“1742, Sunday, October 31. Several of the leaders desired to have an hour’s conversation with me. I found, they were greatly perplexed about ‘want of management, ill-husbandry, encouraging idleness, improper distribution of money,’ ‘being imposed upon by fair pretences,’ and ‘men who talked well, but had no grace in their hearts.’ I asked, who thosemen were; but that they could not tell. Who encouraged idleness; when and how; what money had been improperly distributed; by whom, and to whom; in what instances I had been imposed upon (as I presumed they meantme); and what were the particulars of that ill-husbandry and mismanagement of which they complained. They stared at one another as men in amaze. I began to be amazed too, not being able to imagine what was the matter, till one dropped a word, by which all came out. They had been talking with Mr. Hall, who had started so many objections against all I said or did, that, they were in the utmost consternation, till the fire thus broke out, which then at once vanished away.”
“1742, Sunday, October 31. Several of the leaders desired to have an hour’s conversation with me. I found, they were greatly perplexed about ‘want of management, ill-husbandry, encouraging idleness, improper distribution of money,’ ‘being imposed upon by fair pretences,’ and ‘men who talked well, but had no grace in their hearts.’ I asked, who thosemen were; but that they could not tell. Who encouraged idleness; when and how; what money had been improperly distributed; by whom, and to whom; in what instances I had been imposed upon (as I presumed they meantme); and what were the particulars of that ill-husbandry and mismanagement of which they complained. They stared at one another as men in amaze. I began to be amazed too, not being able to imagine what was the matter, till one dropped a word, by which all came out. They had been talking with Mr. Hall, who had started so many objections against all I said or did, that, they were in the utmost consternation, till the fire thus broke out, which then at once vanished away.”
Wesley’s mother had died in the Foundry three months previous to this disclosure; and Wesley had invited Hall and his wife (who had been bereaved of several children) to take up their residence in his own humble dwelling. The following letter, addressed to Mrs. Hall, refers to this and other matters.
“Newcastle-upon-Tyne,Nov. 17, 1742.“Dear Sister,—I believe the death of your children is a great instance of the goodness of God towards you. You have often mentioned to me how much of your time they took up. Now that time is restored to you, and you have nothing to do but to serve the Lord without carefulness and without distraction, till you are sanctified in body, soul, and spirit.“As soon as I saw Mr. Hall, I invited him to stay at the Foundry; but he desired I would have him excused. There is a strange inconsistency in his tempers and sentiments with regard to me. Thestill brethren[306]have gradually infused into him as much as they could of their own contempt of me and my brother, and dislike of our whole method of proceeding, which is as different from theirs as light from darkness. Nay, they have blunderingly taught him to find fault even with my economy and want of management both of my family and society. Whereas, I know this is the peculiar talent which God has given me, wherein (by His grace) I am not behind the very chiefest of them. Notwithstanding this, there remains in him something of his old regard for me, which he had at Oxford; and, by-and-by, it will prevail. He will find out these wretched men, and the clouds will flee away.“My belief is, that, the present design of God, is to visit the poor desolate Church of England; and, that, therefore, neither deluded Mr. Gambold, nor any who leave it, will prosper. O pray for the peace of Jerusalem. ‘They shall prosper that love thee.’“Mr. Hall has paid me for the books. I don’t want any money of you;your love is sufficient. But write, as often and as largely as you can, to your affectionate friend and brother,“John Wesley.”[307]
“Newcastle-upon-Tyne,Nov. 17, 1742.
“Dear Sister,—I believe the death of your children is a great instance of the goodness of God towards you. You have often mentioned to me how much of your time they took up. Now that time is restored to you, and you have nothing to do but to serve the Lord without carefulness and without distraction, till you are sanctified in body, soul, and spirit.
“As soon as I saw Mr. Hall, I invited him to stay at the Foundry; but he desired I would have him excused. There is a strange inconsistency in his tempers and sentiments with regard to me. Thestill brethren[306]have gradually infused into him as much as they could of their own contempt of me and my brother, and dislike of our whole method of proceeding, which is as different from theirs as light from darkness. Nay, they have blunderingly taught him to find fault even with my economy and want of management both of my family and society. Whereas, I know this is the peculiar talent which God has given me, wherein (by His grace) I am not behind the very chiefest of them. Notwithstanding this, there remains in him something of his old regard for me, which he had at Oxford; and, by-and-by, it will prevail. He will find out these wretched men, and the clouds will flee away.
“My belief is, that, the present design of God, is to visit the poor desolate Church of England; and, that, therefore, neither deluded Mr. Gambold, nor any who leave it, will prosper. O pray for the peace of Jerusalem. ‘They shall prosper that love thee.’
“Mr. Hall has paid me for the books. I don’t want any money of you;your love is sufficient. But write, as often and as largely as you can, to your affectionate friend and brother,
“John Wesley.”[307]
Not long after this, “poor Moravianized Mr. Hall,” as Charles Wesley calls him, seems to have removed to Salisbury, and there to have occupied a chapel, and set up a Society of his own, which his wife refused to join. Charles Wesley writes:—
“1743, August 11. From ten to two, I got with my sister Hall in Salisbury. She stands alone. Every soul of her husband’s Society has forsaken the ordinances of God; for which reason she refuses to belong to it.”
“1743, August 11. From ten to two, I got with my sister Hall in Salisbury. She stands alone. Every soul of her husband’s Society has forsaken the ordinances of God; for which reason she refuses to belong to it.”
Westley Hall was now an avowed Dissenter. His wife objected to leave the Church of her venerable father. Her husband’s disciples jeered her; and, before long, her husband himself committed against her the most cruel wrongs. Another extract from Charles Wesley’s Journal will be useful. On his way from London to Bristol, he wrote:—
“1745, June 19. Three miles on this side Salisbury, astillsister came out to meet, and try her skill upon, me. But, alas! it was labour lost! I knew thehappy sinner, and all her paces. I found my sister as a rock in the midst of waves. Mr. Hall’s Society had all left the Church, and mocked and persecuted her for not leaving it. Many pressed me to preach; but I answered them, ‘My heart was notfreeto it.’ At four, I set out with my sister; and reached Bristol in the afternoon of the next day.”
“1745, June 19. Three miles on this side Salisbury, astillsister came out to meet, and try her skill upon, me. But, alas! it was labour lost! I knew thehappy sinner, and all her paces. I found my sister as a rock in the midst of waves. Mr. Hall’s Society had all left the Church, and mocked and persecuted her for not leaving it. Many pressed me to preach; but I answered them, ‘My heart was notfreeto it.’ At four, I set out with my sister; and reached Bristol in the afternoon of the next day.”
Six months after this, Hall, not satisfied with his dissenting success at Salisbury, used his utmost endeavours to make converts of the two Wesley brothers. To John Wesley he wrote a long letter, earnestly pressing him and his brother “to renounce the Church of England.” Hall’s letter is lost; but Wesley’s answer exists, and is too important to be omitted. It exhibits the ground taken by Hall, and shows the position and difficulties of some, at least, of the Oxford Methodists.
