1766.
1766Age 63
THE following is Wesley’s first entry in his Journal for 1766. “January 1.—A large congregation met in the Foundery at four o’clock, and ushered in the new year with the voice of praise and thanksgiving. In the evening we met as usual in Spitalfields to renew our covenant with God. This is always a refreshing season, at which some prisoners are set at liberty.”
Wesley was still suffering from the fall of his horse, and, to some extent, was crippled; but, on January 13, he set out on his accustomed Norfolk visit.
On reaching Yarmouth, he wrote: “The word of God was increasing here, when poor Benjamin Worship was converted to Calvinism. Immediately, he declared open war, tore the society in pieces, took all he could to himself, wholly quitted the Church, and raised such a scandal as will not soon be removed.” This was an early rupture. It was hardly six years ago since Howel Harris had come to Yarmouth, with his regiment of volunteers, and, in martial costume, begun to preach the gospel of the Prince of Peace. Among others then converted was this selfsame Benjamin Worship, a young solicitor, who became classleader and local preacher; and now tore the infant society in pieces, organised a society of his own, obtained a small chapel in one of the rows, preached for about two years, and then had the mortification to see the whole collapse. John Simpson, a draper, succeeded Worship among the few forsaken Methodists; but, strangely enough, he also turned Calvinist, took possession of the meeting-house, and so divided the small society that only eight poor members were left remaining; and, before the year 1780, Methodism in Yarmouth was utterly defunct. Shortly after, a new society was formed; and, in 1783, a chapel was built, and was opened by Wesley, who says: “Often this poor society has been well-nigh shattered in pieces: first by Benjamin Worship, then a furious Calvinist, tearing away near half of them; next byJohn Simpson, turning antinomian, and scattering most that were left. It has pleased God, contrary to all human probability, to raise a new society out of the rest; nay, and to give them courage to build a new preaching house, which is well finished, and contains about five hundred persons.”
Wesley returned to London on January 24, and, finding the London society £610 in debt, three meetings were held, at which more than the whole was readily subscribed. The number of members had been reduced from 2800 to 2200. “Such,” says Wesley, “is the fruit of George Bell’s enthusiasm, and Thomas Maxfield’s gratitude.”
Whitefield was now in London, his health greatly enfeebled, often well-nigh breathless, but still struggling to preach three or four times a week.[635]Wesley writes: “January 31—Mr. Whitefield called upon me. He breathes nothing but peace and love. Bigotry cannot stand before him, but hides its head wherever he comes.”
From this period, there was a closer union between Whitefield and Wesley than there had been for the last quarter of a century. They had occasionally exchanged letters; and, sometimes, preached in each other’s pulpits; but there had been no hearty cooperation. Wesley’s plan of union among the evangelical clergymen of the Church of England had failed; he now entered into an alliance with Whitefield and the Countess of Huntingdon. In the month of October, 1765, her ladyship’s chapel at Bath had been opened by Whitefield, who had been succeeded by Messrs. Madan, Romaine, and Fletcher. About the same time, Charles Wesley named his third daughter Selina, as a mark of respect to the countess;[636]and, on August 21, 1766, wrote: “This morning I and my brother spent two blessed hours with George Whitefield. The threefold cord, we trust, will never more be broken. On Tuesday next, my brother is to preach in Lady Huntingdon’s chapel at Bath. That and all her chapels are now put into the hands of us three.”[637]
This was an important meeting. Wesley had just held hisconference at Leeds, and had started on his usual autumnal tour, when he received, from Lady Huntingdon, a letter requesting him to come at once to London. Accordingly, he writes: “August 18—I turned off from the road I had designed to take, and on the 20th reached London. It was at the earnest request of ——, whose heart God has turned again, without any expectation of mine, that I came hither so suddenly; and if no other good result from it but our firm union with Mr. Whitefield, it is an abundant recompense for my labour. My brother and I conferred with him every day; and let the honourable men do what they please, we resolved, by the grace of God, to go on, hand in hand, through honour and dishonour.”
Wesley went direct, from this conference in London, to preach in her ladyship’s chapel in Bath. This was a remarkable event. Up to the present, the chapels of the Countess of Huntingdon had been almost as hermetically closed against him as the churches of the Church of England. Now, for a little season, it began to be otherwise. Wesley says: “1766, August 26—Many were not a little surprised at seeing me in the Countess of Huntingdon’s chapel, at Bath. The congregation was not only large, but serious; and I fully delivered my own soul. So I am in no concern, whether I preach there again, or no. I have no choice concerning it.“
Notwithstanding his avowed indifference, Wesley wrote to her ladyship, offering to preach in her chapel weekly during his intended stay in Bristol; and, in answer, she addressed to him the following important letter.
“September 14, 1766.“My dear Sir,—I am most highly obliged by your kind offer of serving the chapel at Bath during your stay at Bristol: I mean on Sundays. It is an important time, being the height of the season, when the great of this world are only within reach of the sound of the gospel from that quarter. The mornings are their time; the evenings, the inhabitants’ chiefly.”
“September 14, 1766.
“My dear Sir,—I am most highly obliged by your kind offer of serving the chapel at Bath during your stay at Bristol: I mean on Sundays. It is an important time, being the height of the season, when the great of this world are only within reach of the sound of the gospel from that quarter. The mornings are their time; the evenings, the inhabitants’ chiefly.”
Her ladyship then proceeds to speak of the new alliance with Whitefield and herself.
“I do trust, that this union, which is commenced, will be for the furtherance of our faith, and mutual love to each other. It is for the interest of the best of causes, that we should all be found, first faithful to the Lord,and then to each other. I find something wanting, and that is, a meeting now and then agreed upon, that you, your brother, Mr. Whitefield, and I should, at regular times, be glad to communicate our observations upon the general state of the work. Light might follow, and would be a kind of guide to me, as I am connected with many.“Pray, when you have leisure, let me hear from you, and believe me most faithfully your affectionate friend,“S. Huntingdon.”[638]
“I do trust, that this union, which is commenced, will be for the furtherance of our faith, and mutual love to each other. It is for the interest of the best of causes, that we should all be found, first faithful to the Lord,and then to each other. I find something wanting, and that is, a meeting now and then agreed upon, that you, your brother, Mr. Whitefield, and I should, at regular times, be glad to communicate our observations upon the general state of the work. Light might follow, and would be a kind of guide to me, as I am connected with many.
