1759.
1759Age 56
WESLEY begun the year 1759 at Bristol. On January 10, he left for London, where he continued the next six weeks. At this period, the nation was in great excitement, arising from the threatened invasion of the French; and the 16th of February was appointed to be observed as a public fast. On that day, Wesley preached, at five in the morning, at Wandsworth; at nine and at three, in the church at Spitalfields; and at half-past eight, in the Foundery. At the last mentioned service, Lady Huntingdon was present.
Her ladyship, feeling the peril of the country, instituted a series of prayer-meeting in her own mansion, which were conducted by Whitefield, by the two Wesleys, and by Messrs. Venn, Romaine, Madan, Jones, Fletcher, Downing, and Maxfield; and at which, among others, there were present the Earl and Countess of Dartmouth, the Earl and Countess of Chesterfield, Sir Charles and Lady Hotham, Mrs. Carteret, Mrs. Cavendish, and other persons of distinction.[350]This, to Wesley, was a new kind of congregation; but he writes: “O what are the greatest men to the great God? As the small dust of the balance.” Charles Wesley says of the service, which was principally conducted by his brother: “All the ministers prayed in turn. It was a most blessed time of refreshment. My brother preached, and won all our hearts. I never liked him better, and was never more united to him, since his unhappy marriage.”[351]
On the 1st of March, Wesley set out for Norwich, taking Everton and Colchester on his way. He wrote to Lady Huntingdon as follows.
“The agreeable hour, which I spent with your ladyship, the last week, recalled to my mind the former times, and gave me much matter of thankfulness to the Giver of every good gift. I have found great satisfaction in conversing with those instruments whom God has lately raisedup. But still, there is I know not what in them whom we have known from the beginning, and who have borne the burden and heat of the day, which we do not find in those who have risen up since, though they are of upright heart. Perhaps too, those who have but lately come into the harvest are led to think and speak more largely of justification, and the other first principles of the doctrine of Christ. And it may be proper forthemso to do. Yetwefind a thirst after something farther. We want to sink deeper and rise higher in the knowledge of God our Saviour. We want all helps for walking closely with Him whom we have received, that we may the more speedily come to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.“Mr. Berridge seems to be one of the most simple, as well as most sensible, men of all whom it pleased God to employ in reviving primitive Christianity. They come now twelve or fourteen miles to hear him. His word is with power: he speaks as plain and home as John Nelson, but with all the propriety of Mr. Romaine, and the tenderness of Mr. Hervey.“At Colchester, likewise, the word of God has free course—only no house will contain the congregation. On Sunday, I was obliged to preach on St. John’s Green; the people stood on a smooth sloping ground, sheltered by the walls of an old castle, and behaved as men who felt that God was there.“I am persuaded your ladyship still remembers, in your prayers, your willing servant, for Christ’s sake,“John Wesley.”[352]
“The agreeable hour, which I spent with your ladyship, the last week, recalled to my mind the former times, and gave me much matter of thankfulness to the Giver of every good gift. I have found great satisfaction in conversing with those instruments whom God has lately raisedup. But still, there is I know not what in them whom we have known from the beginning, and who have borne the burden and heat of the day, which we do not find in those who have risen up since, though they are of upright heart. Perhaps too, those who have but lately come into the harvest are led to think and speak more largely of justification, and the other first principles of the doctrine of Christ. And it may be proper forthemso to do. Yetwefind a thirst after something farther. We want to sink deeper and rise higher in the knowledge of God our Saviour. We want all helps for walking closely with Him whom we have received, that we may the more speedily come to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.
“Mr. Berridge seems to be one of the most simple, as well as most sensible, men of all whom it pleased God to employ in reviving primitive Christianity. They come now twelve or fourteen miles to hear him. His word is with power: he speaks as plain and home as John Nelson, but with all the propriety of Mr. Romaine, and the tenderness of Mr. Hervey.
“At Colchester, likewise, the word of God has free course—only no house will contain the congregation. On Sunday, I was obliged to preach on St. John’s Green; the people stood on a smooth sloping ground, sheltered by the walls of an old castle, and behaved as men who felt that God was there.
“I am persuaded your ladyship still remembers, in your prayers, your willing servant, for Christ’s sake,
“John Wesley.”[352]
Such was Wesley’s critique upon the converted clergymen with whom he had been recently associated. One of them, a young man, died three years after this, and deserves a passing notice.
The Rev. Thomas Jones, A.M., of St. Saviour’s, Southwark, was now in the thirtieth year of his age. Eight years before, he had been converted, and had begun to preach, with great eloquence and power, the truth which he himself had been brought to experience. His health was feeble; but his ministry was mighty. His zeal was greater than his strength, and frequently provoked the opposition of his enemies. He began to read prayers and to expound the Scriptures, in the chapel of an almshouse in his parish; but the chapel was closed against him. He set up a weekly lecture in his church; but, before long, the use of the pulpit, for that purpose, was denied to him. He carried religioustracts and books to all his parishioners; and catechized children once a week, in his own private residence. In his thirty-third year, a fever seized him; and, after seven days’ illness, he died triumphantly on the 6th of June, 1762, leaving a young widow to bewail her loss. As a preacher, he was too earnest to be polished, and was far more wishful, that his hearers should be benefited by the demonstration of the Spirit and of power, than that they should be merely pleased with the excellency of speech or wisdom. He writes: “I seldom begin to compose my sermons till Saturday in the afternoon, and often not till late in the evening. I have such a variety of business on my hands, that I can never find time to smooth my language, nor to embellish my discourses with pretty conceits, but am obliged to send them abroad into the worldin puris naturalibus.”[353]
The following is an extract from a letter, written to Wesley, by this young clergyman, three weeks after the holding of the intercession meetings in the house of the Countess of Huntingdon.
