“May 27, 1760.“Reverend and very dear Brother,—I bear in mind, with all thankfulness, the tender love and charitable prayers, with which God was pleased to inspire your heart, and the hearts of His dear children in Ireland, for my unhappy brother, myself, and our afflicted family. I have reason to bless God for the humbling lessons He has taught me, through these His awful visitations. O sir, is there much danger now, that I should pride myself upon my family? I doubt not, but that your labours in Ireland have been amply paid in their success. Earnest desires draw me towards you, but I am detained here, very much against my will, by a trust reposed in me by my late brother, to see his debts discharged, and other matters properly settled, that no further dishonour may be reflected on his memory. I would to God, I may meet you in Connaught, and give you a poor but hearty welcome at Loughrea; but fear that I cannot possibly be there before you leave. Let me entreat you, however, to pay a visit to my poor flock, for whom I am sorely grieved in my absence from them; and can only be comforted in the sweet hope, that you will not neglect them in your travels. You are heartily welcome to my church, if you please to make use of it; and I hope you will be truly welcome to the ears and hearts of all the people.“Your most unworthy, yet ever affectionate brother in the Lord,“Walter Shirley.”[387]
“May 27, 1760.
“Reverend and very dear Brother,—I bear in mind, with all thankfulness, the tender love and charitable prayers, with which God was pleased to inspire your heart, and the hearts of His dear children in Ireland, for my unhappy brother, myself, and our afflicted family. I have reason to bless God for the humbling lessons He has taught me, through these His awful visitations. O sir, is there much danger now, that I should pride myself upon my family? I doubt not, but that your labours in Ireland have been amply paid in their success. Earnest desires draw me towards you, but I am detained here, very much against my will, by a trust reposed in me by my late brother, to see his debts discharged, and other matters properly settled, that no further dishonour may be reflected on his memory. I would to God, I may meet you in Connaught, and give you a poor but hearty welcome at Loughrea; but fear that I cannot possibly be there before you leave. Let me entreat you, however, to pay a visit to my poor flock, for whom I am sorely grieved in my absence from them; and can only be comforted in the sweet hope, that you will not neglect them in your travels. You are heartily welcome to my church, if you please to make use of it; and I hope you will be truly welcome to the ears and hearts of all the people.
“Your most unworthy, yet ever affectionate brother in the Lord,
“Walter Shirley.”[387]
Another unpleasantness, belonging to the year 1760, was a most foul and dastardly attack on Whitefield, and, through him, upon the Methodists in general.
At this period, Samuel Foote, the inimitable zany, was at his zenith. He was born of highly respectable parents, at Truro, about the year 1720, and was educated at Worcester college, Oxford. He entered himself of the Temple, with aview of being called to the bar; but, instead of studying law, plunged into all the gaieties and dissipation of fashionable life; losing at the gaming table what his extravagance in living was not sufficient to consume. He married in 1741; but his conduct, as a husband, was far from affectionate; and, soon after his marriage, he was arrested for debt, and sent to gaol. Having squandered his fortune, he turned to the stage as a means of support, and made his theatricaldebut, in the Haymarket, at the age of twenty-four. His success was great, but his prodigality was greater. In 1766, a fall from his horse rendered it necessary to amputate his leg. He died in 1777, and was buried by torchlight in Westminster Abbey. His character, as delineated by his biographers, presents scarcely one amiable or respectable feature; and, indeed, considered apart from his peculiar and almost unequalled abilities for mimicking the foibles and faults of others, he was in all respects contemptible.
Such was the man who attacked Whitefield and Methodism in 1760. For ninety years, the execrable comedies, acted in English theatres, had been the bane and the reproach of the English nation. Comic poets had been the unwearied ministers of vice, and had done its work so thoroughly, that there was hardly a single virtue which had not been sacrificed at its polluted shrine. Innocence had been the sport of abandoned villainy, and religion made the jest of the licentious. In 1760, Samuel Foote crowned the whole, by “The Minor; a Comedy acted in the Haymarket theatre:” 8vo, 91 pages. Its professed object was to expose the absurdity, and to detect the hypocrisy, of Methodism; the author holding the idea, that ridicule was the only way of redressing an evil which was beyond the reach of law, and which reason was not able to correct. On the principle, that a man cannot touch pitch without defiling his fingers, we refrain from giving even the barest outline of Foote’s disgraceful comedy. Thousands applauded the inimitable actor, and laughed at Mrs. Cole and Dr. Squintum; all of them forgetting, that religion is too sacred to become the butt of theatrical buffoonery and of public mockery. The indignation of religious people was aroused; letters were written to newspapers; articles were published in magazines; and a whole swarm of pamphlets were givento the excited public; the most able of which were two by “A Minister of the Church of Christ,” one of them being entitled—“Christian and Critical Remarks on ‘The Minor’; in which the blasphemy, falsehood, and scurrility of that piece, are properly considered, answered, and exposed:” 8vo, 41 pages. Foote himself replied to this, in his own bantering and obscene style, telling the author that, from the title he assumes, “it is impossible to determine whether he is an authorised pastor, or a peruke maker; a real clergyman, or a corncutter.” He also published, but durst not act, another comedy, entitled “The Methodist; being a continuation and completion of the plan of ‘The Minor.’” The buffoon tells his readers, that Whitefield’s “countenance is not only inexpressive, but ludicrous; his dialect is not only provincial, but barbarous; his deportment not only awkward, but savage.” His mother, during her pregnancy, “dreamt that she was brought to bed of a tinder box, which, from a collision of the flint and steel, made by the midwife, conveyed sparks to Gloucester cathedral, and soon reduced it to ashes.” Whitefield himself, in his boyhood, “was dull, stupid, and heavy, totally incapable of attending to the business of his mother’s public house, though he had the credit of inventing the practice of soaping the tops of the pewter pots to diminish the quantity of liquor, and to increase and sustain the froth.”