“December 30, 1745.“Dear Brother,—Now you act the part of a friend. It has long been our desire, that, you would speak freely. And we will do the same. What we know not yet, may God reveal to us!“You think, First, that, we undertake todefendsome things, which are notdefensibleby theWord of God. You instance three: on each of which we will explain ourselves as clearly as we can.“1. ‘That, thevalidityof ourministrydepends on asuccessionsupposed to be from the Apostles, and acommissionderived from the Pope ofRome, and hissuccessorsordependents.’“We believe, it would not be right for us toadminister, either Baptism or the Lord’s Supper, unless we had acommissionso to do from those Bishops, whom we apprehend to be in asuccessionfrom the Apostles. And, yet, we allow, these Bishops are the successors of those, who are dependent on the Bishop ofRome. But, we would be glad to know, on what reasons you believe this to be inconsistent with the Word of God.“2. ‘That, there is anoutward Priesthood, and consequently anoutward Sacrifice, ordained and offered by the Bishop ofRome, and hissuccessorsordependents, in the Church ofEngland, asvicarsand vicegerents of Christ.’“We believe there is and always was, ineveryChristian Church (whether dependent on the Bishop ofRomeor not) anoutward Priesthoodordained by Jesus Christ, and anoutward Sacrificeoffered therein, by men authorized to act, asAmbassadors of Christ, and Stewards of the mysteries of God. On what grounds do you believe, that, Christ has abolished thatPriesthood or Sacrifice?“3. ‘That, thisPapal HierarchyandPrelacy, which still continues in the Church of England, is ofApostolical Institution, and authorized thereby; though not by thewritten Word.’“We believe, that, the threefold order of ministers, (which you seem to mean byPapal HierarchyandPrelacy,) is not only authorized by itsApostolical Institution, but also by thewritten Word. Yet, we are willing to hear and weigh whatever reasons induce you to believe to the contrary.“You think, Secondly, ‘That, we ourselves give up some things asindefensible, which are defended by the same law andauthority, that establish the things above mentioned: such as are many of theLaws,Customs, andPracticesof theEcclesiastical Courts.’“We allow, 1. That, thoseLaws,Customs, andPracticesare reallyindefensible; 2. That, there are Acts of Parliament, indefenceof them; and also of the threefold order. But, will you show us, how it follows, either, 1. that, those things and these stand or fall together? Or, 2. that, we cannotsincerely plead forthe one, though wegive upthe other? Do you not here quite overlook one circumstance, which might be a key to our whole behaviour? Namely, that, we no more look upon thosefilthy abuses, whichadhereto our Church, aspartsof the building; than we look upon anyfilthwhich mayadhereto the walls ofWestminster Abbey, as a part of that structure.“You think, Thirdly, ‘That, there are other things which wedefendandpractise, inopen contradictionto theOrdersof the Church ofEngland. And this you judge to be ajust exceptionagainst thesincerityof ourprofessionsto adhere to it.’“Compare what weprofesswith what wepractise, and you will possibly be of another judgment. We profess, 1. That, we will obey all the laws of that Church, (such we allow the Rubrics to be, but not the Customs of the Ecclesiastical Courts,) so far as we can with a safe conscience. 2. That, we will obey, with the same restriction, the Bishops, as executors of thoselaws. But their barewill, distinct from thoselaws, we do notprofessto obey at all. Now point out, What is there in ourpractice, which is anopen contradictionto theseprofessions?“IsField-Preaching? Not at all. It is contrary to no law, which weprofessto obey.“The allowingLay-Preachers? We are not clear, that, this is contrary to anysuch law. But, if it is, this is one of the exempt cases; one wherein we cannot obey with a safe conscience. Therefore, (be it right or wrong on other accounts,) it is however no just exception against our sincerity.“TheRulesandDirectionsgiven to ourSocieties? which, you say, is a disciplineutterly forbiddenby theBishops. When and where did any Bishopforbidthis? And if any did, by whatlaw? We know not either the man who everdidforbid, or the law by which hecouldforbid it.“The allowingpersons(for we require none) tocommunicateat the chapel, in contradiction, (you think,) toall those Rubrics, which requireallto attendalways, on their ownparishchurch andpastor, and to receiveonlyat his table?“Which Rubrics are those? We cannot find them. And, till these are produced, all that is so frequently said ofparochialunity, etc., is merelygratis dictum. Consequently, neither is this any just exception against the sincerity of any of our professions.“John Wesley.”[308]
“December 30, 1745.
“Dear Brother,—Now you act the part of a friend. It has long been our desire, that, you would speak freely. And we will do the same. What we know not yet, may God reveal to us!
“You think, First, that, we undertake todefendsome things, which are notdefensibleby theWord of God. You instance three: on each of which we will explain ourselves as clearly as we can.
“1. ‘That, thevalidityof ourministrydepends on asuccessionsupposed to be from the Apostles, and acommissionderived from the Pope ofRome, and hissuccessorsordependents.’
“We believe, it would not be right for us toadminister, either Baptism or the Lord’s Supper, unless we had acommissionso to do from those Bishops, whom we apprehend to be in asuccessionfrom the Apostles. And, yet, we allow, these Bishops are the successors of those, who are dependent on the Bishop ofRome. But, we would be glad to know, on what reasons you believe this to be inconsistent with the Word of God.
“2. ‘That, there is anoutward Priesthood, and consequently anoutward Sacrifice, ordained and offered by the Bishop ofRome, and hissuccessorsordependents, in the Church ofEngland, asvicarsand vicegerents of Christ.’
“We believe there is and always was, ineveryChristian Church (whether dependent on the Bishop ofRomeor not) anoutward Priesthoodordained by Jesus Christ, and anoutward Sacrificeoffered therein, by men authorized to act, asAmbassadors of Christ, and Stewards of the mysteries of God. On what grounds do you believe, that, Christ has abolished thatPriesthood or Sacrifice?
“3. ‘That, thisPapal HierarchyandPrelacy, which still continues in the Church of England, is ofApostolical Institution, and authorized thereby; though not by thewritten Word.’
“We believe, that, the threefold order of ministers, (which you seem to mean byPapal HierarchyandPrelacy,) is not only authorized by itsApostolical Institution, but also by thewritten Word. Yet, we are willing to hear and weigh whatever reasons induce you to believe to the contrary.
“You think, Secondly, ‘That, we ourselves give up some things asindefensible, which are defended by the same law andauthority, that establish the things above mentioned: such as are many of theLaws,Customs, andPracticesof theEcclesiastical Courts.’
“We allow, 1. That, thoseLaws,Customs, andPracticesare reallyindefensible; 2. That, there are Acts of Parliament, indefenceof them; and also of the threefold order. But, will you show us, how it follows, either, 1. that, those things and these stand or fall together? Or, 2. that, we cannotsincerely plead forthe one, though wegive upthe other? Do you not here quite overlook one circumstance, which might be a key to our whole behaviour? Namely, that, we no more look upon thosefilthy abuses, whichadhereto our Church, aspartsof the building; than we look upon anyfilthwhich mayadhereto the walls ofWestminster Abbey, as a part of that structure.
“You think, Thirdly, ‘That, there are other things which wedefendandpractise, inopen contradictionto theOrdersof the Church ofEngland. And this you judge to be ajust exceptionagainst thesincerityof ourprofessionsto adhere to it.’
“Compare what weprofesswith what wepractise, and you will possibly be of another judgment. We profess, 1. That, we will obey all the laws of that Church, (such we allow the Rubrics to be, but not the Customs of the Ecclesiastical Courts,) so far as we can with a safe conscience. 2. That, we will obey, with the same restriction, the Bishops, as executors of thoselaws. But their barewill, distinct from thoselaws, we do notprofessto obey at all. Now point out, What is there in ourpractice, which is anopen contradictionto theseprofessions?
“IsField-Preaching? Not at all. It is contrary to no law, which weprofessto obey.
“The allowingLay-Preachers? We are not clear, that, this is contrary to anysuch law. But, if it is, this is one of the exempt cases; one wherein we cannot obey with a safe conscience. Therefore, (be it right or wrong on other accounts,) it is however no just exception against our sincerity.
“TheRulesandDirectionsgiven to ourSocieties? which, you say, is a disciplineutterly forbiddenby theBishops. When and where did any Bishopforbidthis? And if any did, by whatlaw? We know not either the man who everdidforbid, or the law by which hecouldforbid it.
