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                           THE LIFE AND TIMES

                                 OF THE

                        REV. SAMUEL WESLEY, M.A.

[Illustration: _Sam^ḷ Wesley._]

                           THE LIFE AND TIMES
                                 OF THE
                       REV. SAMUEL WESLEY, M.A.,

                           RECTOR OF EPWORTH,

                           AND FATHER OF THE

                     REVS. JOHN AND CHARLES WESLEY,

                    THE FOUNDERS OF THE METHODISTS.




                                   BY

                              L. TYERMAN.




                                LONDON:
            SIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO., STATIONERS’ HALL COURT.
                    SOLD ALSO AT 66 PATERNOSTER ROW.
                                 1866.

                                   TO

                       THE REVEREND WILLIAM SHAW,

                 PRESIDENT OF THE METHODIST CONFERENCE,

                          =This Volume=

           IS MOST RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED,

                           AS A SMALL TRIBUTE

                                 TO HIS

              LONG AND USEFUL LABOURS AT HOME AND ABROAD,

                               AND AS AN

                 EXPRESSION OF THE BENEFIT DERIVED FROM

                         HIS PRIVATE FRIENDSHIP

                                   BY

                                                         THE AUTHOR.




                                PREFACE.


I have the conviction that due honour has never yet been paid to Samuel
Wesley. The praises of his noble wife have been sung loudly and long;
and no one acquainted with her character and history, can doubt that Mrs
Wesley deserves all the laurels that have been awarded her. While the
general public, however, have justly regarded her as a lady of the most
eminent abilities, and most exalted piety, they have been in danger of
thinking that her husband, though learned, was often foolish; and though
pious, was painfully eccentric, stern, and quarrelsome. This is utterly
unfounded, and cruelly unjust. I submit, with all due deference to
others, that while the Methodists owe an incalculable debt of gratitude
to “the mother of the Wesleys,” they owe an equal debt to the
honest-hearted father. I trust that the present work contains sufficient
evidence of this.

It is also hoped that the following pages will help the reader to a
better understanding of the position occupied by Samuel Wesley’s sons,
John and Charles; and of the difficulties and discouragements
encountered by the illustrious first Methodists.

The “Memoirs of the Wesley Family,” by Dr Clarke, though loosely
written, have been of great service in the compilation of the present
volume; but a large number of other works have also been consulted. I
have carefully examined everything that Mr Wesley published, except
perhaps his first political pamphlet; and as that was published
anonymously, I cannot be _certain_ that I have seen it. I am not aware
that there is any _printed_ matter, casting light on Mr Wesley’s
history, that I have not laid under contribution. To have cited all the
authorities from which the work has been compiled, would have crowded
the margin with an inconvenient number of titles of tracts, pamphlets,
and books. A few are given, and the remainder can be easily adduced if
needed.

For the chapters on national affairs, I am largely indebted to Macaulay,
and to Knight’s “Pictorial History of England;” also to the _Tatler_,
_Spectator_, and _Guardian_; and to other publications of a kindred
character. In some instances, quotations have not been marked by
inverted commas; because they have not been made continuously, but
pickings from ten or a dozen pages of another work have been put into
half a page of this. I hope that this general acknowledgment will save
me from the charge of plagiary.

A few original letters are now for the first time published. For three
of these, I am indebted to the kind courtesy of the Rev. Elijah Hoole,
D.D.

The portrait is taken from the large engraving published in the year of
Mr Wesley’s decease, in his “Dissertations on the Book of Job.”

The work has been a labour of love; and if the reader derives as much
profit and pleasure in perusing it as the author has had in writing it,
I shall be amply satisfied.

                                                         L. TYERMAN.

  STANHOPE HOUSE, CLAPHAM PARK,
      _January 18, 1866_.




                               CONTENTS.


                             --------------

                               CHAPTER I.

                    TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO—1640–1665.

                                                            PAGE

        Convocation in 1640,                                   1

        Divine Right of Kings,                                 1

        Civil Wars Commenced,                                  2

        Ejected Clergymen,                                     3

        Ecclesiastical Outrages,                               4

        Sports Suppressed,                                     4

        New Sects,                                             4

        Assembly of Divines,                                   5

        Church of England during the Commonwealth,             6

        Cromwell’s  “Triers,”                                  7

        Morals of the Nation,                                  8

        Restoration of Charles II.,                           10

        Persecutions,                                         12

        Archbishop Usher’s  Scheme,                           12

        “The Healing Declaration,”                            13

        Meeting to Revise the Liturgy,                        14

        Solemn League and Covenant,                           15

        Act of Uniformity,                                    16

        Alterations in Book of Common Prayer,                 17

        St Bartholomew’s Day,                                 19

        Three Classes of Conforming Ministers,                20

        Nonconforming Ministers,                              21

        Conventicle Act,                                      25

        Five-Mile Act,                                        25

                              CHAPTER II.

                          PARENTAGE—1600–1670.

        Bartholomew Wesley,                                   28

        His Attempt to Arrest King Charles,                   29

        His Ejectment and Death,                              32

        John Wesley’s Birth,                                  32

        John Wesley at Oxford,                                33

        John Wesley’s Appointment to Preach,                  34

        John Wesley’s Dialogue with Bishop of Bristol,        36

        John Wesley’s Arrest and Trial,                       43

        John Wesley’s Ejectment and Persecutions,             46

        John Wesley’s Friend, Joseph Alleine,                 47

        John Wesley’s Character and Portrait,                 50

        “The Patriarch of Dorchester,”                        51

        Thomas Fuller,                                        52

                              CHAPTER III.

                         SCHOOL DAYS—1662–1683.

        Dorchester School,                                    55

        National Events during S. Wesley’s Youth,             55

        Titus Oates,                                          57

        National Immorality,                                  62

        Great Men,                                            64

        S. Wesley intended for Dissenting Ministry,           65

        S. Wesley sent to London,                             65

        Edward Veal,                                          65

        Charles Morton,                                       66

        Morton’s Pupils,                                      68

        Rev. Thomas Doolittle,                                69

        Wesley writes Lampoons,                               70

        John Biddle,                                          71

        Charges against Dissenting Ministers,                 73

        Wesley’s School-fellows,                              74

        Daniel De Foe,                                        75

                              CHAPTER IV.

                       UNIVERSITY DAYS—1683–1688.

        Why S. Wesley left the Dissenters,                    77

        Wesley goes to Oxford,                                79

        Exeter College,                                       80

        Wesley a “Servitor,”                                  81

        Wesley publishes his “Maggots,”                       82

        Pope’s “Dunciad,”                                     84

        John Dunton,                                          84

        Wesley’s Life at the University,                      86

        King James’s Visit to Oxford,                         89

        Birth of Prince of Wales,                             91

        “Strenæ Natalitiæ,”                                   91

        Wesley’s Poem,                                        92

        His Feelings towards King James,                      92

        His Defence of the Revolution of 1688,                93

                               CHAPTER V.

                      NATIONAL AFFAIRS—1685–1688.

        Charles II.,                                          94

        Argyle and Monmouth’s Invasion,                       95

        Judge Jeffreys,                                       96

        King James’s pro-Papistical Acts,                     98

        King James’s Declaration of Indulgence,               98

        National Patience Exhausted,                          99

        Deplorable Treatment of Dissenters,                  100

        Disobedient Clergy,                                  101

        Story respecting S. Wesley Refuted,                  102

        S. Wesley’s Opinion of King James’s Indulgence,      103

        Trial of Seven Bishops,                              105

        Flight of the King and Queen,                        106

        Accession of William and Mary,                       107

        Description of London,                               107

        State of the Country,                                108

        Religion and Morals,                                 111

                              CHAPTER VI.

                  ORDINATION AND MARRIAGE—1688, 1689.

        Hardships at College,                                113

        Ordained a Deacon at Bromley,                        113

        Bishop Sprat,                                        114

        Ordained a Priest in Holborn,                        114

        Bishop Compton,                                      114

        Distinguished Clergymen,                             115

        Distinguished Dissenters,                            117

        Other Distinguished Men,                             117

        Wesley’s First Curacy,                               118

        Dr Annesley,                                         119

        Samuel Annesley, jun.,                               121

        The Father of Mrs Annesley,                          122

        Susannah Wesley,                                     125

                              CHAPTER VII.

                   THE “ATHENIAN GAZETTE”—1690–1695.

        South Ormsby,                                        128

        The Rural Clergyman,                                 129

        Dunton projects the _Athenian Gazette_,              131

        _Lacedemonian Mercury_,                              133

        Elkanah Settle,                                      133

        Wesley and the Swearer,                              134

        Richard Sault and the Second Spira,                  135

        John Norris,                                         136

        Nahum Tate,                                          137

        Jonathan Swift,                                      137

        Sir William Temple,                                  138

        Mrs Rowe,                                            138

        Charles Gildon,                                      138

        History of Athenian Society,                         138

        Gildon’s Character of Wesley,                        139

        Questions Answered in _Athenian Gazette_,            141

        Wesley’s Opinions of Quakers,                        143

        Wesley’s Theological Opinions,                       143

        Wesley’s Opinion of Churchmen and Dissenters,        148

                             CHAPTER VIII.

                     MORE LITERARY WORK—1692, 1693.

        “The Young Student’s Library,”                       150

        Its fantastic Frontispiece,                          150

        Contents of Young Student’s Library,                 151

        Wesley’s Article on Hebrew Points,                   152

        Wesley’s Essay on all sorts of Learning,             155

        Wesley’s “Complete Library,”                         158

        Wesley’s “Life of Christ,”                           160

        Opinions for and against it,                         160

        The Engravings in it,                                163

        William Fairthorn,                                   163

        Extracts from the “Life of Christ,”                  164

                              CHAPTER IX.

                  WILLIAM AND MARY’S REIGN—1689–1702.

        Touching to Cure the King’s Evil,                    167

        Non-jurors,                                          169

        William Sherlock,                                    169

        George Hickes,                                       170

        Jeremy Collier,                                      170

        Henry Dodwell,                                       170

        John Kettlewell,                                     171

        Charles Leslie,                                      171

        The Seven Non-juring Bishops,                        171

        The Act of Toleration,                               172

        The Comprehension Bill,                              173

        Commission to Revise the Liturgy, &c.,               173

        Convocation in 1689,                                 175

        High Church and Low Church,                          177

        Samuel Wesley not a High Churchman,                  177

        His Opinion on the Union of Churchmen and            178
        Dissenters,

        King William the Head of the Low-Church Party,       180

        Episcopacy Abolished in Scotland,                    180

        Position occupied by Socinians and Papists,          181

        Character and Death of George Fox,                   182

        Wesley’s Comparison of Quakers with Papists,         183

        Archbishop Tillotson,                                184

        Death and Character of Queen Mary,                   185

        Great Men flourishing in the Reign of William,       187

        Character and Death of William,                      188

                               CHAPTER X.

                  LAST DAYS AT SOUTH-ORMSBY—1694–1696.

        Wesley’s Elegies on the Queen and Archbishop,        191

        Epworth Living obtained through the Queen,           193

        Tillotson refuses to Recommend Wesley to an Irish    194
        Bishopric,

        Marquis of Normanby,                                 195

        Wesley, his Chaplain, in doubt how to Act,           197

        Wesley’s Fidelity obliges him to leave Ormsby,       198

        Children born at Ormsby,                             199

        Emilia Wesley,                                       199

        Susannah Wesley,                                     200

        Mary Wesley,                                         200

                              CHAPTER XI.

               EPWORTH AND CHRISTIAN SOCIETIES—1696–1699.

        Isle of Axholme,                                     203

        Epworth Parsonage,                                   203

        Mehetabel Wesley,                                    204

        Character and Death of Mrs Dunton,                   207

        Timothy Rogers,                                      208

        Wesley writes Mrs Dunton’s Epitaph,                  209

        Dunton quarrels with Wesley,                         210

        Wesley’s Sermon on Reformation of Manners,           213

        Society for the Reformation of Manners,              213

        Dr Anthony Horneck and Mr Smithies,                  213

        William Beveridge,                                   214

        Young Men Converted,                                 214

        Form Themselves into Societies,                      215

        Religious Societies give birth to Reformation        218
        Societies,

        Daniel Defoe on the Wickedness of the Age,           219

        Wesley on       do.,                                 220

        History of Society for Reformation of Manners,       221

        History of Religious and of Methodist Societies,     224

        Samuel Wesley’s hearty Approval of Religious         227
        Societies,

                              CHAPTER XII.

                     DEBT AND DILIGENCE—1700–1704.

        Wesley unfortunately turns Farmer,                   229

        Letter to Archbishop Sharpe,                         229

        Explanations,                                        231

        Archbishop Sharpe’s Application for a “Brief,”       234

        Wesley declines it,                                  235

        Wesley helps his Mother,                             235

        A _few_ Children born,                               236

        Archbishop Sharpe,                                   236

        “The Pious Communicant,”                             237

        Wesley’s Opinions on Transubstantiation and          237
        Baptism,

        John Wesley’s Re-publication of his Father’s         239
        Discourse,

        Wesley’s Epistle on Poetry,                          239

        Its Preface,                                         239

        Impurity of the Press,                               241

        Macaulay on     do.,                                 242

        Account of Epistle on Poetry,                        243

        Wesley’s History of Old and New Testament,           244

        John Sturt,                                          245

        Quotations from History of Old and New Testament,    246

                             CHAPTER XIII.

                         CONVOCATION—1701, ETC.

        Description of Convocation,                          249

        Wesley elected a Member of Convocation,              250

        Exaggerated Anecdote,                                251

        Convocation of 1701,                                 253

        Convocation of 1702,                                 258

        Queen Anne,                                          258

        Duke of Marlborough,                                 258

        Queen Anne a Bigot,                                  259

        Occasional Conformity Bill,                          260

        Queen Anne’s Bounty,                                 260

        Lord Halifax’s Motion in Parliament,                 261

        The Act to prevent the Growth of Schism,             261

        John Wesley’s Character of Queen Anne,               262

        Increase of Club-houses, &c.,                        262

        The Fashionable Classes,                             263

        Bully-beaus, &c.,                                    263

        National Superstition and Ignorance,                 265

                              CHAPTER XIV.

                  DISASTERS AND DISSENTERS—1702–1705.

        Wesley in Debt,                                      267

        His House on Fire,                                   267

        His Friends help Him,                                268

        His Letter on Dissenting Academies,                  270

        Secret History of the Calves-head Club,              271

        Clarendon’s History of the Rebellion,                274

        Samuel Palmer,                                       277

        Robert Clavel,                                       278

        Palmer’s Defence,                                    279

        Wesley’s Defence,                                    280

        Sacheverell’s Sermon on Political Union,             282

        Dissenter’s Demands as expounded by Defoe,           284

        Defoe’s Shortest Way with Dissenters,                286

        Defoe’s Arrest and Punishment,                       288

        Defoe attacks Wesley,                                289

        Other attacks on Wesley,                             290

                              CHAPTER XV.

                    THE IMPRISONED FATHER—1705–1709.

        Wesley’s Missionary Scheme,                          295

        Parliamentary Election in 1705,                      297

        The Mob at Epworth,                                  297

        Wesley deprived of his Military Chaplainship,        299

        Duke of Marlborough,                                 299

        Wesley’s Poem on Marlborough,                        299

        Wesley in Lincoln Castle,                            300

        Letters to Archbishop Sharpe,                        300

        Wesley’s Release,                                    304

        Archbishop Sharpe’s Kindness,                        304

        Horrible Death of one of Wesley’s Enemies,           304

        A Prayer,                                            305

        Letters to S. Wesley, jun.,                          307

        Wesley’s Passion for Music and Poetry,               311

        More Letters to S. Wesley, jun.,                     312

        Wesley’s Reply to Palmer’s Vindication,              316

        More Letters to S. Wesley, jun.,                     319

        Wesley the Teacher of his Children,                  322

        Anne Wesley,                                         322

        Martha Wesley,                                       322

        Kezziah Wesley,                                      325

        Wesley’s Confidence that all his Children would be   325
        Saved,

                              CHAPTER XVI.

                        FIRE AND FURY—1709–1712.

        The Burning of Epworth Parsonage,                    326

        A Rescued Hymn,                                      327

        Wesley’s Account of the Fire,                        328

        Unjust Accusation,                                   329

        Outrages in the Isle of Axholme,                     331

        Family Destitution,                                  333

        The New Parsonage,                                   333

        Dr Adam Clarke at Epworth,                           333

        Henry Sacheverell,                                   334

        Sacheverell’s Sermons at Derby and at St Paul’s,     334

        Sacheverell’s Trial,                                 338

        Sacheverell’s Defence written by Wesley,             339

        Great National Excitement,                           342

        The New Parliament and Convocation in 1710,          343

        Wesley at Convocation, and Events at Epworth,        345

                             CHAPTER XVII.

                    PRETERNATURAL NOISES—1716, 1717.

        Belief in Ghosts,                                    348

        Witchcraft,                                          349

        Wesley’s Remarks on Apparitions,                     349

        Samuel Badcock,                                      350

        Wesley Papers and Dr Priestley,                      350

        Account of Noises at Epworth Parsonage,              350

        Divers Opinions respecting them,                     357

        The Noises really Preternatural,                     359

        Why Permitted,                                       360

        Effect produced on Emilia Wesley,                    361

        John Wesley’s firm Belief in Witchcraft, &c.,        362

                             CHAPTER XVIII.

                    THE LAST TWENTY YEARS—1714–1735.

        The Pretender,                                       365

        The South Sea Bubble,                                366

        Bishop Atterbury,                                    367

        Social, Moral, and Religious Condition of the        368
        Country,

        Eminent Divines in the Church of England,            369

        Eminent Dissenting Ministers,                        370

        Other Eminent Men,                                   370

        Wesley’s Dissertations on the Book of Job,           371

        His elaborate Preparations,                          371

        His Helpers,                                         372

        Maurice Johnson,                                     372

        Roger Gale,                                          372

        John Romley,                                         373

        John Whitelamb,                                      373

        The Titles of Wesley’s Dissertations,                377

        Wesley’s Portrait,                                   378

        Lord Oxford,                                         379

        Subscribers to Wesley’s Dissertations,               379

        Dedication to Queen Caroline,                        380

        Opinions respecting the Dissertations,               380

        Samuel Badcock,                                      380

        Bishop Warburton,                                    380

        Alexander Pope, &c.,                                 381

        Wesley’s Letter to a Curate,                         381

        Wesley on Christian Ministers,                       382

        Wesley on Reading Prayers,                           383

        Wesley on Books to be Studied,                       384

        Wesley on Sermons,                                   386

        Wesley on Catechising,                               387

        Wesley on the Administration of Sacraments,          387

        Wesley on Church Discipline,                         387

        Wesley obtains the Rectory of Wroot,                 388

                              CHAPTER XIX.

                           LETTERS—1725–1735.

        Advices to his son John about Entering Orders,       391

        Wesley and his Wife differ in Opinion,               392

        Wesley on Thomas à Kempis,                           393

        Wesley’s son John Ordained a Deacon,                 396

        Wesley’s Designs to Publish a Polyglot Bible,        397

        Wesley Pinched for Want of Money,                    399

        John Wesley at Epworth and Wroot,                    399

        Wesley’s Love for his Children,                      399

        Wesley’s Journey from Wroot to Epworth, &c.,         402

        Mrs Wesley thought to be Dangerously Ill,            403

        Wesley on Oriental Languages,                        404

        Two fair Escapes from Death,                         405

        Wesley’s Advices to his son Charles,                 406

        Wesley’s Letters on the First Methodist Meetings     407
        at Oxford,

        Wesley’s Dedication of his Dissertations to the      409
        Queen,

        Wesley’s Dissertations nearly Completed,             410

        Wesley a strict Disciplinarian,                      411

        Letters on Doing Penance,                            412

        A Difficulty about his Churchwardens,                414

                     Wesley nearly Killed by being
        thrown out of his Waggon,                            416

        Wesley writes to his son Samuel on Family Affairs,   417

        S. Wesley, jun., declines Epworth Living,            419

        Wesley learns to Write with his Left Hand,           419

        Wesley’s Benevolence,                                420

        Letter to the Lord Chancellor respecting J.          420
        Whitelamb,

        Wesley Visits his Sons at Oxford,                    422

        John Wesley Refuses to be his Father’s Successor,    422

        His Father’s Reply to his Objections,                422

        Two Papists at Epworth,                              424

        Wesley’s Kindness to a Fatherless Boy,               424

        General Oglethorpe,                                  425

        Wesley’s Letter to Oglethorpe on his Return from     425
        Georgia,

        Proposed Special Sacraments for his Friends,         427

        Would have gone to Georgia if ten years younger,     428

        Inquiries respecting Georgia,                        429

        John Whitelamb’s wish to go to Georgia,              430

        The Missionary Spirit a Trait of the Wesley          431
        Family,

        A Family Letter written by Proxy,                    432

        Matthew Wesley and his Visit to Epworth,             435

        He unjustly Accuses his Brother,                     436

        S. Wesley’ s Reply to his Brother’s Accusation,      437

                              CHAPTER XX.

                       DEATH AND CHARACTER—1735.

        Declining Health,                                    443

        Last two Sermons,                                    443

        John Wesley’s Account of his Father’s Death,         444

        Charles Wesley’s ditto,                              444

        Notice of Death in _Gentleman’s Magazine_,           447

        His Tomb,                                            447

        His Elegy, by his son Samuel,                        448

        His Poetry,                                          448

        Eupolis’s Hymn,                                      449

        Wesley’s Wit and Pleasantry,                         451

        The Miser’s Feast,                                   451

        The Epworth Parish Clerk,                            452

        Two Letters written by Wesley’s Granddaughter,       453

        Snuff and Tobacco,                                   455

        Dr Whitehead’s Critique on Wesley,                   456

        J. Hampson’s ditto,                                  457

        Adam Clarke’s ditto,                                 457

        Success of Wesley’s Labours,                         458




                              APPENDICES.

       Titles of Poems in Wesley’s “Maggots,”                461

       List of Pamphlets published at the Revolution of      462
       1688,

       List of Books Condensed in “The Young Student’s       464
       Library,”

------------------------------------------------------------------------




                           THE LIFE AND TIMES

                                   OF

                             SAMUEL WESLEY.


                             --------------


                               CHAPTER I.
                    TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO—1640–1665.


Samuel Wesley was born a little more than two hundred years ago; and a
brief review of the state of the nation and of the Church at that period
will be useful in illustrating some parts of his history.

From March 1629 to April 1640, the houses of legislature had not
assembled; never in English history had there been an interval of eleven
years between one parliament and another. Charles I. had systematically
attempted to make himself a despot, and to reduce the parliament to a
nullity.

To make bad things worse, Archbishop Laud, in the year 1640, convened
Convocation, which ordered that every clergyman should instruct his
parishioners once a quarter, in the divine right of kings, and the
damnable sin of resistance to authority. By the divine right of kings
was meant, that the Supreme Being regarded hereditary monarchy, as
opposed to other forms of government, with peculiar favour; that the
rule of succession, in order of primogeniture, was a divine institution
anterior to the Christian, and even to the Mosaic dispensation; that no
human power, not even that of the whole legislature, could deprive the
legitimate prince of his rights; and that the laws by which, in England
and in other countries, the prerogative was limited, were to be regarded
merely as concessions, which the sovereign had freely made, and which he
might at his pleasure resume.

By the same ecclesiastical parliament, all clergymen and all graduates
in the universities were required to take an oath, that everything
necessary for salvation was contained in the doctrine and discipline of
the Church of England, as distinguished from Presbyterianism and
Papistry; and they were also required to swear that they would not
consent to any alteration of the government of the Church, by
archbishops, bishops, priests, and deacons. Those refusing to take such
oaths were threatened with heavy penalties.

This assumption of ecclesiastical power, on the part of Convocation, was
most offensively absurd. The nation for years had been divided both in
politics and religion; and it was not to be expected that such decrees
could be issued without provoking resistance and creating trouble.
Hence, in the same year, and in the year following, we find a crowd of
events which exerted a most powerful influence on the subsequent history
of the nation. The House of Commons, which, after an interval of eleven
years, was again brought together, appointed a grand committee of the
whole house to inquire into the scandalous immoralities of the clergy.
Above two thousand cases were presented, and the work of cleansing the
Augean stable became so heavy, that the grand committee had to divide
itself into four or five sub-committees, called White’s, Corbett’s,
Harlow’s, and Dearing’s committees, after the chairman of each. An act
also was passed by the House of Commons, that the clergy should not be
magistrates, neither should officiate as judges in civil courts. Lord
Strafford—eloquent and bold, but imperious and cruel, Charles’s most
trusted counsellor, and one whose object it had been to make his royal
master as absolute a monarch as any in Europe—was arrested, tried, and
beheaded. The Star Chamber and the High Commission courts, the former a
political, the latter a religious inquisition, were abolished. Thirteen
bishops were impeached by the Lower House of Parliament, Archbishop Laud
being one of them. The London apprentices began their riots. Two hundred
thousand Protestant men, women, and children, were massacred in Ireland,
and thousands more had to flee to England, naked and famished, to obtain
subsistence. The papistical butchers, not satisfied with this, proceeded
to threaten that, when they had wreaked their vengeance on the handful
left in Ireland, they would come to England, and inflict upon the
Protestants there the same barbarities.

It was impossible for such events to happen without public feeling being
excited to the highest pitch. The parliament was aroused; the country
rose to arms; and the civil wars commenced. The Commons passed a
resolution that they would never consent to any toleration of the popish
religion, either in Ireland or any other part of his majesty’s
dominions; and another bill was passed excluding bishops from the House
of Lords. From this date, the Church of England, if not entirely
demolished, may be regarded as a ruin.

In 1642, a committee was appointed by the House of Commons to inquire
“what malignant clergymen had benefices in and about London, which
benefices, being sequestered, might be supplied by others, who should
receive their profits;” and in the year following, the “Scandalous
Committee” of 1640, and the “Plundering Committee” of 1642, (as the
royalists called them,) were empowered to act in concert; and, by their
united efforts, the Church was well-nigh cleared both of the clergymen
who were immoral, and of those whose opinions did not harmonise with the
opinions generally entertained by parliament. Many left their cures, and
took sanctuary in the king’s armies; others were put under confinement
in Lambeth, Winchester, and Ely; and about twenty were imprisoned
beneath deck in ships on the river Thames, no friend being allowed to
come near them. Several pious and worthy bishops and other clergymen,
who desired to live peaceably without joining either side, had their
estates and livings sequestered, and their houses and goods plundered,
and were themselves reduced to live upon the fifths, a small pension
from parliament. Among these may be mentioned, Archbishop Usher, Bishops
Morton and Hall, and the no less renowned Jeremy Taylor, who, driven
from his living at Uppingham, retired into Wales, and, while supporting
himself and his family by teaching a school, there composed some of the
greatest of his immortal works.

For the space of about two years, the country might be said to be
without any established form of worship. The clergy were left to read
the liturgy, or not to read it, as they pleased, and to use equal
discretion as to wearing the canonical habits, or the Geneva cloak. The
ecclesiastical polity of the realm was in total confusion. Episcopacy
was the form of government prescribed by the old law of the land, which
was not repealed; but the form of government prescribed by parliamentary
ordinance was presbyterian; and yet, neither the old law, nor the
parliamentary ordinance, was practically in force. The Church actually
established may be described as an irregular body, made up of a few
presbyteries, and of many independent congregations, all held down and
held together by the authority of government. Cathedral worship was
almost everywhere abolished, and many of the sacred edifices themselves
defaced and injured. By the parliamentary ordinance of 1643, clergymen,
both bad and good, were ejected from their benefices by thousands;
altars and stone tables in churches were destroyed; candlesticks,
tapers, and basins standing upon communion tables were unsparingly
removed; and all crosses, crucifixes, images, and superstitious pictures
and paintings demolished. Churches and sepulchres, fine works of art and
curious remains of antiquity, met with the same ruthless treatment. In
Chichester Cathedral, the rabble, meeting with the portrait of King
Edward VI., picked out its eyes, because Edward had established the Book
of Common Prayer. In Canterbury Cathedral, where they found the
arras-hangings, representing the history of Christ, they swore they
would stab the picture of our Saviour, and rip up its bowels, which they
did accordingly; while at the south gate, they discharged forty muskets
at a carved figure of Christ, and rejoiced exceedingly when they hit it
on the head or face. At Lichfield, they stabled their horses in the body
of the church, polluted the orchestra, baptized a calf at the baptismal
font, and hunted a cat with hounds every day throughout the windings of
the sacred edifice.

While such proceedings were taking place in cathedrals and churches,
parliament was passing sharp laws against betting, and enacting that
adultery should be punished with death. Public amusements, from masques
in the mansions of the great, down to wrestling and grinning matches on
village greens, were vigorously attacked. All the May-poles in England
were ordered to be hewn down. Play-houses were to be dismantled, the
spectators fined, and the actors whipped at the cart’s tail. Magistrates
dispersed festive meetings, and put fiddlers in the stocks. The zeal of
the soldiers was still more formidable, for in every village where they
happened to appear, there was an end of dancing, bell-ringing, and
hockey.

Meanwhile several sects sprung into existence, whose eccentricities
surpassed anything that had ever been seen in England. A mad tailor,
named Ludowick Muggleton, wandered from pothouse to pothouse, tippling
ale, and denouncing eternal torments against those who refused to
believe, on his testimony, that the Supreme Being was only six feet
high, and that the sun was just four miles from the earth. Another sect
of fanatics, which now sprung up, were the Fifth Monarchy Men, so called
because they taught that the four great monarchies of the world were
about to be succeeded by the monarchy of Christ, who would reign among
mankind for a thousand years. The powers of earth were to be utterly
destroyed, and Christ to be king alone. Acting upon their fanatical
principles, in 1660 they scoured the streets of London, committing
murder, without distinction of age or sex, till they came to Aldersgate
Street, where they halted, and proclaimed king Jesus, crying out, “No
king but Christ.” These enthusiasts fought like lions; but, of course,
were overpowered. A number of them were killed in the skirmish that took
place in scattering them; and sixteen, who were taken prisoners, were
drawn on sledges from Newgate through Cheapside to a place opposite
their meeting-house in Swan Ally, Coleman Street, where they were hanged
and quartered, their quarters being afterwards set upon the four gates
of the city. George Fox, also, raised a tempest of derision by
proclaiming that it was a violation of Christian sincerity to designate
a single person by a plural pronoun; and that it was an idolatrous
homage to Janus and Woden to talk about January and Wednesday. He hated
Episcopacy, steeple houses, and the liturgy; and propounded the most
extravagant whimsies concerning postures, dress, and diversions. One of
his coadjutors was John Hinks, first a shepherd’s boy, and then a
shoemaker, prodigiously ignorant, and yet an enthusiast, who pretended
to be inspired. James Naylor was another of Fox’s mad associates, a man
who, when he entered Bristol, stripped himself stark naked, had his
horse led in triumph by two women, while his nasal-twanged followers
strewed branches in his way, and shouted “Hosannah.” Solomon Eccles, one
of the Quakers’ chief teachers, went naked into the church at
Aldermanbury, in the time of divine service, bedaubed all over with
filth, as an emblem of the nakedness and filth of the minister who was
preaching. And two women, at Kendal, of the names of Adlington and
Collinson, are said to have walked through the streets of that town in
the same state of nudity, and who, when friendly hands tried to cover
them, rebuked such kindness, by declaring that “it hindered the work of
the Lord.”

Such, substantially, was the state of affairs, when, in 1643, the
Assembly of Divines met, by an ordinance of parliament, in the city of
Westminster, for “settling the government and liturgy of the Church of
England, and for vindicating and clearing the said Church from false
aspersions and interpretations.” The Assembly consisted of thirty
members of parliament, including six noblemen; and of one hundred and
twenty-one ministers, including Dr Lightfoot, Edmund Calamy, and Joseph
Caryl. Baxter says, the divines were men of eminent learning and
godliness, ministerial abilities and fidelity. Each member of the
Assembly had four shillings a—day allowed by parliament towards his
expenses. They sat five years, six months, and twenty-two days, during
which time they had 1163 sessions. A few of the members were attached to
Episcopacy; but, finding themselves in a hopeless minority, they soon
retired. The great majority were in favour of Presbyterianism; but
these, to the last, were vigorously opposed by a minority, consisting of
two sections, who, although they generally acted in concert against the
common enemy, were also distinguishable from each other. These were,
first, the Independents; and, secondly, the Erastians, so called because
of their adoption of the principles of Erastus, a German divine of the
preceding century, who maintained that the Church, or the clergy, as
such, possessed no inherent legislative power of any kind, and that the
National Church was, in all respects, the mere subject and creature of
the civil magistrate.

Such were the men to whom was committed the work of building up a new
ecclesiastical polity. By their advice alterations were made in the
Thirty-nine Articles, the intention being to render their sense more
express and determinate in favour of Calvinism. In 1645, their
“Directory of Public Worship” supplanted the liturgy, and was
established by an ordinance of parliament. They also agreed in
introducing and enforcing the Solemn League and Covenant, by which
Episcopacy was abjured. In 1646, the name, style, and dignity of
archbishops and bishops were formally abolished; and, in 1649, the
“Confession of Faith,” which laid down a Presbyterian system of
ecclesiastical polity, received the sanction of an Act of Parliament.

Many difficulties, however, stood in the way of the actual extension of
this new system over the whole kingdom; and, in fact, it never obtained
more than a very limited and imperfect establishment. Accordingly, the
National Church of England, during the Commonwealth, was by no means
exclusively composed of Presbyterians, (though they were the most
numerous,) for some of the benefices were still retained by their old
Episcopal incumbents; a considerable number were held by Independents,
and a few were filled even by the minor sects, that now swarmed in the
sunshine of the Protector’s all but universal toleration.

King Charles was beheaded in 1649, and Oliver Cromwell was appointed
Lord Protector in 1653. A quarter of a century before he was raised to
this high position, Cromwell had openly deserted the Church of England,
and attached himself to the Puritans, who were just then rising into
wealth and power. Under the Commonwealth, the Dissenters increased in
numbers, and exercised a predominating influence in national affairs.
Besides being incumbents of parish churches, their ministers officiated
as chaplains of political bodies; and preached to mayors and aldermen,
as they sat arrayed in golden chains and scarlet robes at Guildhall
festivals. The rights of presentation to church livings were still
retained to patrons; but, to prevent abuses, Cromwell, in 1653,
appointed a Board of Commissioners to examine all candidates for holy
orders, and without whose sanction none could be admitted to a church
benefice. These “Triers,” as they were called, were thirty-eight in
number. Part of them were Presbyterians, part were Independents, and a
few were Baptists. Among them were Dr Thomas Goodwin, Dr John Owen,
Joseph Caryl, the author of the gigantic Commentary on the Book of Job,
and Thomas Manton, whose writings, so full of sanctified genius, will be
prized by the Church of Christ to the end of time. Baxter tells us that
the Triers, with all their faults, did a great amount of good. They
saved many a congregation from ignorant, ungodly, drunken teachers. All
that either preached against a godly life, or preached as though they
knew not what it was; and all those that used the ministry as a common
trade, and merely as a means of getting bread, were usually rejected;
while all who were able, serious preachers, and whose lives were holy,
were admitted, of whatsoever opinions they were, so long as their
opinions were “tolerable.” The authority of Cromwell’s Triers was almost
unlimited, and, certainly, was not unneeded. Previous to their
appointment, any one who wished might set up to be a preacher, and so
give himself a chance of obtaining a living in the Church. Now, every
candidate for the pulpit and emoluments of a parish church had to bring
to the Board of Triers, sitting at Whitehall, a testimonial, subscribed
by the hands of three persons of known goodness and integrity, one of
whom, at least, had to be a preacher of the gospel in some constant
settled place. On the candidate passing his examination, he was inducted
to the church living, to which he had been presented, by a document,
given in the name of the Triers, signed by the State Registrar, and
sealed with the seal of the Commonwealth. He then took possession,
cultivated the glebe lands, prayed, if he choose, without book or
surplice, and administered the eucharist to communicants seated at long
tables. In some instances there was also formed a sort of independent
church outside the parish church, to whom the preacher administered the
sacraments, not in the parochial edifice, but in private houses. It is
impossible to ascertain the exact number of these beneficed Dissenters,
under the Commonwealth, but it may be safely inferred, that they were
numerous, when it is borne in mind that, after the elevation of Cromwell
to the Protectorate, they were favoured by the ruling powers; and, after
the Restoration, were regarded by their opponents with great anxiety.

Of the two, the Presbyterians were more numerous than the Independents,
and, in many instances, the feeling between the parties was anything but
brotherly. Cromwell had tried to be impartial, and to allow all classes,
Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists, to have a fair
share of church emoluments, and thereby he hoped to secure something
like church amity, but the effort was futile and the hope not realised.

Among the ministers who, during the Commonwealth, occupied the pulpits
of England, there were not a few who will always rank among England’s
most powerful preachers, and most profound divines. Besides these there
were likewise men in the country belonging to other classes, whose names
will ever be invested with a halo of honour. Dr Busby was master of
Westminster School, and celebrated alike for his classical abilities and
unflinching discipline. Vandyke was putting on canvas his unequalled
portraits; and Inigo Jones reviving classical architecture. There were
also Andrew Marvell, renowned as the first of patriots and of wits;
George Withers, some of whose earlier poetry, especially, abounds in the
finest bursts of sunshine; John Milton, Cudworth, Sir Thomas Browne, and
others of a like character.

The morals of the nation, up to the time of Charles’s execution, were
about as bad as badness could make them. The chief amusements of the
court were masques, and emblematic pageants, some of which cost more
than £20,000 each. Extravagance in dress and personal adornment had
become an absolute phrenzy. James I., when transported from the
scantily-furnished halls of Holyrood to the plentiful palaces of the
south, burst from a clumsy, ungainly figure into a gilded coxcomb,
almost daily figuring in a new suit, and his courtiers copying his
example. When Buckingham was sent ambassador to the court of France, his
suit of white velvet was set all over with diamonds, valued at £80,000;
and, besides this, he had another suit of purple satin, embroidered with
pearls worth £20,000. In fact, the beaux of this period were animated
trinkets. Prodigality in feasting soon became as conspicuous as
extravagance in dress; and gambling kept pace with both. The manners of
the court, and of both sexes in the higher classes, were gross in the
extreme. English taverns were dens of filth, tobacco smoke, roaring
songs, and roysterers; and yet, even in such places, women of rank
allowed themselves to be entertained, and tolerated those freedoms from
their admirers which are described with such startling plainness in our
old plays and poems. The streets of London, and even of the inferior
towns, were filled with prowling sharpers; and the highways of England
were equally infested with robbers, concealing their faces with visors,
and carrying in their pockets false tails for their otherwise well-known
horses. Divination was a thriving business; and fortune-telling was
frequently a cover to the worse trades of pandering and poisoning. The
stars were more eagerly studied than the diurnals; and both cavaliers
and roundheads thronged to astrologers to learn the events of the
succeeding week. Exorcising devils was common, and the belief in witches
became the master superstition of the age; so that between three and
four thousand persons are said to have been executed for witchcraft
between the year 1640 and the Restoration.

Of course, during the Commonwealth, when Puritan principles were in the
ascendancy, a great change came over the general manners and morals of
the land. Republican simplicity prevailed in the banquets at Whitehall;
Scotch collops, marrow puddings, and hog’s-liver sausages forming
standing dishes of Lady Cromwell’s cookery. Religion was the language of
the court, and also its garb; prayer and fasting were fashionable
exercises; and a godly profession was the road to preferment. Not a play
was acted in all England for many years, and from the prince to the
peasant and common soldier, the features of Puritanism were almost
universally exhibited. Many doubtless were fanatics and others designing
knaves, whose whole religion consisted in the use of a religious
vocabulary and hypocritical grimace; but making all due allowance for a
large amount of unscriptural enthusiasm and pious fraud, there were
unquestionably among those sickly dreamers and canting fanatics,
thousands and tens of thousands of enlightened, sincere, and earnest
Christians.

Cromwell died in 1658. Immediately after his death, the Protectorate
broke down under his son Richard, and confusion became worse confounded.
The army was unsettled, the parliament divided, the republic was
discouraged, trade decayed, and the exchequer empty. The majority of the
nation were weary of change, and had no faith in ideal republics; and,
by the spring of 1660, public feeling was strongly in favour of the
restoration of Charles II. In the month of March, the Rump Parliament
was finally dissolved. All the bells in London were set a ringing; and,
as Pepys tells us, bonfires blazed on every side, there being not fewer
than fourteen burning, at the same time, between St Dunstan’s and Temple
Bar.

The Presbyterians now stood foremost, and, in Parliament, were the
leaders. The League and Covenant was hung on the walls of the House of
Commons, and was ordered to be read in every church once a year; but in
March 1660, as an indication of other changes coming, Dr John Owen,
Cromwell’s chaplain, was removed from the deanery of Christ’s Church,
Oxford, and Dr, afterwards Bishop, Reynolds was appointed in his place.
On the 30th of April, a public fast was held, Reynolds and Hardy
preaching before the House of Lords; and Gauden, Calamy, and Baxter
before the House of Commons. On the 1st of May, Sir John Granville
arrived from Breda with despatches from Charles II.; one being addressed
to the House of Lords, and another to the House of Commons. The latter
contained the famous “Declaration of Breda,” offering indemnity for the
past, and liberty of conscience for the future. The declaration was, “We
do declare a liberty to tender consciences, and that no man shall be
disquieted, or called in question for difference of opinions, which do
not disturb the peace of the kingdom.” Within a fortnight after this,
Charles was proclaimed king, amid “festivals, bells, and bonfires,”
Richard Baxter preaching a sermon on the occasion, before the Lord Mayor
and Corporation of London.

The restoration of Charles being settled, several members of the Lords
and Commons, on the 11th of May, started off to Holland to meet him. The
city of London sent commissioners, and with them went certain
Presbyterian ministers, as Reynolds, Manton, and Calamy. These reverend
brethren told the king that they had urged the people to restore him to
the throne of his father, and declared themselves as no enemies to
moderate Episcopacy; but begged that his Majesty would dispense with the
surplice being worn, and that, instead of adopting the use of the Common
Prayer entirely and formally, he would direct that only some parts of it
should be read, with some superadded prayers by his chaplains. At the
end of the month Charles landed at Dover. The castle guns bid him
welcome. Thousands upon thousands, standing upon the beach and cliffs,
waved their hats, and gave right hearty cheers. When he arrived in
London, the corporation waited in a tent at St George’s-in-the-Fields to
receive him. All the houses in Southwark, Cheapside, Fleet Street, and
the Strand were hung with banners and adorned with tapestry. The Livery
companies turned out in their velvet coats, silver doublets, and rich
green scarfs; while kettle-drums and trumpets made all London ring
again. Addresses flowed in from all quarters welcoming the king back to
Old England, and, among others, one from the county of Devon, bearing
among others the signature of the celebrated Joseph Caryl.

All seemed to be unanimous and jubilant; and yet all this was but the
beginning of the tug of war. Charles was a constitutional king, and was
to rule through parliaments. The Presbyterians, who were still in power,
expected royal favour for recent services, and to be comprehended in
some wide church establishment. Independents, Baptists, and Quakers
asked for toleration. Roman Catholics, who had been friends to the
beheaded father and the exiled son, thought themselves entitled to
consideration. While the Episcopalians claimed the new monarch as their
own, sought exclusive re-establishment, wished to cast out all
Presbyterian intruders, and were inwardly resolved to tolerate no
sectaries whatever. Charles’s position was difficult and perplexing.

Alterations were soon made. The dioceses in England had bishops
appointed to them, though it was not until the next parliament, in 1661,
that the bishops took their places among the peers. The Liturgy was
immediately introduced into those parish churches, where the ministers
avowed themselves Episcopalians; and, already, the reign of persecution
had commenced. Even before the king had landed at Dover, the Episcopal
party in Wales were busy sending sixty-eight Quakers to gaol; while the
prison at Montgomery was so full of Independents and Baptists that the
governor had to pack them into garrets. John Milton was committed to the
custody of the sergeant-at-arms, and was declared to be disqualified for
the public service; while his “Defence of the English People” and his
“Eikonoclastes” were ordered to be publicly burned. Oliver Heywood was
insolently harassed for a twelvemonth with citations to appear before
the Consistory Court at York. Philip Henry was prosecuted for not
reading the Common Prayer, and John Howe was accused of treason for some
utterance in the pulpit. During the summer of 1660, a bill was passed by
parliament, which aimed at the expulsion of all who had been inducted
into church livings during the Commonwealth, and the immediate
restoration of all the clergy who had been expelled. This bill included
a proviso to the effect that the Presbyterian and Independent ministers
should not be bound to give back livings which were legally vacant when
they obtained them; but there was another that almost rendered null the
previous one, viz., that every incumbent should be excluded that had not
been ordained by an ecclesiastic, or had renounced his ordination, or
had petitioned for bringing the late king to trial, or had justified his
trial and execution, in preaching or in writing, or had committed
himself in the vexed question of infant baptism.

The bill failed to give satisfaction to any party. The Episcopalians
complained that it was a thing of mean subterfuges and compromises;
while the Dissenters alleged that the Episcopalians were monopolists of
honours and preferments, and were waiting to renew the persecutions of
Archbishop Laud.

Archbishop Usher, who died in 1656, had left behind him a scheme of
union, and a proposed plan of church government by suffragan bishops,
and synods, and presbyteries conjointly. By this plan he had fondly
hoped to reconcile the two great religious parties, the Episcopalians
and the Presbyterians; and the latter, being now hopeless of obtaining
an entire supremacy, professed their willingness to make Usher’s scheme
the basis of negotiation. The principal ministers, who were parties to
this proposal, were Dr Reynolds, Dr Manton, Dr Bates, Edward Calamy, and
Richard Baxter. They were promised a meeting with some Episcopal divines
in the presence of the king; but when the time appointed came, instead
of a meeting, the Presbyterians received a paper rejecting their
proposal, but telling them that they were all to meet the king on
October 22d, at the house of Lord Clarendon, in the Strand, and that his
Majesty would then adjust all their religious differences. At the
appointed meeting there were present, besides the king, the Dukes of
Albemarle and Ormond, the Earls of Manchester and Anglesea, the six
bishops of London, Worcester, Salisbury, Durham, Exeter, and Lichfield,
and six Presbyterian ministers, viz., Reynolds, Spurstow, Wallis,
Manton, Calamy, and Baxter. The Presbyterians entrusted their cause to
the eloquence and learning of Calamy and Baxter; while the chief
speakers on the Episcopalian side were Dr Gunning and Bishop Morley.

Three days after this important meeting, Charles published what is
commonly called “The Healing Declaration.” This royal manifesto, after
commending the Episcopalians, and acknowledging the moderation of the
Presbyterians, promised—1, To encourage religion; 2, To appoint
suffragan bishops where dioceses were thought to be too large; 3, Not to
allow church censures to be pronounced by bishops without the advice and
assistance of the presbyters; 4, To give deaneries to the most learned
and pious presbyters of the diocese; 5, Not to allow persons to come to
the Lord’s Supper without confirmation and a credible profession of
their faith; and 6, To appoint an equal number of learned divines
belonging to the Episcopalians and Presbyterians to revise the Liturgy.

As soon as this Declaration was made public, bishoprics were offered to
Reynolds, Baxter, and Calamy. Reynolds accepted the see of Norwich;
Baxter and Calamy declined. A fortnight after, royal letters were issued
commanding the University of Cambridge to confer the diploma of D.D. on
the three eminent Presbyterian ministers, William Bates, Thomas Jacombe,
and Robert Wilde, the king being fully satisfied “of their integrity and
loyalty;” and, at the same time, a bill was brought into the House of
Commons to make the king’s “Healing Declaration” law, but the bill was
lost.

As time advanced, the prospects of the Dissenters became more gloomy. On
January 2, 1661, an Order in Council was made against Baptists, Quakers,
and other sectaries meeting in large numbers and at unusual times. The
order also forbade any of their assemblies being held out of their own
parishes.

Shortly after this, at the request of Baxter, Lord Clarendon made an
arrangement for carrying into effect that part of the king’s “Healing
Declaration” which promised a revision of the Liturgy. Twelve bishops
and nine coadjutors were appointed to represent the Episcopal party, and
twelve leading divines and nine coadjutors to represent the Presbyterian
party. The twelve bishops belonged to the dioceses of York, London,
Durham, Rochester, Chichester, Sarum, Worcester, Lincoln, Peterborough,
Chester, Carlisle, and Exeter. Among their coadjutors were some of the
most eminent men of the day, as Dr Heylin, and Dr Pearson, immortalised
by his profoundly able work on the Apostles’ Creed. The twelve
Presbyterian divines included Reynolds, Manton, Calamy, and Baxter; and
their coadjutors included the “silver-tongued” William Bates and Dr
Lightfoot. The place of meeting was the old Savoy Palace, and the first
day of their coming together was April 15, 1661. Baxter proposed an
entirely new Liturgy; and, in the short space of a fortnight, prepared
one. His brethren meanwhile were employed in preparing exceptions to the
old one, which Baxter wished to set aside. Baxter seemed to be equal to
any amount of work assigned to him. When he brought his completed draft
of the new Liturgy to his co-commissioners, instead of finding their
exceptions to the old Liturgy finished, he found them only just begun;
and, as both the draft and the exceptions had to be submitted to the
Savoy Conference at the same time, there was no alternative but to wait
another fortnight; during which Baxter himself prepared as many
exceptions to the old prayer-book as filled eight closely-printed folio
pages.

On the Conference reassembling, the Presbyterians read their paper,
pleading that, as the first Reformers composed the Liturgy so as to draw
the Papists into their communion, the Liturgy ought now to be so revised
as to unite all substantial Protestants. Hence it was suggested that
certain repetitions should be omitted; that the Litany should be turned
into one continued prayer; that neither Lent nor Saints’ Days should
continue to be observed; that free prayer should be allowed; that the
Apocrypha should not be read in the daily lessons; that the word
“minister” should be used instead of the word “priest;” and “Lord’s-day”
instead of “Sunday;” that the Liturgy was defective in praise and
thanksgiving; that the Confession and Catechism were imperfect; and that
the surplice, the cross, and kneeling at the Lord’s Supper, were
unwarrantable. All these, however, were regarded as minor objections;
and the main ones that were raised were against the baptismal service,
the marriage service, the service for the visitation of the sick, and
the burial service.

When the objections had been submitted to the Conference, the bishops
and their coadjutors rejected them _in toto_. Baxter was appointed to
answer the reply of the bishops, and went out of town, to Dr Spurstow’s
house in Hackney, for that purpose. In eight days his rejoinder was
finished. Unprofitable disputes followed; the Conference broke up; and
nothing but vexation and sorrow came out of it.

The Presbyterians were now treated as the vanquished party; and Baxter
especially became the butt for malignant marksmen. Almost every time he
preached he was accused of treason; and even his prayers were listened
to with suspicion. Still, as the parliament now sitting had been elected
before the Restoration, the Presbyterians in that assembly were too
numerous and troublesome to permit of summary suppression. Hence, in
March 1661, a new election was ordered, and great excitement followed.
Alderman Thompson, “a godly man of good parts, and a congregationalist,”
was one of the candidates for London; but the Royalists objected to him,
because he was “so fond of smoking that his breath would poison a whole
committee.” Dr Caryl and other eminent ministers held a fast. Zachary
Crofton preached against bishops “every Sunday night, with an infinite
auditory, itching, and applause;” and Mr Graffen had a crowd of two
thousand in the streets, who could not get into his meeting-house to
hear him “bang the bishops.”

