sunset on the lake of Eatzeburg. Com- bine the state of mind and body that follows the sudden removal of violent pain, with the freshness and delicious tenderness of convales- cence, and add to these the elevation of religious hopes and calls to duties awful as the immortal soul — and nothing, it seems tome, remains unsolved but the sudden outcry, the birth-throe. Nothing ? But is not this (Zinzendorf might reply) only not all? However essentially in- sensible the prevenient and coincident operation of the Divine Spirit on the will, yet the will can not be denied to exert an action on the body ; which action is itself indeed likewise insensible (inasmuch as the will too is spiritual) ; but the consequent of which, viz., the act or reaction of the body, must be sensible. Be it so ! Yet in what would this differ (except in the manner of expression) from the former hypoth- esis, that the experience in question consists of a nervous explosion oc- casioned by mental efforts ? If Southey were by, he would perhaps inform rne, up to what age he had been able to trace the Moravian notion of a Durchbruch, Diarrhexis, or thorough-break of the new life! — whether any thing like it is to be found in the Fathers, or in Epipha- nias's account of the heretical sects ! — S. T. C. THOMAS WAl.^lI. 141 gave thanks : whether I ate or di auk, or whatever I did, it was in the name of the Lord Jesus, and to the glory of God." This case is the more remarkable, because the subject was of a calm and thoughtful mind, a steady and well regulated temper, and a melancholy temperament. He had now to undergo more obloquy and ill-will than had been brought upon him by his renunciation of the errors of the Romish church. That change, his relations thought, was bad enough ; but, to become a Methodist, was worse, and they gave him up as undone forever : and not his re- lations only, nor the Romanists. ** Acquaintances and neighbors," says he, " rich and poor, old and young, clergy and laity, were all against me. Some said I was a hypocrite ; others that I was mad ; others, judging more favorably, that I was deceived. Reformed and unreformed I found to be just alike ; and that many who spoke against the Pope and the Inquisition were themselves, in reality, of the same disposition." Convinced that it was his duty now to become a minis- ter of that Gospel which he had received, he offered his services to Mr. Wesley, as one who believed, and that not hastily or lightly, but after ardent aspirations, and con- tinued prayer and study of the Scriptures, that he was in- wardly moved by the Holy Spirit to take upon himself that office. He had prepared himself by diligent study of the Scriptures, which he read often upon his knees : and the prayer which he was accustomed to use at such times, may excite the admiration of those even in whom it shall fail to find sympathy : Lord Jesus, I lay my soul at thy feet, to be taught and governed by Thee. Take the veil from the mystery, and show me the truth as it is in Thy- self. Be Thou my sun and star, by day and by night !" Wesley told him it was hard to judge what God had called him to, till trial had been made. He encouraged him to make the trial, and desired him to preach in Irish. The command of that language gave him a great advan- tage. It was long ago said in Ireland, ** When you plead for your life, plead in Irish." Even the poor Catholics lis- tened willingly, when they were addressed in their mother tongue : his hearers frequently shed silent tears, and fre- quently sobbed aloud, and cried for mercy ; and in country towns the peasantry, who, going there upon market-day, had stopped to hear the preacher, from mere wonder and curiosity, were oftentimes melted into tears, and declared 142 METHODISM IN IRELAND. that they could follow him all over the world. One, who had laid aside some money, which he intended to bequeath, for the good of his soul, to some priest or friar, offered to bequeath it to him, if he would accept it. In conversation, too, and upon all the occasions which occurred in daily life — at inns, and upon the highway, and in the streets — this remarkable man omitted no opportunity of giving re- ligious exhortation to those who needed it ; taking care, always, not to shock the prejudices of those whom he ad- dressed, and to adapt his speech to their capacity. Points of dispute, whether they regarded the difference of churches, or of doctrines, he wisely avoided : sin, and death, and judgment, and redemption, were his themes ; and upon these themes he enforced so powerfully, at such times, that the beggars, to whom he frequently addressed himself in the streets, would fall on their knees, and beat their breasts, weeping, and crying for mercy. Many calumnies were invented to counteract the effect which this zealous laborer produced wherever he went. It was spread abroad that he had been a servant boy to a Romish priest ; and having stolen his master's books, he learned by that means to preach. But it was not from the Catholics alone that he met with opposition. He was once waylaid near the town of Rosgrea, by about four score men, armed with sticks, and bound by oath in a con- federacy against him : they were so liberal a mob, that, provided they could reclaim him from Methodism, they appeared not to care what they made of him ; and they insisted upon bringing a Romish priest, and a minister of the Church of England, to talk with him. Walsh, with great calmness, explained to them, that he contended with no man concerning opinions, nor preached against par- ticular churches, but against sin and wickedness in all. And he so far succeeded in mitigating their disposition toward him, that they offered to let him go, provided he would swear never again to come to Rosgrea. Walsh would rather have suffered martyrdom than have submit- ted to such an oath ; and martyrdom was the alternative which they proposed ; for they carried him into the town, where the whole rabble surrounded him ; and it was de- termined that he should either swear, or be put into a well. The courage with which he refused to bind himself by any oath or promise, made him friends even among so strange an assembly : some cried out vehemently that he should TH0MA3 WALSH. 143 go into the well ; others took his part : in the midst of the uproar, the parish minister came up, and, by his inter- ference, Walsh was permitted to depart. At another country town, about twenty miles from Cork, the magis- trate, who was the rector of the place, declared he would commit him to prison, if he did not promise to preach no more in those parts. Walsh replied, by asking if there were no swearers, drunkards. Sabbath-breakers, and the like, in those parts ; adding that, if, after he should have preached there a few times, there appeared no reforma- tion among them, he would never come there again. Not satisfied with such a proposal, the magistrate committed him to prison : but Walsh was popular in that town ; the people manifested a great interest in his behalf ; he preached to them from the prison-window, and it was soon thought advisable to release him. He was more cruelly handled by the Presbyterians in the north of Ire- land : the usage which he received from a mob of that persuasion, and the exertions which he made to escape from them, threw him into a fever, which confined him for some time to his bed : and he professed that, in all his journeyings, and in his intercourse among people of many or most denominations, he had met with no such treatment ; no, not even from the most enraged of the Romanists them- selves. The life of Thomas Walsh might almost convince a Catholic that saints are to be found in other communions, as well as in the Church of Rome. Theopathy was, in him, not merely the ruling, it was the only passion : his intellect was of no common order ; but this passion, in its excess, acted like a disease upon a mind that was by con- stitution melancholy. To whatever church he had be- longed, the elements of his character would have been the same : the only difference would have been in its mani- festation. As a Romanist, he might have retired to a cell or a hermitage, contented with securing his own salvation, by perpetual austerity and prayer, and a course of con- tinual self-tormenting. But he could not have been more dead to the world, nor more entirely possessed by a de- votional spirit. His friends described him as appearing like one who had returned from the other world : and per- haps it was this unearthly manner which induced a Romish priest to assure his flock that the Walsh who had turned heretic, and went about preaching, was dead long since ; 144 METHODISM IN IRELAND. and that be who preached under that name, was the Devil, in his shape. It is said that he walked through the streets of London with as little attention to all things around him, as if he had been in a wilderness, unobservant of whatever would have attracted the sight of others, and as indifferent to all sounds of excitement, uproar, and exultation, as to the passing wind. He showed the same insensibility to the influence of fine scenery and sunshine : the only natu- ral object of which he spoke with feeling was the starry firmament, — for there he beheld infinity. With all this, the zeal of this extraordinary man was such, that, as he truly said of himself, the sword was too sharp for the scabbard. At five-and-twenty he might have Deen taken for forty years of age ; and he literally wore nimself out before he attained the age of thirty, by the most unremitting and unmerciful labor, both of body and mind. His sermons were seldom less than an hour long, and they were loud as well as long. Mr. Wesley always warned his preachers against both these errors, and con- sidered Walsh as in some degree guilty of his own death, by the excessive exertion which he made at such times, notwithstanding frequent advice, and frequent resolutions, to restrain the vehemence of his spirit. He was not less intemperate in study. Wesley acknowledged him to be the best biblical scholar whom he had ever known : if he were questioned concerning any Hebrew word in the Old, or any Greek one in the New Testament, he would tell, after a pause, how often it occurred in the Bible, and what it meant in every place. Hebrew was his favorite study : he regarded it as a language of divine origin, and there- fore perfect: "O truly laudable and worthy study!" he exclaims concerning it : " O industry above all praise ! whereby a man is enabled to converse with God, with noly angels, with patriarchs, and with prophets, and clearly to unfold to men the mind of God from the language of God !" And he was persuaded that he had not attained the full and familiar knowledge of it, which he believed that he possessed, without special assistance from Heaven. At this study he frequently sat up late ; and his general time of rising was at four. When he was entreated to allow himself more sleep, by one who saw that he was wasting away to death, his reply was, " Should a man rob Godl" The friends of Walsh related things of him which would THOMAS WALSH. 145 have been good evidence in a suit for canonization. Some- times he was lost, they say, in glorious absence, on his knees, with his face heavenward, and arms clasped round his breast, in such composure, that scarcely could he be perceived to breathe. His soul seemed absorbed in God ; and from the serenity, and " something resembling splen- dor, which appeared on his countenance, and in all his gestures afterward, it might easily be discovered what he had been about." Even in sleep, the devotional habit still predominated, and " his soul went out in groans, and sighs, and tears to God." They bear witness to his rapts and ecstasies, and record circumstances which they themselves believed to be proofs of his communion with the invisible world. With all this intense devotion, the melancholy of his disposition always predominated : and though he held the doctrines of sanctifi cation and assurance, and doubted not but that his pardon was sealed by the blood of the covenant, no man was ever more distressed in mind, nor labored under a greater dread of death. Even when he was enforcing the vital truths of religion, with the whole force of his intellect, and with all his heart, and soul, and strength, thoughts would come across him which he con- sidered as diabolical suggestions ; and he speaks with hor- ror of the agony which he endured in resisting them. In- deed he was thoroughly persuaded that he was an especial object of hatred to the devil. This persuasion supplied a ready solution for the nervous affections to which he was subject, and, in all likelihood, frequently produced those abhorred thoughts, which were to him a confirmation of that miserable belief. Romish superstition affords a remedy for this disease; for, if relics and images fail to avert the fit, the cilice and the scourge amuse the patient with the belief that he is adding to his stock of merits, and distress of mind is commuted for the more tolerable sense of bodily pain. For many years Mr. Wesley kept up an interchange of preachers between England and Ireland ; and when Walsh was in London, he preached in Irish at a place called Short's Garden, and in Moorfields. Many of his poor countrymen were attracted by the desire of hearing their native tongue ; and as others also gathered round, wonder- ing at the novelty, he addressed them afterward in English. But, on such occasions, mere sound and sympathy will sometimes do the work, without the aid of intelligible VOL, 11. — G 146 METHODISM IN IRELAND. words.* It is related in Walsh's Life, that once, in Dub- lin, when he was preaching in Irish, among those who were affected by the discourse, there was one man " cut to the heart," though he did not understand the language. Whatever language he used, he was a powerful preacher; and contributed more than any other man to the diffusion of Methodism in Ireland. All circumstances were as fa- vorable for the progress of Methodism in that country, as they were adverse to it in Scotland : the inefficiency of the Established Church ; the total want, not of discipline alone, but of order ; and the ardor of the Irish character, of all people the most quick and lively in their affections. And as his opposition to the Calvinistic notions made Wes- ley unpopular among the Scotch, in Ireland he obtained a certain degree of favor for his decided opposition to the Romish church ; while he was too wise a man ever to provoke hostility, by introducing any disputatious matter in his sermons. After a few years he speaks of himself as having, he knew not how, become an honorable man there : *' The scandal of the cross," says he, " is ceased, and all the kingdom, rich and poor. Papists and Protestants, be- have with courtesy, nay, and seeming good-will." Per- haps he was hardly sensible how much of this was owing to the change which had imperceptibly been wrought in his own conduct, by the sobering influence of time. The ferment of his spirit had abated, and his language had become far less indiscreet ; nor indeed had he ever, in Ireland, provoked the indignation of good men, by the extravagances which gave such just offense in England at ♦ The most extraordinary convert that ever was made, was a certain William Heazley, in the county of Antrim, a man who was deaf and dumb from his birth. By mere imitation, and the desire of being like his neighbors, he was converted, in the 25th year of his age, from a profligate life ; for his delight had been in drinking, cock-fighting, and other brutal amusements. On the days when the leader of the Society was expected, he used to watch for him, and run from house to house to assemble the people ; and he would appear exceedingly mortified if the leader did not address him as he did the others. This man followed the occupation of weaving linen, and occasionally shaving, which was chiefly a Sunday's work ; but after his conversion he never would shave any person on the Sabbath. [Rather unusual effects these, to be produced by " the desire of being like his neighbors!" Who ever heard of any other instance of the thorough reformation of a profligate Sabbath-breaker " by mere imita- tion?" That philosophy ia wholly defective, that assigns effects to causes manifestly inadequate. — Am. Ed.} METHODISM IN IRELAND. 147 the beginning of his career. Some of the higher clergy, therefore, approved and coutitenanced his labors ; and it would not have been difficult, in that country, to have made the Methodists as subservient to the interests of the Established Church, as the Regulars are to the Church of Rome. Among so susceptible a people, it might be expected that curious effects would frequently be produced by the application of so strong a stimulant. A lady wrote from Dublin to Mr. "Wesley in the following remarkable words : " Reverend sir, The most miserable and guilty of all the human race, who knew you when she thought herself one of the happiest, may be ashamed to write, or speak to you, in her present condition ; but the desperate misery of my state makes me attempt any thing that may be a means of removing it. My request is, that you, dear sir, and such of your happy people who meet in band, and ever heard the name of that miserable wretch P. T., would join in fcisting and prayer on a Tuesday, the day on which I was born, that the Lord would have mercy on me, and deliver me from the power of the devil, from the most uncommon blasphemies, and the expectation of hell, which I labor under, without power to pray, or hope for mercy. May be the Lord may change my state, and have mercy on me, for the sake of his people's prayer. Indeed I can not pray for myself ; and, if I could, I have no hopes of being heard. Nevertheless, He, seeing his people afflicted for me, may, on that account, deliver me from the power of the devil. Oh, what a hell have I upon earth ! I would not charge God foolishly, for he has been very merciful to me ; but I brought all this evil on myself by sin, and by not making a right use of his mercy. Pray continually for me ; for the prayer of faith will shut and open heaven. It may be a means of my deliverance, which will be one of the greatest miracles of mercy ever known." If Mr. Wesley received this letter in time, it can not be doubted but that he would have complied with the request. The unhappy writer was in Swift's Hospital ; and, per- haps, in consequence of not receiving an answer to her letter, she got her mother to address a similar one to the preacher at Cork, and he appointed two Tuesdays to be observed as she had requested, both in that city and at Limerick. There may be ground for reasonable suspicion that Methodism had caused the disease. The Cork preacher 148 METHODiaM IN IRELAND. was apprised, by a brother at Dublin, of the manner in which it operated the cure : " I have to inforai you of the mercy of God to Miss T, She was brought from Swift's Hospital on Sunday evening ; and on Tuesday night, about ten o'clock, she was in the utmost distress. She thought she saw Christ and Satan fighting for her; and that she heard Christ say, ' I will have her!' In a moment, hope sprung up in her heart ; the promises of God flowed in upon her : she cried out, I am taken from hell to heaven ! She now declares she could not tell whether she was in the body or out of it. She is much tempted, but in her right mind, enjoying a sense of the mercy of God. She remembers all that is past, and knows it was a punishment for her sins." As nearly twenty years elapsed before Wesley published these letters, it may be inferred that the cure was permanent. " Are there any drunkards here V* said a preacher one day in his sermon, applying his discourse in that manner which the Methodists have found so effectual. A poor Irishman looked up, and replied, "Yes, I am one!" And the impression which he then received, enabled him to throw off his evil habits, and become, from that day for- ward, a reclaimed man. The Methodists at Wexford met in a long barn, and used to fasten the door, because they were annoyed by a Catholic mob. Being thus excluded from the meeting, the mob became curious to know what was done there : and taking counsel together, they agreed that a fellow should get in and secrete himself before the congregation assembled, so that he might see all that was going on, and, at a proper time, let in his companions. The adventurer could find no better means of concealment than by getting into a sack which he found there, and lying down in a situation near the entrance. The people collected, secured the door as usual, and, as usual, began their service by singing. The mob collected also, and, growing impatient, called repeatedly upon their friend Patrick to open the door ; but Pat happened to have a taste for music, and he liked the singing so well, that he thought, as he afterward said, it would be a thousand pities to dis- turb it. And when the hymn was done, and the itinerant began to pray, in spite of all the vociferation of his com- rades, he thought that, as he had been so well pleased with the singing, he would see how he liked the prayer ; but, when the prayer proceeded, " the power of God," METHODISM IN IRELAND. 