“Castle Street, Southwark,March 21, 1759.“Dear and honoured Sir,—I wish I knew how to express the sense I have of your kind and obliging notice of me. I can hardly expect a greater blessing, as to this world, than the offer you make me of your acquaintance. I hope the same gracious Father of all, who has induced you to make the proposal, will also enable you to give me such instructions as my youth and inexperience need. Let me beg all friendly admonition, all brotherly, yea fatherly, freedoms from you. I crave your fervent prayers, that I may be daily more humble,unaffectedly humble, dead to the world and self, and alive unto our dear redeeming God.“I am, with many thanks, and great respect, dear and honoured sir, your affectionate and obliged brother in Christ Jesus,“Thomas Jones.”[354]
“Castle Street, Southwark,March 21, 1759.
“Dear and honoured Sir,—I wish I knew how to express the sense I have of your kind and obliging notice of me. I can hardly expect a greater blessing, as to this world, than the offer you make me of your acquaintance. I hope the same gracious Father of all, who has induced you to make the proposal, will also enable you to give me such instructions as my youth and inexperience need. Let me beg all friendly admonition, all brotherly, yea fatherly, freedoms from you. I crave your fervent prayers, that I may be daily more humble,unaffectedly humble, dead to the world and self, and alive unto our dear redeeming God.
“I am, with many thanks, and great respect, dear and honoured sir, your affectionate and obliged brother in Christ Jesus,
“Thomas Jones.”[354]
On the 6th of March, Wesley came to Norwich, where he continued until April 2. Norwich had become a Methodist station of great importance. Already, Wesley had converted an old foundery into a meeting-house, and now he occupied James Wheatley’s chapel. Wheatley’s society, once consisting of hundreds of members, had mouldered into nothing.Of the fifteen or sixteen hundred persons who had beenpayingseatholders, not one was left; but every one that pleased went into the seats without any questions asked. “Everything,” says Wesley, “was to be wrought out of the ore, or rather out of the cinders.”
Difficulties never discouraged, but rather made Wesley daring. He preached morning and evening in the Foundery; and, in less than a week, gathered a society of one hundred; and, in less than a month, by one means and another—by the recovery of Wheatley’s lost sheep, and by fresh conversions—that society was increased to nearly six hundred persons; and Wesley believed that, if he could have remained a fortnight longer, it would have become a thousand.[355]He instituted classes, and did his best to discipline the members. At society meetings, he required every one to show his ticket on entering. He insisted, that the men and women should sit apart, a regulation that appeared novel, if not harsh, among those who had been the loving lambs of James Wheatley’s flock. He also found that, from the first, it had been a custom, in Wheatley’s chapel, to have the galleries full of spectators while the Lord’s supper was administered. This he judged to be highly improper; and, therefore, ordered that none should be admitted, but those who desired to communicate. The only concession which he made to existing prejudices was this. He writes: “as a considerable part of them were Dissenters, I desired every one to use what posture he judged best. Had I required them to kneel, probably half would have sat: now all but one kneeled down.” Such was the beginning of Wesley’s society at Norwich. It will often require notice in succeeding pages. Wesley wrote as follows to his friend, Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell.
“Norwich,March 12, 1759.“Dear Sir,—I know not, if, in all my life, I have had so critical a work on my hands, as that wherein I am now engaged. I am endeavouring to gather up those who were once gathered together, and afterwards scattered, by James Wheatley. I have reunited about seventy of them, and hope this evening to make up a hundred. But many of them have wonderful spirits; having been always accustomed to teach their teachers; so that how they will bear any kind of discipline, I cannot tell.“At Colchester, the case is far otherwise. About a hundred and sixty simple, upright people are there united together, who are as little children, minding nothing but the salvation of their souls; only, they are greatly distressed for a larger house. I desired them to look out for a piece of ground. It is true, they are poor enough; but, if it be God’s work, He will provide the means.“I remain, dear sir, your very affectionate servant,“John Wesley.”[356]
“Norwich,March 12, 1759.
“Dear Sir,—I know not, if, in all my life, I have had so critical a work on my hands, as that wherein I am now engaged. I am endeavouring to gather up those who were once gathered together, and afterwards scattered, by James Wheatley. I have reunited about seventy of them, and hope this evening to make up a hundred. But many of them have wonderful spirits; having been always accustomed to teach their teachers; so that how they will bear any kind of discipline, I cannot tell.
“At Colchester, the case is far otherwise. About a hundred and sixty simple, upright people are there united together, who are as little children, minding nothing but the salvation of their souls; only, they are greatly distressed for a larger house. I desired them to look out for a piece of ground. It is true, they are poor enough; but, if it be God’s work, He will provide the means.
“I remain, dear sir, your very affectionate servant,
“John Wesley.”[356]
Colchester was evidently a favourite place; but it is only fair to add, that many of the hundred and sixty Methodists were either expelled, or seceding, Dissenters. Some of them had never had the rite of baptism administered; and it is a fact worth noticing, that, during this very visit, Wesley baptized seven of them, all adults, and two of them by dipping.
Having spent a month at Norwich, Wesley, on April 2, set out on his long journey to the north.