The new parliament met on the 8th of May 1661; and the change from
Presbyterian to Episcopalian predominancy was manifested in one of the
earliest orders,—viz., that the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, on the
Sunday seven night, should be administered, at St Margaret’s Church,
according to the form prescribed in the Liturgy of the Church of
England; and that no one should be admitted a member of that House who
neglected to partake of the Communion, either there publicly, or
afterwards in the presence of two or more witnesses. In addition to
this, it was resolved that “the Solemn League and Covenant,” the
well-known symbol of Presbyterian ascendancy—which, for a year past, had
been taken down from the walls of the House of Commons—should be burnt
by the common hangman; and this was done, the hangman first tearing the
document into pieces, and then burning the fragments in succession,—he
all the while lifting up his hands and eyes in pious indignation, until
not a shred was left.[1]

-----

Footnote 1:

  The Solemn League and Covenant was a contract agreed to by the Scots,
  in the year 1638, for maintaining their religion free from innovation.
  In 1643 it was brought into England; and on February 2, of that year,
  it was enacted, by a joint ordinance of both Houses of Parliament,
  “that the League and Covenant should be solemnly taken and subscribed,
  in all places throughout the kingdom of England and dominion of Wales,
  by all persons above the age of eighteen.” Accordingly, it was signed
  by most of the members of the two houses of legislature, by all the
  principal officers of the rebel army, by all the _Divines_ of the
  _Assembly_ then sitting at Westminster, and by a large number of the
  people in general. Two of the principal vows were—1. That the party
  taking and subscribing the Covenant would endeavour to “bring the
  Churches of God in all the three kingdoms to the nearest conjunction
  and uniformity in religion, confession of faith, and form of church
  government, as the _Directory_ prescribes for worship and
  catechising.” And, 2. That he would “endeavour, without respect of
  persons, to extirpate Popery and Prelacy—that is to say, church
  government by archbishops and bishops.”

-----

Before the year was ended, the bishops took their place in the House of
Lords; and a bill was passed requiring all members of corporations to
swear that the “Solemn League and Covenant was unlawful; and declaring
that no one was eligible for office who had not, within one year before,
taken the sacrament according to the rites of the Church of England.”

Added to this, another and a far more important bill was introduced:—“A
Bill for the Uniformity of Public Prayers and Administration of the
Sacraments.” The bill was first submitted to Parliament in December
1661, and became law on the 19th of May 1662. During this interval of
five months the greatest excitement prevailed throughout the nation.
Loud and fierce were the diatribes uttered from the Episcopal pulpit
against Roundheads, Anabaptists, and Quakers. Swarms of pamphlets and
broadsides were issued, to support Church and State by argument, but
more frequently by ridicule and satire. Many of these, as “Noctroft’s
Maid Whipt,” and the “Antidote of Melancholy made up in Pills,” were
coarse and filthy in a high degree. Of course, sharp and bitter things
were said and written on the Nonconformists’ side, but in none of their
publications is there anything like the abominable and indecent
scurrility which the royalist press published against them.

Before giving a synopsis of the Act of Uniformity, it may be well to
say, that the Book of Common Prayer, which it mentions, was the book as
revised by Convocation in November 1661. About six hundred alterations
had been made in the body of the volume. Forms respecting the weather,
prayers to be used at sea, and emendations in the commination, and in
the churching of women services were introduced. The calendar was
revised, and the Apocrypha appointed to be read in the daily lessons.
The absolution was to be pronounced by the “priest,” instead of by the
“minister.” In the Litany, the words “rebellion and schism” were added
to the petition against sedition; and the words, “bishops, priests, and
deacons,” were substituted for “bishops, pastors, and ministers of the
Church.” A few new collects were added, and, in one of them, a new
epithet was added to the title of Charles I., he being styled “our most
religious king.” None of these things were calculated to make the
prayer-book more palatable to the Presbyterian and Dissenting parties,
and hence the terrible rupture occasioned by the passing of the Act of
Uniformity.

By that act it was provided, that “every parson, vicar, or other
minister whatsoever, now enjoying any ecclesiastical benefice or
promotion, within this realm of England,” who neglected or refused to
declare publicly, before his congregation, his “unfeigned assent and
consent to the use of all things contained and prescribed” in the Book
of Common Prayer, on some Lord’s-day before the feast of St Bartholomew,
in 1662, should be deprived of all his spiritual promotions; and that,
henceforth, it should be lawful for all patrons and donors of such
church livings to present others to the same, as though the person or
persons so offending or neglecting were dead. The act further provided,
that all deans, canons, and prebendaries; also all heads, fellows, and
tutors of colleges; and likewise all schoolmasters, keeping any public
or private schools, should, before the same feast of St Bartholomew,
subscribe a declaration to the effect that they would conform to the
liturgy of the Church of England, as now by law established; and that
they renounced all obligation from the oath commonly called “The Solemn
League and Covenant,” and regarded it as an unlawful oath, contrary to
the laws and liberties of the kingdom. It likewise enacted that all the
church functionaries above-mentioned who refused to subscribe to this
declaration were to be deprived of their promotions; and all
schoolmasters who refused were to suffer three months’ imprisonment. It
also provided that if any minister, not being a foreigner, who was not
episcopally ordained, should presume to administer the sacrament of the
Lord’s Supper after St Bartholomew’s day, he should, for every such
offence, forfeit the sum of £100; and if he presumed to lecture or
preach in any church, chapel, or other place of worship whatever, within
the realm of England, he should suffer three months’ imprisonment in the
common gaol. And another, though minor provision was, that the
parishioners of every parish church, at their own cost, should provide
for such church, before the feast of St Bartholomew, a true printed copy
of the revised Book of Common Prayer; and that they should be fined £3
for every month, after St Bartholomew’s, that they neglected to obey
such a mandate.

Such was the substance of that most momentous Act of Parliament. What
were the results? Terrible were the struggles in many a good man’s
breast during the fourteen weeks elapsing between the 19th of May and
the 24th of August 1662. As the corn ripened, and the country rector sat
with his wife in the snug parlour, and looked out of the latticed
windows on the children chasing the butterflies in the garden, or
gathering daisies on the glebe, he had to decide in his heart and
conscience whether he should leave all this, or whether he should keep
it. He must either _conform_, or he and his family must _go_. Such was
the ugly alternative. The vicarage was comfortable and commodious; the
means of usefulness had bright attractions; and hardest wrench of all it
was, to snap the union between the shepherd and his flock. To resolve to
_go_, required now and then a woman’s quiet fortitude to reinforce a
man’s more loud resolve.

Meanwhile, mutterings of discontent and growlings of sedition began to
be heard on every hand. Rumours circulated that some of the king’s
regiments were disaffected; that trained bands were refractory or
negligent; that gunsmiths were dressing arms; and that Lancashire
ministers talked little less than treason. The Court was uncertain
whether to execute or to suspend the Act. Presbyterian lords pleaded for
indulgence; but Sheldon was opposed to it. It was the long vacation, and
few of the council remained in town to decide the point. The nobility
were at their country seats enjoying the summer months. The bishops were
performing their visitations. Charles was at Hampton Court, joking with
his lords, toying with his mistresses, watching games in the tennis
court, and feeding ducks in the royal ponds. Time travelled on, and the
23d of August came. All Quakers imprisoned in the gaols of London and
Middlesex were released, because on that day Charles’s consort, Queen
Catherine, first came “to our royal palace at Westminster.” The Thames
was covered with boats almost without number. Music floated on the
water, and thundering peals roared from huge cannon on the shore.
Charles and his queen sailed in an open vessel covered with a canopy of
cloth of gold, which was supported by Corinthian pillars wreathed with
flowers, festoons, and garlands. This was Saturday.

The previous Sunday had been a day such as England never knew, either
before or since.[2] Hundreds of faithful ministers on that day preached
farewell sermons to heart-broken, weeping flocks. Churches were crowded;
aisles and stairs were crammed to suffocation; and people clung to the
open windows like swarms of bees. It would have been pardonable if the
ministers had mingled with the loving exhortations addressed to the
distressed crowds before them sentiments of indignation at the
legislative act which was the means of their removal. But, instead of
that, the discourses were as calm as the pastors had ever preached, and
some of them scarcely alluded to the peculiar circumstances of the time.

-----

Footnote 2:

  And yet, perhaps this is hardly true. A most pitiful picture might be
  drawn of the clergymen who, twenty years previously, had been expelled
  from the same churches by the _ipse dixit_ of Oliver Cromwell, whom
  Bishop Hackett represents as regarding neither parliaments nor
  patents—neither canons nor scriptures—“in comparison of some new light
  shining in the lantern of his own head.” Men of learning and religion
  were in many instances succeeded by “mere rhapsodists and ramblers,”
  “cried up as rare soul-saving preachers.” Not a few venerable and
  worthy ministers, expelled by the rough hand of violence, “lingered
  out their lives, laden and almost oppressed, worried, and worn out
  with fears, anxieties, necessities, rude affronts, and remediless
  afflictions.” A great deal may be said on both sides of the question.

-----

A week after, on the day after Queen Catherine’s jubilant reception, the
Act of Uniformity was enforced in all its rigour, and upwards of two
thousand ministers, with their families, were ejected from their
livings.[3]

-----

Footnote 3:

  Baxter estimates the number of the ejected and deprived as from 1800
  to 2000. Calamy gives it at 2400. A catalogue in Dr Williams’s library
  gives 2257. A manuscript, by Oliver Heywood, gives 2500.

-----

“What a scene,” says John Wesley, “is opened here. The poor
Nonconformists were used without either justice or mercy; and many of
the Protestant bishops of King Charles had neither more religion nor
humanity than the Popish bishops of Queen Mary.”[4] “By this Act of
Uniformity, thousands of men, guilty of no crime,—nothing contrary
either to justice, mercy, or truth,—were stripped of all they had—of
their houses, lands, revenues—and driven to seek where they could, or
beg their bread. For what? Because they did not dare to worship God
according to other men’s consciences!”[5]

-----

Footnote 4:

  Wesley’s Works, vol. ii. p. 297.

Footnote 5:

  _Ibid._, vol. xi. p. 37.

-----

A large majority of the ministers in the Church conformed; and these may
be divided into three classes—first, those who had been Presbyterians or
Independents, or other sectaries, and who on former occasions had more
or less opposed Episcopacy and the Book of Common Prayer; secondly,
those who had already conformed to previous changes—passively submitting
to their superiors for the time being, be they who they might; and,
thirdly, a class of consistent Episcopalians, including—1. such as had
been allowed to hold their livings, and to use the Prayer-book even
during the Commonwealth; 2. such as had been ejected from their
benefices, but had been reinstated since the Restoration; and, 3. such
as had been recently ordained, and inducted into livings during the last
twelve months. Many of these Conformists—as Tillotson, Gurnall,
Stillingfleet, Cudworth, and others—were men of high character; but many
others were low, mean, grovelling spirits, who valued the priest’s
office only because it gave them a piece of bread. In a publication of
that period, “the parsonage house” is described “as holding scarcely
anything but a budget of old stitched sermons, hung up behind the door,
with a few broken girths, two or three yards of whipcord, and perhaps a
saw and a hammer to prevent dilapidations.” Macaulay, speaking of the
rural clergy, says: “Those who could, sported a few Greek and Latin
words for the benefit of the squire, and pitched their discourses so as
to accommodate themselves to the fine clothes and ribbons in the highest
seats of the church, instead of seeking to instruct those of the
congregation who had to mind the plough and to mend the hedge.” And
again, in reference to the clergy in cities and corporations, he writes:
“There were men whose parts and education were no more than sufficient
for their reading the lessons, after twice conning over. An unlearned
rout of contemptible men,” says he, “rushed into holy orders just to
read the prayers, and who understood very little more of their meaning
than a hollow pipe would, made of tin or wainscot.” Some idea may be
formed of the character of many of the clergy who conformed in 1662,
from the fact that three years after, during the great plague in London,
instead of firmly remaining at the post of duty when most needed,
numbers of the London clergy, like craven spirits, rushed off into the
country, leaving their pulpits to be occupied, and their afflicted and
dying parishioners to be cared for, by the very ministers who had been
ejected by the Act of Uniformity.

The Nonconformist ministers may be divided into several classes:—1. Some
were moderate Episcopalians, and would have conformed to the Prayer-book
and to the Church government that were in use previous to the
Commonwealth, but could not give their unfeigned assent to all things in
the Prayer-book as revised by the Convocation of 1661. 2. Some were of
no sect or party, but liked what was good in all, without being able to
adopt the Prayer-book as prescribed. 3. Some were Presbyterians, of whom
Baxter says: “They were the soberest and most judicious, unanimous,
peaceable, faithful, able, and constant ministers that he had ever heard
or read of in the Christian world.” 4. Some were Independents, of whom
the same writer says: “They were serious, godly men, some of them
moderate, little differing from the Presbyterians, and as well ordered
as any; but others were more raw and self-conceited, and addicted to
separations and divisions, their zeal being greater than their
knowledge.” Perhaps Baxter was hardly an unprejudiced witness respecting
either the Presbyterians or the Independents.

Amongst the ministers expelled by the Act of Uniformity, there were not
a few of the most remarkable men that the Church in this country has
ever had. Most of them were excellent scholars, judicious divines,
faithful and laborious pastors; men full of zeal for God and religion,
undaunted in the service of their Master, diligent students, and
powerful preachers. Especially were they men of great devotion, pleading
for almost hours together at the throne of grace, and there inspired
with faith, and love, and zeal, which raised them to the highest rank of
heroes, and made them willing, not only to lose their livings, but to
suffer even martyrdom itself, rather than to prove traitorous to Christ
and to the liberties of His Church. More than two thousand of such men
were ejected from the Church benefices of this country in 1662, and a
passing glance at some of them may help the reader to remember others.

In this portrait-gallery, let us point to Edmund Calamy, who studied at
the rate of sixteen hours a-day, was one of the most popular preachers
in the capital, and whose week-day lectures were attended by such
numbers of the nobility, that there were seldom fewer than sixty
carriages at his church’s gates. William Bates, of graceful mien and
comely person, generally reputed one of the best orators of the age,—his
voice charming, his language neat, his style pleasing, his learning
vast, his piety conspicuous, and his “Harmony of the Divine Attributes”
alone sufficient to immortalise his memory. Samuel Annesley, who
declared he remembered not the time when he was not converted; the
descendant of a good family, whose estate was considerable; a man of a
large soul, of flaming zeal, and of extensive usefulness; faithful in
the ministry for fifty-five long years, during the last thirty of which
he enjoyed an uninterrupted assurance of God’s forgiving love; a man of
moderate learning, though an LL.D., but a most devoted Christian, and
the father of Susannah Wesley. Joseph Caryl, a man of great piety,
learning, and modesty, and author of a marvellous Commentary on the Book
of Job, originally published in eleven volumes quarto. Thomas Brookes, a
very affecting and useful preacher, rich in homely phrases and familiar
figures, and whose “Apples of Gold” are still prized as much as ever.
Matthew Pool, who spent ten years upon his “Synopsis Criticorum,” in
five volumes folio, and who, during its compilation, used to rise
between three and four o’clock every morning. Thomas Manton, a man of
great learning, judgment, and integrity, and respected by all who knew
him; endowed with extraordinary knowledge of the Holy Scriptures; his
sermons clear and convincing; his delivery natural, eloquent, quick, and
powerful; his piety answerable to his doctrines; and, to say nothing of
his other publications, which were very numerous, his discourses,
including those on the 119th Psalm, published in five volumes folio.
Thomas Gouge, who, besides preaching and visiting, catechised his church
every morning the year round; seldom merry, and yet never sad; a man who
set up and established three or four hundred schools in Wales, which, to
a great extent, were supported by himself. Thomas Watson, eminent in the
gift of prayer, a hard student, a popular preacher, and author of “A
Body of Divinity,” in the shape of sermons on the “Assembly’s
Catechism.” John Goodwin, learned, clear-headed, and fluent; a thorough
Arminian, and the author of “Redemption Redeemed.” John Owen, whose
proficiency in learning was such, that he was admitted to the University
when he was a child only twelve years old; and who pursued his studies
with such diligence that, for several years, he allowed himself but four
hours’ sleep a-night; tall in stature, affable in temper, charitable in
spirit, and a friend of peace; a man of enormous learning, and whose
labours as a minister were almost incredible; eminent for piety, an
excellent preacher, and whose writings are almost enough to fill a
library. Stephen Charnock, who spent most of his time in his study,
except on Sundays, when, by his sermons in the pulpit, he showed how
well he had employed the week; a man of strong judgment and lively
imagination; well skilled in the Hebrew and Greek of the Old and New
Testaments; a recluse, whose library was burnt in the great fire of
London, and who was writing his discourses on the “Attributes of God,”
when a peaceful death removed him to heaven. Thomas Harrison, of whom
Lord Thomund used to say, “He had rather hear Dr Harrison say grace over
an egg, than hear the bishops pray and preach.” John Flavel, an
unwearied student, with an immense amount of both divine and human
learning; a plain but popular preacher, and the well-known author of
“Husbandry Spiritualised.” Isaac Ambrose, who, once a year, for the
space of a month, retired to a hut, in a wood near Preston, and,
avoiding all human converse, devoted himself to religious contemplation.
Richard Alleine, pious, prudent, diligent, and whose well-known
practical writings have been blessed to thousands. Joseph Alleine, of
solid intellect and great piety; a man whose imprisonment for preaching
hastened his death at the early age of thirty-five, and whose “Alarm to
the Unconverted” has been read by myriads. Oliver Heywood, who, besides
his stated work on Sundays, one year preached more than a hundred times,
kept fifty fast days and nine days of thanksgiving, and, in the service
of his Master, travelled fourteen hundred miles. Philip Henry, who
preached a funeral sermon for every person whom he buried, but whose
excessive modesty was such that he would publish nothing that he wrote.
John Howe, who, when a young minister in Devonshire, used to perform
divine service on fast-days (at that time frequent) as follows:—At nine
in the morning he prayed for a quarter of an hour; then read the
Scriptures and expounded three quarters of an hour; then prayed an hour;
then preached another; then prayed half an hour, after which the people
sung for fifteen minutes; he then prayed an hour more, preached another,
and then, with a prayer of half an hour, concluded a service which
lasted from nine in the morning until a quarter past three in the
afternoon;—John Howe, in person tall and graceful; with a piercing but
pleasant eye; singularly great in ministerial qualifications; his power
in prayer marvellous, and his writings too well known to need
description. And last, but not least, Richard Baxter, a man to whom Lord
Chancellor Clarendon offered a bishopric, and whom Judge Jeffries,
another government official, addressed thus:—“Richard, Richard! thou art
an old knave. Thou hast written books enow to fill a cart, every one of
them as full of sedition, indeed treason, as an egg is full of
meat;”—Baxter, “a man,” says his contemporary, William Bates, “with a
noble negligence of style; for his great mind could not stoop to the
affected eloquence of words;”—a man animated with the Holy Spirit, and
breathing celestial fire to inspire life into sinners dead in trespasses
and sins; a man whose expulsion from the Church gave him time to write
and publish most of his invaluable books, some of which have been the
means of converting more men from sin to holiness than any other books
in modern times;—a man, says Dr Barrow, “whose practical writings were
never mended, and his controversial ones seldom confuted;”—a man holding
constant communion with God, and living in charity with men; whose life
was a living sermon, and his conversation becoming a citizen of heaven.

Such were some of the two thousand martyr spirits who were ruthlessly
ejected from their churches and their homes in 1662, and, for years
afterwards, had to live in obscurity and silence; yea more, not only
were they doomed to silence, but to suffering. In 1664 the “Conventicle
Act” was passed, which provided that “every person above sixteen years
of age present at any meeting of more than five persons besides the
household, under a pretence of any exercise of religion, in other manner
than is the practice of the Church of England, shall, for the first
offence, be sent to gaol three months, till he pay a £5 fine; for the
second offence, six months, till he pay a £10 fine; and for the third
offence, be transported to some of the American plantations.” The
execution of this execrable act, to a great extent, was committed to the
king’s soldiers, who broke open every house where they fancied a few
Nonconformists might be gathered together for sacred service. Close,
unhealthy prisons were soon crammed with conscientious victims, men and
women, old and young; whilst others were ruined in their estates by
bribing the corrupt and rapacious myrmidons of a licentious and
persecuting court. If a few of these persecuted people happened to be
driven to madness and insurrection, as now and then occurred, they were
strung up on the gallows, a dozen at a time, the _good-natured_ king
rarely exercising the prerogative of mercy on their behalf.

In 1665 the plague broke out in London, and swept away one hundred
thousand of the inhabitants. The poltroon ministers in the city churches
fled, and the ejected ministers re-entered the forsaken pulpits, and
tried to benefit the terror-stricken people, whom the new-fledged
parsons had cowardly left to the pestilence and the devil. The
parliament, frightened from London, met in Oxford; but there, instead of
showing kindness to the men who were so bravely doing duty in the city
of the plague, they actually added injury to injury, by passing the
execrable “Five Mile Act,” which provided that it should be a penal
offence for any Nonconformist minister to teach in a school, or to come
within five miles (except as a traveller in passing) of any city,
borough, or corporate town, or of any place in which he had preached or
taught since the passing of the Act of Uniformity, unless he had
previously taken the oath of non-resistance—to wit, that it is not
lawful, under any pretence whatever, to take arms against the king, or
against those that are commissioned by him, or to endeavour to make any
alteration of the government, either in Church or State.

What was the result of all this? An amount of suffering was endured far
greater than had been inflicted, in the same space of time, since the
days of the Reformation. Jeremy White collected a list of the names of
Nonconformist sufferers, amounting to sixty thousand, and he states that
of these sufferers five thousand died in prison. Informers skulked about
cottages, garrets, back rooms, stables, and outhouses, wherever they
suspected a handful of quiet Christians might be assembled to hear the
word of life from the lips of an old pastor; and despite curtains,
shutters, trap-doors, and other simple devices to ensure safety, seized
on their hapless victims, and dragged them before merciless magistrates,
who, with savage joy, doomed them to deep, dark prisons. Some, in search
of godly quietude, wandered far away, others secreted themselves in
fields and woods, but the more daring remained in their former
dwellings, and met to worship God, in consequence of which they were led
off to prison. Students, deprived of all means of subsistence, had to
lay aside their books, take up the spindle, earn a few pence at
knitting, and live on the coarsest fare. Closets, beds, tubs, hay-ricks,
and other places of concealment were haunted by ruffian soldiers,
pointing a musket at the door, or thrusting a sword into the straw.
Troopers made no scruple of rushing into a good man’s house, while he
was at prayer, and of threatening, while holding a pistol at his head,
to blow out his brains, unless he ceased from his whining cant.

These were days of terror and of suffering such as Englishmen now seldom
think about. Thousands of disgraceful and heart-rending facts might be
stated. Suffice it to remark that, notwithstanding the severity of law,
the harshness of magistrates, the brutality of constables, the
deceitfulness of spies, and the rudeness of the rabble, Nonconformists
continued as numerous as ever. Their firmness of character, their plain,
practical, and awakening ministry, the purity of their morals, their
strict observance of the Sabbath, their care for family religion, their
succession of able and learned preachers, the disgust at the
persecutions they were made to suffer, and the reaction produced by
pushing High Church principles to an unbearable extent, in the short
space of a quarter of a century, brought about the English Revolution of
1688, and obtained for them that which is the birthright of all, liberty
to worship God according to the dictates of their own consciences.

Samuel Wesley began life amid all this royal perfidy, legalised
suffering, and national excitement, and, as we shall shortly see, he was
the son of one of the two thousand persecuted and martyr-like ministers,
ejected from their churches and their homes by the tyrannic Act of
Uniformity, passed and enforced in the year 1662.

[This chapter has been compiled principally from Baxter’s _Life and
Times_; Calamy’s _Nonconformist Memorials_; Calamy’s _Life and Times_;
Macaulay’s _History_; Knight’s _Pictorial History of England_;
Stoughton’s _Church and State Two Hundred Years Ago_; Alleine’s
_Memorial_, by Stanford; Gauden’s _Ecclesiæ Anglicanæ Suspiria_, 1659;
Walker’s _Sufferings of the Clergy_, 1714; _History of Modern
Enthusiasm_, 1757; Rees’ _Encyclopædia_; _Encyclopædia Britannica_; and
from tracts and pamphlets too numerous to mention.]




                              CHAPTER II.
                          PARENTAGE—1600–1670.


Samuel Wesley was the grandson of Bartholomew Wesley, rector of
Catherston, in Dorsetshire. Bartholomew Wesley was born about the year
1600; but the place of his nativity is not known. He received a
university education, a fact indicating, to some extent, the
circumstances and the religious opinions of his parents. Calamy informs
us, that, while at the university, Bartholomew Wesley applied himself to
the study of physic, as well as of divinity; and the knowledge which he
acquired was of great advantage to him in the dark days of his after
life. In 1640 he was inducted to the rectory of Charmouth, and in 1650
to that of Catherston; both of which he held until his ejectment in
1662.

Catherston and Charmouth are villages in the south-western extremity of
Dorsetshire; the former about a mile distant from the latter. Catherston
stands on an eminence, and Charmouth in the valley adjoining it.

Like many others, Bartholomew Wesley was driven from his rectories by
the Act of Uniformity. After this, though he preached occasionally, he
had to support himself and his family by the practice of physic. Calamy
says he used a peculiar plainness of speech, which hindered his being an
acceptable, popular preacher.

Nothing more is known of Bartholomew Wesley, except a story related by
Lord Clarendon, embellished by Anthony á Wood, and retailed by Rapin and
others. Wood calls him “the fanatical minister, sometime of Charmouth,
in Dorsetshire,” who, in 1651, had like to have “betrayed Lord Wilmot
and King Charles II., when they continued incognito in that county,” but
Wood was a man so bitter and intolerant that all he says ought to be
received with caution.

The substance of the story, as given by Clarendon and others, is as
follows:—After the battle of Worcester, in 1651, Charles II. wished to
escape to France, and it was privately arranged that the vessel, in
which he was to cross the channel, was to be near Charmouth on the night
of September 22d. A man was sent to engage for that night the best rooms
at the inn, at Charmouth, for a pretended wedding party, who wished to
stop to refresh themselves and horses. All this being arranged, the
party arrived at the inn, and were secretly assured that about midnight
the long boat, to take them to the vessel, would be at the place
appointed. The King and Lord Wilmot waited at the inn; and Colonel
Wyndam and his man Peters went to the sea-side to look for the boat; but
looked all night in vain. At break of day, they urged the king and Lord
Wilmot quickly to escape from Charmouth for fear of treachery. The
reason why the boat had not come, as was agreed, was, because the wife
of the man who had charge of it suspected what was transpiring, and
locked her husband in his chamber, and would on no account permit him
egress. While Lord Wilmot was obtaining this information, a blacksmith
of the name of Hammet[6] was requested to shoe his lordship’s horse. The
smith, from the fashion of the shoes, declared they had been made, not
in the west, but in the north. Henry Hull,[7] the hostler, hearing this,
stated that the company, of whom Wilmot was one, had sat up all night,
and kept their horses saddled. It was at once inferred, that the party
who had departed from Charmouth that morning, was either the king and
his friends, or some of the king’s distinguished adherents. The hostler
ran to Wesley, the minister, to ask his counsel. Wesley was at his
morning exercise, and being somewhat long-winded, he wearied the
hostler’s patience, who returned to the blacksmith’s shop without
telling his suspicions. In the meantime, Lord Wilmot had mounted and was
gone. The blacksmith then told Wesley what had happened. Wesley went to
the inn to make further inquiries, and then went with the blacksmith to
a magistrate, to give him information, that warrants might be issued for
the apprehension of the suspected fugitives. No warrants, however, were
obtained; but a party pursued the king and his friends as far as
Dorchester, where the pursuit was ended.

-----

Footnote 6:

  _Gent. Mag._, 1785, p. 427.

Footnote 7:

  _Ibid._

-----

Such is the story in brief; but Clarendon adds that the day when Charles
and his friends were waiting at Charmouth was a day appointed by the
Parliament for a solemn fast, and that a fanatical weaver, who had been
a soldier in the parliamentary army, was preaching against the king in a
little chapel fronting the obscure inn where his Majesty was stopping;
that, to avoid suspicion, Charles was among the weaver’s audience; and
that this was the man who hastened to make inquiries at the inn, and
that applied to a magistrate for a warrant.

John Wesley’s account of this affair is short. Like Clarendon, he
states, that the minister was a weaver, but omits to state that he was
his own great-grandfather. He writes:—“Pursuing his journey to the
sea-side, Charles once more had a very providential escape from a little
inn, where he set up for the night. The day had been appointed by
parliament a solemn fast; and a weaver, who had been a soldier in the
parliament army, was preaching against the king in a little chapel
fronting the house. Charles, to avoid suspicion, was himself among the
audience. It happened that a smith, of the same principles with the
weaver, had been examining the horses belonging to the passengers, and
came to assure the preacher that he knew by the fashion of the shoes,
that one of the strangers’ horses came from the north. The preacher
immediately affirmed that this horse could belong to no other than
Charles Stuart, and instantly went with a constable to search the inn.
But Charles had left before the constable’s arrival.”[8]

-----

Footnote 8:

  Wesley’s _History of England_, vol. iii. p. 230.

-----

In a book entitled “Miraculum Basilicon,” by A. J., (Abraham Jennings,)
and published in 1664, there are a few other particulars, in reference
to this occurrence, possessed of some interest. The author calls Wesley
“the puny parson of the place, and a most devoted friend to the
parricides;” and designates the “morning exercise” in which he was
engaged, when the hostler went to him, “his long breathed devotions, and
bloody prayers.” Wesley having heard the rumour about the travellers at
the inn, went to the innkeeper to make inquiries. The writer says,
“Wesley, this pitiful dwindling pastor, posted to the innkeeper, and
with most eager blusterations, catechised him concerning what travellers
he had lodged that night; from whence they came, and whither they would,
and what they did there? His suspicions being increased by the answers
he received, he went to Dr Butler, the next justice of the peace,
requiring a warrant, by which he would stir up the people and the
soldiers to endeavour the apprehending of the king. The justice having
refused to grant the warrant, Captain Massey, who was in the
neighbourhood, at once gathered as many soldiers as he was able, and
followed after the fugitives in the way towards London, until he came to
Dorchester; but, by a most divine instinct, the king turned another way,
crossing the country a little beyond Bridport, and so escaped from his
pursuer Captain Massey!”

Dr A. Clarke has, with great earnestness, endeavoured to make it clear
that Bartholomew Wesley was not the man who tried to entrap King
Charles; and, if Clarendon’s description was literally correct, that the
preacher was a weaver, there would be presumptive evidence in favour of
Clarke’s opinion. It is quite possible that Wesley might have been in
the parliamentary army; but, remembering that he received his education
in the Oxford University, it is hardly probable that he was a weaver
previous to his removal there. The only reasonable way to reconcile
Wood’s statement that Wesley was the minister who informed, with
Clarendon’s assertion that the preacher was a weaver, is to suppose
that, on account of the smallness of his income, Bartholomew Wesley,
like many others, found it expedient to have a spinning-wheel, and to
weave his home-spun yarns into home-made cloths. Admit such a
supposition, and all difficulties vanish. Wesley might have been in the
army; in such a sense, he might be a weaver; and he might be preaching,
and might have King Charles in his Charmouth congregation on the day
already mentioned.

Dr A. Clarke seems to be exceedingly unwilling to admit that Bartholomew
Wesley was guilty of an act so mean as that of giving information
concerning King Charles. As to the meanness or merit of such an act,
opinions will differ. We submit, however, that, in such a case,
Bartholomew Wesley only did his duty. Probably he had been in the
parliamentary army, and had fought for the emancipation of his country
from the perfidious thraldom of the Stuart dynasty. He was now, by the
authority of the parliamentary government, the appointed clergyman of
the two parishes where he lived. Only twelve days before the attempt of
Charles to escape to France from Charmouth, the Parliament had issued a
proclamation, threatening those who concealed the king, or any of his
party; and on the very day when it was arranged for the plan of escape
to France to be carried out, that proclamation had been published two
miles hence, in the adjacent town of Lyme. Let the reader bear all this
in mind, and he will probably conclude that Dr A. Clarke’s earnest
attempt to clear Bartholomew Wesley from the charge of giving
information concerning the royal fugitive, was a labour of love not
needed; and that the whole affair, instead of injuring the rector’s fair
fame, is greatly to his credit. He performed a duty, a painful duty; and
for that he deserves, not excuses, but thanks.

Bartholomew Wesley, after being ejected from his church at Charmouth,
still continued to reside in the same village, and obtained a livelihood
by the practice of physic. He made no secret of the fact that it was his
intention and wish to capture the king; and he jokingly told a gentleman
that he was “confident that, if ever the king came back, he would be
certain to love long prayers; for if he (Wesley) had not been at that
time longer than ordinary at his devotion, he would have surely snapt
him.”[9] His were days of strife, of change, of oppression, and of
sorrow. He lived to a good old age, for he survived his son John, whose
death, in 1678, greatly affected him. He preached when he could, and
administered physic as far as he was able. A local historian writes
concerning the persecuted dissenting Christians in the west: “They were
rewarded with cruel mockings, bonds, and imprisonments; they wandered in
deserts and in mountains; and in dens and caverns they hid themselves.
In the solitudes of Pinney they offered up their prayers, in a dell
between two high rocks, which have ever since been called the
_Whitechapel_ Rocks; and in an old house at Lyme there was recently
discovered an ingeniously concealed oak staircase, capable of admitting
only one person at a time, which led to a small apartment that had been
used as a chapel.” In such places, Bartholomew Wesley joined his
fellow-Christians in the worship which they stealthily presented to
Almighty God. He and they have long since passed to the place where “the
wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.”

-----

Footnote 9:

  _Gent. Mag._, 1785, p. 487.

-----

Samuel Wesley’s father was John, the son of the ejected rector of
Catherston and Charmouth, and was born about the year 1636. Even when a
boy at school, he had deep religious convictions and feelings, and began
to keep a diary of God’s gracious dealings with him, which, with slight
interruptions, was continued to the end of life. That diary is now
unfortunately lost, or at all events, if it still exists, no one seems
to know where it is.

At the usual age he was entered a student of New Inn Hall, Oxford, and,
in due course of time, became M.A. At the period when John Wesley
matriculated, Dr John Owen, who was Cromwell’s chaplain, filled the
office of vice-chancellor, and treated the young student with marked
attention. Wesley was serious and diligent, and applied himself
particularly to the study of the Oriental languages, in which he made
great proficiency.

Owen was elected vice-chancellor in 1652, when John Wesley was about
sixteen years of age, and continued in that high office until 1657,
which was a few months before Wesley’s entrance upon the ministry; so
that it is not improbable that Wesley was at Oxford during the whole of
the administration of this distinguished man. Owen found this ancient
seat of learning in an exceedingly disordered state. After withstanding
a long siege, it had recently been obliged to surrender to the
parliament forces, and was now left so desolate, that men said, in their
excitement, it looked like Jerusalem in ruins. Broken trees and trampled
gardens were seen on every hand. Sculptured stones and pictured windows
lay shattered in the grass. Nettles and brambles were growing round the
walls of colleges. The rich wood-work in the quadrangle of Christ Church
had been used for fuel. The halls had been turned into granaries, and
the colleges into barracks. So long had Mars usurped the place of
Minerva, and students been accustomed to exchange cap for helmet, that
the scholastic air had almost vanished. “There was little or no
education of youth. Poverty, desolation, and plunder,—the sad effects of
war,—were to be seen in every corner.” To correct these evils, to curb
the licentiousness of the students, to maintain the rights of the
university, and to support its character for piety and learning, Owen
set himself most vigorously, and he happily succeeded. Anthony Wood
describes him as putting down “formalities and all ceremony, and as
undervaluing his office by going in _quirpo_, like a young scholar, with
powdered hair, snake-bone band strings, a large set of ribbons pointed
at his knees, and Spanish leather boots, with large lawn tops, and his
hat mostly cocked.” Be this as it might, among the students Owen acted
as a father. While he discountenanced and punished the vicious, he
encouraged and rewarded the modest and the indigent; and, under his
administration, the whole body was reduced to good order, and contained
a great number of excellent scholars, and persons of distinguished
piety.

At this period, Dr Thomas Goodwin, distinguished for his piety,
learning, and industry, was president of Magdalen College; George
Porter, a man of great gravity, integrity, self-denial, and charity, was
Proctor of the University; Stephen Charnock was Senior Proctor of New
College; Ralph Button, whom Baxter describes as “a most humble, worthy,
godly man,” was Canon of Christ Church; Thomas Cole, the tutor of John
Locke, was Principal of St Mary’s Hall; John Howe was Fellow of Magdalen
College; Dr Edmund Staunton, who was a living concordance to the Bible,
was President of Corpus Christi College; Dr Wilkins, who married
Cromwell’s sister, and was afterwards Bishop of Chester, was Warden of
Wadham College; Dr Pococke, the greatest Oriental scholar of his time,
was Professor of Arabic. Such were some of the celebrated men who
flourished at Oxford at the time when John Wesley was a student there.
And among others who, during the same period, received a part or the
whole of their academical education in the same university, may be
mentioned:—William Penn, the celebrated Quaker; Philip Henry, the
eminent Nonconformist; Dr South, so famed for his pungent sermons; Sir
Christopher Wren, the illustrious architect; Dr Whitby, the learned
commentator; Launcelot Addison, father to Joseph Addison, the essayist;
Bishops Spratt and Compton, who afterwards ordained John Wesley’s son
Samuel; Bishops Crewe, Cartwright, Hopkins, Ken, Fowler, Wiseman,
Hooper, Marsh, Huntingdon, Cumberland, Turner, and Lloyd; Joseph
Alleine, subsequently John Wesley’s companion in tribulation; and
Charles Morton, in whose academy Samuel Wesley was afterwards a student.
Such were the distinguished contemporaries of Samuel Wesley’s father in
Oxford University.

John Wesley first began to preach, among seamen, at Radipole, a village
about two miles distant from Weymouth. In the meantime the vicar of
Winterborn-Whitchurch died, and the people of that parish wished Wesley
to preach to them as a minister on probation. He went; his ministry and
life gave satisfaction to those who invited him; he passed his
examination before Cromwell’s “Triers;” and, by the trustees, was
appointed to the living. This was in May 1658, when he was about
twenty-two years of age.

Winterborn-Whitchurch is a village about five miles from Blandford, in
Dorsetshire, and in 1851 had a population of 595. The income of the
living, when it was presented to John Wesley, was about £30 a year. He
was promised an augmentation of £100 a year; but, on account of the many
changes in public affairs which soon afterwards took place, the promise
failed in its fulfilment.

Oliver Cromwell died four months after John Wesley was inducted into
this church benefice, and, as a consequence, the nation became more
distracted than ever. There was, in fact, no efficient civil government,
and the ruling power fell wholly into the hands of the army. In 1659,
what was called “The Committee of Safety” was appointed, consisting of
twenty-three persons, who were ordered “to endeavour some settlement of
affairs, by preparing such a form of government as might best comport
with a free state and commonwealth.” The Committee agreed upon seven
articles:—1. That there should be no kingship. 2. That there should be
no single person as chief magistrate. 3. That the army should be
continued. 4. That there should be no imposition upon conscience. 5. No
House of Peers. 6. That the legislative and executive powers should be
in distinct hands. 7. That parliament should be elected by the people.
Inextricable confusion followed. Plotter plotted against plotter, and
the cleverest man was he who could best act the hypocrite. General Monk
and his army wished for the restoration of Charles; but parliament and
the Committee of Safety _seemed_ to be opposed to this; and there was
serious danger of a recurrence of civil wars. John Wesley was a young
man, twenty-three years of age, and for a time appears to have
sympathised with the party represented by the Committee of Safety, and
to have taken up the sword on their behalf; but when Charles was
restored to the throne of his fathers, in 1666, the young soldier
quietly submitted, and took the oath of allegiance and loyalty.

Some of these facts are referred to in the following conversation, taken
from Calamy’s “Nonconformists’ Memorial.” It may be added, that Dr
Gilbert Ironside had been rector of Steepleton and Abbas Winterborn,
parishes in Dorset, not far from where the Wesleys lived. He was
consecrated Bishop of Bristol about the time of Charles’s restoration,
and was informed that John Wesley would not read the Liturgy. The bishop
expressed a desire to see him. Wesley waited upon his lordship; and the
following catechetical interview took place:—

_Bishop._ What is your name?

_Wesley._ John Wesley.

_Bishop._ There are many great matters charged upon you.

_Wesley._ Mr Horloch acquainted me that it was your lordship’s desire
that I should come to you; and, on that account, I am here to wait upon
you.

_Bishop._ By whom were you ordained? or are you ordained?

_Wesley._ I am sent to preach the gospel.

_Bishop._ By whom were you sent?

_Wesley._ By a church of Jesus Christ.

_Bishop._ What church is that?

_Wesley._ The church of Christ at Melcombe.

_Bishop._ That factious and heretical church!

_Wesley._ May it please you, sir, I know no faction or heresy that that
church is guilty of.

_Bishop._ No! Did not _you_ preach such things as tend to faction and
heresy?

_Wesley._ I am not conscious to myself of any such preaching.

_Bishop._ I am informed by Sir Gerrard Napper, Mr Freak, and Mr
Tregonnel of your doings. What say you?

_Wesley._ I have been with those honoured gentlemen, who, being
misinformed, proceeded with some heat against me.

_Bishop._ There are the oaths of several honest men, who have observed
you.

_Wesley._ There was no oath given or taken. Besides, if it be enough to
accuse, who shall be innocent? I can appeal to the determination of the
great day of judgment, that the large catalogue of matters laid against
me are either things invented or mistaken.

_Bishop._ Did not you ride with your sword in the time of the Committee
of Safety, and engage with them?

_Wesley._ Whatever imprudences in civil matters you may be informed I am
guilty of, I shall crave leave to acquaint your lordship, that his
Majesty having pardoned them fully, and I having suffered on account of
them since the pardon, I shall put in no other plea, and waive any other
answer.

_Bishop._ In what manner did the church you speak of send you to preach?
At this rate everybody might preach.

_Wesley._ Not every one. Everybody has not preaching gifts and preaching
graces. Besides, that is not all I have to offer to your lordship to
justify my preaching.

_Bishop._ If you preach, it must be according to order; the order of the
Church of England, upon an ordination.

_Wesley._ What does your lordship mean by an ordination?

_Bishop._ Do not you know what I mean?

_Wesley._ If you mean that spoken of Rom. x., I had it.

_Bishop._ I mean that. What mission had you?

_Wesley._ I had a mission from God and man.

_Bishop._ You must have it according to law, and the order of the Church
of England.

_Wesley._ I am not satisfied in my spirit therein.

_Bishop._ Not satisfied in your _spirit_! You have more new-coined
phrases than ever were heard of! You mean your conscience, do you not?

_Wesley._ _Spirit_ is no new phrase. We read of being “sanctified in
body, soul, and _spirit_,” but, if your lordship like it not so, then I
say, I am not satisfied in my _conscience_, touching the ordination you
speak of.

_Bishop._ Conscience argues science, science supposes judgment, and
judgment reason. What reason have you that you will not be thus
ordained?

_Wesley._ I came not this day to dispute with your lordship; my own
ability would forbid me to do so.

_Bishop._ No, no; but give me your reason.

_Wesley._ I am not called to office, and therefore cannot be ordained.

_Bishop._ Why, then, have you preached all this while?

_Wesley._ I was called to the _work_ of the ministry, though not to the
_office_. There is, as we believe, _vocatio ad opus, et ad munus_.

_Bishop._ Why may you not have the office of the ministry? You have so
many new distinctions! oh, how you are deluded!

_Wesley._ May it please your lordship, because they are not a people
that are fit objects for me to exercise office-work among them.

_Bishop._ You mean a gathered church: but we must have no gathered
churches in England; and you will see it so. For there must be unity
without divisions among us; and there can be no unity without
uniformity. Well, then, we must send you to your church, that they may
dispose of you, if you were ordained by them.

_Wesley._ I have been informed by my cousin Pitfield and others,
concerning your lordship, that you have a disposition opposed to
morosity. However you may be prepossessed by some bitter enemies to my
person, yet, there are others, who can and will give you another
character of me. Mr Glisson hath done it; and Sir Francis Fulford
desired me to present his service to you, and, being my hearer, is ready
to acquaint you concerning me.

_Bishop._ I asked Sir Francis Fulford whether the presentation to
Whitchurch was his. Whose is it? He told me it was not his.

_Wesley._ There was none presented to it these sixty years. Mr Walton
lived there. At his departure, the people desired me to preach to them;
and, when there was a way of settlement appointed, I was by the trustees
appointed, and by the Triers approved.

_Bishop._ They would approve any that would come to them, and close with
them. I know they approved those who could not read twelve lines of
English.

_Wesley._ All that they did I know not; but I was examined touching
gifts and graces.

_Bishop._ I question not your gifts, Mr Wesley. I will do you any good I
can; but you will not long be suffered to preach, unless you do it
according to order.

_Wesley._ I shall submit to any trial you shall please to make. I shall
present your lordship with a confession of my faith, or take what other
way you please to insist on.

_Bishop._ No; we are not come to that yet.

_Wesley._ I shall desire several things may be laid together, which I
look on as justifying my preaching:—1. I was devoted to the service from
my infancy. 2. I was educated thereto, at school and in the university.

_Bishop._ What university were you of?

_Wesley._ Oxon.

_Bishop._ What house?

_Wesley._ New Inn Hall.

_Bishop._ What age are you?

_Wesley._ Twenty-five.

_Bishop._ No sure, you are not!

_Wesley._ 3. As a son of the prophets, after I had taken my degrees, I
preached in the country, being approved of by judicious, able
Christians, ministers, and others. 4. It pleased God to seal my labour
with success, in the apparent conversion of several souls.

_Bishop._ Yea, that is, it may be, to your own way.

_Wesley._ Yea to the power of godliness, from ignorance and profaneness.
If it please your lordship, to lay down any evidences of godliness
agreeing with the Scriptures, and if they be not found in those persons
intended, I am content to be discharged from my ministry; I will stand
or fall by the issue thereof.

_Bishop._ You talk of the power of godliness such as you fancy.

_Wesley._ Yea, the reality of religion. Let us appeal to any commonplace
book for evidences of grace, and they are found in and upon these
converts.

_Bishop._ How many are there of them?

_Wesley._ I number not the people.

_Bishop._ Where are they?

_Wesley._ Wherever I have been called to preach—at Radipole, Melcombe,
Turnworth, Whitchurch, and at sea. I shall add another ingredient of my
mission. 5. When the church saw the presence of God going along with me,
they did, by fasting and prayer, in a day set apart for that end, seek
an abundant blessing on my endeavours.

_Bishop._ A particular church?

_Wesley._ Yes, my lord. I am not ashamed to own myself a member of one.

_Bishop._ Why, you mistake the apostles’ intent. They went about to
convert heathens, and so did what they did. You have no warrant for your
particular churches.

_Wesley._ We have a plain, full, and sufficient rule for gospel worship
in the New Testament, recorded in the Acts of the Apostles and in the
Epistles.

_Bishop._ We have not.

_Wesley._ The practice of the apostles is a standing rule in those cases
which were not extraordinary.

_Bishop._ Not their practice, but their precepts.

_Wesley._ Both precepts and practice. Our duty is not delivered to us in
Scripture only by precepts, but by precedents, by promises, and by
threatenings mixed. We are to follow them as they followed Christ.

_Bishop._ But the apostle said, “This speak I; not the Lord”—that is, by
revelation.

_Wesley._ Some interpret that place, “This speak I now, by revelation
from the Lord”—not the Lord in that text before instanced, when he gave
answer concerning divorce. May it please your lordship, we believe that
“cultus non institutus est indebitus.”

_Bishop._ It is false.

_Wesley._ The second commandment speaks the same: “Thou shalt not make
unto thyself any graven image.”

_Bishop._ That is, forms of your own invention.

_Wesley._ Bishop Andrews, taking notice of “non facies tibi,” satisfied
me that we may not worship God but as commanded.

_Bishop._ You take discipline, church government, and circumstances for
worship.

_Wesley._ You account ceremonies a part of worship.

_Bishop._ But what say you? Did you not wear a sword in the time of the
Committee of Safety, with Demy and the rest of them?

_Wesley._ My lord, I have given you my answer therein; and I further
say, that I have conscientiously taken the oath of allegiance, and
faithfully kept it hitherto. I appeal to all that are around me.

_Bishop._ But nobody will trust you. You stood it out to the last gasp.

_Wesley._ I know not what you mean by the last gasp. When I saw the
pleasure of Providence to turn the order of things, I did submit quietly
thereto.

_Bishop._ That was at last.

_Wesley._ Yet many such men are trusted, and now about the king.

_Bishop._ They are such as, though on the parliament side during the
war, yet disown those latter proceedings; but you abode even till
Haselrig’s coming to Portsmouth.

_Wesley._ His Majesty has pardoned whatever you may be informed of
concerning me of that nature. I am not here on that account.

_Bishop._ I expected you not.

_Wesley._ Your lordship sent your desire by two or three messengers. Had
I been refractory, I need not have come; but I would give no just cause
of offence. I think the old Nonconformists were none of his Majesty’s
enemies.

_Bishop._ They were traitors. They began the war. Knox and Buchanan in
Scotland, and those like them in England.

_Wesley._ I have read the protestation of owning the king’s supremacy.

_Bishop._ They did it in hypocrisy.

_Wesley._ You used to tax the poor Independents for judging folks’
hearts. Who doth it now?

_Bishop._ I did not; for they pretended one thing and acted another. Do
not I know them better than _you_?

_Wesley._ I know them by their works, as they have therein delivered us
their hearts.

_Bishop._ Well, then, you will justify your preaching, will you, without
ordination according to the law?

_Wesley._ All these things laid together are satisfactory to me, for my
procedure therein.

_Bishop._ They are not enough.

_Wesley._ There has been more written in proof of preaching of gifted
persons, with such approbation, than has been answered by any one yet.

_Bishop._ Have you anything more to say to me, Mr Wesley?

_Wesley._ Nothing. Your lordship sent for me.

_Bishop._ I am glad I heard this from your own mouth. You will stand to
your principles, you say?

_Wesley._ I intend it, through the grace of God; and to be faithful to
the king’s majesty, however you deal with me.

_Bishop._ I will not meddle with you.

_Wesley._ Farewell to you, sir.

_Bishop._ Farewell, good Mr Wesley.

This is a long conversation, but it is instructive and useful, (1.) as
casting light upon Church and State affairs, immediately after the
restoration of Charles; and (2.) as furnishing several interesting facts
in the history of Samuel Wesley’s father. Passing over the first, we
learn that John Wesley, like his grandson of the same name, was a man of
sound sense and pluck. He adhered to the parliament and to the
Commonwealth to the last moment; but when he saw that the Commonwealth
was doomed, and that the nation was resolved to restore the Monarchy,
like a man of sense, he laid aside his sword and quietly submitted. His
continued firm adherence to the cause of the Commonwealth—“to the last
gasp,” as the bishop put it—brought him into trouble after the king’s
return; but royal clemency was properly exercised towards him, and there
was an end of the affair. He had preferred another kind of government;
but now that Charles, by the voice of the nation, was seated upon the
throne, Wesley took the oath of allegiance, and faithfully kept it.

It is further evident, from the foregoing conversation, that John Wesley
was never episcopally ordained. From his infancy, he was devoted, by his
God-fearing father, to the work of the ministry, and was educated in
reference thereto, both at school and at college. After leaving the
university, he became a private member of the church at Melcombe.
Authorised by the voice of that church, he began to preach at Melcombe,
Radipole, Turnworth, Whitchurch, and other places. By the bishop’s own
admission, he was a man of “gifts.” His preaching was the means of
converting sinners in every place in which it was exercised. Just at
this juncture, Mr Walton, who had been vicar of the parish of
Winterborn-Whitchurch for fifty-six years, died. Several able ministers,
and judicious Christians, thought young Wesley to be a suitable
successor. The trustees, in whom the presentation was vested, offered
him the living. Cromwell’s Triers, after having examined him as to his
fitness for the ministerial work, gave him their certificate of
approval. And then, as the last step previous to his induction—instead
of ordination by bishops or by presbyters—the church of which he was a
private member set apart a day for fasting and prayer, to seek an
abundant blessing on his labours. Thus qualified, called, and
commissioned, the young evangelist, at the age of twenty-two, entered
upon his ministerial charge; and, laying aside the Liturgy, which had
probably been used by the previous vicar during his long ministry of
fifty-six years, he introduced the Presbyterian, or the Independent,
form of worship, and thereby involved himself in trouble. Some of the
parishioners—as Sir Gerrard Napper, Mr Freak, and Mr Tregonnel—disliked
the change; and, as soon as a bishop was appointed after the
Restoration, they lodged a complaint against their young minister. It is
extremely doubtful whether the bishop at that time—1661—had authority to
interfere in a case like Wesley’s; but he wished to see him; and,
accordingly, knowing that there was no violation of law in his
abandonment of the Liturgy during the last three years, Wesley, with a
fearless heart and unflinching face, sought the bishop’s presence, and
held the characteristic conversation already given.