149 says the relater, " did so confound him, that he roared out with might and main ; and not having power to get out of the sack, lay bawling and screaming, to the astonishment and dismay of the congregation, who probably supposed that Satan himself was in the barn. Somebody, at last, ventured to see what was in the sack; and helping him out, brought him up, confessing his sins, and crying for mercy." This is the most comical case of instantaneous conversion that ever was recorded, and yet the man is said to have been thoroughly converted. A memorable instance of the good effects produced by Methodism was shown, in a case of shipwreck upon the isle of Cale, off the coast of the county of Down. There were several Methodist societies in that neighborhood, and some of the members went wrecking with the rest of the people, and others bought, or received presents of the plundered goods. As soon as John Prickard, who was at that time traveling in the Lisburn circuit, heard of this, he hastened to inquire into it, and found that all the societies, except one, had, more or less, *' been partakers of the ac- cursed thing." Upon this he preached repentance and restitution ; and, with an almost broken heart, read out sixty-three members on the following Sunday, in Down- patrick ; giving notice that those who would make restitu- tion should be restored, at a proper time ; but that for those who would not, their names' should be recorded in the gen- eral steward's book, with an account of their crime and ob- stinacy. This severity produced much of its desired effect, and removed the reproach which would otherwise have attached to the Methodists. Some persons who did not be- long to the society, but had merely attended as hearers, were so much affected by the exhortation and the exam- ple, that they desired to make restitution with them. The owners of the vessel empowered Prickard to allow salvage ; but, with a proper degree of austerity, he refused to do this, because the people, in the first instance, had been guilty of a crime. This affair deservedly raised the character of the Methodists in those parts ; and it was observed, by the gentry in the neighborhood, that, if the ministers of every other persuasion had acted as John Prickard did, most of the goods might have been saved. " Although I had many an aching head and pained breast," says one of the itinerants, speaking of his cam- paigns in Ireland, " yet it was delightful to see hundreds 150 METHODISM IN IRELAND. attending to my blundering preaching, with streaming eyes, and attention still as night." The damp, dirty, smoky cabins* of Ulster," says another, " were a good trial ; but what makes a double amends for all these inconveniences, to any preacher who loves the word of God, is, that our people here are, in general, the most zealous, lively, affec- tionate Christians we have in the kingdom." Wesley him- self, while he shuddered at the ferocious character of Irish history, loved the people; and said he had seen as real courtesy in their cabins as could be found at St. James's, or the Louvre. He found them more liberal than the En- * There is a letter of advice from Mr. Wesley to one of his Insh preachers (written in 1769), which gives a curious picture of the peo- ple for whom such advice could be needful : — " Dear brother," he says, " I shall now tell you the things which have been more or less upon my mind ever since I was in the north of Ireland. If you forget them, you will be a sufferer, and so will the people ; if you observ e them, it will be good for both. Be steadily serious. There is no country upon earth where this is more necessary than Ireland, as you are generally encompassed with those who, with a little encouragement, would laugh or trifle from morning till night. In every town visit all you can, from house to house ; but, on this and every other occasion, avoid all familiar- ity with women : this is deadly poison, both to them and to you. You cannot be too wary in this respect. Be active, be diligent; avoid all laziness, sloth, indolence ; fly from every degree, every appearance of it, else you will never be more than half a Christian. Be cleanly : in this let the Methodists take pattern by the Quakers. Avoid all nasti- ness, dirt, slovenliness, both in your person, clothes, house, and all about you. Do not stink above ground ! ' Let thy mind's sweetness have its operation Upon thy person, clothes, and habitation.' — Herbert. Whatever clothes you have, let them be whole : no rents, no tatters, no rags ; these are a scandal to either man or woman, being another fruit of vile laziness. Mend your clothes, or I shall never expect to see you mend your lives. Let none ever see a ragged Methodist. Clean your- selves of lice : take pains in this. Do not cut off your hair ; but clean it, and keep it clean. Cure yourself and your family of the itch : a spoonful of brimstone will cure you. To let this run from year to year, proves both sloth and uncleanness : away with it at once ; let not the North be any longer a proverb of reproach to all the nation. Use no snuff, unless prescribed by a physician. I suppose no other nation in Europe is in such vile bondage to this silly, nasty, dirty custom, as the Irish are. Touch no dram: it is liquid fire; it is a sure, though slow, poison; it saps the very springs of life. In Ireland, above all countries in the world, I would sacredly abstain from this, because the e\'il is so general ; and to this, and snuff, and smoky cabins, I impute the blindness which is so exceedingly common throughout the nation. I particularly desire, wherever you have preaching, that there may be a little house. Let this be got without delay. Wherever it is not, let none expect to see me." METHODISM IN IRELAND. 151 glish Methodists,* and he lived to see a larger society at Dublin than any in England, except that in the metrop- olis. ♦ " The meeting-house at Athlone was built and given, with the ground on which it stood, by a single gentleman. In Cork, one per- son, Mr. Thomas Jones, gave between three and four hundred pounds toward the preaching-house. Toward that in Dublin, Mr. Lunell gave four hundred pounds. I know no such benefactors among the Method- ists in England." — Journal xvi., p. 23. CHAPTER XXIV. WESLEY IN MEDDLE AGE. It is with the minds of men as with fermented liquors ; they are long in ripening, in proportion to their strength. Both the Wesleys had much to work off; and the process, therefore, was of long continuance. In Charles it was per- fected about middle life. His enthusiasm had spent itself, and his opinions were modified by time, as well as sobered by experience. In the forty-first year of his age he was married by his brother, at Garth, in Brecknockshire, to Miss Sarah Gwynne. " It was a solemn day," says John, *' such as became the dignity of a Christian marriage." For a while he continued to itinerate, as he had been wont ; but, after a few years, he became a settled man, and was contented to perform the duties and enjoy the comforts of domestic life. John also began to think of marriage, after his brother's example, though he had published *' Thoughts on a Single Life," wherein he advised all unmarried persons, who were able to receive it, to follow the counsel of our Lord and of St. Paul, and " remain single for the kingdom of Heaven's sake." He did not, indeed, suppose that such a precept could have been intended for the many, and assented fully to the sentence of the apostle, who pronounced the for- bidding to marry to be a doctrine of devils." Some no- tion, however, that the marriage state was incompatible with holiness, seems, in consequence, perhaps, of this treat- ise, to have obtained ground among some of his followers at one time ; for it was asked, at the Conference of 1745, whether a sanctified believer could be capable of marriage. The answer was, " Why should he not V And probably the question was asked for the purpose of thus condemning a preposterous opinion. When he himself resolved to mar- ry, it appears that he made both his determination and his choice without the knowledge of Charles; and that Charles, when he discovered the affair, found means, for reasons WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 153 which undoubtedly he must have thought sufficient, to break off the match. But John was offended, and for a time there was a breach of that union between them which had never before been disturbed. It was not long before he made a second choice, and, unfortunately for himself, no one then interfered. The treatise which he had written in recommendation of celibacy placed him in an unfortunate situation; and, for the sake of appearances, he consulted certain religious friends, that they might advise him to follow his own in- clination. His chief counselor was Mr. Perronet, Vicar of Shoreham. " Having received a full answer from Mr. Perronet," he says, " I was clearly convinced that I ought to marry. For many years I remained single, because I believed I could be more useful in a single than in a mar- ried state ; and I praised God who enabled me so to do. I now as fully believed that, in my present circumstances, I might be more useful in a married state ; into which, upon this clear conviction, and by the advice of my friends, I en- tered a few days after." He thought it expedient, too, to meet the single men of the society in London, and show them " on how many accounts it was good for those who had received that gift from God, to remain single for the kingdom of Heaven's sake, unless when a particular case might be an exception to the general rule !" To those who properly respected Mr. Wesley, this must have been a painful scene ; to his blind admirers, no doubt, comic as the situation was, it was an edifying one. The lady whom he married was a widow, by name Vizelle, with four children,* and an independent fortune ; but he took care that this should be settled upon herself, and refused to have any command over it. It was agreed, also, before their marriage, that he should not preach one sermon, nor travel one mile the less, on that account : " if * One of them quitted the profession of surgery, because, he said, " it made him less sensible of human pain." Wesley says, when he re- lates this, " I do not know (unless it unfits us for the duties of life) that we can have too great a sensibility of human pain. Methinks I should be afraid of losing any degree of this sensibility. And I have known exceeding few persons who have carried this tenderness of spirit to ex- cess." He appears to have mentioned the conduct of his son-in-law as to his honor; but he relates elsewhere the saying of another surgeon in a right manly spirit — " Mr. Wesley, you know I would not hurt a fly ; I would not give pain to any hving thing ; but if it were necessary. ] would scrape all the flesh off a man's bones, and never turn my head aside." G* 154 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. I thought I should," said he, "as well as I love you, I would never see your face more." And in his Journal, at this time, he says, *' I can not understand how a Methodist preacher can answer it to God, to preach one sermon, or travel one day less, in a married than in a single state. In this respect, surely, it remaineth, that they who have wives, be as though they had none." For a little while she trav- eled with him ; but that mode of life, and, perhaps, the sort of company to which, in the course of their journeys, she was introduced, soon became intolerable — as it must neces- sarily have been to any woman who did not enter wholly into his views and partake of his enthusiasm. But, of all wom- en, she is said to have been the most unsuited to him. Fain would she have made him, like Marc Antony, give up all for love ; and, being disappointed in that hope, she tor- mented him in such a manner, by her outrageous jealousy, and abominable temper, that she deserves to be classed in a triad with Xantippe and the wife of Job, as one of the three bad wives. Wesley, indeed, was neither so submis- sive as Socrates, nor so patient as the man of Uz.* He knew that he was by nature the stronger vessel, of the more worthy gender, and lord and master by law; and that the words, honor and obey, were in the bond. " Know me," said he, in one of his letters to her, "and know yourself Suspect me no more, asperse me no more, provoke me no more : do not any longer contend for mastery, for power, money, or praise; be content to be a private, insignificant person, known and loved by God and me. Attempt no more to abridge me of my liberty, which I claim by the laws of God and man: leave me to be governed by God and my own conscience : then shall I govern you with gentle sway, even as Christ the Church." He reminded her that she had laid to his charge things that he knew not, robbed him, betrayed his confidence, revealed his secrets, given him a thousand treacherous wounds, and made it her business so to do, under the pretense of vindicating her own character; " whereas," said he, " of what importance is your character to mankind 1 If you was buried just now, * ["Mr. Southey," says the daughter of Charles Wesley, "did not know him or any of his family. My father used to say that his broth- er's patience toward his wife exceeded all bounds. The daughter of Mrs. Wesley was an indubitable witness of his forbearance, and bore her testimony of it ; so did many who knew of the treatment which he bore without complaint or reproach." — Am. Ed.'] WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 155 OB if you had never lived, what loss would it be to the cause of God V This was very true, but not very conciliating; and there are few stomachs which could bear to have hu- mility administered in such doses. " God," said he, in this same letter, " has used many means to curb your stubborn will, and break the impetu- osity of your temper. He has given you a dutiful, but sickly, daughter. He has taken away one of your sons ; another has been a grievous cross, as the third probably will be. He has suffered you to be defrauded of much money ; He has chastened you with strong pain ; and still He may say, How long liftest thou up thyself against me 1 Are you more humble, more gentle, more patient, more placable than you was 1 I fear, quite the reverse : I fear your natural tempers are rather increased than diminished. Under all these conflicts, it might be an unspeakable bless- ing that you have a husband who knows your temper, and can bear with it ; who is still willing to forgive you all, to overlook what is past, as if it had not been, and to receive you with open arms ; only not while you have a sword in your hand, with which you are continually striking at me, though you can not hurt me. If, notwithstanding, you continue striking, what can I, what can all reasonable men think, but that either you are utterly out of your senses, or your eye is not single ; that you married me only for my money ; that, being disappointed, you was almost always out of humor : that this laid you open to a thousand suspicions, which, once awakened, could sleep no more. My dear Molly, let the time past suffice. If you have not (to prevent my giving it to bad women) robbed me of my substance too; if you do not blacken me, on purpose that, when this causes a breach between us, no one may believe it to be your fault ; stop, and consider what you do. As yet the breach may be repaired : you have wronged me much, but not beyond forgiveness. I love you still, and am as clear from all other women as the day I was born." Had Mrs. Wesley been capable of understanding her husband's character, she could not possibly have been jealous ; but the spirit of jealousy possessed her, and drove her to the most unwarrantable actions. It is said that she frequently traveled a hundred miles, for the purpose of watching, from a window, who was in the carriage with him when he entered a town. She searched his pockets, 156 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. opened his letters,* put his letters and papers into the hands of his enemies, in hopes that they might he made use of to blast his character ; and sometimes laid violent * There is no allusion in Wesley's Journal to his domestic unbappi- ness, unless it be in Journal xi., p. 9 ; where, after noticing some diffi- culties upon the road, be says, " Between nine and ten, came to Bristol. Here I met wath a trial of another kind : but this also shall be for good." His letters throw some light upon this part of his history, which would not be worth elucidating, if it did not at the same time elucidate his character. Writing to Mrs. S. R. (Sarah Ryeui, a most enthusiastic woman), he says, " Last Friday, after many severe words, my wife left me, vowing she would see me no more. As I had wrote to you the same morning, I began to reason with myself, till I almost doubted whether I had done well in writing, or whether I ought to write to you at all. After prayer, that doubt was taken away ; yet I was almost sorry that I had written that morning. In the evening, while I was preaching at the chapel, she came into the chamber where I had left my clothes, searched my pockets, and found the letter there which I had finished, but had not sealed. While she read it, God broke her heart ; and I afterward found her in such a temper as I have not seen her in for several years. She has continued in the same ever since. So I think God has given a sufficient answer with regard to our writing to each other." But he says to the same person, eight years afterward, "It has frequently been said, and with some appearance of truth, that you endeavor to monopolize the affections of all that fall into your hands ; that you destroy the nearest and dearest connection they had before, and make them quite cool and indifferent to their most intimate friends. I do not at aU speak on my own account ; I set myself out of the ques- tion : but, if there be any thing of the kind with regard to other people, I should be sony both for them and you." There is an unction about his correspondence with this person, which must have appeared Hke strong confirmation to so jealous a woman as Mrs. Wesley. He says to her, "The conversing with you, either by speaking or writing, is an unspeakable blessing to me. I can not think of you without thinking of God. Others often lead me to him ; but it is as it were going round about ; you bring me sti-aight into his presence. You have refreshed my bowels in the Lord. (Wesley is very seldom guilty of this sort of canting and offensive language. ) I not only excuse, but love your simplicity ; and whatever freedom you use, it will be welcome. I can hardly avoid trembling for you ! Upon what a pin- nacle do you stand .' Perhaps few persons in England have been in so dangerous a situation as you are now. I know not whether any other was ever so regarded, both by my brother and me, at the same time.^ He questions her, not only about her thoughts, her imaginations, and her reasonings, but even about her dreams : " Is there no vanitj- or folly in your dreams? no temptation, that almost overcomes you ? And are you then as sensible of the presence of God, and as full of prayer, as when you are waking?" She replies to this curious interrogation, " As to my dreams, I seldom remember them ; but when I do, I find in general they are harmless." This Sarah Ryan was at one time house- keeper at the School at Kingswood. Her account of herself, which is printed in the second volume of the Arrainian Magazine, is highly enthusiastic, and shows her to have been a woman of heated fancy and •trong natural talents. It appears, however, incidciitully, iu Wesley's WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 157 hands upon him, and tore his hair. She frequently loft his house, and, upon his earnest entreaties, returned again ; till, after having thus disquieted twenty years of his life, as far as it was possible for any domestic vexations to disquiet a man whose life was passed in locomotion, she seized on part of his Journals, and many other papers, which were never restored, and departed, leaving word that she never intended to return. He simply states the fact in his Jour- nal, saying, that he knew not what the cause had been ; and he briefly adds, Non earn rel 'iqui,non dimisi, non revo- cabo ; I did not forsake her, I did not dismiss her, I will not recall her." Thus, summarily, was a most injudicious marriage dissolved.* Mrs. Wesley lived ten years after the separation, and is described in her epitaph as a woman of exemplary piety, a tender parent, and a sincere friend : the tombstone says nothing of her conjugal virtues. But even if John Wesley's marriage had proved as happy in all other respects as Cliarles's, it would not have produced upon him the same sedative effect. Entirely as these two brothers agreed in opinions and principles, and cordially as they had acted together during so many years, there was a radical difference in their dispositions. Of Charles it has been said, by those who knew him best, that if ever there was a human being who disliked power, avoided preeminence, and shrunk from praise, it was he : whereas no conqueror or poet was ever more ambitious than John Wesley.t Charles could forgive an injury ; but never again trusted one whom he had found treacherous. John could take men a second time to his confidence, after the greatest wrongs and the basest usage : perhaps, because he had not so keen an insight into the characters of men as his brother ; perhaps, because he regarded them as his instruments, and thought that all other considerations must give way to the interests of the spiritual dominion which he had acquired. It may be suspected that Charles, when he saw the mischief and the villainy, as well as the follies, letter, that though she professed to have " a direct witness" of being saved from sin, she afterward "fell from that salvation." And in another place he notices her " littleness of understanding." * [See Appendix, Note XXII.— ^w. Ed.] t [Can the reader believe that this John Wesley is the same person whom this same Robert Southey describes as one who "loved the Lord with all his heart?" Respecting this ever recurring charge of ambi- tion, see the " Remarks on the Character of Wesley," by Alexander Knox, appended to these volumes. — Am. Ed.'] 158 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. to which Methodism gave occasion ; and when he perceived its tendency to a separation from the Church, tliought that he had gone too far, and looked with sorrow to the conse- quences which he foresaw.