“The allowingpersons(for we require none) tocommunicateat the chapel, in contradiction, (you think,) toall those Rubrics, which requireallto attendalways, on their ownparishchurch andpastor, and to receiveonlyat his table?
“Which Rubrics are those? We cannot find them. And, till these are produced, all that is so frequently said ofparochialunity, etc., is merelygratis dictum. Consequently, neither is this any just exception against the sincerity of any of our professions.
“John Wesley.”[308]
This long, but sententiously expressed letter is of considerable importance. It contains the arguments employed by Hall to induce Wesley and his brother to renounce their connection with the Church of England; and it shows, that, notwithstanding the novel steps that Wesley had taken during the last half a dozen years, he still, in some respects, belonged to the High-Church clergy, and believed in the popish figment of apostolical succession, and could talk of the “outward Sacrifice” offered in the Church.
Hall failed to convert Wesley to his Dissenting principles; and equally failed to persuade him to abandon out-door preaching, the employment of lay-evangelists, and the administration of the sacraments in unconsecrated chapels. The two old friends were not yet finally separated; but theyhad no confidence in each other. A few months after the date of the above letter, Wesley wrote as follows:—
“1746. July 20. I set out for Salisbury, where, to my utter amazement, Mr. Hall desired me to preach. Was his motive only, to grace his own cause? Or rather, was this the last gasp of expiring love?”
“1746. July 20. I set out for Salisbury, where, to my utter amazement, Mr. Hall desired me to preach. Was his motive only, to grace his own cause? Or rather, was this the last gasp of expiring love?”
The last gasp of expiring love it proved. In a little more than a year afterwards, Hall infamously deserted his wife and family. From a letter, published in theGentleman’s Magazine, and dated “Salisbury, October 30, 1747,” we learn, that, “by an uncommon appearance of sanctity, joined with indefatigable labour in field and house preaching,” he had drawn “multitudes of the meaner sort, both of Dissenters and the Established Church, to attend him. And, though he had continually advanced the grossest absurdities, both in his preaching and writings,[309]yet, he so bewitched his followers, that, his words had greater weight with them than the words of Christ and His Apostles.” The writer continues,—
“Last Wednesday, he took formal leave of his corrupted flock, and had the impudence to justify his infamous conduct from the case of Elkanah, (1 Sam. i. 1, 2), which he largely expounded. On Friday morning, he set out for London, having first stripped his wife, (a virtuous woman by whom he has had several children,) of all her childbed linen, and whatever he could readily convert into money, leaving her in the deepest distress. The fire of jealousy has broken out in many families, wherewivesordaughterswere his followers.”
“Last Wednesday, he took formal leave of his corrupted flock, and had the impudence to justify his infamous conduct from the case of Elkanah, (1 Sam. i. 1, 2), which he largely expounded. On Friday morning, he set out for London, having first stripped his wife, (a virtuous woman by whom he has had several children,) of all her childbed linen, and whatever he could readily convert into money, leaving her in the deepest distress. The fire of jealousy has broken out in many families, wherewivesordaughterswere his followers.”
At the time of this disgraceful occurrence, Charles Wesley was in Ireland; but John, with as little delay as possible, hastened to the desolate home of his forsaken sister, where he wrote:—
“From the concurrent account of many witnesses, who spoke no more than they personally knew, I now learned as much as is hitherto brought to light concerning the fall of poor Mr. Hall. Twelve years ago, he was, without all question, filled with faith and the love of God. He was a pattern of humility, meekness, seriousness, and, above all, of self-denial;so that, in all England, I knew not his fellow. It were easy to point out the several steps, whereby he fell from his steadfastness; even till he fell into a course of adultery, yea, and avowed it in the face of the sun!”
“From the concurrent account of many witnesses, who spoke no more than they personally knew, I now learned as much as is hitherto brought to light concerning the fall of poor Mr. Hall. Twelve years ago, he was, without all question, filled with faith and the love of God. He was a pattern of humility, meekness, seriousness, and, above all, of self-denial;so that, in all England, I knew not his fellow. It were easy to point out the several steps, whereby he fell from his steadfastness; even till he fell into a course of adultery, yea, and avowed it in the face of the sun!”
Wesley wrote to the miserable delinquent the following long, faithful, and Christian letter, in which “the several steps, whereby he fell from his steadfastness” are enumerated.
“London,December 22, 1747.“Dear Brother,—1. When you were at Oxford with me, fourteen or fifteen years ago, you were holy and unblamable in all manner of conversation. I greatly rejoiced in the grace of God, which was given unto you, which was often a blessing to my own soul. Yet, even then, you had frequently starts of thought, which were not of God, though they at first appeared so to be. But you were humble and teachable: you were easily convinced, and those imaginations vanished away.“2. More than twelve years ago, you told me, God had revealed it to you, that you should marry my youngest sister. I was much surprised, being well assured that you were able to receive our Lord’s saying, (so you had continually testified,) and to be an ‘eunuch for the kingdom of heaven’s sake.’ But, you vehemently affirmed, the thing was of God; you were certain it was His will. God had made it plain to you, that, you must marry, and, that, she was the very person. You asked, and gained her consent, and fixed the circumstances relating thereto.“3. Hence, I date your fall. Here were several faults in one. You leaned altogether to your own understanding, not consulting either me, who was then the guide of your soul, or the parents of your intended wife, till you had settled the whole affair. And while you followed the voice of nature, you said it was the voice of God.“4. In a few days, you had a counter revelation, that, you were not to marry her, but her sister. This last error was far worse than the first. But, you were now quite above conviction. So, in spite of her poor, astonished parent, of her brothers, of all your vows and promises, you shortly after jilted the younger, and married the elder sister. The other, who had honoured you as an angel from heaven, and still loved you much too well, (for you had stolen her heart from the God of her youth,) refused to be comforted. She fell into a lingering illness, which terminated in her death. And doth not her blood still cry unto God from the earth? Surely it is uponyourhead.“5. Till this time, you were a pattern of lowliness, meekness, seriousness, and continual advertence to the presence of God; and, above all, of self-denial of every kind, and of suffering all things with joyfulness. But there was now a worm at the root of the gourd. Yet, it did not presently wither away; but, for two years or more, after your marriage, you behaved nearly the same as before.“Then anger and surliness began to appear, particularly toward yourwife. But it was not long before you were sensible of this, and you seemed to have conquered it.“6. You went up to London ten years ago. After this, you began to speak on any head; not with your usual diffidence and self-abasement, but with a kind of confidence in your own judgment, and an air of self-sufficiency. A natural consequence was, the treating with more sharpness and contempt those who opposed either your judgment or practice.“7. You came to live at London. You then, for a season, appeared to gain ground again. You acted in concert with my brother and me; heard our advice, and sometimes followed it. But, this continued only till you contracted a fresh acquaintance with some of the Brethren of Fetter Lane. Henceforward, you were quite shut up to us; we had no manner of influence over you. You were more and more prejudiced against us, and would receive nothing which we said.“8. About six years ago, you removed to Salisbury, and began a society there. For a year or two, you went with them to church and sacrament, and simply preached faith working by love. God was with you, and they increased both in number, and in the knowledge and love of God.“About four years since, you broke off all friendship with us. You would not so much as make use of our hymns, either in public or private; but laid them quite aside, and took the German Hymn-book in their stead.“You would not willingly suffer any of your people to read anything which we wrote. You angrily caught one of my sermons out of your servant’s hand, saying, you would have no such books read in your house. In much the same manner, you spoke to Mrs. Whitemarsh, when you found her reading one of the “Appeals.” So that, as far as in you lay, you fixed a great gulf between us and you, which remains to this day, notwithstanding a few steps lately made towards a re-union.“About the same time, you left off going to church, as well as to the sacrament. Your followers very soon trod in your steps; and, not content with neglecting the ordinances of God, they began, after your example, todespisethem, and all that continued to use them, speaking with equal contempt of the public service, of private prayer, of baptism, and of the Lord’s Supper.“From this time, also, you began to espouse and teach many uncommon opinions: as, that, there is no resurrection of the body; that, there is no general judgment to come; and, that, there is no hell, no worm that never dieth, no fire that never shall be quenched.“9. Your seriousness and advertence to the presence of God, now, declined daily. You could talk on anything or nothing, just as others did. You could break a jest, or laugh at it heartily; and, as for fasting, abstinence, and self-denial, you, with the Moravians, trampled it under foot.”