“Pray, when you have leisure, let me hear from you, and believe me most faithfully your affectionate friend,
“S. Huntingdon.”[638]
Such was the proposed quadruple alliance, between the three great evangelists of the age and a noble Christian lady, who, had she been a man, would have aspired to be a bishop. The alliance, as will be seen hereafter, was not of long duration; but that probably was owing, not to the unfaithfulness of any of the four, but rather to Whitefield’s death; and the envious cabals of the Calvinistic clergy, by whom the countess was surrounded, and some of whom, as Southey says, “abounded as much with bigotry and intolerance as with zeal.”
Wesley fulfilled his promise, and, during the month of October, preached several times in the chapel of the countess at Bath; and, on one occasion, administered the sacrament of the Lord’s supper. At this period, the chapel was attended by not a few of the nobility: as Lord Camden, then lord chancellor of England, Lord Northington, Earl Chatham and family, Lord Rockingham, Lady Malpas, Lord and Lady Powys, Lord and Lady Buchan, the Duke of Bedford and family, Dr. Barnard, bishop of Londonderry, and last, but not least, Horace Walpole, who, in a letter to John Chute, Esq., dated “Bath, October 10, 1766,” gives the following lively, if not strictly accurate, description of what he saw and heard.
“I have been at one opera—Mr. Wesley’s. They have boys and girls, with charming voices, that sing hymns in parts to Scotch ballad tunes; but, indeed, so long, that one would think they were already in eternity, and knew not how much time they had before them. The chapel is very neat, with true gothic windows. I was glad to see that luxury is creeping in upon them before persecution.” [Here follows a description of the chapel.] “Wesley is a clean, elderly man, fresh coloured, his hair smoothly combed, but with a littlesoupconof curl at the ends. Wondrous clever, but as evidently an actor as Garrick. He spoke his sermon,but so fast, and with so little accent, that I am sure he has often uttered it, for it was like a lesson. There were parts and eloquence in it; but, towards the end, he exalted his voice, and acted very ugly enthusiasm, decried learning, and told stories, like Latimer, of the fool of his college, who said, ‘IthanksGod for everything.’ Except a few from curiosity, andsome honourable women, the congregation was very mean.”[639]
“I have been at one opera—Mr. Wesley’s. They have boys and girls, with charming voices, that sing hymns in parts to Scotch ballad tunes; but, indeed, so long, that one would think they were already in eternity, and knew not how much time they had before them. The chapel is very neat, with true gothic windows. I was glad to see that luxury is creeping in upon them before persecution.” [Here follows a description of the chapel.] “Wesley is a clean, elderly man, fresh coloured, his hair smoothly combed, but with a littlesoupconof curl at the ends. Wondrous clever, but as evidently an actor as Garrick. He spoke his sermon,but so fast, and with so little accent, that I am sure he has often uttered it, for it was like a lesson. There were parts and eloquence in it; but, towards the end, he exalted his voice, and acted very ugly enthusiasm, decried learning, and told stories, like Latimer, of the fool of his college, who said, ‘IthanksGod for everything.’ Except a few from curiosity, andsome honourable women, the congregation was very mean.”[639]
Considering the many years during which Wesley had been accustomed to preach at Bath, it may seem strange to some, that he should now be preaching, not in his own chapel, but in another’s. The truth is, though so much time and labour had been bestowed on Bath, by himself, his brother, and their preachers, the results were exceeding small. They had a preaching place in Avon Street; but it was mean, and surrounded by a population not the most respectable. They had a society; but it was dwindling instead of growing. In 1757, the members were fifty-five in number; in 1762, they were thirty-one; in 1767, they were twelve. In a letter to Miss Bishop, in the last mentioned year, Wesley says: “We have had a society in Bath for about thirty years; sometimes larger and sometimes smaller. It was very small this autumn, consisting of only eleven or twelve persons, of whom Michael Hemmings was leader. I spoke to these one by one, added nine or ten more, divided them into two classes, and appointed half of them to meet with Joseph Harris.”[640]
But leaving the quadruple alliance already mentioned, we must return to Wesley’s gospel wanderings.
On the 10th of March, he set out, from London, on his long journey to the north. Coming, as usual, to Bristol, he wrote: “I rode to Kingswood, and having told my whole mind to the masters and servants, spoke to the children in a far stronger manner than ever I did before. I will kill or cure. I will have one or the other: a Christian school, or none at all.”
From Bristol, Wesley made his way to Stroud and Cheltenham. The latter town, like Bath, was a place of fashion and of pleasure, and, therefore, not a friendly soil for Methodism.Wesley had preached here twenty-two years before, “to a company,” he says, “who seemed to understand just as much of the matter as if he had been talking Greek.” He now tried again, out of doors, in the midst of a piercing wind, and none, rich or poor, went away till his sermon was concluded. Three years afterwards, the Methodist itinerants began to visit Cheltenham; and, among others converted, was Miss Penelope Newman,[641]who soon became the leader of two classes, and a select band,[642]and who, for years, was one of Wesley’s correspondents. Before her conversion, she kept a bookshop; afterwards, she devoted herself wholly to the work of God, making visits to adjacent towns and villages, and, like Sarah Crosby and others, occasionally giving public exhortations.[643]For long years, the meeting place of the Methodists at Cheltenham was a small house in Pitville Street, which was alternately occupied by them and by the baptists;[644]and such was the slow progress of Methodism in this place of fashionable resort, that it was not until the year 1813 that the Methodists obtained a chapel of their own, and even then there were only twenty in society.[645]
Leaving Cheltenham, Wesley proceeded to Evesham, where the mob, encouraged by the magistrate, made noise enough; but as they used neither stones nor dirt, Wesley says, “We were well contented.”