This is too mild to be given as a fairspecimenof Foote’s disgusting ribaldry; but it is almost fouler than we like to print. Suffice it to remark further, that, though “The Minor” was performed before crowded London audiences for several months, such was the outcry raised against its profanity, that in November, 1760, Foote himself introduced several alterations, which he thought were less objectionable than the original terms and sentences.
But enough of the profligate Samuel Foote, who (according to the testimony of a person who knew the particulars of the case) was seized at Dover, with his mortal illness, while mimicking religious characters in general, and the Methodists in particular,[388]and almost immediately expired.
Other attacks were made upon Methodism, in 1760, though none so vulgar as Foote’s. One of these was “A Friendly and Compassionate Address to all serious and well disposed Methodists; in which their principal Errors concerning the doctrine of the new birth, their election, and the security of their salvation, and their notion of the community of Christian men’s goods, are largely displayed and represented. By Alexander Jephson, A.B., rector of the parish of Craike, in the county of Durham.” 8vo, 80 pages. Mr. Jephson tells the Methodists, that they have “fallen into fatal and dangerous errors, which may be of pernicious consequence to them both in this life and the next.” He affirms that, “when any persons are duly baptized into the Church, there is no doubt but that all their sins are immediately forgiven, and a new principle of piety and virtue is directly instilled into their minds by the grace of God’s Holy Spirit.” He exhorts the Methodists not to forsake the pastors of the Church of England, by giving up themselves “to the direction of guides who have nothing to recommend them, but vain and idle pretences to inspiration, and intimate conversations with God, and such immediate and powerful effects of their preaching as have caused, in some of their hearers, the most dreadful shriekings and groanings, convulsions and agitations.” Methodist itinerants are described as “an enthusiastical set of preachers, who are wandering up and down, through the whole nation, to destroy and unsettle all the reasonable notions of religion, and to throw men into the utmost distraction and confusion.” These are fair cullings from Mr. Jephson’s “friendlyand compassionate address.” Wesley says concerning it: “the tract is more considerable for its bulk, than for its matter, being little more than a dull repetition of what was published some years ago in ‘The Enthusiasm of the Methodists and Papists Compared.’”[389]
Another hostile publication was, “A Genuine Letter from a Methodist Preacher, in the country, to Laurence Sterne, M.A., prebendary of York. 1760.” 8vo, 22 pages. The letter pretends to rebuke Sterne for writing “Tristram Shandy,” and says the prebend has “studied plays more than theword of God, and takes his text generally from the writings of Shakspeare” rather than from the writings of the apostles. Altogether, it was a meaningless and profane performance, whose only object seems to have been to create a laugh.
Another publication, belonging to the same year, was, “A Vindication of the Seventeenth Article of the Church of England, from the Aspersions cast on it in a Sermon lately published by Mr. John Wesley. By John Oulton.” 8vo, 55 pages. This was intended to be a refutation of Wesley’s sermon on free grace, preached from Romans viii. 32, and deserves no further notice.
Another was entitled, “The Principles and Practices of the Methodists considered, in some Letters to the Leaders of that Sect.” 8vo, 78 pages. The writer, who signed himself “Academicus,” was a man of mark, the Rev. John Green, D.D.,[390]born at Beverley about 1706; a sizar in St. John’s college, Cambridge; then an usher in a school at Lichfield; then domestic chaplain of the Duke of Somerset; then rector of Borough Green; then regius professor of divinity, and one of his majesty’s chaplains; then, in 1756, dean of Lincoln; and, in 1764, bishop of Lincoln; a liberal prelate,—the only one who voted for the bill for the relief of protestant Dissenters; and who died suddenly, at Bath, in 1779. The pamphlet of Dr. Green is addressed to Mr. Berridge, of Everton. The author speaks of Berridge’s “graceless fraternity”; and warns him against being “led away by the vain presumption of extraordinary illuminations,” and against “contracting one of the most dangerous and deceitful of all religious maladies, the tumour of spiritual pride.” He tells him, that “he makes lofty pretensions, and assumes confident airs to amuse the vulgar.” He speaks of “the mysteries of Methodism, its conceits and inadvertencies, its foibles and failings, being cruelly exposed to the laughter of the incredulous, and the scoff of the profane.” He says, “elocution from a stool, or vociferation from a hillock, will act with much more effect, upon the multitude, than any kind of sober instruction given from that old fashioned eminence, the pulpit”; and describes, as the resultof “Methodistical oratory, a number of groaners, sighers, tumblers, and convulsionists, breaking out into a dreadful concert of screams, howlings, and lamentations.” In succession, Whitefield, Wesley, Hervey, Zinzendorf, and others come under the writer’s lash. The “fraternity” are charged with “dealing in all the little tricks of calumny and misrepresentation”; with endeavouring “to raise their own reputation by attempts to undermine that of others”; with “playing the droll, and enlivening their popular harangues with occasional diversions, and strokes of humour”; and with having “recourse to obscure and mystical language, which none but the elect can understand.”