At Boston, in Lincolnshire, he found a small society, and a more unawakened and rude congregation than he had seen for years. From Boston, he “rode over the fens, fifteen miles broad, and near thirty miles long,” to Coningsby, where he had “a numerous congregation, of a far different spirit.” At Horncastle, he was roughly saluted by a mob. At Grimsby, he preached in the old churchyard; at Epworth, in the new chapel, and in the market-place; and at Selby, in a garden. At York, he opened the new unfinished chapel in Peasholm Green, and visited two prisoners in the castle, “the most commodious prison in Europe.” At Tadcaster, he had a well behaved congregation in a garden. At Stainland, he preached in a handsome chapel, “near the top of a mountain,” his friend Grimshaw reading prayers. At Manchester, “wretched magistrates, by refusing to suppress, had encouraged the rioters, and had long occasioned tumults: but some were now of a better spirit.” At Maxfield, “abundance of people ran together, but wild as colts untamed. Before he had done, all but four or five lubberly men seemed almost persuaded to be Christians.” At Stockport, where Methodist meetings were held in a thatched shedbelonging to William Williamson, Wesley preached on Pettycar Green, the shed being far too small to contain his congregation. The society was small, and could send only half a sovereign as its quarterage to the Manchester circuit meeting; but, soon afterwards, Matthew Mayer and other persons of respectability were converted; and old Hillgate chapel was erected, the pulpit of which James Chadwick carried upon his shoulders, a distance of nine miles, from a place near Altrincham. This humble edifice, without gallery and without pews, was opened by Grimshaw of Haworth; and Methodism in Stockport was permanently founded.[357]
From Stockport, Wesley proceeded to Northwich, Chester, and Mold in Wales. At Liverpool, the congregations were exceeding large; but many of the people “seemed to be like wild asses’ colts.” He made his way to Wigan, Bolton, Lancaster, Whitehaven, Cockermouth, Wigton, Dumfries, and Glasgow. At the last mentioned place, he found the little society, which he had formed, two years ago, all split to pieces. He tried to reorganise the members, and left about forty, who agreed to meet Mr. Gillies weekly. “If this be done,” says Wesley, “I shall try to see Glasgow again: if not, I can employ my time better.”
Leaving Glasgow, he went to Edinburgh, Musselburgh, and Dunbar. At Berwick, he preached to “a drowsy congregation” in the town hall; at Alnwick, in the court house, to a congregation “having the power as well as the form of godliness.” On reaching Newcastle, June 5, he wrote: “Certainly, if I did not believe there was another world, I should spend all my summers here; as I know no place in Great Britain comparable to it for pleasantness. But I seek another country, and, therefore, am content to be a wanderer upon earth.” Concerning Gateshead, he says: “In earnestness, the colliers of Gateshead utterly shame the colliers of Kingswood; scarce thirty of whom think it worth while to hear the word of God on a weekday, not even when I preach: and here the house will scarce contain the weekday congregation of a local preacher.”
It was during this northern visit, that Wesley opened thefirst Methodist chapel in Sunderland. He writes: “Saturday, June 9—“I rode to Sunderland, and preached in the shell of their house. The people are hungry for the word, and receive it with all gladness.” Hitherto, the Sunderland Methodists had worshipped in a small room at the top of Swine Alley; and then in a house in Ettrick’s Garth, where, for the first time, they had space enough to set up a lilliputian pulpit, which, with the benches of the place, was threatened to be sold by auction for an arrear of rent, amounting to about £3, and was only saved by the prompt interference of Charles Askell, one of the first leaders, who advanced the sum out of his own pocket, though, by doing so, he deprived himself of the means of setting up housekeeping with Ann Lightfoot, whom he was about to marry, and who, with her mother, resided in a small cottage (Wesley’s home in Sunderland), in Playhouse Lane, maintaining themselves by sewing and by knitting.[358]
Wesley spent a month at Newcastle and in the immediate neighbourhood. At Chester-le-street, he “preached in Mr. Tinker’s yard, to a crowded audience,” saysLloyd’s Evening Post; “and after that made an oration at the meeting-house.” At Morpeth, he had a congregation of “officers, gentlemen, and common people, in the market-place, such as was never seen there before.” At North and at South Shields, the lions were become lambs. At Swalwell, he preached in a Dissenters’ chapel, with him a thing of rare occurrence. He held the quarterly meeting of the stewards, and found that there were in the Newcastle circuit about eighteen hundred members. In Newcastle itself, he not only preached in the Orphan House, but frequently out of doors, where his congregations were twice as large as the Orphan House could hold. He writes: “What marvel the devil does not love field preaching! Neither do I. I love a commodious room, a soft cushion, and a handsome pulpit. But where is my zeal, if I do not trample all these under foot, in order to save one more soul!” It was on one of these occasions, when preaching on the Exchange steps, that some of his congregation began to pelt him with mud and rotten eggs; but, at length, a fishwoman,big, burly, and drunken, and the terror of the neighbourhood in which she lived, ran up the steps, and threw one of her arms round Wesley’s neck, and shook the fist of the other in the face of Wesley’s cowardly assailants, and cried, “If ony yen o’ ye lift up another hand to touch ma canny man, ayl floor ye direckly.” The fishwife’s menace was quite enough, and Wesley was allowed to conclude in peace.[359]
On the 2nd of July, Wesley left Newcastle for London. On his way, he preached at Hartlepool, all the inhabitants of the town being present, either in the street or the adjoining houses, though “a queer, dirty, clumsy man, a country wit, took a great deal of pains to disturb the congregation.” At Stockton, in the midst of his service in the market-place, the press-gang came and seized his travelling companions, Joseph Jones and William Alwood, but afterwards released them, the mob, however, having, in the meanwhile, broken the lieutenant’s head and so stoned both him and his men, that, to save themselves from further injury, they ignominiously decamped. At Hutton-Rudby, he found that they had just built a preaching house. At Stokesley, he preached on the green; at Guisborough, in a meadow; at Robinhood’s Bay, on the quay; and at Scarborough, in the street. Thence, he went to York, Pocklington, and Hull. He writes: “I had a fine congregation at Hull. For once, the rich have the gospel preached.” On his way back to York, he preached in Mr. Hilton’s yard, at Beverley. At Tadcaster, distant thunder did not lessen the number of his congregation. At Otley, he preached to an immense multitude at the foot of a high mountain. At Guiseley, he was entertained at Mr. Marshal’s, “the Capua of Yorkshire.” At Keighley, he found “a loving, earnest, well established people.” He then proceeded to Colne, Heptonstall, and Haworth. At the last mentioned place, Mr. Milner read prayers, and Wesley preached, standing on a scaffold close to the church, and the congregation standing in the churchyard. After the service, “the communicants alone filled the church.” At a place near Huddersfield, he preached to “the wildest congregation he had seen in Yorkshire;” at Halifax, “the preaching house was likean oven”; at Bradford, he preached, not in the house, but at its door, “as it could not contain one half of the congregation”; at Morley, “a flame had suddenly broken out, where it was least of all expected, and was spreading wider and wider”; and at Birstal, the congregation nearly filled a field. At Sheffield, he was “desired to visit Mr. Dodge, curate of the new church, and found him on the brink of eternity, rejoicing in God his Saviour.” At Rotherham, he conversed with eleven persons who believed themselves to be entirely sanctified. At Gainsborough, he preached to “a rude, wild multitude, in Sir Nevil Hickman’s great hall,” and was thanked by Sir Nevil for his sermon. At North Scarle, he had a great multitude to hear him; but, though he “spoke as plainly as he could, on the first principles of religion, many seemed to understand him no more than if he was talking Greek.”