* John's was an aspiring and a joyous spirit, free from all regret for the past, or appre- hension for the future : his anticipations were always hope- ful ; and, if circumstances arose contrary to his wishes, which he was unable to control, he accommodated himself to them, made what advantage of them he could, and in- sensibly learned to expect with complacency, as the inevi- table end of his career, a schism which at the commence- ment he would have regarded with horror, as a dutiful and conscientious minister of the Church of England. In the first Conference it was asked, " Do you not entail a schism on the Church ? Is it not probable that your hearers, after your death, will be scattered into all sects and parties ] or that they will form themselves into a dis- tinct sect^' The answer was, "We are persuaded the body of our hearers will, even after our death, remain in the Church, unless ihey be thrust out. We believe, not- withstanding, either that they will be thrust out, or that they will leaven the whole Church. We do, and will do, all we can to prevent those consequences which are sup- posed likely to happen after our death ; but we can not, with a good conscience, neglect the present opportunity of saving souls while we live, for fear of consequences which may possibly or probably happen after we are dead." Five years afterward the assistants were charged to exhort all those who had been brought up in the Church, con- stantly to attend its service, to question them individually concerning this, to set the example themselves, and to alter every plan which interfered with it. ** Is there not," it was said, " a cause for this 1 Are we not, unawares, by little and little, tending to a separation from the Church ] Oh, remove every tendency thereto with all diligence ! Let all our preachers go to church. Let all our people go * [On this passage the daughter of Charles Wesley, a woman whose learning and sound judgment give great weight to her opinions, re- marks : " My father no more thought that ' mischief, \Tllainy, and folly/ were occasioned by Methodism than by Christianity, which infidels affirm. He certainly regretted any tendency to separation from the Church; but he loved the Methodists to the last, did justice to their lives and principles, and always considered them as raised up to be auxiliaries to the Church, and a peculiar people zealous of good works."— ^wi. Ed.2 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 159 constantly. Receive the sacrament at every opportunity. Warn all against niceness in hearing — a great and prevail- ing evil : warn them likewise against despising the prayers of the Church ; against calling our Society a church, or the Church ; against calling our preachers ministers, our houses meeting-houses : call them plain preaching-houses. Do not license them as such. The proper form of a petition to the Judges is, * A, B. desires to have his house in C. licensed for public worship.' Do not license yourself till you are constrained, and then not as a Dissenter, but a Methodist preacher. It is time enough when you are prosecuted, to take the oaths ; thereby you are licensed." The leaven of ill-will toward the Church was introduced among the Methodists by those dissenters who joined them. Wesley saw whence it proceeded, and was prepared to resist its effect by the feelings which he had imbibed from his father,* as well as by his sense of duty. But there were other causes which increased and strengthened the tendency that had thus been given. It is likely that, when the Nonjurors disappeared as a separate party, many of them would unite with the Methodists, being a middle course between the Church and the Dissenters, which re- quired no sacrifice either of principle or of pride. t Having joined them, their leaning would naturally be toward a separation from the Establishment. But the main cause is to be found in the temper of the lay preachers, who, by an * "A thousand times," says he, "have I found my father's w^ords true : ' You may have peace with the Dissenters, if you do not so humor them as to dispute with them. But if you do, they will out-face and out-lung you; and, at the end, you will be where you were at the beginning.' " t ["The great causes which have led to separation as far as it is gone, have not been understood by Mr. Southey. It is perfectly ima- ginary to suppose that any disposition to this was produced by the non- jurors connecting themselves with the Methodists when they disap- peared as a separate body, for perhaps twenty of them never became members. It is also gratuitously assumed that many dissenters espoused Methodism, from whom a " leaven of ill-will to the Church" has been derived. Not so many persons of this description ever became Method- ists as to produce much effect upon the opinions of the body at large. Nor was the cause " the natural tendency of Mr. Wesley's measures," considered simply. Of themselves those measures did not produce separation; it resulted from circumstances, which, of course, Mr. Southey would not be disposed to bring into view, if he knew them ; but which were, in fact, the operating causes in chief. The true causes were — that the clergy, generally, did not preach the doctrines of their own Church and of the Reformation ; and that many of them did not adorn their profession in their lives." — Rev. R. Watson. — Am. Ed.} 160 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. easy and obvious process, were led to conclude, that they were as much authorized to exercise one part of the min- isterial functions as another. They had been taught to consider, and were accustomed to represent the clergy in the most unfavorable light. Wesley sometimes repre- hended this in strong terms : but, upon this point, he was not consistent; and whenever he had to justify the appoint- ment of lay preachers, he was apt, in self-defense, to com- mit the fault which, at other times, he condemned. " I am far," says he, in one of his sermons, " from desiring to aggravate the defects of my brethren, or to paint them in the strongest colors. Far be it from me to treat others as I have been treated myself; to return evil for evil, or rail- ing for railing. But, to speak the naked truth, not with anger or contempt, as too many have done, I acknowledge that many, if not most of those that were appointed to minister in holy things, with whom it has been my lot to converse, in almost every part of England or Ireland, for forty or fifty years last past, have not been eminent either for knowledge or piety. It has been loudly affirmed, that most of those persons now in connection with me, who believe it their duty to call sinners to repentance, having been taken immediately from low trades — tailors, shoe- makers, and the like, are a set of poor, stupid, illiterate men, that scarcely know their right hand from their left; yet I can not but say, that I would sooner cut off my right hand than suffer one of them to speak a word in any of our chapels, if I had not reasonable proof that he had more knowledge in the Holy Scriptures, more knowledge of himself, more knowledge of God, and of the things of God, than nine in ten of the clergymen I have conversed with, either at the universities or elsewhere." The situation in which Wesley stood led him to make this comparison, and not to make it fairly. It induced him also to listen to those who argued in favor of a sepa- ration from the Church, and to sum up their reasonings, with a bias in their favor. " They who plead for it," said he, " have weighed the point long and deeply, and consid- ered it with earnest and continued prayer. They admit, if it be lawful to abide therein, then it is not lawful to sep- arate : but they aver it is not lawful to abide therein ; for, though they allow the Liturgy to be, in general, one of the most excellent of all human compositions, they yet think it both absurd and sinful to declare such an assent and con- WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. IGl sent as is required, to any merely human composition. Though they do not object to the use of forms, they dare not confine themselves to them ; and, in this form, there are several things vs^hich they apprehend to be contrary to Scripture. As to the laws of the Church, if they include the canons and decretals (both which are received as such in our courts), they think the latter are the very dregs of popery, and that many of the former (the canons of 1603) are as grossly wicked as absurd ; that the spirit which they breathe is, throughout, truly popish and anti-Christian ; that nothing can be more diabolical than the ipso facto excom- munication so often denounced therein ; and that the whole method of executing these canons, the process used in our spiritual courts, is too bad to be tolerated, not in a Chris- tian, but in a Mohammedan or Pagan nation. With re- gard to the ministers, they doubt whether there are not many of them whom God hath not sent, inasmuch as they neither live the Gospel, nor teach it ; neither, indeed, can they, since they do not know it. They doubt the more, because these ministers themselves disclaim that inward call to the ministry, which is at least as necessary as the outward ; and they are not clear whether it be lawful to attend the ministrations of those whom God has not sent to minister. They think, also, that the doctrines actually taught, by a great majority of the church ministers, are not only wrong, but fundamentally so, and subversive of the whole Gospel : therefore, they doubt whether it be lawful to bid them God speed, or to have any fellowship with them. I will freely acknowledge," he adds, "that I can not answer these arguments to my own satisfaction. As yet," he pursued, ** we have not taken one step farther than we were convinced was our bounden duty. It is from a full conviction of this that we have preached abroad, prayed extempore, formed societies, and permitted preachers who were not episcopally ordained. And were we pushed on this side, were there no alternative allowed, we should judge it our bounden duty, rather wholly to separate from the Church, than to give up any one of these points ; there- fore, if we can not stop a separation without stopping lay preachers, the case is clear, we can not stop it at all. But, if we permit them, should we not do more 1 — should we not appoint them, rather ] since the bare permission puts the matter quite out of our hands, and deprives us of all our influence. In great measure, it does : therefore, to 162 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. appoint them is far more expedient, if it be lawful : but is it lawful for presbyters, circumstanced as we are, to ap- point other ministers 1 This is the very point wherein we desire advice, being afraid of leaning to our own under- standing." An inclination to episcopize was evidently shown in this language ; but Wesley did not yet venture upon the act, in deference, perhaps, to his brother's determined and prin- cipled opposition. Many of his preachers, however, were discontented with the rank which they held in public opin- ion, thinking that they were esteemed inferior to the dis- senting ministers, because they did not assume so much : they therefore urged him to take upon himself the episco- pal office, and ordain them, that they might administer the ordinances ; and, as he could not be persuaded to this, they charged him with inconsistency, for tolerating lay preaching, and not lay administering. This charge he re- pelled : "My principle," said he, "is this: I submit to every ordinance of man, wherever I do not consider there is an absolute necessity for acting contrary to it. Consist- ently with this, I do tolerate lay preaching, because I con- ceive there is an absolute necessity for it, inasmuch as were it not, thousands of souls would perish everlastingly. Yet I do not tolerate lay administering ; because I do not con- ceive there is any such necessity for it, seeing it does not appear that one soul will perish for want of it.* This was, of course, called persecution, by those whom his de- termination disappointed ; and they accused him of injus- tice in denying them the liberty of acting according to their own conscience. They thought it quite right that they should administer the Lord's Supper, and believed it would do much good : he thought it quite wrong, and believed it would do much hurt. " I have no right over your con- sciences," he said, " nor you over mine : therefore, both you and I must follow our own conscience. You believe it is a duty to administer ; do so, and therein follow your ♦ [Wesley had evidently, by this time, escaped from the superstitious fancy, that the formal act of ordination imparts a character to its sub- ject •, — he then beheved that he whom God had called to preach, was ipso facto made a minister of the New Testament, — a degree whose highest office is " not to baptize, but preeich the Gospel," — and that while duty impelled him to promote the preaching of the Gospel, in a way styled irregular, expediency required that his "helpers" should forego the use of their authority to administer the sacraments. — Am. Ed.] WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 163 own conscience. I verily believe it is a sin, which, conse- quently, I dare not tolerate; and herein I follow mine." And he argued, that it was no persecution to separate from bis society those who practiced what he believed was con- trary to the will, and destructive of the word of God. It does not appear that any of his preachers withdrew from him on this account : the question was not one upon which, at that time, a discontented man could hope to divide the society ; and, if they did not assent to Mr. Wes- ley's arguments, they acquiesced in his will. Secessions, however, and expulsions, from other causes, not unfre- quently took place : and once he found it necessary to institute an examination of his preachers, because of cer- tain scandals which had arisen. The person with whom the offense began was one James Wheatley. At first he made himself remarkable, by introducing a luscious man- ner of preaching, which, as it was new among the Method- ists, and at once stimulant and flattering, soon became popular, and obtained imitators. They who adopted it assumed to themselves the appellation of Gospel preach- ers, and called their brethren, in contempt, legalists, legal wretches, and doctors in divinity. Wesley presently per- ceived the mischief that was done by these men, whose secret was, to speak much of the promises, and little of the commands : " They corrupt their hearers," said he ; " they feed them with sweetmeats, till the genuine wine of the kingdom seems quite insipid to them. They give them cordial upon cordial, which makes them all life and spirits for the present ; but, meantime, their appetite is destroyed, so that they can neither retain nor digest the pure milk of the word. As soon as that flow of spirits goes off", they are without life, without power, without any strength or vigor of soul ; and it is extremely difficult to recover them, be- cause they still cry out, Cordials ! Cordials ! of which they have had too much already, and have no taste for the food which is convenient for them. Nay, they have an utter aversion to it, and this confirmed by principle, having been taught to call it husks, if not poison. How much more to those bitters, which are previously needful to restore their decayed appetite !" Wheatley was a quack in physic, as well as in divinity, and he was soon detected in fouler practices. Complaint being at length made of his infamous licentiousness, the two brothers inquired into it, and obtained complete proof 164 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. of his guilt. Upon this they delivered into his hands a written sentence of suspension in these terms : *' Because you have wrought folly in Israel, grieved the Holy Spirit of God, betrayed your own soul into temptation and sin, and the souls of many others, whom you ought, even at the peril of your own life, to have guarded against all sin ; be- cause you have given occasion to the enemies of God, wherever they shall know these things, to blaspheme the ways and truth of God ; we can in no wise receive you as a fellow-laborer, till we see clear proofs of your real and deep repentance. The least and lowest proof of such re- pentance which we can receive is this, — that, till our next Conference, you abstain both from preaching and from prac- ticing physic. If you do not, we are clear : we can not answer for the consequences." They were not aware at the time of the extent of this hypocrite's criminality ; but enough was soon discovered to make it necessary for them to disclaim him by public advertisements. The matter be- came so notorious at Norwich, that the affidavits of the women whom he had endeavored to corrupt, were printed and hawked about the streets. The people were ready to tear him to pieces, as he deserved ; and the cry against the Methodists was such, in consequence, that Charles Wesley said, Satan or his apostles could not have done more to shut the door against the Gospel in that place forever. This was a case of individual villainy, and produced no other injury to Methodism than an immediate scandal, which was soon blown over. But it is the nature of men- tal, as well as of corporeal diseases, to propagate them- selves, and schism is one of the most prolific of all errors. One separation had already taken place between the Meth- odists and the Moravians ; the Calvinistic question had made a second. A minor schism was now made, by a cer- tain James Kelly, who, having commenced his career under the patronage of Whitefield, ended in forming a heresy of his own, which had the merit, at least, of being a humaner scheme than that of his master, however untenable in other respects. Shocked at the intolerable notion of reprobation, and yet desirous of holding the tenet of election, he fancied that sin was to be considered as a disease, for which the death of our Redeemer was the remedy ; and that, as evil had been introduced into human nature by the first Adam, who was of the earth, earthly, so must it be expelled by the second, who is from heaven, and therefore heavenly. WESLEY tN MIDDLE AGE. 1G5 Pursuing this motiorj, he taught that Christ, as a Mediator, was united to mankind, and, by his obedience and suffer- ings, had as fully restored the whole human race to the divine favor, as if all had obeyed or suffered in their own persons. So he preached a finished salvation, which in- cluded the final restitution of all fallen intelligences. Sin being only a disease,* could not deserve punishment : it was in itself, and in its consequences, a sufficient evil ; for, while it existed, darkness and unbelief accompanied it, and occasioned a privation of that happiness which the Almighty designed for all his creatures ; but, in the end, all would be delivered, and the elect were only chosen to be the first fruits — the pledges and earnest of the general harvest. Relly had for his coadjutor one William Cud- worth, of whom Wesley observed, after an interview with him, " that his opinions were all his own, quite new, and his phrases as new as his opinions, yea, and phrases too, he affirmed to be necessary to salvation ; maintaining, that all who did not receive them worshiped another God ; and that he was as incapable as a brute beast of being convinced, even in the smallest point." On another occasion, he re- marks, that Cudworth, Relly, and their associates abhorred him as much as they did the Pope, and ten times more than they did the devil. The devil, indeed, was no object of abhorrence with them : like Uncle Toby, they were sorry for him ; and, like Origen, they expected his reformation. They formed a sect, which continues to exist in America, as well as in England, by the name of the Relly an Univer- salists ; and it is said that Washington's chaplain was a preacher of this denomination. The tendency of these opinions was to an easy and quiet latitudinarianism. Antinomianism, with which they were connected, was far more mischievous, when combined with enthusiasm ; and this was the evil to which Methodism always perilously inclined. There is in the Antinomian scheme, and indeed in all predestinarian schetties, an audacity which is congenial to certain minds. They feel a pride in daring to profess doctrines which are so revolt- ing to the common sense and feelings of mankind. Minds of a similar temper, but in a far worse state, maintain the ♦ James Relly should have read an old treatise upon the Sinful- ness of Sin, which, notwithstanding its odd title, is the work of a sound and powerful intellect. If I remember rightly, it is by Bishop Rey- nolds. 166 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. notion of the necessity of human actions,* but reject a first cause. It is from a like effrontery of spirit that this last and worst corruption proceeds ; and as the causes are alike, so also the practical consequences of Antinomianism and Atheism would be the same, if men were always as bad as their opinions ; for the professors of both have emancipated themselves from any other restraint than what may be imposed by the fear of human laws. Wesley was mistaken in supposing the doctrine, that there is no sin in believers, was never heard of till the time of Count Zinzendorf It is as old in England as the Reformation, t and might undoubtedly be traced in many an early heresy. The Moravians had the rare merit of sometimes acknowledging their errors, and correcting them : on this point, they modified their language till it became reasonable ; but the Methodists had caught the error, and did not so easily rid themselves of it. God thrust us out," says Wesley, speaking of himself and his brother, " utterly against our will, to raise a holy people. When Satan could no otherwise prevent this, he threw Calvinism in our way, and then Antinomianism, which struck at the root both of inward and outward holiness. "| He acknowledged that they had, unawares, leaned too much toward both ; and that the truth of the Gospel lies within a hair's breadth of them : " So," said he, " that it is ♦ Archbishop Sancroft says well of the fatalist: "He uses necessity as the old philosophers did an occult qualit}*. though to a different pur- pose : that was their refuge for ignorance ; this is his sanctuary for sin." + Burnet speaks of certain " corrupt Gospelers, who thought, if they magnified Christ much, and depended on his merits and intercession, they could not perish, which way soever they led their lives. And special care was taken in the homilies to rectify this error." X This pernicious doctrine was well explained in the first Conference : " Q. What is Antinomianism ? A. The doctrine which makes void the law through faith. Q. What are the main pillars thereof? A. 1. That Christ abolished the moral law. 2. That therefore Christians are not obliged to observe it. 3. That one branch of Christian liberty, is liberty from obeying the commandments of God. 4. That it is bondage to do a thing, because it is commanded ; or forbear it, because it is forbidden. 