Dr. Green was not content with this priestly onslaught. Immediately after, he published a second pamphlet of seventy-four pages, with the same title, but addressed, in this instance, to Whitefield, who is, not too politely, reminded of his “blue apron and snuffers at the Bell inn, in Gloucester”; and is told, that his “pretensions are weakly supported, though set off with so much pomp of expression,—like some aqueous plants, which spread a broad and stately leaf on the surface of the water, while the fibre, on which they depend for their support, is slenderer than a thread.” His Journal is called, “that curious repository of religious anecdotes,—that profound repertory of private reflections, exhibiting a medley of seeming pride and affected lowliness, of immoderate conceit and excessive humility.” These must serve as samples. Dr. Green, bishop of Lincoln, was an able man, and a vigorous writer; but he might have employed his learning and his talents to better purpose than in bantering the poor Methodists. On receiving his pamphlet, Wesley wrote: “in many things, I wholly agree with him; but there is a bitterness in him, which I should not have expected in a gentleman and a scholar.”[391]
Another unfriendly pamphlet, issued in 1760, was entitled, “A Fragment of the true Religion. Being the substance of two Letters from a Methodist Preacher in Cambridgeshire, to a Clergyman in Nottinghamshire.” 8vo, 25 pages. The “Methodist Preacher” was Berridge of Everton, and thefirst letter was one in which Berridge gave an account of his conversion and subsequent course of action; and was intended, by its writer, to be strictly private and confidential. The clergyman, however, to whom it was addressed, dishonourably allowed copies to be taken and circulated; and, moreover, commenced railing against the man who had written to him as a friend. Upon this, Berridge wrote to him a second letter, remonstrating with him on account of his treacherous behaviour; and, this also being copied and circulated, both the letters were surreptitiously published, with a scurrilous introduction, dated, “Grantham, February 2, 1760,” and signed “Faith Workless.”
In his second letter, Berridge, with righteous indignation, remarks:
“You charge me with being a Moravian. Credulous mortal! Why do you not charge me with being a murderer? You have just as much reason to call me one as the other. If you had lived in this neighbourhood, you would have known that I am utterly detested and continually reviled by the Moravians. And no wonder; for I warn all my hearers against them, both in public and private. Nay, I have been to Bedford, where there is a nest of them, to bear a preaching testimony against their corrupt principles and practices. However, since you are determined to call me a Moravian, and Mr. Wheeler is pleased to call me a madman, I think myself obliged to come down into the country, as soon as I can, to convince my friends, and your neighbours, that I am neither the one nor the other. I shall go round the neighbourhood, and preach twice a day. If your brethren will allow me the use of their pulpits, they shall have my thanks: if they will not, the fields are open, and I shall take a mountain for my pulpit, and the heavens for my sounding board. My blessed Master has set me the example; and, I trust, I shall neither be ashamed nor afraid to tread in His steps.”
“You charge me with being a Moravian. Credulous mortal! Why do you not charge me with being a murderer? You have just as much reason to call me one as the other. If you had lived in this neighbourhood, you would have known that I am utterly detested and continually reviled by the Moravians. And no wonder; for I warn all my hearers against them, both in public and private. Nay, I have been to Bedford, where there is a nest of them, to bear a preaching testimony against their corrupt principles and practices. However, since you are determined to call me a Moravian, and Mr. Wheeler is pleased to call me a madman, I think myself obliged to come down into the country, as soon as I can, to convince my friends, and your neighbours, that I am neither the one nor the other. I shall go round the neighbourhood, and preach twice a day. If your brethren will allow me the use of their pulpits, they shall have my thanks: if they will not, the fields are open, and I shall take a mountain for my pulpit, and the heavens for my sounding board. My blessed Master has set me the example; and, I trust, I shall neither be ashamed nor afraid to tread in His steps.”
Brave old Berridge! and yet, in the introduction to this very pamphlet, the Everton vicar is represented as “traveling round the country, attended by several idle sluts, who will neither mend his clothes nor wash his linen,” the result being that he had “preached many a discourse when he was sadly out at the elbows, and when his shirts were almost as black as the chimney.”
Another infamous production of the year 1760 must be noticed,—an octavo pamphlet of forty-eight pages, with the title, “The Crooked Disciple’s Remarks upon the Blind Guide’sMethod of Preaching for some years; being a collection of the principal words, sayings, phraseology, rhapsodies, hyperboles, parables, and miscellaneous incongruities of the sacred and profane, commonly, repeatedly, and peculiarly made use of by the Reverend Dr. Squintum, delivered by himviva voce, ex cathedra, at Tottenham Court, Moorfields, etc. A work never before attempted; taken verbatim from a constant attendance. By the learned Mr. John Harman, Regulator of Enthusiasts.” John Harman was a whimsical watchmaker, who was at the pains of taking down a number of Whitefield’s peculiarities, in shorthand.[392]The pamphlet which bears his name is one of the basest, coarsest, and most profane, published in the early days of Methodism. It professes to give a prayer and a sermon by Whitefield, with Whitefield’s action and intonation, and the people’s responses; and finishes with a postscript, informing the reader, that Whitefield’s “hummers, sighers, and weepers are hireling hypocrites, at two shillings and sixpence per week, and are the approbatives to his doctrine.”
Besides the above pamphlets, all published in England, there was another, larger than any yet mentioned, which was published in Ireland, in 1760, with the title, “Montanus Redivivus; or Montanism Revived, in the Principles and Discipline of the Methodists (commonly called Swaddlers): Being the substance of a sermon upon 1 John iv. 1, preached in the parish church of Hollymount, in the Diocese of Tuam, in the year 1756. To which are added several letters, which passed between the Rev. John Wesley and the Author. Also an Appendix. By the Rev. Mr. James Clark, a Presbyter of the Diocese of Tuam.” 8vo, 100 pages.