On Sunday, August 5, he reached Everton, “faint and weary”; attended the morning and afternoon services in Mr. Berridge’s church, where several “cried out aloud, not from sorrow or fear, but love and joy.” At night, he preached in Mr. Hicks’s church, at Wrestlingworth, and “two or three fell to the ground, and were extremely convulsed; while one or two were filled with strong consolation.” He “talked with Ann Thorn, and two others, who had been several times in trances”; and Berridge took him to Alice Miller, a girl fifteen years of age, whom he found “sitting on a stool, and leaning against a wall, with her eyes open and fixed upward.” He made a motion as if about to strike her, but her eyes remained unmoved. Tears stole down her cheeks; her face was stamped with reverence and love; her lips were open, but not a word was uttered. In about half an hour, her countenance changed into the form of fear, pity, and distress; she burst into a flood of tears, and cried, “They will all be damned!” In five minutes, her smiles returned; this was followed by an exhibition of distress, when she again exclaimed, “They will go to hell! Cry aloud! Spare not!” After remaining in this state for some hours, “her senses returned.” Wesley asked, “Where have you been?” She answered, “With my Saviour.” “Why did you cry?” “Not for myself, but for the world; for I saw they were on the brink of hell.” This isa strange story, which Wesley leaves, as he leaves many more, without comment. On August 7, he got back to London.
Before proceeding farther, the following extract from a letter, which Berridge wrote to Wesley three weeks before his visit, will not be out of place, and will furnish the reader with “an idea of the wonderful work and scenes witnessed at Everton, and in the surrounding country.”
“July 16, 1759.“Dear Sir,—Mr. Hicks and myself have been preaching in the fields for this month past, and the power of the Lord is wonderfully present with the word. Near twenty towns have received the gospel in a greater or less degree; and we continually receive fresh invitations, whenever we go out. The word is everywhere like a hammer, breaking the rock in pieces. People fall down, cry out most bitterly, and struggle so vehemently, that five or six men can scarce hold them. It is wonderful to see how the fear of the Lord falls even upon unawakened sinners. When we enter a new village, the people stare, and laugh, and rail abundantly; but when we have preached night and morning, and they have heard the outcries of wounded sinners, they seem as much alarmed as if the French were at their doors. As soon as three or four receive convictions in a village, they are desired to meet together two or three nights in a week, which they readily comply with. At first, they only sing; afterwards they join reading and prayer to singing; and the presence of the Lord is greatly with them. Let me mention two instances. At Orwell, ten people were broken down in one night, only by hearing a few people sing hymns. At Grandchester, a mile from Cambridge, seventeen people were seized with strong convictions last week, only by hearing hymns sung. When societies get a little strength and courage, they begin to read and pray, and then the Lord magnifies His love as well as power amongst them by releasing souls out of bondage.“Of late, there has been a wonderful outpouring of the spirit of love among believers; insomuch, that they have fainted under it, fallen down, and lain upon the ground, as dead, for some hours; their bodies being so weakened by these transports of joy, that they have not been able to endure hard labour for days afterwards.“I would not have you publish the account of A. T. It might only prejudice people against the Lord’s work in this place. I find our friends in town begin to be in great pain about the work. They are very slow of heart to believe what they do not see with their own eyes. Give my love to Mr. Grimshaw, and John Nelson; and believe me your affectionate servant for Christ’s sake,“John Berridge.”[360]
“July 16, 1759.
“Dear Sir,—Mr. Hicks and myself have been preaching in the fields for this month past, and the power of the Lord is wonderfully present with the word. Near twenty towns have received the gospel in a greater or less degree; and we continually receive fresh invitations, whenever we go out. The word is everywhere like a hammer, breaking the rock in pieces. People fall down, cry out most bitterly, and struggle so vehemently, that five or six men can scarce hold them. It is wonderful to see how the fear of the Lord falls even upon unawakened sinners. When we enter a new village, the people stare, and laugh, and rail abundantly; but when we have preached night and morning, and they have heard the outcries of wounded sinners, they seem as much alarmed as if the French were at their doors. As soon as three or four receive convictions in a village, they are desired to meet together two or three nights in a week, which they readily comply with. At first, they only sing; afterwards they join reading and prayer to singing; and the presence of the Lord is greatly with them. Let me mention two instances. At Orwell, ten people were broken down in one night, only by hearing a few people sing hymns. At Grandchester, a mile from Cambridge, seventeen people were seized with strong convictions last week, only by hearing hymns sung. When societies get a little strength and courage, they begin to read and pray, and then the Lord magnifies His love as well as power amongst them by releasing souls out of bondage.