5. That a believer is not obliged to use the ordinances of God, or to do good works. 6. That a preacher ought not to exhort to good works : not un- believers, because it is hurtful ; not believers, because it is useless." WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE 167 altogether foolish and sinful, because we do not quite agree either with one or the other, to run from them as far as ever we can." The question, " Wherein may we come to the very edge of Calvinism ?" was proposed in the second Conference ; and the answer was, " In ascribing all good to the free grace of God : in denying all natural free-will, and all power antecedent to grace; and in excluding all merit from man, even for what he has or does by the grace of God."* This was endeavoring to split the hair. "Where- in may we come to the edge of Antinomianism V was asked likewise ; and the answer was less objectionable : " In exalting the merits and love of Christ ; in rejoicing evermore." In endeavoring to approach the edge of this penlous notion, Wesley went sometimes too near. But his general opinion could not be mistaken ; and when any of his fol- lowers fell into the error, he contended against it zealous- ly. It was a greater hinderance, he said, to the word of God, than any, or all others put together : and he some- times complains, that most of the seed which had been sown during so many years, had been rooted up and destroyed by *' the wild boars, the fierce, unclean, brutish, blasphemous Antinomians."t From this reproach, indeed, * If we substitute "actual," for "natural," in the preceding sen- tence, the error is con6ned to the words, " and in excluding all merit from man, even for what he has or does by the grace of God," instead of which, we might safely put the following : " and by including all merit of man, for what he has or does by the grace of God, in the merits of the Mediator, perfect God, and perfect man ;" by which, and by the imputation of which, all human merit is, and is possible. But I dare not condemn those of the early Reformers who looked with suspicion on the application of the word to individuals, even so ex- plained, and thus cautiously guarded. For if that popular and com- mon-sense view of men as individuals other than the Son of Man be meant, — which view alone the generality of Christians can understand, — or if any view but that of the transcendent union, in which we have our being, personality, and freedom in the being, person, and will of God, — then it is clear that the term merit is used in two diverse senses, as applied to Christ, and applied to man. — S. T. C. t The annexed extract from Wesley's Journal will show that this language is not too strong : " I came to Wensbury. The Antinomian teachers had labored hard to destroy this poor people. I talked an hour with the chief of them, Stephen Timmins. I was in doubt whether pride had not made him mad. An uncommon wildness and fierceness in his air, his words, and the whole manner of his behavior, almost induced me to think Grod had, for a season, given him up into the hands of Satan. In the evening I preached at Birmingham. Here another of their pillars, J W> , came to me, and looking 168 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. which attaches to many of his Calvinistic opponents, he was entirely clear, and the great body of his society has continued so. But his disposition to believe in miraculous manifestations of divine favors, led him sometimes to en- courage an enthusiasm which impeached his own judg- ment, and brought a scandal upon Methodism. Among the converts to Methodism, at this time, were Mr. Berridge, vicar of Everton, in Bedfordshire, and Mr. Hickes, vicar of Wrestlingwoith, in the same neighbor- hood. These persons, by their preaching, produced the same contagious convulsions in their hearers, as had for- merly prevailed at Bristol ; and though time had sobered Mr. Wesley's feelings, and matured his judgment, he was so far deceived, that he recorded the things which occurred, not as psychological, but as religious cases. They were of the most frightful and extraordinary kind. An eye- witness described the church at Everton as crowded with persons from all the country round ; " the windows," he says, " being filled, within and without, and even the out- side of the pulpit, to the very top, so that Mr. Berridge seemed almost stifled with their breath ; yet," the relator continues, " feeble and sickly as he is, he was continually strengthened, and his voice, for the most part, distinguish- able in the midst of all the outcries. When the power of religion began to be spoke of, the presence of God really filled the place ; and while poor sinners felt the sentence of death in their souls, what sounds of distress did I hear ! The greatest number of them who cried, or fell, were men ; but some women, and several children, felt the power of over his shoulder, said, ' Don't think I want to be in your society ; but it" you are free to speak to me, you may.' I will set down the conver- sation, dreadful as it was, in the very manner wherein it passed, that every serious person may see the true picture of Antinomianisra full grown ; and may know what these men mean by their favorite phrase of being 'perfect in Christ, not in themselves. ' Do you believe you have nothing to do with the law of God?' *I have not. I am not under the law. I live by faith.' — ' Have you, as living by faith, a right to ever}' thing in the world?' 'I have. All is mine, since Christ is mine.' — ' May you then take any thing you will, anywhere ? suppose, out of a shop, without the consent or knowledge of the owner?' *l may, if I want it ; for it is mine ; only I will not give offense.' — ' Have you also a right to all the women in the world V ' Yes, if they con- sent.' — 'And is that not a sin?' 'Yes, to him that thinks it a sin ; but not to those whose hearts are fi-ee.' The same thing that ^\Tetch Roger Ball affirmed in Dublin Surely these are the first-bom children of Satan !" WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 169 the same Almighty Spirit, and seemed just sinking into hell. This occasioned a mixture of various sounds ; some shrieking, some roaring aloud. The most general was a loud breathing, like that of people half-strangled, and gasping for life ; and, indeed, almost all the cries were like those of human creatures dying in bitter anguish. Great numbers wept without any noise ; others fell down as dead ; some sinking in silence, some with extreme noise and violent agitation. I stood on the pew seat, as did a young man in the opposite pew, an able-bodied, fresh, healthy countryman ; but, in a moment, while he seemed to think of nothing less, down he dropped, with a violence inconceivable. The adjoining pews seemed shook with his fall : I heard afterward the stamping of his feet, ready to break the boards, as he lay in strong convulsions at the bottom of the pew. When he fell, Mr. B 11 and I felt our souls thrilled with a momentary dread ; as, when one man is killed by a cannon-ball, another often feels the wind of it. Among the children who felt the arrows of the Almighty, I saw a sturdy boy, about eight years old, who roared above his fellows, and seemed, in his agony, to atruggle with the strength of a grown man. ^is face was red as scarlet ; and almost all on whom God laid his hand, turned either very red, or almost black." The congregation adjourned to Mr. Berridgeu house, whither those who were still in the fit were carried : the maddened people were eager for more stimulants, and the insane vicar was as willing to administer more, as they were to receive it. " I stayed in the next room," says the relator, ** and saw a girl, whom I had observed peculiarly distressed in the church, lying on the floor as one dead, but without any ghastliness in her face. In a few minutes we were informed of a woman filled with peace and joy, who was crying out just before. She had come thirteen miles, and is the same person who dreamed Mr. Berridge would come to his village on that very day whereon he did come, though without either knowing the place or the way to it. She was convinced at that time. Just as we heard of her deliverance, the girl on the floor began to stir. She was then set in a chair, and, after sighing awhile, sudden- ly rose up, rejoicing in God. Her face was covered with the most beautiful smile I ever saw. She frequently fell on her knees, but was generally running to and fro, speak- ing these and the like words : " Oh, what can Jesus do for lost VOL. II. — H 170 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. sinners ! He has forgiven all my sins ! I am in Heaven ! I am in Heaven ! Oh, how he loves me, and how I love him !" Meantime I saw a thin, pale girl weeping with sorrow for herself, and joy for her companion. Quickly the smiles of Heaven came likewise on her, and her prais- es joined with those of the other. I also then laughed with extreme joy ; so did Mr. B 11, who said it was more than he could well bear; so did all who knew the Lord, and some of those who were waiting for salvation, till the cries of them who were struck with the arrows of convic- tion were almost lost in the sounds of joy. Mr. Berridge about this time retired : we continued praising God with all our might, and his work went on. I had for some time observed a young woman all in tears, but now her coun- tenance changed ; the unspeakable joy appeared in her face, which, quick as lightning, was filled with smiles, and became a crimson color. About the same time John Keel- ing, of Potton, fell into an agony ; but he grew calm in about a quarter of an hour, though without a clear sense of pardon. Immediately after, a stranger, well dressed, who stood facing me, fell backward to the wall, then for- ward on his knees, wringing his hands, and roaring like a bull. His face at first turned quite red, then almost black. He rose and ran against the wall, till Mr. Keeling and another held him. He screamed out, ' Oh what shall I do! what shall I do! Oh, for one drop of the blood of Christ !' As he spoke, God set his soul at liberty : he knew his sins were blotted out ; and the rapture he was in seemed too great for human nature to bear. He had come forty miles to hear Mr. Berridge. " I observed, about the time that Mr. Coe (that was his name) began to rejoice, a girl eleven or twelve years old, exceedingly poorly dressed, who appeared to be as deeply wounded, and as desirous of salvation, as any. But I lost sight of her, till I heard the joyful sound of another born in Sion, and found, upon inquiry, it was her— the poor, disconsolate, Gipsy-looking child. And now did I see such a sight as I do not expect again on this side eternity. The faces of the three justified children, and, I think, of all the believers present, did really shine ; and such a beauty, such a look of extreme happiness, and, at the same time, of divine love and simplicity, did I never see in human faces till now. The newly justified eagerly embraced one another, weeping on each other's necks for joy, and be- WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 171 sought both men and women to help them in praising God." The same fits were produced by Mr. Hickes's preaching at Wrestlingwoith, whither this relator proceed- ed : and there also the poor creatures who were under the paroxysm were earned into the parsonage, where some lay as if they were dead, and others lay struggling. In both churches several pews and benches were broken by the violent struggling of the sufferers ; " yet," says the nar- rator, " it is common for people to remain unaffected there, and afterward drop down in their way home. Some have been found lying as dead in the road ; others in Mr. Ber- ridge's garden, not being able to walk from the church to his house, though it is not two hundred yards." The per- son who thus minutely described the progress of this pow- erful contagion, observes, that few old people experienced any thing of what he called the work of God, and scarce any of the rich ; and, with that uncharitable spirit, which is one of the surest and worst effects of such superstition, he remarks, that three farmers, in three several villages, who set themselves to oppose it, all died within a month. Such success made Berridge glorious in his own eyes, as well as in those of all the fanatics round about. He traveled about the country, making Everton still the cen- ter of his excursions ; and he confesses that, on one occa- sion, when he mounted a table upon a common near Cam- bridge, and saw nearly ten thousand people assembled, and many gownsmen among them, he paused after he had given out his text, thinking of " something pretty to set off with; but," says he, "the Lord so confounded me (as in- deed it was meet, for I was seeking not his glory, but my own), that I was in a perfect labyrinth, and found that, if I did not begin immediately, I must go down without speak- ing ; so I broke out with the first word that occurred, not knowing whether I should be able to add any more. Then the Lord opened my mouth, enabling me to speak near an hour, without any kind of perplexity, and so loud that every one might hear." For a season this man produced a more violent influenza of fanaticism than had ever fol- lowed upon either Whitefield's or Wesley's preaching. The people flocked to hear him in such numbers, that his church could not contain them, and they adjounied into a field. " Some of them," says an eye-witness, " who were here pricked to the heart, were affected in an astonishing manner. The first man I saw wounded would have 172 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. dropped, but others, catching him in their arms, did in- deed prop him up ; but were so far from keeping him still, that he caused all of them to totter and tremble. His own shaking exceeded that of a cloth in the wind. It seemed as if the Lord came upon him like a giant, taking him by the neck, and shaking all his bones in pieces. One woman tore up the ground with her hands, filling them with dust, and with the hard-trodden grass, on which I saw her lie with her hands clenched, as one dead, when the multitude dispersed ; another roared and screamed in a more dread- ful agony than ever I heard before. I omit the rejoicing of believers, because of their number, and the frequency thereof ; though the manner was strange, some of them being quite overpowered with divine love, and only show- ing enough of natural life to let us know they were over- whelmed with joy and life eternal. Some continued long as if they were dead, but with a calm sweetness in their looks. I saw one who lay two or three hours in the open air, and being then carried into the house, continued in- sensible another hour, as if actually dead. The first sign of life she showed was a rapture of praise, intermixed with a small joyous laughter." It may excite astonishment in other countries, and reasonable regret in this, that there should be no authority capable of restraining extravagances and indecencies like these. Berridge had been curate of Stapleford, near Cambridge, several years ; and now, after what he called his conversion, his heart was set upon preaching a " Gospel-sermon" there, which, he said, he had never done before. Some fifteen hundred persons assembled in a field to hear him. The contagion soon began to show itself among those who were predisposed for it : others, of a different temper, mocked and mimicked these poor creatures in their convulsions ; and some persons, who were in a better state of mind than either, indignant at the extravagance and indecency of the scene, called aloud to have those wretches horsewhipped out of the field. *' Well (says the fanatical writer) may Satan be enraged at the cries of the people, and the pray- ers they make in the bitterness of their soul, seeing we know these are the chief times at which Satan is cast out." — " I heard a dreadful noise, on the farther side of the congregation (says this writer), and turning thither, saw one Thomas Skinner coming forward, the most horrible human figure I ever saw. His large wig and hair were WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE> 173 coal-black ; his face distorted beyond all description. He roared incessantly, throwing and clapping his hands to- gether with his whole force. Several were tenified, and hastened out of his way. I was glad to hear him, after a while, pray aloud. Not a few of the triflers grew serious, while his kindred and acquaintance were very unwilling to believe even their own eyes and ears. They would fain have got him away ; but he fell to the earth, crying, ' My burden ! my burden ! I can not bear it.' Some of his brother scoffers were calling for horsewhips, till they saw him extended on his back at full length : they then said he was dead ; and indeed the only sign of life was the work- ing of his breast, and the distortions of his face, while the veins of his neck were swelled as if ready to burst. He was, just before, the chief captain of Satan's forces : none was by nature more fitted for mockery ; none could swear more heroically to whip out of the close all who were affected by the preaching." Berridge bade the people take warning by him, while he lay roaring and tormented on the ground. ** His agonies lasted some hours ; then his body and soul were eased." It is to be regretted that, of the many persons who hare gone through this disease, no one should have recorded his case who was capable of describing his sensations accu- rately, if not of analyzing them. Berridge and Hickes are said to have " awakened" about four thousand souls in the course of twelve months. Imposture in all degrees, from the first natural exaggeration to downright fraud, kept pace with enthusiasm. A child, seven years old, saw visions, and " astonished the neighbors with her innocent and awful manner of relating them." A young man whose mother affirmed that he had had fits, once a-day, at least, for the last two years, began to pray in those fits ; protest- ing afterward, that he knew not a word of what he had spoken, but was as ignorant of the matter as if he had been dead all the while. This impostor, when he was about to exhibit, stiffened himself like a statue ; *' his very neck seemed made of iron." After he had finished, his body grew flexible by degrees, but seemed to be convulsed from head to foot ; and when he thought proper to recover, he said, "he was quite resigned to the will of God, who gave him such strength in the inner man, that he did not find it grievous, neither could ask to be delivered from it." " I discoursed," says the credulous relator of these things, 174 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. " with Anne Thorn, who told me of much heaviness fol- lowing the visions with which she had been favored ; but said she was, at intervals, visited still with so much over- powering love and joy, especially at the Lord's Supper, that she often lay in a trance for many hours. She is twenty-one years old. We were soon after called into the garden, where Patty Jenkins, one of the same age, was so overwhelmed with the love of God, that she sunk down, and appeared as one in a pleasant sleep, only with her eyes open. Yet she had often just strength to utter, with a low voice, ejaculations of joy and praise ; but no words coming up to what she felt, she frequently laughed while she saw his glory. This is quite unintelligible to many, for a stranger intermeddleth not with our joy. So it was to Mr. M., who doubted whether God or the devil had filled her with love and praise. Oh, the depth of hu- man wisdom ! Mr. R., in the mean time, was filled with a solemn awe. I no sooner sat down by her, than the Spirit of God poured the same blessedness into my soul." Whether this were folly or fraud, the consequences that were likely to result did not escape the apprehension of persons who, though themselves affected strongly by the disease, still retained some command of reason. They began to doubt whether such trances were not the work of Satan; with the majority, however, they passed for effects of grace. Wesley, who believed and recorded them as such, inquired of the patients, when he came to Everton, concerning their state of feeling in these trances. The persons, who appear to have been all young women and girls, agreed " that when they went away, as they termed it, it was always at the time they were fullest of the love of God ; that it came upon them in a moment, without any previous notice, and took away all their senses and strength ; that there were some exceptions, but, generally, from that moment, they were in another world, knowing nothing of what was done or said by all that were round about them."