“London,December 22, 1747.
“Dear Brother,—1. When you were at Oxford with me, fourteen or fifteen years ago, you were holy and unblamable in all manner of conversation. I greatly rejoiced in the grace of God, which was given unto you, which was often a blessing to my own soul. Yet, even then, you had frequently starts of thought, which were not of God, though they at first appeared so to be. But you were humble and teachable: you were easily convinced, and those imaginations vanished away.
“2. More than twelve years ago, you told me, God had revealed it to you, that you should marry my youngest sister. I was much surprised, being well assured that you were able to receive our Lord’s saying, (so you had continually testified,) and to be an ‘eunuch for the kingdom of heaven’s sake.’ But, you vehemently affirmed, the thing was of God; you were certain it was His will. God had made it plain to you, that, you must marry, and, that, she was the very person. You asked, and gained her consent, and fixed the circumstances relating thereto.
“3. Hence, I date your fall. Here were several faults in one. You leaned altogether to your own understanding, not consulting either me, who was then the guide of your soul, or the parents of your intended wife, till you had settled the whole affair. And while you followed the voice of nature, you said it was the voice of God.
“4. In a few days, you had a counter revelation, that, you were not to marry her, but her sister. This last error was far worse than the first. But, you were now quite above conviction. So, in spite of her poor, astonished parent, of her brothers, of all your vows and promises, you shortly after jilted the younger, and married the elder sister. The other, who had honoured you as an angel from heaven, and still loved you much too well, (for you had stolen her heart from the God of her youth,) refused to be comforted. She fell into a lingering illness, which terminated in her death. And doth not her blood still cry unto God from the earth? Surely it is uponyourhead.
“5. Till this time, you were a pattern of lowliness, meekness, seriousness, and continual advertence to the presence of God; and, above all, of self-denial of every kind, and of suffering all things with joyfulness. But there was now a worm at the root of the gourd. Yet, it did not presently wither away; but, for two years or more, after your marriage, you behaved nearly the same as before.
“Then anger and surliness began to appear, particularly toward yourwife. But it was not long before you were sensible of this, and you seemed to have conquered it.
“6. You went up to London ten years ago. After this, you began to speak on any head; not with your usual diffidence and self-abasement, but with a kind of confidence in your own judgment, and an air of self-sufficiency. A natural consequence was, the treating with more sharpness and contempt those who opposed either your judgment or practice.
“7. You came to live at London. You then, for a season, appeared to gain ground again. You acted in concert with my brother and me; heard our advice, and sometimes followed it. But, this continued only till you contracted a fresh acquaintance with some of the Brethren of Fetter Lane. Henceforward, you were quite shut up to us; we had no manner of influence over you. You were more and more prejudiced against us, and would receive nothing which we said.
“8. About six years ago, you removed to Salisbury, and began a society there. For a year or two, you went with them to church and sacrament, and simply preached faith working by love. God was with you, and they increased both in number, and in the knowledge and love of God.
“About four years since, you broke off all friendship with us. You would not so much as make use of our hymns, either in public or private; but laid them quite aside, and took the German Hymn-book in their stead.
“You would not willingly suffer any of your people to read anything which we wrote. You angrily caught one of my sermons out of your servant’s hand, saying, you would have no such books read in your house. In much the same manner, you spoke to Mrs. Whitemarsh, when you found her reading one of the “Appeals.” So that, as far as in you lay, you fixed a great gulf between us and you, which remains to this day, notwithstanding a few steps lately made towards a re-union.
“About the same time, you left off going to church, as well as to the sacrament. Your followers very soon trod in your steps; and, not content with neglecting the ordinances of God, they began, after your example, todespisethem, and all that continued to use them, speaking with equal contempt of the public service, of private prayer, of baptism, and of the Lord’s Supper.
“From this time, also, you began to espouse and teach many uncommon opinions: as, that, there is no resurrection of the body; that, there is no general judgment to come; and, that, there is no hell, no worm that never dieth, no fire that never shall be quenched.
“9. Your seriousness and advertence to the presence of God, now, declined daily. You could talk on anything or nothing, just as others did. You could break a jest, or laugh at it heartily; and, as for fasting, abstinence, and self-denial, you, with the Moravians, trampled it under foot.”
In an interjected note, Wesley says,—
In the following paragraphs, I recited to him the things he had done with regard to more than one, or two, or three women, concluding thus:—“And now you know not that you have done anything amiss! You can eat and drink and be merry! You are every day engaged with variety of company, and frequent the coffee houses! Alas, my brother, what is this? How are you above measure hardened by the deceitfulness of sin? Do you remember the story of Santon Barsisa? I pray God, your last end may not be like his! Oh, how you have grieved the Spirit of God! Return to Him with weeping, fasting, and mourning. You are in the very belly of hell; only the pit hath not shut its mouth upon you. Arise, thou sleeper, and call upon thy God! Perhaps, He may yet be found. Because He still bears withme, I cannot despair foryou. But you have not a moment to lose. May God, this instant, strike you to the heart, that you may feel His wrath abiding on you, and have no rest in your bones, by reason of your sin, till all your iniquities are done away.”“John Wesley.”
In the following paragraphs, I recited to him the things he had done with regard to more than one, or two, or three women, concluding thus:—
“And now you know not that you have done anything amiss! You can eat and drink and be merry! You are every day engaged with variety of company, and frequent the coffee houses! Alas, my brother, what is this? How are you above measure hardened by the deceitfulness of sin? Do you remember the story of Santon Barsisa? I pray God, your last end may not be like his! Oh, how you have grieved the Spirit of God! Return to Him with weeping, fasting, and mourning. You are in the very belly of hell; only the pit hath not shut its mouth upon you. Arise, thou sleeper, and call upon thy God! Perhaps, He may yet be found. Because He still bears withme, I cannot despair foryou. But you have not a moment to lose. May God, this instant, strike you to the heart, that you may feel His wrath abiding on you, and have no rest in your bones, by reason of your sin, till all your iniquities are done away.”
“John Wesley.”
What success attended Wesley’s honest letter? Hall had left his wife at the end of October, 1747. Three months afterwards, he had returned to Salisbury; and Wesley, on his way to Bristol, resolved to call on him. He writes:—
“1748. January 26.“Mr. Hall, having heard I was coming, had given strict orders, that no one should let me in. The inner door he had locked himself, and, I suppose, taken away the key. Yet, when I knocked at the outer gate, which was locked also, William Sims opened the wicket. I walked straight in. A girl stood in the gateway, but turned as soon as she saw me. I followed close at her heels, and went in after her at a back door. I asked the maid, ‘Where is Mr. Hall?’ She said, ‘In the parlour,’ and went in to him. I followed her, and found him sitting with my sister, but he presently rose and went up-stairs. He then sent William Sims down, and bid him, ‘Tell my brother he has no business in my house.’ After a few minutes, I went to a house in the town, and my sister came to me. In about an hour, she returned home; but he sent word to the gate, she might go to the place whence she came. I met a little company, gathered up out of the wreck, both in the evening, and at five in the morning, and exhorted them to go on in the Bible way, and not to be wise above that is written.”