After preaching at Birmingham, Wesley, on March 20, paid his first visit to Burton on Trent, where Thomas Hanby had introduced Methodism by preaching in the house of a shoemaker, the mob smashing poor Crispin’s windows, and the preacher having to hide himself from his murderous enemies beneath the cutting board.[646]
Proceeding to Nottingham, Wesley preached in the octagon chapel, which had just been built at the cost of £128 2s.7d.No wonder that he says, “it was filled with serious hearers.” Up to the present, the Nottingham Methodists had held their meetings in the house of Matthew Bagshaw, who, to accommodatethe people, fixed, in the floor of his chamber, a large trap door, which, when lifted up, converted Matthew’s dormitory into a sort of gallery; and the preacher, standing in the aperture, with his head just through the floor, was thus enabled to preach to the female part of his congregation in the room below, and, at the same time, to the men occupying the room above.
From Nottingham, Wesley made his way to Sheffield. Here two Methodist meeting-houses had been demolished by Sheffield mobs; but a third was now erected in Mulberry Street, fifty-four feet long, and six-and-thirty wide, and in this Wesley preached on March 26. He writes: “We had a numerous congregation. There has been much disturbance here this winter; but to-night all was peace.” The disturbance mentioned was occasioned by a buffoon general leading on a mob of empty headed young fellows from sixteen to twenty years of age. Often were the cloaks and gowns of females cut into tatters with knives or scissors. Sometimes the chief, dressed as a harlequin, would enter the chapel, concealing, beneath his clothing, cats, or cocks and hens, whose mewings, cacklings, and crowings, were not calculated to improve the devotion of the people. When expelled from the interior of the building, he would contrive to climb the roof, where, in front of a large skylight nearly over the pulpit, he was wont to mimic the action of the preacher down below. The chapel windows were smashed, and when shutters were put up, these were pelted with bricks, stones, and sticks. For some reason, the captain and his gang were quiet at the time Wesley preached; but their annoyances and persecutions were continued for three months longer; at the end of which the poor wretch was bathing in the Don, and, after besporting himself in the dingy river for a considerable time, exclaimed, with an air of mockery and mirth, “Another dip, and then for a bit more sport with the Methodists!” In he plunged; down he sunk; and, sticking in the mud, was drowned, before his associates could get him out.[647]
From Sheffield, Wesley proceeded to Eyam, Stockport, and Manchester. Here, as in London and Bristol and otherplaces, there was a large decrease in the number professing Christian perfection. The fifty at Manchester had dwindled down to one third of that number.
Why was this? The reader must imagine an answer for himself; we profess only to furnish facts. Whitefield, of course, was an opponent of Wesley’s doctrine; perhaps because he scarcely understood it. In a letter dated “June 2, 1766,” he writes: “Thatmonstrous doctrine of sinless perfection, for a while, turns some of its deluded votaries into temporary monsters.”[648]Charles Wesley was almost equally incredulous. Wesley addressing him on July 9, 1766, remarks: “That perfection which I believe, I can boldly preach; because, I think, I see five hundred witnesses of it. Of that perfection which you preach, you think you do not see any witness at all. I wonder you do not, in this article, fall in plumb with Mr. Whitefield. For do not you, as well as he, ask, ‘Where are the perfect ones?’ I verily believe there are none. I cordially assent to his opinion, that there is no perfection here such as you describe; at least, I never met with an instance of it, and I doubt I never shall. Therefore, I still think, to set perfection so high is effectually to renounce it.”[649]
Thus was Wesley between two fires; Whitefield setting the doctrine too low, and Charles Wesley setting it too high; and both of them ready to ridicule what Wesley called its witnesses. There can be no question, that some of those witnesses injured the doctrine instead of helping it. Wesley himself, on June 28 of this very year, writes to “Mrs. R.,” probably Sarah Ryan, finding fault with her in reference to this matter. “Youappear,” says he, “to be above instruction from man. Youappearto think that none understands the doctrine of sanctification likeyou. Nay, you sometimes speakas ifnone understood itbeside you. Youappearto undervalue the experience of almost every one, in comparison of your own. I am afraid, also, you are in danger of enthusiasm. We know there are Divine dreams and impressions; but how easily may you be deceived herein! It has also been frequentlysaid, with someappearanceof truth, that you endeavour tomonopolizethe affections of all that fall into your hands; that you destroy the nearest and dearest connection they had before, and make them quite cool and indifferent to their most intimate friends.”[650]
If such superciliousness, fanaticism, and selfishnessappearedto be budding in a witness like Sarah Ryan, is it surprising that men like Whitefield should stand in doubt? Wesley, in this matter, almost stood alone, with the exception of his friend Fletcher, who wrote to him the following hitherto unpublished letter.
“Madeley,February 17, 1766.“Reverend and dear Sir,—As this is the time that you generally plan your journeys, and you did not make Shropshire in your way last year, I beg leave to put you in mind, that Christ and you have some friends here, who would be glad to hear the word from your mouth, and treasure it up in honest and simple hearts. Could not you so order matters as to let us have you at Madeley one Sunday? If this should be impracticable, call some week day; this would be better than to pass us by altogether. The Lord, in mercy, gives me more love to these few sheep, and to the brethren in general, than I ever had, which makes my waiting upon them to be freedom; I hope it will be soonperfectfreedom.“I think we must define exactly what we mean by theperfectionwhich is attainable here. In so doing we may, through mercy, obviate the scoffs of the carnal, and the misapprehension of the spiritual world, at least, in part. The light, that I now see the thing in, is this: as the body is not capable of perfection on this side the grave, all those powers of the soul whose exertion depends, in part, on the frame and well being of the body, or the happy flow of the animal spirits, will not, cannot be perfected here. Of this sort are, I apprehend: (1) the understanding; (2) the memory; (3) the passionate affections, or the affections as they work, by means of the animal spirits, on the animal frame. These are no doubt susceptible of admirable impressions, and very high improvements; but still, ‘corpus affiget humi Divinæ particulam auræ,’ more or less.“The one power, then, that I see can be perfected here, because it is altogether independent from the body, isthe will, and, of course, theaffectionsso far as they work on the will.“I have had, for some time, a desire to execute the plan of a work, which appears to me likely to be useful, if God gives me wisdom to go through with it, and my friend’s help and direction. It should be by way of dialogues, not between fine gentlemen, like Theron and Aspasio; but, between a minister and one of his parishioners. Six dialogues upon these subjects: the doctrine of the fall; salvation by faith alone; the new birth;the inspiration of the Spirit; the necessity of feeling His operations; the assurance of salvation: each point proved by Scripture, reason, experience, and the authority of the church, with the most common objections answered. The second part would contain another set of dialogues, between the minister and other parishioners of different characters—(1) an infidel; (2) a formalist; (3) a moralist; (4) a worldling; (5) a railer at godly ministers and people; with proper answers to their respective objections. I bespeak your direction and corrections if I should execute this plan; and, that you may be better able to judge whether I am to set about it in earnest, or lay it aside, I shall prepare a dialogue for your perusal, by way of specimen.“The gentleman from West Bromwich, which was at my house when you were here, has a hopeful son, seriously inclined, between fourteen and fifteen, who waits to be bound apprentice to some chemist or druggist, if one is to be found wanting an apprentice. Do you know of none in the circle of your acquaintance?“Brother Mather is so kind as to strengthen my hands in the neighbourhood. I trust he will be an instrument of much good.“I recommend myself to your prayers and direction; and, wishing that the Lord may renew and increase your bodily and spiritual strength daily,“I remain, dear sir, your unworthy servant,“John Fletcher.“
“Madeley,February 17, 1766.