It is somewhat difficult to determine what Wesley means by his “gathered
church,” and by its members not being fit for him “to exercise
_office-work_ among them.” The probability is, that at the death of old
Mr Walton there were no really converted persons in the parish, and,
therefore, none whom Wesley deemed to be fit and proper persons to
receive the sacrament. His endeavour, for the past three years, had been
to get the people converted, and, to some extent, he had succeeded; but
still, he even yet scarce considered his new converts, the members of
his gathered church, sufficiently instructed and established to justify
him in his exercising “office-work” among them; or, in other words, to
justify him in administrating to them the sacrament of the Lord’s
Supper. If this is not the meaning of this technical and obscure
verbiage, the reader, so far as the writer is concerned, must be content
to remain in ignorance.

Wesley’s conversation with Bishop Ironside occurred sometime during the
year 1661. About the same period he was arrested, on the Lord’s-day, as
he was coming out of church, and was carried to Blandford, where he was
committed to prison. The reason of this arrest was exactly the same as
that which brought him before the Bishop of Bristol. He would not use
the Liturgy. His enemies had accused him to the bishop, but without
effect, for the bishop as yet was really without jurisdiction. King
Charles had appointed bishops to several dioceses, and the Liturgy had
been introduced into those churches, where the ministers were avowedly
Episcopalians; but it was not until the month of November 1661, that the
prayer-book was revised by Convocation; and it was not until August
1662, that the use of it was made binding. It is true that, during the
summer of 1660, a bill had been passed by parliament giving power to
expel from church livings every incumbent that had not been ordained by
an ecclesiastic; and by this act, John Wesley might have been expelled
from the living of Winterborn, Whitchurch. But this was not the ground
taken by Sir Gerrard Napper and the other parishioners who were inimical
to his person and ministry. Probably they were not aware, or were not in
a position to prove, that he had not received ordination; and hence
their illegal plot to imprison and expel him, because, in conducting
divine service in his church, he persisted in his refusal to use the
Book of Common Prayer.

It was within two years after the restoration of Charles II. that Wesley
was arrested and committed to Blandford gaol on such a charge. Sir
Gerrard Napper had been his most furious enemy, and the most forward in
committing him; but after Wesley had lain in prison for a length of
time, Sir Gerrard broke his collar bone, and, perhaps thinking that the
disaster had happened as a judgment upon him for his cruelty to the
young minister, he requested some of his friends to bail him, and told
them, that if they refused, he would give bail himself. At length, by an
order of the Privy Council, dated July 24, 1661, it was directed that he
should be discharged from his then imprisonment, upon taking the oaths
of supremacy and allegiance. He was taken accordingly before a
magistrate, who, for some reason, declined administering the oaths, but
issued a warrant, dated July 29, 1661, commanding him to appear before
the judges of the assizes, to be holden at Dorchester, the 1st of August
following.

He has recorded in his diary the goodness of God in inclining a
solicitor to plead for him, and in restraining the wrath of man, so that
even the judge, though a man of sharp temper, spoke not an angry word.
The sum of the proceedings, as given in his diary, is as follows:—

_Clerk._ Call Mr Wesley of Whitchurch.

_Wesley._ Here.

_Clerk._ You were indicted for not reading the common prayer. Will you
traverse it?

_Solicitor._ May it please your lordship, we desire this business may be
deferred till next assizes.

_Judge._ Why till then?

_Solicitor._ Our witnesses are not ready at present.

_Judge._ Why not ready now? Why have you not prepared for a trial?[10]

-----

Footnote 10:

  It will be seen, from the above dates, that two days only elapsed
  between the issuing of the warrant against John Wesley and the
  commencement of the assizes. No wonder that he was not prepared for
  trial.

-----

_Solicitor._ We thought our prosecutors would not appear.

_Judge._ Why so, young man? Why should you think so? Why did you not
provide them?

_Wesley._ May it please your lordship, I understand not the question.

_Judge._ Why will you not read the Book of Common Prayer?

_Wesley._ The book was never tendered to me.

_Judge._ Must the book be tendered to you?

_Wesley._ So I conceive by the act.

_Judge._ Are you ordained?

_Wesley._ I am ordained to preach the gospel.

_Judge._ From whom?

_Wesley._ I have given an account thereof already to the bishop.

_Judge._ What bishop?

_Wesley._ The Bishop of Bristol.

_Judge._ I say, by whom were you ordained? How long is it since?

_Wesley._ Four or five years since.

_Judge._ By whom then?

_Wesley._ By those who were then empowered.

_Judge._ I thought so. Have you a presentation to your place?

_Wesley._ I have.

_Judge._ From whom?

_Wesley._ May it please your lordship, it is a legal presentation.

_Judge._ By whom was it?

_Wesley._ By the trustees.

_Judge._ Have you brought it?

_Wesley._ I have not.

_Judge._ Why not?

_Wesley._ Because, I did not think I should be asked any such questions
here.

_Judge._ I would wish you to read the common prayer at your peril. You
will not say, “From all sedition and privy conspiracy; from all false
doctrines, heresy, and schism. Good Lord, deliver us!”

_Clerk._ Call Mr Meech.

_Meech._ Here.

_Clerk._ Does Mr Wesley read the common prayer yet.

_Meech._ May it please your lordship, he never did, nor he never will.

_Judge._ Friend, how do you know that? He may bethink himself.

_Meech._ He never did; he never will.

_Solicitor._ We will, when we see the new book, either read it, or leave
our place at Bartholomew tide.

_Judge._ Are you not bound to read the old book till then? Let us see
the act.

The act was handed to the judge, and while he was reading it, another
cause was called; and John Wesley was bound over to the next assizes. He
came joyfully home, and preached each Lord’s-day, till August 17, 1662,
when he delivered his farewell sermon to a weeping audience, from Acts
xx. 32; “And now, brethren, I commend you to God, and the word of his
grace.”

Such is the account given by Dr A. Clarke; an account taken, in
substance, from Calamy. Some of the dates are perplexing and doubtful.
Clarke states that this odd sort of assize trial took place in August
1661; and yet from the last remark of the Solicitor,—“When we see the
new book we will either read it, or leave our place at Bartholomew
tide,” it is clear that the “new book” was, to say the least, already
sanctioned; and that the Act of Uniformity was already passed, fixing
Bartholomew tide as the time when every possessor of a church living
must either use the “new Book” of Common Prayer, or be ejected from his
church. Admit this, and then it is undeniable that Wesley was tried at
the assizes, not in 1661, but in 1662; inasmuch as the “new book” was
not prepared by Convocation before November 1661; and the Act of
Uniformity, making the use of it binding, was not passed before the 19th
of May 1662.[11] John Wesley was kept in prison up to within a month of
the mournful 24th of August, when he and two thousand more were
ruthlessly ejected from their churches and their homes. At the very
utmost, he would not have the opportunity of preaching on more than
three Sundays in his church, before Sir Gerrard Napper and his other
enemies had their wishes gratified, by seeing him finally expelled.
There are some other difficulties in the account given by Calamy and
Clarke; but, in a life like this, they are scarcely worth noticing.

-----

Footnote 11:

  Calamy says Wesley was arrested in the beginning of 1662.

-----

Little more remains to be said concerning Samuel Wesley’s father. Where
he spent the first six months after his ejectment from his benefice, we
have no means of knowing. Probably, however, he remained in the same
village, where he had spent the last four years, inasmuch as it was here
that his son Samuel was born, only four months after the youthful
minister and his wife were cast out of their vicarage.

On February 22, 1663, when Samuel Wesley was only nine weeks old, his
father and his mother removed to Melcombe. Before their arrival, their
old enemy, Sir Gerrard Napper, and seven other magistrates, by some
stretch of authority, had turned out of office the mayor and aldermen of
the borough, and had put into their place others more subservient to
their will. Accordingly, when young Wesley and his wife, with their
infant child, reached Melcombe, they found that the new corporation had
made an order against their settlement in the town; and that if they
persisted in settling there, a fine of £20 was to be levied upon the
owner of the house in which they lived, and five shillings per week upon
themselves. Wesley waited upon the mayor and some others, pleading that
he had lived in Melcombe previously; and offering to give security for
his proper behaviour; but all was of no avail, for, a few days
afterwards, another order was drawn up for putting the former one into
execution.

These violent proceedings drove John Wesley and his family from the
town, where, a few years before, he had lived beloved by all who knew
him. He now went to Ilminster, Bridgewater, and Taunton, in all of which
places, the Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists, treated him with
great kindness, and where he preached almost every day.

The author of “Joseph Alleine: his Companions and Times,” states that,
from the 11th of March 1663 to the beginning of May in that year, John
Wesley was the “enthusiastic fellow-labourer” of Joseph Alleine. Mr
Sandford adds—“He” (Wesley) “preached almost every day, dividing his
time between Mr Alleine’s people at Taunton and Mr Norman’s at
Bridgewater; he also occasionally ministered to congregations of
Baptists and Independents at both places.”

Alleine was one of the two thousand ministers ejected in 1662; but he,
at once, began to preach in his own house, and in surrounding villages
and towns, and generally delivered from seven to fourteen sermons every
week. He knew that, at any moment, he might be dragged to prison, and
this made him all the more diligent and earnest in improving the time he
had.

Mr Norman, mentioned above, was another of the ejected ministers. He had
good natural abilities, and a considerable stock of learning, and was an
acceptable preacher. With Alleine, and many others, he was sent to
prison for venturing to preach the gospel of his Lord and Master.
“Sirrah,” said Judge Foster, when Norman was arraigned before him in
1663, “Sirrah, do you preach?” “Yes, my lord,” said Norman. “And why so,
sirrah?” “Because I was ordained to preach.” “How was you ordained?” “In
the same way as Timothy.” “And how was that?” “By the laying on of the
hands of the Presbytery.” Norman was sentenced to pay a fine of £100,
and to lie in prison till the fine was paid. As he was being taken to
Ilchester Gaol, the officers called at the house of the High Sheriff.
“Where is now your God?” tauntingly asked the Sheriff’s wife. “Have you
a Bible?” asked Norman. “Yes,” said she. “Bring it,” said Norman. Being
brought he read Micah vii. 8, 9, 10. The poor woman seemed to be
paralysed with fear, and immediately retired; and the dealings of God
with the Sheriff’s family, not long after, caused this text to be
remembered.

This happened in the very month that John Wesley left his friends
Alleine and Norman, for before that month of May in 1663 expired, both
Norman and Alleine were confined in Ilchester Gaol. When Alleine started
off to prison, both sides of the streets of Taunton were lined with his
weeping friends, and many followed him several miles on foot, and made
such lamentations after him that they well-nigh broke his heart.
Arriving at the prison gates, and finding the gaoler absent, he took the
opportunity of preaching before he entered. He was clapped up in the
Bridewell chamber, over the common gaol, Where he found his friend
Norman, who had been committed a few days before him. In this low,
miserable garret, these godly companions of John Wesley spent both day
and night for many months. There were imprisoned with them, in the same
room, fifty Quakers, seventeen Baptists, and also thirteen other
ministers, all arrested, like themselves, for the high crimes of
preaching and praying. The atmosphere was stifling. The summer sun
struck fiercely on the roof all day, and so low was the covering of the
building, that at night, when lying on their mattresses, the prisoners
could touch the glowing tiles. Grasping for life, they had sometimes to
break the Windows, or to remove a tile for the purpose of obtaining air.
Night and day they were compelled to listen to the songs, the curses,
and the clanking chains of the felons in the cells below; and if they
ventured out of their deadly vapour-bath into the prison court, they
were met by the sights of the loathsome and pestilential wretchedness of
the criminals that crossed their paths.[12]

-----

Footnote 12:

  Sandford’s _Joseph Alleine_, &c.

-----

It was by a narrow escape that John Wesley was not put into the same
prison as his friends Alleine and Norman.

John Wesley having spent about six weeks at Bridgewater, Taunton, and
Ilminster, a gentleman who had a house at Preston, near Weymouth,
offered to allow him to live in it without paying rent. Thither,
therefore, he removed his young wife and their infant child in the
beginning of May 1663, and thus avoided imprisonment with his friends
whom he left behind. Excepting a temporary absence, shortly to be
noticed, he continued to reside at Preston until his death in 1678.

At one time he strongly wished to go as a missionary to Surinam, a
settlement in Guiana; and at another time, to Maryland, in America—but
in neither instance was his wish accomplished. Probably the advice of
his friends, and the expense of such a journey, presented difficulties
which he found impossible to surmount.

For awhile he seems to have been obliged to give up preaching; and as
there was no public worship except that of the Church of England, in
which the Liturgy was used, he was considerably troubled at being
debarred from joining in sanctuary service; but, by reading Mr Philip
Nye’s “Arguments for the Lawfulness of hearing Ministers of the Church
of England,” his scruples concerning the Liturgy were so far removed
that he was able, with a safe conscience, to attend the church service.

At length he began to preach in private to a few good people in Preston,
and occasionally at Weymouth, and at other places contiguous. After some
time, he had a call from a number of serious Christians at Poole to
become their pastor. He consented, and continued in that capacity while
he lived, administering to them all the ordinances of God as opportunity
offered. In consequence, however, of the Oxford Five Mile Act, passed in
1665, he was often put to great inconvenience. Notwithstanding all his
prudence in managing his meetings, he was frequently disturbed, several
times apprehended, and four times imprisoned—once at Dorchester for
three months, and once at Poole for half a year; and once, at least, he
was obliged to leave his wife, his family, and his flock, and for a
considerable time to hide himself in a place of secrecy. Again and
again, the handful of godly people meeting in the house of Henry
Saunders, mariner, of Melcombe, were arrested for being present at a
conventicle, and were fined, imprisoned, or otherwise punished. Dr
Calamy adds, that John Wesley “was in many straits and difficulties, but
was wonderfully supported and comforted, and was many times very
seasonably and surprisingly relieved and delivered. Nevertheless, the
removal of many eminent Christians into another world, who had been his
intimate acquaintance and kind friends, the great decay of serious
religion among many professors, and the increasing rage of the enemies
of real godliness, manifestly seized on and sunk his spirits; and he
died, when he had not been much longer an inhabitant here below than his
blessed Master was, whom he served with his whole heart, according to
the best light he had.” Application was made to the vicar of Preston to
have him buried in the church; but the application was refused; and, in
the churchyard, no stone tells where his ashes lie, nor is there any
monument to record his worth.

From the concluding sentence of Dr Calamy, it would seem that John
Wesley died about the early age of thirty-three or thirty-four. He left
behind him two sons, Samuel and Matthew, and a faithful wife, who
remained his widow for about half a century.

Limited space forbids further details concerning Samuel Wesley’s father;
in fact, further details do not exist. John Wesley, though young in
years, evinced a mind elevated far above the common level, even of those
who have had the advantages of a collegiate education. He was no
unthinking zealot or timid changeling. He had made himself master of the
controverted points between the Established Church and Dissenters, and
his opinions, being founded upon conviction, were held with the fidelity
of a martyr’s grasp. To say nothing of other facts, his interview with
the Bishop of Bristol displays the same sincere and zealous piety, the
same manly sense, and the same heroic yet respectful boldness, which
distinguished his son Samuel and his grandsons John and Charles in after
years. Dr A. Clarke adds, that from the same conversation the reader may
learn two important facts:—1. That the grandfather of the founder of
Methodism was a lay-preacher. 2. That he was an itinerant evangelist.
Indeed we find in John Wesley’s history an epitome of the Methodism
which sprang up, through the instrumentality of his grandsons John and
Charles; his mode of preaching, matter, manner, and success, bearing a
striking resemblance to theirs and to their coadjutors.

We can only add, that a portrait of John Wesley is published in the
_Methodist Magazine_ for 1840. The hair is long, and parted in the
middle. The forehead is capacious, the nose large, the eyes soft and
sweet, the face without whiskers, and the general expression of the
countenance highly sad and thoughtful.

Before leaving the parentage of Samuel Wesley, a few words must be said
concerning his mother. She was the daughter of one distinguished man and
the niece of another. Her father was the Rev. John White, one of the
three assessors of the Assembly of Divines, and long known as “the
Patriarch of Dorchester;” a man whom Fuller describes as being grave
without being morose, and who, in the course of his ministry, “expounded
the Scriptures all over and half over again;” a man who had the command
of his own passions and of the purses of his parishioners; for he was so
much beloved by his people that, “he could wind them up to what height
be pleased.”

John White was born at Stanton St John, in December 1574. After two
years of probation at Winchester school, he was admitted perpetual
fellow of New College, Oxford, in 1595. Here he took his degrees in
arts, was admitted into holy orders, and became a frequent preacher in
and about Oxford. In 1606, he obtained the rectory of Trinity Church,
Dorchester. About 1624, he and some of his friends projected the new
colony of Massachusetts, in New England, and, after surmounting many
obstacles, secured a patent. The object was to provide an asylum for the
persecuted fugitives, who were not able to conform to the ceremonies and
discipline of the Church of England. White himself had scruples
respecting the worship and proceedings of the same church; and, in 1630,
was prosecuted by Archbishop Laud, in the High Commission Court, for
preaching against Arminianism and the ceremonies. He was also a sufferer
during the civil wars, a party of horse in the neighbourhood of
Dorchester, under the command of Prince Rupert, having plundered his
house and taken away his library. On this occasion, he made his escape
to London, and was appointed minister of the Savoy. In 1640, he was one
of the learned divines directed to assist in “a committee of religion,”
appointed by the House of Lords. In 1643, he was chosen to be one of the
Westminster Assembly of Divines. Two years after, he succeeded the
ejected Dr Featley as rector of Lambeth, and had assigned to him the use
of his predecessor’s library, until his own, carried away by Prince
Rupert’s soldiers, should be returned to him. In 1647, he was offered
the wardenship of New College but refused it, and, as soon as possible,
returned to his old flock at Dorchester, for whom he had the greatest
affection, and where he had passed the happiest of his days. He died
suddenly at Dorchester, July 21, 1648, when John Wesley, who married his
daughter, was only twelve years old. John White was a man of great zeal,
activity, and learning; and even Anthony à Wood allows that he was “a
most moderate Puritan.” By his wisdom the town of Dorchester was greatly
benefited, and, for many years, he exercised a patriarchal influence
among the inhabitants; but, towards the end of his days, factions and
adverse opinions crept in among his flock, and a new race sprung up, who
either knew not or refused to acknowledge the worth of this godly man.
“Of such disrespect,” says Fuller, “he was sadly and silently sensible.”
He married the sister of Dr Burgess, the great Nonconformist, who
afterwards, being reclaimed to the Church of England, wrote in its
defence. The works of John White are—1. “A Commentary upon the First
Three Chapters in Genesis;” 2. “A Way to the Tree of Life, discovered in
sundry Directions for the Profitable Reading of the Scriptures;” 3. “A
Digression concerning the Morality of the Fourth Commandment,” printed
and published with the preceding; 4. A few sermons.

The mother of Samuel Wesley was the daughter of this distinguished man.
Probably she was his youngest child, as there is evidence to show that
she survived her father for more than sixty years.

She was the niece of another man of mark, the celebrated Dr Fuller.
Thomas Fuller was, in many respects, a remarkable character. At the age
of twelve, he was deemed fit for the studies of the university, whither
he was sent accordingly. When he was three-and-twenty he was collated to
a prebend’s stall in Salisbury Cathedral. Soon after this, he became
rector of Broad Windsor, in Dorsetshire. At the age of thirty-three, he
removed to London, where he officiated as lecturer in the Savoy Church
in the Strand. After this, his life was chequered, but his pen was
hardly ever idle. In succession he published his “Pisgah Sight of
Palestine,” “Church History of Britain,” “A Defence of it against Dr
Heylin,” “History of the Holy War,” “History of the Worthies of
England,” all in folio. He was appointed chaplain to Charles II., was
created doctor of divinity, and bid fair to become a bishop, when he was
seized with fever, of which he died in 1661. His funeral was attended by
two hundred of the clergy, showing the high estimation in which he was
held. His writings possess much learning, wit, and humour, with an
elaborate display of quaint conceit, a quality highly thought of at the
time he wrote, and which, in him, appears to have been natural. He was
an almost unequalled punster, but sometimes met his match. Once, when
attempting to play off a joke upon a gentleman, whose name was
Sparrowhawk, he received the following retort:—“What,” said Fuller, who
was very corpulent, “what is the difference between an owl and a
sparrowhawk?” “It is,” replied the other, “_fuller_ in the head,
_fuller_ in the body, and _fuller_ all over.” Thomas Fuller was not only
eminent for his learning, his writings, and his wit, but also for his
prodigious memory. He could repeat five hundred strange and unconnected
words after twice hearing them, and a sermon verbatim after he had heard
it once. He undertook, after passing from Temple Bar to the farthest end
of Cheapside and back again, to mention all the signs over the shop
doors, in regular succession, on both sides of the streets, and to
repeat the names both backwards and forwards; and this almost incredible
task he performed with the utmost exactness.

Such, then, were the father and the uncle of Samuel Wesley’s mother. Of
herself little is known. As already shown, her father died when she was
young. Her uncle died when her husband was suffering imprisonment for
conscience’ sake. Her husband died about the early age of thirty-four,
leaving her nothing but his holy example, his loving prayers, and at
least two young children. How she obtained a living, in the early years
of her widowhood, there is no evidence to show; but, in her later years,
she was obliged to depend on the little help of £10 per annum, which her
son Samuel was accustomed to squeeze out of his sadly too small Epworth
income. The whole of her married life was one continued scene of
persecution; and the forty years of her long and dreary widowhood, was
an unceasing struggle with poverty and its attendant pain. She was alive
in 1710.—See Clarke’s “Wesley Family,” vol. ii. p. 144. Would that we
knew more of her suffering history!

[The facts in this chapter have been collected from Beal’s _Fathers of
the Wesley Family_, Clarendon’s _History of the Rebellion_, Anthony
Wood’s _Athenæ Oxoniensis_, Orme’s _Life of Dr John Owen_, Chalmers’s
_General Biographical Dictionary_, Fuller’s _Worthies of England_; and
also from other books and tracts mentioned in the chapter itself.]




                              CHAPTER III.
                         SCHOOL DAYS—1662–1683.


Samuel Wesley was born at Winterborn-Whitchurch, at the close of the
year 1662. He was educated at the Free School, at Dorchester, by Mr
Henry Dolling, to whom, out of respect, he dedicated the first work that
he published.[13] Dorchester Free School was built by Edward Hardy, of
Wyke, near Weymouth, about the year 1579. Young Wesley remained here
until he was a little more than fifteen years of age, when he was sent
to an academy in London. He continued in London until August 1683, when
he had nearly arrived at the age of twenty-one.

-----

Footnote 13:

  Mr Dolling became master of Dorchester School in 1664, and held the
  office until 1675. He was LL.B of Wadham College, Oxford; and
  translated “The Whole Duty of Man” into Latin. The work, a copy of
  which is in the Dorchester School Library, was licensed in
  1678.—HUTCHIN’S _History of Dorsetshire_.

-----

Perhaps there is no period in English history more pregnant with painful
interest than the first twenty-one years of Samuel Wesley’s life. He
came into the world four months after that dark day of St Bartholomew,
when his father, and his grandfather, and more than two thousand other
godly ministers of Christ, were ejected from their churches, and driven
from their homes. When he was yet a child, the great plague of London
swept away one hundred thousand of its inhabitants; and the great fire
made nearly the whole city a sightless heap of cinders, from the Tower
to Temple Bar. Taking advantage of the confusion produced by these
terrible events, the Covenanters in the West of Scotland rose up, and
demanded redress of their grievances, and the removal of Episcopacy.
Archbishop Sharp, exchanging the crosier for the sword, took the field
against them. Forty were killed on Pentland Hills, and one hundred and
thirty taken prisoners. Ten were hanged in Edinburgh upon one gibbet,
and thirty-five more were sent back to the west of Scotland, and there
hanged, in front of their own dwellings, the ministers of the
Established Church declaring them damned to all eternity for their
rebellion, and the archbishop employing his Episcopal genius in the
invention of a new infernal instrument of torture, and spending his
hours out of the sacred pulpit, not so much in sacred exercises as in
studying how to make “the boots” excruciate the surviving associates of
those executed men. Clarendon, who had much to do with the passing of
the Act of Uniformity, was now deprived of the great seal, was accused
of treason, and obliged to flee to France for safety. Sir Matthew Hale,
Bishop Wilkins, and others, made an effort to have the Presbyterians
comprehended in the Established Church, and to secure toleration for all
the other dissenting sects; but the orthodoxy of parliament was as
intolerant as ever, and it was a common saying at the time, that whoever
proposed new laws about religion ought to do it with a rope round his
neck. The bishops and High Churchmen continued to preach the divine
right of kings and passive obedience, and the court plunged more deeply
than ever into debauchery and sin.

In 1668, the Puritans and apprentices about Moorfields took the liberty
to pull down a number of brothels, and then to say, with some
significance, that having demolished the little ones they ought not to
spare the great one at Whitehall. Colonel Blood, the villainous
desperado, after nearly murdering Lord Ormond, and after stealing the
crown of England from the Tower, was not only pardoned, but admitted
into the privacy and intimacy of the court, became a personal favourite
of the king, was constantly seen about the palace, and had granted to
him, for his base and bloody deeds, an estate in Ireland, worth £500
a-year. In 1673 the Test Act was passed, which provided that all who
refused to take the oaths, and to receive the sacrament, according to
the rites of the Church of England, should be debarred from public
employment. In 1677, Charles not only permitted his nephew, the Prince
of Orange, to come to England, but hastily made up a marriage between
the prince and his niece, Mary, the elder daughter of James, the Duke of
York, by Anne Hyde,—Charles alleging that this measure was forced upon
him by the jealous fears of the nation, particularly since the Duke of
York had declared himself a Papist.

In 1678, the year in which Samuel Wesley was sent to school in London,
the popish plot of Titus Oates was developed. Titus was the son of an
Anabaptist ribbon weaver. After acting as chaplain to one of Cromwell’s
regiments in Scotland, he took orders in the Church of England, and
obtained the living of Hastings in Sussex.[14] Whilst discharging his
sacred duties, he was twice convicted of perjury. He was then appointed
chaplain on board a man-of-war, but was dismissed with added infamy. Two
years before the development of his plot, he was admitted into the
service of the popish Duke of Norfolk, and suddenly became a Papist. He
was now sent to a Jesuits’ College in Spain, from which, in a short
time, he was disgracefully expelled. He recrossed the Pyrenees, and
presented himself, as a mendicant, at the gate of the Jesuit College, at
St Omar. Here, for a while, he lived among the students and novices, and
was then cast out with shame, and was obliged to return to England
without cassock and without coat. It so happened that, just at this
juncture, Dr Tonge, rector of St Michael’s, in Wood Street, London, was
a great Protestant alarmist. Titus obtained access to him, worked upon
his fears, and, by his means, was brought before the Privy Council.
Here, in a new suit of clothes and a sacerdotal gown, he alleged that,
by the authority of the pope, a number of Jesuits were plotting the
murder of the king, and of his brother James, the Duke of York; that
these Jesuits had £60,000 a-year at their command, to assist in carrying
out their murderous intentions; that repeated commissions had been given
to shoot the king, and that the queen’s physician had been urged to
poison him; that a wager had been laid that the king should eat no more
Christmas pies, and that if he would not become R. C. (Rex Catholicus)
he should no longer be C. R. (Charles Rex;) that the Jesuits had been
the authors of the great fire in London, and were now concocting a plan
for the burning of Westminster, Wapping, and all the ships upon the
river; and that, with the full expectation that all these things would
be done, the pope had already, by a secret bull, filled up all the
bishoprics, and had made appointments to most of the high offices of
state.

-----

Footnote 14:

  Dryden’s _Miscellaneous Works_, vol. i. notes, p. 54. 1760.

-----

The Privy Council heard these statements of Titus Oates with
astonishment. Meanwhile, Sir Edmondbury Godfrey, who had taken Oates’
depositions, suddenly disappeared from his house in Westminster, and was
found brutally murdered in a ditch near Primrose Hill. The ghastly body
was exhibited to many thousands, who shuddered and wept at the sight of
one whom they deemed to be a Protestant martyr. The funeral was attended
by an immense procession, having at its head seventy Protestant divines,
in full canonicals. The panic spread, and Protestants, of all classes,
conformists and non-conformists, royalists and republicans, considered
their lives in danger. Titus Oates was summoned before parliament. Lord
Stafford and four other Catholic lords were committed to the Tower.
Common prisons were crammed with Papists. The House declared “that there
hath been, and still is, a damnable and hellish plot, contrived and
carried on by the popish recusants, for assassinating the king, for
subverting the government, and for destroying the Protestant religion.”
Titus Oates was proclaimed the saviour of the nation, and had a pension
awarded of £1200 a-year. Charles yielded to the storm of agitation, and
Catholics were expelled from their seats in both Houses of
Parliament,—seats which were not regained, by their successors, for one
hundred and fifty years afterwards, until 1829. Titus Oates went further
still, and even accused the Queen of England, at the bar of the House of
Commons, of high treason, declaring that he himself had heard her say,
“I will no longer suffer such indignities to my bed; I am content to
join in procuring his death, and in the propagation of the Catholic
faith.” This accusation, however, was allowed to drop; but Stayley, the
banker, Father Ireland, the Jesuit, and five other persons, were tried
and convicted, and then executed at Tyburn for their complicity with the
alleged popish plot.

Space forbids further details, except to add, that as soon as King James
ascended the throne, Titus Oates was thrown into prison, and was tried
for perjury in reference to his assertions respecting the popish
conspiracy. He was found guilty, and was sentenced to be stripped of his
clerical habit, to be pilloried in Palace Yard, to be led round
Westminster Hall, with an inscription over his head declaring his
infamy, to be pilloried again in front of the Royal Exchange, to be
whipped from Aldgate to Newgate, and, after an interval of two days,
from Newgate to Tyburn. If he survived this horrible infliction, he was
to be kept close prisoner for life, and, five times a-year, he was to be
brought forth from his dungeon, and exposed in the pillory in different
parts of London.

The whipping, says Neal, was inflicted with a severity unknown to the
English nation. Dr Calamy tells us that he saw Oates at the cart-tail
from Newgate to Tyburn, and that his back, fearfully swollen with the
first whipping, looked as if it had been flayed. He adds: “Oates was a
man of invincible courage, and endured what would have killed a great
many others; and yet, after all, he was but a sorry, foul-mouthed
wretch.” Macaulay says: “Whilst he was being whipped from Aldgate to
Newgate, the blood ran down in rivulets, and his bellowings were
frightful to hear. When brought out again, to be whipped from Newgate to
Tyburn, it was necessary to drag him to Tyburn on a sledge. A person who
counted the stripes on this second day, said that they were seventeen
hundred.” The whipping was so terribly cruel, that it was evidently the
intention of the court to kill him; but, by the care of his friends, he
recovered. During many months, he remained ironed in the darkest hole in
Newgate, sitting whole days, uttering deep groans, with his arms folded,
and his hat over his eyes. He lived to the reign of King William, when a
pension of about £300 a-year was settled on him,—a sum which he thought
unworthy his acceptance, but which he took with the savage snarl of
disappointed greediness. About the year 1698, he was restored to his
place among the Baptists; but, in a few months, was ejected from their
communion as a disorderly person and a hypocrite. He died in 1705.

But to return. Such was the excitement created by Oates’s allegations,
that, in 1679, one of the first acts of the House of Commons was to pass
a resolution, “that the Duke of York, being a Papist, and the hopes of
his coming such to the crown, had given the greatest countenance to the
present conspiracies and designs against the king and the Protestant
religion.” The House also voted an address to the king, requesting him
to banish all Papists in London twenty miles from its borders, and to
put all sea-ports, fortresses, and ships into trusty hands. In the
meantime, Charles induced his unpopular popish brother to retire to
Brussels; but, before he went, James exacted from the king a formal
declaration that the young Duke of Monmouth was illegitimate. The
Commons, not satisfied with what they had already done, proceeded with
their famous Bill of Exclusion, by which the crown of England was to
pass from Charles to the next _Protestant_ heir, as if the Duke of York
were dead. This bill was read a second time, when Charles suddenly
dissolved parliament.

Whilst all this was going on in England, exciting events were occurring
in Scotland. There, dragoons were dispersing field-meetings, and many a
moor was made wet with the blood of Covenanters. At one field
conventicle, upwards of one hundred men were killed in cold blood.
Balfour had mortally wounded Archbishop Sharp; and Russell had finished
the work by hacking his skull to pieces; while the rest of their
companions retired to a cottage on the moor, and spent the remainder of
the day in thanksgiving to Almighty God for the accomplishment of a work
so glorious. The Duke of Monmouth was sent, with five thousand troops,
to put an end to a state of things like this; and the battle of Bothwell
Bridge was fought. Then James, Duke of York, succeeded him, and
exercised the functions of a Viceroy, under the title of “King’s
Commissioner.”

Shortly after the battle of Bothwell Bridge, a band of the most
enthusiastic of the Covenanters rallied round a man called Cameron, a
preacher, from whom they derived the name of Cameronians. Cameron
affixed to the market-cross of Sanquhar “A Declaration and Testimony of
the true Presbyterian, anti-prelatic, anti-erastian, and persecuted
party of Scotland.” In this document, he renounced and disowned Charles
Stuart, and declared war against him as a tyrant and usurper. Cameron,
with a mere handful of men, was surprised by three troops of dragoons,
and, with his brother and ten of his followers, died fighting. A few
escaped with Cargill, another preacher, who, at Torwood, pronounced
excommunication against Charles II., king of Scotland, for his mocking
of God, his perjury, adultery, incest, drunkenness, and dissembling with
both God and man. Cargill was taken prisoner on July 26, 1681, and, with
four of his followers, was the next day hanged. Farther proceedings
followed. Lord Belhaven was imprisoned; and the Earl of Argyle was
committed on the charge of treason, but escaped from a murderous death
by escaping from his dungeon. Covenanters, Cameronians, and all who were
suspected of associating with them, or of rendering them merciful
assistance in their hour of need, were punished. Courts of judicature,
with their “boots” and other instruments of torture, were set up, both
in the south and west of Scotland. Above two thousand persons were
outlawed; and the soldiers were authorised to shoot all delinquents
refusing to renounce Cameron’s and Cargill’s declarations. Thousands of
Presbyterians, who had taken no part with these desperate enthusiasts,
began to think of emigrating to America.

In June 1683, the famous Rye-House Plot against Charles’s life was
unfolded. The Duke of Monmouth immediately absconded, showing a delicate
regard for his own safety, and a cowardly disregard for the safety of
his friends. William Lord Russell was committed to the Tower. Howard,
his relative, was discovered hidden in a chimney; was taken in his
shirt, and carried before the Council; where the kneeling, puling,
sobbing caitiff made such confessions as led to the immediate arrest of
the Earl of Essex, Algernon Sydney, and Hampden, who were sent to join
Lord Russell in the Tower. Many others, Scots as well as English, were
arrested, and were true, to the edge of the axe, to their friends and
party. When Baillie, of Jerviswoode, was offered his life if he would
turn evidence, the proud Scot smiled, and said, “They who make such a
proposal know neither me nor my country.” The steps taken by the
authorities produced a different effect upon others. The magistrates of
London and of Middlesex were terrified into loyalty, and presented
petitions, praying for the suppression of dissenting conventicles; for
justice upon “atheistical persons, rebellious spirits, infamous
miscreants, and monsters;” and for the condign punishment of those
“execrable villains and traitors” convicted of a design against his
Majesty’s precious life. A month after his arrest, Lord Russell was
brought to trial; and, on the same day, the Earl of Essex either
committed suicide, or was murdered by the procurement of the king and
the Duke of York. The base Howard was the principal witness against
Russell. The Earl of Bedford offered to the king £100,000, if he would
release his son; but Charles replied, “If I do not take his life, he
will soon take mine.” And, accordingly, on July 21, attended by
Tillotson and Burnett, the unfortunate Russell was led to Lincoln’s Inn
Fields, and was beheaded. On the same day, the University of Oxford
published its decree in support of passive obedience, or the right of
kings to govern wrong, without resistance or challenge from their
suffering subjects. Seven weeks after, Algernon Sydney was brought to
trial before Judge Jeffries, the legal bravo, who was as bold with his
law books as Charles’s other personal favourite, Colonel Blood, was with
pistols, daggers, and dark lanterns. Lord Howard was again the chief
witness; and Sydney, on the 8th of December, was decapitated on Tower
Hill.

This brings us down to the time when Samuel Wesley’s school days ended;
and, with this brief survey of the reign of Charles II., we must content
ourselves, only adding a few remarks respecting the morals of this
disgraceful period of English history.

The Restoration brought with it a tide, not only of levity, but of
licentiousness;—an inundation of all the debaucheries of the French
court, in which Charles and his followers had chiefly spent their exile.
The passions and tastes of the people, which, under the rule of the
Puritans, had been sternly repressed, and, if gratified at all, had been
gratified by stealth, now broke forth with ungovernable violence; and,
as soon as the check was withdrawn, men flew to frivolous amusements,
and to criminal pleasures, with the greediness which long and enforced
abstinence naturally produces. Little restraint was imposed by public
opinion; and there was no excess which was not encouraged by the
ostentatious profligacy of Charles, and of his favourite courtiers. It
is an unquestionable, and a most instructive fact, that the years during
which the political power of the Anglican hierarchy was in the zenith,
were precisely the years during which national virtue was at the lowest
point.[15]

-----

Footnote 15:

  Macaulay.

-----

Swearing and profligate conversation were now so prevalent, that a young
nobleman or man of family, was accounted no gentleman, that allowed two
hours to pass in company without inventing some new modish oath, or
without laughing at the fopperies of priests, or without making lampoons
and drolleries on the Holy Bible. In the highest ranks, talent was
employed in bedizening the carrion carcase, and rouging the yellow
cheeks of the foul goddess of wantonness. Worthless actresses, and royal
and noble concubines, became the patronesses, and even the wives of the
highest nobility. Gaming was a fashionable phrenzy, and a noble house
was incomplete without a basset-table. Court ladies became so equivocal
in character, that few cared to venture the selection of a wife from
among them. Mrs Jenyngs, a maid of honour, afterwards Duchess of
Tyrconnel, dressed herself like an orange wench, and cried oranges about
the streets. Gentlemen arrayed themselves like ladies, and ladies
disguised themselves like gentlemen, Duelling was of daily occurrence.
Members of Parliament adjourned to refresh themselves at taverns, from
which they returned half drunk to finish their senatorial discussions.
Younger sons of good families, heirs of wealthy citizens, and raw young
country squires huzzaed for the king, and then broke the king’s peace,
to show their love for him; scoured the streets in nocturnal bands;
stormed taverns; broke windows; wrenched off door-knockers; daubed and
defaced tradesmen’s signs; routed apple-merchants, fishmongers, and
butter-women; attacked and knocked down all chance passengers; and
generally ended by a conflict with the watch. Gallantry was general,
from the half-fledged stripling fresh from the teacher’s rod, to the
hoary-headed veteran, whose dim eyes could scarcely see the charms with
which his heart was smitten. Foppery in dress resulted, and gallants
endeavoured to make themselves irresistible by the newest cut of a
French suit, or an enormous fleece of periwig.

Still, amid all this profligate frivolity of the higher classes, the
bulk of the community retained much of the old English spirit. Many
still adhered to the primitive hours of their forefathers for going to
bed, getting up, and transacting business. In diet, notwithstanding the
French cookery that had become prevalent, they stoutly stood by old
English fare. The people, also, were intensely musical, and almost every
person of education could sing by the scale, and play upon some kind of
instrument. These were days, when the banks of the Thames were as
melodious as the shores of the Adriatic. In the country, the baronial
table was still heart of oak, and was laden with the old festive
hospitality. Huge sirloins and mighty plum-puddings seemed to laugh to
scorn the continental innovations that had become so fashionable in the
capital. Country squires gave landlord-feasts to their tenants; while
farmers gave harvest-homes and sheep-shearings to their labourers.
Swimming, foot-racing, skating, horse-racing, bear and bull-baiting,
tennis, and bowls were the people’s favourite out-door sports; whilst
cards, billiards, chess, backgammon, cribbage, and ninepins, furnished
amusement within. On Valentine’s day, gentlemen sent presents of gloves,
silk stockings and garters, to their fair valentines; and, on the
morning of May-day, young ladies, and even grave matrons, repaired to
the bright green fields to gather dew to beautify their complexions;
while milk-maids danced in the public streets, their milk-pails wreathed
with garlands, and a fiddler playing tunes before them.

The age was light-hearted, frivolous, and wicked; and yet there
flourished in it some of the greatest men that England has ever had.
Abraham Cowley, replete with learning, was embellishing his poetic pages
with all the ornaments that books could furnish him. Samuel Butler,
marvellously acquainted with human life, was furnishing, in the grossly
familiar versification of his “Hudibras,” sententious distiches and
proverbial axioms for the use of future generations. Edmund Waller was
honoured as the most elegant and harmonious versifier of his time.
Dryden’s prolific, but extremely licentious pen, displayed a versatility
of talent almost without parallel. Otway wrote some of the most pathetic
tragedies in the English language, and terminated a miserable life at
the early age of thirty-four. Ralph Cudworth was employing his extensive
learning and profound philosophy in the production of his “True
Intellectual System of the Universe.” Henry More was weeping over the
miseries of his country, and studying how to check the Atheism of Thomas
Hobbes. Isaac Barrow was labouring for words to express the amplitude
and energy of his thoughts, often preaching sermons three hours long,
and immoderately using tobacco as his “panpharmacon” to compose and
regulate his mind. John Bunyan was preaching his wondrous sermons when
out of prison; and, when in it, making tagged laces for a livelihood,
and writing his “Pilgrim’s Progress.” Peter Lely was commanding
admiration and acquiring a fortune by his portrait-painting; and
Christopher Wren, a great philosopher, and one of the most eminent of
architects, was drawing plans for rebuilding London and St Paul’s
Cathedral.

It was amid such events, in the midst of such profligacy, and surrounded
by such men, that Samuel Wesley spent his school-days’ life.

Young Wesley remained at the Free School, Dorchester, until he was
fifteen years of age. For some time past, his father had been dead. His
mother was a widow, and was poor. The boy, as he himself tells us, “was
almost fit for the university,” but the difficulty was to find means to
send him there. Like his father, and his two grandfathers, he was
evidently intended for the Christian ministry; but, considering the
treatment which all the three had experienced at the hands of the
Episcopal party, it is scarcely probable that their youthful descendant
would, at this early period of, his history, feel a wish to enter the
ministry of the Established Church. His father and his grandfathers,
though they had all been the occupants of Church livings, were, so far
as Episcopacy and the use of the Liturgy are concerned, Dissenters; and
there can be no question, that, as a boy fifteen years of age, his
sympathies were with them.

But, had it been otherwise, there was little prospect of a youth like
him being able to become a minister of the Established Church. To become
such, he must receive Episcopal ordination; and to receive that, he must
go to the university: but to go there was impossible, for he was without
money, and was without Episcopal friends to send him.

His Dissenting friends showed him kindness. Without any application
being made to them, either by his mother or by himself, they sent him,
at their own cost, to London, for the purpose of being entered at one of
their private academies, and of being trained for the Dissenting
ministry. He tells us that Dr G. had the care of one of the most
considerable of these seminaries, and had promised him tuition; but, on
his arrival in London on the 8th of March 1678, he found that Dr G. was
just deceased, and so his hope for a time was thwarted.

He was now sent to a grammar-school, where his progress was such, that
the master wished him to proceed to the university, and actually
promised him a handsome subsistence there. At this crisis, his
Dissenting friends again came forward. He was a youth of promise; and,
for their own sake, as well as out of respect for his dead father, they
were unwilling to have him wrested from them.

At this time, a fund existed, raised by the collections and
subscriptions of a certain Dissenting congregation, for the purpose of
meeting cases like that of young Wesley. Out of this fund, he was
granted an exhibition of £30 a year; and was sent to Mr Veal’s academy
at Stepney. Wesley says that his relatives considered the offer of the
Dissenters to possess greater advantages than the offer which was made
to him by the master of the grammar-school to send him to the
university, but in what respect it was considered more advantageous we
are left to guess.

Edward Veal, the principal of the Stepney Academy, was, in the first
instance, a student of Christ’s Church College, Oxford, and afterwards
of Trinity College, Dublin. He was ordained at Winwick, in Lancashire,
August 14, 1657. When he left Ireland, he brought with him a testimonial
of his being “a learned, orthodox minister, of a sober, pious, and
peaceable conversation; who, during his abode in the college, was
eminently useful for the instruction of youth, and whose ministry had
been often exercised in and about the city of Dublin with great
satisfaction to the godly, until he was deprived of his fellowship for
nonconformity to the ceremonies imposed in the Church, and for joining
with other ministers in their endeavours for a reformation.” This
testimonial was signed by seven respectable ministers, one of whom was
the celebrated Stephen Charnock, at that time exercising his ministry in
Dublin, and residing in the house of Sir Harry Cromwell. On leaving
Ireland, Edward Veal became chaplain to Sir William Waller, in
Middlesex, and afterwards settled as a Nonconformist minister at
Wapping, and likewise opened the academy at Stepney. He died June 6,
1708, aged seventy-six. Four of his sermons are published in the
“Morning Exercises.” Dunton says he “was an universal scholar, and a man
of great piety and usefulness. His principles were very moderate. He
assisted in preparing for the press the posthumous works of Stephen
Charnock;” and wrote the annotations on the Epistle to the Ephesians,
published in the Commentary of Matthew Poole.

Samuel Wesley was a student in Mr Veal’s academy for about the space of
two years, during which his tutor read to him a course of lectures on
Logic and Ethics. He was now eighteen years of age; and, as he himself
tells us, “was a dabbler in rhyme and faction, and had already printed
several things with the Party’s” (the Dissenters) “imprimateur.” His
patrons were evidently satisfied with his behaviour and his progress,
for, before the two years spent at Veal’s academy had expired, he
received an additional bonus of £10 per annum from the hands of Dr
O(wen,) who encouraged him in the prosecution of his studies, and
advised him to have a particular regard to critical learning.

Mr Veal was so annoyed and prosecuted by the neighbouring magistrates
that he broke up his academy, and relinquished the office of a tutor. In
consequence of this, young Wesley was again cast afloat, and he was now
recommended to the academy of Mr Charles Morton, of Newington Green,
where he remained until the summer of 1683.

Charles Morton, M.A., of Wadham College, Oxford, was a descendant from
an ancient family at Morton, in Nottinghamshire, the seat of T. Morton,
secretary to King Edward III. He was born about the year 1626. His
father was rector of Pendavy, (Pendene-Vau?) in Cornwall; and his two
brothers, also, were ministers. When about fourteen years of age, his
grandfather, who was a stanch royalist, sent him to Oxford, where he was
exceedingly studious, and, at the same time, zealous for the rites and
ceremonies of the Established Church. He now began, however, to apply
himself seriously to the controversy between the Prelatists and the
Puritans; and, after mature reflection, joined himself to the latter.
While a fellow of the college, he was highly esteemed by Dr Wilkins on
account of his mathematical genius. This was no small honour, for
Wilkins was the brother-in-law of Oliver Cromwell, was the warden of
Wadham College, and, in after years, became the founder of the Royal
Society, and, in 1668, was raised to the see of Chester. Morton began
his ministry in Oxford, and here for several years he lived as a
Conformist. After his ejectment by the Act of Uniformity, he resided in
a small tenement of his own in the parish of St Ives, and preached
privately to a few people in a neighbouring village. Having sustained a
large loss by the great fire of London, he removed thither to watch over
his affairs. Several of his friends prevailed with him to open an
academy at Newington Green. Here he had many pupils, who became
exceedingly useful both in Church and State. Scores of young ministers,
as well as many others who were eminent for scholarship, were educated
by him. He was in all respects an excellent man; but this failed to save
him from persecution. During the time that young Wesley was his pupil,
he was obliged to leave his school and to hide himself. Wesley writes:
“He had once before been excommunicated, and a capias issued out against
him, on which he was taken. But while in custody of an officer, in whose
house he was kept previous to being sent to prison, the officer died;
and there being none to detain him, he returned home again. He was now
in danger of a second capias, on which he used the mediation of my Lady
R. to get some respite, and sent his sister several times to London
House on the same errand. My Lord of L. promised him all reasonable
favour if he would leave Newington Green and his employment; but he
could not suffer him to continue in that, because it was so much to the
detriment and prejudice of the Established Church, and so much an
affront to the laws and universities. This threat caused Mr Morton to
abscond some time at a friend’s, absenting himself from us, and leaving
the senior pupils to instruct the junior.” After about twenty years’
continuance in the office of a tutor, he was so harassed with legal
processes from the Bishops’ Court that he was obliged to relinquish his
academy; and, in 1685, two years after Samuel Wesley left him to go to
the Oxford University, he went to America, where he was chosen pastor of
a church at Charleston, and became vice-president of Harvard College.
Here he died in 1697, at the age of about seventy-one. He was a man of a
sweet natural temper, and of a generous public spirit, an indefatigable
friend, pious, learned, ingenious, useful, and beloved by all who knew
him. He published nearly twenty treatises and other works,—all of them,
however, compendious, for he was an enemy to large volumes, and used to
say, “A great book is a great evil.”

Dunton states, that his “high character led many of the persecuted
Nonconformists to join him in America. He was the very soul of
philosophy, the repository of all arts and sciences, and of the Graces
too. His discourses were not stale or studied, but always new; high, but
not soaring; practical, but not low. His memory was as vast as his
knowledge. He was as far from ignorance as from pride; and, if we may
judge of a man’s religion by his charity, he was a sincere Christian.”

Samuel Wesley himself says: “Mr Morton was an ingenious and universally
learned man; but his chiefest excellency lay in mathematics. He had many
gentlemen of estate, who paid him well; but he thought more of the glory
of God than of his own private profit. He only wished to save himself
harmless; and, therefore, if he had little for some, he valued it not,
so as it was barely made up by others, and he could send out new
ministers to be ordained by presbyters.” While, however, Mr Wesley
speaks so commendably of Mr Morton, his language is widely different in
reference to Mr Morton’s pupils. He writes: “The pupils entertained a
mortal aversion to the Episcopal order; and there were but very few but
what abhorred monarchy itself. The king-killing doctrines were generally
received and defended.”

On one occasion some of the students went out at midnight to a little
hill not far from Newington, and, with a speaking trumpet, alarmed the
town, and then, through the trumpet, bellowed scandalous stories
respecting the clergyman of the place, the Rev. Mr S.

Those among them who composed the bitterest and most ill-mannered
sarcasms on the public prayers and liturgy of the Church, were caressed,
hugged, encouraged, and commended by the heads of the Dissenting party,
Wesley himself sharing in the applause awarded.

The students, also, were in the habit of reading “the most lewd,
abominable books that ever blasted Christian eye;” but it is right to
add, that this was done without the knowledge of their tutors.

Mr Morton’s was the principal Dissenting academy in the land, containing
forty or fifty pupils, and having annexed to it “a fine garden, a
bowling-green, a fish-pond, and a laboratory furnished with all sorts of
mathematical instruments.”[16]

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Footnote 16:

  Wesley’s _Letter from a Country Divine_. Third edit. London: 1706.