“Of late, there has been a wonderful outpouring of the spirit of love among believers; insomuch, that they have fainted under it, fallen down, and lain upon the ground, as dead, for some hours; their bodies being so weakened by these transports of joy, that they have not been able to endure hard labour for days afterwards.
“I would not have you publish the account of A. T. It might only prejudice people against the Lord’s work in this place. I find our friends in town begin to be in great pain about the work. They are very slow of heart to believe what they do not see with their own eyes. Give my love to Mr. Grimshaw, and John Nelson; and believe me your affectionate servant for Christ’s sake,
“John Berridge.”[360]
The work and its accompaniments at Everton createdanxiety in London. No wonder. Twenty years previously, the same sort of scenes had been witnessed at Bristol, Kingswood, and Newcastle. Thoughtful and even religious people disliked them; but what then? Were they altogether fanatical, the work of the devil, and intended to injure the work of God? Many thought so; but Wesley did not. After narrating what he saw at Everton, he writes: “I have generally observed more or less of these outward symptoms to attend the beginning of a general work of God; so it was in New England, Scotland, 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 respect; they should choose nothing, but leave entirely to Him all the circumstances of His own work.”
On the 8th of August, the day after his arrival in London, Wesley opened the annual conference of his preachers, which lasted the next three days. Almost the whole time was spent “in examining whether the spirit and lives of the preachers were suitable to their profession.” The conference throughout was marked with great unanimity and love.
Three weeks were spent in London and its neighbourhood; and then Wesley set out for Norwich, taking Everton on his way. He again preached in the church of his friend Berridge. He writes: “I went to the church unusually heavy, and hardly expecting to do any good. I preached on these words in the second lesson, ‘We know that we are of God.’ One sunk down, and another, and another. Some cried aloud in agony of prayer. I would willingly have spent some time in prayer with them; but my voice failed, so that I was obliged to conclude the service, leaving many in the church, crying and praying, but unable either to walk or stand.”
Arriving at Norwich, Wesley found that, in taking Wheatley’s chapel and congregation, he had not taken an unmixed comfort. He says: “August 30—I preached to a large, rude, noisy congregation. I took knowledge what manner of teachers they had been accustomed to, and determined to mend them or end them. Accordingly, the next evening, after sermon, I reminded them of two things: the one, that it was not decent to begin talking aloud as soon as service wasended, and hurrying to and fro, as in a bear garden; the other, that it was a bad custom to gather into knots just after sermon, and turn a place of worship into a coffee house. I, therefore, desired that none would talk under that roof, but go quietly and silently away. And on Sunday, September 2, I had the pleasure to observe, that all went as quietly away, as if they had been accustomed to it for many years.”
So far, so good. Having mended the bad manners of the Norwich congregation, his next effort was to mend the society. He found, that there were about five hundred members; but a hundred and fifty of those did not even pretend to meet in class at all; and the rest were very far from being what they ought to be. “I told them,” says he, “in plain terms, that they were the most ignorant, self conceited, self willed, fickle, untractable, disorderly, disjointed society, that I knew in the three kingdoms. And God applied it to their hearts; so that many were profited; but I do not find that one was offended.” Such was Wesley’s method of mending or ending James Wheatley’s “lambs” at Norwich.
Having spent eleven days at Norwich, Wesley returned to London, preaching at Colchester on his way, where, for the first time, since he was six years old, he had a sleepless night. “But,” he writes, “it is all one: God is able to give strength, either with sleep or without it. I rose at my usual time, and preached at five, without any faintness or drowsiness.”
At the commencement of his ministry, Wesley and his Oxford friends seemed ostracised. All the clergy shunned them, and not a few railed against, and censured them. Now it began to be otherwise: Venn, Romaine, Madan, Jones, Walker, Milner, Grimshaw, Berridge, Hicks, and others were zealously and successfully preaching their grand old doctrine of justification by faithonly; and every year added to the number of their clerical adherents. During his northern journey, in 1759, Wesley formed a friendship with two who deserve a notice.
One of them was the Rev. Thomas Goodday, of Sunderland, in whose church, at Monkwearmouth, Wesley preached more than once in after years. The following extract fromone of Mr. Goodday’s letters to Wesley will afford a glimpse of his religious character.[361]
“Monkwearmouth,July 13, 1759.“Reverend and dear Sir,—Your kind letter reached me at a critical hour; and another favour, of the same nature, would be as refreshing to my soul as the dew of heaven to the parched glebe. Your seasonable hints are judicious and pertinent, and I shall endeavour to make them the rule of my future conduct. Your harmless, inoffensive, and good natured men are a very dangerous set of creatures; and such were most of my former associates. I have had enough to do also with theprudentchildren of this generation. They are perpetually pestering my ears with therational scheme, and would fain persuade me, that it can in no way conduce to the glory of God, nor my own interest, to deviate, in the least, from the old beaten track I have been so long accustomed to, both in thinking, preaching, and praying. They are often whispering, ‘The world will call you a fool.’ O when will it once be, that, in the cause of God, I can set my face as a flint against those two busy demons, false shame, and the fear of man? I would be a Christian; but I know I am a fool, a babe, a mere novice in the faith; and yet, if another should tell me so, I have so much of the old tinder left in me, as to take fire immediately. Whenever my wife and myself put up our petitions to the God of all mercy, it is our bounden duty never to leave out this,—that He would be pleased to preserve the life of Mr. John Wesley long, as a blessing to the nation.“I am, dear sir, your sincere and affectionate brother,“Thomas Goodday.”[362]
“Monkwearmouth,July 13, 1759.