* * I regret that Southey is acquainted only with the magnetic cases of Mesmer and his immediate followers, and not with the incompara- bly more interesting ones of Gmelin, Weinholt, Eschemmeyer, Wohl- fast, &c. — men whose acknowledged merits as naturalists and physi- cians, with their rank and unimpeached integrity, raise their testimony above suspicion, in point of reracity, at least, and of any ordinary de- lusion. The case Wesley saw is, in all its features, identical with that of the Khamerin, and with a dozen others in the seventh or ecstatic WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 175 He had now an opportunity of observing a case. Some persons were singing hymns in Berridge's house, about five in the afternoon, and presently Wesley was summoned by Berridge himself, with information that one of them, a girl of fifteen, was fallen into a trance. *' I went down imme- diately," says Mr. Wesley, " and found her sitting on a stool and leaning against the wall, with her eyes open and fixed upward. I made a motion, as if going to strike ; but they continued immovable. Her face showed an unspeak- able mixture of reverence and love, while silent tears stole down her cheek. Her lips were a little open, and some- times moved, but not enough to cause any sound. I do not know whether I ever saw a human face look so beau- tiful. Sometimes it was covered with a smile, as from joy mixing with love and reverence ; but the tears fell still, though not so fast. Her pulse was quite regular. In about half-an-hour, I observed her countenance change into the form of fear, pity, and distress. Then she burst into a flood of tears, and cried out, ' Dear Lord ! they will be damned ! they 2vill all be damned !' But, in about five minutes, her smiles returned, and only love and joy appeared in her face. About half-an-hour after six I observed distress take place again, and, soon after, she wept bitterly, and cried, * Dear Lord, they will go to hell ! the world will go to hell !' Soon after she said, * Cry aloud! spare not!' and in a few mo- ments her look was composed again, and spoke a mixture of reverence, joy, and love. Then she said aloud, ' Give God the glory !' About seven her senses returned. I asked, * Where have you been ]' — * I have been with my Savior.' * In heaven, or on earth ]' — * I can not tell ; but I was in glo- ry !* *Why, then, did you cry]' — 'Not for myself, but for the world ; for I saw they were on the brink of hell.' * Whom did you desire to give the glory to God V — ' Minis- ters that cry aloud to the world ; else they will be proud ; and then God will leave them, and they will lose their own souls.' rade. The facts it would be now quite absurd to question ; but their irect relation to the magnetic treatment, as effect to cause, remains as doubtful as at the beginning. And these cases of the Methodists tend strongly to support the negative. And yet it is singular that, of the very many well educated men who have produced effects of this kind, or under whose treatment such phenomena have taken place, not one should have withstood the conviction of their having exerted a direct causative agency ; though several have earnestly recommended the sup- pression of the practice altogether, as rarely beneficial, and often inju- rious, nay, calamitous. — S. T. C. 176 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. With all his knowledge of the human heart (and few per- sons have had such opportunities of extensive and intimate observation), Wesley had not discovered that, when occa- sion is afforded for imposture of this kind, the propensity to it is a vice to which children and young persons are especially addicted. If there be any natural obliquity of mind, sufficient motives are found in the pride of deceiving their elders, and the pleasure which they feel in exercising the monkey-like instinct of imitation.* This is abundantly proved by the recorded tales of witchcraft in this country, in New England, and in Sweden ; and it is from subjects like this girl, whose acting Wesley beheld with reverential credulity, instead of reasonable suspicion, that the friars have made regular-bred saints, such as Rosa of Peru, and Catharine of Sienna. With regard to the bodily effects that ensued, whenever the spiritual influenza began, there could be no doubt of their reality ; but it had so much the appearance of an influenza, raging for a while, affecting those within its sphere, and then dying away, that Wesley could not be so fully satisfied concerning the divine and supernatural exciting cause, as he had been when first the disease manifested itself at Bristol, and as he still desired to be. " I have generally observed," said he, " more or less of these outward symptoms to attend the beginning of a general work of God. So it was in New England, Scot- land, Holland, Ireland, and many parts of England ; but, after a time, they gradually decrease, and the work goes on more quietly and silently. Those whom it pleases God to employ in his work ought to be quite passive in this re- spect : they should choose nothing, but leave entirely to him all the circumstances of his own work." Returning to Everton, about four months afterward, he found " a remarkable difference as to the manner of the work. None now were in trances, none cried out, none fell down, or were convulsed. Only some trembled ex- ceedingly ; a low murmur was heard, and many were re- freshed with the multitude of peace.'' The disease had spent itself, and the reflections which he makes upon this * This is a just and happy remark ; but, in cases like this of Wesley's, no one ever saw it who did not instantly see that it was an actual prod- uct of some strange state of the nervous system, utterly unimitable by volition. — S. T. C. ["Just" and "happy" the remark may be as an abstract truth, but in its connection in this place nothing could be more unjust and unhap- py, nor more unphilosophical. — Am. Ed."} WBliLEY I^^ MIDDLE AGE. 177 cliange show that others had begun to suspect its real na- ture, and that he himself was endeavoring to quiet his own Suspicions. " The danger wa^," says he, " to regard ex- traordinary circumstances too much — such as outcries, con- vulsions, visions, trances ; as if these were essential to the inward work, so that it could not go on without them. Perhaps the danger is, to regard them too little ; to con- delnn them altogether ; to imagine they had nothing of God in them, and were a hinderance to his work ; whereas the truth is, 1. God suddenly and strongly convinced many that they were lost sinners, the natural consequences whereof were sudden outcries, and strong bodily convul- sions. 2. To strengthen and encourage them that believ- ed, and to make his work more apparent, he favored sev- eral of them with divine dreams j others with trances and visions. 3. In some of these instances, after a time, nature mixed with giace. 4. Satan likewise mimicked this work of God, in order to discredit the whole work ; and yet it is not wise to give up this part, any more than to give up the whole. At first it was, doubtless, wholly from God : it is partly so at this day ; and He will enable us to discern how far, in every case, the work is pure, and when it mixes or degenerates. Let us even suppose that, in some few cases, there was a mixture of dissimulation ; that persons pretend- ed to see or feel what they did not, and imitated the cries or convulsive motions of those who were really ovei-power- ed by the Spirit of God ; yet even this should not make us either deny or undervalue the real work of the Spirit. The shadow is no disparagement of the substance, nor the coun- terfeit of the real diamond." His tone, perhaps, was thus moderated, because, by re- cording former extravagances of this kind in full triumph, he had laid himself open to attacks which he had not been able to repel. Warburton had censured these things with his strong sense and powers of indignant sarcasm ; and they had been exposed still more effectually by Bishop Laving- ton, of Exeter, in " A Comparison between the Enthusiasm of Methodists and of Papists." Here Wesley, who was armed and proof at other points, was vulnerable. He could advance plausible arguments, even for the least defensible of his doctrines ; and for his irregularities, some that were valid and incontestable. On that score he was justified by the positive good which Methodism had done, and was do- ing ; but here he stood convicted of a credulity discredit- 178 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. able to himself, and dangerous in its consequences ; tlie whole evil of scenes so disorderly, so scandalous, and so frightful, was distinctly seen by his opponents ; and, per- haps, they did not make a sufficient allowance for the phe- nomena of actual disease, and the manner in which, upon their first appearance, they were likely to affect a mind, heated as his had been at the commencement of his career. Id all his other controversies, Wesley preserved that ur- bane and gentle tone, which arose from the genuine be- nignity of his disposition and manners ; but he replied to Bishop Lavington with asperity : the attack had galled him; he could not but feel that his opponent stood upon the van- tage-ground; and, evading the main charge, he contented himself, in his reply,* with explaining away certain pass- ages, which were less obnoxious than they had been made to appear, and disproving some personal chargest which the bishop had repeated upon evidence that appeared, upon inquiry, not worthy of the credit he had given to it. But Wesley's resentments were never lasting : of this, a pass- age in his Journal, written a few years afterward, affords a pleasing proof Having attended service at Exeter Cathe- dral, he says, " I was well pleased to partake of the Lord's Supper with my old opponent, Bishop Lavington. Oh, may we sit down together in the kingdom of our Father !" He understood the happiness of his temper in this respect, and says of it, " I can not but stand amazed at the goodness of God. Others are most assaulted on the weak side of their soul; but with me it is quite otherwise. If I have any strength at all (and I have none but what I received), it is in forgiving injuries; and on this very side am I assault- * His Journal shows that he undertook the task with no alacrity. " I began writing a letter to the Comparer of the Papists and Method- ists. Heavy work; such as I should never choose; but sometimes it must be done. Well might the ancient say, ' God made practical divini- ty necessary; the devil, controversial.' But it is necessary. We must resist the devil, or he will not flee from us." t On this point it is proper to state that he does justice to the bishop in his Journal. For when he notices that, calling upon the person who was named as the accuser, she told him readily and repeatedly that she "never saw or knew any harm by him," he adds, " yet I am not sure that she has not said just the contrary to others. If so, she, not I, must give account for it to God." [And yet, despite of Robert South ey's praise, that book of Bishop Lavington is considered by almost every one that knows it (for it is passing into obscurity) as a monument of disgrace to its author. Wes- ley might well dislike the task of replying to it, for it was a strife that could afford neither pleasure nor applause. — Am. Ed. ] WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 179 ed more frequently than on any other. Yet leave me not here one hour to myself, or I shall betray myself and Thee!" Warburton, though a more powerful opponent, assailed him with less effect. Wesley replied to him in a respectful tone, and met the attack fairly. He entered upon the question of Grace, maintained his own view of that subject, and repeated, in the most explicit terms, his full belief, that the course which he and his coadjutors had taken was approved by miracles.* "I have seen with my eyes," said he, " and heard with my ears, several things which, to the best of my judgment, can not be accounted for by the ordinary course of natural causes, and which I therefore believe ought to be ascribed to the extraordinary interposi- tion of God. If any man choose to call these miracles, I reclaim not. I have weighed the preceding and following circumstances ; I have strove to account for them in a natural way ; but could not, without doing violence to my reason." He instanced the case of John Haydon, and the manner in which he himself, by an effort of faith, had thrown off a fever. The truth of these facts, he said, was supported by the testimony of competent witnesses, in as high a degree as any reasonable man could desire : the witnesses were many in number, and could not be deceived themselves ; for they saw with their own eyes, and heard with their own ears. He disclaimed for himself any part in these and the other cases, which might appear to re- dound to his praise : his will, or choice, or desire, he said, had no place in them ; and this, he argued, had always been the case with true miracles ; for God interposed his miraculous powers always according to his own sovereign will ; not according to the will of man ; neither of him by whom he wrought, nor of any other man whatsoever. So many such interpositions, he affirmed, had taken place, as .would soon leave no excuse either for denying or despising them, " We desire no favor,'' said he, " but the justice^ that diligent inquiry may be made concerning them. We are ready to name the persons on whom the power was shown, which belongeth to none but God (not one or two, * [If by the term " miracle" Mr. Southey means no more than an interposition of supernatural power, in the \vay of grace or providence, no friend of Mr. Wesley will deny the charge here made; but if any thing more is intended, the charge is denied, and proof more explicit than that given above demanded. — Am. Ed.'\ 180 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. or ten, or twelve, only) — to point out their places of abode ; and we engage they shall answer every pertinent question fairly and directly ; and, if required, shall give all their answers upon oath, before any who are empowered to receive them. It is our particular request, that the cir- cumstances which went before, which accompanied, and which followed after the facts under consideration, may be thoroughly examined, and punctually noted down. Let but this be done (and is it not highly needful it should, at least by those who would form an exact judgment 1) and we have no fear that any reasonable man should scruple to say, " This hath God wrought." It had never entered into Wesley's thoughts, when he thus appealed to what were called the outward signs, as certainly miraculous, that they were the manifestations of a violent and specific disease, produced by excessive ex- citement of the mind, communicable by sympathy, and highly contagious. We are yet far from understanding the whole power of the mind over the body ; nor, perhaps, will it ever be fully understood. It was very little regarded in Wesley's time : these phenomena therefore were con- sidered by the Methodists, and by those who beheld them, as wholly miraculous ; by all other persons, as mere ex- hibitions of imposture. Even Charles Wesley, when he discovered that much was voluntary, had no suspicion that the rest might be natural ; and John, in all cases where any thing supernatural was pretended, was, of all men, the most credulous. In the excesses at Everton he had, how- ever reluctantly, perceived something which savored of fraud ; and, a few years afterwai d, circumstances of much greater notoriety occurred, when, from the weakness of his mind, he encouraged at first a dangerous enthusiasm, which soon broke out into open madness. Among his lay preachers, there was a certain George Bell, who had formerly been a life-guardsman. Mr. Wes- ley published, as plainly miraculous, an account of an in- stantaneous cure wrought by this man : it was a surgical case,* and must therefore either have been miracle or * " Dec. 26, 1760. I made a particular inquiry into the case of Mary Special, a young woman then in Tottenham-court-road. She said, ' Four years since, I found much pain in my breasts, and afterward hard lumps. Four months ago my left breast broke, and kept running continually. Growing worse and worse, after some time I was recom- meaded to St. George's Hospital. I was let blood many times, and took hemlock thrice a-day ; but I was no better, the pain and the lumps WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 181 fraud. A judicious inquiry would have shown that Bell, who was not in a sane mind, had been a dupe in this busi- ness ; but Wesley contented himself with the patient's own relation, accredited, it without scruple, and recorded it in a tone of exultation. Bell was at that time crazy, and any doubt which he might have entertained of his own supernatural gifts, was removed by this apparent miracle, the truth of which was thus attested. Others who listened to him became as crazy as himself; and Wesley was per- suaded that, " being full of love," they were actually " fa- vored with extraordinary revelations and manifestations from God. But by this very thing," says he, " Satan be- guiled them from the simplicity that is in Christ. By insensible degrees, they were led to value these extraordi- nary gifts more than the ordinary grace of God ; and I could not convince them, that a grain of humble love was better than all these gifts put together." In the height of George Bell's extravagance, he attempted to restore a blind man to sight, touched his eyes with spit- tle, and pronounced the word Ephphatha. The ecclesias- tical authorities ought to have a power of sending such were the same, and both my breasts were quite hard, and black as soot ; when, yesterday se'nnight, I went to Mr. Owen's, where there was a meeting for prayer. Mr. Bell saw me and asked, Have you faith to be healed ? I said, yes. He prayed for me, and in a moment, all my pain was gone. But the next day I felt a little pain again : I clapped my bands on my breasts, and cried out. Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me whole ! It was gone ; and, from that hour I have had no pain, no soreness, no lumps or swelling, but both my breasts were per- fectly well, and I have been so ever«ince.' Now," says Mr. Wesley, " here are plain facts : 1. she was ill; 2. she is well; 3. she became so in a moment. Which of these can, with any modesty, be denied ?" It is not a little remarkable, that after Bell had become decidedly crazy, recovered his wits, forsaken the Methodists, and professed himself a thorough unbeliever, Mr. Wesley should still have believed this story, and have persisted in asking the same question, without suspecting any deceit in either party. The fraud lay in the woman, Bell being a thor- ough enthusiast at that time.* * la it ascertained that Wesley did not make inquiry at St. George's Hospital 1 Wesley publistied it immediately. It would be odd that neither physician, surgeon, apothecary, sister, or student should have come forward to undeceive the public, or Wesley at least. As to the fact itself, Southey's " must either or " is grounded on imperfect knowledge of the complaint here described. It was not a surgical (i. e., not medical) case, though one that by courtesy surgeons in London may take in hand. Nay, it is of that class which have been found most often and most influenced by stimulants of imagination, sudden acts of active and passive voli- tion, and (next akin to these) by regulated friction— touching, or breathing, and the Jike. Had the second case, that of the blind man, been amaurotic, or a case of dis- ordered function, not organic disease or defect, in all probability the enthusiastic sturdy life-guardsman would have cured it.