-----

The two gentlemen under whose care Samuel Wesley was placed in London
were men of learning, of piety, and of general excellence; and well
would it have been if he had had no worse advisers than these; but he
writes: “Some of their (the Dissenters) gravest, eldest, and most
learned ministers encouraged me in my silly lampoons, both on Church and
State. They gave me subjects, and furnished me with matter; some of them
transcribed my writings, and several of them revised and corrected them
before they were printed.”

Wesley began to write his “silly lampoons” soon after he came to London.
Some of his first squibs were thrown at a worthy man, who deserved more
respectful treatment, both from him and some others. The Rev. Thomas
Doolittle, whom he wantonly attacked, was a man of distinguished merit.
Born at Kidderminster in 1630, and educated in the College of Pembroke
Hall, Cambridge, he was, for nine years, the incumbent of the parish of
St Alphage, London. After being ejected by the Act of Uniformity, he
opened a boarding school, and, though against the law, a meeting-house
in Bunhill Fields. Here he preached to a numerous congregation, and had
many seals to his ministry, until at length, on a Saturday, at midnight,
the train bands came to arrest him; but he managed to escape. Next
morning, while another person was preaching for him, the soldiers rushed
into the chapel, and the officer, addressing the preacher, shouted, “I
command you, in the king’s name, to come down.” The preacher replied, “I
command you, in the name of the King of kings, not to disturb His
worship, but to let me go on.” The officer ordered his men to fire. The
undaunted preacher clapped his hand upon his heart, and said, “Shoot, if
you please; you can only kill the body.” Great confusion followed, in
the midst of which the brave-hearted preacher escaped; but Doolittle’s
pulpit was pulled to pieces, and the doors of his meeting-house were
fastened, and were branded with the king’s broad arrow. After this
Doolittle opened a private academy at Islington, where, among other
distinguished pupils, he had the care of Matthew Henry, the author of
the most practical Commentary on the sacred Scriptures ever published;
and also of Edward Calamy, the well known writer of the “Nonconformists’
Memorials.” It was at this time that Mr Doolittle published his work
entitled, “The Lord’s Last Sufferings,” and prefixed to it a copy of
Greek verses. Doolittle’s academy at Islington, and Veal’s at Stepney,
seem to have been sworn enemies to each other, and eagerly longed for an
opportunity to display their prowess in academic conflict. For want of a
more proper subject, they made the verses, prefixed to Doolittle’s book,
the occasion of the clash of arms; and, as young Wesley was already
“celebrated for his vein at poetry,” he took, as Dunton tells us, a
prominent part in a skirmish, which seems to have been wantonly begun,
and not too honourably carried on. The squibs which Wesley published are
lost—a thing not to be regretted.

Doolittle was far too good a man to be lampooned by the clever,
impertinent striplings belonging to a neighbouring school; but the man
whose goods had been seized and sold, and whose house and person had
been threatened by persecuting foes, was not likely to be crestfallen on
account of the pretentious swagger of young Wesley and his coxcomb
companions.

Another of Wesley’s lampoons, written while he was at Morton’s Academy,
was directed against Dr Williams, Bishop of Chichester, a man whom
Dunton describes as “of solid worth and distinguished goodness.” Wesley
says he was requested to write his satire against Williams by a
Dissenting minister of no mean fame, and that the occasion of it was as
follows:—A man, killed by a mob, had been buried, and Williams had
ordered his body to be taken up, that a coroner’s inquest might be held
upon it. Wesley knew nothing of the affair himself, but obtained full
instructions from a minister near Clapham, who also gave the young
Horace a guinea or two for encouragement. The lampoon was written, and
Dr Williams, together with the whole order of bishops, abused to the
very utmost of the young poet’s power, while his juvenile satirical
performance, as he tells us, “was sufficiently applauded” by the unwise
and dishonourable ministers who had prompted him to undertake such a
work. The bishops of that period might not be as praiseworthy as was
desirable; but it was a mean action for Christian ministers to do dirty
work by proxy, and to employ a young fellow, cleverer than themselves,
to write a pasquinade which, perhaps, they had not the ability to write.

All this was discreditable, both to young Wesley and to his prompters;
but there was something else, which, but for his own good sense, might
have been even worse. In the same year that Samuel Wesley was born,
Biddle, “the father of the English Unitarians,” died. Biddle had been
the master of the Free School of St Mary de Crypt, in Gloucester, and
had adopted the Unitarian doctrines respecting the Trinity. Among other
works embodying his creed, he published a tract, entitled, “Twelve
Arguments, drawn out of the Scriptures, wherein the commonly-received
opinion touching the Deity of the Holy Spirit is clearly and fully
refuted.” The House of Parliament ordered this tract to be burnt by the
common hangman, and, for its publication, the writer was doomed to five
years’ imprisonment. Biddle was repeatedly imprisoned after this, and
died September 22, 1662.

He was a man of great ability, and was an unwearied student. It is said
that he retained the whole of the New Testament in his memory
_verbatim_, not only in English, but in Greek, as far as the fourth
chapter of the Revelation. His persecutions made converts to his
principles, particularly in London; and from these he formed a distinct
and separate society, not only for the purpose of divine worship, but
for the free investigation of theological questions. The members of this
society were called, from Biddle, _Bidellians_; and, from their
agreement in opinion with the followers of Socinus, they were
denominated Socinians. The name, however, which most properly
characterised their leading sentiment was that of _Unitarians_; and in
this way the Unitarian sect in England had its origin.[17]

-----

Footnote 17:

  _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1790, p. 63, &c.

-----

It is a disgraceful fact that the life and works of this archheretic
were in the hands of the pupils of Morton’s academy, and that Wesley was
actually employed to translate some of those pernicious writings, and
was promised a considerable gratuity for doing it. He says, “When I saw
what it was, I proceeded no farther.” He might, however, have proceeded
farther, and, like many other juvenile aspirants, whilst dabbling in
Socinian works, might have become a Socinian himself; and, instead of
becoming an honoured rector of the Established Church, and the father of
the greatest reformer of the age, and of the best uninspired hymnist
since the days of King David, he might have dwindled down into a
cold-hearted sceptic, with a creed composed of negatives, and a life
bereft of blessings to those among whom he moved.

There is no intention, in all this, to censure Mr Morton. Twenty years
after these proceedings, Wesley, in his pamphlet against Dissenting
Academies, does honour both to Mr Morton and himself, by writing thus:
“I must, and ever will, do my tutor the justice to assert that, whenever
the young men had any discourse of the government, and talked
disaffectedly, or disloyally, he never failed to rebuke and admonish
them to the contrary, telling us expressly, more than once, that it was
none of our business to censure such as God had set over us; that small
miscarriages ought not to be magnified, nor severely reflected on, there
never having been a government so exact or perfect but what had some of
those _neavi_ in it. He also cautioned us against writing lampoons and
scandalous libels concerning our superiors, and that, not only because
it was dangerous so to do, but likewise immoral.”

Considering the disgraceful prosecutions to which Mr Morton had been
subjected, such a testimony shows him to have been a man of high
principle and honour; but Mr Morton, perhaps, was unable to prevent less
honourable ministers having access to the students of his academy; or of
his students having access to them. Besides, while the bulk of his
students were without doubt respectable and virtuous young men, it is
not unfair to imagine that, as in other seminaries, so in this, there
might be bad characters, who would try to infect the rest. And, in
addition to all this, while we hesitate in accusing young Wesley of
strictly immoral conduct, we are quite prepared to think, that the
exuberance of spirit, liveliness of wit, and adventurous heroism, which
seem to be characteristics of the Wesley family, would often hurry him
into improprieties, which he doubtless lamented in after life.

Wesley writes, “that some of the gravest, eldest, and most learned of
Dissenting ministers encouraged and pushed him on in his silly lampoons
both on Church and State,” that they “gave him subjects, and furnished
him with matter; that they transcribed, reviewed, and corrected his
writings before they were put to press; and that they taught him to
equivocate, by telling him, that, when he was charged with being the
author of such publications, he might deny that they were his,” because
of the “very weighty and honest reason that there might be _some
literal_ mistakes in the printing.” He also adds, that it was from among
the most famous of the Dissenting ministers that he “learned this way of
writing;” “that it was in their hands he first saw the lampoons which
were then most famous against the Government; and that he had often
heard them repeated by their own lips, oaths and all.”

These are weighty charges against the Dissenting ministers of that
period; and we have no means of refuting them. Still, while the
allegations of Samuel Wesley, in the main, are doubtless true, it is
only common charity to infer that these hot-headed, lampooning ministers
were exceptions to the general rule; and it is only fair, even to them,
to remind the reader that the Government and the age against whom the
lampoons were written, were almost as corrupt and vile as profligate and
abandoned wickedness could make them.

After all, it was a perilous thing for a young, sprightly fellow, like
Samuel Wesley, whose father and grandfather had, by the existing
Government, been ejected from their livings, reduced to beggary, and
hunted to a premature grave, and whose mother, in consequence of such
tyranny, was even now pining in some obscure dwelling, crushed with the
sorrows of a too early widowhood, and compelled to submit to the
humiliation of being, to some extent, dependent upon the charity of her
friends; we say, it was a perilous thing for such a young man to be
brought into close connexion with such political parsons. No wonder that
he acknowledges that, when he came to Mr Morton’s school, “he was
forward enough to write lampoons and pasquils;” “was abundantly zealous
in the cause;” “was fired with hopes of suffering;” “and often wished to
be brought before kings and rulers, because he thought what he did was
done for the sake of Christ.”

Such were the ministerial tempters of this high-spirited and exceedingly
clever youth. In Morton’s academy, there were about fifty pupils, many
of whom were doubtless as headstrong as himself, and at least two of
whom were a great deal worse than this, being not only headstrong, but
lewd and vicious. Would it have been surprising, if, under such
circumstances, Samuel Wesley had fallen into worse errors than what he
did? and is it not owing to the prayers of his dead father, the training
of his widowed mother, and the restraining grace of God’s good Spirit,
that, in after life, he was able to tell his enemies, face to face,
without fear of contradiction, that, though he was not an “exemplary
liver” while at Mr Morton’s academy, he was not a “scandalous one?” He
admits that he was too keen and revengeful, and that if he thought a
person had injured him, he could not forgive such a person, without
receiving something which he thought to be satisfaction. That seems to
have been one of his greatest crimes; but now all such revengeful
feeling was done away; and it was the greatest pleasure of his life to
forgive and to oblige an enemy.

Before quitting the “school days” of Samuel Wesley, perhaps it may be
interesting to add, that, besides himself, several of his school-fellows
rose to great eminence.

For instance, there was Timothy Cruso, “the golden preacher,” as he was
called, and who was so great a textuary, says Dunton, that he could pray
two hours together in Scripture language. Also Obadiah Marriott, who was
Dunton’s uncle, and for many years officiated as minister at Chiswick,
and at Croydon.

John Shower was another of Morton’s pupils. He was born at Exeter, and
was educated, first in his native city, then at a Dissenting academy at
Taunton, and then at Newington Green; was encouraged, by Dr Manton, to
begin preaching before he was twenty, and, at twenty-two, was ordained
assistant to Vincent Alsop, at Tothill Fields; established a successful
lecture against Popery, in Exchange Alley; and, some years afterwards,
went abroad, and became lecturer to the English Church at Utrecht and
Rotterdam. In 1690 he became assistant to the great John Howe, in Silver
Street, London, and finally settled down at the new meeting-house, in
Old Jewry, where he continued to preach, with great popularity, until
his death in 1715. He was the author of—1. “Serious Reflections on Time
and Eternity.” 2. “Practical Reflections on the great Earthquakes in
Jamaica and Italy,” &c. 3. “Family Religion.” 4. “The Life of Henry
Gearing.” 5. “Funeral and Sacramental Discourses.” 6. “Winter
Meditations,” &c. &c. &c. He was a great favourite of John Dunton’s, who
describes him as “a popular preacher, with a small shrill voice, and
noted for his funeral sermons.” In his “Dissenting Doctors,” Dunton
writes in extravagant and doggerel rhyme:—

           “Shower—thy name and nature both agree,
           For both, (yes both,) refreshing showers be—
           You’re Chrysostom, let down from beams on high,
           You preach like him, charm with his orat’ry:
           So moving are your sermons, that, ’tis clear,
           You’ve brought the rhetoric of angels here;
           So pious in your life, meek in your place,
           We think you brought up in the schools of grace—
           Your pulpit’s fragrant, for you preach in flowers,
           And when the bearer’s truly blest, it—Showers—
           Showers, indeed! for both thy tongue and pen,
           Have often made our graces spring again.”

Another of Wesley’s school-fellows was the celebrated Daniel Defoe—the
son of a London butcher, and born the year before Wesley was—the master
of five languages, and a diligent student of mathematics, natural
philosophy, geography, history, and logic; a man who commenced trade as
a horse-dealer; but who paid less attention to trade than to politics;
and hence, at the age of thirty-one, was bankrupt, and had to compound
with his creditors. Trade failing, Defoe turned author, and published
several works, which gained him the confidence of King William, and
excited great attention. In 1703, he issued his publication entitled,
“The Shortest Way with Dissenters,” of which more anon. In 1704, he
commenced the _Review_, a periodical which extended to nine quarto
volumes, and which pointed the way to the _Tatlers_, _Spectators_, and
_Guardians_ that followed. After this, he was, in more instances than
one, employed by the Government, and was granted a Government pension.
By his _Family Instructor_, the family of George I. were instructed; his
“Robinson Crusoe” is too well known to need description; while his
“Captain Singleton,” “Moll Flanders,” “Religious Courtship,” “Cavalier,”
“Colonel Jack,” and “Fortunate Mistress;” his “Journal of the Plague,”
“Political History of the Devil,” and “New Voyage Round the World,” if
not read now, used to be read by admiring myriads. Defoe was a
marvellous man, and something more will have to be said concerning him.
He died in poverty, four years before Samuel Wesley died, and was buried
in Bunhill Fields, in 1731.

Space forbids any further mention of the school-fellows of young Wesley;
and we can only add, that, notwithstanding the dangers to which he was
exposed, and excepting the censurable proceedings already noticed, he
left London with an unblemished character, and considerably advanced in
classical learning, by the instructions of the two pious and eminent men
who acted as his tutors. He had the opportunity of attending the
ministry of Stephen Charnock, John Bunyan, and many other of the most
popular preachers of the day; and, before he went to Oxford, had taken
down many hundreds of their sermons. Though he left the Dissenters, it
would be folly to deny that these dissenting sermons greatly enriched
his mind, and helped to mould his moral character.

[Besides some of the works mentioned at the close of Chapters I and II.,
the following have contributed to the contents of the present chapter,
viz., Clarke’s _Wesley Family_, Dunton’s _Life and Times_, Toulmin’s
_Life of Biddle_, _Gentleman’s Magazine_, the Tracts written during the
controversy between Wesley and Palmer in 1703–1707, the works mentioned
in the course of the chapter, and others.]




                              CHAPTER IV.
                       UNIVERSITY DAYS—1683—1688.


Samuel Wesley left the Dissenters in 1683. Why? His son, the Rev. John
Wesley, shall answer. His statement is as follows:—

“Some severe invectives being written against the Dissenters, Mr S.
Wesley, being a young man of considerable talents, was pitched upon to
answer them. This set him on a course of reading, which soon produced an
effect different from what had been intended. Instead of writing the
wished-for answer, he himself conceived he saw reason to change his
opinions; and actually formed a resolution to renounce the Dissenters,
and attach himself to the Established Church. He lived at that time with
his mother and an old aunt, both of whom were too strongly attached to
the Dissenting doctrines to have borne, with any patience, the
disclosure of his design. He therefore got up one morning, at a very
early hour, and, without acquainting any one with his purpose, set out
on foot to Oxford, and entered himself of Exeter College.”

Samuel Wesley’s own account is, in substance, the following:—While he
was a student in the Dissenting academies in London, Dr Owen wished him
and some others to graduate at the universities, on the ground that the
Dissenters were expecting the times to change, and that in a little
while their party would be looked upon with greater favour, and their
pupils be allowed to take university degrees. Owen, however, insisted
that on no account whatever ought they to take the oaths and
subscriptions.

While Wesley was still in doubt whether to adopt Dr Owen’s advice, he
began to study for himself the usual arguments for separating from the
Church. He writes—“I earnestly implored the divine direction in a
business of so weighty a concern, and on which so much of my whole life
depended. I examined things over and over, as calmly and impassionately
as possible; and the farther I looked, still the more the mist cleared
up, and things appeared in another sort of light than I had seen them in
all my life before. So far were the sufferings of the Dissenters at that
time from influencing my resolution to leave them, that, I profess, it
was a thing which retarded me most of any. The ungenerosity of quitting
them in their meaner fortunes, when I had been a sharer in their better,
I knew not how to get over. Still, I began to have some inclinations to
the University, if I knew how to get thither, or to live there when I
came; but then I was not acquainted with one soul of the Church of
England, or, at least, with none to whom I might address myself for
assistance or advice.

“I was now offered employment among the Dissenters, (having been with
them nearly four years,) either in a gentleman’s house, or as chaplain
to an East Indian ship; but my inclinations were more for Oxford, where,
I thought, I might have opportunities more fully to study the point
which I was now almost resolved upon.

“Still there were some rubs lay in my way thither, which our people
generally urged to prevent us from such intentions. I was told (1.) that
the Universities were so scandalously debauched that there was no
breathing for a sober man in them; (2.) that the Church of England, so
far from encouraging Dissenters to close with her communion, generally
frowned on those who did so, and never loved nor trusted them; and (3.)
that the nation was so unanimously against the Church of England, that
the bishops and hierarchy would certainly have a speedy fall; and even
rats and mice were wise enough to quit a tumbling house, and not to run
into it.”

In reference to the first of these objections, he says—“I resolved not
to believe a word about Oxford debauchery till I saw it, for which now a
very happy opportunity offered. Dr Owen having died, the trustees of the
£10 exhibition[18] requested me to enter the university with all speed.
To this end I went to Oxford, and stayed there some time. I found many
sober and religious men, as well as some Rakehells; and discoursed
several points on which I still hesitated a little, and received
satisfaction on them.”

-----

Footnote 18:

  The £10 exhibition was one of upwards of twenty more, left by Dr G.
  for the benefit of young scholars designed to be ministers.

-----

He adds, that having been so long with the Dissenters, he still thought,
even after he went to Oxford, that Episcopacy would be abolished; and
not being willing to be over hasty, he returned to London to give the
subject further consideration. Soon after his return, he had £20 given
him,—part of a considerable some of money, left by a Dissenter, to be
distributed among ministers. With this he paid his debts, as far as it
would go, and then resolved for Oxford as soon as possible,—whither
accordingly he went, in the name of God, and entered himself there, the
—— day in August 1683, a servitor of Exeter College.

When he had been some months at college, and after several letters had
passed between them, he was “followed by a young gentleman, one of his
fellow-pupils at his first tutor’s, who was now a Fellow of Exeter
College, and ordained a priest.”[19]

-----

Footnote 19:

  S. Wesley’s _Letter from a Country Divine_. Third edit. 1706.

-----

This is all that is known of the reasons that induced Samuel Wesley to
leave the Church of his fathers, except another little incident
mentioned by himself. He writes—“A reverend and worthy person, my
relation, who lived at a great distance, coming to London, was so kind
as to see me while I was at Mr Morton’s, and gave me such arguments
against the Dissenting schism, which I was then embarked with, as added
weight to my resolutions, when I began to think of leaving it.”

The above account differs from the accounts which previous biographers
have published; but, being taken from Mr Wesley’s own writings, there
can be no doubt of its correctness.

When Samuel Wesley set out for Oxford, all that he possessed was
forty-five shillings. By leaving the Dissenters, he had forfeited the
friendship of all the friends he had. His mother was a poor forlorn
widow, utterly unable to afford him help; and yet, this well-nigh
penniless young man resolves to obtain for himself a university
education and university degrees. He was nearly five years at college;
and yet, five shillings was all the assistance which, during that
period, he received from his family and friends. To ride to college was
a thing not to be thought about. To use his own expression, he “_footed
it_.” His books, his clothes, and his other luggage, were all probably
carried in a knapsack on his back. Thus the young student entered
Oxford, friendless and well-nigh moneyless, in 1683; and, five years
after, he left it, not dishonoured, but with B.A. attached to his
subsequently distinguished name,—having managed to support himself, and
to pay his fees, by his own endeavours, and to bring away with him a
purse more than four times heavier than the purse he took. He started
with forty-five shillings: he left with two hundred and fifteen. How was
this accomplished? We shall shortly see.

The following description of Exeter College is taken from “A Pocket
Companion for Oxford,” published in the middle of the eighteenth
century:—The front of Exeter College is 220 feet long, in the centre of
which is a magnificent gate, with a tower over it. The building within
chiefly consists of a large quadrangle, formed by the hall, the chapel,
the rector’s lodgings, and the chambers of the students. The gardens are
neatly disposed, and, though within the town, have an airy and pleasant
opening to the east. The library is well furnished with books in the
several arts and sciences, and with a very valuable collection of the
classics, given by Edward Richards, Esq. It also contains a large
orrery, the gift of Thomas Blackall, Esq. The hall was built by Sir John
Ackland, and the chapel by Dr Hakewell. Hakewell was a man of eminence.
Having been appointed chaplain to Prince Charles, he deemed it his duty
to attempt to convince his royal pupil that he would act wisely in
abandoning his contemplated marriage with the Infanta of Spain. This so
enraged Charles’s father, that he ordered Hakewell to be arrested and
imprisoned. Under the reign of Charles, however, he was promoted to the
bishopric of Worcester, and was elected Rector of Exeter College. When
the civil wars commenced, he submitted to the authority of Parliament,
and retained his office as rector of the college till his death, in
1649. His chief work is a folio volume, on the “Power and Providence of
God.”

The founder of Exeter College was Walter Stapleton, Bishop of Exeter,
Lord Treasurer of England, and Secretary of State to King Edward II.,
1316. He founded a society of thirteen—that is, a rector and twelve
fellows—one of whom, the chaplain, was to be appointed by the dean and
chapter of Exeter; eight were to be elected out of the archdeaconries of
Exeter, Totnes, and Barnstaple; and four out of the archdeaconry of
Cornwall. Among the subsequent benefactors of Exeter College was Edmund
Stafford, Bishop of Exeter, who settled two fellowships for the diocese
of Sarum. Sir William Petre obtained a new charter and new statutes, and
founded eight additional fellowships. Charles I. added one for Jersey
and Guernsey; and Mrs Shiers added two more for Hertford and Surrey. The
number of students was about eighty, and the visitor was the Bishop of
Exeter.

Samuel Wesley entered this college as a _servitor_. A “servitor” means a
scholar or student, who attends and waits on another scholar or student,
and receives, as a compensation, his maintenance. Such was the position
of young Wesley. There was no help for it. He was determined to secure
the benefits of a university education; and, in the absence of money and
of friends, he became a servant to some other scholar in order to find
himself bread. There was no disgrace in this; and yet, it is not
difficult to imagine that such a “servitor,” notwithstanding his
cleverness, would be subjected to taunts from beardless youths, who, in
all respects excepting one, were vastly his inferiors. Here was a young
man, twenty-one years of age, respectably connected, highly educated,
but well-nigh as poor as poverty could make him, resolved upon the
acquisition of academic fame; and, in the struggle, battling with his
innate pride, and patiently, if not cheerfully, submitting to annoyances
for the sake of obtaining that upon which his heart was set.
Difficulties, which would have discouraged others, aroused him; and he
resolved to conquer or to die.

Samuel Wesley was a servitor; and he was also entered as _pauper
scholaris_, which was the lowest of the four conditions of members of
the Exeter College. He began as low as he could begin; but struggling
with discouragements increased his strength instead of lessening it. He
rose superior to his obstacles. Besides attending to the humiliating
duties of a servitor, he composed exercises for those who had more money
than mind, and gave instructions to those who wished to profit by his
lessons; and thus, by unwearied toil and great frugality, the poor,
fatherless, and friendless scholar, not only managed to support himself,
but when he retired from Oxford in 1688, he was seven pounds fifteen
shillings richer than he was when he first entered it in 1683. Who can
tell his struggles during the five years of privation spent at this
great seat of learning? His _servitorial_ services might obtain him
bread; but what about the payment of his fees, the purchase of his
clothes, and the procuring of fire? The first winter of his residence at
Oxford, was one of the severest recorded in the annals of English
history. Calamy tells us that “the Thames was frozen over, and the ice
so firm and strong, that there were hundreds of booths and shops upon
it. Coaches plied as freely from the Temple Stairs to Westminster, as if
they had gone upon the land. All sorts of diversions were practised on
the congealed waters, and even an ox was roasted whole on the river,
over against Whitehall.” Such was the bitter commencement of Samuel
Wesley’s collegiate life; and, at the most, he only had about two
pounds, in his almost needless purse, to meet it.

“Necessity is the mother of invention.” It was this, probably, that
induced Samuel Wesley to publish his first work in 1685. Whilst he was
at Mr Veal’s and Mr Morton’s academies, he wrote a number of boyish
rhymes, several of which were recited from the platforms of those
academies, and gained applause from the tutors and pupils present. Other
poetical pieces of a similar description were written after he went to
Oxford; and the whole, during the second year of his residence, were
published under the title of “Maggots; or Poems on several subjects
never before handled, by a Scholar, London. Printed for John Dunton, at
the sign of the Black Raven, near the Royal Exchange, 1685.”

This book will neither instruct the reader, nor contribute to the
author’s literary fame; and yet, because it was the first book published
by an eminent literary man; and because it is now so extremely scarce,
that hardly one Wesleyan student in a thousand has ever seen it, a brief
description of it may be interesting, if not useful.

The book begins with an anonymous portrait of the author, crowned with
laurel, and having a Maggot seated on his brow. Beneath the portrait are
the following lines:—

                 “In his own defence the author writes,
                 Because when this foul maggot bites,
                     He ne’er can rest in quiet:
                 Which makes him make so sad a face,
                 He’d beg your worship, or your grace,
                     Unsight, unseen, to buy it.”

The book consists of 172 pages; and is dedicated “To the honoured Mr H.
D——, Head Master of the Free School in D——, in the county of D——.” “Mr
H. D——” was Mr Henry Dolling, who was Samuel Wesley’s schoolmaster at
Dorchester. In the dedication, he informs us that this book is his
“first formed birth,” and, in his epistle to the reader, he says that
“all the Maggots are the natural issue of his own brain pan, born and
bred there, and only there.” In reply to the objection, that the work is
“light, vain, frothy, and below the gravity of a man, at least of a
Christian,” he says, if the objector will lend him a handful of beard,
and be at the charge of grafting it on, he will promise a speedy and
thorough reformation. Besides, he argues, that time ought to be allowed
for recreation as well as work; and, moreover, he hopes that he has
written nothing to make even himself or his reader blush. He was never
vain enough to think that his “Maggots” would procure him much
reputation; neither was he ambitious of seeing his worthy name
glittering in a Term Catalogue; and therefore he thought it not worth
his while to throw away better time in making his book more perfect.[20]

-----

Footnote 20:

  For the titles of the poems, see Appendix A.

-----

Many of the poems flash with wit, and are most pleasantly expressed.
Sometimes there is a want of delicacy; but that, perhaps, is not so much
the fault of the man, as of the age in which he wrote. Southey says,
“His imagination seems to have been playful and diffuse; and had he
written during his son’s celebrity, some of his pieces might perhaps
have been condemned by the godly as profane.” Dr A. Clarke demurs to
this, and not without reason. There are in the “Maggots” what the
present refined age would call indelicate and coarse expressions; but,
in this respect, Samuel Wesley was only imitating Dryden and the
standard writers of the period in which he lived.

Several of the poems are levelled against the vices of the day, and are
scorchingly severe; but it would scarcely answer any good purpose to
reproduce them.

We merely give one extract, taken from the piece on “the Tobacco Pipe,”
and which is a fair specimen of the entire book. Perhaps, also, it
indicates that he had already fallen into the unfortunate habit of
smoking, which will have to be noticed in due time:—

       “In these raw mornings, when I’m freezing ripe,
       What can compare with a tobacco pipe?
       Primed, cock’d, and touch’t, ’twould better heat a man
       Than ten Bath faggots, or Scotch warming pan.
       For the toothache ’tis a specific aid,
       For every amorous boy, or lovesick maid.
       Sometimes another way to work ’twill go,
       Up spouts a deluge from the abyss below;—
       This physic is more safe, (though not so fine,)
       Than bumpers crown’d too oft with sparkling wine.
       A glass is not a better cure than that,
       For care, or toothache, both of which would kill a cat.
       Surely when Prometheus climb’d above the poles,
       Slyly to learn their art of making souls,
       When of his fire he fretting Jove did wipe,
       He stole it thence in a tobacco pipe;
       Which, predisposed to live, as down he ran,
       By the soul’s plastic power, from clay was turn’d to man.”

In the “Dunciad”[21] of Alexander Pope, there is a line which seems to
refer to Samuel Wesley’s “Maggots.” The reference is not clear and
undeniable; but still it has an air of probability. In his first book,
line 53, Pope writes:—

           “Here she beholds the chaos dark and deep,
           Where nameless somethings in their causes sleep,
           ’Till genial Jacob, or a warm third day
           Call forth each mass, a poem or a play.
           How hints, like spawn, scarce quick in embryo lie!
           How new-born nonsense first is taught to cry!
           _Maggots_ half form’d, in rhyme, exactly meet,
           And learn to crawl upon poetic feet!
           Here one poor word a hundred clenches makes,
           And ductile dulness new meanders takes;
           There motley images her fancy strike,
           Figures ill-pair’d, and similes unlike.”

-----

Footnote 21:

  Edition 1729.

-----

This first book of Samuel Wesley’s was published by the eccentric John
Dunton, who was born three years before Wesley, and therefore was now a
young publisher, of not more than twenty-six years of age. His father
was a clergyman, and he was intended for the same profession; but, being
found too volatile, he was apprenticed to Thomas Parkhurst, the most
eminent Presbyterian bookseller in the three kingdoms. Wesley was
acquainted with Dunton before he went to Oxford. A year previous to his
removal thither, he was present at Dunton’s wedding, and presented to
the happy couple an epithalamium. The object of Dunton’s choice was
Elizabeth, one of the daughters of Dr Samuel Annesley, and sister of her
who six years afterwards became the wife of Wesley. Dunton commenced
business near the Royal Exchange. His affairs prospered for the first
three years, until the stagnation cast upon trade by the defeat of
Monmouth in the west. In the same year that he published Wesley’s
“Maggots,” he sustained some serious losses, and went to America to
repair his fortune. Twelve months afterwards, he came back to his wife
and to her father; but, on account of his pecuniary embarrassments, he
was, for nearly a year, a sort of domestic prisoner, and, to avoid
arrest, durst not cross the threshold of the house in which he lived.
The only time, in the course of ten months, that he ventured to go out
of doors, was on a Sunday to hear Dr Annesley, his father-in-law,
preach. To prevent detection, he shaved off his beard, and put on a
woman’s clothes. He got safe to the meeting-house, and sat down in the
obscurest corner he could find. He was returning home, through
Bishopsgate Street, with all the circumspection and care imaginable,
when an unlucky rogue cried out, “I’ll be hanged if that be not a man in
woman’s clothes!” Away Dunton ran as fast as his legs could carry him; a
mob of twenty or thirty persons ran after him; but his intimate
knowledge of the alleys in that part of the city, enabled him to dodge
and get rid of his pursuers, and, in great trepidation he reached his
house without arrest.[22] Dunton became wearied with this confinement,
and made a trip to Holland, Flanders, and Germany, and returned to
London in 1688. On the same day that the Prince of Orange entered the
capital, Dunton re-opened his place of business. Here he printed six
hundred books, and says, there were only seven of them which occasioned
him repentance. In 1692 he became possessed of a considerable estate, by
the decease of a cousin, and was elected a member of the Company of
Stationers. At the age of thirty-eight he was bereaved of his first
wife, whose decease he bitterly lamented; but, before the year was out,
consoled himself by another marriage with Sarah, daughter of Mrs
Nicholas of St Albans. This lady added neither to his comfort nor his
fortune. He left her soon after they were married, and became
financially embarrassed to the end of life. He died in obscurity two
years before Samuel Wesley, in 1733, aged seventy-four.

-----

Footnote 22:

  Dunton’s _Life and Errors_.

-----

Dunton was a strange mortal; a man half mad, and yet possessed of
genius, and a dabbler in all sorts of books. In 1710 he produced his
“Athenianism; or, New Projects,” in which he actually announced his
intention to publish six hundred distinct treatises, all written by
himself. He was far too wild and whimsical to be prosperous.

His description of himself is amusingly characteristic. He says, he was
of middle stature; his hair black and curled; his eyes quick and full of
spirit; his lips red and soft; his face, though not so beautiful as
some, yet rendered amiable by a cheerful, sprightly air; his body
slender and well proportioned; and his spirit pious and devout. He was
plentiful in wit; his way of writing excellent; he had great skill in
poetry; his temper was sweet; and he was the most passionate and
constant lover living. His friendship was courted by all who knew him.
He was hard to be displeased; and, when offended, was easy to be
reconciled. His soul was tender and compassionate; and his modesty more
than usually great.

In completing this modest portraiture of himself, Dunton adds, “To
finish this imperfect description, I must sincerely say, I have all
those good qualities that are necessary to render me an accomplished
gentleman.”

Such was John Dunton, the publisher of Samuel Wesley’s first literary
production. Dunton says, “The rector of Epworth got his bread by the
‘Maggots;’” but Dunton, when he wrote that, had imbibed an implacable
hatred towards Wesley, and what he says must be received with caution.
No doubt the college finances of young Wesley were extremely low, and,
perhaps, in publishing his “Maggots,” he had some hope of raising them;
but it is scarce likely that the poor scholar would gain much by his
adventure, inasmuch as, from the size of his book, the publishing price
did not probably exceed a shilling.

Samuel Wesley’s time at the university was well occupied. First of all,
he had to attend to his duties as servitor, for on that, to some extent,
his maintenance depended. Then, to obtain money for the payment of his
fees, he gave assistance to other students not so far advanced, nor so
willing to submit to hard work as he was. Then he had to prepare for his
own examinations, on the result of which depended his obtaining a
university degree; and this he did so successfully, that on the 19th of
June 1688, he was created Bachelor of Arts; the only student of Exeter
College that, during that year, obtained such a distinction.[23]

-----

Footnote 23:

  Anthony Wood.

-----

Such labours were onerous; but, whilst his time must have been greatly
occupied with his daily duties, his benevolent heart would not permit
him to live wholly to himself. He was not only ambitious to raise
himself, but he likewise yearned to benefit others; and, it is a
remarkable coincidence, that the objects of his sympathy were exactly of
the same class as those who, forty-five years afterwards, were visited
and helped by his sons, John and Charles, and the other Oxford
Methodists. Notwithstanding the weightiness of his college work, and the
lightness of his college purse, he found time to visit the poor wretched
inmates of Oxford Gaol, and gladly relieved them as far as he was able.
Writing to his two sons, in 1730, when they had begun, of their own
accord, to visit the same prison house, he says:—“Go on, in God’s name,
in the path to which your Saviour has directed you, and that track
wherein your father has gone before you! For when I was an undergraduate
at Oxford I visited those in the castle there, and reflect on it with
great satisfaction to this day. Walk as prudently as you can, though not
fearfully, and my heart and prayers are with you.”[24]

-----

Footnote 24:

  Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 7.

-----

When Samuel Wesley had spent about eighteen months at the university
King Charles II. died, and James II. succeeded him. A few months
afterwards, Oxford was honoured with a visit from this papistical
monarch, and an event happened which exercised an important influence on
Wesley’s subsequent career. One of the historians of Methodism has said,
it is a remarkable fact that, though Samuel Wesley had “the piety and
persecutions of his father and grandfather in his memory, and though the
condition and tendencies of the court were open to his inspection, he
was very much attached to the interests of King James.”

This statement rests entirely on the testimony of Dr A. Clarke, who
says, “His son John has been heard to state that at first his father was
very much attached to the interests of James.” It is deferentially
submitted whether this is strictly true. It is scarce likely that a
young man of intelligence, scholarship, and honour, like Samuel Wesley;
a young man whose father and grandfather had been ejected from their
churches, and hunted to their graves by the myrmidons of Stuart perfidy;
and a young man, whose entire life had been spent in the society and
schools of those who hated, and had just cause to hate, the Stuart
dynasty; we say it is scarce likely that such a young man would feel
either much attachment, or any attachment at all, to a despotic and
royal traitor like the one just mentioned. But, be that as it may, the
occurrence which happened at Oxford, and which is about to be related,
exercised an important influence on Samuel Wesley’s subsequent
behaviour.

Almost immediately after James’s accession, in 1685, he obtained the
appointment of one Massey, a Papist, as Dean of Christ Church, Oxford.
He likewise secured for Obadiah Walker, master of University College, a
concealed Papist, a licence for publishing popish books,—a licence of
which Walker had the courage to avail himself, for he immediately
established in his college both a printing press and a popish chapel.
All this naturally created great excitement. Soon after, in January
1687, the noble family of Petre (of whom Father Edward Petre was one)
claimed the right of nomination to seven fellowships in Exeter College,
in which Samuel Wesley was a student. It was acknowledged on the part of
the college that Sir William Petre, who had founded the fellowships, in
the reign of Elizabeth, and likewise his son, had both exercised the
power of nomination, though the latter, as they contended, had nominated
only by sufferance. The Bishop of Exeter, the visitor of the college,
had, in the reign of James I., pronounced an opinion against the
founder’s descendants, and a judgment had been obtained against them in
the Court of Common Pleas. Under the sanction of these authorities, the
college had, for seventy years, nominated to these fellowships without
disturbance from the family of Petre. Alibone, the popish lawyer,
contended that this long usage, which would otherwise have been
conclusive, deserved little consideration in a period of such iniquity
towards Catholics, who had been deterred from asserting their civil
rights. King James took up the matter, and demanded from the university
that they should acknowledge a right in Father Petre to name seven
fellows of Exeter College. This the university most firmly resisted, and
the question was referred to the Courts of Westminster. All this added
fuel to the fire already kindled.

But James’s illegal and arbitrary conduct proceeded still further. He
commanded the Fellows of Magdalen College to elect, as their Master, one
Antony Farmer, another concealed Papist. The Fellows petitioned his
Majesty, but finding him not to be moved, they exercised their own
undoubted right, and elected Dr Howe. A new mandate was issued to the
college to elect Parker, Bishop of Oxford. This man had been a zealous
Puritan preacher under the Commonwealth, a bigoted High Churchman at the
Restoration, and was now a papistical prelate, through his popish
servility to James II. He died a few months after, as destitute of
virtue as of judgment—a drunkard and a miser—unlamented and even
despised by all good men. The Fellows of Magdalen College refused to
accept of James’s nominee, and, with commendable spirit, stuck to the
Master of their own choosing. James was inexpressibly annoyed; and, in
the course of the summer of 1687, arrived at Oxford. The unmanageable
Fellows of Magdalen were summoned into the royal presence, and were chid
for their disobedience. Samuel Wesley was present, and was an intensely
interested spectator of the disreputable scene. “You have not dealt with
me like gentlemen!” cried the weakly, arrogant, and furious king; “you
have been unmannerly as well as undutiful. Is this your Church of
England loyalty? I could not have believed that so many clergymen of the
Church of England would have been concerned in such a business. Go
home!—get you gone! I am king! I will be obeyed! Go to your chapel this
instant, and admit the Bishop of Oxford. Let those who refuse look to
it; they shall feel the whole weight of my hand; they shall know what it
is to incur the displeasure of their sovereign!”

Here was a call for passive obedience from the very lips of the Lord’s
anointed, but still the Fellows were uncowed; and answering the royal
tyrant respectfully but firmly, they insisted on their right. They were
then privately warned that they would be proceeded against by _quo
warranto_, and inevitably lose everything. But still the gownsmen were
firm. The king was astonished and enraged, and issued a commission to
examine the state of the college, with full power to alter the statutes
and frame new ones. The chief of this Commission was Cartwright, Bishop
of Chester, who, like Parker, had been a Puritan in the days of
Cromwell, then a flaming Churchman under Charles, and was now a drunken
tool in the hands of James. The Commissioners arrived at Oxford on the
20th of October 1687; but Master Howe maintained his rights, and the
rights of the body which had elected him. On the second day, the
Commissioners deprived him of his Mastership, struck his name from the
books, and bound him in a penalty of £1000 to appear in the King’s
Bench. Parker was put into possession by force, and a majority of the
Fellows were at length prevailed upon to submit to royal dictation.

This ought to have satisfied the imperious monarch; but it was not
enough, and he now insisted that the Fellows should acknowledge their
disobedience and repentance in a written submission; but right nobly
they resisted this stretch of tyranny, withdrew their former submission,
and declared in writing that they could not acknowledge they had done
aught amiss. This led to further outrages; and, on the 16th of November,
judgment was pronounced against them in the shape of a general
deprivation and expulsion. But even this was not sufficient to appease
James’s vengeance; and hence, a month afterwards, another sentence was
issued, incapacitating all and every of the Fellows of Magdalen from
holding any benefice or preferment in the Church. James also declared
that he would look upon any favour shown to the Fellows as a combination
against himself. They were accordingly expelled; their places in the
university were filled by avowed Papists, or by very doubtful
Protestants; and they themselves were left to find employment and a
maintenance in the best way they could. James intended to hinder even
their friends offering them assistance; but, notwithstanding his
contemptible threats, considerable collections were made for them; and
his own daughter, the Princess of Orange, sent over £200 for their
relief; so that, in the end, though they obtained the honours of
martyrdom, they experienced little of its sufferings. Twelve months
after their expulsion their intolerant oppressor made a miserable flight
to France, and the Prince of Orange stepped into his place.[25]

-----

Footnote 25:

  Knight’s _History of England_.

-----

It was in the midst of such disreputable proceedings that Samuel Wesley
finished his collegiate training, and left the excited seat of learning
where he had spent the last five years. As already stated, he was
present when James lectured the Fellows of Magdalen College in such
unkingly fashion; and Dr Clarke relates, on the authority of the Rev.
Thomas Stedman, that the spirit of young Wesley rose in rebellion
against this exhibition of royal arrogance, and that he afterwards
remarked: “When I heard him say to the Master and Fellows of Magdalen
College, lifting up his lean arm, ‘If you refuse to obey me, you shall
feel the weight of a king’s right hand,’ I saw he was a tyrant. And
though I was not inclined to take an active part against him, I was
resolved from that time to give him no kind of support.”

This may be true, and yet there is considerable difficulty in
reconciling it with another fact which must be mentioned.

It was during the summer of 1687 that King James played the tyrant in
Magdalen College, and it was on the 10th of June 1688 that the Prince of
Wales was born. The words of young Wesley, as cited by Dr Clarke, are
evidence that he had formed the purpose to take no part with those who
were intent upon the dethronement of James. He was a man far too loyal
to become a rebel; and yet it cannot be denied that he regarded the
interests of James with indifference. “I was resolved,” says he, “from
that time to give him no support.” While James was king he would obey
him; but while bowing to the royal will, he would do nothing to maintain
and to establish the royal cause. Such was Wesley’s position in the
summer of 1687—one of neutrality, or, at the most, of mere obedience.

But twelve months afterwards, at the birth of the Prince of Wales, a
change seems to have come over him. The nation took but little interest
in this event; in fact, it, was alleged that the birth of a royal prince
was a royal imposition; and though the court commanded London to make
bonfires, and to exhibit other signs of rejoicing, London was sullen,
and would provide no rejoicings, except for the seven bishops which were
then imprisoned in the Tower, but for whose rescue from the royal
tyranny of James the country was most earnestly hoping. Among other
means which were used to extort congratulations respecting the royal
birth, was a more than mere gentle hint to the University of Oxford that
it would be expected to furnish a volume of congratulatory poems, and
that even Magdalen College itself would join in this.[26] Strange to
say, the hint was adopted, and a book was written containing more than a
hundred poetic pieces professing joy at the birth of a Prince of Wales.

-----

Footnote 26:

  _See_ Ellis’s _Correspondence_, vol. ii., p. 4.

-----

That volume is now before us. Its title-page bears the following
inscription:—“Strenæ Natalitiæ Academiæ Oxoniensis, in Clarissimum
Principem: Oxonii E Theatro Sheldoniano. An. Dom. 1668.” It consists of
86 folio pages, each of which is headed, “In Natalem Sereniss. Principis
Walliæ.” About ninety of the poems are in Latin, two are in Greek, four
in Arabic, one in Hebrew, and twelve in English. The celebrated Hebrew
professor, Dr Edward Pococke, wrote his in Arabic. Samuel Wesley and
eleven others wrote theirs in English. Most of the colleges, Magdalen
included, are represented. The writers belonging to Exeter College are,
Sir Henry Northcote, Bart., John Read, Henry Maundrell, and Samuel
Wesley. Wesley’s poem is the last but two in the book, and fills two
pages. The poem is too long for insertion here, but the reader will find
it complete, with the exception of about half a dozen small errors, in
Dr Clarke’s “Wesley Family.” Suffice it to say, that Wesley represents
Ariosto as bringing his lyre from heaven to join in the rejoicings.
Ariosto also draws “a vocal picture” of the royal group. The “dazzling
lustre” of all the graces shines around the eyes of the happy Queen;
“Great James’s” joy is “too bright to be expressed,” and therefore the
poet puts “a modest veil around his radiant head;” while the infant
prince has his mother’s eyes, through which, however, shines his
father’s soul. The child is “a child of miracles,” and a “son of
prayers;” he is to defend “his father’s mighty throne,” and to give
“Europe peace;” he is to have “valiant brothers,” who will “share in his
triumphs;” and when he visits Oxford, the “venerable men, who met Great
James his father, will also crowd around him.” As the result of his
reign, there will be no “cloudy foreheads,” and “no contracted
brows;”—in fact, a “new world” will “begin,” and a “golden age”
commence.

This is the substance of Samuel Wesley’s poem. The young prince is most
lavishly extolled; but the only praise bestowed on the father is that he
was “_great_,” and perhaps “brave” and loving. At first sight, the poem
seems to clash with the statement that Samuel Wesley had resolved,
twelve months before, to yield to James nothing more than mere
obedience; but, in reality, there is no such collision. Wesley had no
sympathy with James’s tyrannical proceedings; but, at the same time, he
could not deny, what most historians acknowledge, that James was a knave
rather than a fool. If James’s reign was still continued, he would take
no part against him; and if James was succeeded by his infant son, he
augurs and hopes that he will be able to give brightness to foreheads at
present “cloudy,” and to smooth the brows which are now contracted; in
short, that he will be able to defend the throne of his father, and to
give peace to Europe.

We have felt it necessary to go at greater length than we wished into
this part of Samuel Wesley’s history, because of the importance which
has been attached to it by a most able article on “The Ancestry of the
Wesleys,” in the _London Quarterly Review_ for April 1864. Our
conviction is, that Samuel Wesley was an intensely loyal man; and that,
notwithstanding all the outrageous tyranny of King James, he would never
have taken part against him; but when James ignominiously fled, and
William and Mary, by the voice of the nation, were proclaimed his
successors, Wesley felt that he owed to them the loyalty and obedience
that he had paid to James; and, to use his own words, as a proof of his
loyalty, he wrote, in answer to an out-of-door speech, the first defence
of the government that appeared after William and Mary’s accession; and
afterwards published many other pieces, both in prose and verse, having
the same end in view.[27]

-----

Footnote 27:

  I have examined a large number of pamphlets published at this period,
  hoping to find the “first defence” of Samuel Wesley. A list of some of
  these will be found in Appendix B. I incline to think that Mr Wesley’s
  is in that list, but I am not sure.—L. T.

-----




                               CHAPTER V.
                      NATIONAL AFFAIRS—1685–1688.


A quarter of a century was the time that Charles II. occupied the throne
of Great Britain. His reign was a continued scene of royal perfidy and
sensual dissipation. He was a deceiver, a despot, and a defiler. He was
the slave of women, and his court was the school of vice. For
five-and-twenty years he played the hypocrite, by professing himself an
orthodox Protestant, when, all the while, he was, in fact, an infidel.
In all the relations of life, public and private, he was unprincipled,
profligate, false, vicious, and corrupt; whilst, from the example of his
debauched and licentious court, public morals contracted a taint which
it required little less than a century to obliterate, and which for a
time wholly paralysed the character of the nation.[28] He had good
talents, and in society was kind, familiar, communicative; but he was
indolent, negligent of the interests of the nation, careless of its
glory, averse to its religion, jealous of its liberty, lavish of its
treasure, and sparing only of its blood. It has been remarked of him,
and with some amount of reason, that he never said a foolish thing, nor
ever did a wise one. He had enormous vices, without the tincture of any
virtue to correct them. He died in 1685, begging forgiveness of his
neglected queen, blessing his bastard children, asking for kindness to
be shown to his mistresses, and receiving from a popish priest the
Romish communion, extreme unction, and a popish pardon.[29]

-----

Footnote 28:

  _Ency. Brit._, “Great Britain.”

Footnote 29:

  John Wesley says of him:—“He was in every respect a consummate
  hypocrite, equally void of piety, mercy, honesty, and gratitude. Under
  a cover of gentleness he was cruel and revengeful to a high degree. He
  was abandoned to all vices. A worse man never sat on the English
  throne.”—WESLEY’S _History of England_, vol. iii., p. 316.

-----

The Duke of York succeeded his brother Charles II. to the throne, under
the title of James II., in the spring of 1685. On the very first Sunday
after his accession he went to mass with all the ensigns of royalty.
While he was a subject, James was in the habit of hearing mass, with
closed doors, in a small oratory which had been fitted up for his popish
wife; but now that he was king, he ordered the doors to be thrown wide
open, so that all who came to pay him homage might see the superstitious
ceremonial. Soon, also, a new pulpit was erected in the palace, and,
during Lent, sermons were preached there by popish divines, to the great
disgust of zealous Protestants.

One of the first acts of James was to throw open the prisons of England,
and to set at liberty thousands of Dissenters and Papists, who had been
enduring a horrible captivity for conscience’ sake.

Two months after James’s coronation, the Earl of Argyle and the Duke of
Monmouth, by previous concert, invaded Scotland and England with a small
force from Holland; the former to re-establish the Covenant, and the
latter to secure the Protestant religion, and to deliver the country
from the tyranny of its enthroned monarch. Argyle sent the fiery cross
from hill to hill in Scotland, and from clan to clan, until he got 2500
Highlanders to join him. In a few days he was betrayed by his guides,
and was made a prisoner. His hands were tied behind him, and, with his
head bare, and the headsman marching before him, he was carried to his
old cell in Edinburgh Castle, and, on June 30, was beheaded. Monmouth,
in England, met with a much more general welcome than Argyle found in
Scotland. All classes of the people welcomed him as a deliverer sent
from heaven. The poor rent the air with their joyful acclamations, and
the rich opened their houses and supplied his army with meat and drink.
His path was strewn with flowers; and windows, as he passed through
towns, were crowded with ladies waving their handkerchiefs. On the 20th
of June, at Taunton, he took the title of king; but, after marching
through several parts of the West of England, his army was scattered,
and he was ignominiously captured in a ditch, disguised as a peasant,
with a few peas in his pocket, and himself half buried among ferns and
nettles. With almost abject meanness, he implored pardon at the hands of
James his uncle, but without effect, for, fifteen days after Argyle was
beheaded in Edinburgh, Monmouth was decapitated on Tower Hill.