In this Irish effusion, the Methodists are described as “a set of enthusiastic pharisees in practice, but perfect latitudinarians in principle; quite indifferent as to any form of church government, whether presbyterian, independent, or episcopal, and looking upon the latter in no other light than that of some human law or constitution, subject to be changed at pleasure.” In accordance with this, they had “acted in a barefaced defiance to the authority and jurisdiction of thebishops; and, without their consent, had formed societies or conventicles, under certain rules of discipline and government, of their own invention, appointing leaders, directors, and superintendents over them. They had set up a new ministry of their own, contrary to the ministry of the Church, committing the preaching of the word of reconciliation, and the exercise of the power of the keys, to mere laymen and mechanics; and, though they occasionally came to church and sacrament, yet they plainly enough insinuated to the world, that they only waited for a seasonable opportunity, and more able heads, to form a new church, and make a total separation.” Mr. Clark proceeds to show, that, in their principles, practices, and pretences, the Methodists are the counterpart of the Montanists, “enthusiastic sectaries who make the way to heaven much more narrow and difficult than either Jesus Christ or His apostles have made it; and requiring such degrees of perfection as are not in the power of human nature, in its present state of infirmity, to attain to; the natural consequence of which is, that such as find themselves unable to arrive at such perfection grow desperate, and give themselves over to all manner of licentiousness; and such as, through a heated and enthusiastic imagination, fancy that they either actually do or can attain to such perfection, are filled with all manner of spiritual pride, blasphemy, and arrogance.” Mr. Clark’s readers are exhorted “never to give ear to the vain and fantastical flights of crazy pated enthusiasts, schismatical, unauthorised, illegal lay preachers, whose discourses are stuffed with praises and panegyrics of their own righteousness and holiness.”
Wesley had recently published his sermon, entitled “Catholic Spirit,” in which he stated, that he once zealously maintained the opinion, that every one born in England ought to be a member of the Church of England, and, consequently, to worship God in the manner which that Church prescribes. This opinion he could maintain no longer. He believed his own mode of worship to be “truly primitive and apostolical”; but acknowledges that his “belief is no rule for another.” He believed the episcopal form of church government to be scriptural and apostolical; but, he adds, “if you think the presbyterian or independent is better, think sostill, and act accordingly.” Wesley sent this celebrated sermon to Mr. Clark, and this led to the correspondence between Clark and Wesley, published in “Montanus Redivivus.”[393]Mr. Clark, in his first letter, informs Wesley that, when he preached his sermon on 1 John iv. 1, Mr. Langston, said to be one of Wesley’s lay preachers, was present; and, taking offence, wrote him an epistle, in which “the Spirit forgot to direct him to write common sense, orthography, or English”; and that he suspects Langston’s representations to Wesley had induced the latter to send him the sermon on “Catholic Spirit,” as “a genteel and tacit reproof, for making any inquiry into the religion and principles of the Methodists.” He states that Langston had publicly declared “himself to be as righteous and as free from sin as Jesus Christ; and that it was impossible for him to sin, because the Spirit of God dwelt bodily in him.” Mr. Clark further states, that he has read Wesley’s sermon, and asserts that Wesley’s “propositions and observations have no more foundation in the text, than in the first chapter of Genesis.” It is right to add, that Langston was not one of Wesley’s preachers, and that Wesley thought the man an enthusiast.
Another publication, belonging to the year 1760, must have a passing notice,—“Scriptural Remedies for Healing the unhappy Divisions in the Church of England, particularly of those People called the Methodists. By Edward Goldney, sen., gent., widower.” 8vo, 64 pages. The intention of the eccentric author was good; but that is the highest, indeed, the only, praise we can render him. He finds fault with the clergy, who only visit those of their parishioners who “give them a jugg of good smooth ale, or a mugg of strong October, a bottle of wine, or a bowl of punch”; and then, in his own way and style, argues that, if the clergy would only become what they ought to be, “both high and low, rich and poor would soon be cured of itching ears. Then cobblers and shoemakers, tinkers and braziers, blacksmiths and farriers, tailors and staymakers, barbers and periwig makers, carpenters and joiners, masons and bricklayers, bakers and butchers, farmers and cowkeepers, maltsters and brewers,combers and weavers, plumbers and glaziers, turners and cabinet makers, hedgers and ditchers, threshers and thatchers, colliers and carriers, carmen and scavengers, coopers and basket makers, would have no hearers.” With this enumeration of the trades and calling of the Methodist itinerants, we make ourcongéto hairbrained Edward Goldney.
These were the principal anti-Methodistic pamphlets published in 1760; but, besides these, there was scrimmaging in newspapers and magazines, which deserves attention. An anonymous writer, in theLondon Magazine, attacked the Methodists, as “a restless, turbulent people, remarkable for nothing, but their abusive language and uncharitable sentiments”; and described Methodism as “a spurious mixture of enthusiasm and blasphemy, popery and quakerism”; and the teaching of its preachers as “gross, personal abuse; vague, incoherent reasoning; and loose, empty declamation.”[394]A writer, who signed his letter “Hermas,” replied to this stale balderdash; and rejoinder after rejoinder followed. Grave objection was raised to the name of Methodist, as a misnomer, because the Methodists were utterly withoutmethod.[395]A classleader was described as “an illiterate hog, a feeder of swine, presiding at the holy rites of confession, as spiritual pastor and father confessor.” “Old as I am,” wrote the nameless soothsayer, “I make not the least doubt but, with these eyes, I shall see, that this imaginary candle of the Lord, which the Methodists have set up, will soon dwindle into a snuff, and expire in a stink.”[396]In a base inuendo, he insinuated that some of the mysterious meetings of the Methodists were “in dark rooms, with naked figures, typical fires, and rattling chains.”[397]
In the same periodical,[398]Stephen Church proposed to Wesley twenty queries, in which he coarsely assailed him as “the first protestant pope; a cunning quaker in disguise, acting the second edition of Friend Barclay, and privately betraying the Church, as Judas did his Master, with a kiss.” Another correspondent, signing his letter “R.,” remarked: “the present troublers of our Israel are that heterogeneousmass, the Methodists; who, whatever they may pretend, are avowed enemies to the doctrine and discipline of our Church, and have faithfully copied the worst men in the worst times. If such men’s enthusiastical notions be the true doctrine of Jesus Christ, better it would be to be a Jew, a Turk, an infidel, than to be a Christian; for it is much better not to believe in Jesus Christ, than to believe such doctrines to be His, as are against common reason and common sense, and are repugnant to the first principles of truth and equity.”[399]
InLloyd’s Evening Postthe same paper war was waged. “Philodemus” wished for “a court of judicature, to detect the cunning cant and hypocrisy of all pretenders to sanctity and devotion;” and depicted the Methodists in colours not the brightest. Wesley replied to him as follows.