— S. T. C. 182 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. persons to Bedlam, for the sake of religion and of decency, and for the general good ; but such madmen in England are suffered to go abroad, and bite whom they please with impunity. The failure of the blasphemous experiment neither undeceived him nor his believers ; and they ac- counted for it by saying, that the patient had not faith to be healed. Wesley had begun to suspect the sanity of these enthusiasts, because they had taken up a notion, from a text in the Revelations, that they should live forever. As, however, one of the most enthusiastic happened to go raving mad, and die, he thought the delusion would be checked ; as if a disease of the reason could be cured by the right exercise of the diseased faculty itself! Moreover, with their enthusiasm personal feelings were mixed up, of dislike toward him and his brother, arising from an impa- tience of their superiority ; and this feeling induced Max- field to stand forward as the leader of the innovators, though he was not the dupe of their delusions. Mr. Wes- ley desired the parties to meet him, that all misunderstand- ings might be removed. Maxfield alone refused to come. "Is this," said Wesley, "the first step toward a separation! Alas for the man, alas for the people I" It is said that no other event ever grieved him so deeply as the conduct of Maxfield ; for it at once impeached his judgment, and wounded him as an act of ingratitude. Maxfield was the first person whom he had consented to hear as a lay preacher, and the first whom he authorized to cooperate with him in that character : and so highly did he value him, that he had obtained ordination for him from the Bishop of Londonderry. This prelate was one of the clergy who encouraged Mr. Wesley in Ireland ; and when he performed the ceremony, he said to Maxfield, " Sir, I ordain you to assist that good man, that he may not work himself to death!" But of all the lessons which he learned from Wesley, it now appeared that that of insubordination was the one in which he was most perfect. The breach, however, was not immediate : some conces- sions were made by Maxfield ; and Wesley, after a while, addressed a letter to him and his associates, especially George Bell, telling them what he disliked in their doc- trines, spirit, and outward behavior. He objected to their teaching that man might be as perfect as an angel ; that he can be absolutely perfect ; that he can be infallible, or above being tempted; or, that the moment he is pure in WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 183 heart, he can not fall from it. To this, however, his own language had given occasion ; for the doctrine which he taught, of " a free, full, and present salvation, from all the guilt, all the power, and all the in-being of sin," differs but a hair's breadth from the tenet which he now justly con- demned. He objected to their saying, " that one saved from sin needs nothing more than looking to Jesus — needs not to hear or think of any thing else ; believe^ believe is enough ; that he needs no self-examination, no times of private prayer ; needs not mind little or outward things ; and that he can not be taught by any person who is not in the same state." He disliked, he said, " something that had the appearance of enthusiasm — overvaluing feelings and inward impressions ; mistaking the mere work of ima- gination for the voice of the Spirit ; expecting the end without the means ; and undervaluing reason, knowledge, and wisdom in general." He disliked " something that had the appearance of Antinomianism ; not magnifying the law, and making it honorable ; not enough valuing tender- ness of conscience, and exact watchfulness in order thereto ; and using faith rather as contradistinguished from holiness, than as productive of it." He blamed them for slighting any, the very least, rules of the Bands, or Society ; for the disorder and extravagances which they introduced in their public meetings ; and, above all, for the bitter and unchar- itable spirit which they manifested toward all who differed from them. And he bade them read this letter of mild reproof, calmly and impartially, before the Lord in prayer; so, he said, should the evil cease, and the good remain, and they would then be more than ever united to him. Wesley was not then aware of Maxfield's intention to set up for himself, and hardly yet suspected the insanity of Bell, his colleague. Upon hearing the latter hold forth, he believed that part of what he said was from God (so willing was Wesley to be deceived in such things !), and part from a heated imagination ; and seeing, he says, nothing dangerously wrong, he did not think it necessary to hinder him. The next trial, however, convinced him that Bell must not be suffered to pray at the Foundry : " the reproach of Christ," said he, " I am willing to bear, but not the reproach of enthusiasm, if I can help it." That nothing might be done hastily, he suffered him to speak, twice more; "but," says he, "it was worse and worse. He now spoke, as from God, what I knew God had not 184 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. spoken ; I therefore desired that he would come thither no more." The excommunication, indeed, could no longer be delayed,* for George Bell had commenced prophet, and proclaimed everywhere that the world was to be at an end on the 28th of February following. This, however, was the signal for separation : several hundreds of the Society in London threw up their tickets, and withdrew from their connection with Wesley, saying, " Blind John is not capable of teaching us — we will keep to Mr. Maxfield !" for Maxfield was the leader of the separatists; and Bell, notwithstanding his prophetic pretensions, appeared only as one of his followers. He, indeed, was at this time a downright honest madman. The part which Maxfield acted was more suspicious : he neither declared a belief or disbelief in the prediction ; but he took advantage of the prophet's popularity, to collect a flock among his be- lievers, and form an establishment for himself Often as the end of the world has been prophesied by madmen, such a prediction has never failed to excite con- siderable agitation. Wesley exerted himself to counteract the panic which had been raised ; and, on the day appoint- ed, he exposed, in a sermon, the utter absurdity of the sup- position that the world would be at an end that night. But he says that, notwithstanding all he could say, many were afraid to go to bed, and some wandered about the fields, being persuaded that, if the world did not end, at least London would be swallowed up by an earthquake. He had the prudence, before the day amved, to insert an ad- vertisement in the provincial newspapers, disclaiming all connection with, the prophet or the prophecy ; a precaution * Wesley was evidently conscious that he had delayed it too long-, and that he had lost credit, by being, or appearing to be, for a time, deceived by this madman. The apology which he makes is any thing but ingenuous. "Perhaps," he says, "reason (unenh"ghtened) makes me simple. If I knew less of human nature, I should be more apt to stumble at the weakness of it ; and if I had not too, by nature or by grace, some clearness of apprehension. It is owing to this (under God) that I never staggered at all at the reveries of George Bell. I saw in- stantly, from the beginning, and at the beginning, what was right, and what was wTong ; but I saw, withal, ' I have many things to speak, but ye can not bear them now.' Hence many imagine I was imposed upon, and applauded themselves on their own greater perspicuity, as they do at this day. But if you knew it, said his friend to Gregorio Lopez, why did you not tell me ? I answer with him, ' I do not speak all I know, but what I judge needful.' " [How is this disingenuous? — Am. Ed."] WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 185 which was of great service to poor George Story ; for, in the course of itinerating, he arrived at Darlington on the day appointed. The people in that neighborhood had been sorely frightened ; but fear had given place to indig- nation, and, in their wrath, they threatened to pull down the Methodist preaching-house, and bum the first preacher who should dare to show his face among them. Little as Story was of an enthusiast, he told the mistress of the house, if she would venture the house, he would venture himself ; and, upon producing the advertisement in the Newcastle paper, and reading it to the people, they were satisfied, and made no further disturbance. George Bell recovered his senses, to make a deplorable use of them : passing from one extreme to another, the ignorant enthu- siast became an ignorant infidel ; turned fanatic in politics, as he had done in religion ; and having gone through all the degrees of disaffection and disloyalty, died, at a great age, a radical reformer. This affair, if it made Wesley more cautious for a while, did not lessen his habitual credulity. His disposition to believe whatever he was told, however improbable the fact, or insufficient the evidence, was not confined to preternat- ural tales. He listened to every old woman's nostrum for a disease, and collected so many of them, that he thought himself qualified at last to commence practitioner in medi- cine. Accordingly, he announced in London his intention of giving physic to the poor, and they came for many years in great numbers, till the expense of distributing medicines to them was greater than the Society could support. At the same time, for the purpose of enabling people to cure themselves, he published his collection of receipts, under the title of " Primitive Physic ; or, an easy and natural Method of curing most Diseases." In his preface he showed, that the art of healing was originally founded on experiments, and so became traditional : inquiring men, in process of time, began to reason upon the facts which they knew, and formed theories of physic, which, when thus made theoretical, was soon converted into a mystery and a craft. Some lovers of mankind, however, had still from time to time endeavored to bring it back to its ancient footing, and make it, as it was at the beginning, a plain, intelligible thing ; professing to know nothing more than that certain maladies might be removed by certain medi- cines J and his mean hand, he said, had made a like at- 186 WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. tempt, in which he had only consulted experience, com- mon sense, and the common interest of mankind. The previous directions which he gave for preventing diseases, were in general judicious. He advised early- hours, regular exercise, plain diet, and temperance ; and he pointed out, not without effect, the physical benefits which resulted from a moral and religious life. " All vio- lent and sudden passions," he said, " dispose to, or actually throw people into, acute diseases. The slow and lasting passions, such as grief, and hopeless love, bring on chron- ical diseases. Till the passion which caused the disease is calmed, medicine is applied in vain. The love of God, as it is the sovereign remedy of all miseries, so, in particu- lar, it effectually prevents all the bodily disorders the pas- sions introduce, by keeping the passions themselves within due bounds ; and by the unspeakable joy, and perfect calm serenity and tranquillity it gives the mind, it becomes the most powerful of all the means of health and long life." In his directions to the sick, he recommends them to ** add to the rest (for it is not labor lost) that old unfashionable medicine, prayer ; and to have faith in God, who ' killeth and maketh alive, who bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth up.' " The book itself must have done great mischief, and probably may still continue so to do ; for it has been most extensively circulated,* and it evinces throughout a lamentable want of judgment, and a perilous rashness, advising sometimes means of ridiculous inefficacy in the most dangerous cases, and sometimes remedies so rude, that it would be marvelous if they did not destroy the patient. He believed, however, that he had cured himself of what was pronounced to be a confirmed con- sumption, and had every symptom of it, by his favorite * The current edition, which is now before me, is the twenty-eighth. The cold bath is prescribed for ague, just before the cold fit ; for pre- venting apoplexy ; for weak infants, every day, and for cancer. For films in the sight, the eyes are to be touched with lunar caustic every day; zibethum occidentale, dried slowly, and finely pulverized, is to be blown into them. For siphylis, an ounce of quicksilver every morn- ing ; and for the twisting of the intestines, quicksilver, ounce by ounce, to the amount of one, two, or three pounds ! Toa-sted cheese is recom- mended for a cut; and, for a rupture in children, " boil a spoonful of egg-shells, dried in an oven, and powered, in a pint of milk, and feed the child constantly with bread boiled in this milk !" [Wesley's medical book was bad enough in all conscience; but the reader should remember that Southey is an admirable painter — of cari- catures. — Am. Ed.'\ WESLEY IN MIDDLE AGE. 187 prescription for pleurisy, a plaster of brimstone and white of egg, spread upon brown paper. Upon applying this, the pain in his side, he says, was removed in a few minutes, the fever in half-an-hour ; and from that hour he began to recover strength. His death had been so fully expected, that Whitefield wrote him a farewell letter, in the most affectionate terms, and a consolatory one to his brother Charles. And he himself, not knowing, he says, how it might please God to dispose of him, and to prevent vile panegyric, wrote his own epitaph, in these words : HERE LIETH THE BODY OF JOHN WESLEY, A BRAND PLUCKED OUT OF THE BURNING : WHO DIED OF A CONSUMPTION, IN THE FIFTY-FIRST YEAR OF HIS AGE, NOT LEAVING, AFTER HIS DEBTS ARE PAID, TEN POUNDS BEHIND him; PRAYING GOD BE MERCIFUL TO ME AN UNPROFITABLE SERVANT ! ** He ordered that this (if any) inscription should be placed on his tombstone." CHAPTER XXV. PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. DEATH OF WHITE- FIELD. FINAL BREACH BETWEEN WESLEY AND THE CAL- VINISTS. Whitefield had not continued long at enmity with Wesley. He was sensible that he had given him great and just offense by publishing the story of the lots, and he acknowledged this, and asked his pardon. "Wesley's was a heart in which resentment never could strike root : the difference between them, therefore, as far as it was per- sonal, was made up ; but, upon the doctrines in dispute, they remained as widely separate as ever, and their re- spective followers were less charitable than themselves. Whitefield also had become a married man. He had determined upon this in America, and opened his inten- tions in a characteristic letter to the parents of the lady whom he was disposed to choose. He told them, that he found a mistress was necessary for the management of his increasing family at the Orphan House ; and it had there- fore been much impressed upon his heart that he should marry, in order to have a help meet for him in the work whereunto he was called. " This," he proceeded, " comes (like Abraham's servant to Rebekah's relations) to know whether you think your daughter, Miss E., is a proper person to engage in such an undertaking ] If so, whether you will be pleased to give me leave to propose marriage unto her ? You need not be afraid of sending me a refu- sal ; for, I bless God, if I know any thing of my own heart, I am free from that foolish passion which the world calls love. I write, only because I believe it is the will of God that I should alter my state ; but your denial will fully convince me, that your daughter is not the person appointed by God for me. But I have sometimes thought Miss E. would be my helpmate, for she has often been impressed upon my heart. After strong crying and tears at the Throne of Grace for direction, and after unspeakable PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. 180 trouble with my own heart, I write this. Be pleased to spread the letter before the Lord ; and if you think this motion to be of Him, be pleased to deliver the inclosed to your daughter. If not, say nothing ; only let me know you disapprove of it, and that shall satisfy your obliged friend and servant in Christ." The letter to the lady was writ- ten in the same temper. It invited her to partake of a way of life which nothing but devotion and enthusiasm like his could render endurable. He told her he had great reason to believe it was the divine will that he should alter his condition, and had often thought she was the person appointed for him ; but he should still wait on the Lord for direction, and heartily entreat him, that if this motion were not of Him, it might come to naught. " I much like," said he, " the manner of Isaac's marrying with Rebekah ; and think no marriage can succeed well, unless both parties concerned are like-minded with Tobias and his wife. I make no great profession to you, because I believe you think me sincere. The passionate expressions which car- nal courtiers use, I think, ought to be avoided by those that would marry in the Lord. I can only promise, by the help of God, to keep my matrimonial vow, and to do what I can toward helping you forward in the great work of your salvation. If you think marriage will be any way prejudicial to your better part, be so kind as to send me a denial." The Moravian arrangement for pairing their members would have been very convenient for a person of this temper. The reply which he received informed him that the lady was in a seeking state only, and surely, he said, that would not do ; he must have one that was full of faith and the Holy Ghost. Such a one he thought he had found in a widow at Abergavenny, by name James, who was between thirty and forty, and, by his own account, neither rich nor beautiful, but having once been gay, was now a despised follower of the Lamb." He spoke of his marriage in lan- guage which would seem profane, unless large allowances were made for the indiscreet and offensive phraseology of those who call themselves religious professors. The suc- cess of his preaching appears at this time to have intoxi- cated him ; he fancied that something like a gift of prophe- cy had been imparted to him ; and, when his wife became pregnant, he announced that the child would be a boy, and become a preacher of the Gospel. It proved a boy, and 190 PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. the father publicly baptized him in the Tabernacle, and, in the presence of a crowded congregation, solemnly devoted him to the service of God. At the end of four months the child died ; and Whitefield then acknowledged that he had been under a delusion : " Satan," he said, had been per- mitted to give him some wrong impressions, whereby he had misapplied several texts of Scripture." The lesson was severe, but not in vain, for it saved him from any fu- ture extravagances of that kind. His marriage was not a happy one ;* and the death of his wife is said, by one of his friends, to have " set his mind much at liberty." It is asserted that she did not behave in all respects as she ought; but it is admitted that their disagreement was increased by some persons who made pretensions to more holiness than they possessed. Whitefield was irritable, and impatient of contradiction ; and, even if his temper had been as hap- pily constituted as Wesley's, his habits of life must have made him, like Wesley, a most uncomfortable husband. His popularity, however, was greatly on the increase. So great, indeed, was his confidence in his powers over the rudest of mankind, that he ventured upon preaching to the rabble in Moorfields, during the Whitsun holydays, when, as he said, Satan's children kept up their annual rendezvous there. This was a sort of pitched battle with Satan, and Whitefield displayed some generalship upon the occasion. He took the field betimes, with a large congregation of " praying people" to attend him, and began at six in the morning, before the enemy had mustered in strength. Not above ten thousand persons were assembled, waiting for the sports ; and, having nothing else to do, they, for mere pastime, presently flocked round his field-pulpit. " Glad was I to find," says he, that I had for once, as it were, got the start of the devil." Encouraged by the success of his morning preaching, he ventured there again at noon, when, in his own words, " the fields, the whole fields, seem- ed, in a bad sense of the word, all white, ready, not for the Redeemer's, but Beelzebub's harvest. All his agents were in full motion ; drummers, trumpeters, merry-andrews, masters of puppet-shows, exhibitors of wild beasts, players, * It is not likely to be so, as may be judged from what he says to one of his married friends: " I hope you are not nimis uxorius. Take heed, my dear B., take heed ! Time is short. It remains that those who have wives, be as though they had none. Let nothing intercept or interrupt your communion with the Bridegroom of the Church." PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. 191 &c., &c., all busy in entertaining their respective auditories." He estimated the crowd to consist of from twenty to thirty thousand persons ; and thinking that, like St. Paul, he should now, in a metaphorical sense, be called to fight with wild beasts, he took for his text, ** Great is Diana of the Ephe- sians." " You may easily guess," says he, " that there was some noise among the craftsmen, and that I was honored with having a few stones, dirt, rotten eggs, and pieces of dead cats thrown at me, while engaged in calling them from their favorite but lying vanities. My soul was, indeed, among lions ; but far the greatest part of my congregation, which was very large, seemed for a while to be turned into lambs." He then gave notice that he would preach again at six in the evening. " I came," he says, I saw — but what ] Thousands and thousands more than before, if pos- sible, still more deeply engaged in their unhappy diver- sions, but some thousands among them waiting as earnest- ly to hear the Gospel. This Satan could not brook. One of his choicest servants was exhibiting, trumpeting, on a large stage ; but, as soon as the people saw me in ray black robes, and my pulpit, I think all, to a man, left him and ran to me. For a while I was enabled to lift up my voice like a trumpet, and many heard the joyful sound. God's peo- ple kept praying, and the enemy's agents made a kind of roaring at some distance from our camp. At length they approached nearer, and the raerry-andrew (attended by others, who complained that they had taken many pounds less that day, on account of my preaching) got upon a man's shoulders, and advancing near the pulpit, attempted to slash me with a long, heavy whip several times, but always, with the violence of his motion, tumbled down." Soon afterward they got a recruiting sergeant, with his drums, fifes, and followers, to pass through the congrega- tion. But Whitefield, by his tactics, baffled this manceu- ver ; he ordered them to make way for the king's officers ; the ranks opened and, when the party had marched through, closed again. When the uproar became, as it sometimes did, such as to overpower his single voice, he called the voices of all his people to his aid, and began singing ; and thus, what with singing, praying, and preaching, he con- tinued, by his own account, three hours upon the ground, till the darkness made it time to break up. So great was the impression which this wonderful man produced in this extraordinary scene, that more than a thousand notes were 192 PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. handed up to him from persons who, as the phrase is, were brought under concern by his preaching that day, and three hundred and fifty persons joined his congregation. On the Tuesday, he removed to Mary-le-bone fields, a place of similar resort. Here a Quaker had prepared a very high pulpit for him, but not having fixed the supports well in the ground, the preacher found himself in some jeopardy, especially when the mob endeavored to push the circle of his friends against it, and so to throw it down. But he had a narrower escape after he had descended \ *' for as I was passing," says he, " from the pulpit to the coach, I felt my wig and hat to be almost off : I turned about, and observed a sword just touching my temples. A young rake, as I afterward found, was determined to stab me ; but a gentleman, seeing the sword thrusting near me, struck it up with his cane, and so the destined victim prov- identially escaped." The man who made this atrocious attempt, probably in a fit of drunken fury, was seized by the people, and would have been handled as severely as he deserved, if one of Whitefield's friends had not shelter- ed him. The following day Whitefield returned to the attack in Moorfields : and here he gave a striking example of that ready talent which turns every thing to its purpose. A merry-andrew, finding that no common acts of buffoon- ery were of any avail, got into a tree, near the pulpit, and, as much, perhaps, in despite as in insult, exposed his bare posteriors to the preacher, in the sight of all the people. The more brutal mob applauded him with loud laughter, while decent persons were abashed ; and Whitefield him- self was for a moment confounded ; but, instantly recover- ing himself, he appealed to all, since now they had such a spectacle before them, whether he had wronged human nature in saying, with Bishop Hall, that man, when left to himself, is half a fiend and half a brute ; or, in calling him, with William Law, a motley mixture of the beast and devil! The appeal was not lost upon the crowd, whatever it might be upon the wretch by whom it was occasioned. A cir- cumstance at these adventurous preachings is mentioned, which affected Whitefield himself, and must have produced considerable effect upon others : — several children, of both sexes, used to sit round him, on the pulpit, while he preach- ed, for the purpose of handing to him the notes whicli were delivered by persons upon whom his exhortations had act- ed as he 4esired. Th^se poor children were exjjosed to PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. 