“1748. January 26.
“Mr. Hall, having heard I was coming, had given strict orders, that no one should let me in. The inner door he had locked himself, and, I suppose, taken away the key. Yet, when I knocked at the outer gate, which was locked also, William Sims opened the wicket. I walked straight in. A girl stood in the gateway, but turned as soon as she saw me. I followed close at her heels, and went in after her at a back door. I asked the maid, ‘Where is Mr. Hall?’ She said, ‘In the parlour,’ and went in to him. I followed her, and found him sitting with my sister, but he presently rose and went up-stairs. He then sent William Sims down, and bid him, ‘Tell my brother he has no business in my house.’ After a few minutes, I went to a house in the town, and my sister came to me. In about an hour, she returned home; but he sent word to the gate, she might go to the place whence she came. I met a little company, gathered up out of the wreck, both in the evening, and at five in the morning, and exhorted them to go on in the Bible way, and not to be wise above that is written.”
Having thus failed in his attempt to reason with Westley Hall, and having tried to be of use to a mere handful of the best of the faithless man’s followers, Wesley, two days afterwards, went on his way to Bristol.
Things grew worse and worse. Hall’s first female victim was a young woman, employed in his house as a seamstress. Other infidelities followed; until, at length, his much-enduring wife was driven from him. The man became a professed polygamist.Life at home became intolerable to “poor Patty;” and, even when she fled from the husband, who had become a monster and a brute, again and again she and her brothers were harassed by his following her. The following are extracts from her brother Charles’s Journal:—
“1750. August 13.—I met my sister Hall in the churchyard,” (Bristol) “and carried her to the room. I had begun preaching, when Mr. Hall walked up the room, and through the desk, and carried her off with him. I was somewhat disturbed; yet went on.“August 15.—He came up again, calling me by my name. I fled, and he pursued; but could not find me in my lurking place.“1751. June 4.—Instead of proceeding in Ezekiel, I expounded” (at Bristol) “Hebrew x. 34: ‘Now the just shall live by faith; but, if he draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.’ I saw the reason with Mr. Hall. He came up toward the desk. Mr. Hamilton stopped him. I gave out a hymn. He sang louder than us all. I spoke sharply of his apostasy, and prayed earnestly for him; desired their prayers for me, lest, after preaching to others, I myself, also, should be a castaway. He walked away, turned back, threatened. The people were all in tears, and agony of prayer.”
“1750. August 13.—I met my sister Hall in the churchyard,” (Bristol) “and carried her to the room. I had begun preaching, when Mr. Hall walked up the room, and through the desk, and carried her off with him. I was somewhat disturbed; yet went on.
“August 15.—He came up again, calling me by my name. I fled, and he pursued; but could not find me in my lurking place.
“1751. June 4.—Instead of proceeding in Ezekiel, I expounded” (at Bristol) “Hebrew x. 34: ‘Now the just shall live by faith; but, if he draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.’ I saw the reason with Mr. Hall. He came up toward the desk. Mr. Hamilton stopped him. I gave out a hymn. He sang louder than us all. I spoke sharply of his apostasy, and prayed earnestly for him; desired their prayers for me, lest, after preaching to others, I myself, also, should be a castaway. He walked away, turned back, threatened. The people were all in tears, and agony of prayer.”
There is something horrible in such a scene as this. Westley Hall was “now a settled Deist;”[310]and, yet, here we find him, with stentorian lustiness, and in mockery, singing, in the midst of a disturbed congregation, one of Charles Wesley’s Christian hymns. The man seemed to be abandoned by his God, and left to his own corrupted passions. He is said to have thrown off all restraint, and all regard to decency. He publicly and privately recommended polygamy, as conformable to nature, preached in its defence, and practised as he preached. For years, he lived the life of an adventurer, and a profligate; acting sometimes as a physician, sometimes as priest, or figured away with his sword, cane, and scarlet cloak; assuming any character, according to his humour, or the convenience of the day.[311]
His wife had borne him ten children, nine of whom had been interred at Salisbury. One of them,—Wesley Hall,—still survived, and was being educated at the expense of his uncles, John and Charles. At the age of fourteen, theworse than fatherless boy was seized with small-pox, and died. Dr. Adam Clarke says, he had seen “a folio printed sheet, evidently the publication of Mr. Hall;” entitled, “The Art of Happiness; or, the Right use of Reason: an Epistle to Wesley Hall, Junior.” “The whole,” writes the Doctor, “is a miserable Deistical address, strongly advising his son to follow the dictates of his own nature, as the best way of fulfilling the purposes of his Creator!”
The following are the opening lines:—
“My son, my son, if e’er a parent’s voiceHas power to warn, let this direct thy choice;Take reason’s path, and mad opinions leave,—Reason is truth that never can deceive.”
“My son, my son, if e’er a parent’s voiceHas power to warn, let this direct thy choice;Take reason’s path, and mad opinions leave,—Reason is truth that never can deceive.”
“My son, my son, if e’er a parent’s voiceHas power to warn, let this direct thy choice;Take reason’s path, and mad opinions leave,—Reason is truth that never can deceive.”
“My son, my son, if e’er a parent’s voice
Has power to warn, let this direct thy choice;
Take reason’s path, and mad opinions leave,—
Reason is truth that never can deceive.”
Declaiming against superstition and bigotry, and, perhaps, shooting a shaft against the boy’s uncles,—the two Wesleys,—the profligate poet writes:—
“Inspired with frantic, false, fanatic zeal,See, with what rage, they threat damnation,—hell,To all who fair expose the wretched lies,The frauds, the follies, falsehood, forgeries,Of Romish fathers, councils, canons, schools,Impostors’ orders, monks’ and madmen’s rules.”
“Inspired with frantic, false, fanatic zeal,See, with what rage, they threat damnation,—hell,To all who fair expose the wretched lies,The frauds, the follies, falsehood, forgeries,Of Romish fathers, councils, canons, schools,Impostors’ orders, monks’ and madmen’s rules.”
“Inspired with frantic, false, fanatic zeal,See, with what rage, they threat damnation,—hell,To all who fair expose the wretched lies,The frauds, the follies, falsehood, forgeries,Of Romish fathers, councils, canons, schools,Impostors’ orders, monks’ and madmen’s rules.”
“Inspired with frantic, false, fanatic zeal,
See, with what rage, they threat damnation,—hell,
To all who fair expose the wretched lies,
The frauds, the follies, falsehood, forgeries,
Of Romish fathers, councils, canons, schools,
Impostors’ orders, monks’ and madmen’s rules.”
Love, the universal passion, is eulogized as follows:—
“By thee inspired, we learn each tuneful art,To raise the passions, or improve the heart;The mystic union of the sounding strings,The wondrous commerce of the secret springs,Whence social joy, and sympathetic pain,And friendship’s force, and love’s eternal reign....With all the mighty charms by heaven designed,To raise the bliss of every godlike mind,In love concentring, from that image bright,The fairest mirror of th’ Eternal light.”
“By thee inspired, we learn each tuneful art,To raise the passions, or improve the heart;The mystic union of the sounding strings,The wondrous commerce of the secret springs,Whence social joy, and sympathetic pain,And friendship’s force, and love’s eternal reign....With all the mighty charms by heaven designed,To raise the bliss of every godlike mind,In love concentring, from that image bright,The fairest mirror of th’ Eternal light.”
“By thee inspired, we learn each tuneful art,To raise the passions, or improve the heart;The mystic union of the sounding strings,The wondrous commerce of the secret springs,Whence social joy, and sympathetic pain,And friendship’s force, and love’s eternal reign....With all the mighty charms by heaven designed,To raise the bliss of every godlike mind,In love concentring, from that image bright,The fairest mirror of th’ Eternal light.”