“November 17, 1760.“Sir,—In your last paper, we had a letter, from a very angry gentleman, whopersonatesa clergyman, but is, I presume, a retainer to the theatre. He is very warm against the people vulgarly termed Methodists, ‘ridiculous impostors,’ ‘religious buffoons,’ as he styles them; ‘saint errants’ (a pretty and quaint phrase), full of ‘inconsiderateness, madness, melancholy, enthusiasm’; teaching ‘a knotty and unintelligible system of religion,’ yea ‘a contradictory or self contradicting,’ nay ‘a mere illusion,’ a ‘destructive scheme, and of pernicious consequence.’“Methinks the gentleman has a little mistaken his character: he seems to have exchanged the sock for the buskin. But, be this as it may, general charges prove nothing; let us come to particulars. Here they are.”
“November 17, 1760.
“Sir,—In your last paper, we had a letter, from a very angry gentleman, whopersonatesa clergyman, but is, I presume, a retainer to the theatre. He is very warm against the people vulgarly termed Methodists, ‘ridiculous impostors,’ ‘religious buffoons,’ as he styles them; ‘saint errants’ (a pretty and quaint phrase), full of ‘inconsiderateness, madness, melancholy, enthusiasm’; teaching ‘a knotty and unintelligible system of religion,’ yea ‘a contradictory or self contradicting,’ nay ‘a mere illusion,’ a ‘destructive scheme, and of pernicious consequence.’
“Methinks the gentleman has a little mistaken his character: he seems to have exchanged the sock for the buskin. But, be this as it may, general charges prove nothing; let us come to particulars. Here they are.”
Wesley then proceeds to answer the remarks of “Philodemus” concerning “the grace of assurance, good works,” etc., and continues:
“This is the sum of your correspondent’s charge, not one article of which can be proved. But whether it can or no, ‘we have made them,’ says he, ‘a theatrical scoff, and the common jest and scorn of every chorister in the street.’ It may be so; but whether you have done well herein, may still admit of a question. However, you cannot but wish, ‘we had some formal court of judicature erected to take cognisance of such matters.’ Nay,cur optas quod habes? Why do you wish for what you have already? The court is erected; the holy, devout playhouse is become thehouse of mercy; and does take cognisance ‘of all pretenders to sanctity, and happily furnishes us with a discerning spirit to distinguishbetween right and wrong.’ But I do not stand to their sentence; I appeal to Scripture and reason; and, by these alone, consent to be judged.“I am, sir, your humble servant,“John Wesley.”[400]
“This is the sum of your correspondent’s charge, not one article of which can be proved. But whether it can or no, ‘we have made them,’ says he, ‘a theatrical scoff, and the common jest and scorn of every chorister in the street.’ It may be so; but whether you have done well herein, may still admit of a question. However, you cannot but wish, ‘we had some formal court of judicature erected to take cognisance of such matters.’ Nay,cur optas quod habes? Why do you wish for what you have already? The court is erected; the holy, devout playhouse is become thehouse of mercy; and does take cognisance ‘of all pretenders to sanctity, and happily furnishes us with a discerning spirit to distinguishbetween right and wrong.’ But I do not stand to their sentence; I appeal to Scripture and reason; and, by these alone, consent to be judged.
“I am, sir, your humble servant,
“John Wesley.”[400]
“Philodemus” pretended to answer Wesley’s letter, under another alias, “Somebody;” but was obliged to have recourse to blustering abuse, telling Wesley that “every serious protestant despises the enthusiastic madness of Methodism, and rejects him and his followers as members of that community”; and then politely adding, that “arguing with Methodists is like pounding fools in a mortar.”
In the next issue ofLloyd’s Evening Post, November 24, Wesley referred to this and other attacks as follows.
“November 22, 1760.“Sir,—Just as I had finished the letter published in your last Friday’s paper, four tracts came into my hands: one written, or procured to be written, by Mrs. Downes;[401]one by a clergyman in the county of Durham;[402]the third by a gentleman of Cambridge;[403]and the fourth by a member (I suppose, dignitary) of the Church of Rome.[404]How gladly would I leave all these to themselves, and let them say just what they please! as my day is far spent, and my taste for controversy is utterly lost and gone. But this would not be doing justice to the world, who might take silence for a proof of guilt. I shall therefore say a word concerning each.”
“November 22, 1760.
“Sir,—Just as I had finished the letter published in your last Friday’s paper, four tracts came into my hands: one written, or procured to be written, by Mrs. Downes;[401]one by a clergyman in the county of Durham;[402]the third by a gentleman of Cambridge;[403]and the fourth by a member (I suppose, dignitary) of the Church of Rome.[404]How gladly would I leave all these to themselves, and let them say just what they please! as my day is far spent, and my taste for controversy is utterly lost and gone. But this would not be doing justice to the world, who might take silence for a proof of guilt. I shall therefore say a word concerning each.”
After doing this, he concludes thus:
“Is it possible any protestants, nay, protestant clergyman, should buy these tracts to give away? Is then the introducing popery the only way to overthrow Methodism? If they know this, and choose popery as the smaller evil of the two, they are consistent with themselves. But if they do not intend this, I wish them to consider more seriously what they do.“I am, sir, your humble servant,“John Wesley.”
“Is it possible any protestants, nay, protestant clergyman, should buy these tracts to give away? Is then the introducing popery the only way to overthrow Methodism? If they know this, and choose popery as the smaller evil of the two, they are consistent with themselves. But if they do not intend this, I wish them to consider more seriously what they do.
“I am, sir, your humble servant,
“John Wesley.”