“Reverend and dear Sir,—As this is the time that you generally plan your journeys, and you did not make Shropshire in your way last year, I beg leave to put you in mind, that Christ and you have some friends here, who would be glad to hear the word from your mouth, and treasure it up in honest and simple hearts. Could not you so order matters as to let us have you at Madeley one Sunday? If this should be impracticable, call some week day; this would be better than to pass us by altogether. The Lord, in mercy, gives me more love to these few sheep, and to the brethren in general, than I ever had, which makes my waiting upon them to be freedom; I hope it will be soonperfectfreedom.
“I think we must define exactly what we mean by theperfectionwhich is attainable here. In so doing we may, through mercy, obviate the scoffs of the carnal, and the misapprehension of the spiritual world, at least, in part. The light, that I now see the thing in, is this: as the body is not capable of perfection on this side the grave, all those powers of the soul whose exertion depends, in part, on the frame and well being of the body, or the happy flow of the animal spirits, will not, cannot be perfected here. Of this sort are, I apprehend: (1) the understanding; (2) the memory; (3) the passionate affections, or the affections as they work, by means of the animal spirits, on the animal frame. These are no doubt susceptible of admirable impressions, and very high improvements; but still, ‘corpus affiget humi Divinæ particulam auræ,’ more or less.
“The one power, then, that I see can be perfected here, because it is altogether independent from the body, isthe will, and, of course, theaffectionsso far as they work on the will.
“I have had, for some time, a desire to execute the plan of a work, which appears to me likely to be useful, if God gives me wisdom to go through with it, and my friend’s help and direction. It should be by way of dialogues, not between fine gentlemen, like Theron and Aspasio; but, between a minister and one of his parishioners. Six dialogues upon these subjects: the doctrine of the fall; salvation by faith alone; the new birth;the inspiration of the Spirit; the necessity of feeling His operations; the assurance of salvation: each point proved by Scripture, reason, experience, and the authority of the church, with the most common objections answered. The second part would contain another set of dialogues, between the minister and other parishioners of different characters—(1) an infidel; (2) a formalist; (3) a moralist; (4) a worldling; (5) a railer at godly ministers and people; with proper answers to their respective objections. I bespeak your direction and corrections if I should execute this plan; and, that you may be better able to judge whether I am to set about it in earnest, or lay it aside, I shall prepare a dialogue for your perusal, by way of specimen.
“The gentleman from West Bromwich, which was at my house when you were here, has a hopeful son, seriously inclined, between fourteen and fifteen, who waits to be bound apprentice to some chemist or druggist, if one is to be found wanting an apprentice. Do you know of none in the circle of your acquaintance?
“Brother Mather is so kind as to strengthen my hands in the neighbourhood. I trust he will be an instrument of much good.
“I recommend myself to your prayers and direction; and, wishing that the Lord may renew and increase your bodily and spiritual strength daily,
“I remain, dear sir, your unworthy servant,
“John Fletcher.“
To this, Wesley replied as follows.
“Lewisham,February 28, 1766.“What I mean by perfection, I have defined both in the first, and in the farther thoughts upon that subject. ‘Pure love, rejoicing evermore, praying always, in everything giving thanks.’ And I incline to think, the account you give will amount to the very same thing. But we may observe, that, naturally speaking, the animal frame will affect more or less every power of the soul; seeing, at present, the soul can no morelovethan it canthinkany otherwise than by the help of bodily organs. If, therefore, we either think, speak, or love aright, it must be by power from on high. And if our affections or will continue right, it must be by acontinuedmiracle. Have we reason to believe, or have we not, that God willcontinuallysustain the stone in the air?“Allow yourself compass enough, and I do not doubt the work you speak of will be of use. But, I think, you will want to close the whole with a dialogue on Christian perfection. Unity and holiness are the two things I want among the Methodists. Who will rise up with me against all open or secret opposers of one or the other? Such are, in truth, allprudent, alldelicate, allfashionable, allhalf heartedMethodists. My soul is weary because of these murderers of the work of God. O let us go through with our work. Why should we not givetotum pro toto? I hope you will always love and pray for, dear sir, your affectionate brother and servant,“John Wesley.”[651]
“Lewisham,February 28, 1766.
“What I mean by perfection, I have defined both in the first, and in the farther thoughts upon that subject. ‘Pure love, rejoicing evermore, praying always, in everything giving thanks.’ And I incline to think, the account you give will amount to the very same thing. But we may observe, that, naturally speaking, the animal frame will affect more or less every power of the soul; seeing, at present, the soul can no morelovethan it canthinkany otherwise than by the help of bodily organs. If, therefore, we either think, speak, or love aright, it must be by power from on high. And if our affections or will continue right, it must be by acontinuedmiracle. Have we reason to believe, or have we not, that God willcontinuallysustain the stone in the air?