“By thee inspired, we learn each tuneful art,
To raise the passions, or improve the heart;
The mystic union of the sounding strings,
The wondrous commerce of the secret springs,
Whence social joy, and sympathetic pain,
And friendship’s force, and love’s eternal reign.
...
With all the mighty charms by heaven designed,
To raise the bliss of every godlike mind,
In love concentring, from that image bright,
The fairest mirror of th’ Eternal light.”
“He concludes,” says Dr. Clarke, “his ungodly advices to his godly son, in these words:—
“Instructed thus, may’st thou a temple raise,More glorious far than that of ancient days;The work of wisdom, and of virtue fair,With strength and beauty built beyond compare;By reason’s perfect rule, and nature’s scale,Which God’s whole order may to man reveal;Where all things tend, and whence they all began,Of His machinery the wondrous plan.”
“Instructed thus, may’st thou a temple raise,More glorious far than that of ancient days;The work of wisdom, and of virtue fair,With strength and beauty built beyond compare;By reason’s perfect rule, and nature’s scale,Which God’s whole order may to man reveal;Where all things tend, and whence they all began,Of His machinery the wondrous plan.”
“Instructed thus, may’st thou a temple raise,More glorious far than that of ancient days;The work of wisdom, and of virtue fair,With strength and beauty built beyond compare;By reason’s perfect rule, and nature’s scale,Which God’s whole order may to man reveal;Where all things tend, and whence they all began,Of His machinery the wondrous plan.”
“Instructed thus, may’st thou a temple raise,
More glorious far than that of ancient days;
The work of wisdom, and of virtue fair,
With strength and beauty built beyond compare;
By reason’s perfect rule, and nature’s scale,
Which God’s whole order may to man reveal;
Where all things tend, and whence they all began,
Of His machinery the wondrous plan.”
The date of the death of the last of Hall’s legitimate offspring has not been recorded; but his memory was embalmed, and his father’s gibbeted, by his uncle, Charles Wesley, in a poetical pamphlet, entitled “Funeral Hymns,” published in 1759, pp. 70. The tenth of these hymns is devoted entirely to the son, and is exquisitely beautiful; the eleventh is a withering invective against the apostate father. The following is a copy:—
“Rest, happy saint, with God secure,Lodged in the bosom of the Lamb;Thy joy is full, thy state is sure,Through all eternity the same;The heavenly doors have shut thee in,The mighty gulf is fixed between.“Thy God forbade the son to bearThe father’s wickedness below:And O! thou canst not suffer thereHis foul reproach, his guilty woe,His fearful doom thou canst not feel,Or fall, like him, from heaven to hell.“That tender sense of infant grace,(Extinct in him,) which dwelt in thee,Nor sin, nor Satan can efface:From pain and grief for ever free,Thou canst not now his fall deplore,Or pray for one that prays no more.“Yet may thy last expiring prayer,For a lost parent’s soul, prevail,And move the God of love to spare,To arrest him, at the mouth of hell:O God of love, Thine ear incline,And save a soul that once was Thine!“Thou didst his heaven-born spirit draw,Thou didst his child-like heart inspire,And fill with love’s profoundest awe;Though now inflamed with hellish fire,He dares Thy favourite Son blaspheme,And hates the God that died for him.“Commissioned by the dying God,Blessed with a powerful ministry,The world he pointed to Thy blood,And turned whole multitudes to Thee;Others he saved, himself a preyTo hell, an hopeless castaway.“Murderer of souls, Thou knowest, he lives.(Poor souls for whom Thyself hast died,)His dreadful punishment receives,And bears the mark of sullen pride;And furious lusts his bosom tear,And the dire worm of sad despair.“Condemned, like haggard Cain, to rove,By Satan and himself pursued,Apostate from redeeming love,Abandoned to the curse of God;Thou hear’st the vagabond complain,Loud howling, while he bites his chain.“But O, Thou righteous God, how longShall Thy vindictive anger last?Canst Thou not yet forgive the wrong,Bid all his penal woes be past?All power, all mercy as Thou art,O break his adamantine heart!“Before the yawning cavern closeIts mouth on its devoted prey,Thou, who hast died to save Thy foes,Thy death’s omnipotence display;And snatch from that eternal fire,And let him in Thy arms expire.”
“Rest, happy saint, with God secure,Lodged in the bosom of the Lamb;Thy joy is full, thy state is sure,Through all eternity the same;The heavenly doors have shut thee in,The mighty gulf is fixed between.“Thy God forbade the son to bearThe father’s wickedness below:And O! thou canst not suffer thereHis foul reproach, his guilty woe,His fearful doom thou canst not feel,Or fall, like him, from heaven to hell.“That tender sense of infant grace,(Extinct in him,) which dwelt in thee,Nor sin, nor Satan can efface:From pain and grief for ever free,Thou canst not now his fall deplore,Or pray for one that prays no more.“Yet may thy last expiring prayer,For a lost parent’s soul, prevail,And move the God of love to spare,To arrest him, at the mouth of hell:O God of love, Thine ear incline,And save a soul that once was Thine!“Thou didst his heaven-born spirit draw,Thou didst his child-like heart inspire,And fill with love’s profoundest awe;Though now inflamed with hellish fire,He dares Thy favourite Son blaspheme,And hates the God that died for him.“Commissioned by the dying God,Blessed with a powerful ministry,The world he pointed to Thy blood,And turned whole multitudes to Thee;Others he saved, himself a preyTo hell, an hopeless castaway.“Murderer of souls, Thou knowest, he lives.(Poor souls for whom Thyself hast died,)His dreadful punishment receives,And bears the mark of sullen pride;And furious lusts his bosom tear,And the dire worm of sad despair.“Condemned, like haggard Cain, to rove,By Satan and himself pursued,Apostate from redeeming love,Abandoned to the curse of God;Thou hear’st the vagabond complain,Loud howling, while he bites his chain.“But O, Thou righteous God, how longShall Thy vindictive anger last?Canst Thou not yet forgive the wrong,Bid all his penal woes be past?All power, all mercy as Thou art,O break his adamantine heart!“Before the yawning cavern closeIts mouth on its devoted prey,Thou, who hast died to save Thy foes,Thy death’s omnipotence display;And snatch from that eternal fire,And let him in Thy arms expire.”
“Rest, happy saint, with God secure,Lodged in the bosom of the Lamb;Thy joy is full, thy state is sure,Through all eternity the same;The heavenly doors have shut thee in,The mighty gulf is fixed between.
“Rest, happy saint, with God secure,
Lodged in the bosom of the Lamb;
Thy joy is full, thy state is sure,
Through all eternity the same;
The heavenly doors have shut thee in,
The mighty gulf is fixed between.
“Thy God forbade the son to bearThe father’s wickedness below:And O! thou canst not suffer thereHis foul reproach, his guilty woe,His fearful doom thou canst not feel,Or fall, like him, from heaven to hell.
“Thy God forbade the son to bear
The father’s wickedness below:
And O! thou canst not suffer there
His foul reproach, his guilty woe,
His fearful doom thou canst not feel,
Or fall, like him, from heaven to hell.
“That tender sense of infant grace,(Extinct in him,) which dwelt in thee,Nor sin, nor Satan can efface:From pain and grief for ever free,Thou canst not now his fall deplore,Or pray for one that prays no more.
“That tender sense of infant grace,
(Extinct in him,) which dwelt in thee,
Nor sin, nor Satan can efface:
From pain and grief for ever free,
Thou canst not now his fall deplore,
Or pray for one that prays no more.