Immediately after Monmouth’s death, Judge Jeffreys was sent to hold his
“bloody assizes” in the west. His first victim was Mrs Lisle, widow of
one of the Commonwealth judges. The charge against her was that of
giving shelter to two of Monmouth’s fugitives. For this, Jeffreys
sentenced her to be burnt alive, and further ordered that the sentence
should be executed on the very day that his foul mouth uttered it. The
clergy of Winchester promptly interfered; three days’ respite were wrung
from the hard-hearted judge; and the venerable matron was beheaded
instead of being burnt. From Winchester this brutal being went to
Dorchester, on the same murderous business. Here the court, by order of
Jeffreys, was hung with scarlet; more than three hundred persons were
waiting to be tried; two hundred and ninety-two received sentence of
death, but only about eighty were hanged, the rest being imprisoned,
severely whipped, or transported. Those that were transported were sold
as slaves; and the bodies of those that were hanged were cut into
quarters, and stuck up on gibbets. For this bloody work, and while he
was yet at Dorchester, Jeffreys was rewarded and encouraged by his
applauding and grateful sovereign, who raised him from the seat of Lord
Chief-Justice to that of Lord Chancellor. Jeffreys, blushing with his
new honours, now went from Dorchester to Exeter, where another red list
of two hundred and forty-three prisoners was laid before him, most of
whom in a few days were hanged, drawn, and quartered. At Taunton, nearly
eleven hundred prisoners were arraigned for high treason. Ten hundred
and forty confessed themselves guilty; only six ventured to put
themselves on trial; and two hundred and thirty-nine, at the very least,
were executed with astounding rapidity. To spread the terror more
widely, these executions took place in not fewer than thirty-six
different towns and villages. The dripping heads and gory limbs of the
deceased were fixed in the most conspicuous places,—in the streets, by
the highways, over town halls, and over the very churches. At every spot
where two roads met, in every market-place, and on the green of every
village that had furnished Monmouth with men, ironed corpses clattered
in the wind, or heads and quarters of human beings, stuck on poles,
poisoned the air, and made the passing traveller sick with horror. The
country, for a stretch of sixty miles, from Bristol to Exeter, was
studded with a new and terrible sort of sign-posts, adorned with the
mangled bodies of its slaughtered inhabitants. The wretched Jeffreys
boasted, when he returned to London, that in his “bloody campaign” he
had hanged more men than all the judges of England had hanged since the
time of William the Conqueror.

All these murderous proceedings of Judge Jeffreys had the approbation of
King James, and he continued to be one of the king’s principal advisers
in all the oppressions and arbitrary measures of his despotic reign.
Four years after his legalised massacres in the West of England,
Jeffreys wished to steal away to a foreign country, there to hide
himself and his ill-gotten wealth from the detestation of mankind; but
before he could fulfil his purpose, he was arrested and imprisoned in
the Tower. The rabble gathered before his deserted mansion, and read on
the door, with shouts of laughter, the bills which announced the sale of
his property. Even delicate women, who had tears for highwaymen and
housebreakers, breathed nothing but vengeance against him. The street
poets portioned out all his joints with cannibal ferocity, and computed
how many pounds of steaks might be cut from his well-fattened carcase.
He was exhorted to hang himself with his garters, and to cut his throat
with his razor. His spirit, as mean in adversity as it had been insolent
and inhuman in prosperity, sunk under the load of public abhorrence. His
constitution, originally bad and much impaired by drunkenness, was
completely broken by distress and by anxiety. He was tortured by a cruel
internal disease, which baffled the doctors’ skill. One—only one solace
was left to him—brandy. Disease, assisted by strong drink and by misery,
did its work with great rapidity. The poor wretch dwindled, in a few
weeks, from a portly and even corpulent man to a skeleton; and on the
10th of April 1689, he died at the early age of forty-one.[30]

-----

Footnote 30:

  Macaulay.

-----

But to return. It is a striking coincidence, that about the time when
Judge Jeffreys was holding his “bloody assizes” in the West of England,
King Louis of France was revoking the tolerant edict of Nantes, and
driving thousands of his Huguenot subjects to England and other lands of
exile. Other curious and important events happened in James’s short
reign, which our space permits to be only mentioned. For instance,
Dryden, the greatest writer of the day, turned Catholic, perhaps to
please the royal Papist sitting on the throne; but Jeffreys refused to
do so, on the ground that, when he was in Africa, he promised the
Emperor of Morocco that, if he ever changed his religion, he would
become a Turk. Another pro-papistical act was this,—King James,
asserting a repealing power over all laws and Acts of Parliament, took
upon himself not only to dismiss Protestants from the highest civil and
military offices, but to put Papists into their places. He likewise gave
the revenues of the Church in Ireland, to a great extent, to popish
bishops and priests, and not merely permitted, but commanded them to
wear their canonicals in public. He cashiered four thousand Protestant
soldiers, stripped them of their uniforms, and left them to wander
hungry and half-naked through the land; their officers, for the most
part, retiring into Holland, and rallying round the Prince of Orange
there.

All this excited anxiety, and, at length, the pulpits, even of High
Churchmen, and despite the dogma of passive obedience, began to resound
with warnings and denunciations. James now suspended Compton, Bishop of
London; attempted to convert his daughter, the Princess Anne, to the
popish religion; and tried to deprive his daughter Mary, the Princess of
Orange, of her right to the succession. He endeavoured to obtain the
control of the public seminaries, schools, and colleges; and to appoint
Papists to be their officers. Four popish bishops were publicly
consecrated in the Chapel Royal,—were sent to their dioceses with the
titles of vicars apostolical; their pastoral letters being also
licensed, printed, and dispersed throughout the kingdom. James likewise
issued letters mandatory to the bishops of England, prohibiting the
clergy to preach upon points of controversy, and establishing an
ecclesiastical commission with more power than had been possessed by the
abominable court over which Laud presided.

At the beginning of 1687, a declaration of indulgence was issued by
proclamation at Edinburgh, “We, by our _sovereign authority, prerogative
royal, and absolute power_, do hereby give and grant our royal
toleration. We allow and tolerate the moderate Presbyterians to meet in
their private houses, and to hear such ministers as have been, or are
willing to accept of our indulgence, but they are not to build
meeting-houses, but to exercise in houses. We tolerate Quakers to meet
in their form in any place, or places, appointed for their worship: and
we, by our sovereign authority, suspend, stop, and disable, all laws or
Acts of Parliament made or executed against any of our Roman Catholic
subjects, so that they shall be free to exercise their religion and to
enjoy all; but they are to exercise in houses or chapels: and we cass,
annul, and discharge all oaths by which our subjects are disabled from
holding offices.”[31]

-----

Footnote 31:

  Knight’s _Pictorial History_

-----

On the 4th of April, 1687, “a declaration for liberty of conscience,”
came out in the _Gazette_, by which all the penal laws against
Protestant Nonconformists, as well as Catholics, were to be suspended.
The declaration gave leave to all men to meet and serve God after their
own manner, publicly as well as privately; it denounced the royal
displeasure, and the vengeance of the laws against all who should
disturb any religious worship; and it granted a free pardon to all the
king’s loving subjects from penalties, forfeitures, and disabilities
incurred on account of religion and the penal laws.

About the same time, King James went to Oxford, and, in the exercise of
his popish inclinations and despotic principles, made the disgraceful
exhibition of himself, in Magdalen College, which was witnessed by
Samuel Wesley, and which is related in Chapter IV.

Twelve months after, on April 27, 1688, he published another declaration
of indulgence, in substance the same as the two above mentioned; but
which went a step farther, for not only was the declaration published,
but all the clergy were commanded to read it in their churches. This was
the spark that set fire to the train, which had been accumulating for
many months.

National patience was exhausted. These indulgences were right enough in
principle; but there were two great objections to their being published.
First, it was a most unconstitutional and outrageous stretch of royal
authority to pretend, “by virtue of our _sovereign authority,
prerogative royal, and absolute power_,” to “_suspend, stop_, and
_disable_ laws and Acts of Parliament,” without parliamentary consent.
And, secondly, it was well known that, in publishing these
unconstitutional declarations, James was not actuated with the least
wish to do justice to Protestant Nonconformists; but chiefly, if not
exclusively, desired the toleration of his own sect, the Papists; and
hoped that this might be a preparatory step to the triumphant
establishment of the Popish Church. James’s conduct in Scotland, where
he had hacked to pieces so many Protestants, could not be forgotten, but
spoke far more loudly than the hollow-hearted language of his indulgent
declarations; besides, the loud denunciations of James’s Lord
Chancellor, the bloodthirsty Jeffreys, against all Protestant Dissenters
as king-haters, rebels, and republicans, were still ringing in the
nation’s ears. The people remembered that, within the last three years,
the great and good Richard Baxter, had been committed to the King’s
Bench Prison on the charge of printing his paraphrase of the New
Testament; and had been brought to trial, before Jeffreys, at
Westminster, at the very time that Titus Oates was standing in the
pillory in the New Palace Yard; Jeffreys gleefully exclaiming at the
moment, “If Baxter stood on the other side of Oates’s pillory, I would
say two of the greatest rogues and rascals in the kingdom stood there.”
The people remembered that the insulted Baxter, for his alleged offence,
had been fined five hundred marks, and had been ordered to lie in prison
until the fine was paid; besides being bound to good behaviour for seven
years. They were not able to forget, that, in the very year before the
first declaration was issued, the Protestant Dissenters had again and
again had their private religious meetings, which they had dared to
hold, disturbed and broken up, both in town and country, by the
myrmidons of King James’s government; and that Sir John Hartop, and some
others, at Stoke Newington, had had distresses levied for the payment of
a fine of about £700.[32] For James to pretend friendship to Protestant
Dissenters, in the face of such facts, was a piece of hypocrisy, which
none but a royal simpleton, afflicted with a little mind, and blinded by
prejudice, would have attempted to impose upon the credulity of
intelligent and religious men.

-----

Footnote 32:

  Baxter’s _Life and Times_.

-----

Never, not even under the tyranny of Laud, had the condition of the
Dissenters been so deplorable as it was under James. Never had spies
been so actively employed in detecting congregations; and never had
magistrates, grand-jurors, rectors, and churchwardens been so much on
the alert. It was impossible for the sectaries to pray together without
precautions such as are employed by coiners and receivers of stolen
goods. Places of worship had to be frequently changed. Worship had to be
performed, sometimes just before the break of day, and sometimes at dead
of night. Round the building where the little flock was gathered
together, sentinels were placed to give the alarm if a stranger drew
near. The minister, in disguise, was introduced through the garden and
the back yard. In some houses, there were trap doors, through which, in
case of danger, he might descend. No psalm was sung; and many
contrivances were used to prevent the voice of the preacher, in his
moments of fervour, from being heard outside. And yet, with all this
care, several opulent gentlemen in the suburbs of London were accused of
holding conventicles, and distresses were levied to the amount of many
thousand pounds. Dissenting ministers, however blameless in life,
however eminent for learning and abilities, could not venture to walk
the streets for fear of outrages, encouraged by those whose duty it was
to preserve the peace. Some divines of great fame were in prison;
others, crushed with oppression, had quitted the kingdom; and great
numbers, who had been accustomed to frequent conventicles, repaired to
the parish church.[33]

-----

Footnote 33:

  Macaulay.

-----

What was the result? James commanded that the declaration, published on
the 27th of April 1688, should be read by all the clergy in their
churches, in and about London, on the 20th and 27th of May; and in all
the rest of England and Wales on the 3d and 10th of June following. The
bishops[34] were commanded to be vigilant in enforcing the royal order,
and those who refused to read were to be prosecuted by the
Ecclesiastical Commissioners. The 20th of May arrived; but only seven,
out of a hundred clergymen in London read the declaration, and even they
read with fear and trembling, being groaned at by their congregations.
On the 27th of May the signs of obedience were not more numerous; and a
newly-appointed reader at the Chapel Royal was so much agitated that he
was not able to read the declaration so as to be heard. On the 3d and
10th of June, the mass of the clergy in the provinces and in Wales, were
quite as disobedient as those in the capital. It is said that, at the
time, there were more than ten thousand clergy in the kingdom, and yet
not more than two hundred complied with the royal will.

-----

Footnote 34:

  _Ibid._

-----

And here we must pause, for the purpose of spoiling a very interesting
story respecting Samuel Wesley. The Rev. Henry Moore relates that Samuel
Wesley was strongly solicited by the friends of King James II. to
support the measures of the court in favour of Popery, with a promise of
preferment, if he would comply with the king’s desire. But when the time
came for reading the king’s declaration, he most firmly refused; and
though surrounded by courtiers, soldiers, and informers, he preached a
bold and pointed discourse against it from Daniel iii. 17, 18: “If it be
so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery
furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But if not,
be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor
worship the golden image which thou hast set up.” Unfortunately this
heroic story is untrue. As we shall see shortly, Samuel Wesley was not
ordained a deacon until two months after the declaration was commanded
to be read, and therefore, at the time, was not authorised to preach,
either from such a text, or from any text at all; nor was he in a
position either to read or to refuse to read the king’s declaration.

The story has been repeated by Southey, by Macaulay, by Dr Smith, by Dr
Stevens, and by many other of the leading historians of the age; but, as
just shown, it is utterly without foundation. Henry Moore’s mistake was
a simple and easy one. He attributes to Samuel Wesley a fact which
belongs to the Rev. John Berry, A.M., vicar of Watton, in Norfolk, the
father-in-law of Samuel Wesley, jun. The latter, in a “poem upon a
clergyman lately deceased,” published in 1731, delineates the character
of Mr Berry; and the poem, in substance, contains the story, which has
so long and so often been improperly applied to Samuel Wesley, sen.:—

           “When zealous James, unhappy sought the way,
           T’ establish Rome by arbitrary sway,
           ’Twas then the Christian priest was nobly tried,
           When hireling slaves embraced the stronger side,
           And saintly sects and sycophants complied.
           In vain were bribes shower’d by the guilty crown,
           He sought no favour as he fear’d no frown.
           Nor loudest storms his steady purpose broke,
           Firm as the beaten anvil to the stroke.
           Secure in faith, exempt from worldly views,
           He dared the declaration to refuse;
           Then from the sacred pulpit boldly show’d,
           The dauntless Hebrews true to Israel’s God,
           Who spake regardless of their king’s commands:
           ‘The God we serve can save us from thy hands;
           If not, O monarch, know we choose to die,
           Thy gods alike and threat’nings we defy.
           No power on earth our faith has e’er controll’d,
           We scorn to worship idols, though of gold.’
           Resistless truth damp’d all the audience round,
           The base informer sicken’d at the sound;
           Attentive courtiers conscious stood amazed,
           And soldiers silent trembled as they gazed.
           No smallest murmur of distaste arose,
           Abash’d and vanquish’d seem’d the Church’s foes.
           So when like zeal their bosoms did inspire,
           The Jewish martyrs walk’d unhurt in fire!”[35]

-----

Footnote 35:

  Poems by S. Wesley, jun., London, 1736.

-----

We are not sure that even this was intended to be considered as the
description of a fact actually occurring in the history of the poet’s
father-in-law. It might be nothing more than a poetical and general
description of the position taken by the ten thousand clergy, who
refused to read King James’s declaration. Anyhow, for the reason already
mentioned, it could not be true of Samuel Wesley, sen. No doubt Samuel
Wesley was as brave a man as ever lived; and had he been placed in the
circumstances, stated by Henry Moore, he would have had sufficient
courage to act as it is alleged he did. He regarded King James as a
tyrant; and his views of the king’s declaration may be fairly gathered
from the following question and answer in the _Athenian Oracle_:—[36]

“_Ques._ What think you of the liberty of conscience granted in the late
reign? Was it procured by the Catholics out of any design, or purely for
the good and peace of the subjects?

“_Ans._ It is contrary to reason to believe that any true and zealous
Papist can be for liberty of conscience, it being a fundamental of their
religion, that all who differ from them in matters of faith are
heretics, and ought to be destroyed. And, as it is natural for every
persuasion to plead for liberty when they are denied it, and cannot have
the freedom to serve God in their own method, so likewise, experience
teaches us, that if the wheel turns, these very men which abhorred
persecution, are no sooner in power but immediately endeavour by force
to bring others to a compliance with what they profess. And if we find
this error amongst the mildest and most charitable persuasions, we dare
confidently affirm it would not have been otherwise with Roman
Catholics, since they look upon the converting of heretics to be no
small meritorious work.”

-----

Footnote 36:

  Vol. ii., p. 60.

-----

But leaving the ten thousand clergymen who refused to read King James’s
declaration, and also abstaining from any further notice of the
apochryphal story concerning Samuel Wesley’s bravery, we must now return
to the declaration itself.

James commanded this royal manifesto to be read in churches, and charged
the bishops to take care that his mandate was obeyed. Two days before
the time when the declaration was to be first read, six of the bishops
met the primate, Sancroft, at his palace at Lambeth; and there, with the
assent of the ex-minister Lord Clarendon, and of Tillotson,
Stillingfleet, Patrick, Tennison, Grove, and Sherlock, esteemed the best
preachers and writers in the Church, it was privately resolved that a
petition, prepared by Sancroft, should be forthwith presented to his
Majesty. The petition, which was delivered on the evening of the same
day, humbly showed that the objection of the clergy to read the
declaration did not arise from their want of obedience to the king, nor
yet from any want of tenderness to Dissenters; but because the
declaration was founded upon a dispensing power in the king, which had
often been declared illegal in parliament. James read the petition, and
coolly folded it up, and then, with disdain and anger, said, “This is a
great surprise to me. This is a standard of rebellion.” The bishops
protested against such an interpretation. James kept muttering, “Is this
what I have deserved from the Church of England? I will remember you who
have signed this paper. I will be obeyed.” On the morrow, as he was on
his way to mass, he met the Bishop of St David’s. “My lord,” cried he,
“your brethren have presented the most seditious paper that was ever
penned. It is a trumpet of rebellion.”

Three weeks after, the seven bishops were summoned before the Privy
Council, to answer a charge of high misdemeanour, and were committed to
the Tower. They were conveyed from Whitehall by water, and were followed
by the tears and prayers of thousands. Both banks of the Thames were
lined with multitudes, who fell on their knees, beseeching God to
protect the sufferers for religion and liberty. The very soldiers in the
Tower acted as mourners; and even the Nonconformists, who had felt all
the bitterness of Episcopal persecution, sent a deputation of ten of
their ministers to wait upon, and condole with the prisoners.
Twenty-eight peers were ready to bail them; and messages were brought
over from Holland, assuring them of the sympathy of the Prince and
Princess of Orange.

A week later, on the 15th of June, they were brought before the King’s
Bench, by a writ of habeas corpus. An immense concourse of people
received them on the bank of the river, and followed them to Westminster
Hall, the greater part falling upon their knees, wishing them happiness,
and asking their blessing. Within the court, the bishops found the peers
who offered to be their sureties, and a crowd of gentlemen attached to
their interests. They were charged with a seditious libel. They pleaded
“Not Guilty.” The trial was then postponed for a fortnight.

At the expiration of that time, the bishops again entered Westminster
Hall, surrounded by lords and gentlemen, and followed by prayers and
blessings. The trial began at nine o’clock in the morning. At seven in
the evening, the jury retired to consider their verdict, and were locked
up all night. At nine next morning, they returned the verdict “Not
Guilty.” The noblemen, gentlemen, and people within the court raised a
loud huzza. This was echoed back by a louder huzza from those without.
As the bishops passed to the river side, there was a lane of people, all
on their knees, to beg their benediction. Sixty earls and lords were
present, joining in the jubilations of the people. At night London was
lighted from end to end with blazing bonfires, all the church bells were
ringing, and the Pope was burned in effigy before the windows of the
royal palace. The excitement was amazing. James’s popish and despotic
reign was doomed. The royally-applauded atrocities of Judge Jeffreys,
which made the land a shambles, and turned the law itself into the
bloodiest of tyrannies, awoke only groans and muttered curses; but the
imprisonment of seven bishops at once brought about a revolution.

Meanwhile, in the same month that the trial of the bishops took place,
the queen was delivered of a fine healthy boy. The Lord Mayor of London
was commanded to provide bonfires and other public rejoicings; but there
were no bonfires now except for persecuted bishops, and the alleged
birth of a prince, instead of being honoured, was pronounced to be a
gross imposture.

The Protestants, Tories as well as Whigs, turned to the Prince of Orange
as their only hope, and an invitation was sent to him to come from
Holland, with an armed force, to call in question the legitimacy of the
pretended new born prince, and to redress the grievances of the nation.
Before the month expired, Prince William had collected 15,000 land
troops, a fleet of seventy ships, and a large train of artillery.

James began to apprehend danger, and attempted to disarm the animosity
of the people by concessions. He even condescended to consult with the
seven bishops whom he had so recently harassed. He replaced the
Protestant deputy-lieutenants and magistrates. He gave back to the city
of London its old charter, and restored Compton to his Episcopal office.

On the 3d of October, the primate and eight bishops waited upon the
king, and endeavoured to bring him back “to the religion in which he had
been baptized and educated;” but, just at that time, the infant, whose
birth had helped to increase the storm, was baptized, with great pomp,
according to the rites of the Church of Rome. The Pope, represented by
his nuncio, was godfather to the child, and the baptism of James Francis
Edward, with full particulars of the ceremony, was published in the
_Gazette_. This added fresh elements to the storm which was already
raging, and the bastardy of the unlucky child was sung in scurrilous
songs in the streets of London.

On October 16th, William of Orange set sail, his ship bearing the
British flag, which was emblazoned with the motto, “I will maintain the
Protestant religion, and the liberties of England.” James soon found
that his game was ended, and that there was nothing left for him but an
ignominious flight. William came safe to anchor at Torbay, and landed on
the 5th of November, the anniversary of the discovery of the Gunpowder
Plot. Exactly five weeks after, the queen, disguised as an Italian lady,
fled with the infant prince across the Thames to Lambeth, being lighted
on her dolorous way by the flames of burning popish chapels. From
Lambeth, she and her child were conveyed in a coach to Gravesend, where
they entered a yacht, which landed them at Calais. In less than
twenty-four hours the stupified king fled after them, throwing the great
seal of England into the river as he crossed to the Surrey side. At
Faversham he embarked in a custom-house hoy. The boat encountered a
storm, and was obliged to put in at the Isle of Sheppy. There the people
seized the disguised monarch, under the idea that he was a fugitive
Jesuit, treated him with rudeness, and dragged him back a prisoner to
Faversham. At Faversham he was subjected to further indignities, the mob
calling him a “hatchet-faced Jesuit.” At length he was rescued by Lord
Winchelsea out of the rude hands of sailors, smugglers, and fishermen,
and actually came back to London, and invited his son-in-law, the Prince
of Orange, to meet him, for the purpose of amicably settling the
distractions of the nation. The invitation was declined; and, on
December 23d, James again set sail for France, where he landed two days
after; and thus was England happily delivered from the popish,
perfidious, dissolute, and despotic dynasty of the Stuarts.[37] Seven
weeks afterwards both Houses of Parliament agreed to the resolution,
“That William and Mary, Prince and Princess of Orange, be, and be
declared, King and Queen of England, France, and Ireland, and the
dominions thereto belonging.”

-----

Footnote 37:

  The following is John Wesley’s character of King James: “He appears to
  have been proud, haughty, vindictive, cruel, and unrelenting; and
  though he approved himself an obedient subject, he certainly became
  one of the most intolerable sovereigns that ever reigned over a free
  people. He could have no true religion, at least while in England, as
  he made no conscience at all of adultery. He is said afterwards to
  have been a new man. Probably the loss of his crown was the saving of
  his soul.”—WESLEY’S _History of England_, vol. iii., p. 348.

-----

It was in the midst of this national revolution that Samuel Wesley left
the University of Oxford, and became an ordained clergyman of the Church
of England.

Perhaps this digression may be thought too long, and yet, at the risk of
wearying the reader’s patience still further, a few more sketches of the
state of the country, at this momentous period of its history, are
added. They are chiefly taken from Macaulay, and it is hoped that they
may help to convey some idea of the condition of affairs when Samuel
Wesley commenced his ministry. Things at that time were widely different
from what they are at present, and that must be borne in mind if the
reader wishes rightly to understand the difficulties and discouragements
of a Christian minister like the subject of this biography.

London, where Wesley first entered upon the duties of his sacred office,
was, comparatively speaking, a small, dirty, ill-built town. In the
east, no part of the immense line of warehouses and artificial lakes,
which now spreads from the Tower to Blackwall, had even been projected.
On the west, scarcely one of those stately piles of building, which are
inhabited by the noble and the wealthy, was in existence; and Chelsea,
now peopled by tens of thousands of human beings, was then a quiet
country village. On the north cattle fed, and sportsmen wandered with
dogs and guns over the site of the borough of Marylebone, and over far
the greater space now covered by the boroughs of Finsbury and the Tower
Hamlets. Islington was almost a solitude; and poets loved to contrast
its silence and repose with the din and turmoil of the monster London.
On the south, the capital was connected with its suburbs by a single
line of irregular arches, impeding the navigation of the river, and
overhung by piles of mean and crazy houses. In Covent Garden a filthy
and noisy market was held close to the dwellings of the great. Fruit
women screamed, carters fought, and cabbage stalks and rotten apples
accumulated in heaps at the thresholds of the Countess of Berkshire and
of the Bishop of Durham. The centre of Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields was an open
space, where the rabble congregated every evening to hear mountebanks
harangue, to see bears dance, and to set dogs at oxen. St James’s Square
was a receptacle for all the offal and cinders, and for all the dead
cats and dead dogs of Westminster. The pavement of London was
detestable, and the drainage so bad that, in rainy weather, the gutters
soon became torrents. The houses were not numbered. The shops were
distinguished by painted signs, gay and grotesque. The walk from Charing
Cross to Whitechapel lay through an endless succession of Saracens’
Heads, Royal Oaks, Blue Bears, and Golden Lambs. When the evening closed
in, garret windows were opened, and pails were emptied, with little
regard to those who walked on the path below. Most of the streets were
left in profound darkness, where thieves plied their trade with
impunity, and dissolute young gents broke windows, upset sedans, beat
quiet men, and offered rude caresses to pretty women.

Nothing like the London daily newspaper of our time existed, or could
exist. Both the necessary capital and the necessary skill were wanting.
No newspaper was published oftener than twice a week; and none exceeded
in size a single small leaf. The quantity of matter which one of them
contained in a year was not more than is often found in two numbers of
the _Times_. There were no provincial newspapers whatever. Indeed,
except in the capital and at the two universities, there was scarcely a
printer in the kingdom; and the only printing press in England, north of
the river Trent, appears to have been at York.

In the country, many thousands of square miles, now enclosed and
cultivated, were marsh, forest, and heath. The peasant kept a flock of
geese on what is now an orchard rich with apple blossoms. He snared wild
fowl on the fen which has long since been drained, and divided into corn
and turnip fields. He cut turf among the furze bushes on the moor, which
is now a meadow, bright with clover, and renowned for its butter and its
cheese. The market-place, which the rustic can now reach with his cart
in an hour, was then a day’s journey from his home. On the best lines of
communication, the ruts of the roads were deep, the descents
precipitous, and the way often such as it was hardly possible to
distinguish, in the dusk, from the unenclosed heath and fen which lay on
both sides. It was only in fine weather that the whole breadth of the
road was available; for, in wet, the mud lay deep both on the right and
the left, and only a narrow track of firm ground rose above the quagmire
on each hand. Almost every day coaches stuck fast, until teams of cattle
could be procured from some neighbouring farm, to tug them out of the
slough in which they were imbedded. On the best highways, heavy goods
were generally conveyed by stage waggons, in the straw of which nestled
a crowd of passengers, who were not able to ride on horseback, and could
not afford to indulge in the luxury of a coach. The expense of
transmitting heavy goods was enormous. From London to Birmingham, the
charge was £7 a ton; and from London to Exeter it was £12. The cost of
conveyance amounted to a prohibitory tax on many useful articles; and
coal, in particular, was never seen except in the districts where it was
produced, or in the districts to which it was conveyed by water. On
by-roads, and generally throughout the country north of York and west of
Exeter, goods were carried by long trains of pack-horses; and a
traveller of humble condition often found it convenient to perform a
journey, mounted on a pack-saddle, and seated between two baskets. The
rich commonly travelled in their own carriages, drawn by at least four
horses, and often by six, because, with a less number, there was great
danger of sticking fast. Flying coaches ran thrice a week from London to
the chief towns; but no stage-coach, indeed no stage-waggon, appears to
have proceeded further north than York, or further west than Exeter. The
ordinary day’s journey of a _flying_ coach was about fifty miles in
summer; and in winter, when the roads were bad and the nights were long,
a little more than thirty. In Cornwall, in the fens of Lincolnshire, and
among the hills and lakes of Cumberland, letters were received only once
a-week; the letter-bags being carried on horseback, day and night, at
the rate of about five miles an hour. Travellers, unless they were
numerous and well armed, ran considerable risk of being stopped and
plundered; for the mounted highwayman was to be found on every main
road, held an aristocratic position in the community of thieves,
appeared in fashionable coffee-houses in the capital, and betted with
men of quality on the race grounds of the country.

Most of Samuel Wesley’s life was spent in rural districts; and therefore
amid the marshes, fens, forests, and heaths, the impassable roads, and
the highway dangers just described. He was an author; but printing
presses in the country did not exist. He was a man of education and of
public spirit; but to obtain a newspaper was almost impossible. He was
the head of a family; but to get coals, and other imported household
comforts at Wroote and at Epworth, was a thing never contemplated. He
was a student; but the difficulty and expense of conveying books from
London to Lincolnshire were so great, that a folio was longer in
reaching its way from Paternoster Row to Epworth, than it now is in
reaching Kentucky. For a poor rector like him to buy and to get books,
was a thing almost impracticable; and to borrow, such as he wanted, was
impossible. Few knights of the shire had libraries so good as may now
universally be found in a servant’s hall, or in the back parlour of a
small shopkeeper. An esquire passed among his neighbours for a great
scholar, if Hudibras, and Baker’s Chronicles, Tarlton’s Jests, and the
Seven Champions of Christendom, lay in his hall window among his fishing
rods and guns. Many lords of manors, in point of education, differed but
very little from their menial servants; and heirs of estates often had
no better tutors than grooms and gamekeepers, and scarce attained
learning enough to sign their names to a mittimus. Their chief serious
employment was the care of their property. They examined samples of
grain, handled pigs, and, on market days, made bargains over a tankard
with corn merchants and drovers. Their chief pleasures were commonly
derived from field sports, and from an unrefined sensuality. Their
oaths, coarse jests, and scurrilous terms of abuse were uttered with the
broadest accent of their province; while the litter of their farm-yards
gathered under the windows of their bed-chambers, and cabbages and
gooseberry bushes grew up to their very doors. These were the kind of
country neighbours which Samuel Wesley was privileged to have for a
period of more than forty years.

The state of the common people may be judged from the state of those
above them. Four-fifths of them, throughout the country, were employed
in agriculture; and four shillings a-week were fair agricultural wages.
There were few articles, important to the working man, as coffee, tea,
sugar, &c., the price of which was not double what it is at present.
Beer was much cheaper; and meat was also cheaper; but the latter was
even then so dear that hundreds of thousands of families scarcely knew
the taste of it. Bread, such as is now given to the inmates of a
workhouse, was then seldom seen, even on the trencher of a shopkeeper or
of a yeoman. The great majority of the nation lived almost entirely on
rye, oats, and barley. Such was the general condition of Samuel Wesley’s
Lincolnshire parishioners.

We refrain, at present, from any lengthy remarks respecting the religion
and morals of the nation. It may be added, however, that the manners of
the people were exceedingly coarse and vicious. The discipline of
workshops, of schools, and of private families was harsh to an extreme.
The implacability of hostile factions was such as, at the present day,
we can scarcely conceive. Sufferers by the law experienced but little
mercy. Put an offender in the pillory, and it was well if he escaped
with his life from the showers of stones and brick-bats thrown at him.
Tie him to the cart’s tail, and the crowd pressed round him, begging the
hangman to give it to the fellow well, and to make him howl. Fights,
compared with which a boxing match is a refined and humane spectacle,
were among the favourite diversions of a large part of the town.
Multitudes assembled to see gladiators hack each other in pieces; and
shouted with delight when one of the combatants lost a finger or an eye.
Prisons were hells on earth, and seminaries of every disease and of
every crime.

It would not be difficult to multiply such facts as these; but enough
has been said to show that when Samuel Wesley began his ministry,
England and the English people were very different from what they are at
present. The Christian minister even now has difficulties and
discouragements; but, as a rule, he is almost a stranger to the trials
encountered by young Wesley. For a penny he has his newspaper every
morning; and for a trifle more he has his monthly review and magazine.
He lives in an age when even the poorest of his parishioners will hardly
deign to ride in the stage-waggon, but all aspire to be conveyed by the
swift railway train. Books are published by millions; and circulating
libraries, in one shape or in another, may be found in almost every
hamlet of the land. Education is general; and not merely country
squires, but country peasants, study classical and scientific books.
Work is plentiful; and, except in a few bucolic districts, wages are
sufficient to make the poor man’s cottage a neat and a happy home. It
was otherwise one hundred and seventy-seven years ago, when Samuel
Wesley, a young man of twenty-six years of age, first entered upon the
office and duties of a clergyman of the Church of England.

[This chapter is chiefly taken from Macaulay, from Knight, from the
_Encyclopædia Britannica_, and from Baxter’s _Life and Times_.]




                              CHAPTER VI.
                   ORDINATION AND MARRIAGE—1688–1689.


Mr Wesley took his degree of Bachelor of Arts at Oxford on the 19th of
June 1688. Exactly seven weeks afterwards, he was ordained a deacon of
the Church of England. He writes: “I tarried in Exeter College, though I
met with some hardships I had before been unacquainted with, till I was
of standing sufficient to take my Bachelor’s degree; and not being able
to subsist there afterwards, I came to London during the time of my Lord
Bishop of London’s suspension by the High Commission, and was instituted
into deacon’s orders by my Lord Bishop of Rochester, at his palace at
Bromley, August 7, 1688.” It is an incident worth remembering, that Mr
Wesley left Oxford during the trial of the seven bishops, and was
ordained amid the intense excitement which arose out of that event.

In the above quotation he makes mention of his “hardships” in Exeter
College. We are left to guess what the hardships were; but remembering
that, when he entered, all the money he had was only about forty
shillings—remembering that he remained in the college for nearly five
years,—and remembering that, for that, length of time, he had to support
himself by serving others; and that the only assistance he received from
his friends was a five shillings piece, there can be no difficulty in
perceiving that his collegiate life must have been no ordinary struggle.

Mr Wesley was ordained a deacon at Bromley by the Bishop of Rochester,
the well-known Dr Thomas Sprat. This prelate was a man of considerable
eminence. He began life as a fellow of Wadham College, Oxford, where, on
the death of Oliver Cromwell, he gave a specimen of his poetical talents
in an “Ode to the Happy Memory of the late Lord Protector.” He
subsequently became a fellow of the Royal Society, chaplain to George,
Duke of Buckingham, chaplain in ordinary to King Charles II., canon of
Windsor, Dean of Westminster, clerk of the closet to King James II.,
dean of the Chapel Royal, and Bishop of Rochester. He was an intimate
friend of the poet Cowley, who, by his last will, left to his care his
printed works and MSS. His preferment to the bench of bishops was
considered as a reward for the service he rendered in drawing up, at the
command of King Charles II., an account of the Rye House Plot. His known
sympathy for James II. brought upon him a large amount of popular
indignation; so much so that, at the trial of the seven bishops, while
the air rang with loud huzzas for the persecuted prelates, it was also
filled with execrations against Sprat and his fawning associates.
Strangely enough, it was just at this time that Sprat ordained Samuel
Wesley. An odd incident happened four years afterwards. His principles
being so well known, Bishop Sprat was involved with others in an
information laid before the Privy Council of a pretended conspiracy for
restoring James II. Sprat was arrested, and kept under a strict guard
for eleven days, but effectually cleared himself of the accusation. He
was so much affected, however, by the danger to which it had exposed
him, that, to the end of his days, he commemorated his deliverance by an
annual thanksgiving. He died in 1713. Though somewhat of a time-server,
he was a man of great ability. Dunton, in his “Characters of Eminent
Conformists,” is most extravagant in praising him: his style is
matchless, his wit flowing, his thoughts deep, and his poems beautiful.

             “Nature rejoiced beneath his charming power;
             His lucky hand made everything a flower.
             On earth the king of wits, (they are but few,)
             And, though a bishop, yet a preacher too.”

Samuel Wesley was ordained a priest of the Church of England, by Dr
Compton, in St Andrew’s Church, Holborn, on February 24, 1689. This was
twelve days after the Prince and Princess of Orange were declared by
parliament to be King and Queen of Great Britain.

Compton was a man even more remarkable than Sprat. He was the youngest
son of Spencer, Earl of Northampton. On leaving the university, he went
to the Continent, for the purpose of perfecting himself in the modern
languages. After the restoration of Charles II., he became cornet of a
regiment of horse; but soon resigned his commission, and devoted himself
to the service of the church. He successively became Canon-commoner of
Christ-Church College, Rector of Cottenham, Master of St Crosse’s
Hospital, Canon of Christ-Church, Bishop of Oxford, Dean of the Royal
Chapel, and finally Bishop of the diocese of London. He was intrusted
with the education of the two princesses, Mary and Anne, whom he also
afterwards married to the Princes of Orange and Denmark; and their
firmness in the Protestant religion was in a great measure owing to his
instructions. For his steadfast opposition to Popery, and for refusing
to become an instrument of ecclesiastical tyranny among the clergy of
his diocese, he was suspended, by James II., from his Episcopal office,
his name was struck from the list of the Privy Council, and he was
deprived of his office as Dean of the Royal Chapel. His suspension was
the reason why Samuel Wesley was ordained a deacon by the chameleon-like
Dr Sprat. On the invasion of the Prince of Orange, he was restored to
his Episcopal functions; he performed the ceremony of crowning King
William and Queen Mary; was appointed one of the Commissioners for
revising the Liturgy; and laboured with much zeal to reconcile
Dissenters to the Established Church. His spirit of moderation made him
unpopular with the clergy, and, in all probability, checked his further
promotion. He died in the same year as Bishop Sprat, at the age of
eighty-one. Through the whole of a long life, he was exemplary in his
moral conduct, and displayed the manners of a gentleman. He was a warm
friend, a generous patron, a respectable writer, a faithful bishop, but
a dull and inanimate preacher. Such were the two prelates who ordained
Samuel Wesley.

At the time that Mr Wesley entered upon his ministerial career, there
were, in the English Church, some of the most distinguished divines that
it has ever had. There was Stillingfleet, Bishop of Worcester, a prelate
of great learning and piety, and whose “Origines Sacræ” and “Origines
Britannicæ” are still held in high esteem. There was Tillotson, the son
of a Yorkshire clothier, who was raised to the see of Canterbury, and
whose sermons, when published, were regarded as a standard of finished
oratory, and still rank among the most popular in the English language.
There was the godly Thomas Kenn, Bishop of Bath and Wells, the
well-known author of the “Morning and Evening Hymns.” There was William
Sancroft, who took an active part in repairing St Paul’s Cathedral after
the dilapidations of the civil wars, and in rebuilding it after the
great fire of London; one of the seven bishops, who, for bearding King
James II., was committed to the Tower; and who, for refusing the oath of
allegiance to King William, lost his archbishopric; a timorous, but
well-meaning man, laborious in his studies, and who is said to have
written more with his own hand than any other person of his time. There
was Robert South, a man of immense talents, though of harsh temper and
ungoverned wit. There was Gilbert Burnet, Bishop of Salisbury, a most
industrious writer, and author of the “History of the Reformation.”
There was John Sharp, Archbishop of York, an able preacher, and the
author of seven volumes of valuable sermons. There was Thomas Tennison,
Archbishop of Canterbury, who had the esteem of King James, attended
Queen Mary during her last moments, faithfully reproved King William for
his immoral practices, and officiated at the coronation of Queen Anne
and of King George I.,—an able opponent of the infidel opinions of
Hobbes; a defender of the Established Church against Popery; though not
a brilliant, yet a clear and argumentative writer; and though a plain
yet a forcible preacher. There was William Beveridge, Bishop of St
Asaph, an eminent Oriental scholar, a distinguished theologian, and a
man of great goodness and simplicity. There was White Kennett, a man of
great literary labours, his judgment solid, his style easy, and who died
Bishop of the diocese of Peterborough. There was Daniel Whitby,
profoundly learned, who, in 1703, published in two volumes folio his
able “Commentary on the New Testament,” the result of fifteen years of
close application. There was George Hooper, Bishop of Bath and Wells,
and greatly distinguished both as a writer and divine. William
Fleetwood, Bishop of Ely, an active prelate, an eloquent preacher, and a
learned, industrious, and able writer. William Derham, the able author
of “Physico-Theology.” William Lowth, amiable and erudite, and the
father of the bishop of that name. Thomas Wilson, Bishop of Sodor and
Man, a man of respectable scientific and classical attainments, but
distinguished most for his Christian benevolence. Others might be
mentioned, and, besides these, a large number of other clergy, who,
though not so eminent for their learning and literary productions, were
quite equal for unassuming and zealous piety.

It is scarce credible that, with such bishops at the head of the English
Church, there should not be hundreds of quiet, godly, earnest, useful
ministers, acting under them, all of them of the same sterling character
as Samuel Wesley. It is a great mistake to imagine that, up to the time
of Samuel Wesley’s sons, John and Charles, the English clergy were,
almost without exception, ignorant, indolent, heterodox, worldly, and
wicked. Doubtless there were a large number of such men; but there were
likewise a large number of another and much better class.

At the same period, the Dissenters also had a considerable number of
able and useful preachers. For example, there was Daniel Williams, the
most influential Presbyterian minister of his day; the successor of
Richard Baxter at Pinner’s Hall, the author of six volumes of cumbrous
controversy, and the founder of the magnificent library of Red Cross
Street. There was Daniel Burgess, extremely popular on account of his
quaint and familiar style of pulpit oratory. There was Benjamin Keach,
once sentenced to stand in the pillory for publishing his “Child’s
Instructor,” and whose “Travels of True Godliness” and “Scripture
Metaphors” have been read by myriads; a man whom Dunton represents as
mounted upon an Apocalyptic Beast, with Babylon before him, Zion behind
him, and a hundred thousand bulls and bears roaring and ramping round
about him. There was Vincent Alsop, a man of piety and worth, with a
glowing fancy and a lively wit. There was Matthew Henry, whose labours
as a preacher were almost incessant, and who yet found time to write one
of the largest and most useful Expositions of the Holy Bible ever
published. There was Matthew Sylvester, a man of “godly life and great
ability in the ministerial work,” to whom, as an intimate friend, Baxter
left his “MS. Narrative of his Life and Times.” And there were also
still surviving not a few of the noble Nonconformist ministers ejected
in 1662.

As Samuel Wesley was not only a Christian minister, but likewise an
author of considerable eminence, this attempt at photographing portraits
will scarce be perfect, without a passing glance at the literary and
other celebrities, who were flourishing at the time of Wesley’s
ordination, and with some of whom he ran a literary race.

Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford, was just rising into fame and power, and
preparing the way for the high position which he occupied during the
reign of Anne. John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, was just appointed
commander-in-chief of the British forces. George Byng, the celebrated
admiral, was beginning to display the bravery and the naval skill for
which he is still remembered. John Radcliffe, the renowned physician,
had recently removed to London, where he received from King William,
during the first six years of his reign, nearly eight thousand guineas
for his professional assistance. Isaac Newton, the unrivalled
philosopher, was just elected one of the representatives of the
Cambridge University. Sir Hans Sloane was bringing home eight hundred
species of plants from the West Indies. Richard Bentley, the son of a
Yorkshire blacksmith, had just removed with his pupil, Stillingfleet’s
son, to the Oxford University, having already evinced his amazing powers
as a scholar and a critic. Matthew Prior was writing his poem on the
Deity. Jonathan Swift, having lost his uncle, and being almost
penniless, was applying, by the advice of his mother, to the celebrated
Sir William Temple to afford him shelter, and to find him bread. William
Penn was writing his prolix “Maxims and Reflections on Human Life.” Sir
Godfrey Kneller, with King James before him, was painting a portrait of
that monarch at the very moment when the landing of Prince William was
announced. Grinling Gibbons, whom Evelyn considers the greatest of all
sculptors, was at the zenith of his fame. Sir Christopher Wren was
building St Paul’s Cathedral. Dryden, deprived of his official
emoluments by the abdication of King James, was now writing for bread,
and producing some of the finest pieces he ever published. John Locke,
whom Dr Watts describes as having a soul wide as the sea, calm as the
night, and bright as the day, was finishing his immortal “Essay on the
Human Understanding.” And Robert Boyle, not unworthy to be ranked with
Lord Bacon, acquainted with the whole compass of mathematical sciences,
and from whose works may be deduced the whole system of natural
knowledge, was, as usual, regulating, by a thermometer, the quantity of
clothes he ought to wear.

Such were some of the illustrious men flourishing at this period. We
shall meet with others farther on.

Mr Wesley’s first ecclesiastical appointment was a curacy, with an
income of £28 a-year. He was then appointed chaplain on board a
man-of-war, where his salary was at the rate of £70 a-year, and where he
began his poem on the Life of Christ. He then obtained another curacy in
London, his ecclesiastical income during the two years’ service that he
rendered, being £30 per annum, an amount which he doubled by his
industry and writings. It was while he held this appointment that he
married, he and his wife living in lodgings, until after the birth of
their first-born, Samuel.

The young lady, who became Mr Wesley’s wife, was Susanna Annesley, the
daughter of Dr Annesley, one of the leading Nonconformist ministers of
London.

Dr Annesley was born at Haseley in Warwickshire, in the year 1620. His
father was cousin of the Earl of Anglesea, and died when Samuel was but
four years of age. His education devolved on his pious mother, who
brought him up in the fear of God. From his early childhood his heart
was set on preaching; and, to qualify himself for that sacred work, he
began, when he was only five or six years old, seriously to read the
Bible; and such was his ardour that he bound himself to read twenty
chapters daily, a practice which he continued to the end of life. Though
a child, he never varied from his purpose to become a preacher; nor was
he discouraged by a dream, in which “he thought he was a minister, and
was sent for by the Bishop of London to be burnt as a martyr.” At
fifteen years of age, he went to Queen’s College, Oxford, and there took
the degree of LL.D. When he was twenty-four he became chaplain of his
Majesty’s ship _Globe_, under the command of the Earl of Warwick. Not
liking a seafaring life, he left the navy, and settled at Cliff in Kent,
in the place of a minister who had been sequestered for his scandalous
living; but of whom the rude and ignorant parishioners were so extremely
fond, that when Annesley, his successor, first went among them, they
assailed him with spits, forks, and stones, threatening to take away his
life. In a few years his labours had surprising success, and the people
were greatly reformed.

In July 1648, he was called to London to preach the fast sermon before
the House of Commons, which, by imperial order, was printed. In 1652, he
relinquished his living at Cliff, which was worth £400 a year, and
became minister of the Church of St John the Apostle in London. Five
years after he was made lecturer at St Paul’s, and, in 1658, became
vicar and “soul-servant,” as he terms himself, of St Giles’s,
Cripplegate. He now had two of the largest congregations in the city.
The Cripplegate living was worth £700 per annum.

With two thousand other ministers he was ejected by the Act of
Uniformity, and had his fair share of subsequent persecution. One
magistrate, while signing a warrant to apprehend him, dropped down dead.

Samuel Annesley was a large-hearted man, and was extensively useful. He
had the care of all the Nonconformist churches in the capital upon him;
and was the chief instrument in the education and subsistence of several
ministers, of whose useful labours the church would otherwise have been
deprived.

In 1672, when King Charles, for the sake of the Papists,
unconstitutionally suspended for a little while the penal laws in
matters of religion, Dr Annesley licensed a meeting-house in St Helen’s
Place, Bishopsgate Street, where he raised a large and flourishing
church, of which he continued the pastor until his death. He was the
main support of the morning lecture, and always laid aside a tenth part
of his income for charitable purposes. He had a weekly meeting of
ministers in his vestry at St Helen’s Place; and, once a month, there
were Latin disputations upon theology; but, as these engendered heated
debates among the ministers, they were dropped. In the same
meeting-house at St Helen’s Place, Edmund Calamy was ordained in 1694,
his being the first _public_ ordination among the Dissenters for more
than thirty years. Dr Annesley and five other ministers took part in the
ordination service, which lasted nearly nine hours, from before ten
o’clock in the morning to past six o’clock at night. During the last
thirty years of his life he had uninterrupted peace of spirit, arising
from an uninterrupted assurance of God’s forgiving love. He closed his
useful ministry, of more than fifty-five years’ continuance, December
31st, 1696. His death occurred in Spittal Yard, and he lies interred in
the burial-ground of St Leonard’s, Shoreditch. His funeral sermon was
preached by the Rev. Daniel Williams, and, in an enlarged form, was
published by Dunton in 1697, making a small volume of one hundred and
fifty pages. Williams states in the biography, that Annesley was of so
hale and hardy a constitution, as to endure the coldest weather without
using hat, gloves, or fire. For many years he seldom drank anything but
water, and, to the day of his death, he could read the smallest print
without spectacles. He was an eminently useful man, and, in most things,
a pattern worthy of imitation. A short time before he died his joy was
such that he exclaimed, “I cannot contain it. What manner of love is
this to a poor worm! I cannot express the thousandth part of the praise
due to Christ. I’ll praise Thee, and rejoice that there are others that
can praise Thee better!”

The celebrated Richard Baxter, who was no eulogist, remarks:—“Dr
Annesley is a most sincere, godly, humble man,—an Israelite indeed: one
that may be said to be sanctified from the womb.” Dunton, his
son-in-law, says—“He was a man of wonderful piety and humility. The
great business and the pleasure of his life was to persuade sinners back
to God. His Nonconformity created him many troubles; but they never
altered the goodness and cheerfulness of his humour.” Daniel Defoe was
one of his congregation, and wrote an elegy respecting him, which Dunton
published. Defoe, speaking of his early piety, says:—

              “His pious course with childhood he began,
              And was his Maker’s sooner than his own:
              The heavenly book he made his only school—
              In youth his study, and in age his rule.
              A Moses, for humility and zeal;
              For innocence, a true Nathaniel;
              Faithful as Abraham, or the truer spies;
              No man more honest, and but few so wise:
              Humility was his darling grace,
              And honesty sat regent in his face.
              A heavenly patience did his mind possess—
              Cheerful in pain, and thankful in distress.”

Dr Annesley had a large family. Dunton relates that when Dr Manton was
baptizing one of Annesley’s children, he was asked how many more he had?
he replied, he believed it was either two dozen or a quarter of a
hundred. Of these four or five-and-twenty young Annesleys, however, Dr
Clark could find not more than the names of seven—viz, Samuel, Benjamin,
Judith, Sarah, Ann, Elizabeth, and Susanna. Samuel went abroad in the
service of the East India Company, accumulated a considerable fortune,
and intended to return to England; but, all at once, he suddenly
disappeared, and no account was ever received, either of his person or
of his property. The probability is that he was robbed and murdered.[38]
Benjamin Annesley was “an ingenuous youth,” and was appointed an
executor of his father’s will. Judith was eminently pious, and loved
good books more than other young ladies loved fine clothes. She was
exceedingly beautiful; and refused to marry a gentleman of splendid
fortune because he was addicted to his cups. Of Sarah, we find no
information. Ann was a wit, and was as fine a woman as nature and art
ever formed. She married Mr James Fremantle; and Dunton says, she was
the only person he ever knew whom an estate made more humble. Her life
was one continued act of tenderness, wit, and piety. Elizabeth Annesley
will be mentioned hereafter. Susanna became the wife of Samuel Wesley.