“Allow yourself compass enough, and I do not doubt the work you speak of will be of use. But, I think, you will want to close the whole with a dialogue on Christian perfection. Unity and holiness are the two things I want among the Methodists. Who will rise up with me against all open or secret opposers of one or the other? Such are, in truth, allprudent, alldelicate, allfashionable, allhalf heartedMethodists. My soul is weary because of these murderers of the work of God. O let us go through with our work. Why should we not givetotum pro toto? I hope you will always love and pray for, dear sir, your affectionate brother and servant,
“John Wesley.”[651]
This was strong language; but Wesley was a firm believer in the doctrine that he preached, and hence he was in earnest. There was a serious reaction in reference to Christian perfection, and he was exceedingly distressed. In May, 1766, he writes to Sarah Crosby: “A general faintness, in this respect, is fallen upon the whole kingdom. Sometimes, I seem almost weary of striving against the stream both of preachers and people.”[652]Wesley, however, continued striving, for, rightly or wrongly, he regarded the doctrine of Christian perfection as indispensable to a continuance of the work of God. Hence, the following, addressed to Mr. Merryweather, of Yarm.
“February 8, 1766.“My dear Brother,—Where Christian perfection is not strongly and explicitly preached, there is seldom any remarkable blessing from God; and consequently little addition to the society, and little life in the members of it. Therefore, if Jacob Rowell is grown faint, and says but little about it, doyousupply his lack of service. Speak and spare not. Let not regard for any man induce you to betray the truth of God. Till you press the believers to expectfull salvation now, you must not look for any revival.“It is certain, God does, at some times, without any cause known to us, shower down His grace in an extraordinary manner; and He does, in some instances, delay to give either justifying or sanctifying grace, for reasons which are not discovered to us. These are some of those secrets of His government, which it hath pleased Him to reserve in His own breast. I hope you and your wife keep all you have, and gasp for more.“I am your affectionate brother,“John Wesley.”[653]
“February 8, 1766.
“My dear Brother,—Where Christian perfection is not strongly and explicitly preached, there is seldom any remarkable blessing from God; and consequently little addition to the society, and little life in the members of it. Therefore, if Jacob Rowell is grown faint, and says but little about it, doyousupply his lack of service. Speak and spare not. Let not regard for any man induce you to betray the truth of God. Till you press the believers to expectfull salvation now, you must not look for any revival.
“It is certain, God does, at some times, without any cause known to us, shower down His grace in an extraordinary manner; and He does, in some instances, delay to give either justifying or sanctifying grace, for reasons which are not discovered to us. These are some of those secrets of His government, which it hath pleased Him to reserve in His own breast. I hope you and your wife keep all you have, and gasp for more.
“I am your affectionate brother,
“John Wesley.”[653]
We must again pursue Wesley in his journeyings.
Leaving Manchester, he came, on April 2, to Chester, whither the Gilbert family had removed from Kendal, and where he remained five days, preaching from the texts following: Romans viii. 32-34; John v. 8, 9; John xvii. 3; Matthew ix. 5; and Isaiah xxxv. 8.[654]
On April 7, he reached Warrington, where a society was already formed, and where he had “a large congregation,” at noonday, “of rich and poor, learned and unlearned.” Hesays: “I never spoke more plain; nor have I ever seen a congregation listen with more attention.” One of the members at this period was William Young, who, for about twenty years together, preached at Warrington every Monday night, extended his labours to many parts of Lancashire and Cheshire, and who died in 1823, uttering, as his last words on earth: “Come Lord Jesus; glory! glory! angels, angels, coming, coming to take me to Abraham’s bosom.”[655]
At Liverpool, Wesley examined the new trust deed of Pitt Street chapel, to which he objected, as follows: “1. It takes up three large skins of parchment, and so could not cost less than six guineas; whereas our own deed, transcribed by a friend, would not have cost six shillings. 2. It is verbose beyond all sense and reason; and withal so ambiguously worded, that one passage only might find matter for a suit of ten or twelve years in chancery. 3. It everywhere calls the house a meeting-house, a name which I particularly object to. 4. It leaves no power either to the assistant or me, so much as to place or displace a steward. 5. Neither I, nor all the conference, have power to send the same preacher two years together. To crown all,—6. If a preacher is not appointed at the conference, the trustees and the congregation are to choose one by most votes! Can any one wonder I dislike this deed, which tears the Methodist discipline up by the roots?”
On April 11, Wesley preached at Wigan, “to a large number of serious, well behaved people, mixed with a few as stupidly insolent creatures as he ever saw.” He then made his way to Brinsley, Bolton, Middleton, Chapel-en-le-Frith, Rotherham, Doncaster, Awkborough, Barrow, Grimsby, Louth, Horncastle, and other Lincolnshire towns and villages. He writes: “John Hill has done more mischief at Horncastle than a man of far greater talents can do good. By that unhappy division of the society, he has opened the mouths of all the gainsayers; and, to complete the scandal, he and six-and-twenty more have been dipped!” He adds: “I do not choose to preach above twice or thrice in a day; but when Iam called to do more, it is all one: I find strength according to my need.”
On April 28, he got to York; and, the day after, preached in the new chapel at Thirsk; “almost equal,” he says, “to that at Yarm; and why not quite, seeing they had the model before their eyes, and had nothing to do but to copy after it? Is it not an amazing weakness, that, when they have the most beautiful pattern before them, all builders will affect to mend something?” This was a hard rap at good old Mr. Wells, who built the chapel;[656]but architects and builders who spoil chapels to gratify their own vain ambition have no right to wish or to expect tender treatment from those who suffer by their preposterous folly.
On reaching Newcastle, he spent nearly three weeks, partly in comparative rest, and partly in preaching, and in visiting neighbouring societies. He writes: “I know not to what it is owing, that I have felt more weariness this spring than I had done before for many years; unless to my fall at Christmas, which perhaps weakened the springs of my whole machine more than I was sensible of.”