The correspondence between Wesley and “Philodemus,” who changed his signature every time he wrote a new letter, was continued until Christmas. The anonymous slanderer accused Wesley of plundering the poor; and, in proof, referred to the meeting-houses he had built. Wesley replied:
“Don’t you know, sir, those houses are none of mine? I made them over to trustees long ago. I have food to eat, and raiment to put on; and Iwill have no more, till I turn Turk or pagan.“I am, sir, in very good humour, your well wisher,“John Wesley.”[405]
“Don’t you know, sir, those houses are none of mine? I made them over to trustees long ago. I have food to eat, and raiment to put on; and Iwill have no more, till I turn Turk or pagan.
“I am, sir, in very good humour, your well wisher,
“John Wesley.”[405]
Wesley suspected “Philodemus” to be a friend of Foote’s; or, at all events, a patron of the theatre; but this the fighter in ambush positively denied, and said he was a constant attender at church, had read the Bible in four different languages, and was personally known to some of the best theologians in the nation. The man, however, lost his temper. His letters evinced considerable ability; but Wesley’s answers stung him to the quick. He was wounded, and could not avoid wincing. In his last lucubration, published December 10, he observed: “I shall not give myself the trouble to write to you any more, as it is only wasting paper to cavil with shuffling controvertists;” and then he finished by proposing to hold a personal discussion with Wesley, at which “a dignified clergyman of the Church of England should preside, and be the umpire of the debate.” On December 24, Wesley replied as follows.
“For the Editor of ‘Lloyd’s Evening Post.’“To Mr. T. H.,aliasE. L., etc., etc.“What my good friend again? only a little disguised with a new name, and a few scraps of Latin? I hoped, indeed, you had been pretty well satisfied before; but, since you desire to hear a little further from me, I will add a few words, and endeavour to set our little controversy in a still clearer light.“Last month you publicly attacked the people called Methodists, without either fear or wit. I considered each charge, and, I conceive, refuted it, to the satisfaction of all indifferent persons. You renewed the attack, not byprovinganything, but byaffirmingthe same things over and over. I replied, and, without taking notice of the dull, low scurrility, either of the first or second letter, confined myself to the merits of the case, and cleared away the dirt you had thrown.“You now heap together ten paragraphs more, most of which require very little answer.”
“For the Editor of ‘Lloyd’s Evening Post.’
“To Mr. T. H.,aliasE. L., etc., etc.
“What my good friend again? only a little disguised with a new name, and a few scraps of Latin? I hoped, indeed, you had been pretty well satisfied before; but, since you desire to hear a little further from me, I will add a few words, and endeavour to set our little controversy in a still clearer light.
“Last month you publicly attacked the people called Methodists, without either fear or wit. I considered each charge, and, I conceive, refuted it, to the satisfaction of all indifferent persons. You renewed the attack, not byprovinganything, but byaffirmingthe same things over and over. I replied, and, without taking notice of the dull, low scurrility, either of the first or second letter, confined myself to the merits of the case, and cleared away the dirt you had thrown.
“You now heap together ten paragraphs more, most of which require very little answer.”
After answering nine of them, Wesley continues:
“In the last, you give me a fair challenge to a ‘personal dispute.’ Not so: you have fallen upon me in public; and to the public I appeal. Letall men, not any single umpire, judge, whether I have not fully refuted your charge, and cleared the people called Methodists from the foul aspersions, which, without why or wherefore, you had thrown upon them. Let all of my countrymen judge, which of us have spoken the words of truth and soberness, and which has treated the other with a temper suitable to the gospel.“If the general voice of mankind gives it against you, I hope you will be henceforth less flippant with your pen. I assure you, as little as you think of it, the Methodists are not such fools as you suppose. But their desire is to live peaceably with all men; and none desires this more than“John Wesley.”[406]
“In the last, you give me a fair challenge to a ‘personal dispute.’ Not so: you have fallen upon me in public; and to the public I appeal. Letall men, not any single umpire, judge, whether I have not fully refuted your charge, and cleared the people called Methodists from the foul aspersions, which, without why or wherefore, you had thrown upon them. Let all of my countrymen judge, which of us have spoken the words of truth and soberness, and which has treated the other with a temper suitable to the gospel.
“If the general voice of mankind gives it against you, I hope you will be henceforth less flippant with your pen. I assure you, as little as you think of it, the Methodists are not such fools as you suppose. But their desire is to live peaceably with all men; and none desires this more than
“John Wesley.”[406]
Mob persecution was bad enough; but persecution like this was worse. No wonder that Wesley felt, that his “taste for controversy was utterly lost and gone.” His one object was to preach Christ and to save souls; but, despite himself, large portions of his time were most vexatiously occupied in defending himself and his societies from the malignant and unscrupulous attacks of his enemies. He was a match for the most trenchant of his foes; but preaching, not fighting, was the work to which he wished to devote his talents, his energies, and his life.
Besides this annoyance from the public press, Wesley had great anxiety from his own societies. The question of separation from the Established Church was still, among the Methodists, the great topic of the time. The agitation existed not in England only; but had spread to Ireland also. At Athlone, for instance, some of the Methodists went to church and sacrament; but others absolutely refused to go, because the minister was not a child of God, nor a preacher of sound doctrine. The Hon. and Rev. Walter Shirley wrote to Wesley, in great alarm, concerning this, and, in conclusion, said: “I have hitherto learnt to consider the Methodists, not as any sect, but as the purer part of the Church of England; but, if any of them grow so wantonly fond of division as to form a schism, I foresee they will lose much of the gospel meekness, humility, and love; and a party zeal will take place, instead of a zeal according to knowledge.”[407]
In London, the same subject created great excitement. Aweek after Wesley left the metropolis for his tour to the north and to Ireland, Thomas Maxfield wrote to him as follows: “The affair of leaving the Church has hurt the minds of many, on both sides. I hope it will be fully settled at conference. I endeavour, as far as I can safely, to be on neither side.”[408]
The preachers at Norwich—Paul Greenwood, Thomas Mitchell, and John Murlin, without Wesley’s permission, or consulting any of their coadjutors, began to administer the sacrament to the somewhat mongrel society in that city. Charles Wesley was enraged, and, early in March, wrote to his brother thus.