“Reverend and dear Sir,—Your kind letter reached me at a critical hour; and another favour, of the same nature, would be as refreshing to my soul as the dew of heaven to the parched glebe. Your seasonable hints are judicious and pertinent, and I shall endeavour to make them the rule of my future conduct. Your harmless, inoffensive, and good natured men are a very dangerous set of creatures; and such were most of my former associates. I have had enough to do also with theprudentchildren of this generation. They are perpetually pestering my ears with therational scheme, and would fain persuade me, that it can in no way conduce to the glory of God, nor my own interest, to deviate, in the least, from the old beaten track I have been so long accustomed to, both in thinking, preaching, and praying. They are often whispering, ‘The world will call you a fool.’ O when will it once be, that, in the cause of God, I can set my face as a flint against those two busy demons, false shame, and the fear of man? I would be a Christian; but I know I am a fool, a babe, a mere novice in the faith; and yet, if another should tell me so, I have so much of the old tinder left in me, as to take fire immediately. Whenever my wife and myself put up our petitions to the God of all mercy, it is our bounden duty never to leave out this,—that He would be pleased to preserve the life of Mr. John Wesley long, as a blessing to the nation.
“I am, dear sir, your sincere and affectionate brother,
“Thomas Goodday.”[362]
Another clergyman, between whom and Wesley a friendship sprung up, was the Rev. Richard Conyers, LL.D., at this time thirty-four years of age, and vicar of Helmsley, where he diligently devoted himself to the work of improving the morals of his extensive parish. He instituted female schools, and began himself to instruct young men in arithmetic and the lower branches of the mathematics. He habituated the people to an attendance upon Divine service, in which they had been exceedingly remiss; and, for this purpose, introduced singing, which he encouraged by personal example.He adopted the practice of catechizing children and young people in the church; and, though his parish was ten miles wide, he left no part of it neglected, but regularly visited the most indigent and illiterate. He assembled, at his own house, companies of young men for prayer and religious improvement; and yet, all the while, he was not converted, and was in the greatest danger of becoming a Socinian. All men praised him, but he was not happy. To obtain peace of conscience, he fasted more frequently than had been his wont, and sometimes, at the altar in his church, signed, with his own blood, solemn covenants to devote himself to the service of his Maker, and to render himself acceptable to heaven by his sanctity. Still he was unhappy; but, at length, by reading the Scriptures, he was led to see the gospel plan of salvation, and, on Christmas day, 1758, trusted in Christ, and found peace. “I went up stairs and down again,” said he, “backwards and forwards in my room, clapping my hands for joy, and crying, ‘I have found Him; I have found Him, whom my soul loveth’; and, for a little time, whether in the body or out of it, I could hardly tell.” On the ensuing sabbath, Mr. Conyers publicly related his conversion in his parish church; and, at once, began to preach, “By grace are ye saved, through faith, not of works, lest any man should boast.” His preaching was now attended with marvellous success. The converts in the hamlets, in his widely extended parish, he formed into classes, men by themselves, women by themselves; and these into married and unmarried classes. At appointed times, he met them for spiritual communion; and, every day, at eleven o’clock, preached in some part of his parish. He erected a room, adjoining the parsonage, which was open every morning and evening for all who thought proper to attend his domestic worship; and the greater part of his personal and parochial income was devoted to the relief of poverty.
Such was good Dr. Conyers. Six months after his conversion, he wrote to Wesley as follows.
“Helmsley,July 9, 1759.“Reverend Sir,—I received your obliging letter yesterday, and sincerely thank you for your affectionate prayers to God for me. He has been pleased, I believe, to make you a noble instrument of promoting Hisglory; and great, I doubt not, will be your reward in heaven. May He still enable you to spread through all your societies the gospel of the blessed Jesus! May they all, like their great Master, be meek and lowly, humble, inoffensive; laying aside all warm disputations, which gender strife; all railings, bitterness, and false accusations! O sir, these rank weeds grow very fast, even in religious hearts. Let us watch and be sober. The fruits of God’s blessed Spirit will grow apace in a heart thus guarded by watchfulness and prayer. Humility and love, peace and joy, will be its constant visitants; it will be preserved from the power of sin, from the author of sin, from the consequences of sin; and will be carried on, under the protection of an almighty arm, step by step, through all difficulties and dangers, into the possession of an eternal life.“I am, dear sir, your affectionate friend and fellow servant,“Richard Conyers.”[363]
“Helmsley,July 9, 1759.
“Reverend Sir,—I received your obliging letter yesterday, and sincerely thank you for your affectionate prayers to God for me. He has been pleased, I believe, to make you a noble instrument of promoting Hisglory; and great, I doubt not, will be your reward in heaven. May He still enable you to spread through all your societies the gospel of the blessed Jesus! May they all, like their great Master, be meek and lowly, humble, inoffensive; laying aside all warm disputations, which gender strife; all railings, bitterness, and false accusations! O sir, these rank weeds grow very fast, even in religious hearts. Let us watch and be sober. The fruits of God’s blessed Spirit will grow apace in a heart thus guarded by watchfulness and prayer. Humility and love, peace and joy, will be its constant visitants; it will be preserved from the power of sin, from the author of sin, from the consequences of sin; and will be carried on, under the protection of an almighty arm, step by step, through all difficulties and dangers, into the possession of an eternal life.