On the 19th of May, he set out, with his wife and daughter,[657]for Scotland, preaching at Placey, Morpeth, Felton, Alnwick, Belford, and Berwick on the way. The next five weeks were employed in the towns and villages across the Tweed. The following are extracts from his Journal.
“Saturday, May 24.—I went to the room at Preston Pans; and I had it all to myself; neither man, woman, nor child offered to look me in the face; so I ordered a chair to be placed in the street. Then forty or fifty crept together; but they were mere stocks and stones; no more concerned than if I had talked Greek.”“Monday, May 26: Edinburgh.—I spent some hours at the meeting of the National Assembly. I am very far from being of Mr. Whitefield’s mind, who greatly commends the solemnity of this meeting. I have seen few less solemn. I was extremely shocked at the behaviour of many of the members. Had any preacher behaved so at our conference, he would have had no more place among us.”“Thursday, June 5: Dundee.—I took occasion to repeat most of the plausible objections which had been made to us in Scotland. I thenshowed our reasons for the things which had been objected to us; and all seemed to be thoroughly satisfied. The sum of what I spoke was this: I love plain dealing. Do not you? I will use it now. Bear with me. I hang out no false colours; but show you all I am, all I intend, all I do. I am a member of the Church of England; but I love good men of every church. My ground is the Bible; yea, I am a Bible bigot. I follow it in all things, both great and small. Therefore—1. I always use a short private prayer, when I attend the public service of God. Do not you? Why do you not? Is not this according to the Bible? 2. I stand, whenever I sing the praise of God in public. Does not the Bible give you plain precedents for this? 3. I always kneel before the Lord my Maker, when I pray in public. 4. I generally in public use the Lord’s prayer, because Christ has taught me, when I pray, to say, ——. I advise every preacher connected with me, whether in England or Scotland, herein to tread in my steps.”“Sunday, June 8.—Knowing no reason why we should make God’s day the shortest of the seven, I desired Joseph Thompson to preach, at Aberdeen, at five. At eight, I preached myself. In the afternoon, I heard a strong, close sermon, at Old Aberdeen; and afterwards preached in the college kirk, to a very genteel, and yet serious congregation. I then opened and enforced the way of holiness, at New Aberdeen.”“Sunday, June 15: Edinburgh.—Our room was very warm in the afternoon, through the multitude of people; a great number of whom were people of fashion, with many ministers. I spoke to them with the utmost plainness, and, I believe, not in vain. It is scarce possible to speak too plain in England; but it is scarce possible to speak plain enough in Scotland. If you do not, you lose all your labour, you plough upon the sand.”“Wednesday, June 18: Glasgow.—What a difference there is between the society here, and that at Dundee. There are about sixty members there, and scarce more than six scriptural believers. Here are seventy-four members, and near thirty among them lively, zealous believers; one of whom was justified thirty years ago, and another of them two-and-forty; and several of them have been for many years rejoicing in God their Saviour.”“Monday, June 23.—At Thorny Hill, I met with Mr. Knox’s ‘History of the Church of Scotland.’ And could any man wonder, if the members of it were more fierce, sour, and bitter of spirit, than some of them were? For what a pattern have they before them! I know it is commonly said, ‘The work to be done needed such a spirit.’ Not so! the work of God does not, cannot, need the work of the devil to forward it. A calm, even spirit goes through rough work far better than a furious one. Although, therefore, God did use, at the time of the Reformation, some sour, overbearing, passionate men, yet He did not use them because they were such, but notwithstanding they were so. And there is no doubt, He would have used them much more, had they been of an humbler and milder spirit.”
“Saturday, May 24.—I went to the room at Preston Pans; and I had it all to myself; neither man, woman, nor child offered to look me in the face; so I ordered a chair to be placed in the street. Then forty or fifty crept together; but they were mere stocks and stones; no more concerned than if I had talked Greek.”
“Monday, May 26: Edinburgh.—I spent some hours at the meeting of the National Assembly. I am very far from being of Mr. Whitefield’s mind, who greatly commends the solemnity of this meeting. I have seen few less solemn. I was extremely shocked at the behaviour of many of the members. Had any preacher behaved so at our conference, he would have had no more place among us.”
“Thursday, June 5: Dundee.—I took occasion to repeat most of the plausible objections which had been made to us in Scotland. I thenshowed our reasons for the things which had been objected to us; and all seemed to be thoroughly satisfied. The sum of what I spoke was this: I love plain dealing. Do not you? I will use it now. Bear with me. I hang out no false colours; but show you all I am, all I intend, all I do. I am a member of the Church of England; but I love good men of every church. My ground is the Bible; yea, I am a Bible bigot. I follow it in all things, both great and small. Therefore—1. I always use a short private prayer, when I attend the public service of God. Do not you? Why do you not? Is not this according to the Bible? 2. I stand, whenever I sing the praise of God in public. Does not the Bible give you plain precedents for this? 3. I always kneel before the Lord my Maker, when I pray in public. 4. I generally in public use the Lord’s prayer, because Christ has taught me, when I pray, to say, ——. I advise every preacher connected with me, whether in England or Scotland, herein to tread in my steps.”
“Sunday, June 8.—Knowing no reason why we should make God’s day the shortest of the seven, I desired Joseph Thompson to preach, at Aberdeen, at five. At eight, I preached myself. In the afternoon, I heard a strong, close sermon, at Old Aberdeen; and afterwards preached in the college kirk, to a very genteel, and yet serious congregation. I then opened and enforced the way of holiness, at New Aberdeen.”
“Sunday, June 15: Edinburgh.—Our room was very warm in the afternoon, through the multitude of people; a great number of whom were people of fashion, with many ministers. I spoke to them with the utmost plainness, and, I believe, not in vain. It is scarce possible to speak too plain in England; but it is scarce possible to speak plain enough in Scotland. If you do not, you lose all your labour, you plough upon the sand.”
“Wednesday, June 18: Glasgow.—What a difference there is between the society here, and that at Dundee. There are about sixty members there, and scarce more than six scriptural believers. Here are seventy-four members, and near thirty among them lively, zealous believers; one of whom was justified thirty years ago, and another of them two-and-forty; and several of them have been for many years rejoicing in God their Saviour.”