“Dear Brother,—We are come to the Rubicon. Shall we pass, or shall we not? In the fear of God, and in the name of Jesus Christ, let us ask, ‘Lord, what wouldestThouhave us to do?’ The case stands thus. Three preachers, whom we thought we could have depended upon, have taken upon them to administer the sacrament, without any ordination, and without acquainting us, or even yourself, of it beforehand. Why may not all the preachers do the same, if each is judge of his own right to do it? And every oneisleft to act as he pleases, if we take no notice of them that have so despised their brethren. That the rest will soon follow their example I believe; because (1) They think they may do it with impunity. (2) Because, a large majority imagine they have a right, as preachers, to administer the sacraments. So long ago as the conference at Leeds, I took down their names. (3) Because, they have betrayed an impatience to separate. The preachers in Cornwall, and others, wondered it had not been mentioned at our last conference. Jacob Rowell’s honesty I commend. Christopher Hopper, Joseph Cownley, John Hampson, and several more, are ripe for a separation. Even Mr. Crisp says, he would give the sacrament if you bade him. The young preachers, you know, are raw, unprincipled men, and entirely at the mercy of the old. You could persuade them to anything; and not you only, but Charles Perronet could do the same, or any of the preachers that have left us, or any of the three at Norwich. Upon the whole, I am fully persuaded, almost all our preachers are corrupted already. More and more will give the sacrament, and set up for themselves, even before we die; and all, except the few that get orders, will turn Dissenters before or after our death. You must wink very hard not to see all this. You have connived at it too, too long. But I now call upon you to consider with me what is to be done; first, to prevent a separation; secondly, to save the few uncorrupted preachers; thirdly, to make the best of those that are corrupted.”[409]
“Dear Brother,—We are come to the Rubicon. Shall we pass, or shall we not? In the fear of God, and in the name of Jesus Christ, let us ask, ‘Lord, what wouldestThouhave us to do?’ The case stands thus. Three preachers, whom we thought we could have depended upon, have taken upon them to administer the sacrament, without any ordination, and without acquainting us, or even yourself, of it beforehand. Why may not all the preachers do the same, if each is judge of his own right to do it? And every oneisleft to act as he pleases, if we take no notice of them that have so despised their brethren. That the rest will soon follow their example I believe; because (1) They think they may do it with impunity. (2) Because, a large majority imagine they have a right, as preachers, to administer the sacraments. So long ago as the conference at Leeds, I took down their names. (3) Because, they have betrayed an impatience to separate. The preachers in Cornwall, and others, wondered it had not been mentioned at our last conference. Jacob Rowell’s honesty I commend. Christopher Hopper, Joseph Cownley, John Hampson, and several more, are ripe for a separation. Even Mr. Crisp says, he would give the sacrament if you bade him. The young preachers, you know, are raw, unprincipled men, and entirely at the mercy of the old. You could persuade them to anything; and not you only, but Charles Perronet could do the same, or any of the preachers that have left us, or any of the three at Norwich. Upon the whole, I am fully persuaded, almost all our preachers are corrupted already. More and more will give the sacrament, and set up for themselves, even before we die; and all, except the few that get orders, will turn Dissenters before or after our death. You must wink very hard not to see all this. You have connived at it too, too long. But I now call upon you to consider with me what is to be done; first, to prevent a separation; secondly, to save the few uncorrupted preachers; thirdly, to make the best of those that are corrupted.”[409]
Charles Wesley’s terms were far too strong. To say that“almost all the preachers werecorrupted,” because they wished to separate from acorruptedchurch, and because they were desirous that their societies and congregations generally should have the same advantages which the Methodists in London and Bristol had,—namely, the Lord’s supper in their own chapels, and Divine service there on the forenoon of the sabbath day,—was to employ language either unmeaning, or unauthorised; either extravagantly foolish, or something worse. Charles Wesley’s temper was warm; his spirit was impetuous; and, had it not been for John’s more calm and sober action, his impulsiveness would, more than once, have shaken Methodism to its centre, if not absolutely have shivered it into a thousand atoms. No wonder, that while he speaks of the influence of his brother, and even of Charles Perronet, he makes no mention of his own. The truth is, by his extreme churchism, his influence among the preachers was almostnil; and, to the day of his death, he never recovered the position in which he stood when Methodism was first begun.
The action taken by the itinerant triumvirate at Norwich thoroughly alarmed him. On the 6th of March, he wrote to Nicholas Gilbert, one of the oldest preachers, saying:—
“You have heard of Paul Greenwood, John Murlin, and Thomas Mitchell’s presuming to give the sacrament at Norwich. They never acquainted their fellow labourers, no, not even my brother, of their design. They did it without any ordination, either by bishops or elders; upon the sole authority of a sixpenny licence: nay, all had not that. Do you think they acted right? If the other preachers follow their example, not only separation, but general confusion, must follow. My soul abhors the thought of separating from the Church of England. You and all the preachers know, if my brother should ever leave it, I should leave him, or rather he me. You would rather waive your right, if you had it (which I absolutely deny), of ordaining yourselves priests, than occasion so great an evil. You must become at last either Church ministers or Dissenting. Such as addict themselves thereto, God will make a way for their regular ordination in the Church. With these I desire to live and die. If you are of the number, I look upon you as my brother, my son, and owe you all I can do for you, as to soul, body, and estate. Now consider, and speak your mind. Will you take me for your father, brother, friend? or will you not?”[410]
“You have heard of Paul Greenwood, John Murlin, and Thomas Mitchell’s presuming to give the sacrament at Norwich. They never acquainted their fellow labourers, no, not even my brother, of their design. They did it without any ordination, either by bishops or elders; upon the sole authority of a sixpenny licence: nay, all had not that. Do you think they acted right? If the other preachers follow their example, not only separation, but general confusion, must follow. My soul abhors the thought of separating from the Church of England. You and all the preachers know, if my brother should ever leave it, I should leave him, or rather he me. You would rather waive your right, if you had it (which I absolutely deny), of ordaining yourselves priests, than occasion so great an evil. You must become at last either Church ministers or Dissenting. Such as addict themselves thereto, God will make a way for their regular ordination in the Church. With these I desire to live and die. If you are of the number, I look upon you as my brother, my son, and owe you all I can do for you, as to soul, body, and estate. Now consider, and speak your mind. Will you take me for your father, brother, friend? or will you not?”[410]
What was this but an attempt to divide the Methodist itinerants, and to place himself at the head of one party, while his brother was left as the leader of the other?