“I am, dear sir, your affectionate friend and fellow servant,
“Richard Conyers.”[363]
A third clergyman, with whom Wesley commenced a correspondence in 1759, must be mentioned. The Hon. and Rev. Walter Shirley was a first cousin of the Countess of Huntingdon, in whose London mansion he became acquainted with the Methodistic leaders of the day. He was converted by the ministry of Venn, and held a Church living in Ireland. He was now thirty-three years old; his preaching was richly evangelical; and to convert sinners was the one object of his life. Cope, bishop of Clonfert, warned him to “lay aside his exceptionable doctrines,” and threatened to “proceed in the most effectual manner to suppress them.” “Menaces, my lord,” said Shirley, “between gentlemen, are illiberal; but when they cannot be put into execution, they are contemptible.” The Archbishop of Tuam knew how to respect him, and, more than once, treated the charges brought against him with well merited contempt. On one occasion, the curate of Loughrea came with an air of great importance, and with a certainty of ruining the intractable Methodist. “Oh, your grace,” exclaimed this weak headed curate, “I have such a circumstance to communicate to you,one that will astonish you!” “Indeed,” replied the archbishop, “what can it be?” “Why, my lord,” rejoined the curate with a solemn air, “Mr. Shirley wears white stockings.”[364]“Very anti-clerical, and very dreadful,” responded the waggish prelate: “does Mr. Shirley wear them over his boots?” “No, your grace.” “Well, sir,” added the archbishop, “the first time you find him with his stockings over his boots, pray inform me, and I shall deal with him accordingly.”[365]
The following is an extract from Shirley’s letter to Wesley in 1759.
“Loughrea,August 21, 1759.“Reverend and dear Sir,—Your obliging and truly Christian letter was welcome to my soul, ten thousand, thousand times; and brought a satisfaction, which could only be exceeded by the pleasure of a personal conversation with you. I am not without hope, that, when you shall think fit to visit those blessed seminaries of vital religion in this kingdom, of your own planting, you will take an opportunity of honouring this place, and more particularly my house, with the presence of one, whose labours in the gospel of my dear Master are so eminent. I highly honour and love Mr. Berridge, and Mr. Grimshaw. May God bless them with increasing success! And may He endue me with the same noble courage! What will you say, dear sir? Will you not give up every favourable opinion of so unworthy a minister as I am, when I inform you, that, though there are many under my charge, who confess they have been awakened, yet I dare not boast of any confirmed converts, through my preaching and ministry. I am now about to leave them for two or three months; being in a very bad state of health, and advised to go to Bath. Let me entreat your earnest prayers.“I am your affectionate brother,“Walter Shirley.”[366]
“Loughrea,August 21, 1759.
“Reverend and dear Sir,—Your obliging and truly Christian letter was welcome to my soul, ten thousand, thousand times; and brought a satisfaction, which could only be exceeded by the pleasure of a personal conversation with you. I am not without hope, that, when you shall think fit to visit those blessed seminaries of vital religion in this kingdom, of your own planting, you will take an opportunity of honouring this place, and more particularly my house, with the presence of one, whose labours in the gospel of my dear Master are so eminent. I highly honour and love Mr. Berridge, and Mr. Grimshaw. May God bless them with increasing success! And may He endue me with the same noble courage! What will you say, dear sir? Will you not give up every favourable opinion of so unworthy a minister as I am, when I inform you, that, though there are many under my charge, who confess they have been awakened, yet I dare not boast of any confirmed converts, through my preaching and ministry. I am now about to leave them for two or three months; being in a very bad state of health, and advised to go to Bath. Let me entreat your earnest prayers.
“I am your affectionate brother,
“Walter Shirley.”[366]
We must now come back to Wesley. On his return to London from Norwich, on September 14, he gave orders for the immediate repairing of West Street chapel, the main timbers of which were actually rotten. He rode to Canterbury, where his congregation included “two hundred soldiers, and a whole row of officers.” At Dover, he found a new chapel just finished, and opened it.
Returning to London, he preached, on September 23, to a vast congregation in Moorfields, and wrote: “Who can say the time for field preaching is over, while—(1) greater numbers than ever attend; (2) the converting, as well as convincing, power of God is eminently present with them?”
He then set out for Bristol. At Basingstoke, he preached “to a people slow of heart and dull of understanding.” He opened a new chapel at Whitchurch; and pronounced another at Salisbury “the most complete in England.” Here large numbers of the Hampshire militia attended preaching; but, he says, “it was as music to a horse; such brutish behaviour have I seldom seen.” At Bristol, he employed his leisure time in finishing the fourth volume of his sermons, “probably,” says he, “the last which I shall publish.” He walked to Knowle, a mile from Bristol, to see the French prisoners, eleven hundred of whom were lying on beds of straw, covered with thin rags, and in danger of dying. He went back, and the same night preached on, “Thou shalt not oppress a stranger; for ye know the heart of a stranger, seeing ye were strangers in the land of Egypt”; he made a collection of £24; and, out of this, bought some dozens of stockings, shirts, waistcoats, and breeches for the poor captives. Wesley was not content with this; but wrote the following letter, which was published inLloyd’s Evening Post, of October 26.
“Bristol,October 20, 1759.“Sir,—Since I came to Bristol, I heard many terrible accounts concerning the French prisoners at Knowle: as, ‘That they were so wedged together, that they had no room to breathe; that the stench of the rooms where they lodged was intolerable; that their food was only fit for dogs; that their meat was carrion, their bread rotten and unwholesome; and that, in consequence of this inhuman treatment, they died in shoals.’“Desiring to know the truth, I went to Knowle, and was showed all the apartments there. But how was I disappointed? 1. I found they had large and convenient space to walk in, if they chose it, all the day. 2.There was no stench in any apartment I was in, either below or above. They were all sweeter and cleaner than any prison I have seen either in England or elsewhere. 3. Being permitted to go into the larder, I observed the meat hanging up, two large quarters of beef. It was fresh and fat, and I verily think as good as ever I desire to eat. 4. A large quantity of bread lay on one side. A gentleman took up and cut one of the loaves. It was made of good flour, was well baked, and perfectly well tasted. 5. Going thence to the hospital, I found that, even in this sickly season, there are not thirty persons dangerously ill, out of twelve or thirteen hundred. 6. This hospital was sweeter and cleaner throughout, than any hospital I ever saw in London. I think it my duty to declare these things, for clearing the innocent, and the honour of the English nation.“Yet one thing I observed with concern. A great part of these poor men are almost naked: and winter is now coming upon them in a cold prison, and a colder climate than most of them have been accustomed to. But will not the humanity and generosity of the gentlemen of Bristol prevent or relieve this distress? Did they not make a noble precedent during the late war? And surely they are not weary of well doing. Tuesday night, we did a little according to our power; but I shall rejoice, if this be forgotten through the abundance administered by their liberality, in a manner which they judge most proper. Will it not be, both for the honour of the city and country, for the credit of our religion, and for the glory of God, who knows how to return it sevenfold into their bosom?“I am your humble servant,“John Wesley.”