“Monday, June 23.—At Thorny Hill, I met with Mr. Knox’s ‘History of the Church of Scotland.’ And could any man wonder, if the members of it were more fierce, sour, and bitter of spirit, than some of them were? For what a pattern have they before them! I know it is commonly said, ‘The work to be done needed such a spirit.’ Not so! the work of God does not, cannot, need the work of the devil to forward it. A calm, even spirit goes through rough work far better than a furious one. Although, therefore, God did use, at the time of the Reformation, some sour, overbearing, passionate men, yet He did not use them because they were such, but notwithstanding they were so. And there is no doubt, He would have used them much more, had they been of an humbler and milder spirit.”
Wesley terminated his Scottish tour at Dumfries, and, in reaching Solway Frith, had a somewhat dangerous adventure. He writes: “June 24.—Designing to call at an inn by the frith side, we were directed to leave the main road, and go straight to the house which we saw before us. In ten minutes, Duncan Wright was embogged: however, the horse plunged on, and got through. I was inclined to turn back; but Duncan telling me I need only go a little to the left, I did so, and sunk at once to my horse’s shoulders. He sprung up twice, and twice sank again, each time deeper than before. At the third plunge, he threw me on one side, and we both made shift to scramble out. I was covered with fine, soft mud, from my feet to the crown of my head; yet, blessed be God, not hurt at all.”
Wesley was again in England; and, after visiting Whitehaven, rode, on June 30, more than seventy miles, through a rough, mountainous region, on his way to Barnard castle, where he says: “At six, I preached in an open space, adjoining to the preaching house. As the militia were in town, the far greater part of them attended, with a large congregation from town and country. It rained most of the time I was speaking; but, I believe, hardly six persons went away.”
On July 2, he preached in Weardale, and says: “Here a poor woman was brought to us, who had been disordered several years, and was now raving mad. She cursed and blasphemed in a terrible manner, and could not stand or sit still for a moment. However, her husband held her by main strength, although she shrieked in the most dreadful manner; but, in a quarter of an hour, she left off shrieking, and sat motionless and silent, till she began crying to God, which she continued to do, almost without intermission, till we left her.”
After spending three days at Newcastle, and in its neighbourhood, Wesley started for the south. At Yarm, on July 9, he held the quarterly meeting, and remarks: “The societies in this circuit increase; that is, among the poor; for the rich, generally speaking, ‘care for none of these things.’”
The Yarm circuit, at this period, extended as far south as Ripon, a distance of thirty miles, where some of the Methodists had been subjected to harsh and unlawful usage. Thisled Wesley to address the following characteristic letter to the Rev. Mr. Wanley, dean of Ripon; who, though a magistrate, had for many years refused to administer justice in the case of persecuted Methodists.[658]
“Yarm,July 9, 1766.“Reverend Sir,—The regard which I owe to a fellow Christian, and much more to a clergyman and a magistrate, constrains me to trouble you with a few lines, though I have no personal acquaintance with you. Ralph Bell has just been giving me an account of the late affair at Ripon. What he desires is—(1) to have the loss he has sustained repaired; and (2) liberty of conscience; that liberty which every man may claim as his right, by the law of God and nature, and to which every Englishman, in particular, has a right by the laws of his country. I well know the advantage these laws give us in the present case: I say us, because I make the case my own, as I think it my bounden duty to do. I have had many suits in the King’s Bench, and, blessed be God, I never lost one yet. But I would far rather put an amicable end to any dispute, where it can be done. Not that I am afraid of being overborne by the expense: if I am not, I know them that are able to bear it. But I love peace. I love my neighbour as myself, and would not willingly bring loss or trouble upon any man. Be so good as to impute to this motive my interfering in this matter.“I am, reverend sir, your servant for Christ’s sake,“John Wesley.”[659]
“Yarm,July 9, 1766.
“Reverend Sir,—The regard which I owe to a fellow Christian, and much more to a clergyman and a magistrate, constrains me to trouble you with a few lines, though I have no personal acquaintance with you. Ralph Bell has just been giving me an account of the late affair at Ripon. What he desires is—(1) to have the loss he has sustained repaired; and (2) liberty of conscience; that liberty which every man may claim as his right, by the law of God and nature, and to which every Englishman, in particular, has a right by the laws of his country. I well know the advantage these laws give us in the present case: I say us, because I make the case my own, as I think it my bounden duty to do. I have had many suits in the King’s Bench, and, blessed be God, I never lost one yet. But I would far rather put an amicable end to any dispute, where it can be done. Not that I am afraid of being overborne by the expense: if I am not, I know them that are able to bear it. But I love peace. I love my neighbour as myself, and would not willingly bring loss or trouble upon any man. Be so good as to impute to this motive my interfering in this matter.
“I am, reverend sir, your servant for Christ’s sake,
“John Wesley.”[659]
Wesley was a man of peace; but he was not a man to relinquish lightly the lawful rights of himself and his people. With all the generosity of a great leader, he was as ready to fight for the poorest of his followers as for himself. A man unknown to fame, like Ralph Bell, of Ripon, was as sure to secure his sympathy as the most illustrious disciple that he had.
From Yarm, Wesley proceeded to the small village of Hutton Rudby, where there was the largest society in the Yarm circuit, and where only two out of the sixteen, who professed to be entirely sanctified two or three years before, had “lost the direct witness of that salvation.” At Stokesley, he preached in the new chapel; and went from there to Guisborough, Whitby, Robinhood’s Bay, Scarborough, Pickering, and Malton. In the two last mentioned towns, societies had been formed by John Manners, three years before; the membersat Pickering numbering fifteen, and at Malton nineteen. Mr. Hebdon, a clergyman, commanded the churchwardens and constables to pull Mr. Manners down, and threatened that he would, in the week following, banish all the Methodists from the town and neighbourhood. It so happened, however, that, in going from an entertainment a few nights after, the vindictive parson fell from his horse, and broke his neck.[660]
From Malton, Wesley proceeded to Beverley, Hull, Pocklington, and York. Here an odd incident occurred. Wesley simply writes: “York, Sunday, July 20, 1766.—After preaching at eight, I went to St. Saviour-gate church. Towards the close of the prayers, the rector sent the sexton to tell me the pulpit was at my service. I preached on the conclusion of the gospel for the day, ‘Not every one that saith unto Me, Lord, Lord,’ etc. I did not see one person laugh or smile, though we had an elegant congregation.”