“Yet may thy last expiring prayer,For a lost parent’s soul, prevail,And move the God of love to spare,To arrest him, at the mouth of hell:O God of love, Thine ear incline,And save a soul that once was Thine!
“Yet may thy last expiring prayer,
For a lost parent’s soul, prevail,
And move the God of love to spare,
To arrest him, at the mouth of hell:
O God of love, Thine ear incline,
And save a soul that once was Thine!
“Thou didst his heaven-born spirit draw,Thou didst his child-like heart inspire,And fill with love’s profoundest awe;Though now inflamed with hellish fire,He dares Thy favourite Son blaspheme,And hates the God that died for him.
“Thou didst his heaven-born spirit draw,
Thou didst his child-like heart inspire,
And fill with love’s profoundest awe;
Though now inflamed with hellish fire,
He dares Thy favourite Son blaspheme,
And hates the God that died for him.
“Commissioned by the dying God,Blessed with a powerful ministry,The world he pointed to Thy blood,And turned whole multitudes to Thee;Others he saved, himself a preyTo hell, an hopeless castaway.
“Commissioned by the dying God,
Blessed with a powerful ministry,
The world he pointed to Thy blood,
And turned whole multitudes to Thee;
Others he saved, himself a prey
To hell, an hopeless castaway.
“Murderer of souls, Thou knowest, he lives.(Poor souls for whom Thyself hast died,)His dreadful punishment receives,And bears the mark of sullen pride;And furious lusts his bosom tear,And the dire worm of sad despair.
“Murderer of souls, Thou knowest, he lives.
(Poor souls for whom Thyself hast died,)
His dreadful punishment receives,
And bears the mark of sullen pride;
And furious lusts his bosom tear,
And the dire worm of sad despair.
“Condemned, like haggard Cain, to rove,By Satan and himself pursued,Apostate from redeeming love,Abandoned to the curse of God;Thou hear’st the vagabond complain,Loud howling, while he bites his chain.
“Condemned, like haggard Cain, to rove,
By Satan and himself pursued,
Apostate from redeeming love,
Abandoned to the curse of God;
Thou hear’st the vagabond complain,
Loud howling, while he bites his chain.
“But O, Thou righteous God, how longShall Thy vindictive anger last?Canst Thou not yet forgive the wrong,Bid all his penal woes be past?All power, all mercy as Thou art,O break his adamantine heart!
“But O, Thou righteous God, how long
Shall Thy vindictive anger last?
Canst Thou not yet forgive the wrong,
Bid all his penal woes be past?
All power, all mercy as Thou art,
O break his adamantine heart!
“Before the yawning cavern closeIts mouth on its devoted prey,Thou, who hast died to save Thy foes,Thy death’s omnipotence display;And snatch from that eternal fire,And let him in Thy arms expire.”
“Before the yawning cavern close
Its mouth on its devoted prey,
Thou, who hast died to save Thy foes,
Thy death’s omnipotence display;
And snatch from that eternal fire,
And let him in Thy arms expire.”
It would be an odious task to relate all the details of Westley Hall’s sad apostasy. Suffice to say, that he, at length, went off to the West Indies with one of his concubines, lived there with her till she died, and then returned to England, where, professing penitential sorrow, he was cordially received by his incomparable wife, who showed him every Christian attention till his death, which took place at Bristol, on January 3, 1776; some of his last words being, “I have injured an angel! an angel that never reproached me!” Wesley writes:—
“1776, January 2—Tuesday. I set out early” from London, “and came just time enough not to see, but to bury poor Mr. Hall, my brother-in-law,who died on Wednesday morning, I trust, in peace; for God had given him deep repentance. Such another monument of Divine mercy, considering how low he had fallen, and from what height of holiness, I have not seen, no, not in seventy years! I had designed to visit him in the morning; but he did not stay for my coming. It is enough, if, after all his wanderings, we meet again in Abraham’s bosom.”
“1776, January 2—Tuesday. I set out early” from London, “and came just time enough not to see, but to bury poor Mr. Hall, my brother-in-law,who died on Wednesday morning, I trust, in peace; for God had given him deep repentance. Such another monument of Divine mercy, considering how low he had fallen, and from what height of holiness, I have not seen, no, not in seventy years! I had designed to visit him in the morning; but he did not stay for my coming. It is enough, if, after all his wanderings, we meet again in Abraham’s bosom.”
“Requiescat in pace!” And yet, justice demands that a word more be added. The fact cannot be denied, that, in many instances, the faults of husbands may be traced to the tempers, frailties, and follies of their wives. A bad wife often makes a good husband bad. Was this the fact in the case of Westley Hall? Did the man who, at Oxford, was so pre-eminently holy, become a licentious infidel through the misbehaviour of his wife? This is not a memoir of “Patty” Hall; but to be entirely silent concerning her might create suspicion, that, she was not unblamable in her connubial life. Hence, even at the expense of returning to the dunghill of Westley Hall’s disgusting wickedness, a few more facts must be stated.
Assuming Martha Wesley to have been aware, that, Westley Hall had proposed marriage to her sister Kezziah, and had jilted her, it was a huge, seriously censurable imprudence for her to become his wife; but that being said, there is not another fact to be told against her. What was her behaviour to one of the worst of husbands?
The seduction of the seamstress has been already mentioned. Mrs. Hall knew nothing of her husband’s criminality till the poor girl actually fell in labour. Hall had gone from home; his wife instantly ordered her other servants to call in a doctor. The servants refused. She remonstrated with them on their inhumanity. They completed her surprise by telling her the seamstress was in labour through her criminal connection with their master. The poor wife was terribly wounded; but the life of her husband’s paramour was in danger. The servants refused to stir, and she herself had to bring in a midwife. Her purse contained six pounds. Five of these she gave to a neighbour to look after the adulterous young mother; with the other pound, she went off to seek her worthless husband, who had designedly gone to London; mildly told him what had happened, and actually persuaded him toreturn to Salisbury as soon as the young woman and her child could be removed to another dwelling.
Another instance must be given. One day, Hall had the shameful inhumanity to bring home one of his illegitimate infants, and to order his wife to take charge of it. Will it be believed, that “Patty” actually brought out her cradle, placed the bastard babe in it, and continued to perform for it all that its helplessness required!
Was the woman demented? or a good-tempered silly fool, without any self-respect, and without the least idea of what was due unto herself? Not so; but just the opposite. As a proof of this, the following may be given:—
While nursing the illegitimate child just mentioned, her own charming boy, Wesley Hall, displeased his father, who had as little government of his temper as of his passions. In a rage, the father thrust his son into a dark closet, and locked him up. The poor boy was terrified to distraction. His mother, with her usual calmness, desired her husband to release the child. He refused. She entreated; but he was resolute. “Sir,” said she, at length thoroughly aroused; “Sir, thank the grace of God, that, whilemychild is thus cruelly treated, suffering to distraction a punishment he has not merited, I had not turnedyourbabe out of the cradle; but now Idemand, that you will immediately unlock the closet and release the child, or, if you refuse, I myself will do it.” The miserable poltroon succumbed, and the little prisoner regained his liberty. There was more in this than female firmness. Caitiff as he was, Hall had exercised the authority of a father, and his wife did her utmost not to set aside that authority; wishing, with true philosophy, that the lips which had pronounced the sentence might pronounce also its repeal. The woman, taking and maintaining this position, was the very opposite of a senseless, insipid household drudge, without either mind or manners, a very slave to some selfish brute who unfortunately rules over her.
If “Patty” Wesley,—we are reluctant to call her “Patty” Hall,—erred at all, it was on the side of fidelity to her worthless husband, and of kindness to his wretched mistresses. “How could you give money to your husband’s concubine?” asked her brother Charles. “I knew,” she answered, “thatIcouldobtain what I wanted from many; but she, poor hapless creature, could not.Pityis due to the wicked, the good claimesteem. Besides, I did not act as awoman, but as aChristian.”