-----

Footnote 38:

  About the year 1720, Samuel Annesley, strangely enough, employed his
  brother-in-law, Samuel Wesley, to act as his agent in England; and the
  result was a serious quarrel. Annesley charged him with having
  received sums of money for which he had never accounted, and for
  having laid out moneys contrary to explicit orders. Mrs Wesley took up
  the matter, and, in a long letter, defended her husband against the
  attacks of her brother. She says, Mr Wesley has orders for the money
  laid out; and that, though his expenses had been great, they were
  honest. Mr Wesley, in attending to Mr Annesley’s business, had been
  compelled to be much from home, and, therefore, had been compelled to
  hire a curate to supply his place. Besides, Annesley had promised him
  a commission for business done on his account during the three years
  Wesley sat in Convocation, but the commission had not been paid. Mrs
  Wesley proposed to refer all their disputes to arbitration; and says,
  that if Mr Wesley is found to be in Mr Annesley’s debt, both she and
  her husband are quite willing for him to sequester the Epworth living
  in payment. Annesley had alleged that the Epworth living was worth
  £300 a-year, and that, on account of the difference in the cost of
  maintenance, this was equal to a living of £ 1000 a-year in London and
  its immediate neighbourhood. Mrs Wesley says, “it may full as truly be
  said that the Epworth living is £10,000 as £300; and even were it
  £300, there is no such difference in the price of provision as to
  justify” Annesley’s computation. In fact, the living did not yield
  them, in clear money, more than £130 a-year; and, all things
  considered, it was quite as costly to live at Epworth as it was to
  live in London. Mrs Wesley then declares that her husband challenges
  the whole world to prove him a knave; that she conceals the wants of
  her family from him as much as possible, because, if he were made
  acquainted with each particular, he would hazard his health, perhaps
  his life, in riding to borrow money, rather than his wife and his
  children should be so distressed. She adds—“He hath not deceived you;
  and, to say the truth, among all his wants sincerity is none. I have
  not reason to complain of his being deceitful, but have often blamed
  him for speaking his mind too freely. You think him too zealous for
  the party he fancies in the right, and that he has unluckily to do
  with the opposite faction. Mr Wesley is not factious. He is zealous in
  a good cause, as every one ought to be; but the furthest from being a
  party man of any man in the world.” The whole of this very long and
  painfully-interesting letter may be read in the _Wesleyan Times_ for
  January 15, 1866.

-----

Having sketched the life of the father of Susanna Wesley, a few lines
must be devoted to her mother. It is a remarkable fact, that as the
father of Samuel Wesley’s mother was named John White, so the father of
Susanna Wesley’s mother was named John White also. Both of them were men
of mark. John White, “the Patriarch of Dorchester,” is brought before
the reader in Chapter II. The other John White, the grandfather of
Susanna Wesley, is too important a character to be overlooked. He was
the son of Henry White, of Heylan, in Pembrokeshire, where he was born,
June 29, 1590. He entered Jesus College, Oxford, when about seventeen
years of age; and, after completing his studies, was admitted to the
Middle Temple, and, in due time, became a member of the Bar, and a
bencher of that society. While a barrister, he was much employed by the
Puritans in the purchase of impropriations, which were to be given to
those of their own party. In 1640, he was elected Member of Parliament
for the borough of Southwark. He now joined in all the proceedings which
led to the overthrow of the Established Church. He was appointed
chairman of the Committee for Religion, and was also a member of the
Westminster Assembly of Divines. In a speech of his, made in the House
of Commons, and published in 1641, he contends that the office of bishop
and presbyter is the same; and that the offices of deacons, chancellors,
vicars, surrogates, and registrars, are all of human origin, and ought
to be abolished, as being altogether superfluous and of no service to
the Church. He says that Episcopacy had been intrusted with the care of
souls for more than eighty years; and now, as a consequence, nearly
four-fifths of the churches throughout the kingdom were held by idle or
scandalous ministers. He alleges that, even during the present
parliament, the House of Commons and its committees had been furnished
with abundant evidence that it was of no use to report “scandalous
ministers” to their bishops, for they received no censure, save a
harmless admonition; while, on the other hand, if the bishops happened
to discover a godly and learned preacher within the limits of their
diocese, they did their utmost to scatter his congregation, and to expel
him from his church. He admits that some of the bishops are good men;
but the bishops who are good men, are all bad bishops,—a sufficient
proof, in his estimation, that the very office is itself a curse.

The speech, from which the above is taken, fills fourteen small quarto
pages, is full of texts of Scripture, and as dry as a lawyer’s eloquence
could make it.

As already stated, John White was appointed chairman of the Committee
for Religion. It was the duty of that committee to receive all petitions
of parishioners against their pastors, with lists of ministerial
misdemeanours. In 1643, one hundred examples of those _scandalous
clergy_ were drawn up by White, and were published in a book, entitled,
“The First Century of Scandalous, Malignant Priests.” In the preface,
White says, “The ensuing summary declaration of the grounds whereupon
Parliament had proceeded against divers ministers to sequester their
benefices from them, and place in their room godly and learned preachers
of the Word of God, may serve many excellent purposes—as 1, To show that
the Episcopal form of church government is evil, and that parliament had
good cause to abolish it; 2, That the bishops had not only neglected
their duties, but had appointed to benefices drunkards, whoremongers,
and adulterers; 3, The book will show what sort of men the clergy are
who favour the king; and 4, The cause of the general ignorance and
debauchery of the gentry and people of this kingdom.”

White then gives the one hundred examples of scandalous parsons. These
examples now lie before us, but they are too gross and defiling to be
reprinted. The curious reader, anxious to know what they are, may find
them in the British Museum, bound up in a volume, given to the Museum by
George III. The pamphlet is quarto, and contains fifty-seven pages.
White promised to publish a “Second Century” of cases, but he either was
unable to find sufficient materials, or perhaps his intention was
frustrated by his death, which occurred a few months after. Eight
thousand clergy were ejected from their livings during the civil wars,
on the ground of heterodoxy, viciousness of life, superstition, or
malignancy against parliament: but White has given the character of one
hundred only. Clarendon says, that petitions were often presented by a
few of the rabble, and against the general sense and judgment of the
parish. He avers that many were designated “scandalous clergy,” who were
men of great gravity and learning, and who lived the most unblemished
lives. He adds, that White was “a grave lawyer, but notoriously
disaffected to the Church.” Of course Clarendon knew the men, but his
party feeling was such that what he says requires to be received with
caution.

John White died shortly after the publication of his “First Century of
Scandalous, Malignant Priests,” viz., on the 29th of January 1644, and
was buried in the Temple Church, where a marble stone was afterwards
placed upon his grave, with this inscription:—

             “Here lyeth a John, a burning, shining light,
             His name, life, actions, were all _White_.”

Such was the grandfather of Susanna Wesley. Her mother was one of whom
but very little has been left on record. She was a woman of sincere
piety. She conscientiously endeavoured to bring up her children in the
nurture and admonition of the Lord. She was greatly loved by her
husband, and both lie buried in the same sacred grave.

After the faithful and beautiful portraiture of Susanna Wesley, recently
published by the Rev. John Kirk, it would be worse than superfluous to
relate her history here. We wish that her letters were published in a
collected form, not only because of their intrinsic excellence, but also
because they would help to depict her refined intellect and her earnest
piety. She was in all respects a remarkable woman. Like her father, she
was godly from childhood. When she died, in 1742, her sons had four
verses inscribed on her tombstone, teaching, if they teach anything,
that she was not received into the divine favour until she attained the
age of seventy. This is a monstrous perversion of facts, and can only be
accounted for on the ground that John and Charles Wesley were so
enamoured of their blessed and newly-discovered doctrines, that as yet
they felt it difficult to think any one to be scripturally converted
except those who had obtained a sense of pardon, and had experienced an
instantaneous change of heart, under circumstances similar to their own.
If Susanna Wesley was not converted many a long year previous to her
death, and previous to the conversion of her sons, we have yet to learn
what conversion is. Having read her letters and her other literary
productions, we are satisfied that, if there ever was a sincere and
earnest Christian, she was one.

Her intellectual was as remarkable as her Christian character. Let any
one read her writings, and, unless he is blinded with prejudice, he will
willingly acknowledge that, for vigorous thought, mental discipline,
clearness of apprehension, logical acumen, extensive theological
knowledge, purity of style, and force of utterance, Susanna Wesley has
few superiors. She was not a poetess, but, if such language may be used
concerning a lady, she was an accomplished scholar, a learned student, a
correct philosopher, and a profound divine. Dr A. Clarke observes, “She
appears to have had the advantage of a liberal education, as far as
Latin, Greek, and French enter into such an education.” Though her
knowledge of these languages might be far from perfect, yet the fact
itself may be taken as an indication of the mental energy of her
character, for at that period female education was most scandalously
neglected. Macaulay writes, “The literary stores of the lady of the
manor and her daughters generally consisted of a prayer-book and a book
of receipts. The English women of that generation were decidedly worse
educated than they have been at any other time since the revival of
learning. If a damsel had the least smattering of literature she was
regarded as a prodigy. Ladies highly born, highly bred, and naturally
quick-witted, were unable to write a line in their mother tongue without
solecisms and faults of spelling, such as a charity girl would now be
ashamed to commit. One instance will suffice. Queen Mary had good
natural abilities, had been educated by a bishop, was fond of history
and poetry, and was regarded by very eminent men as a superior woman,
and yet there is in the library of the Hague a superb English Bible,
which was delivered to her when she was crowned in Westminster Abbey, in
the title page of which are these words, in her own hand, ‘This book was
given the King and _I_ at our _crownation_.—MARIE R.’” In such an age
Susanna Annesley acquired an education embracing in its compass Latin,
Greek, and French.

We pass over the management of her children, and simply add that, as a
wife, she was affectionate and obedient. Writing of her husband, after
they had been more than thirty years married, she says, “Since I have
taken my husband, ‘for better for worse,’ I’ll take my residence with
him; ‘where he lives will I live, and where he dies will I die, and
there will I be buried.’ God do so unto me, and more also if aught but
death part him and me.”

No wonder that Samuel Wesley was passionately attached to such a wife.
She was in her person not only graceful but beautiful. Sir Peter Lely,
the painter of the “beauties” of his age, has left a portrait of her
sister Judith, representing her as a lady of rare charms; and yet one
who knew them both has said, “Beautiful as Miss Annesley appears, she
was far from being as beautiful as Mrs Wesley.” If her husband had not
loved and respected her as much as she loved and respected him, he would
have been unworthy of her. Four years after their marriage, and when
cooped up in the miserable little parsonage at South Ormsby, Mr Wesley
published his “Life of Christ,” in which there is the following poetic
portrait of his noble-hearted wife, and of the sort of life they lived
in their humble hut, near the shores of the German sea:—

         “She graced my humble roof, and blest my life,
         Blest me by a far greater name than wife;
         Yet still I bore an undisputed sway,
         Nor was’t her task, but pleasure, to obey;
         Scarce thought, much less could act, what I denied,
         In our low house there was no room for pride;
         Nor need I e’er direct what still was right,
         She studied my convenience and delight.
         Nor did I for her care ungrateful prove,
         But only used my power to show my love.
         Whate’er she asked I gave, without reproach or grudge,
         For still she reason asked, and I was judge.
         All my commands, requests at her fair hands,
         And her requests to me were all commands.
         To others thresholds rarely she’d incline.
         Her house her pleasure was, and she was mine;
         Rarely abroad, or never, but with me,
         Or when by pity called, or charity.”

Such was the nuptial life of Samuel and Susanna Wesley. They were
married about the year 1689, but where and by whom there is no evidence
to show. For about forty-six years they bravely battled with their
domestic trials, and, after a seven years’ separation, were, in 1742,
reunited in that happy world, where “the wicked cease from troubling and
the weary are at rest.” “No man,” says Southey, “was ever more suitably
mated than Samuel Wesley. The wife whom he chose was, like himself, the
child of a man eminent among the Nonconformists, and, like himself, in
early life she had chosen her own path. She had examined the controversy
between the Dissenters and the Church of England with conscientious
diligence, and satisfied herself that the schismatics were in the wrong.
She had reasoned herself into Socinianism, from which her husband
reclaimed her. She was an admirable woman, an obedient wife, an
exemplary mother, and a fervent Christian. The marriage was blest in all
its circumstances; it was contracted in the prime of their youth; it was
fruitful and death did not divide them till they were full of days.”

[The facts contained in this chapter have been gathered from Clarke’s
_Wesley Family_; Dunton’s _Life and Errors_; Defoe’s _Works_; Knight’s
_History of England_; Baxter’s _Life and Times_; Calamy’s _Nonconformist
Memorials_; Calamy’s _Life and Times_; Clarendon’s _History of the
Rebellion_; Williams’s _Funeral Sermon for Annesley_; Chambers’s
_Biographical Dictionary_; John White’s _Speech in the House of Commons
in 1641_; John White’s _Century of Scandalous Priests_, &c., &c.]




                              CHAPTER VII.
                   THE “ATHENIAN GAZETTE.”—1690–1695.


In 1691 or thereabouts, Mr Wesley was appointed to the parish of South
Ormsby, a neat Lincolnshire village, about eight miles north-west of
Spilsby. It is pleasantly situated, and, in 1821, the parish, including
the adjoining hamlet of Kettlesby, contained thirty-six dwelling-houses,
and two hundred and sixty-one inhabitants, a population probably quite
equal to what it was in the days of Samuel Wesley. The church consists
of a tower, a nave, and a chancel, with a small chapel on the northern
side, and is dedicated to St Leonard.[39]

-----

Footnote 39:

  _History of the County of Lincoln._

-----

This was no serious charge for a young clergyman of twenty-eight years
of age, and possessed of learning and ability like those of Samuel
Wesley; yet here, among his flock of two hundred men, women, and
children, he resided and faithfully laboured for about the next five
years. The living was obtained for him without any solicitation on his
part, by the Marquis of Normanby. Its emoluments were £50 a year, and a
house to live in.[40] The house was little better than a mud-built hut,
and Samuel Wesley in describing it and his own life in it, writes:—

             “In a mean cot, composed of reeds and clay,
             Wasting in sighs the uncomfortable day;
             Near where the inhospitable Humber roars,
             Devouring by degrees, the neighbouring shores.
             Let earth go where it will, I’ll not repine,
             Nor can unhappy be, while heaven is mine.”

-----

Footnote 40:

  Mr Kirk says the living of South Ormsby now brings in more than five
  times that amount.

-----

Here, in this miserable hovel, Wesley and his noble young wife resided.
Here five of their children were born, and here Wesley wrote some of the
most able works he ever published. Samuel Wesley was one of the rural
clergy, but differed widely from the great mass of his brethren, who are
thus described by Macaulay:—

“The rural clergyman, generally, began life as a young Levite, who every
day said grace, at the table of a coarse ignorant squire, in full
canonicals; and received, as pay, his board, a small garret, and ten
pounds a year. In fine weather, he was always ready for bowls; and in
rainy weather, for shovelboard. Sometimes he nailed up apricots, and
sometimes curried coach horses, and cast up farriers’ bills. He was
permitted to dine with the family; but was expected to content himself
with the plainest fare. A waiting woman was generally considered as the
most suitable help-meet for him. Quitting his chaplainship for a
benefice and a wife, he found he had only exchanged one class of
vexations for another. Often it was only by toiling on his glebe, by
feeding swine, and by loading dungcarts, that he could obtain daily
bread; nor did his utmost exertions always prevent the bailiffs from
taking his concordance and his inkstand in execution. It was a white day
on which he was admitted into the kitchen of a great house, and regaled
by the servants with cold meat and ale. His children were brought up
like the children of the neighbouring peasants. His boys followed the
plough, and his girls were sent out to service. Study he found to be
impossible, for the advowson of his living would hardly have sold for a
sum sufficient to purchase a good theological library; and he might be
considered as unusually lucky, if he had ten or twelve dog-cared volumes
among the pots and pans on his household shelves. It is true that at
that time (1685) there was no lack in the English Church of ministers
distinguished by abilities and learning; but these men were to be found,
with scarce a single exception, at the universities, at the great
cathedrals, or in the capital. Barrow had lately died at Cambridge, and
Pearson had gone thence to the Episcopal bench. Cudworth and Henry More
were still living there; South and Pococke, Jane and Aldrich were at
Oxford. Prideaux was at Norwich, and Whitby at Salisbury. In London were
Sherlock, Tillotson, Sprat, Wake, Jeremy Collier, Burnett,
Stillingfleet, Fowler, Sharp, Tennison, and Beveridge. Of these, ten
became bishops and four archbishops. Thus the Anglican priesthood was
divided into two sections—one trained for cities and courts, comprising
men familiar with all ancient and modern learning; men able to encounter
Hobbes or Bossuet at all the weapons of controversy; men who could, in
their sermons, set forth the majesty and beauty of Christianity with
such justness of thought, and such energy of language, that the indolent
Charles roused himself to listen, and the fastidious Buckingham forgot
to sneer; men with whom Halifax loved to discuss the interests of
empires, and from whom Dryden was not ashamed to own that he had learned
to write. The other section was destined to render humbler service. It
was dispersed over the country, and consisted chiefly of persons not at
all wealthier, and not much more refined, than small farmers or upper
servants. And yet, it was in these rustic priests, who derived their
scanty subsistence from their tithe sheaves and tithe pigs, and who had
not the smallest chance of ever attaining high professional honours,
that the professional spirit was strongest. Among those divines, who
were the boast of the universities, and the delight of the capital, a
party leaned towards constitutional principles of government, lived on
friendly terms with Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists, would
gladly have seen a full toleration granted to all Protestant sects, and
would even have consented to make alterations in the Liturgy, for the
purpose of conciliating honest and candid Nonconformists. But such
latitudinarianism was held in horror by the country parson. He was,
indeed, prouder of his ragged gown than his superiors of their lawn and
of their scarlet hoods. The very consciousness that there was little in
his worldly circumstances to distinguish him from the villagers to whom
he preached, led him to hold immoderately high the dignity of that
sacerdotal office, which was his single title to reverence.”

We raise no objection to this graphic description of the country clergy
living about the time that Samuel Wesley was appointed to South Ormsby.
We believe it to be strictly accurate; and yet to all general rules
there are exceptions, and, in this instance, Samuel Wesley was one. It
is true that he was poor and pinched. It is quite possible that he
sometimes found it necessary to load his dungcart, plough his glebe, and
feed his swine; but Samuel Wesley was not the man to waste his time at
bowls and shovelboard; or to stoop to the indignity of being regaled, by
servants, with cold meat and ale, in the kitchen of the squire’s
forbidden hall. His children might be coarsely clad, but his boys never
followed the plough, nor did his girls go out to service. His fifty
pounds a year might afford him next to nothing to buy books; and yet,
somehow he read most of the best books in the English language. He was
most faithfully devoted to the service of the Church; but he was far too
great a man to think that the mere accidents of the sacerdotal office
were sufficient to raise him above his neighbours. He was a country
parson; but in learning, mental abilities, and the faithful discharge of
ministerial duties, he differed from his country brethren, and was not
unworthy to be ranked and associated with the greatest men at that time
flourishing in the universities, in cathedrals, and in the capital. He
might, like hundreds of others, have spent his time in agricultural
toils and village sports, but there was within him the stirring of a
high-born genius, which, wherever it exists, invariably impels its
possessor to rise above the mediocrity of the common herd, and to
attempt something honourable to the man who does it, and of service to
those on whose behalf he labours. Human humdrums have always been
inconveniently numerous, but Samuel Wesley was not one of them.

As already stated, he was the clergyman of an obscure village, with
about two hundred inhabitants. There was plenty of opportunity to live a
lazy life. He might have droned away his time, and wasted “the
uncomfortable day in sighs;” but, like all men of genius and of mark, he
could be happy only by being hard at work. His scanty income, and his
increasing family, might be one of the inducements which led him to
devote himself to literary labour; but had his income been even larger
than his necessities required, it is almost certain that he would have
pursued the same course of conduct; for, to a literary man, literary
labour is not merely toil, but likewise luxury.

Samuel Wesley’s first publication was the “Maggots,” already noticed.
His next undertaking was the _Athenian Gazette_, projected by his
brother-in-law, John Dunton, just before Wesley removed from London to
South Ormsby. The title of the new work was the “_Athenian Gazette; or,
Casuistical Mercury, Resolving all the Nice and Curious Questions
Proposed by the Ingenious_.” The _Gazette_ was published twice a week,
every Tuesday and Saturday, each number consisting of a single folio.
The first number made its appearance on Tuesday, March 17, 1691, and the
last on June 14, 1697. Each number was sold at one penny, and thirty
numbers, that is, sixty pages, made what was called a volume; and which,
stitched in marble paper, was sold for half-a-crown. In the first number
that was issued, seven questions are answered in the following order,
viz.:—1. Whether the torments of the damned are visible to the saints in
heaven? 2. Whether the soul is eternal, or pre-existent from the
creation, or contemporary with its embryo? 3. Whether every man has a
good and bad angel attending him? 4. Where was the soul of Lazarus for
the four days he lay in the grave? 5. Whether all souls are alike? 6.
Whether it is lawful for a man to beat his wife? 7. How came the spots
in the moon?

In an advertisement, at the end of No. 1, correspondents are requested
to send their questions, “by a penny post letter, to Mr Smith’s, at his
Coffee-house, in Stocks Market, in the Poultry.”

As already stated, thirty numbers made what was called a volume; but to
each of the first five volumes was attached a supplement, quite as large
as the volume itself, containing “the transactions and experiments of
the foreign virtuosos, and also their ingenious conferences upon many
nice and curious questions; together with an account of the design and
scope of most of the considerable books printed in all languages, and
the quality of the author, if known.”

Wesley and his friends were soon inundated with questions; so much so,
that in the preface to vol. ii., they say they have nearly four thousand
on hand unanswered; they also request that no obscene questions be sent,
for they are resolved not to answer them; nor riddles, for riddles are
of no use to the general public; nor anything else, the answer to which
may be a scandal to the Government, or an abuse to particular persons.

During the publication of the first six volumes, the _Athenian Gazette_
was issued only twice a week; but afterwards the numbers were published
every Monday, Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday, until the completion of the
nineteenth volume, when it was announced that, “as the coffee-houses
have the votes every day, and nine newspapers every week, the Athenian
Society propose to drop the publication of sheets four days a week, and
henceforth to publish the work in volumes quarterly. Thirty numbers, to
make volume xx., would be printed all together; but as soon as the glut
of news was a little over, the weekly numbers would again commence.”

Eight years after, in 1703, the old Athenian volumes being out of print,
“a collection of all the valuable questions and answers” was printed in
three volumes; and, in 1710, a fourth volume was added, as a supplement,
“being a collection of the remaining questions and answers in the old
_Athenian Gazettes_.” This work had a rapid sale, and, in 1704, a second
edition was published, with a dedication to the Earl of Ormond, written
by Mr Wesley.

The publication of the _Athenian Gazette_ first occurred to Dunton
whilst he was walking in St George’s Fields. The object of the work was
to receive and to answer questions in all departments of literature.
Finding assistance necessary, Dunton first engaged the services of
Richard Sault, a man who “was admirably well skilled in the
mathematics.” Then the ingenious Dr Norris generously offered his help
_gratis_; but refused to become a stated member of the Athenian Society.
The undertaking grew every week, and hundreds of letters poured in.
Dunton writes, “The impatience of our querists, and the curiosity of
their questions, obliged us to adopt a third member of Athens; and the
Rev. Samuel Wesley being just come to town, all new from the university,
and my acquaintance with him being very intimate, I easily prevailed
with him to embark himself with us. With this new addition, we found
ourselves to be masters of the whole design; and therefore we neither
lessened nor increased our number.”

The original “articles of agreement between Samuel Wesley, clerk,
Richard Sault, gent., and John Dunton, for the writing of the _Athenian
Gazette, or Mercury_, dated April 10, 1691,” may still be seen among
Dunton’s MSS. in the Bodleian Library.

When the _Athenian Gazette_ was fairly and fully launched, a rival
paper, entitled the _Lacedemonian Mercury_, was published by Brown &
Pate. This was a trifling and even profane performance. The sole purpose
of the writers “seemed to be to laugh and ridicule solidity and
seriousness out of the world.”[41] This aroused the ire and energies of
Wesley, Sault, and Dunton, and they succeeded in putting down the rival
and ungodly upstart. A little later, an attack was made upon their
publication, by Elkanah Settle, who brought out a play, entitled “The
New Athenian Comedy; containing the Politicks, Oeconomicks, Tacticks,
Crypticks, Apocalypticks, Stypticks, Scepticks, Pneumaticks,
Theologicks, and Dogmaticks of our most learned Society.” Settle was
born at Dunstable, in 1648, and was educated at Trinity College, Oxford.
He began life by publishing two political pamphlets, which were publicly
burnt, on the accession of James II.[42] After this, he turned Tory,
wrote a poem on James’s coronation, and published an essay weekly on
behalf of James’s administration. He was called the city poet, because
he had a salary for writing a poem annually on the Lord Mayor’s day.
Afterwards he was reduced to such extreme poverty, that he was not only
obliged to write farces for Bartholomew fair, but to act in them
himself. In a farce, called St George and the Dragon, he acted the
dragon, a circumstance referred to by Dr Young in the following lines:—

           “Poor Elkanah, all other changes past,
           For bread, in Smithfield, dragons hiss’d at last,
           Spit streams of fire, to make the butchers gape,
           And found his manners suited to his shape.”

-----

Footnote 41:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. iv. p. 69.

Footnote 42:

  Dryden’s _Mis. Works_, vol. i., notes, p. 67, 1760.

-----

Settle died in 1723, the author of ten tragedies, three operas, a
comedy, and a pastoral, all of which are now forgotten. His comedy was
written against Wesley, Sault, and Dunton; but Dunton says it “was a
poor performance, and failed in its design.”

The place where Wesley, Sault, and Dunton met respecting the affairs of
their united publication, was Smith’s Coffee-house, George Yard,
adjoining the Mansion House, and here, on one occasion, an incident
occurred, illustrative of Samuel Wesley’s character. In a box, at the
other end of the room, where Wesley and his two friends were met for
business, there were a number of gentlemen, including an officer of the
guards, who, in his conversation, swore most dreadfully. Wesley heard
the oaths of this foul-mouthed man, and, feeling excessively annoyed at
such disgraceful ribaldry, asked the waiter to bring him a glass of
water, and then, in a loud voice so as to be heard by every one present,
said, “Carry the water to that gentleman in the red coat, and desire him
to wash his mouth after his oaths.” No sooner were the words spoken,
than the irate officer started to his feet to chastise the bold young
parson. His friends, however, possessed of more sense and manners than
himself, seized him and said, “Nay, Colonel! you gave the first offence,
you know it is an affront to swear in the presence of a clergyman.” And
there for the present the matter ended; but, many years afterwards, when
Wesley was in London attending convocation, on going through St James’s
Park, a gentleman accosted him, and asked if he knew him. Wesley
answered in the negative, upon which the gentleman recalled to his
remembrance the scene in Smith’s coffee-house, and added, “Since then,
sir, I thank God I have feared an oath, and everything that is offensive
to the divine Majesty. I rejoice at seeing you, and cannot refrain from
expressing my gratitude to God and to you, that we ever met.” A word
spoken in season, how good is it!

It has been already stated that Wesley, Sault, and Dunton were the only
proprietors of the _Athenian Gazette_; but it is right to add that they
had, among their contributors, some of the distinguished writers of that
period.

Sault was, in some respects, a remarkable man. His literary attainments
were considerable, and his skill in mathematics great; but he proved
unfaithful to his wife, sunk into a state of extreme melancholy, and
wrote a paper, which, to a great extent, embodied his own experience,
and which he entitled, “The Second Spira, being a fearful example of an
Atheist, who had apostatised from the Christian religion, and died in
despair at Westminster, Dec. 8, 1692.” In this account, he speaks of
himself as having spent five years at the university. He then came to
London, and began to study law. He formed an acquaintance with
atheistical companions, and drank into their spirit. He was then taken
ill, and was visited by his friends. After this, follows an account of
his pretended bewailings of his past faithlessness. Once he knew the
mercies of God and tasted what they were; but now he had denied Christ,
and wished that he was in hell. He refused all sustenance; he groaned
and tossed, and said he knew himself sealed unto damnation. “Oh that I
was to broil,” he cried, “upon that fire for a thousand years, to
purchase the favour of God, and be reconciled to Him again! But it is a
fruitless wish! Millions of millions of years will bring me no nearer to
the end of my tortures than one poor hour. Oh eternity! eternity!” His
last words were, “Oh the insufferable pangs of hell and damnation.”
Sault sent this fictitious paper to Dunton, in a disguised hand, and
requested him to publish it as a truthful narrative. Dunton did so, and
in six weeks sold thirty thousand copies, at sixpence each. Afterwards,
it became known that the pamphlet was a piece of fiction, except so far
as it was a partial description of Sault’s own experience; for Dunton
tells us that a little before he received the narrative, “Sault was
under the severest terrors of conscience; and his despair and melancholy
made him look like some walking ghost.” Dunton several times heard him
muttering to himself, “I am damned! I am damned!” The publication of
“The Second Spira” created an immense sensation, and Dunton found it
necessary to publish the “Secret History of Mr Sault,” so as to clear
himself from the imputation of sham or fraud in giving to the public
such a narrative; and yet, it is a singular circumstance, that, nearly a
hundred years afterwards, John Wesley republished the greater part of
“The Second Spira” in his _Arminian Magazine_, without a single line of
explanation that the piece, though powerfully written, was almost
altogether false. Richard Sault ultimately removed to Cambridge, where
his ingenuity and his algebraic skill obtained for him a considerable
reputation. He died there in 1704, being supported in his last sickness
by the charity of the scholars. He was interred in St Andrew’s Church,
Cambridge; and a writer, who knew him, says, “his learning was as
universal as his sense of things was fine and curious.”

Among the principal contributors to the _Athenian Gazette_ were Daniel
Defoe, already sketched, Dr Norris, Nahum Tate, Dean Swift, Sir William
Temple, and Mrs Rowe.[43]

John Norris was born at Collingborne-Kingston, in Wiltshire, in 1657,
and died at Bemerton, in the same county, in 1711. He was educated first
in Winchester School, and afterwards in the same college, at Oxford, as
that which Samuel Wesley entered. He was elected Fellow of All Souls’
College, and, shortly after Wesley left Oxford, he was presented to the
rectory of Newton St Loe, and, two years later, to that of Bemerton. He
was a pious, learned, and ingenious man, but had a tincture of
enthusiasm in his nature, which led him to imbibe the principles of the
idealists in philosophy and of the mystics in theology. A late writer
says of him, “In metaphysical acumen, in theological learning, and in
purity of diction, Dr Norris acknowledges no superior. He carries the
whole circle of the sciences in his head, and piety and religion
illustrate all his actions. Never was any question proposed by ingenious
malice or curiosity, but, with the utmost readiness and facility, he
gave not only fair and amusing ideas of it, but full and most evident
demonstrations. He was good, great, and learned; and a worthy companion
of so great a man as Samuel Wesley.”[44] His greatest work is “The
Theory of the Ideal World,” but, besides that, he published several
others.

-----

Footnote 43:

  It has been said that Matthew Wesley was a member of the Athenian
  Society; but, after a careful examination of the evidence alleged in
  proof of this, I strongly doubt it.

Footnote 44:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. iv. p. 26–7.

-----

Nahum Tate was poet-laureate to King William III. He was born in Dublin
in 1655, and educated in the Dublin University. On coming to London, he
fell into pecuniary difficulties, from which he was relieved by the Earl
of Dorset. He was the author of nine dramatic pieces, and of a variety
of miscellaneous poems, now deservedly forgotten. His name is
principally known by his version of the Psalms, generally affixed to the
Liturgy of the Church of England, and in the composition of which he was
assisted by Dr Brady.

Jonathan Swift, another of the Athenian contributors, was a marvellous
mortal. One of his earliest poetical productions was a commendatory poem
of 307 lines sent to the Athenian Society. Dryden read it, and said,
“Cousin Swift, you will never be a poet.” Dr Johnson says that this
unfortunate remark caused Swift to regard Dryden with malevolence to the
end of life. His “Tale of a Tub,” “Gulliver’s Travels,” and other works
are too well known to need description. He was a man of amazing genius,
but never ought to have been a priest. During his residence in Dublin
University, he incurred no less than seventy penalties for
irregularities; and, in the last year of his residence, his academical
degree was suspended, and he was sentenced to ask public pardon of the
junior dean for insolence. In his personal habits he was scrupulously
nice; and yet there are passages in his writings almost as gross as his
pen could make them. As an author, he is perhaps not surpassed for
originality, and it has been said of him that he never borrowed a
thought from any man. In some matters he was ludicrously penurious. Once
when going from Sir William Temple’s to his mother’s, he travelled the
whole distance on foot, except when the violence of the weather drove
him into stage waggons; and, at nights, put up at penny lodgings, where,
to secure himself from filth, he hired clean sheets for sixpence; and
yet with all this he can hardly be called a man of avarice, for he seems
to have saved only that he might have the more to give. Three years
before his death, he became insane, and sunk into a lethargy, in which
he remained speechless for a year. He left the greater part of his
fortune to an hospital for lunatics and idiots. He died in 1744. The
pranks and puns of Jonathan Swift, Dean Of St Patrick’s, are endless.
The common people received him everywhere with profound respect; and
upon one occasion, he made a laughable experiment on the public belief
in his authority. A number of the people having assembled round the
deanery to see an eclipse, Swift became tired of their commotion, and
directed the town crier to make proclamation, that the eclipse was
postponed, by command of the Dean of St Patrick’s, which had the effect
of dispersing the assembled star-gazers.

Sir William Temple was a frequent contributor to the _Athenian Gazette_.
This eminent statesman was a pupil of the learned Dr Hammond, his
maternal uncle. As an author, he was pleasing and popular, his style
being long regarded as a model of grace and elegance. He died at Moor
Park, in 1698, where, in accordance with his will, his heart was buried
in a silver box under the sun-dial, opposite to a window where he had
been accustomed to contemplate and admire the works of nature; while his
body was privately interred in Westminster Abbey.

The last contributor, we mention, was Mrs Rowe, who supplied “a variety
of inimitable poems.” “She was,” says Dunton, “the richest genius of her
sex. She knew the purity of our tongue, and conversed with as much
briskness and gaiety as she wrote. Her style is noble and flowing, and
her images vivid and shining.” Mrs Rowe, at this time, was not more than
twenty years of age; but she had cultivated music, painting, and poetry
from her childhood. She afterwards studied French and Italian, and
enjoyed the friendship of some of the most eminent literati of her day.
She died in 1737, and, shortly after her death, Dr Isaac Watts published
her “Devout Exercises of the Heart.” A year or two afterwards, appeared
her miscellaneous works, in prose and verse, in two volumes octavo.

These were the principal writers who assisted Samuel Wesley, Richard
Sault, and John Dunton in the publication of their _Athenian Gazette_.
The history of the Athenian Society was afterwards written by Charles
Gildon, and published in a folio of thirty-six pages. Gildon was a
native of the same county as Samuel Wesley, and about the same age. He
was educated at Douay for a popish priest, but, not liking the priestly
office, he plunged into dissipation, and added to his financial
embarrassments by an imprudent marriage at the age of twenty-three.
Necessity obliged him to turn author, and he produced a variety of works
in prose and verse. He died in 1723. Pope gave him a place in his
“Dunciad;” but Dunton says he was well “acquainted with the languages,
and wrote with a peculiar briskness which the common hacks could not
boast of.”

Gildon tells us that the whole design of the Athenian Society was “not
only to improve knowledge in divinity and philosophy, in all their
parts, as well as philosophy in all its latitude, but also to commend
this improvement to the public in the best method that can be found out
for instruction. In their Gazettes may be found the marrow of what great
authors have writ on curious subjects. The society have set learning in
so fair a light, that, won with its beauty, every one must with
eagerness embrace it. All the knotty points of philosophy, divinity,
mathematics, &c., are formed into queries by the inquisitive, and
answered by the society, who are not only men of parts, but also
industrious to the highest degree. They are men of sense, and piety, and
patience. Horace never had half the fatigue with the poetaster, as they
must have had with both male and female impertinencies. One
correspondent wishes to know whether any two men have the same number of
hairs on their heads; another wishes to know whether it be lawful to eat
black puddings; and another whether the devil takes a human form in
foreign countries. There are hundreds of such questions asked and
answered. Indeed queries came in so fast, that in the third number of
the _Gazette_ the public were requested to send no more till those
already sent had received replies.”

Gildon then proceeds to give an account of the principal contributors.
Of Samuel Wesley he says, “He was a man of profound knowledge, not only
of the Holy Scriptures, of the councils, and of the fathers, but also of
every other _Art_ that comes within the number of the _liberal_. His
zeal and ability in giving spiritual directions were great. With
invincible power he confirmed the wavering, and confuted heretics.
Beneath the genial warmth of his wit, the most barren subject became
fertile and divertive. His style was sweet and manly, soft without
satiety, and learned without pedantry. His temper and conversation were
affable. His compassion for the sufferings of his fellow-creatures, was
as great as his learning and his parts. Were it possible for any man to
act the part of a universal priest, he would certainly deem it his duty
to take care of the spiritual good of all mankind. In all his writings
and actions, he evinced a deep concern for all that bear the glorious
image of their Maker; and was so apostolical in his spirit, that pains,
labours, watchings, and prayers were far more delightful to him than
honours to the ambitious, wealth to the miser, or pleasures to the
voluptuous.” Such, in substance, is Gildon’s character of Wesley. He
adds, “It were to be wished that a great many of the clergy would have
him in view, as a sure direction of their behaviour, since an imitation
of his practical virtues would confute the profane enemies of that
sacred body, by the most prevalent of arguments, _example_.”

Gildon was doubtless well acquainted with Wesley; and hence such a
testimony is too important to be omitted.

It is impossible, in a work like this, to give a full idea of the vast
and varied learning embodied in these old _Athenian Gazettes_. Error is
confuted, and superstitions and follies ridiculed. Many of the most
perplexing questions in divinity are discussed with great ability.
Philosophy is handled with equal excellence. All sorts of questions
relating to metaphysics, astronomy, mathematics, law, anatomy, and, even
love and courtship, are answered with consummate care. It cannot be
denied, that the work contains things which would now be deemed gross
and indelicate; but some allowance must be made, on the ground that the
literary tastes of the people were, at that time, widely different from
what they are at present; and, it must also be observed further, that,
in the articles bearing upon divinity, history, poetry, and natural
philosophy, (upon all of which subjects Samuel Wesley may be presumed to
have written,) there is not a line offensive to good taste, though, of
course, opinions are expressed which may fairly be disputed.

Dr Adam Clarke writes, respecting the _Athenian Oracle_, “No reader can
peruse them, (the volumes,) without profit; for although the authors
submitted to answer questions of little or no importance, yet the work
at large contains many things of great value. When I was little more
than a child, an odd volume of the _Athenian Oracle_, lent me by a
friend, was a source of improvement and delight; and now I consult this
work with double interest, knowing the well-nerved hand, by which at
least one-third of it was composed.”

We cannot state, with certainty, what articles in the _Athenian
Gazettes_ were written by Samuel Wesley; but, as he was the only
clergyman in the Athenian Society, it may fairly be presumed that he
answered all, or nearly all, the questions relating to divinity and to
church history. He was also a poet, and there cannot be a doubt that
many of the poetical pieces were likewise the productions of his genius.

In the indices of the _Athenian Oracle_, there is a list of about 2800
questions, and of these about 900 refer to theology and the history of
the Church; so that it is not unreasonable to suppose, that one-third of
the Athenian questions were answered by Mr Wesley. The following is a
selection, and will tend to show the difficulties with which he
courageously grappled:—

“1. Has every man an angel to attend him? 2. What was the cause of the
fall of angels? 3. When did angels receive their first existence? 4. On
what day did Adam fall? 5. Was Adam a giant? 6. Who was the first
founder of Atheism? 7. What became of the ark after the flood? 8. Did
the fall of Adam cause any alteration in his body? 9. Did Adam sin more
than once? 10. What number of angels fell? 11. In what sense could
angels eat? 12. Are there nine orders of angels? 13. How high was
Babel’s tower? 14. Of what sort of matter will glorified bodies consist?
15. What language was spoken by Balaam’s ass? 16. Can the day of
Christ’s nativity be found out? 17. Who was Cain’s wife? 18. What mark
did God fix upon Cain? 19. Why was Christ not baptized till He was
thirty years of age? 20. Are the torments of the damned visible to the
saints? 21. Is the devil corporeal? 22. Does the devil know our
thoughts? 23. Can the devil generate? 24. Why is not the name of God
mentioned in the Book of Esther? 25. Have dead friends any concern for
those alive? 26. Shall we know friends in heaven? 27. Are the ghosts
that appear the souls of men? 28. Are the punishments of hell equal? 29.
Who is the author of the Book of Job? 30. What language did our first
parents speak in Paradise? 31. Were there any men before Adam? 32. Was
Moses the author of the Pentateuch? 33. Why was man not made incapable
of sinning? 34. Shall negroes rise at the last day? 35. Whither went the
waters of Noah’s flood? 36. Did Peter and Paul use notes when they
preached? 37. How is the prescience of God consistent with man’s free
agency? 38. Was extempore prayer a primitive custom? 39. Are the
marriages of Quakers lawful? 40. Whether would you choose to be a Quaker
or a Papist? 41. Is repentance acceptable without sackcloth and ashes?
42. Is the soul of man pre-existent? 43. When was the surplice first
instituted? 44. How do spirits speak? 45. Whether is the soul by
traduction or infusion? 46. Which was the greatest sin before the flood?
47. Why is sprinkling in baptism more lawful than dipping? 48. Will
souls be equally happy in heaven? 49. Was Socinianism in St John’s time?
50. What is the sin against the Holy Ghost? 51. Was there any shipping
before the days of Noah? 52. When the soul leaves the body does she not
put on another that is more subtle? 53. Whither went the ten tribes? 54.
What do the Urim and Thummim signify? 55. Should women sit promiscuously
with men at church? 56. Are there any absolute decrees? 57. Was not
Abraham the first institutor of public schools? 58. Was not the creation
of the world occasioned by the fall of Lucifer? 59. When do children
begin to commit actual sin? 60. Do children suffer for the sins of
parents? 61. Is dancing lawful? 62. What are Gog and Magog? 63. Are the
torments of hell eternal? 64. Where is hell? 65. Was Melchisedec Christ,
an angel, or a man? 66. Is it possible to live without the commission of
sin? 67. Is the world eternal? 68. How far did the benefits of our
Saviour’s death extend? 69. If Christ suffered for all men, how do you
expound John xvii. 9? 70. Will the earth be destroyed or refined? 71. Is
a Dissenter a schismatic? 72. What is that faith without which there is
no salvation? 73. Can faith be attained without the assistance of grace?
74. Does God universally pardon on condition of believing? 75. How shall
infants and deformed persons rise at the day of judgment? 76. May a man
who has taken holy orders lay aside his calling? 77. Does a regenerate
man commit sin? 78. Is it possible to fall finally from a state of
grace? 79. Is baptism a means of regeneration? 80. Did Christ actually
descend into hell? 81. Do the English come from the seed of Abraham? 82.
Is heaven promised to a certain number? 83. Is there any certainty of
salvation in this life? 84. Was it the will of God to create the world
from all eternity?”

These are about a tenth part of the biblical and theological questions
answered by Samuel Wesley in the _Athenian Gazette_, and are given here
for a twofold purpose; first, to suggest to youthful readers topics to
think about; and secondly, to show the difficulties courageously
encountered by Samuel Wesley, and the curious and daring character of
his studies.

It would not be difficult to gather from the answers to the nine hundred
biblical and theological questions in the _Athenian Gazette_, the
principal points of Mr Wesley’s creed. The longest theological articles
are those levelled against the Baptists and the Quakers. One piece
alone, written against the former, fills nearly fifty pages of the
_Athenian Oracle_; and against the latter there are several articles,
showing that the Lincolnshire rector was no ardent admirer of the
broad-brimmed followers of George Fox. They are charged with
intolerance, enthusiasm, silliness, and with holding dangerous opinions
and detestable doctrines. A Quaker, in fact, was a mischievous and
troublesome compendium of all sorts of heresies. Samuel Wesley, as a
rule, was generous and liberal in his sentiments respecting others; but
some sects and parties, at the close of the seventeenth century, were so
fanatical, bigoted, bitter, and offensive, that he found it difficult to
regard them with the same fraternal feelings with which he regarded
Christian brotherhoods in general.

With one or two exceptions, the theological and religious views of
Samuel Wesley were as Scriptural and as sound as the standard of
Methodist teaching contained in the well-known Sermons and Notes of his
son John. There may be a difference of phraseology between the father
and son, but their doctrines are _substantially_ the same. Our space
forbids lengthened quotations; but perhaps the following extracts from
the _Athenian Oracle_ will not be unacceptable, as containing statements
of Scripture doctrines, and as tending to exhibit the opinions of Mr
Wesley on some of the most important verities of the Christian religion,
and on some of the most interesting points of ecclesiastical polity.

Samuel Wesley was a firm believer in the authenticity of the Holy
Scriptures. He contends that the Bible now used “is the same that was
written by the apostles and prophets,” and that, because they were
“inspired by the Spirit of God,” the Bible “is the very Word of
God.”[45]

-----

Footnote 45:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. i. p. 260. 2d Edition.

-----

He also had an unshaken faith in the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. He
argues that it “is impossible for a man to invent fuller or clearer
expressions for the proof of anything in question than the evangelist St
John” employs in favour of the doctrine of Christ’s divinity. After
adducing evidence of this, he concludes, with an air of conscious
triumph, “When I see all this answered, without straining it into
perfect incongruous nonsense, I promise to turn Socinian.”[46] “The
Arians,” says he,[47] in another place, “in some of their confessions of
faith, did grant that the Son was from all eternity, by such an
emanation from the Father as that whereby the light proceeds from the
sun; but yet contended for a moment’s difference between their
existence—the Son receiving His, as they think, from the Father; whereby
they unavoidably fell into the same absurdity which other pretenders to
reason have since done—that, I mean, of a _made_ God, or a _subordinate_
Supreme.” Language like this is unmistakable. Samuel Wesley was no
dubious hesitator between two opinions. While yet a youth in Mr Morton’s
academy, he had been disgusted with the Socinian, Biddle; and, a few
years later, he was the means of extricating one of the finest of
intellects from Socinian meshes; for his own wife, Susanna Wesley, who,
while a girl in her father’s house, had reasoned herself into the
Socinian creed, acknowledges it as one of the great mercies of her life,
that, she was “married to a religious orthodox man, and by him was first
drawn off from the Socinian heresy.”

-----

Footnote 46:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. i. p. 418.

Footnote 47:

  In Notes to his _Life of Christ_, p. 221.

-----

Samuel Wesley, like his son John, was a moderate Arminian. He fearlessly
repudiates the doctrines of election and reprobation. “We cannot,” says
he, “be satisfied by any of those scriptures which are brought for that
purpose, that there is any such _election_ of a _determinate number_ as
either puts a force on their _natures_, and _irresistably_ saves them,
or absolutely excludes all the rest of mankind from salvation. We think
there is no one place in the Holy Scriptures which proves that so many
men, and no more, were _irresistably determined_ to everlasting
salvation.”[48] He believed that “God predestinated those to salvation
whom He foresaw would make a good use of His grace, resolving to damn
only such as He foresaw would continue impenitent.”[49] He maintains
that “God made man upright, and a free agent, and that God’s prescience
presides over man’s free agency, but doth not overrule it, by saving man
whether He will or no, or by damning him undeservedly.”[50] “God
necessitates no evil action, yet He foresees all. If God tempts no man
to evil, much less does He necessitate. Indeed, were He to do this, the
nature of man would be destroyed, the proposal of rewards and
punishments would be ironical, preaching would be vain, and faith also
vain. If you ask us to reconcile all the differences arising out of the
doctrines of God’s prescience and man’s free agency, we promise to do it
when philosophers can solve the incommensurability of matter, and twenty
other phenomena, and make them agree with demonstrations which appear
diametrically opposite unto them. In the meantime, let us think soberly
and modestly, as becomes us in these matters. Let every one enjoy his
own sense, so he makes not God the author of sin, and let us all cry
out, ‘How unsearchable are His judgments, and His ways past finding
out.’”[51]

-----

Footnote 48:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. i. p. 178.

Footnote 49:

  _Ibid._, vol. ii. p. 111.

Footnote 50:

  _Ibid._, vol. i. p. 58.

Footnote 51:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. ii. p. 101.

-----

Mr Wesley believed in the doctrine of universal redemption; in other
words, that Jesus Christ “atoned so far for the sins of all mankind as
to make them in a salvable condition, or to repair the ruins which were
made by the first Adam, which is plain from Rom. v. 12, 18, &c.”[52]
“God really wills the salvation of all men, as far as is consistent with
the liberty of man and His own purity and justice;” and He “has also
used all the necessary means for our salvation;” “He offers pardon of
all sin, and right to life in Christ, to all men without exception, on
condition of believing and acceptance.”[53]

-----

Footnote 52:

  _Ibid._, vol. iii. p. 531.

Footnote 53:

  _Ibid._, p. 260.

-----

He further believed that no man can do an “action properly and perfectly
acceptable to God by his own natural abilities, abstracted from the
assistance of God’s Spirit, but by His common assistance he may pray,
abstain from sin, and practise duty; and, if he continues in these good
actions, he will have still more aid, and go on to perfection.”[54]

-----

Footnote 54:

  _Ibid._, p. 531.

-----

Respecting the doctrines of justification and justifying faith, Mr
Wesley writes: “Forgiveness of sins is, at least, included in
justification, nay, is the main part, if not the whole thereof. It may,
without violence, be reckoned a convertible term with it. Our sins being
pardoned, our being esteemed righteous by God, our justification through
our Saviour’s merits, we think are but the same thing in different
expressions.”[55] “By God’s justifying a sinner, is meant His looking
upon us and treating us as just and innocent persons, although before we
stood guilty of heinous sins, and thereupon liable to grievous
punishments.”[56] “We are saved by the merits of Christ Jesus; for His
sake, not our own; and this we look upon to be the same, in other words,
as Christ’s imputed righteousness.”[57] “We are justified, or accepted
with God, as a means, by faith, or a true belief of what God reveals,
and by trusting in His mercy, through His Son.”[58] “But then this very
faith must be justified by works, as Abraham’s was, for it would have
been in vain for him to have pretended he had believed God’s promise to
him, had he not, in obedience to His command, also offered up his son
Isaac.”[59] That faith, without which there is no salvation, “is a
steady belief of all that God reveals, especially in the gospel,
particularly that Jesus is the Messiah, or Saviour of the _world_, and
that He will save _me_, if I _depend_ on Him, and _obey_ His
commands.”[60] No follower of John Wesley holds the doctrine of
justification by faith more clearly, or more firmly, than did John
Wesley’s noble-minded father.

-----

Footnote 55:

  _Ibid._, vol. iv. p. 140.

Footnote 56:

  _Ibid._, vol. i. p. 455.

Footnote 57:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. i. p. 455.

Footnote 58:

  _Ibid._

Footnote 59:

  _Ibid._, p. 456.

Footnote 60:

  _Ibid._, vol. iii. p. 531.

-----

The new birth, writes the clear-headed and thoroughly orthodox young
clergyman, “is that particular aid of God’s Holy Spirit, which works an
entire change in the mind, and turns men from evil to good, being a new
principle of action in them.”[61]

-----

Footnote 61:

  _Ibid._, p. 460.

-----

It is a remarkable fact, not generally known, that Samuel Wesley was a
Millenarian. The Rev. William Lindsay Alexander, in an elaborate article
in the “Encyclopædia Britannica” gives the following as the chief tenets
of the Millenarian creed:—“That Jerusalem is to be rebuilt, the temple
to be restored, and sacrifice again offered on the altar; that this city
is to form the residence of Christ, who is to reign there in glory with
all His saints for a thousand years; that, for this purpose, there shall
be a resurrection of all the pious dead, that none of the Saviour’s
followers may be absent during His triumph; that, at the close of the
thousand years, they shall all return to heaven, and the world be left
to Satan and his followers for a season; and that then the general
resurrection and last judgment shall take place, and the history of the
world be brought to a close.” In vol. iv. of the _Athenian Gazette_, the
No. for October 17, 1691, is entirely occupied by a Millenarian article,
which had been specially advertised on the Tuesday previous, and the
following extract will show substantially the opinions held by Samuel
Wesley:—“We believe, as all Christians of the purest ages did, that the
saints shall reign with Christ on earth a thousand years; that this
reign shall be immediately before the general resurrection, and after
the calling of the Jews, the fulness of the Gentiles, and the
destruction of Antichrist, whom our Saviour shall destroy by the
_brightness of His coming_, and _appearance in heaven_; that at the
beginning of this thousand years shall be the first resurrection,
wherein martyrs and holy men shall rise and reign here in spiritual
delights in the New Jerusalem, in a new heaven and new earth, foretold
by the holy prophets.” After this statement of his belief follows an
able article on the same subject, but it is scarce within the province
which we have prescribed for ourselves, to attempt either to refute or
to establish the truth of it.