Wesley says no one laughed or smiled, a fact worth noting, for there was enough in the event to make men smile against their wish. The truth is, the rector, the Rev. Mr. Cordeux, in his simplicity, made a great mistake. On previous occasions, he had felt it to be his duty to warn his congregation against hearing “that vagabond Wesley preach”; and now he himself invited Wesley to preach to the very congregation who had been warned against him. The explanation of the affair is this: Wesley, after preaching in his own chapel at Peasholm Green, went in his canonicals to Mr. Cordeux’s church. Mr. Cordeux saw that he was a clergyman, and, without knowing who he was, offered him his pulpit. After service, he asked his clerk if he knew who the stranger was. The clerk replied, “Sir, he is the vagabond Wesley, against whom you warned us.” “Aye, indeed!” said the astonished rector, “we are trapped; but never mind, we have had a good sermon.” The Dean of York heard of the affair, and threatened to lay a complaint before the archbishop; but Mr. Cordeux outstripped the dean, and told the story to the archbishop before the dean could reach him. “You did right,” replied his grace; and so the matter ended, with the exception, thatwhen Wesley came again, Mr. Cordeux made him a second offer of his pulpit, and Wesley preached upon the eight beatitudes.[661]
From York, Wesley went to Tadcaster and Pateley Bridge. At the latter place he had the largest congregation he had seen since he left Newcastle. “As it rained,” says he, “I desired the men to put on their hats; but, in two or three minutes, they pulled them off again, and seemed to mind nothing but how they might ‘know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.’” This devout behaviour was widely different to the rough treatment of Thomas Lee, fourteen years before, when his head was broken with a stone, and he himself rolled in the common sewer, and then thrown into the river.
On leaving Pateley, Wesley wended his way to Skipton, Addingham, Baildon, and Bradford. “At Bradford,” he writes, “there was so huge a multitude, and the rain so damped my voice, that many, in the skirts of the congregation, could not hear distinctly. They have just built a preaching house, fifty-four feet square, the largest octagon we have in England; and it is the first of the kind where the roof is built with common sense, rising only a third of its breadth; yet, it is as firm as any in England; nor does it at all hurt the walls. Why then does any roof rise higher? Only through want of skill, or want of honesty, in the builder.”
The first Methodist meeting-house in Bradford was the second floor of a large building near the cockpit, and which subsequently became the meeting place of the followers of Joanna Southcote, and then of the Swedenborgians, and then, in succession, was used as a barrack room, a paint shop, a school, a vagrants’ refuge, a warehouse, a printing office, and a joiner’s shop. Here the Methodists worshipped till about the year 1760, when the floor gave way, and they removed to Mr. Garnett’s barn. Then they erected the octagon chapel, so eulogised by Wesley, the first subscription to which, obtained by Richard Fawcett, amounted to the munificent sum of twopence,[662]and the entire cost of which was £997 8s.9d.[663]
From Bradford, Wesley made a tour to Colne, Padiham, Bacup, Heptonstall, Ewood, and Halifax. John Nelson had preached the first Methodist sermon in the last mentioned town, his pulpit being a washing tub turned upside down; and, among others who had been converted, was the celebrated Titus Knight, originally a poor collier, but ultimately one of Wesley’s itinerants, then an able Dissenting minister, and the father of a son who became vicar of this important town in Yorkshire. Another, who equally deserves notice, was a female, who suffered total blindness for nearly fourscore years, and who, when she joined the Methodists, had only three halfpence a day to live upon; and yet, out of that poor pittance, insisted upon giving a weekly contribution in her class, and assisted in paying the debts of Titus Knight.[664]
Grimshaw of Haworth was dead, and so was his son at Ewood; but Haworth church was still open; and, besides this, there was the small Methodist chapel, which had been built by Grimshaw, and which served the Methodists till 1828.[665]Grimshaw’s successor was the Rev. John Richardson, a native of Crosby, in Westmoreland, a man of polished manners, of unaffected piety, and of a mild and amiable disposition, and who died at Haworth a few weeks after Wesley died in London.[666]
Wesley had witnessed many a glorious scene in Grimshaw’s old churchyard; but never a more glorious one than awaited him on Sunday, August 3, 1766. He writes: “When the prayers at Haworth were ended, I preached from a little scaffold on the south side of the church. The communicants alone (a sight which has not been seen since Mr. Grimshaw’s death) filled the church. In the afternoon, the congregation was supposed to be the largest which had ever been there; but strength was given me in proportion; so that I believe all could hear.” He continues:
“Monday, August 4.—At one, I preached at Bingley, but with a heavy heart, finding so many of the Methodists here, as well as at Haworth, perverted by the anabaptists. I see clearer and clearer, none will keep to us, unless they keepto the Church. Whoever separate from the Church will separate from the Methodists.“
It will thus be seen that separation from the Church was still one of the ghosts that haunted Wesley’s path; and, hence, it will be found that this was one of the great topics discussed at his approaching conference, which was commenced in Leeds eight days after.
But before reviewing the proceedings of the conference, it is of some importance to understand the relation in which Wesley, at this time, stood towards his brother Charles. For many years, his brother had ceased to itinerate, and had confined his labours almost exclusively to London and Bristol; so that the gigantic toil of visiting all the Methodist societies in the United Kingdom fell upon Wesley himself. But, added to this, Charles Wesley was no longer his brother’s warm hearted, confidential counsellor. Charles disliked his brother’s marriage; and he was almost horrified at his brother’s concessions to the preachers who advocated separation from the Church; and, hence, without the thing being openly confessed, there was undoubtedly a sort of silent estrangement between them, very different from the close, genial, trustful, fraternal friendship which existed at the commencement of their Methodist career. The following extracts from Wesley’s letters refer to this.