193 all the missiles with which he was assailed : however much they were terrified or hurt, they never shrunk; "but, on the contrary," says he, "every time I was struck, they turn- ed up their little weeping eyes and seemed to wish they could receive the blows for me." Shortly after his separation from Wesley, some Calvinist dissenters built a large shed for him, near the Foundry, upon a piece of ground which was lent for the purpose, till he should return to America. From the temporary nature of the structure, they called it a Tabernacle, in allusion to the movable place of worship of the Israelites, during llieir journey in the wilderness ; and the name beirjg in puritan- ical taste, became the designation of all the chapels of the Calvinistic Methodists. In this place Whitefield was as- sisted by Cennick and others, who sided with him at the division ; and he employed lay preachers with less reluc- tance than Wesley had done ; because the liking which he had acquired in America for the old Puritans had in some degree alienated his feelings from the Church, and his pre- destinariau opinions brought him in contact with the Dis- senters. But Whitefield had neither the ambition of found- ing a separate community, nor the talent for it ; he would have contented himself with being the founder of the Or- phan House at Savannah, and with the effect which he pro- duced as a roving preacher; and Calvinistic Methodism, perhaps, might never have been embodied into a separate sect, if it had not found a patroness in Selina, Countess of Huntingdon. This noble and elect lady," as her followers have called her, was daughter of Wasliington, Earl of Ferrers, and widow of Theophilus, Earl of Huntingdon. There was a decided insanity in her family. Her sisters-in-law, Lady Betty and Lady Margaret Hastings, were of a religious temper: the former had been the patroness of the first Methodists at Oxford ; the latter had become a disciple, and at length married Wesley's old pupil and fellow-mis- sionary, Ingham. Lady Margaret communicated her opin- ions to the countess : the Wesleys were called in to her; after a dangerous illness, which had been terminated by the new birth ; and her husband's tutor. Bishop Benson, who was sent for afterward, in hopes that he might restore her to a saner sense of devotion, found all his arguments ineffectual : instead of receiving instructions from him, she was disposed to be the teacher, quoted the Homilies against roL. II. — I 194 PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. him, insisted upon her own interpretation of the Articles, and attacked him upon the awful responsibility of his sta- tion. All this is said to have iiritated. him: the emotion which he must needs have felt, might have been more truly, as well as more charitably, interpreted : and when he left her, he lamented that he had ever laid his hands upon George Whitefield. " My lord," she replied, " mark my words ! when you come upon your dying bed, that will be one of the few ordinations you will reflect upon with complacence." " During the earl's life she restrained herself, in deference to his wishes ; but, becoming mistress of herself, and of a liberal income, at his death, she took a more decided and public part, and, had means permitted, would have done as much for Methodism as the Countess Matilda did for the Papacy. Upon Whitefield's return from America, in 1748, he was invited to her house at Chelsea, as soon as he landed. And after he had officiated there twice, she wrote to him, inviting him again, that some of the nobility might hear him. " Blessed be God," he says, in his reply, " that the rich and great begin to have a hearing ear : I think it is a good, sign that our Lord intends to give, to some at least, an obedient heart. How wonderfully does our Redeemer deal with souls ! If they will hear the Gospel only under a ceiled roof, ministers shall be sent to them there ; if only in a church or a field, they shall have it there. A word in the lesson, when I was last with your ladyship, struck me — Paul preached privately to those that were of reputation. This must be the way, I presume, of dealing with the nobility, who yet know not the Lord." This is characteristic ; and his answer to a second note, respecting the time, is still more so ; Ever since the reading your ladyship's condescending letter, ray soul has been overpowered with His presence who is all in all. When your ladyship styled me your friend, I was amazed at your condescension; but when I thought that Jesus was my friend, it quite overcame me, and made me to lie pros- trate before him, crying, Why me? why me'? I just now rose from the ground, after praying the Lord of all lords to water your soul, honored madam, every moment. As there seems to be a door opening for the nobility to hear the Gospel, I will defer my journey, and, God willing, pi-each at your ladyship's. Oh that God may be with me, and make me humble 1 I am ashamed to think your lady-. TROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. 195 ship will admit me under your roof; much more am I amazed that the Lord Jesus will make use of such a crea- ture as I am ; quite astonished at your ladyship's conde- scension, and the unmerited superabounding grace and goodness of Him who has loved me, and given Himself for me." Wesley would not have written in this strain, which, for its servile adulation, and its canting vanity, might well provoke disgust and indignation, were not the real genius and piety of the writer beyond all doubt. Such, however, as the language is, it was natural in Whitefield, and not ill suited for the person to whom it was addressed. Lord Chesterfield and Bolingbroke were among his auditors at Chelsea : the couutess had done well in invi- ting those persons who stood most in need of repentance. The former complimented the preacher with his usual courtliness ; the latter is said to have been much moved at the discourse : he invited Whitefield to visit him, and seems to have endeavored to pass from infidelity to Cal- vinism, if he could. Lady Huntingdon, flattered, perhaps, by the applause which was bestowed upon the performance, appointed Whitefield one of her chaplains. He, at this time, writing to Mr. Wesley, says, " What have you thought about a union 1 I am afraid an external one is impracti- cable. I find, by your sermons, that we differ in princi- ples more than I thought, and I believe we are upon two different plans. My attachment to America will not per- mit me to abide very long in England ; consequently I should but weave a Penelope's web if I formed societies ; and, if I should form them, I have not proper assistants to take care of them. I intend, therefore, to go about preach- ing the Gospel to every creature." In saying that he had ** no party to be at the head of," and that, through God's grace, he would have none, Whitefield only disclaimed the desire of placing himself in a situation which he was not competent to fill : at this very time he was sufficiently willing that a party should be formed, of which he might be the honorary head, while the management was in other hands : for he told the elect lady that a leader was want- ing ; and that that honor had been put on her ladyship by the great Head of the Church — an honor which had been conferred on few, but which was an earnest of what she was to receive, before men and angels, when time should be no more. That honor Lady Huntingdon accepted. She built chapels in various places, which were called 196 PROGRESS OF CALVINISTIC METHODISM. liers, and procured Calvinistic clergymen to officiate in them. After a time, a sufficient supply of ordained minis- ters could not be found, and some began to draw back, when they perceived that the course of action in which they were engaged tended manifestly to schism. This, however, did not deter her ladyship from proceeding : she followed the example of Mr. Wesley, and emph)yed lay- men without scruple ; and as the chapels were called Lady Huntingdon's chapels, the persons who officiated were called Lady Huntingdon's preachers. At length she set up a seminary for such preachers, at Trevecca,* in South Wales; and this was called Lady Huntingdon's College, and the Calvinist Methodists went by the name of Lady Huntingdon's connection. The terms of admission were, that the students should be truly converted to God, and resolved to dedicate themselves to his service. During three years they were to be boarded and instructed gratui- tously, at her ladyship's cost, and supplied every year with a suit of clothes : at the end of that time they were either to take orders, or enter the ministry among dissenters of any denomination. Sincere devotee as the countess was, she retained much of the pride of birth. For this reason Whitefield, who talked of her amazing condescension in patronizing him, would have been more acceptable to her than Wesley, even if he had not obtained a preference in her esteem because of his Calvinism; and perhaps this disposition inclined her, unconsciously, to favor a doctrine which makes a privileged order of souls. Wesley, therefore, who neither wanted, nor would have admitted, patron or patroness to be the temporal head of the societies which he had formed, and was as little likely to act a subordinate part under Lady Huntingdon as under Count Zinzendorf, seems never to have been cordially liked by her, and gradually grew into disfavor. The reconciliation with Whitefield was, perhaps, produced more by a regard to appearances on both sides, than by any feeling on either. Such a wound as had been made in their friendship always leaves a scar, however well it may have healed. They in- terchanged letters, not very frequently ; and they preached occasionally in each other's pulpits ; but there was no cor- dial intercourse, no hearty cooperation. Whitefield saw, and disapproved, in Wesley, that ambition of which the * [See Appendix, Note XXlII.—>4»B.^;vA7MV yevETj Toi^Se koL dvdptiv. What if the generation of men be exactly parallel with the Wesley's state of doubt. 229 generation of leaves — if the earth drop its successive in- habitants just as the tree drops its leaves 1 What if that saying of a great man be really true, Post mortem nihil est, ct ipsa mors nihil, Death is nothing, and nothing is after death. How am I sure that this is not the case ] that I have not ' followed cunningly devised fables 1'* And I have pursued the thought till there was no spirit in me, and I was ready to choose strangling rather than life."t On the other hand, there could not be a more dangerous counselor for persons with a certain tendency to derange- ment, for he seems always to have delighted to believe ex- traordinary things which he ought to have doubted, and to have encouraged sallies of enthusiasm which he ought to have repressed. Thus, speaking of a lady who exhibited before him her gift of extempore prayer, he says, Such a prayer I never heard before ; it was perfectly an original ; odd and unconnected, made up of disjointed fragments, and yet like a flame of fire : every sentence went through my heart, and, I believe, the heart of every one present. For many months I have found nothing like it. It was good for me to be here." And again, after a second performance, he reasons upon the case : " Is not this an instance of ten thousand, of God's choosing the foolish things of the world to confound the wise '? Here is one that has only a weak natural understanding, but an impetuosity of temper bor- dering upon madness. And hence both her sentiments are ♦ I too (but indeed what mind of any common sensibility has not ?) have been whirled round in the same eddy ; but I used to find relief in the reflection, that were it so, I should not be putting the question, or capable of doubting it sufficiently even to be conscious of it. I should drop as the leaves ; for my impulse to ask respecting it must have a source, and, according to the hypothesis, this source must be God.— S. T. C. t Wesley introduced a remarkable passage of this kind in one of his sermons. " The devil," said he, " once infused into my mind a tempta- tion, that perhaps I did not believe what I was preaching. ' Well then,' said I, ' I will preach it till I do.' But, the devil suggested, ' What if it should not be true V ' Still,' I replied, ' I will preach it, because, whether true or not, it must be pleasing to God, by preparing men better for another world.' ' But what if there should be no other world ?' rejoined the- enemy. *I will go on preaching it,' said I, ' be- cause it is the way to make them better and happier in this.' " This passage is not in Mr. Wesley's works ; but I relate it, with perfect con- fidence, on the authority of the late Dr. Estlin, of Bristol, who heard Iiim preach the sermon, and whom I will not thus cursorily mention without an expression of respectful remembrance. 230 WESLEY S CREDULITY. confused, and her expressions odd and indigested ; and yet, notwithstanding this, more of the real power of God attends these uncouth expressions, than the sensible dis- courses of even good men, who have twenty times her un- derstanding." The wonder would have ceased if he had reflected upon the state of mind in the recipients. Here he was the dupe of his own devout emotions, which, in a certain mood, might as well have been excited by the music of an organ, or the warbling of a sky-lark. But he was sometimes imposed upon by relations which were worthy to have figured in the Acta Sanctorum. One of his preachers pretended to go through the whole ser- vice of the meeting in his sleep — exhorting, singing, and preaching, and even discoursing with a clergyman who came in and reasoned with him during his exhibition, and affecting in the morning to know nothing of what he had done during the night. And Wesley could believe this, and ask seriously by what principle of philosophy it was to be explained !* He believed also that a young woman, hav- * If Mr. Southey had never heard of persons walking in sleep, and performing the regular business of life, thereby discovering a continu- ous and correct perception of place and circumstances, a fact confirmed by numerous examples, this phenomenon too, equally puzzling to phi- losophy, would have been referred to the " Acta Sanctorum." But is there any thing in sleep-talking, in itself more incredible, than in sleep- walking ? In a regular discourse pronounced in sleep, which supposes a connected train of thought, than in performing a regular course of actions, which also implies, beside such connection of the thoughts, a mysterious, and often an exact perception of an outward scene, though in sleep ? Yet in this superficial and dogmatic way of determining a subject does Mr. Southey pronounce the " preacher" an impostor. That preacher was Mr. Catlow, which is every thing necessary to be said to those who knew him, to rebut Mr. Southey's calumny, and to defend Mr. Wesley, in this instance, at least, from the charge of a "voracious credulity." He separated fi-om Mr. Wesley from a differ- ence of opinion : but his plain, straightforward integrity was such, that he was usually designated by Mr. Wesley, after his separation, " honest Jonathan Catlow." The Rev. Jonathan Edmondson, of Birmingham, a most respectable man, a nephew of Mr. Catlow's, has recently informed me, that this peculiarity of his relative was well known in the family ; and if Mr. Southey wishes more information on the case, I refer him also to Mr. Catlow, his son, master of an Academy at Mansfield, in Not- tinghamshire, and who may be known either by Mr. Southey, or by his quondam friends as a Unitarian minister." If Mr. Southey has no better proofs of Mr. Wesley's credulity to offer, he must go a second time over the Magazine and Journals in quest of other instances. Let him, however, be careful to ascertain the character of every pei'son who may be mentioned before he holds them up as pretenders and impos- tors. — Rev. R. Watson-.] Wesley's credulity. 231 ing received a strong impulse to call sinners to repentance, was inwardly told, that if she would not do it willingly, she should do it whether she would or not : that from that time she became subject to fits, in which she always imagined herself to be preaching ; and that having cried out at last, " Lord, I will obey thee, I will call sinners to repentance," and begun to preach in consequence, the fits left her. In the history of this remarkable man, nothing is more re- markable than his voracious credulity. He accredited and repeated stories of apparitions, and witchcraft, and posses- sion, so silly, as well as monstrous, that they might have nauseated the coarsest appetite for wonder ; this, too, when the belief on his part was purely gratuitous, and no motive can be assigned for it, except the pleasure of believing. The state of mind is more intelligible which made him as- cribe a supernatural importance to the incidents that befel him, whether merely accidental or produced by any effort of his own. Strong fancy, and strong prepossessions, may explain this, without asciibing too much to the sense of his own importance. If he escaped from storms at sea, it ap- peared to him that the tempest abated, and the waves fell, because his prayers were heard. If he was endangered in traveling, he was persuaded that angels, both evil and good, had a large share in the transaction. ** The old murder- er," he says, "is restrained fi-om hurting me, but he has power over my horses." A panic seized the people, in a crowded meeting, while he was preaching upon the slave- trade : it could not be accounted for, he thought, without supposing some preternatural influence : ** Satan fought, lest his kingdom should be delivered up." If, in riding over the mountains in Westmoreland, he sees rain behind him and before, and yet escapes between the showers, the natural circumstance appears to him to be an especial inter- ference in his favor. Preaching in the open air, he is chilled, and the sun suddenly comes forth to warm him : the heat becomes too powerful, and forthwith a cloud is interposed. So, too, at Durham, when the sun shone with such force upon his head, that he was scarcely able to speak, '* I paused a little," he says, " and desired God would provide me a covering, if it was for his glory. In a moment it was done ; a cloud covered the sun, which troubled me no more. Ought voluntary humility to con- ceal this palpable proof, that God still heareth the prayer At another time the sun, while he was officiating, shone full 232 Wesley's credulity. in his face, but it was no inconvenience ; nor were his eyes more dazzled than if it had been under the earth. Labor- ing under indisposition, when he was about to administer the sacrament, the thought, he says, came into his mind, *' Why should he not apply to God at the beginning, rather than the end of an illness V He did so, and found imme- diate relief. By an effort of faith, he could rid himself of the toothache : and more than once, when his horse fell lame, and there was no other remedy, the same application was found effectual. " Some," he observes, *' will esteem this a most notable instance of enthusiasm : be it so or not, I aver the plain fact." This was Wesley's peculiar weakness, and he retained it to the last. Time and experience taught him to correct some of his opinions, and to moderate others, but this was rooted in his nature. In the year 1780, he began to pub- lish the Arminian Magazine, for the double purpose of maintaining and defending those doctrines which were re- viled with such abominable scurrility by the Calvinists, in their monthly journal,* and of supplying his followers, who were not in the habit of reading much, with an entertaining and useful miscellany. Both purposes were well answer- ed : but having this means at his command, he indulged ♦ In the preface to the first volume he says, " Amid the multitude of magazines which now swarm in the world, there was one, a few years ago, termed The Christian Magazine, which was of great use to mankind, and did honor to the publishers ; but it was soon discontin- ued, to the regret of many serious and sensible persons. In the room of it started up a miscreated phantom, called The Spiritual Magazine ; and not long after it, its twin sister, oddly called The Gospel Mag- azine. Both of these are intended to show that God is not loving to every man ; that his mercy is not over all his works ; and, conse- quently, that Christ did not die for us all, but for one in ten, for the elect only. " This comfortable doctrine, the sum of which, proposed in plain English, is, God, before the foundation of the world, absolutely and irrevocably decreed, that ' some men shall be saved, do what they will, and the rest damned, do what they can,' has, by these tracts, been spread throughout the land with the utmost diligence. And theee champions of it have, from the beginning, proceeded in a manner worthy of their cause. They have paid no more regard to good-nature, decency, or good manners, than to reason or truth : all these they set utterly at defiance. Without any deviation from their plan, they have defended their dear decrees, with arguments worthy of Bedlam, and with language worthy of Billingsgate." These were the first religious journals which were published in Eng- land. Since that time every denominatirn of dissenters, down to the most insignificant subdivisions of schism, has had its magazine. Wesley's credulity. 