Notwithstanding all her bad treatment, this incomparable wife was never heard to speak of her husband but with kindness. Two extracts from her letters will show both her feelings and good sense, under circumstances the most trying to a female mind:—
“Being convinced, that, I cannot possibly oblige you any longer, by anything I can say or do, I have determined to rid you of so useless a burden, as soon as it shall please God to give me an opportunity. If you have so much humanity left for a wife, who has lived so many years with you, as to allow anything toward a maintenance, I will thank you.”“I conjure you to tell what fatal delusion could make me offend a person whom, of all creatures upon earth, I desired most to please. I shall be exceedingly obliged to you, if you will be so good as to satisfy me in this particular. But, be that as it may, whether you think fit to grant or deny my request, one thing I must inform you of, which is, that, I never can, so long as I am in my senses, wilfully bring any evil upon you. No, death itself does not appear so shocking to me, as endeavouring to lay you under any other obligation than those of conscience and honour. For which reason, I design to put myself again absolutely in your power. If you make a kind use of that power, I shall thank God and you. If not, the time is very short that I can stay on this side the grave; and in the same sentiments that I have lived, I trust, it will be given me to die.”
“Being convinced, that, I cannot possibly oblige you any longer, by anything I can say or do, I have determined to rid you of so useless a burden, as soon as it shall please God to give me an opportunity. If you have so much humanity left for a wife, who has lived so many years with you, as to allow anything toward a maintenance, I will thank you.”
“I conjure you to tell what fatal delusion could make me offend a person whom, of all creatures upon earth, I desired most to please. I shall be exceedingly obliged to you, if you will be so good as to satisfy me in this particular. But, be that as it may, whether you think fit to grant or deny my request, one thing I must inform you of, which is, that, I never can, so long as I am in my senses, wilfully bring any evil upon you. No, death itself does not appear so shocking to me, as endeavouring to lay you under any other obligation than those of conscience and honour. For which reason, I design to put myself again absolutely in your power. If you make a kind use of that power, I shall thank God and you. If not, the time is very short that I can stay on this side the grave; and in the same sentiments that I have lived, I trust, it will be given me to die.”
It is hardly necessary to give further details of this memorable woman. Enough has been said, to show, that, Westley Hall’s infamous behaviour was not owing to the character or conduct of his wife. We only add an extract from a manuscript, now before us, written by her niece, Miss Sarah Wesley, with whom she lived on the most loving and confidential terms. Miss Wesley, daughter of Charles, observes:—
“Dr. Johnson was an early friend of hers; to her my father owed his acquaintance with the Doctor, and I, the honour of his favour. I used to accompany her to Bolt Court, and had the privilege of hearing their discourse.“Her whole character was eminent for magnanimity and tenderness. When her unfortunate husband contended for the lawfulness of polygamy, and acted on his erroneous principles, in all her expostulations, she never lost her command of language, or gave him a reproachful word.“She was particularly distinguished with favour, by my grandmother, for her docile and tranquil spirit; and her brothers and sisters nick-named her the patientGrisele. Such was her attachment to my uncle John, that, if she was in any pain or trouble in her infant days, the sight of him would instantly cheer her. I never heard of so strong an affection, which lasted toward him through life. My grandmother once entered the room, where the children were in high glee and frolic, and said, ‘Ah, you will all, one day, be more thoughtful, as you grow in years.’ Martha replied, ‘Shall I be more thoughtful?’ ‘No,’ said her mother. Indeed, by all that I have heard, she was born a philosopher, and preferred her mother’s chamber to sports or recreations, which naturally endeared her to the parent, whom she almost idolized.“Were I to relate the instances of her kindness to me, I could fill a book. No parent’s love could exceed hers. It was a joyful day whenever I was to spend it with her. Even my brothers looked forward with delightful anticipation, when her weekly visit was to be paid us (for one day of the week was appropriated by my father to receive her). Her conversation so far resembled my uncle’s, that, children idolized her; and her memory, to the last, supplied the place of books. She had the best of our poets by heart; and her mode of giving advice was so gentle, that offence could not be taken. Her compassion and charity to the poor were such, that, my father used to say, it was needless to give anything to Pat for her own comfort; she always gave it away to some beggar, and forgot herself.“I was with her at her death. Composed and tranquil, she reasoned about every pain, as occasioning it, with the same serenity she would have spoken of common things. She had no disease, but the springs of life were worn out. A little before her departure, she called me to her bedside, and said, ‘You have heard me wish for assurance,’ (of happiness, she meant), ‘I have it now. Shout!’ and died!”
“Dr. Johnson was an early friend of hers; to her my father owed his acquaintance with the Doctor, and I, the honour of his favour. I used to accompany her to Bolt Court, and had the privilege of hearing their discourse.
“Her whole character was eminent for magnanimity and tenderness. When her unfortunate husband contended for the lawfulness of polygamy, and acted on his erroneous principles, in all her expostulations, she never lost her command of language, or gave him a reproachful word.
“She was particularly distinguished with favour, by my grandmother, for her docile and tranquil spirit; and her brothers and sisters nick-named her the patientGrisele. Such was her attachment to my uncle John, that, if she was in any pain or trouble in her infant days, the sight of him would instantly cheer her. I never heard of so strong an affection, which lasted toward him through life. My grandmother once entered the room, where the children were in high glee and frolic, and said, ‘Ah, you will all, one day, be more thoughtful, as you grow in years.’ Martha replied, ‘Shall I be more thoughtful?’ ‘No,’ said her mother. Indeed, by all that I have heard, she was born a philosopher, and preferred her mother’s chamber to sports or recreations, which naturally endeared her to the parent, whom she almost idolized.
“Were I to relate the instances of her kindness to me, I could fill a book. No parent’s love could exceed hers. It was a joyful day whenever I was to spend it with her. Even my brothers looked forward with delightful anticipation, when her weekly visit was to be paid us (for one day of the week was appropriated by my father to receive her). Her conversation so far resembled my uncle’s, that, children idolized her; and her memory, to the last, supplied the place of books. She had the best of our poets by heart; and her mode of giving advice was so gentle, that offence could not be taken. Her compassion and charity to the poor were such, that, my father used to say, it was needless to give anything to Pat for her own comfort; she always gave it away to some beggar, and forgot herself.
“I was with her at her death. Composed and tranquil, she reasoned about every pain, as occasioning it, with the same serenity she would have spoken of common things. She had no disease, but the springs of life were worn out. A little before her departure, she called me to her bedside, and said, ‘You have heard me wish for assurance,’ (of happiness, she meant), ‘I have it now. Shout!’ and died!”
Mrs. Hall was the last survivor of the Wesley family,—her father, mother, brothers, and sisters having all died before her. In theGentleman’s Magazinefor 1791, there is the following obituary notice.
“1791. July 12, in the City Road, in her eighty-fourth year, Mrs. Martha Hall, widow of the Rev. Mr. H., and last surviving sister of the Rev. John and Charles Wesley. She was equally distinguished by piety, understanding, and sweetness of temper. Her sympathy for the wretched, and her bounty, even to the worthless, will eternize her memory in better worlds than this.”
“1791. July 12, in the City Road, in her eighty-fourth year, Mrs. Martha Hall, widow of the Rev. Mr. H., and last surviving sister of the Rev. John and Charles Wesley. She was equally distinguished by piety, understanding, and sweetness of temper. Her sympathy for the wretched, and her bounty, even to the worthless, will eternize her memory in better worlds than this.”
Her remains are interred in the same vault as those of her brother John, in the burial ground of his chapel, in City Road, London.
Our story of the Oxford Methodists is ended.