The following is a somewhat startling opinion respecting the future
state of the righteous and wicked:—“They shall both arise equally
immortal, and diversified in nothing but their last sentence. We shall
then see not by receiving the visible species into the narrow glass of
an organised eye; we shall then hear without the distinct and curious
contexture of the ear. The body then shall be all eye, all ear, all
sense in the whole, and every sense in every part. In a word, it shall
be all over a common sensorium; and being made of the purest æther,
without the mixture of any lower or grosser element, the soul shall, by
one undivided act, at once perceive all that variety of objects which
now cannot, without several distinct organs, and successive actions or
passions, reach our sense. Every sense shall be perfect; the ear shall
hear everything at once throughout the spacious limits both of heaven
and hell, with a perfect distinction, and without confounding that
_anthem_ with this _blasphemy_; the eye shall find no matter or
substance to fix it; and so of the other senses. The reason of this is
plain and convincing; for, if the bodies of the just and unjust were not
thus qualified, they could not be proper subjects for the exercise of an
eternity, but would consume and be liable to a dissolution, or to new
changes. Hence we assert, that every _individual person in heaven and
hell_ shall hear and see all that passes in either state; these to a
more extensive aggravation of their tortures, by the loss of what the
other enjoy; and those to a greater increase of their bliss, in escaping
what the others suffer.”[62]

-----

Footnote 62:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. i. p. 3.

-----

Such are some of the chief theological views that were entertained by
Samuel Wesley. Others might be added, but space forbids. He has been
almost invariably represented as holding the principles of the High
Church party; but nothing can be more unfounded than this. He preferred
the Church of England to any other Church, and thought its doctrines,
rituals, and devotions the best in existence. But where is the
Methodist, or the Independent, or the Baptist, but what thinks and feels
exactly the same respecting the ecclesiastical system to which he
adheres? The man that does not prefer his own Church to any other Church
is a man without principle; yea, a man whose principle is bad; for, in
matters of supreme importance, he is adhering to a system of
ecclesiastical doctrine and discipline, not because he thinks it the
best, but to serve some other purpose—mercenary, mean, and miserable.
Samuel Wesley thought the Church of England the best; but he was not the
narrow-minded and little-hearted bigot to unchurch other churches, and
deny that so far from being equally good, they were not good at all.
Hear what he says on both subjects:—

“The _doctrine_ of the Church of England we entirely embrace, otherwise
we could not be Christians. We are ready to subscribe to her Articles,
taking all of them, as we are verily persuaded, in the same sense which
the compilers intended. For her _discipline_, we believe the
_essentials_ of it—_Liturgy_ and _Episcopacy_—are agreeable to the
primitive pattern and the Word of God. For her _rituals_ and
_devotions_—we are sure they are the most perfect and pure that any
Church in the world now enjoys, and dare almost add, or ever did. There
are not two _passages_ in them, which we would desire to have changed;
though, should the authority and wisdom of Church and State think fit to
make any alterations as to words and smaller circumstances, for the sake
of peace and union, we should think it our duty, modestly and gladly to
submit.”[63] Wesley’s opinion of the clergy may be gathered from the
following:—“It is not strange that, among so considerable a body of men,
there should be found some who extremely disgrace their character, and
are highly unworthy; but it is notorious, that all possible care is now
taken that the clergy should lead such lives as they are obliged to by
solemn vow and promise; and it is known that those who do not, are not
so soon preferred as perhaps they might have been in former reigns. With
some exceptions, the clergy of England are at this time as considerable
a body, both for piety and learning, good preaching and good living, as
any in the world, or perhaps, as any that have lived here in any age of
the Church since the apostles. Of all those country parishes with which
we are acquainted, we cannot, in fifty or threescore parishes, think of
above three or four, who disgrace their character. So far from it, the
pulpits are filled with sober and ingenious men, good preachers, and
good livers.”[64]

-----

Footnote 63:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. i. p. 165.

Footnote 64:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. iii. p. 382.

-----

So much in reference to his opinion of the Church and its ministers. We
add two quotations about dissent:—“A Christian Church becomes not more
or less Christian by being national; but if a National Church agrees in
doctrine with the doctrine of Christ, and Dissenters agree in doctrine
with the National Church, neither of them are schismatics from the
Church of Christ.”[65] And again: “There is no real difference betwixt
the Church of England and the Presbyterians as to the manner of worship
and preaching. They are really one as to fundamentals; and any one so
persuaded, may with a safe conscience communicate with either. Let those
that keep up the partition wall, take heed lest they are thereby
excluded out of the bond of charity, which makes all of one mind, and
partakers of the same privileges.”[66]

This is scarce the language of a High Churchman, consigning Dissenters
to the uncovenanted mercies of Almighty God. Samuel Wesley was of a
temperament too painstaking, too ardent, and too sincere, to be a
latitudinarian; but, at the same time, he was too good and too great a
man to be a bigot.

-----

Footnote 65:

  _Ibid._, p. 97.

Footnote 66:

  _Ibid._, p. 76.

-----

Before leaving the _Athenian Gazette_, it may be added that its writers
acted in great harmony, and nothing was published by any one which had
not the approval of all. They held meetings regularly at stated times,
chose a moderator, and determined controversial points by a majority of
votes. If any member happened to be absent, he had to send, except in
some particular cases, his papers for the approbation of his
friends.[67] The project was a great success. It rose superior to all
the opposition of its opponents, Anabaptists, Quakers, Usurers, and
Lacedemonians; and gained from the nation increasing, and almost general
applause.[68]

-----

Footnote 67:

  _Ibid._, vol. iv. p. 76.

Footnote 68:

  _Ibid._, p. 67–73.

-----




                             CHAPTER VIII.
                     MORE LITERARY WORK—1692–1693.


The publication of the _Athenian Gazette_ was begun March 17, 1691, and
was closed June 14, 1697. In itself, it was a formidable undertaking.
The questions sent to the writers were so many, so diversified, so
curious, and so difficult, that to answer them required immense reading
and research. And yet, in the midst of the publication of this work, the
Athenian Society courageously began another, even more extensive and
more arduous; the proposals for printing which were issued, in the
preface to the third volume of the _Athenian Gazette_, October 17, 1691.
The work was to consist of 120 sheets; it was to contain nothing but
what had the approbation of the _whole_ Athenian Society; and the price
per copy, unbound, was to be ten shillings. To some extent, it was
similar in plan to the supplements attached to the first volumes of the
_Athenian Gazette_; and probably this was the reason why the supplements
were dropped a few months before the new work was issued. At length, on
the 6th of June 1692, which was shortly after Samuel Wesley’s removal to
South Ormsby, the work was published in a folio volume of more than five
hundred pages, and was entitled, “The Young Student’s Library:
containing Extracts and Abridgments of the most valuable Books, printed
in England and in the Foreign Journals, from the Year Sixty-five to this
time;”—to which is added, “A new Essay upon all sorts of Learning;
wherein the Use of the Sciences is distinctly treated on, by the
Athenian Society. London: Printed for John Dunton, 1692.”

Prefixed to this volume is a curious and fantastic frontispiece,
strikingly characteristic of Dunton’s genius. At the four corners are
representations of Athens, Rome, Oxford, and Cambridge. At a long table
are seated the members of the Athenian Society, twelve in number, Dunton
evidently in the middle, and Samuel Wesley, the only clergyman, at his
side. Before the table are all sorts of characters presenting their
enigmas for solution. One is a faithless lady in a mask, come to inquire
how she may convert her faithless husband to a sense of propriety.
Another, as a fashionable coquette, with a spaniel in her lap, presents
to the learned Athenians her square-sized billet, and awaits with
self-complacent impudence an answer. A moon-struck lawyer and an honest
Jack Tar eagerly ask for counsel; while a disciple of Euclid, compasses
in hand, and studying a globe, longs for a mathematical solution. A poor
parson inquires how he is to get a living; and a whole rout of
fishwives, thieves, and bad characters clamour for advice; while, before
a tripod, filled with burning chestnuts, is a monkey, with a cat in his
paws, making her pick out the nuts on his behalf, and thereby showing
the cautiousness of the Athenians in answering questions likely to burn
their own fingers.

“The Young Student’s Library” contains the substance of above one
hundred volumes, many of them folio in size. The extracting and
condensing of the contents of such a mass of books must have been a work
of enormous labour. Very able synopses are given of above eighty
different works.[69] And, in addition to these reviews, there are two
most elaborate articles written by Samuel Wesley—one, entitled “An Essay
upon all sorts of Learning,” and the other, “A Discourse concerning the
Antiquity, Divine Original, and Authority of the Points, Vowels, and
Accents that are placed to the Hebrew Bible;” and, in close connexion
with the latter, are six Critical Disquisitions upon the various
editions of the Scriptures, the Polyglot Bible, Hebrew Grammars, Hebrew
Lexicons, and Hebrew Poetry, all of which are probably the productions
of Mr Wesley’s pen.

-----

Footnote 69:

  The titles of these works will be found in Appendix C.

-----

From the foregoing summary, it will be seen that “The Young Student’s
Library” is a remarkable book, evincing an enormous extent of reading
and research, and displaying an amount of labour almost incredible. Many
of the volumes analysed are quarto and folio in size, and not a few are
written in foreign languages. It is impossible to determine how many of
these literary condensations were made by Mr Wesley; but there can be no
doubt that he was one of the principal contributors to the work,
inasmuch as, from the first, he had been one of the chief members, if
not _the chief_ member, of the Athenian Society; and this opinion is
strengthened by the fact, that his “Essay on Learning” is placed as a
sort of preliminary discourse at the very commencement of the book;
while his article on the “Hebrew Points” occupies an equally prominent
position in what may be considered the second section of the volume.

The work was announced as “containing the substance and pith of all that
is valuable in most of the best books printed in England and in the
foreign journals;” whilst its object was “to provide means for improving
the knowledge of those who had not the ability of purse to arrive at a
learned education, and to purchase all those voluminous books which
treat of those several arts and sciences which are required to the
composing a scholar.”[70] The preface of the book modestly, and not
untruthfully, observes: “These treatises are not only pleasant as to
their variety, but useful for their brevity; there being the substance
and value of a considerable part of a good library brought within the
compass of this volume; which as it will spare much labour—a man being
able to peruse here more of an author in half an hour, than in half a
day in the author himself—so it will save a great deal of expense to
such as would be master of the knowledge of many books, the performances
of the authors being here epitomised.”

-----

Footnote 70:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. iv. p. 56.

-----

It has been already stated that, in this remarkable book, there are,
besides epitomes of the works of others, two elaborate articles, the
productions of Samuel Wesley’s scholarship and pen; and these are of
such interest and importance as to justify further remarks respecting
them.

The “Discourse concerning the Antiquity, Divine Original, and Authority
of the Points, Vowels, and Accents that are placed to the Hebrew Bible,”
if printed separately, would make an 8vo volume of nearly 250 pages. In
the introduction, young students in divinity are strongly urged to make
themselves thoroughly acquainted with the Hebrew Bible and the Greek New
Testament; and, in order to this, they are earnestly advised to master
the works of the Jewish Rabbins, because the Rabbins will help to a
right understanding of many difficult Hebrew words and phrases, and will
explain many rites and ceremonies, ordinances, and customs, which are
but slightly mentioned in the sacred Scriptures. From them will be
obtained the best explanation of proverbial speeches, and of the names
of places, sects, moneys, weights, and measures; and also of the moral,
judicial, and ceremonial laws of Moses. A knowledge of the Rabbinical
writings is also necessary to maintain and defend the purity, the
points, vowels, and accents of the sacred text itself. After this, books
are recommended as helpful in attaining an acquaintance with the Hebrew
Bible—viz., Robertson’s “First and Second Gate to the Holy Tongue;”
Jessey’s “Lexicon;” Buxtorf’s “Epitome, Thesaurus, and Lexicon,”
Bythner’s “Lyra Prophetica;” Leusden’s “Compendium;” and Arius
Montanus’s “Interlineary Bible.” Wesley also recommends the study of the
Mishna, the Talmud, and the Rabbinical Commentaries of Aben Ezra, and
others. He likewise expresses a willingness to give to the public an
English translation of these Rabbinical writings, if his bookseller
received sufficient encouragement to publish; and, in another place, he
says: “If this discourse about the original of the points, vowels, and
accents, finds acceptance and encouragement, I intend a distinct
discourse upon the sacred original text of the Old Testament, in defence
of its purity and perfection, as it is now enjoyed by the Protestant
Church; wherein I purpose to handle all those curiosities that are the
subject of critical observation about the same; being very willing to
defend our religion, and the rule of our faith, to the uttermost of my
power.”[71]

-----

Footnote 71:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

He then shows the vast importance of the points of the Hebrew Bible;
contending that he who reads without the points is like one who rides a
horse without a bridle, and knows not whither he goes. He also contends
that his book is required and opportune, on account of such men as
Capellus and Dr Walton having recently published the dangerous doctrine
that the Hebrew points were not divine in their origin, but were added
to the sacred text by the Masorites of Tiberias, about five hundred
years before the birth of Christ. After this, he most elaborately
refutes the opinions respecting the human and novel origin of the
points, alleging that, with one exception, there is not a single Jewish
writer, who makes the least mention of the Hebrew punctuation being
invented by the Masorites, A.D. 500. He contends that the time and the
place, when and where the points are said to have been invented, are
exceedingly improbable; and that the Masorites, to whom they are
attributed, were unequal to the task, they being a set of magical and
monstrous sots—a company of blind and crafty fools, bewitching and
bewitched with traditions.

In the second part of his work, on the Hebrew points, Samuel Wesley
proceeds to prove that the points are at least as old as Ezra, that they
are of divine original, and therefore of divine authority. In
confirmation of this, he appeals to the testimonies of Jews and
Christians, and answers all sorts of objections.

It is almost impossible to give any adequate outline of this most
learned production. Perhaps it is not too much to say, that there is no
book of modern times in which so much learning is condensed into so
small a space. It shows, incontestably, that Samuel Wesley was a most
able Hebrew scholar, and, though at this time only thirty years of age,
had gone through a course of learned reading to which but few scholars
of the present age will apply themselves. Gildon, in his “History of the
Athenian Society,” remarks that Wesley “has taken notice of all which
can be raised against the opinion he defends;” that he had “given
himself for many years to the study of the Hebrew and original tongues,
and to Rabbinical learning in general;” and that his “performance was
quite equal to the nobleness of the subject.” “He has executed his
task,” continues Gildon, “with a great deal of strength of judgment,
force of argument, and profoundness of skill. It was the saying of a
great man, that he would easily tell the progress any one would make in
science if he knew but the value he had for it; and no man could have a
greater esteem for any knowledge than this divine (Wesley) had for
this.” He considered it “the chief and obligatory study of men of his
character, who were to give the true and genuine sense of Scripture to
the souls they directed, under the pain of woe at the last tribunal. His
treatise is accurate and elaborate, and abundantly satisfactory; and it
were to be wished that the same great man would oblige the world with
those other pieces of Rabbinical learning which he mentions in these
sheets. No prospect of any present or future advantage to himself
induced him to engage in this laborious work, he having generously given
the copy to the publisher without the least gratuity. In him learning
has met with a happy temper, an innate modesty, and a sweet agreeable
affability to all men; a charity not stinted to factions, parties, or
religions; but universal, like that of the first institutor of our holy
religion. In short, the virtues that this reverend divine has made a
part of himself are much more noble qualifications than that
extraordinary one of his learning.”[72] Such a testimony, from a man
contemporaneous with Samuel Wesley, is worth recording.

-----

Footnote 72:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. iv. p. 60, 61.

-----

We only add respecting the “Discourse on the Hebrew Points,” that, in
the preface to the “Young Student’s Library,” it is stated “that the
author of the Hebrew punctuation has retired into the country,” (to
South Ormsby,) “where his necessary business will take up a great part
of his time; yet whatever letters and objections shall be sent to him
about his performance he will, notwithstanding his business, set apart
so much time as to maintain what he has advanced, and to answer all
objections whatever.”

Brave Samuel Wesley! None but an empty-headed braggart, or a
great-minded man, conscious of his strength, would have dared to give a
challenge such as this.

The second piece written by Mr Wesley, and published in the “Young
Student’s Library,” is entitled “An Essay upon all Sorts of Learning.” A
few extracts will tend to show his intense passion for intellectual
pursuits, and the wide range of his literary studies.

_Learning._—“Learning is of universal extension. Like the sun, it denies
not its rays to any that will open their eyes. Other treasures may be
monopolised, but this is increased by diffusion, and the more a man
imparts the more he retains. Rather than a wise man would be deprived of
learning, he would even steal it from the minutes of necessary rest or
recreation.”

_The Bible._—“If we examine nature, and anatomise the law written upon
our hearts,—if we peruse the volumes of the ancient philosophers, or
those of the Brahmins and Chinese,—if we make a strict inquiry into all
their rules and lessons of morality,—we have a compendium of all in the
sacred writ. For abstruseness of notions, the first of Genesis outvies
the Egyptian philosophy; and for elegancy of style, the prophecy of
Isaiah and the Epistle to the Hebrews far exceed the eloquent orations
of Cicero and Demosthenes. In short, there is nothing here, either
promised or threatened, commanded or forbidden, but what is godlike, and
worthy its divine original. Our deists have nothing to object but a
little buffoonery, and it would be a pity to deny them the happiness
they take in that, or any other short-lived pleasure necessarily arising
from their principles.”

After a brief but pithy and powerful defence of revealed religion, he
recommends to the biblical student a list of both English and Latin
books that will greatly assist him in his studies, including the works
of Poole, Hammond, Grotius, Eusebius, Hooker, Burnet, Stillingfleet,
Lightfoot, Sherlock, Usher, Barrow, Du Pin, Hales, Jeremy Taylor, &c.

His next article is upon history, of which he writes:—

“_History_ gives the best prospect into human affairs, and makes us
familiar with the remotest regions. By this, we may ascertain what
practices have established kingdoms, and what has contributed to the
weakness and overthrow of bodies politic. We may see all Asia, Africa,
and America in England. We may encompass the world with Drake, and make
new discoveries with Columbus; we may visit the Grand Signior in the
Seraglio, converse with Seneca, and consult with Cæsar. In a word,
whatever humanity has done that is noble, great, and surprising, either
by action or suffering, may by us be done over again in theory, and, if
we have souls capable of transcribing the bravest copies, we may meet
instances worth our emulation.”

After the essays upon divinity and history there are others upon
philosophy, law, physic, surgery, mathematics, and arithmetic, all of
them brief, but very able; and, in connexion with each, a list of books
which Samuel Wesley recommends to be read and studied. In these lists,
Wesley displays his taste for the best literature then published, and
also the immense extent of his own reading and research.

In his essay on _Poetry_, he says, “Poetry was the first philosophy the
world was blest with, and had that influence on the minds of men, then
fallen from their primitive reason into the wildest barbarity, that it
soon brought them to civility, and to know the dictates of reason from
those of fancy.”

He then advises “candidates for the laurel” to “consider the difficulty
of being a good poet.” “Mediocrity is intolerable in poetry, however
excusable in other affairs.” “A young poet should never be ambitious of
writing much, for a little gold is worth a great heap of lead.” “To be a
perfect poet, a man must be a general scholar, skilled both in the
tongues and sciences, and must be perfect in history and moral
philosophy.”

Such was Samuel Wesley’s estimate of the qualifications of a perfect
poet. Perhaps it would have been better if he himself had observed some
of his own rules more strictly than what he did. Dunton says: “Mr Wesley
had an early inclination to poetry, but he usually wrote too fast to
write well. Two hundred couplets a day are too many by two-thirds to be
well furnished with all the beauties and graces of that art.”[73]

-----

Footnote 73:

  Dunton’s _Life and Errors_.

-----

In Mr Wesley’s article on “Dialling,” there is the following beautiful
sentence: “Time is the greatest treasure in this world that a mortal can
be intrusted with. We are not only probationers for eternity by the help
of time, but even the little interests of this world are managed by the
means of it. To divide time by dials, clocks, and watches, is a faint
imitation of God Almighty, who has divided the year into spring, summer,
autumn, and winter, and even our life into days and nights.”

Of _Geometry_ he writes: “All our most necessary as well as most noble
arts and sciences depend on it. None of the mechanical arts can ever be
brought to perfection without it; and if painters were ignorant of
proportion, angles, circles, and squares, all their works would want
beauty, and themselves would want satisfaction. A joiner cannot so much
as cut a round table unless he understands a circle; nor a carpenter
square a piece of timber unless he know, by the rule of square figures,
when his work is finished. The watch and clock makers would be at a
loss, if it were not for this science; and no builder could regularly
design a fabric without a knowledge of geometrical problems. Navigation
and gunnery can never be understood without geometry; and to these I may
add, fortification, dialling, music, astronomy, and surveying. It would
be needless to say any more of the advantages of geometry, here being
enough to fire the mind of any ingenious student to a diligent inquiry
into it.”

Writing on _Optics_, he says: “’Tis pleasant to undeceive the eye in the
common accidents of life, and to see it approach, in some measure,
towards that certainty of judging and apprehending _visibles_ that it
will attain to at the day of resurrection, when it will be above the
power of being cheated by concave or convex, or deluded by a refraction
or reflection. This may, in a great measure, be accomplished in this
world by such as give themselves up to the study of optics.”

There are other articles on painting, astronomy, and navigation, and
glances at geography, music, architecture, grammar, and rhetoric. The
general “Essay on all Sorts of Learning” concludes thus: “Whoever makes
a trial of the worth of learning will find that all encomiums come far
short of the thing itself; and that those only can best reflect upon its
value who are sensible of the enjoyment of it.”

Such, then, is a general outline of the contents of “The Young Student’s
Library,” published in 1692; but no one can form an adequate idea of the
work without seeing it. None but immense readers and careful writers
like Samuel Wesley and his Athenian friends could have put such a book
together.

It was the intention of the Athenian Society to have followed up the
publication of the “Young Student’s Library” with another work—“A New
System of Experimental Philosophy upon the Four Elements”—and embracing
a description of strange appearances, noises, strange winds,
subterranean steams, waters, their properties and inhabitants, earths of
all sorts, plants and trees, husbandry, animals, insects, birds,
reptiles, fishes, extraordinary buildings and extraordinary persons,
antiquities, &c.;[74] but I am not aware that this was ever issued.

-----

Footnote 74:

  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. iv. p. 65.

-----

Contemporaneously with the publication of the “Young Student’s Library,”
Mr Wesley was employed upon another work, which has never yet been
noticed by any Wesleyan biographer. In vol. vi. of the _Athenian
Gazette_, it is announced that the Athenian Society have bought the
right to a “Monthly Journal of Books,” and that this journal will now be
carried on by a “London Divine,” under the title of “The Complete
Library; or, News for the Ingenious;” and that it will be issued
monthly, beginning with the month of May 1692.

The work was published accordingly. We have seen and examined three of
the volumes, containing between four and five hundred pages each, and
extending from May 1692 to March 1694. The numbers are divided into
three sections: 1. Original pieces; 2. An account of the choicest books
printed in England and on the Continent of Europe; 3. Notes on current
events.

The first article is entitled, “A Discourse concerning the Integrity and
Purity of the Hebrew Bible; by the Author of a Discourse concerning the
Antiquity of the Hebrew Points, Vowels, and Accents,”—thus plainly
intimating that the “London Divine,” who had the management of the work,
was none other than Samuel Wesley. Besides, no one acquainted with Mr
Wesley’s mode of thinking and style of writing, can have any hesitation
in pronouncing him the author.

He maintains that all religion stands or falls as we can defend and
prove the integrity of the Hebrew copy of the Bible; and his principal
object is to refute the opinions of Capellus, the leader of all those
who say the Hebrew Bible has been corrupted. The article is learned and
able, and fills twenty-four small quarto pages.

In succeeding numbers there are kindred articles, evidently by the same
practised pen. One is on “Scripture Chronology;” another is, “A Critical
Inquiry into the Number, Names, Division, and Order of the Books of the
Old Testament;” another is, “The Ancient Manner of Reading, Writing, and
Preserving the Law of Moses, as an evidence of the unparalleled care
taken in former times to preserve the Bible in its purity and
perfection;” another is, “A Scriptural Account of the Nature, Original,
and Divine Authority of the Bible, as it is Canonical, in opposition to
the Apocrypha, and all other books of human composition or oral
tradition;” and another is, “On the Evidences of the Divine Original of
the Scriptures; on the Ways and Means of understanding the Scriptures;
and on the Necessity and Excellency of their use and Study.”

The three volumes contain reviews of nearly two hundred books and other
publications; the first of which is a review of “The Life of the Rev.
Thomas Brand; and his Funeral Sermon, by Dr Annesley.” It is scarce
likely that the whole of these reviews were written by Mr Wesley; but it
is more than probable that he was the reviewer of this work of his
wife’s father. He thinks that “Dissenters and Churchmen will soon be
better friends; and though they may not be able to unite so perfectly as
to come under one form of discipline, yet they may give one another the
right hand of fellowship, and be without any other heat than that of
holy emulation, which shall excel in practical godliness, and in the
lively exercises of those graces that shall be most beneficial to
mankind, and of most edification to the Church of Christ.”

The frontispiece of each monthly number is curious: in one corner, is a
clergyman in gown and bands and a broad-brimmed hat; in another, a
scholar writing at a desk; and between the two, a hive of bees,
surrounded by plants and flowers; while above and below are three
mottoes, viz., “_Sic nos non nobis mellificamus apes_;” “_Omnia in
libris_;” and,

                  “All plants yield honey, as you see,
                  To the industrious chymic bee.”

It is only fair to add, that on the title-page of vol. ii., the
“Complete Library” is said to be “by R. W.,” Master of Arts, but there
can be little doubt that the “R” is a misprint.

During Mr Wesley’s retired residence at South Ormsby, he was engaged in
other literary undertakings. In 1693, the year after the publication of
the “Young Student’s Library,” he printed a new work, entitled, “The
Life of our Blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ: An Heroic Poem.
Dedicated to her most sacred Majesty; in Ten Books. Attempted by Samuel
Wesley, Rector of South Ormsby, in the county of Lincoln. Each book
illustrated by necessary notes, explaining all the more difficult
matters in the whole history. Also a Prefatory Discourse concerning
Heroic Poetry; with sixty copperplates. London: Printed for Charles
Harper, at the Flower-de-Luce, over against St Dunstan’s Church, in
Fleet Street; and Benjamin Motte, in Aldersgate Street. 1693.”

The volume is folio in size, contains 349 pages, and is divided into ten
books, consisting of nearly 9000 lines. The preface, which fills
fourteen closely-printed pages, is an elaborate production, and well
written. At the close of it, Wesley says he knows the faults of his
book, and would have mended much that is amiss if he had lived in an age
when a man might afford to spend nine or ten years about a poem.

Prefixed to the work are a number of commendatory verses by Nahum Tate,
poet-laureate, and by others. Tate praises the book and its author to
the utmost stretch of poetical eulogium. He regards Samuel Wesley as one
who has completed the task which Milton left unfinished; and represents
him as a great bard emerging from solitude, fired with rapture, and
charmingly unfolding the great themes of angelic hymns, and weaving wit
and piety together. His spotless muse brings fresh laurels from
Parnassus, and plants them on Mount Zion.

L. Milbourne and Peter Anthony Motteaux are equally lavish of their
praises; and both of these writers were men of mark. It is true that
Pope gives Milbourne a niche in his “Dunciad;” but Dunton, who knew him
well, observes concerning him, “Most other perfections are so far from
matching his, that they deserve not to be mentioned; his translations
are fine and true; his preaching sublime and rational; and he is a
first-rate poet.” Motteaux was a native of France, and was driven to
England by the revocation of the edict of Nantes. At first, he kept a
large East India warehouse in Leadenhall Street. He was master of
several languages, and, during his residence in England, he acquired so
perfect a knowledge of the English tongue, that he became a very eminent
dramatic writer in a language to which he was not a native. On his
birthday, in 1717, he was found dead in a disorderly house in London,
not without suspicion of having been murdered.

In opposition to such eulogists, it is only fair to state, that Dunton
describes Wesley’s “Life of Christ” as “intolerably dull;” and it has
been asserted, that Alexander Pope had so mean an opinion of its merits,
that, in one of the early editions of his “Dunciad,” he honoured Wesley
with a place in the Temple of Dulness.[75] The work was also fiercely
assailed by Samuel Palmer, (to be noticed hereafter,) to whom Wesley
replied,[76] “I know my poem is very faulty; but whether it be in itself
so absolutely contemptible as Mr Palmer represents it, I desire may be
left to more impartial judges. If he will be so kind as to let me know
the particular faults of that poem, I shall own myself highly obliged to
him, and will take care to correct them. I am sensible there are too
many incorrect lines in it, which had better been left out; but I
remember, too, some lines struck out which, perhaps, had been as well
left in. I care not if I oblige him with two or three of them, which
were in the original but were not printed, and leave him to guess the
reason—

             “Or murmuring deep with harsh incondite tone,
             With eyes reversed, and many a brutal groan,
             We are the favour’d few, the elect alone.”

Badcock, in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1784, tells us that Wesley’s
“heroic poem, the ‘Life of Christ,’ excited the ridicule of the wits.”
John Wesley, in his reply to this, in the same periodical for 1785, p.
246, simply states, that his father’s own account of it was, “The cuts
are good; the notes pretty good; the verses so-so.” Samuel Wesley, jun.,
ardently loved his father, and admired his genius, but speaks of his
“Life of Christ” in the following measured terms:—

           “Whate’er his strains, still glorious was his end:
           Faith to assert, and virtue to defend.
           He sung how God his Saviour deigned to expire,
           With Vida’s piety, though not his fire.”

John Wesley, who, though he seldom wrote poetry, had as fine poetic
taste as any member of his family, observes: “In my father’s poem on the
‘Life of Christ’ there are many excellent lines, but they must be taken
in connexion with the rest. It would not be at all proper to print them
separate.”[77]

-----

Footnote 75:

  The edition of the “Dunciad” in which Wesley appeared was a
  surreptitious one. The following were the lines printed:—

            “How all the suffering brotherhood retire,
            And ’scape the martyrdom of jakes and fire;
            A Gothic library of Greece and Rome,
            Well purged; and worthy Wesley, Watts, and Brome.”

  The author of “The Life and Times of Dr Isaac Watts” affirms that
  Watts remonstrated with Pope, and, in consequence, his name was
  deprived of the undesirable distinction. He also adds, that “the elder
  Wesley’s name was probably omitted owing to the interposition of his
  son Samuel, who corresponded with Pope, and was highly esteemed by
  him,” (Watts’ _Life_, p. 436.) There may be some truth in this. In an
  edition of the “Dunciad” now lying before us, and published in 1729,
  the last line is printed—

          “Well purged, and worthy Withers, Quarles, and Blome.”

  And to this is appended the following note:—“It was printed in the
  surreptitious editions, ‘W—ly, W—s,’ who were persons eminent for good
  life; the one writ the ‘Life of Christ’ in verse; the other some
  valuable pieces in the lyric kind on pious subjects. The line is here
  restored according to its original.”

Footnote 76:

  Wesley’s _Defence of his Letter on Education of Dissenters_.

Footnote 77:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Dr Adam Clarke, in reference to the same production, writes: “When a
poet, no matter of what abilities, takes for the subject of his verse
the sayings or acts of the Almighty, as recorded in the Bible, he must
of necessity fail, speak untruths, and sink below himself. Who can add
to the dignity, importance, or majesty of the words of God by any
poetical clothing? The attempt to do it is almost impious; and, in the
execution, how many words are attributed to God which He never spake,
and acts which He never did! The life of our Lord was never found, and
never will be found, but in the four evangelists.”[78]

-----

Footnote 78:

  _Ibid._

-----

Dr Coke, who published a “corrected and abridged” edition of Samuel
Wesley’s “Life of Christ” more than a hundred years after the first
edition was issued, says in his preface:—“I found the poet had carefully
collected the richest materials, with a sedulity that surpassed my
expectation, and had arranged them with a degree of art that nothing but
the hand of a master could have reached. In surveying the character of
Christ as here delineated, no remarkable incident in His life, from the
cradle to His cross, has been omitted; nay, if we even take a wider
range, every event of moment is noted, from the espousals of His mother
to His resurrection from the dead, and His final ascension to glory.
Indeed, the life of Christ, being closely connected with both time and
eternity, presented to the poet an occasion to draw aside the curtain
which divides the visible from the invisible world. Both heaven and hell
are permitted to burst upon us; the former to ravish us with its
glories, and the latter to alarm us with its terrors. Hence angels and
devils pass in review before our eyes; relate what is past, discover
their condition, perform their respective actions, and retire.”

Wesley’s poem is far from perfect. In many places it flashes with the
highest kind of genius, and throughout it breathes with piety. The
reader will find hundreds of lines full of poetic beauty; but then he
will find others that are extremely tame, and literally limp for want of
poetic feet. There can be no doubt that Samuel Wesley wrote too much for
his writings to be faultless. “He wrote _very much_ for me,” says
Dunton, “both in verse and prose.” How much he wrote no one living has
the means of knowing. Dunton says, “he wrote two hundred couplets a
day.” He might do that when composing pieces for the _Athenian Gazette_,
but it is incredible to think that this was done when he was composing
“The Life of Christ;” for, in that case, the whole of that large folio
poem would have been begun and finished in about three weeks.

The “Life of Christ” was first published in 1693. With all its faults,
the edition was soon sold; and in 1697 the author issued a “revised and
improved” edition, with “a large map of the Holy Land, and a table of
the principal contents.”

The plates used in this second edition are said to have been engraved
“by the celebrated hand of William Fairthorn;” but if so, they must have
been engraved long before the first edition was published, inasmuch as
Fairthorn died as early as 1691. Fairthorn was an ingenious artist; but
lived a chequered life. As a royalist, he was taken prisoner at the
breaking out of the civil wars, and for a length of time was confined in
Aldersgate. His place of business was near Temple Bar, where he sold not
only his own engravings, but those of other English artists, and
imported a considerable number of prints from Holland, France, and
Italy. About 1680 he left his shop, and went to reside in Printing House
Yard, where he continued to work for booksellers, until a lingering
consumption put an end to his life in 1691. Such was Samuel Wesley’s
engraver.

From the preface of the book, we learn that the poem was begun in
Anglesea and the Isle of Man, and afterwards “completed in several parts
of England.” Wesley says the subject was first proposed to him by
certain of his friends, and that he greedily embraced it; though, at the
time, he knew nothing of the rules propounded by the masters of epic
poetry. In reference to his object in publishing the book, he writes, “I
desire to recommend the whole of the Christian religion; all the
articles of faith; all that system of theology and morality contained in
the gospel of the blessed Jesus; and to vindicate His mission, His
satisfaction, and His divinity, against all Jews, Turks, Infidels, and
Heretics.”

Perhaps enough has been said respecting this folio “Life of Christ.” Let
the curious reader, when he has the chance, purchase it for himself. The
sentiments and the spirit of the book cannot fail to be of service to
every one who gives it a fair perusal; whilst many of its lines will be
found to be ponderous with thought, and full of genius. As a proof of
this, we conclude the chapter with four quotations. The first is
Wesley’s description of the glorious scene witnessed on Mount Tabor, and
is, in fact, the first piece of the poem:—

         “To Tabor’s mount He beckon’d from the sky,
         Two glorious saints who reign’d enthroned on high;
         Moses, the leader of God’s chosen band,
         Who nature’s laws inverted with his wand;
         With him Elijah, who sublimely rode
         A car of lightning to the throne of God;
         Thus Law and Prophets their perfection find
         In Him, the hope, the price of lost mankind;
         Thus Christ, and Moses, and Elias came,
         Their persons different, but their views the same.
         Unrivall’d beauties deck’d the Saviour’s face,
         His dazzling form the circling glories grace;
         His seamless coat, than falling snows more white,
         Enclosed a pillar of transparent light.
         The two great prophets, who beside Him stood,
         Array’d in light their modest glories show’d.
         Thus stars appear, when, twinkling, they display
         Their feeble lustre to the orb of day;
         Yet Moses, who from trembling Sinai came,
         Appear’d encircled in a robe of flame;
         While great Elijah, half-conceal’d from sight,
         Shone with strange lustre through a cloud of light.
         Transports of joy fill’d each disciple’s breast,
         Too big for utterance, or to be repress’d;
         Around their heads celestial clouds arise,
         Which rather brighten than conceal the skies;
         Compared with day they seem’d divinely fair,
         And scatter’d odours through the balmy air;
         Form’d of materials most serenely bright,
         They shone a tissue of unsullied light.
         The three apostles, as the clouds prevail,
         Felt all their spirits and their muscles fail;
         Their loins relax, their knees no strength impart,
         And fear and trembling seize on every heart.
         Low on the earth, dissolved in reverent fear,
         They heard a voice, which none but they must hear;
         The voice of God; no more in frowns express’d,
         With lightnings written, or in thunder dress’d,
         Such as at Sinai issued forth the Law,
         And, with dread earthquakes, rock’d the plains below;
         But all melodious, tranquil, and serene,
         Which charm’d like music this delightful scene;
         In words like these the will of God was given,
         In attestation of the King of heaven:
         ‘I thus declare Thee my beloved Son,
         Whom all my servants shall both hear and own.’”

The following lines on the Deity are what no one but a philosopher and a
poet could have written:—

               “Before this beauteous world was made,
               Before the earth’s foundations laid,
               He was, He ever is, we know not how!
           No mean succession His duration knows,
           That spring of being neither ebbs nor flows:
           Whatever was, was God, ere time or place;
           Endless duration He, and boundless space,
           Fill’d with Himself, wherever thought can pierce,
           He fill’d, Himself alone, the universe.”

The next extract refers to the personality and divinity of our Saviour:—

             “The Father’s image He, as great, as bright,
             Clothed in the same insufferable light;
             More closely join’d, more intimately one
             With His great Father, than the light and sun.
                 Equal in goodness and in might,
                 True God of God, and light of light;
                 Him, with the Father, we adore:
                 There is no after, or before.”

The following is part of Wesley’s description of the last judgment:—

          “The awful trumps of God! a call they sound,
          Rolling through nature’s universal round;
          That signal heard from the dissolving sky,
          Decrepit nature lays her down to die:
          Not so man’s deathless race, who now revive,
          And must in joy or pain for ever live!
          Vast heaps on heaps, thick orbs on orbs are hurl’d,
          Chaos on chaos, world confused in world;
          Huge spheres, so fast each after other roll’d,
          E’en boundless space their ruins scarce will hold.”

With all due deference to eccentric John Dunton, we submit that such
lines are far from being “intolerably dull.” They were too hastily
written to have the polished rotundity of poets like Young and Pope;
but, notwithstanding this, they are full of poetic fire. The reader, who
is in search of poetic _thoughts_ rather than poetic _sounds_, will find
himself amply recompensed by a careful reading of Wesley’s “Life of
Christ.” We can hardly praise the poem so highly as it is praised by
Nahum Tate; but, at the same, we maintain that, for learning, energy of
thought, vivid imagination, picturesque phrases, and forceful language
in general, it is immeasurably superior to scores of other poems, which,
by accident, have been vastly more popular than it has been. Men brand
Samuel Wesley’s poetry without reading it. This is, in the highest
degree, unfair. In the name of a great and much injured man, we protest
against it; and respectfully request that, for the sake of his memory,
and their own benefit, they would give his poems a careful and candid
perusal.

In the second volume of the _Athenian Oracle_, p. 37, the question is
asked, What books of poetry would you advise one that is young to read?
In the answer, after recommending David’s Psalms, and the poems of
Cowley, Herbert, Chaucer, Milton, Spenser, Tasso, Shakespeare, Beaumont
and Fletcher, Ben Jonson, Dr Donne, and Dryden, it is quietly but
significantly added, “and, if you have patience, Wesley’s Life of
Christ.” Reader, the advice is worth taking, though it was probably
given by Wesley himself.




                              CHAPTER IX.
                  WILLIAM AND MARY’S REIGN—1689–1702.


William and Mary were declared King and Queen of England on the 12th of
February 1689. Their reign is marked by great events—such as the siege
of Londonderry, Lord Dundee’s insurrection in Scotland, the battle of
the Boyne, the surrender of Limerick, the massacre of Glencoe, and the
war with France; but we purposely pass over all civil and military
transactions, and confine our attention to ecclesiastical and literary
affairs, with which Samuel Wesley, as a clergyman and as an author, was
more closely connected.

One of the first acts of William, after his accession to the throne, was
to give orders that, in his private chapel, the service should be said
instead of sung. This alteration was warranted by the rubric, and yet it
caused among the High Church and half-popish party a great amount of
murmuring.

Another of his early acts strangely enough occasioned much excitement.
Touching for the scrofula was a practice which had come down from the
darkest of the dark ages, and William dared to sneer at it. It had been
sanctioned by high ecclesiastical authority, but even that did not deter
the bold monarch from treating it with contempt. Charles II., in the
course of his reign, touched near one hundred thousand persons. In 1682,
only seven years before the commencement of the reign of William, he
performed the royal rite not fewer than eight thousand five hundred
times. Two years later, in 1684, the throng of scrofulous persons was
such that six or seven of the sick were trampled to death. King James,
two or three years after, touched eight hundred persons, in the choir of
Chester Cathedral. The days for touching were fixed by the Privy
Council, and were solemnly notified by the clergy in all the parish
churches of the realm. When the appointed time came, several divines, in
full canonicals, stood round the canopy of state, the surgeon of the
royal household introduced the sick, a passage from 16th chapter of Mark
was read, after which one of the sick was brought to the all-healing
monarch. His Majesty stroked the ulcers and swellings, and hung round
the patient’s neck a white riband, to which was fastened a gold coin.
The other sufferers were then led up in succession, and as each was
touched the chaplain repeated the incantation, “They shall lay their
hands on the sick, and they shall recover.” Then came the epistle,
prayers, antiphonies, and a benediction. Such was the ceremony of
touching for the cure of the king’s evil. The expense of this ceremony,
in the shape of coins put round the sufferers’ necks, was little less
than £10,000 a-year. The whole affair was a huge piece of costly and
superstitious foolery, ending in no beneficial results whatever. We dare
to assert this, notwithstanding the solemn assurance of one of the
surgeons of King Charles II., that the gift of healing was communicated
by the unction administered at the coronation, and that the cures were
so numerous, and sometimes so rapid, that they could not be attributed
to any natural cause whatever.

King William had too much sense to be duped, and too much honesty to
bear a part in what he knew to be an imposture.[79] “It is a silly
superstition,” said he, when he heard that, at the close of Lent, his
palace was besieged by a crowd of sick persons: “give the poor creatures
some money and send them away.” Only on one single occasion was he
successfully importuned to lay his hand on a patient’s sores. “God give
you better health,” he said, “and more sense!” What was the result of
this abandonment of royal practice? The parents of scrofulous children
cried out against William’s cruelty. Bigots lifted up their hands and
eyes at his impiety. Jacobites sarcastically praised him for not
presuming to arrogate to himself a power which belonged only to
legitimate sovereigns. And even some of his own friends thought he acted
unwisely in treating with such marked contempt a superstition which had
so strong a hold on the vulgar mind. But William was not to be moved,
and was accordingly set down by many High Churchmen as an infidel, or at
least a Puritan.

-----

Footnote 79:

  William tried to put down the practice, and yet, as late as Lent, in
  1712, Dr Johnson was “touched” by Queen Anne.

-----

As soon as William and Mary ascended the throne of England the new oath
of allegiance was tendered. It was conceived in the simplest form, the
words “rightful and lawful sovereigns” being, upon mature deliberation,
omitted. Notwithstanding this modification, several members, both of the
House of Lords and the House of Commons, refused to take it. Among these
were the Earls of Clarendon, Lichfield, and Exeter, and likewise seven
bishops, including five who had been sent to the Tower for refusing
obedience to the mandates of James. The spiritual lords who refused the
oath of allegiance to William and Mary were Sancroft, the primate,
Turner, Bishop of Ely, Lake, of Chichester, Ken, of Bath, White, of
Peterborough, Thomas, of Worcester, and Frampton, of Gloucester. Above
four hundred of the clergy, including some of the highest distinction,
followed the example set by Sancroft and the six bishops, and thus began
the schism of the _Nonjurors_,—a term which became as prominent as that
of _Nonconformists_ had been under the last two Stuarts.

The 1st of August, 1689, was the day fixed by Parliament, before the
close of which all beneficed clergymen, and all persons holding
academical offices must, on pain of suspension, swear allegiance to
William and Mary. Above twenty-nine-thirtieths submitted to the law,
but, in general, the compliance was tardy, sad, and sullen. Many, no
doubt, deliberately sacrificed principle to interest, but they had not
fortitude to resign the parsonage, the garden, and the glebe, and to go
forth without knowing where to find a meal, or a roof for themselves and
their little ones. Many swore with doubts and misgivings; still the
thing was done, and ten thousand clergymen solemnly called Heaven to
attest their promise that they would be loyal to King William. The
clergymen and members of the university, who refused to take the oath,
were about four hundred in number, including the primate and six of his
suffragans.

Among these dissentients, there were some who were men of scholarship
and mark, but perhaps it is scarce too much to say, that there was
hardly one who was qualified to discuss any large question of morals or
politics without either extreme feebleness or extreme flightiness of
mind. The following are the most distinguished among them:—

William Sherlock, rector of St George’s, Botolph Lane, prebendary of St
Paul’s, and Master of the Temple; all of which preferments were taken
from him until some years afterwards, when he took the oath and was
reinstated. Dr Sherlock was a good man, but held extreme opinions. He
was the author of several publications, but is chiefly indebted for
celebrity to his “Practical Discourse Concerning Death,” a work which
went through thirty editions in a short space of time, has been printed
in all sizes and forms, and has been applauded by the most able critics.

George Hickes, born at Newsham, in Yorkshire, and educated at
Northallerton, a fellow and a tutor of Lincoln College, Oxford, Dean of
Worcester, with the prospect of becoming Bishop of Bristol. He was the
author of three volumes of sermons, and of a multitude of tracts in
defence of himself and of the other nonjurors. Macaulay says, “Of all
the Englishmen of his time George Hickes was the most versed in the old
Teutonic languages, and his knowledge of the early Christian literature
also was extensive.”

Jeremy Collier, lecturer at Gray’s Inn, a man of intrepid courage,
indefatigable industry, and unsullied integrity; the author of three
volumes of essays on moral subjects; of a translation of Moreri’s
“Historical Dictionary,” in four volumes folio; of an “Ecclesiastical
History of Great Britain,” &c. Macaulay writes:—“Jeremy Collier was a
good man, of eminent abilities, and a great master of sarcasm and of
rhetoric. To his eloquence and courage is to be chiefly ascribed the
purification of our lighter literature from that foul taint which had
been contracted during the Anti-puritan reaction. His reading, too,
though undigested, was of immense extent: but his mind was narrow, his
reasoning singularly futile and inconclusive, and his brain almost
turned by priestly pride.”

Henry Dodwell, Camden Professor of History in the Oxford University, a
man of great learning, of extensive reading, and of unwearied
application, of undissembled piety, and unimpeached integrity; a man of
great benevolence, and who religiously abstained from almost all kinds
of food three days every week; and yet a man of paradoxical notions,
narrow religious sentiments, and who, as a writer, enlisted in the cause
of infidelity, and attacked revelation in the disguise of a friend. The
brilliant historian above quoted says:—“Dodwell had perused innumerable
volumes in various languages, and acquired more learning than his
slender faculties were able to bear. The small intellectual spark which
he possessed was put out by the fuel. Some of his books seem to have
been written in a madhouse; and, though filled with proofs of his
immense reading, degrade him to the level of Ludowich Muggleton. He
published a treatise in which he maintained that a marriage between a
member of the Church of England and a Dissenter was a nullity, and that
the couple were in the sight of Heaven guilty of adultery. He defended
the use of instrumental music in public worship, on the ground that the
notes of the organ had a power to counteract the influence of devils on
the spinal marrow of human beings. He further maintained that our souls
are naturally mortal, and that the gift of immortality is conveyed in
the sacrament of baptism; but, in order to the efficacy of the
sacrament, it is absolutely necessary that the water be poured, and the
words be pronounced by a priest who has been ordained by a bishop.”

John Kettlewell, born at Northallerton, fellow and tutor of Lincoln
College, Oxford, domestic chaplain of the Countess of Bedford, and
rector of Coleshill in Warwickshire; a celebrated preacher, a laborious
writer; learned without being proud, and wise without being cunning;
devout without affectation, religious without morosity, and courteous
without flattery. His works, which were numerous, were published in two
volumes folio.

Charles Leslie, chancellor of the cathedral church of the diocese of
Connor, one of the ablest champions the Non-jurors had; a man of
extensive learning and great merit, and the well-known author of “A
Short and Easy Method with the Deists.”

To the above, of course, must be added the primate and the six bishops.
Dr Birch, in drawing Sancroft’s character, says:—“He was slow, timorous,
and narrow-spirited; but at the same time a good, honest, and
well-meaning man. He was laborious in his studies, and had written,
perhaps, more with his own hand than any person of his time. But the
three sermons which he published give us a very low idea of his taste
and judgment, and are more suitable to a disciple of Bishop Andrews than
a contemporary of Dr Tillotson.” Turner, Bishop of Ely, was a man of
higher position than of intellect. Lake, Bishop of Chichester, is also
unknown to fame. Ken, Bishop of Bath, in some respects was a man of
mark; his works, all of a theological and practical turn, were published
in four volumes octavo. He was a man of great integrity and courage;
and, though deprived of his bishopric, to the day of his death signed
himself “late Bishop of Bath and Wells.” He died in 1710, having been in
the habit for many years of travelling with his shroud in his
portmanteau, and which he always put on when attacked by illness. White
of Peterborough is scarce worth mentioning. Thomas of Worcester died
during the first year of William and Mary’s reign; and of Frampton of
Gloucester we know nothing which is worth relating.

These, then, were the principal men among the Non-jurors; and these,
with four hundred clergymen, forfeited their ecclesiastical benefices,
and formed a sort of _non-juring_ church, avowedly Jacobite in its
political predilections and principles, and, which for many years, waged
a fierce controversy with the Establishment on the theological aspects
of the question which divided them. The non-juring system had a few
lay-adherents, but it extended beyond the clergy only to a very limited
extent. The new sect was a sect of preachers without hearers. A few had
independent means. Some lived by literature; one or two practised
physic. Thomas Wagstaffe, for example, who had been chancellor of
Lichfield, had many patients, and made himself conspicuous among them by
always visiting them in full canonicals. But these were exceptions. Most
of the Non-jurors found themselves thrown on the world with nothing to
eat and nothing to do. They naturally degenerated into beggars and
loungers, and many of them became domesticated as chaplains, tutors, and
spiritual directors in the houses of opulent Jacobites.[80] The schism
of the Non-jurors, however, led to great changes among the occupants of
Church offices; and, before the end of the third year of King William’s
reign, he had issued no fewer than eighteen _conges_ for the election of
new bishops. During this brief period, sixteen new prelates, all
indebted for their promotion to the existing government, and recommended
by their attachment to the principles of the Revolution, were introduced
into the House of Lords; and of the whole twenty-six sees then existing,
only ten were left in the possession of persons who had been bishops in
the reign of James.[81]

-----

Footnote 80:

  Macaulay.

Footnote 81:

  Knight’s _History of England_.