“Bristol,October 20, 1759.
“Sir,—Since I came to Bristol, I heard many terrible accounts concerning the French prisoners at Knowle: as, ‘That they were so wedged together, that they had no room to breathe; that the stench of the rooms where they lodged was intolerable; that their food was only fit for dogs; that their meat was carrion, their bread rotten and unwholesome; and that, in consequence of this inhuman treatment, they died in shoals.’
“Desiring to know the truth, I went to Knowle, and was showed all the apartments there. But how was I disappointed? 1. I found they had large and convenient space to walk in, if they chose it, all the day. 2.
There was no stench in any apartment I was in, either below or above. They were all sweeter and cleaner than any prison I have seen either in England or elsewhere. 3. Being permitted to go into the larder, I observed the meat hanging up, two large quarters of beef. It was fresh and fat, and I verily think as good as ever I desire to eat. 4. A large quantity of bread lay on one side. A gentleman took up and cut one of the loaves. It was made of good flour, was well baked, and perfectly well tasted. 5. Going thence to the hospital, I found that, even in this sickly season, there are not thirty persons dangerously ill, out of twelve or thirteen hundred. 6. This hospital was sweeter and cleaner throughout, than any hospital I ever saw in London. I think it my duty to declare these things, for clearing the innocent, and the honour of the English nation.
“Yet one thing I observed with concern. A great part of these poor men are almost naked: and winter is now coming upon them in a cold prison, and a colder climate than most of them have been accustomed to. But will not the humanity and generosity of the gentlemen of Bristol prevent or relieve this distress? Did they not make a noble precedent during the late war? And surely they are not weary of well doing. Tuesday night, we did a little according to our power; but I shall rejoice, if this be forgotten through the abundance administered by their liberality, in a manner which they judge most proper. Will it not be, both for the honour of the city and country, for the credit of our religion, and for the glory of God, who knows how to return it sevenfold into their bosom?
“I am your humble servant,
“John Wesley.”
Wesley’s effort was not without results: “Presently after, the corporation of Bristol sent a large quantity of mattresses and blankets; and it was not long before contributions were set on foot in London, and in various parts of the kingdom,” for the selfsame object as that for which Wesley preached his impromptu sermon, and wrote his letter.
On October 26, he returned to London, where he remained until November 22, when he again set out for Everton, at which place he had to officiate for Berridge, who had gone to preach before the university at Cambridge.
On his way, Wesley stopped at Bedford, and writes: “We had a pretty large congregation; but the stench from the swine under the room was scarce supportable. Was ever a preaching place over a hogstye before? Surely they love the gospel, who come to hear it in such a place.” This garret to a pigstye was an upper room, used for spinning, in a yard leading from the High Street. The room was bad enough, the stye was worse, and Alderman Parker’s nephew was worstof all; for the young fellow always took care to arrange that the feeding of the pigs and the din consequent thereon, should be contemporaneous with his uncle’s preaching. At length, however, the spinning room and the swinish residence underneath were taken down; a small chapel was erected on the site; and an adjoining workhouse was converted into the home of itinerant Methodist preachers.[367]
At Everton, Wesley observed a remarkable difference, in the manner of the work, since his previous visit. “None now were in trances, none cried out, none fell down or were convulsed; only some trembled exceedingly, a low murmur was heard, and many were refreshed.” He continues: “the dangerwas, to regard such extraordinary circumstances too much, as if they were essential to the inward work. Perhaps the dangeris, to regard them too little; to condemn them altogether; to imagine they had nothing of God in them, and Were an hindrance 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 convulsions. (2) To strengthen and encourage them that believed, and to make His work more apparent, He favoured several of them with Divine dreams, others with trances and visions. (3) In some of these instances, after a time, nature mixed with grace. (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 where it mixes or degenerates. The shadow is no disparagement of the substance, nor the counterfeit of the real diamond.”
Wesley returned to London on November 28; and on December 9, “for the first time, held a lovefeast for the whole society.” Hitherto, none had been admitted to Methodist lovefeasts except the members of the bands, that is, persons who werejustified; now the members of the classes, that is, persons who werepenitent, were allowed tojoin in the same privilege of Christian fellowship, and to evince brotherly affection by taking together “a little plain cake and water.”
December 12, he spent part of the afternoon in the British Museum, recently instituted. On the 14th, he was at, what he calls, “a Christian wedding, two or three relatives and five clergymen” forming the company. On the 19th, he read over a chancery bill, in a suit to recover £10, which filled a hundred and ten sheets of paper. He desired the plaintiff and defendant to meet him, and settled the matter by arbitration. On the 23rd, he opened the new chapel at Colchester, which he describes as “twelve square,” and as “the best building, of the size, for the voice, that he knew in England.” The end of the year he spent at Norwich, where he found the society “fewer in number, but of a teachable spirit, willing to be advised, and even reproved.”
We have tracked the steps of Wesley during the year 1759. Before closing the chapter, two or three other matters must be noticed.
One was a savage onslaught, made upon Methodism, by the Rev. John Downes, rector of St. Michael, Wood Street, and lecturer of St. Mary-le-bow, London. This was a large pamphlet entitled, “Methodism Examined: being the substance of four discourses from Acts xx. 28-30.” The reader must be troubled with a few selections from this malignantmorceau, especially as Wesley condescended to notice it.