A day later, he wrote to the same effect to John Johnson, an itinerant of five years’ standing, and added:—
“Things are come to a crisis. Every preacher must consider now what will become of him. My brother and I have almost finished our course. After our departure, youmustbecome either Dissenting or Church ministers. To which haveyouaddicted yourself? If to the meeting, let us part friends. If your conscience suffers you to accept of orders in the Church of England, I nothing doubt your admission. If you love the Church, you are nearer and dearer to me than all my natural relations. All I can do for you, as to soul, body, and estate, I ought and will do, the Lord being my helper.”[411]
“Things are come to a crisis. Every preacher must consider now what will become of him. My brother and I have almost finished our course. After our departure, youmustbecome either Dissenting or Church ministers. To which haveyouaddicted yourself? If to the meeting, let us part friends. If your conscience suffers you to accept of orders in the Church of England, I nothing doubt your admission. If you love the Church, you are nearer and dearer to me than all my natural relations. All I can do for you, as to soul, body, and estate, I ought and will do, the Lord being my helper.”[411]
Three weeks after, he wrote as follows to John Nelson.
“London,March 27, 1760.“My dear Brother,—I think you are no weathercock. What think you then of licensing yourself as a protestant Dissenter, and baptizing and administering the Lord’s supper, and all the while calling yourself a Church of England man? Is this honest? consistent? just? Yet this is the practice of several of our sons in the gospel, even of some whom I most loved, and most depended on. My brother suffers them. Will not all the rest follow their example? and will not general separation ensue? John, I love thee from my heart; yet rather than see thee a Dissenting minister, I wish to see thee smiling in thy coffin.”[412]
“London,March 27, 1760.
“My dear Brother,—I think you are no weathercock. What think you then of licensing yourself as a protestant Dissenter, and baptizing and administering the Lord’s supper, and all the while calling yourself a Church of England man? Is this honest? consistent? just? Yet this is the practice of several of our sons in the gospel, even of some whom I most loved, and most depended on. My brother suffers them. Will not all the rest follow their example? and will not general separation ensue? John, I love thee from my heart; yet rather than see thee a Dissenting minister, I wish to see thee smiling in thy coffin.”[412]
He had already written to Christopher Hopper, and Christopher had answered him. The following was a rejoinder.
“London,March 27, 1760.“My dear Brother,—You justly observe, it is not my way to hear one side only. You have not been suffered to speak; your complaints have been slighted; your reasons not attended to; your old worn out brethren left, to the parish. What must be your end? This question ought to be asked, considered, urged, insisted on, till it be answered to your full satisfaction.“Here is a poor Methodist preacher, who has given up his business for the sake of preaching the gospel. Perhaps he has got a wife, and children, and nothing to keep them. By labouring like a horse, and travelling like a postboy, for ten or a dozen years, his strength is exhausted; yet he is able, and quite willing, to do what he can still. But how shall he get bread for his family? That Mr. Superintendent will look to.“Well; be it so. But what will become of this old, faithful preacher, when my brother and I are dead. ‘He must turn Dissenting or Church minister.’ I grant it; there is no medium.“‘But will you,’ you ask us, ‘now use all your interest to get him ordained?’ I answer for myself, yes; and will begin to-morrow; or never blame him for turning Dissenter. If any of you prefer the service of the Dissenters, I would let you depart in peace. If your heart is as my heart, and you dare venture in the same bottom, then am I your faithful servant for the residue of my days, and bound to do all I can for you, as to soul, body, and estate.”[413]
“London,March 27, 1760.
“My dear Brother,—You justly observe, it is not my way to hear one side only. You have not been suffered to speak; your complaints have been slighted; your reasons not attended to; your old worn out brethren left, to the parish. What must be your end? This question ought to be asked, considered, urged, insisted on, till it be answered to your full satisfaction.
“Here is a poor Methodist preacher, who has given up his business for the sake of preaching the gospel. Perhaps he has got a wife, and children, and nothing to keep them. By labouring like a horse, and travelling like a postboy, for ten or a dozen years, his strength is exhausted; yet he is able, and quite willing, to do what he can still. But how shall he get bread for his family? That Mr. Superintendent will look to.
“Well; be it so. But what will become of this old, faithful preacher, when my brother and I are dead. ‘He must turn Dissenting or Church minister.’ I grant it; there is no medium.
“‘But will you,’ you ask us, ‘now use all your interest to get him ordained?’ I answer for myself, yes; and will begin to-morrow; or never blame him for turning Dissenter. If any of you prefer the service of the Dissenters, I would let you depart in peace. If your heart is as my heart, and you dare venture in the same bottom, then am I your faithful servant for the residue of my days, and bound to do all I can for you, as to soul, body, and estate.”[413]
On the same day, he wrote the following to Grimshaw, of Haworth.