233 his indiscriminate credulity, and inserted, without scruple, and without reflection, any marvelous tale that came to his hands.* ♦ [" Mr. Wesley's belief in these visitations is no proof of a peculiar credulousness of mind. On this he thought with all, except the ancient Atheists and Sadducees, modern infidels, and a few others, who, while in this point they agree with infidels, most inconsistently profess faith in the revelations of the Scriptures. Mr. Southey himself can not attack Mr. Wesley on the general principle, since he gives credit to the ac- count of the disturbances at Epworth, as preternaturally produced, and thinks that some dreams are the results of more than natural agency. " How then does the author prove the * voracity and extravagance' of Mr. Wesley's credulity ? Mr. Southey believes in one ghost-story ; Mr. Wesley might believe in twenty, or a hundred. Mr. Southey be- lieves in a few preternatural dreams, say some four or five ; Mr. Wes- ley may have believed in twice the number. This, however, proves nothing ; for credulity is not to be measured by the number of state- ments which a person believes, but by the evidence on which he be- lieves them. To have made out his case, Mr. Southey should have shown that the stories which he presumes Mr. Wesley to have credited, stood on insufficient testimony. He has not touched this point ; but he deems them ' silly and monstrous ;' that is, he judges of them a priori, and thus reaches his conclusion. He did not, however, reflect, that his own faith in ghosts and dreams, as far as it goes, will be deemed as silly and monstrous by all his brother philosophers, as the faith which goes beyond it. Their reasoning concludes as fully against what he credits, as against what Mr. Wesley credited; and on the same ground, a mere opinion of what is reasonable and fitting, they have the right to turn his censures against himself, and to conclude his credulity 'voracious,' and his mind disposed to superstition." — Rev. R. Watson.] CHAPTER XXVII. METHODISM IN AMERICA. WESLEY's POLITICAL CONDUCT. A LITTLE modification might have rendered Methodism a most useful auxiliary to the English Church. But if some such auxiliary power was needed in this country, much more was it necessary in British America, where the scattered state of the population was as little favorable to the interests of religion as of government. In the New-England States, the Puritans had estab- lished a dismal tyranny of the priesthood : time and cir- cumstances had mitigated it ; and ecclesiastical discipline, in those provinces, seems nearly to have reached its desi- rable mean about the middle of the eighteenth century : the elders no longer exercised an impertiaent and vexatious control over their countrymen : they retained, however, a wholesome influence ; the means of religious instruction were carefully provided, and the people were well trained up in regular and pious habits. Too little attention had been paid to this point in the other States : indeed it may be said, that the mother country, in this respect, had gross- ly neglected one of its first and most important duties toward the colonies.* There were many parts in the Southern States, of which the frightful picture given of them by Seeker, when Bishop of Oxford, was not over- * Franklin gives a curious anecdote upon this subject, in one of his letters. " The reverend commissary Blair, who projected the college in the province of Virginia, and was in England to sohcit benefactions and a charter, relates that the queen (Mary), in the king's absence, having ordered the attorney-general (Seymour) to draw up the charter which was to be given, with £2000 in money, he opposed the grant, saying that the nation was engaged in an expensive war, that the money was wanted for better purposes, and he did not see the least occasion for a college in Virginia. Blair represented to him, that its intention was to educate and qualify young men to be ministers of the Gospel, much wanted there ; and begged 5lr. Attorney would consider that the people of Virginia had souls to be saved, as well as the people of England. Souls! said he, damn your souls! Make tobacco!^' — Correspondeiice, vol. i., p. 158. METHODISM IN AMERICA. 235 charged. " The first European inhabitants," said that prelate, " too many of them carried but little sense of Christianity abroad with them. A great part of the rest suffered it to wear out gradually, and their children grew, of course, to have yet less than they, till, in some countries, there were scarce any footsteps of it left beyond the mere name. No teacher was known, no religious assembly was held ; the sacrament of baptism not administered for near twenty years together, nor that of the Lord's Supper for near sixty, among many thousands of people, who did not deny the obligation of these duties, but lived, nevertheless, in a stupid neglect of them." To remedy this, the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel sent out missionaries from time to time ; but, misdirecting their exertions, for want of proper inquiry, or proper information, they em- ployed most of the few laborers whom they could find in the States where they were least wanted, and in places where they did little more than interfere with what was the established system. Whitefield had contented himself with the immediate impression which he produced. The person who first began to organize Methodism in America was an Irish- man, by name Philip Embury, who had been a local preacher in his own country. Having removed to New York, he collected a few hearers, first in his own house, and when their number increased, in a large room, which they rented for the purpose. Captain Webb happened at this time to be in America. This officer, who had lost an eye in the battle of Quebec, had been converted, not long after that event, by Mr. Wesley's preaching at Bristol, and had tried his own talents as a preacher at Bath, when some accident prevented the itinerant from arriving, whom the congregation had assembled to hear. Webb, hearing of Embury's beginning, paid him a visit from Albany, where he then held the appointment of barrack-master, preached in his uniform, attracted auditors by the novelty of such an exhibition, and made proselytes by his zeal. A regular society was formed in the year 1768, and they resolved to build a preaching-house. Wesley's attention had already been invited to America. He met with a Swedish chaplain, who had spent several years in Pennsylvania, and who entreated that he would send out preachers to help him, representing what multi- tudes in that country were as sheep without a shepherd. 236 METHODISM IN AMERICA. Soon afterward, Captain Webb and his associates wrote to Mr. Wesley, informing him that a beginning had been made, and requesting that he would, at the ensuing Con- ference, appoint some persons to come over, and prosecute the work which was so providentially begun. About the same time thei e came a letter from a certain Thomas Bell, at Charlestown, saying, " Mr. Wesley says, the first mes- sage of the preachers is to the lost sheep of England. And are there none in America ] They have strayed from England into the wild woods here, and they are run- ning wild after this world. They are drinking their wine in bowls, and are jumping and dancing, and serving the devil, in the groves, and under the green trees. And are not these lost sheep 1 And will none of the preachers come here ] Where is Mr. Brownfield ] Where is John Pawson ] Where is Nicholas Manners ] Are they living, and will they not come V Pawson would not go ; because, he said, he did not see that it could be his duty to leave his parents, who were then on the brink of the grave. He followed his heart in this, and was right. Pawson, indeed, was in his proper sphere : the fire of enthusiasm in him had settled into a steady vital heat, and there were younger men for the work, Richard Boardman and Joseph Pillmoor volun- teered, at the next Conference, for the service ; and as the New York Methodists had contracted a debt by their building, the Connection sent them fifty pounds by these preachers, as a token of brotherly love. They landed at Philadelphia, where Captain Webb had already formed a society of about a hundred members. Pillmoor proceeded to Maryland and Virginia, Boardman to New York : both sent home flattering accounts of their success, and of the prospect before them ; so that Wesley himself began to think of following them : " but," said he, " the way is not plain ; I wait till Providence shall speak more clearly, on one side or the other." In 1771, he says, "My call to America is not yet clear. I have no business there, as long as they can do without me : at present I am a debtor to the people of England and Ireland, and especially to them that believe." That year, therefore, he sent over Richard Wright and Francis Asbury, the latter of whom proved not inferior to himself in zeal, activity, and perse- verance. Asbury perceived that his ministry was more needed in the villages and scattered plantations than in Wesley's political conduct. 237 large towns ; and he therefore devoted himself to country service. In 1773, Thomas Rankin and George Shadford were sent to assist their brethren : by this time they had raised a few recruits among the Americans ; and holding a Conference at Philadelphia, it appeared, by their muster- rolls, that there were about a thousand members in the different societies. These preachers produced a considerable effect ; and Methodism would have increased even more rapidly than in England, if its progress had not been interrupted by the rebellion. At the commencement of the disputes which led to that unhappy and ill managed contest, Mr. Wesley was disposed to doubt whether the measures of government were defensible : but when the conduct of the revolutionists became more violent, and their intentions were unmasked, he saw good cause for altering his opinion, and published A Calm Address to the Americans," examining the ques- tion, whether the English Parliament had power to tax the colonies. In this little pamphlet he pursued the same chain of reasoning as Dr. Johnson had done, and main- tained that the supreme power in England had a legal right of laying any tax upon them, for any end beneficial to the whole empire. The right of taxation, he argued, rested upon the same ground as the right of legislation : and the popular argument, that every freeman consented to the laws by which he was governed, was a mere fallacy. A very small part of the people were concerned in making laws ; that business could only be done by delegation : those who were not electors had manifestly no part ; and of those who were, when their votes were nearly equally divided, the minority were governed, not only without, but against their own consent. So much with regard to the laws which were enacted in their own times : and how could it be said that any man had consented to those which were made before he was born ] In fact, consent to the laws was purely passive, and no other kind of consent was allowed by the condition of civil life. The Americans had not forfeited the rights of their forefathers, but they could no longer exercise them. They were the descendants of men who either had no votes, or who had resigned them by emigration. They had, therefore, exactly what their ancestors left them : not a vote in making laws, nor in choosing legislators ; but the happiness of being protected by laws, and the duty of obeying them. During the last 238 Wesley's political conduct. war, they had been attacked by enemies, whom they were not able to resist: they had been largely assisted, and, by that means, wholly delivered : the mother country, desiring to be reimbursed for some part of the great expense she had incurred, laid on a small tax, and this reasonable and legal measure had set all America in a flame. How was it possible that such a cause should have produced such an effect? " I will tell you," said Wesley. I speak the more freely, because I am unbiased. I have nothing to hope or fear on either side. I gain nothing, either by the gov- ernment or by the Americans, and probably never shall ; and I have no prejudice to any man in America: I love you as my brethren and countrymen. My opinion is this : we have a few men in England who are determined ene- mies to monarchy. Whether they hate his present Majesty on any other ground than because he is a king, I know not ; but they cordially hate his office, and have for some years been undermining it with all diligence, in hopes of erecting their grand idol, their dear commonwealth, upon its ruins. I believe they have let very few into their design (although many forward it, without knowing any thing of the matter) ; but they are steadily pursuing it, as by various other means, so, in particular, by inflammatory papers, which are indus- triously and continually dispersed throughout the towns and country. By this method they have already wrought thousands of the people even to the pitch of madness. By the same, only varied according to your circumstances, they have likewise inflamed America. I make no doubt but these very men are the original cause of the present breach between England and her colonies. And they are still pouring oil into the flame, studiously incensing each against the other, and opposing, under a variety of pre- tenses, all measures of accommodation. So that although the Americans, in general, love the English, and the En- glish, in general, love the Americans (all, I mean, that are not yet cheated and exasperated by these artful men), yet the rupture is growing wider every day, and none can tell where it can end. These good men hope it will end in the total defection of North America from England. If this were effected, they trust the English in general would be so irreconcilably disgusted, that they should be able, with or without foreign assistance, entirely to Qverturn the government." Wesley's political conduct. 239 Mr. Wesley afterward perceived, that the class of per- sons whom he had here supposed to be the prime movers of this unhappy contest, were only aiders and abettors, and that the crisis had come on from natural causes. '* I allow,'* said he, *' that the Americans were strongly exhorted, by letters from England, ' never to yield, or lay down their arms, till they had their own terms, which the government would be constrained to give them in a short time.' But those measures were concerted long before this — long be- fore either the Tea Act or the Stamp Act existed, only they were not digested into form. Forty years ago, when my brother was in Boston, it was the general language there, * We must shake off the yoke ; we never shall be a free people till we shake off the English yoke :' and the late acts of parliament were not the cause of what they have since done, but barely the occasion they laid hold on." That the American revolution must in great part be traced to the puritanical origin of the New-England States, is indeed certain : but colonies are naturally republican ; and when they are far distant, and upon a large scale, they tend necessarily, as well as naturally, to separation. Colo- nies will be formed with a view to this, when colonial policy shall be better understood. It will be acknowledged, that when protection is no longer needed, dependence ceases to be desirable ; and that when a people can maintain and defend themselves, they are past their pupilage. This address excited no little indignation among some of the English partisans of the Americans ; and it pro- duced a letter to Mr. Wesley from Mr. Caleb Evans, a Baptist minister at Bristol, of considerable reputation in his own community. Wesley, who had neither leisure nor inclination for controversy, left the field to Mr. Fletch- er, who again, on this occasion, seconded his friend with great ability, as well as zeal. ** My reverence for God's word," said this good man, — " my duty to the king, and regard for my friend, — my love to injured truth, and the consciousness of the sweet liberty which I enjoy under the government, call for this little tribute of my pen ; and I pay it so much the more cheerfully, as few men in the kingdom have had a better opportunity of trying which is most eligible, a republican government or the mild-tem- pered monarchy of England. I lived more than twenty years the subject of two of the mildest republics of Europe : I have been for above that number of years the subject of 240 Wesley's political conduct. your sovereign ; and, from sweet experience, I can set my seal to this clause of the king's speech, at the opening of this session of parliament, 'To be a subject of Great Britain, with all its consequences, is to be the happiest subject of any civil government in the world.* " Mr. Fletcher was no common controversialist : earnest sincerity, and devout ardor, were not more conspicuous in his writings, than the benevolence which appeared when he argued with most force and warmth, and the pure can- dor and religious charity which even his theological oppo- nents felt and acknowledged. He, as well as IVIi'. Wesley, saw distinctly in what the principles of the American con- test began, and in what they were likely to end. " If once legislation," he said, with Baxter, *' (the chief act of government) be denied to be any part of government at all, and affirmed to belong to the people as such, who are no governors, all government will thereby be overthrown. Give me," he truly said, " Dr. Price's political principles, and I will move all kings out of their thrones, and all sub- jection out of the world." He rested the question upon religious grounds, and, on those grounds, argued against civil, as he had formerly done against ecclesiastical Anti- nomianism. The transition from one to the other, he said, was easy and obvious ; for as he that reverences the law of God will naturally reverence the just commands of the king, so he that thinks himself free from the law of the Lord will hardly think himself bound by the statutes of his sovereign. He traced the pestilent errors which were now again beginning to prevail, after having for more than a cen- tury been subdued, to those seeds which had sprung up with the Lollards, and brought forth their full harvest at Mun- ster.* He pressed upon his opponent, as a Christian, those * " All our danger at present," says he, " is from King Mob ; and (pursuing Mr. Wesley's view of the subject) this danger is so much the greater, as some dissenters among us, who were quiet in the late reign, and thought themselves happy under the protection of the Toleration Act, grow restless, begin openly to countenance their dissatisfied breth- ren in America, and make it a point of conscience to foment divisions in the kingdom. Whether they do it merely from a brotherly regard to the colonists, who chiefly worship God according to the dissenting plan, or whether they hope that a revolution on the Continent would be naturally productive of a revolution in England ; that a revolution in the State, here, would draw after it ? revolution in the Church ; and that if the Church of England were once shaken, the dissenting churches among us might raise themselves" upon her ruins ; — whether, I say, there is something of this imder the cry of slavery and robbery, which Wesley's political conduct. 241 texts of Scriptu7*e which enjoin the duty of submission to estabUshed authorities ; and, as a Calvinist, the articles of Calvin's confession of faith, wherein that duty is expressly recognized. " We believe that God will have the world to be governed by laws and civil powers, that the lawless inclinations of men may be curbed ; and therefore he has established kingdoms and republics, and other sorts of gov- ernments (some hereditary, and some otherwise), together with whatsoever belongs to judicature ; and He will be acknowledged the author of government. We ought, then, not only to bear, for his sake, that rulers should have do- minion over us ; but it is also our bounden duty to honor them, and to esteem them worthy of all reverence, consid- ering them as God's lieutenants and officers, which He has commissioned to execute a lawful and holy commission. We maintain, therefore, that we are bound to obey their laws and statutes, to pay tribute, taxes, and other duties, and to bear the yoke of subjection freely and with good- will ; and therefore we detest the men who reject superi- orities, introduce community and confusion of property, and overthrow the order of justice. Sir," he continued, applying the argumentum ad hominem to his opponent, ** you ai-e a Calvinist ; you follow the French reformer, when he teaches the absolute reprobation, and unavoidable damnation, of myriads of poor creatures yet unborn. Oh, forsake him not, when he follows Christ, and teachcis that God (not the people) is to be acknowledged the duthor of power and government, and that we are kound to bear cheerfully, for his sake, the yoke of scriptural subjection to our governors! Be entreated, sir. co rectify your false notions of liberty. The liberty <>t Christians and Britons does not consist in bearing no yoke, but in bearing a yoke made easy by a gracious Savior and a gracious sovereign. A John of Ley den may promise to make us first lawless, then legislators an^i kings ; and, by his delusive promises, he may raise to — a fool's paradise, if not to — the gal- lows. But true deliverer, and a good goveraor, says to our restl