-----

On the 24th of May 1689, the _Act of Toleration_ became law. This act,
long considered as the Great Charter of religious liberty, has since
been extensively modified, and is hardly known to the present generation
except by name. The several statutes passed between the accession of
Queen Elizabeth and the Revolution, requiring all people, under severe
penalties, to attend the services of the Church of England, and to
abstain from attending conventicles, were left unrepealed; but provision
was made that they should not be construed to extend to any person, who
should testify his loyalty by taking the oaths of allegiance and
supremacy, and his protestantism, by subscribing the declaration against
transubstantiation. The severe Act of Uniformity, the Five Mile Act, and
the Conventicle Act were not repealed, but merely relaxed; it being
provided that dissenting ministers might preach, if they professed,
under their hand, their belief in the Articles of the Church of England,
with a few exceptions, such as, that the Church has power to regulate
ceremonies, that the doctrines in the Book of Homilies are sound, and
that there is nothing superstitious and idolatrous in the ordination
service. But unless the minister subscribed thirty-four out of the
thirty-nine Articles, and the greater part of two other Articles, he
could not preach without incurring all the punishments which the
cavaliers, in the day of their power and vengeance, had devised for the
tormenting and ruining of schismatical teachers. Such were the terms on
which the Protestant Dissenters of England were, for the first time,
permitted by law to worship God according to their own consciences. They
were, on the above conditions, allowed to attend their own places of
worship, provided they were duly registered, and had not the doors
locked or barred. They were protected against hostile intrusion, and it
was made a penal offence to enter a meeting-house for the purpose of
molesting a congregation. The only classes of religionists excepted from
the benefits of this act were the Papists and Socinians.[82]

-----

Footnote 82:

  Knight’s _History of England_, and Macaulay’s _History_.

-----

Many of the Dissenters were still dissatisfied, and wished other matters
of grievance to be settled in parliament. Accordingly, what was called
the “Comprehension Bill” was brought into the House of Lords. The chief
object of this bill was to admit Presbyterian ministers into the Church,
without compelling them to acknowledge the invalidity of their former
ordination; and it also proposed to allow certain ceremonial forms in
public worship to be observed or omitted at discretion.

This bill passed the House of Lords; but the Commons considered the
question as more suitable for a convocation; and the Lords concurred in
an address to the throne to that effect.

To prepare the way for convocation a royal commission was issued,
authorising certain individuals to meet and propose alterations in the
Liturgy and Canons, and to consider other matters connected with the
Church. The commissioners thus appointed were Lamplugh, Compton, Mew,
Lloyd, Sprat, Smith, Trelawney, Burnet, Humphreys, Stratford, all
bishops at the time; also Stillingfleet, Patrick, Tillotson, Sharp,
Hall, Beveridge, Tennison, Fowler, Grove, and Williams, who were
subsequently raised to the Episcopal bench; and likewise Meggot, Kidder,
Aldridge, Jane, Beaumont, Montague, Goodman, Battely, Alston, and Scott,
who, though distinguished men, never attained to prelatical honours.

The commissioners frequently met, but some of the members absented
themselves, especially Dr Jane, the Regius Professor of Divinity in
Oxford, on the ground that alterations were not required, and that the
present was not the season for such discussions. Burnet says, “We had
before us all the books and papers that the Nonconformists had at any
time offered, setting forth their demands, together with many advices
and propositions which had been made at several times by most of the
best and most learned of our divines; and so we prepared a scheme to be
laid before convocation.”

The following are some of the alterations that were proposed:—Chanting
to be discontinued. Apochryphal lessons to be left out of the calendar.
The sign of the cross in baptism to be omitted when desired. The
sacramental elements to be administered in pews to those who might
object to kneeling. The absolution to be read by deacons. The _Gloria
Patri_ not to be repeated at the end of every psalm. In the _Te Deum_
the words only-begotten Son to be substituted for _thine honourable,
true, and only Son_. All titles of the king and queen to be omitted, and
the word “sovereign” only used. The Collects to be revised by Patrick.
Sponsors to be disused if desired. The great festivals, as a rule, to be
retained; but it was not thought desirable that St Valentine, St Chad,
St Swithin, St Dunstan, and St Alphage, should share the honours of St
John and St Paul. The Athanasian creed to be kept in the Prayer-Book,
but Stillingfleet was to draw up a rubric, declaring that the damnatory
clauses were to be understood to apply only to such as obstinately
denied the substance of the Christian faith. The point of greatest
difficulty was that of _re-ordination_; but it was at last agreed that
the hypothetical _form_ should be adopted in the case of Dissenters, as
in the case of uncertain baptism, in these words “_If thou art not
already ordained, I ordain thee_.” Such were some of the alterations
proposed by the commissioners.[83] It mattered little, however, whether
the recommendations of the commissioners were good or bad. They were all
doomed before they were published; for the clergy were all smarting from
being recently compelled to take the oaths, and were resolved to defeat
a favourite scheme of that government which had exacted from them, under
severe penalties, a submission not easily to be reconciled to their
conscience or their pride.

-----

Footnote 83:

  See Lathbury’s _History of Convocation_.

-----

The convocation, it may be observed, though regularly assembled with
every parliament since the Restoration, had done no business since the
year 1662; so that the members were detained in town, at considerable
expense, during the session, merely to go through the parade of reading
the church service in Latin; but now it was proposed to submit to their
consideration most important changes.

The convocation, summoned by the writ of King William, assembled on the
21st of November 1689. Compton was in the chair. Beveridge preached a
Latin sermon, in which he warmly eulogised the existing system, and yet
declared himself favourable to a moderate reform. The struggle between
the advocates for change and those who wished to preserve the Liturgy in
its present state commenced at the very outset, in the election of a
prolocutor. Tillotson, who was known to speak the sense both of the king
and queen, and was also supported by the government, was proposed by Dr
Sharp, afterwards Archbishop of York; but the election of Dr Jane was
carried by a majority of two to one. Jane, of course, belonged to the
High-Church party. He had borne a chief part in framing that decree by
which the University of Oxford ordered the works of Milton to be
publicly burned in the schools; and yet the same man had repaired to the
headquarters of the Prince of Orange, and had assured his Highness that
Oxford would willingly coin her plate for the support of the war against
her oppressor. For a short time Jane had been regarded as a Whig, now he
was a Tory. He had demanded the see of Exeter as a reward due to his
services, but had been refused; and hence his changed sentiments. At the
time several epigrams were written on the double-faced _Janus_, who,
having got a professorship by looking one way, now hoped to get a
bishopric by looking another.

On November 25th the prolocutor was presented to the Upper House, on
which occasion he expatiated on the excellency of the Church of England,
as at present constituted, intimating that no amendments could be made,
and closing with the words, _nolumus leges Angliæ mutari_. The Bishop of
London, as president of the Upper House, replied that the clergy ought
to be prepared to make concessions in matters not essential, and that it
was their duty to show some indulgence to the Dissenters under King
William, since some of the bishops and clergy had pledged themselves to
do so in their addresses to King James.

At the next meeting, the Bishop of London informed the convocation that
the royal commission was defective, inasmuch as the great seal had not
been attached to it. They were, therefore, prorogued until the defect
was supplied. In the interval, great exertions were made by the
government to bring over some of the stiffest opponents in the Lower
House, but with small success. On the 4th of December, the royal
commission was communicated to the convocation, by which they were
authorised to act. The commission stated that, “as rites and ceremonies
are indifferent and alterable,” changes might be made according to the
exigencies of times and places, that it was desirable that the canons
should be reviewed, and the ecclesiastical courts reformed. The
convocation was accordingly empowered to treat of alterations, and to
form canons and constitutions, to be submitted to his Majesty.

The king also sent a message, by the Earl of Nottingham, in which he
expressed his hope that convocation would not “disappoint his good
intentions, or deprive the Church of any benefit from their
consultations.”

Of course, it was necessary to acknowledge the royal message, by an
address to his Majesty. This gave rise to vexatious and most
disreputable squabbles; and the result was, that, without any discussion
whatever on the important matters that had been recommended by the royal
commissioners, convocation was dissolved on February 6, 1690; nor was it
suffered to meet again for the transaction of business for the next ten
years. Thus ended the project for _comprehending_ Dissenters within the
pale of the Church of England, the last attempt of the kind that has
been made.[84]

-----

Footnote 84:

  Lathbury’s _History of Convocation_, and Knight’s _History of
  England_.

-----

From this time dates the long struggle between the two great parties of
Conformists. These parties, indeed, had, under various forms, existed
within the Anglican communion ever since the Reformation; but, till
after the Revolution, they were not marshalled in regular and permanent
order of battle against each other, and therefore were not known by
established names. Now they began to be called the High-Church party and
the Low-Church party. The High-Church party sympathised with James, and
were cool friends to William, and thought that no man who was an enemy
to the ecclesiastical constitution of the realm ought to be permitted to
bear any part in the civil government. The Low-Church party stood
between the Nonconformists and the rigid Conformists, and contained, as
it still contains, two different elements—a Puritan and a Latitudinarian
element. They saw nothing in the existing polity and ceremonial of the
Church of England which could make it their duty to become Dissenters;
but, at the same time, they held that both the polity and ceremonial
were means, not ends, and that the essential spirit of Christianity
might exist without Episcopal orders, and without a Book of Common
Prayer. They had, while James was on the throne, been mainly
instrumental in forming the great Protestant coalition against Popery
and tyranny, and they continued, in 1689, to hold the same conciliatory
language which they had held in 1688. They greatly blamed the scruples
of the Nonconformists, but thought the reflections thrown on them by the
High-Church party to be grossly unjust.[85]

-----

Footnote 85:

  Macaulay.

-----

More than one Methodist historian has said that Samuel Wesley was “a
rigid Tory in politics, and a High Churchman in religious principle;”
that he “regarded Charles I. as properly a martyr; and was very much
attached to the interests of James.” I respectfully doubt, to some
extent, the correctness of these assertions.

Samuel Wesley was not a Jacobite, and, in the first instance, he was not
a Tory. There is no evidence to show that he was attached to the
interests of James; but, on the contrary, he was disgusted with James’s
tyranny at Oxford, and was the author of the first pamphlet published in
defence of the Revolution. John Wesley says, his father was a Tory, in
the sense of being “one that believes God, not the people, to be the
origin of all civil power;”[86] but he likewise asserts, that his
“father always praised God for the happy revolution of 1688.”[87]

-----

Footnote 86:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. xiv., p. 342.

Footnote 87:

  _Gent. Mag._, 1785, p. 247.

-----

Then as it regards his being a High Churchman;—it is true that he
considered Charles I. as an injured sovereign and properly a martyr. He
held the same opinions as his son John, who writes, “All agree that King
Charles was a pattern of piety, sobriety, temperance, and chastity. He
could not endure an obscene or profane word. He was punctual in his
devotions, both public and private. He was rigorously just; but is
supposed to have been sometimes wanting in sincerity. He was a good
father, a good master, and a good husband; yea, a fond one, which was
the chief source of his troubles, together with the wrong bias towards
arbitrary power which had been instilled into him from his infancy. But
for this, he would have been one of the most accomplished princes that
ever sat upon the English throne.”[88] But allowing that Samuel Wesley
held such opinions,—what then? Is that a proof that Samuel Wesley was,
“in religious principle, a High Churchman?” We greatly doubt it.

-----

Footnote 88:

  Wesley’s _History of England_, vol. iii. p. 221.

-----

The High-Church party were most bitter opponents of Tillotson, the
leader of the Low-Church party; whereas, Samuel Wesley was his ardent
admirer, and even excessive eulogist. The High-Church party were most
vehemently opposed to the scheme of Tillotson and King William, for
“Comprehension,” or the uniting of Conformists and Nonconformists; while
on the other hand, the Low-Church party desired its adoption; and, in
this respect, Samuel Wesley agreed with them. He was in favour of
admitting the Dissenters within the pale of the Established Church, and,
therefore, we infer that he was in favour of the modification of church
rites and ceremonies, as recommended by Tillotson and his friends in
1689. The following is an article taken from the _Athenian Oracle_,
(vol. i. p. 301,) and was probably written by Samuel Wesley himself, or
at all events, it was sanctioned by him, as one of the chief members of
the Athenian Society:—

“A Comprehension, or the uniting of Conformists and Nonconformists, is
undoubtedly necessary for the reforming of England. 1. Because the
schism itself, on which side soever the fault lies, is a great sin and
scandal, and highly needs reformation. That there is a schism is as
plain as that one and one are not one, but two; since there are
different churches, different communions, and hearers more different and
opposite than either. 2. This union is further necessary, even to
_personal reformation_, because the want thereof has so much obstructed
it; persons being more concerned for their own particular tenets than
for common Christianity; nay, entertaining the most bitter, scurrilous,
and profane scoffs against the contrary party, even in their most solemn
and religious performances, with approbation and pleasure. Thus while
one laughs at the other’s preaching, and the other at his praying, the
Atheist laughs at both, and there are very many that believe neither. 3.
Another reason is, because we see not how the ancient church discipline,
so much desired, and the loss thereof so much lamented, can ever without
this be renewed. As things now are, let a person be excommunicated in
our Church, he has the Dissenters to fly to; in theirs, he flies to us,
or indeed keeps between both, rails at all, and is of neither. 4. Again,
while this fatal and scandalous division lasts, it cannot be avoided,
but there will still be different interests, and that powerful ones,
whose struggle will be not only dangerous to the State, but breed
animosities, strife, and bitterness in the different parties.”[89]

-----

Footnote 89:

  The reader will find another article, even more explicit, in the
  _Athenian Oracle_, vol. iii. p. 511.

-----

Such were Samuel Wesley’s arguments in favour of the attempt to bring
Dissenters within the pale of the Church of England. This was not the
language of the High-Church party; for that party were most stoutly
opposed to the propounded scheme altogether. Samuel Wesley was no
partisan of theirs; and it is a most unaccountable mistake for
respectable writers to suppose he was. If he was a _party_ man at all,
he unquestionably belonged to the Tillotson or Low-Church party. It is
true, that ten or twelve years afterwards, he was brought into most
painful collision with his Dissenting brethren; but the fault was not
his so much as Mr Clavel’s. The controversy that then took place was
mournfully bitter, but it was prompted more by politics than by
religion; and though it led to a full and final separation between him
and his old Dissenting friends, yet we are not aware that there is a
particle of evidence to show, that after this he imbibed any of the
supercilious and superstitious notions generally entertained by the
High-Church party of the present day. He held his ecclesiastical and
political principles clearly, conscientiously, and firmly; but he was
not a bigot; and, if such a confederacy as the Evangelical Alliance had
then existed, he could, without a scruple, have become a sincere and
active member of it.

Before leaving the High and the Low Church parties in the days of King
William, it may be added, that though the Low-Church clergymen were a
minority, and not a large minority, of their profession, their weight
was much more than proportioned to their numbers. We should probably
overrate their numerical strength if we were to estimate them at a tenth
part of the priesthood. Yet it will scarcely be denied that there were
among them as many men of distinguished eloquence and learning as could
be found in the other nine-tenths put together.

The head of the Low-Church party was the king. He had been bred a
Presbyterian; he was, from rational conviction, a Latitudinarian; and
personal ambition, as well as higher motives, prompted him to act as
mediator among the Protestant sects. He was bent on effecting three
great reforms in the laws touching ecclesiastical matters. 1. To obtain
for Dissenters permission to celebrate their worship in freedom and
security. 2. To make such changes in the Anglican ritual and polity, as,
without offending those to whom that ritual and polity were dear, might
conciliate the moderate Nonconformists. 3. To throw open civil offices
to Protestants without distinction of sect. The first of these only was
attainable. He came too late for the second, and too early for the
third.[90]

-----

Footnote 90:

  Macaulay.

-----

While the preceding events were happening in England, other events of
great importance took place in Scotland. There Episcopacy was abolished,
being a great and insupportable grievance to the nation, and contrary to
the inclinations of the generality of the people. An act was also
passed, in 1690, ordaining that all Presbyterian ministers yet alive,
who had been thrust from their charges since 1661, or banished for not
conforming to Prelacy, should forthwith be restored to their churches,
their manses, and their glebes; and, by another act passed on the 7th of
June, in the same year, parliament ratified and established the
Westminster Confession of Faith, as the public and avowed confession of
the Scottish Church; and restored the government of the Church by
kirk-sessions, presbyteries, provincial synods, and general assemblies.

Such were the opposite effects of the Revolution upon the National
Church in the two ends of the island,—in England consolidating and
confirming the established Episcopacy,—in Scotland sweeping it utterly
away, and in its place re-erecting the old abolished edifice of
presbytery on broader and deeper foundations than ever.

The position in which the Revolution placed the generality of Protestant
Dissenters has been explained in the account given of the Toleration
Act, which was the only measure passed in their favour. From the
benefits of this act the Roman Catholics and the Socinians were
excluded; and, in 1699, the former were placed under greater
restrictions than ever. It was then enacted by parliament,—1. That a
reward of a hundred pounds should be paid to every person who should
apprehend any Popish bishop, priest, or Jesuit, and prosecute him to
conviction, for saying mass, or exercising any other part of his office,
within these realms. 2. That the priest so convicted should be adjudged
to perpetual imprisonment. 3. That the keeping of a school by any Papist
should be punished by the same penalty. 4. That every person, educated
in the Popish religion, or professing the same, who, within six months
after attaining the age of eighteen, should not take the oaths of
allegiance and supremacy, and also subscribe the declaration against
transubstantiation, the invocation of saints, and the sacrifice of the
mass, should be incapable of inheriting, or taking by descent, any
lands, tenements, or hereditaments; and that the next of kin, being a
Protestant, should inherit the estates of which the Roman Catholic was
thus deprived. 5. That all Papists should be incapable of purchasing any
lands, either in their own names or in those of any other persons.[91]

-----

Footnote 91:

  Knight’s _History of England_.

-----

This was a monstrous Act of Parliament; but when we take into
consideration the sneaking perfidy, coarse brutalities, and bloodthirsty
cruelties practised by Papists during late years in Ireland, in
Scotland, and even in England itself,—when we remember that Papists in
foreign lands were concocting dark intrigues against the British throne
and British nation, recently rescued from the tyranny of papal
domination,—and when we remember further, that, as lately as the year
1692, De Grandval, a captain of French dragoons, instigated by the
Popish King James, had entered into a conspiracy against the life of
King William, and had been shot for his intended assassination,—and
that, in 1696, there had been another more widely ramified Popish plot
for the same infernal purpose, which resulted in three of the
conspirators being executed at Tyburn,—we are prepared to understand why
Papists were excluded from the benefits of the Toleration Act, and why
they were made the subjects of the legalised persecution of the act of
1699, “for the further preventing of the growth of Popery.” Abstractedly
considered, the act was monstrous, and merits reprobation; but severe
maladies sometimes need severe remedies to effect their cure.

Our space forbids any further review of ecclesiastical affairs during
William and Mary’s reign; and we must now content ourselves with
miscellaneous notices of this eventful period in English history.

In 1690 occurred the death of a man whose name, despite his almost
insane eccentricities, will always occupy a place in English Church
annals. More than forty years had elapsed, says Macaulay, since George
Fox had begun to see visions and to cast out devils. He was then a youth
of pure morals and grave deportment, with a perverse temper, with the
education of a labouring man, and with an intellect in the most unhappy
of all states; that is to say, too much disordered for liberty, and not
sufficiently disordered for bedlam. At the time, Episcopalians,
Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists were refuting and reviling
each other. He applied in vain for spiritual direction and consolation.
One jolly old clergyman told him to smoke tobacco and to sing psalms;
another counselled him to go and lose some blood. After some time, he
came to the conclusion that no human being was competent to instruct him
in divine things; and that the truth had been communicated to himself by
direct inspiration from Heaven. He argued that, as the confusion of
languages began at Babel, and that, as the persecutors of Christ put on
the cross an inscription in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, the knowledge of
languages, and more especially of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, must be
useless to a Christian minister. One of the most precious truths
revealed to this new apostle was, that it was falsehood and adulation to
use the second person plural instead of the second person singular. To
say good morning or good evening was highly reprehensible, for the
phrases evidently imported that God had made bad mornings and bad
evenings. To talk of the month of March was to worship Mars; and to talk
of Monday was to pay idolatrous homage to the moon. A Christian was
bound to face death itself rather than touch his hat to the greatest of
mankind. Bowing was considered as the effect of Satanical influence, for
the woman in the gospel, while she had a spirit of infirmity, was bowed
together, and ceased to bow as soon as divine power had liberated her
from the tyranny of the evil one.

Fox long wandered from place to place, teaching this strange theology,
shaking like an aspen leaf in his paroxysms of fanatical excitement,
forcing his way into churches which he nicknamed steeple-houses,
interrupting prayers and sermons with clamour and scurrility, and
pestering rectors and justices with epistles much resembling burlesques
of those sublime odes in which the Hebrew prophets foretold the
calamities of Babylon and Tyre. He soon acquired great notoriety by
these religious feats. His strange face, his nasal chant, his immovable
hat, and his leather breeches, were known all over the country. He was
repeatedly imprisoned and set in the stocks, sometimes justly, for
disturbing the public worship of congregations; sometimes unjustly, for
merely talking nonsense. He soon gathered round him a body of disciples,
some of whom went beyond himself in absurdity. He also made some
converts, as Barclay and Penn, to whom he was immeasurably inferior in
everything, except the energy of his convictions. By these converts his
rude doctrines were polished into a form somewhat less shocking to good
sense and good taste. His gibberish was translated into English; and his
system so much improved that he himself might have been excused if he
had hardly known it. To the last his disciples professed profound
reverence for him; and his crazy epistles were received and read in
Quaker meetings all over the country. This founder of the Quaker sect
died in 1690.[92]

-----

Footnote 92:

  Macaulay.

-----

As already intimated in a previous chapter, Samuel Wesley, like
Macaulay, had no great liking for the Quakers. The following article,
taken from the _Athenian Oracle_, vol. i. p. 331, in which the Quakers
and Papists are compared, will tend to show his opinions concerning a
sect which were much more numerous about two hundred years ago than they
are at present, and whose views and vagaries then were much more wild
than happily they are now:—

“Both Quakers and Papists are so bad that they can hardly be called
Christian. In many things they are near akin. The Quakers, ever since
their rise, have been looked upon as the Jesuit by-blows. The Quakers
deny the plenary satisfaction of Christ, and rest on their own merits;
so do the Papists. They rail at our ministers, and deny their legal call
or ordination; so do the Papists. They pretend to a greater strictness
and singularity of life than other people; so do several orders among
the Papists. Then, for fanaticism and enthusiasm, they are most
admirably matched. But, to consider them asunder—The Papist holds more
than he ought to do, and therefore all the articles of the Christian
faith: but the Quaker much less, for the Quakers all deny the Christian
sacraments, and we wonder how they have a face to pretend to what they
never had, Christianity, when they were never christened. They are
indeed a compendium of almost all sorts of heresies: for they not only
deny the merits of Christ, with the Papists, but even His satisfaction
and divinity, being at best no better than mere Arians. Nay, there have
been some of them who, as far as we can understand them, deny our
Saviour’s manhood, and turn angels, spirits, heaven, and hell into mean
and jejune allegories. All of them, to a man, whom we ever met with,
deny the Scriptures to be the _Word of God_, and most of them deny any
resurrection of the body. For these reasons, we think, as a bad
Christian is better than none, so a Papist is better than a Quaker.”[93]

-----

Footnote 93:

  In the fourth volume of the _Athenian Oracle_ Wesley vindicates his
  charges against the Quakers by quotations from their writings, and
  sums up the matter thus:—“Quakerism is a compendium of all heresies,
  some of which we shall name—Pharisees, Sadducees, Ebionites, Gnostics,
  Eucratites, Marcionites, Cainites, Manichees, Jacobites, Acephalae,
  Tritheites, Adamites, Helcecaites, Marcocites, Colorbalites,
  Sabellians, Samosatenians, Macedonians, Arians, Donatists,
  Priscillians—cum multis aliis,” (p. 366.)

-----

This may seem a caricatured description of the Quakers’ religion, but it
must be borne in mind that in 1690 that religion was not the
systematised and inoffensive thing that it is in 1865.

Of all the members of the Low-Church party, in the reign of William and
Mary, Tillotson stood the highest in general estimation. He was the son
of a clothier, and was born at Sowerby Bridge, in Yorkshire, in 1630.
His first sermon was preached at the morning exercise in Cripplegate, in
1661. Thirty years afterwards he was consecrated Archbishop of
Canterbury, in the Church of St Mary le Bow. The congregation was the
most splendid that had been seen in any place of worship since William
and Mary’s coronation. The crowds that lined the streets greeted the new
primate with loud applauses; but the applauses of his friends could not
drown the roar of execration which the Jacobites and High-Church party
set up against him. According to them, he was a thief, who had entered
not by the door, but had climbed over the fences. He was an Arian, a
Socinian, a Deist, an Atheist. He had never been christened, for his
parents were Anabaptists. He had lost their religion when a boy, and he
had never found another. In ribald lampoons he was nicknamed “Undipped
John.” The parish register of his baptism was produced in vain. This
storm of obloquy, which he had to face for the first time at more than
sixty years of age, was too much for him. His spirits declined, his
health gave way, and in 1695 he died, and Samuel Wesley, his sincere and
warm admirer, wrote and published his elegy.

Tillotson was sincere, frank, and humble; of kind and tender affection,
bountiful in his charities, and forgiving of injuries. After his death,
there was found a bundle of bitter libels which had been published
against him, on which he had written with his own hand, “I forgive the
authors of these books, and I pray God that He also may forgive them.”
His public principles were philanthropic, tolerant, and liberal. William
and Mary reposed an entire confidence in his prudence, moderation, and
integrity. In some points he was, perhaps, too compliant, and was led
into some inconsistencies; but the times were difficult, and his
intentions were always good. While he was in a private station of life,
he always laid aside two-tenths of his income for charitable uses; and
when he died, his debts could not have been paid if the king had not
remitted his first fruits. As a preacher, he was thought, by his
contemporaries, to have surpassed all rivals, living or dead. Posterity
has reversed this judgment. Yet Tillotson still keeps his place as a
legitimate English classic. His highest flights were indeed far below
those of Taylor, of Barrow, and of South; but his oratory was more
correct and equable than theirs. No quaint conceits, no pedantic
quotations from Talmudists and Scoliasts, no mean images, buffoon
stories, or scurrilous invectives, ever marred the effect of his grave
and temperate discourses. His style is not brilliant, but it is pure and
transparently clear. He is always serious, and always good. His sermons
were published in three volumes folio. Addison considered them as a
standard of the purity of the English language; and Dryden acknowledged
that, if he had any talent for English prose, it was derived from
frequent perusal of Tillotson’s writings.

In 1694, on December 28, Queen Mary died, and Samuel Wesley composed and
published a poem eulogising her character. Being seized with smallpox,
Mary gave orders that every lady of the bed-chamber, every maid of
honour, nay, every menial servant, who had not had the smallpox, should
instantly leave the house. She locked herself up during a short time in
her closet, burned some papers, and arranged others, and then calmly
awaited her decease. William remained night and day by her bedside; and
a few moments before she expired he was removed, almost insensible, from
the sick-chamber. The public sorrow at her death was great and general.
When the Commons next met they sat for a time in profound silence. The
number of sad faces in the street struck every observer. On the Sunday
which followed her death, her virtues were celebrated in almost every
parish church of the capital, and in almost every great meeting-house of
the Nonconformists. The funeral was the saddest and most august that
Westminster had ever seen. The two Houses, with their maces, followed
the hearse; the Lords, robed in scarlet and ermine; the Commons in long
black mantles. No preceding sovereign had ever been attended to the
grave by a parliament; for, till then, the parliament had always expired
with the sovereign. The whole magistracy of the city swelled the
procession. The banners of England and France, Scotland, and Ireland,
were carried by great nobles before the corpse. The pall was borne by
the chiefs of the illustrious houses of Howard, Seymour, Grey, and
Stanley. On the gorgeous coffin of purple and gold were laid the crown
and sceptre of the realm. The day was well suited to such a ceremony.
The sky was dark and troubled. The nave, choir, and transept of the
abbey were in a blaze with innumerable wax-lights. The body was
deposited under a sumptuous canopy in the centre of the church, while
the primate preached; and throughout the whole ceremony the distant
booming of cannon was heard every minute from the batteries of the
Tower.[94]

-----

Footnote 94:

  Macaulay.

-----

As long as Queen Mary lived, William left the management of the affairs
of the English Church wholly in her hands, and her chief confidant and
counsellor was Archbishop Tillotson.

Whatever was Mary’s character and conduct as a daughter and a sister,
she was certainly the most devoted and exemplary of royal wives. Though,
in accordance with the atrocious practice of sovereigns, her husband
kept a mistress in the palace, yet she had the good sense to submit to
his commanding intellect. John Wesley says, she “was in her person tall
and well-proportioned, with an oval visage, lively eyes, agreeable
features, a mild aspect, and an air of dignity. Her apprehension was
clear, her memory tenacious, and her judgment solid. She was a zealous
Protestant, scrupulously exact in all the duties of devotion, of an even
temper, and of a calm and mild conversation.” She was excellently
qualified to be the head of the English court. She was English by birth,
and English also in her tastes and feelings. Her face was handsome, her
port majestic, her temper sweet and lively, her manners affable and
graceful. Her understanding, though very imperfectly cultivated, was
quick. Feminine wit sparkled in her conversation; and her letters were
so well expressed that they deserved to be well spelt. She took much
pleasure in the lighter kinds of literature, and did something towards
bringing books into fashion among ladies of quality. The stainless
purity of her private life, and the strict attention which she paid to
her religious duties, were the more respectable, because she was
singularly free from censoriousness, and discouraged scandal as much as
vice. Her charities were munificent and judicious, and though she made
no ostentatious display of them, it was known that she retrenched from
her own state in order to relieve Protestants whom persecution had
driven from France and Ireland, and who were starving in the garrets of
London.[95]

-----

Footnote 95:

  Macaulay.

-----

The reign of William, her husband, extended to the year 1702. During the
thirteen years that William wore the crown, the Bank of England was
founded; the East India Company was reorganised; and the plantations or
settlements of America and the West Indies so steadily increased, that,
before his death, they employed not less than five hundred sail of
ships. Sir Godfrey Kneller and Sir Peter Lely were the chief
portrait-painters of the day; Purcell was the chief musician; and Sir
Isaac Newton was shedding a glory over his age and country by his
sublime scientific discoveries. The higher kinds of literature were at a
discount for want of court patronage. Dryden, fallen on what to him were
evil days and evil tongues, and forced in his old age to write for
bread, with less rest for his wearied head and hand than they had ever
had before, now produced some of his most laborious and also some of his
happiest works; and Lee, the dramatic poet, discharged from Bedlam,
finished two more tragedies; but besides these, there were hardly any
poets above the rank of Shadwell, Tate, and Brady. Among other writers
belonging to the same period may be mentioned:—Bishop Stillingfleet, who
had been known as an author thirty years before William’s accession to
the throne; Cumberland, Bishop of Peterborough, an exceedingly learned
writer, who, at the age of eighty-four, began to study, and mastered the
Coptic language, was now in the full zenith of his fame; Bishop Bull was
writing his “Judicium Ecclesiæ Catholicæ,” for which he received the
thanks of the whole body of the clergy in France; good old Richard
Baxter, who had been filling the world with books for half a century,
just lived to see the Revolution, and died in 1691; Dr Gilbert Burnet,
Bishop of Salisbury, was plying his prolific pen, which, during his
lifetime, produced one hundred and forty-five distinct publications;
Robert South, immortalised by his masculine, if not spiritual sermons,
was carrying on a controversy with Sherlock respecting the Trinity; and
John Locke was publishing his “Essay Concerning the Human
Understanding.”

The population of England, in the reign of King William, was about seven
millions. About ten thousand of these were clergymen, with an average
income of £60 each per annum. The average wages of labouring people and
out-door servants were five shillings and ninepence farthing per week;
and the average income of cottagers and paupers fourpence farthing per
day.[96] Such was the state of things when Samuel Wesley was flourishing
among his two hundred peasant parishioners at South Ormsby, on £50 a
year and a parsonage,—an income nearly equal to the average income of
the ten thousand clergy living at that period.

-----

Footnote 96:

  Knight’s _History of England_.

-----

King William died on the 8th of March 1702. Samuel Wesley’s son John
says—“Upon the whole, William III. appears to have been an honest,
conscientious man, fearing God, and desirous to please Him. His good
qualities were many, his ill ones few; so that we may well rank him
among the best of the English princes.”[97]

-----

Footnote 97:

  Wesley’s _History of England_, vol. iv., p. 41.—Dr Adam Clarke says
  that Samuel Wesley was one of King William’s chaplains, but on what
  authority I know not.

-----

At eighteen William sat among the fathers of the Commonwealth, grave,
discreet, and judicious as the oldest among them. At twenty-one he was
placed at the head of the administration. At twenty-three he was
renowned throughout Europe as a soldier and politician. His personal
tastes were those of a warrior rather than of a statesman; but he
occupies a far higher place among statesmen than among warriors. From a
child he had been weak and sickly. In the prime of manhood his
complaints had been aggravated by a severe attack of smallpox. He was
asthmatic and consumptive. His slender frame was shaken by a constant
hoarse cough. He could not sleep unless his head was propped by several
pillows, and could scarcely draw his breath in any but the purest air.
Cruel headaches frequently tortured him. Exertion soon fatigued him.
Yet, through a life, which was one of long disease, the force of his
mind never failed, on any great occasion, to bear up his suffering and
languid body.

His frame was slender and feeble; his forehead lofty and ample; his nose
curved like the beak of an eagle; his eye bright and keen; his brow
thoughtful and somewhat sullen; his mouth firm and somewhat peevish; and
his cheek pale, thin, and deeply furrowed by sickness and by care. He
possessed strong natural sense and rare force of will. Long before he
reached manhood, he knew how to keep secrets. Meanwhile, however, he
made but little proficiency in fashionable or literary accomplishments.
His manners were altogether Dutch, and even his countrymen thought him
blunt. To foreigners, he often seemed churlish. He was entirely
destitute of sociability. He seldom came forth from his closet; and when
he appeared in the public rooms, he stood among the crowd of courtiers
and ladies stern and abstracted, making no jest and smiling at none. His
freezing look, his taciturnity, the dry and concise answers which he
uttered when he could keep silence no longer, disgusted noblemen and
gentlemen, who had been accustomed to be slapped on the back by their
royal masters, called Jack or Harry, congratulated about race cups, or
rallied about actresses. The women also missed the homage due to their
sex. They observed that the king spoke in a somewhat imperious tone even
to the wife to whom he owed so much, and whom he sincerely loved.
Another thing, which was regarded as one of his misfortunes, was his bad
English. He spoke our language, but not well. His accent was foreign,
his diction was inelegant, and his vocabulary seems to have been no
larger than was necessary for the transaction of business. English
literature he was incapable of enjoying or of understanding. He never
once, during his whole reign, showed himself at the theatre. Next to
hunting, his favourite amusements were architecture and gardening. He
had some talent for sarcasm, and frequently employed a natural rhetoric,
quaint indeed, but vigorous, and original. From a child, he listened
with interest when questions of alliance, finance, and war were
discussed. He understood Latin, Italian, and Spanish; and spoke and
wrote, with more or less correctness, English, French, and German. The
Dutch was his own tongue. For all persecution he felt a fixed aversion.
His theological opinions were loose, but were more decided than those of
his ancestors; and predestination was the keystone of his religion.
Since Octavius, the world had seen no such instance of precocious
statesmanship. He died at the age of fifty-two.

[This chapter is compiled from the _Histories_ of Wesley, of Knight, and
of Macaulay, Calamy’s _Life and Times_, and other works of a kindred
character.]




                               CHAPTER X.
                  LAST DAYS AT SOUTH ORMSBY—1694–1696.


We must return for a little while to South Ormsby, small, but neat and
picturesque, and the first home of Samuel and Susannah Wesley. Here they
lived about five years. Here the rector’s wife brought him one child
additional every year, and did her best to make £50 per annum go as far
as possible. Here he plied his pen with unceasing diligence, and wrote
many of his articles for the _Athenian Gazette_, and also his
contributions to the “Young Student’s Library,” and “The Complete
Library, or News for the Ingenious;” here he finished his “Life of
Christ,” and here he composed two other poems, which must now be
noticed.

Queen Mary died at the end of the year 1694; and her confidential friend
and adviser, Dr Tillotson, died two months afterwards. In 1695, Samuel
Wesley published, in a sort of folio pamphlet of twenty-nine pages, his
“Elegies on the Queen and Archbishop.” The title of the first is as
follows:—“On the Death of her late sacred Majesty, Mary, Queen of
England, a Pindarique Poem.” The title of the second is—“A Poem on the
Death of his Grace, John, late Archbishop of Canterbury.” The Elegy on
the Queen consists of twenty-five verses of from twenty to thirty lines
each; and that on the archbishop of sixty-two verses of four lines to a
verse.

Both the poems are written in the highest style of eulogy. The following
are the first lines of the Elegy on the Queen. The death of Mary is
represented as a judgment inflicted on account of the sins of the
nation, and is also considered as the harbinger of other judgments to
follow. The reference to the Shechinah is in bad taste, and almost
profane:—

          “Ah, sinful nation! Ah, ungrateful Isle!
            See what thy crimes at last have done!
            At last thy Shechinah is gone;
          Thy beauteous sun no more must on thee smile,
            Thy dove is shelter’d in the ark;
            The heavens are silent all and dark,
          Dark as thy fate,—or where,
          Through horrid rifts, some streaks of light appear,
            They bode a dreadful flood
            Of fire and blood.”

The following is from the twenty-fifth stanza, and is meant to be
descriptive of Mary’s admission into heaven. The extract is inserted
with reluctance; but, in delineating character, faults as well as
virtues must be noted:—

            “How was heaven moved at her arrival there!
            With how much more than usual art and care,
              The angels, who so oft to earth had gone,
              And borne her incense to the Eternal’s throne,
            For her new coronation now prepare!
              How welcome! how caressed!
              Among the blest!
            And first mankind’s great mother rose—
              ‘Give way, ye _crowding souls_!’ said she,
              ‘That I the second of my race may see!’”

Notwithstanding our high veneration for Samuel Wesley, we feel bound to
say that such lines are fulsome foolishness. Upon the whole, Mary was a
good woman, but Wesley’s eulogy of her is sadly excessive:—

         “Would virtue take a shape, she’d choose to appear,
         And think, and speak, and dress, and live like her.
         Zeal without heat, devotion without pride,
         Work without noise, did all her hours divide;
         Wit without trifling, prudence without guile,
         Pure faith, which no false reasoning e’er could spoil,
         With her, secured and blest our happy Isle.”

The poem on Tillotson is written in the same eulogistic strain. The
primate is represented as one who excelled in pulpit, church, and state.
As a preacher, he taught without noise, and differed from others without
strife. As a prelate, he was watchful, humble, wise. As a statesman,
unambitious and upright:—

             “’Twas music, poetry, and rapture all,
               The sweets of his orac’lous words to share;
             As soft they fell, as balmy dewdrops fall,
               As smooth as undisturbed ethereal air.
             One word you cannot take away;
               Complete as Virgil’s, his majestic sense;
             To twenty ages of the world, shall stay,
               The standard he of English eloquence.”

Dr Adam Clarke properly observes, that “great and good as both the queen
and archbishop were, both their characters are sadly overdrawn, and
their praises are extended even beyond poetic licence. These, and some
other of Mr Wesley’s early productions excited the ridicule of the wits,
and made him the subject of such an occasional squib as the following,
written by John Dunton:—

              “Poor harmless Wesley, let him write again;
              Be pitied in his old heroic strain;
              Let him in reams proclaim himself a dunce,
              And break a dozen stationers at once.”

Mr Wesley, as we have seen, was an enthusiastic, an almost idolatrous,
admirer of Queen Mary and of Archbishop Tillotson; and some writers have
been pleased to intimate that this arose from special favours which her
Majesty and the archbishop had shown him. This is an unwarranted and
unworthy insinuation. It cannot be denied that Wesley received kindness
from the queen; but there is no evidence to show that he was indebted to
Tillotson for any favour whatever. Wesley himself declares, in a letter
to be given hereafter, that because he dedicated his “Life of Christ” to
Queen Mary, the queen gave him the Epworth living. He never asked for
it. “It was proffered and given without his ever having solicited any
person, and without his ever expecting, or even once thinking of such a
favour.” He adds, “The favours which our blessed queen was pleased to
bestow on me, after she had read my book, were as far beyond my
expectation as my desert.”[98]

-----

Footnote 98:

  Wesley’s _Answer to Palmer_.

-----

There is no doubt that all this is substantially correct; though it
involves a discrepancy in dates, which it is hard to reconcile. Wesley
says that it was through the queen that he obtained Epworth living; and
yet he was not inducted into that living until two years after the queen
was dead. The probability is that the queen made some arrangement that
Wesley should be the next presentee to Epworth benefice; and, after her
decease, the arrangement was carried out. Be that as it may, it is an
unquestioned fact, that Wesley was indebted to the kindness of Queen
Mary; but it is an unwarrantable imputation to say that it was because
of this that he used such excessive flattery in Queen Mary’s Elegy. We
find the same extravagant praises used concerning her in the very book
which led to the Epworth living being given; thereby showing that Wesley
was a most warm admirer of the queen before he received any of her royal
kindnesses. After having lauded the virgin mother of our Saviour, he
adds:—

         “And after thee, oh full of charms and grace!
         Let our great Mary fill the second place!
         For other queens long mayst thou look in vain,
         Others like her, to fill thy glorious train.
         Humble like thee, like thee of royal line,
         Her soul to Heaven submiss, and bow’d like thine!
         Heaven, which immaculate her form design’d,
         As a fit mansion for so fair a mind.
         Which gave her eyes, that love and awe inspire,
         And cheer the world like the sun’s vital fire.
         Oh may they on my humble labours shine,
         With their kind influence gild each happy line!
         Endue with purer forms the coarser ore,
         And stamp it bullion, though ’twas dross before.”[99]

-----

Footnote 99:

  Wesley’s _Life of Christ_.

-----

In this way we dispose of the imputation, that Wesley’s extravagant
eulogies of Queen Mary would not have been written if Queen Mary had not
shown him favour. The thing is false, for he wrote such eulogies before
any favour had been granted. His eulogies may be foolish, but they are
not fawning. He loved his queen, and therefore praised her.

As it respects the archbishop, there is not a scrap of evidence to show
that Wesley was ever indebted to him for kindness of any kind; on the
contrary, it was through Tillotson that Wesley was not made an Irish
bishop. Hence the following extract from a letter written by his Grace
only four months before Mary’s death. The letter was addressed to the
Bishop of Salisbury, and is dated “Lambeth House, August 31, 1694.” The
primate says:—

“My Lord Marquis of Normanby having made Mr Waseley[100] his chaplain,
sent Colonel Fitzgerald to propose him for a bishopric in Ireland,
wherewith I acquainted her Majesty; who, according to her true judgment,
did by no means think fit. Their Majesties have made Dr Foley Bishop of
Down, and Dean Pulleyn Bishop of Cloyne.”[101]

-----

Footnote 100:

  Thus the name is spelt in the letter; but there can be no doubt that
  _Wesley_ is meant.

Footnote 101:

  Birche’s _Life of Tillotson_.

-----

And so, in all likelihood, Dr Foley or Dean Pulleyn obtained the
bishopric which the Marquis of Normanby wished to obtain for Samuel
Wesley. We know nothing of the history and merits of these gentlemen.
Perhaps they were well qualified for the Episcopal station to which they
were exalted, or perhaps they were not; for bishoprics have not always
been given to men the best qualified and the most deserving. It is not
improbable that, in learning and talent, Samuel Wesley was vastly
superior to Dr Foley and Dean Pulleyne; but we cannot, on this ground,
commend the wisdom of the application made by the Marquis of Normanby,
or argue that at present Samuel Wesley was fit to be made a bishop.
Wesley was only thirty-two years of age; it was not more than six years
since he had been ordained; and his ministry, during that period, had
been, to a great extent, confined to a small parish of not more than two
hundred and fifty inhabitants. He had neither age nor experience
sufficient for the Episcopal office. Normanby’s application was hasty
and imprudent; and the disapproval of the archbishop and the queen was
seemly and right. At the same time, the letter of the archbishop above
quoted, is written in terms so frigid as to lead to the conclusion that,
however much Samuel Wesley admired the archbishop, the feeling was not
reciprocal, and was of no advantage to the poor rector who cherished it.

We have already seen that the Marquis of Normanby was one of Wesley’s
warm-hearted friends. It was through this nobleman that he obtained the
living of South Ormsby.[102] His lordship had a house in the parish, and
Wesley acted as his chaplain. The Marquis was well acquainted with the
poor, hard-working, literary parson, and was well able to estimate his
character and his merits.

-----

Footnote 102:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Normanby was a remarkable man, and was descended from a long series of
illustrious ancestors. He was the son of the Earl of Mulgrave, and was
born in 1649. He was early distinguished for his bravery and
accomplishments. The inefficiency of his tutor induced him, at twelve
years of age, to educate himself; and his literary acquisitions are the
more wonderful, inasmuch as those years in which they are commonly made,
were spent by him in the tumult of a military life, or the gaiety of a
court. At seventeen, when war was declared against the Dutch, he engaged
as a volunteer on board the ship in which Prince Rupert sailed, and was
rewarded for his zeal by the command of one of the independent troops of
horse then raised to protect the coast. When another Dutch war broke out
in 1672, he went again a volunteer in the ship which the celebrated Lord
Ossory commanded; and his behaviour was such that he was advanced to the
command of the _Catherine_, the best second-rate ship in the navy. In
1674, he was installed Knight of the Garter, and made one of the lords
of the bedchamber to Charles the Second, with whom he was a great
favourite. He afterwards went into the French service to learn the art
of war under Turenne. When the unlucky Monmouth fell into disgrace, he
was recompensed with the lieutenancy of Yorkshire and the government of
Hull. Having had the boldness to aspire at courting Lady Anne,
afterwards Queen of England, King Charles,[103] in 1680, sent him out to
Tangiers, intentionally, it is said, in a leaky ship, hoping that he
would either perish at sea, or in battle with the Moors on land. The
Moors, without a contest, retired before him, and he returned to England
in safety; was well received by the king, and continued a wit and a
courtier as before. On the accession of James the Second, he was
admitted into the Privy Council and made lord-chamberlain. He accepted a
place in the high commission; and, having few religious scruples, he
attended the king at mass, and kneeled with the rest, but refused to be
converted. He lamented, but acquiesced in the revolution, and voted for
the conjunctive sovereignty of William and Mary. For some years, he
looked on King William with malevolence, and lived without employment;
but, notwithstanding this aversion, he was made Marquis of Normanby in
1694, and, about the year 1700, was received into the Cabinet Council
with an annual yearly pension of £3000. On the accession of Anne in
1702, he was made Lord Privy Seal, and then was created Duke of
Normanby, and afterwards Duke of Buckingham. He died in 1720, at
Buckingham House in St James’s Park, an edifice which he had erected
himself, leaving a son by his third wife, a natural daughter of King
James by the Countess of Dorchester. He was buried with great pomp in
Westminster Abbey, where a monument is erected to his memory, bearing an
inscription of his own composition, beginning; “In doubt, but not in
wickedness, I lived. In doubt, but not in fear, I die.” He wrote the
“Vision,” and other poems; two tragedies, called “Julius Cæsar” and
“Brutus,” and several prose works, consisting chiefly of historical
memoirs, speeches in parliament, characters, dialogues, and essays. As a
poet, he scarcely exceeds mediocrity; though Pope and others were
sufficiently influenced by his rank and patronage, to place him high
among the votaries of the muse. Johnson’s criticism is severe. “He is,”
says he, “a writer that sometimes glimmers, but rarely shines, feebly
laborious, and at best but pretty. His songs are upon common topics; he
hopes, and grieves, and repents, and despairs, and rejoices, like any
other maker of little stanzas; to be great, he hardly tries; to be gay,
is hardly in his power. His verses are often insipid, but his memoirs
are lively and agreeable; he had the perspicuity and elegance of an
historian, but not the fire and fancy of a poet.”

-----

Footnote 103:

  Dryden’s _Miscellaneous Works_, vol. i. Notes, p. 60, 1760.

-----

The same authority describes his character somewhat harshly. He
writes:—“His character is not to be proposed as worthy of imitation. His
religion he may be supposed to have learned from Hobbes, and his
morality was such as naturally proceeds from loose opinions. His
sentiments, with respect to women, he picked up in the court of Charles;
and his principles, concerning property, were such as a gaming table
supplies. He is said, however, to have had much tenderness, and to have
been very ready to apologise for his violences of passion.”

Such, then, was the man who obtained for Samuel Wesley the living of
South Ormsby, and in whose house Samuel Wesley acted as domestic
chaplain. The year in which he asked that Wesley might be made an Irish
bishop, was the year in which he himself was created Marquis of
Normanby. Had his request been preferred to King James, or to Queen
Anne, it would probably have been successful, but with King William and
Queen Mary he was no favourite.

The Marquis of Normanby was a distinguished man, but his principles and
morality were loose, and Samuel Wesley’s position, as domestic chaplain,
was not always the most comfortable. There can be little doubt that the
following question and answer in the _Athenian Oracle_, (vol. i. p.
542,) were written by Wesley, and refer to his own office in the family
of the marquis:—

“_Question._—I am a chaplain in a certain family, which is not so
regular and religious as I could wish it. I am forced to see misses,
drinking, gaming, &c., and dare not open my mouth against them,
supposing from the little notice that is taken of me in matters of
religion, and the great distance my patron keeps, that if I should
pretend to blame anything of that nature, it would occasion nothing but
the turning me out of the family. In the meantime unless I do speak, and
modestly remonstrate, I think I do not what becomes a minister of
religion, and am afraid may another day be justly condemned as partaker
in other men’s sins. Therefore, gentlemen, my humble request is to know
of you what I ought to do, neither to betray the cause of religion nor
give offence. I would gladly be satisfied how far a chaplain is obliged
to take care of the morals of the family he lives in. Your answer may be
of use to a great many beside myself, for my case is far from being
singular. I cannot believe that to say grace and read prayers now and
then, when my patron is at leisure, is all the duty of a chaplain, yet I
find that we all think we have done enough when we have done that.”

“_Answer._—The pulpit is a privileged place, where, as custom has given
you authority to speak, so you may with prudence so moderate your
discourse as either to accomplish a reformation, or at least acquit
yourself and discharge your own duty. Righteousness, temperance, and the
judgment to come, if reasoned upon, as they were almost seventeen ages
since, may find a second Felix. The pulpit is the most proper, and
sometimes the only, place to convince strangers of their faults, but
private retirements are convenient for friends and familiars. These are
rules of latitude, but all the world is reducible to one of them, and
the practice is indisputable.”

No doubt “the misses, drinking, and gaming,” of the Marquis of
Normanby’s house, occasioned the chaplain much uneasiness and distress
of mind. The marquis was kind, but he was a rake; and Wesley was brought
into company, not only with him but with his mistresses. To a man like
himself, of the highest honour and strictest principles, this was
extremely trying. At length matters came to a crisis. The following is
given on the authority of Mr Wesley’s son John:—

“The Marquis of Normanby had a house in the parish of South Ormsby,
where a woman who lived with him usually resided. This lady _would_ be
intimate with my mother, whether _she_ would or not. To such an
intercourse my father would not submit. Coming in one day, and finding
this intrusive visitant sitting with my mother, he went up to her, took
her by the hand, and very fairly handed her out. The nobleman resented
the affront so outrageously, as to make it necessary for my father to
resign the living.”

Such, then, was the occasion of Samuel Wesley leaving South Ormsby. This
happened about the year 1696. While, however, Wesley resigned the South
Ormsby living, he retained his chaplaincy in the house of the Marquis of
Normanby. Four years after this, in 1700, when he published his “Short
Discourse on Baptism,” he announced himself on the title page as
“Chaplain to the Most Honourable John Lord Marquis of Normanby;” and a
year later, in 1701, he dedicated his “History of the Old and New
Testament” to the Marchioness of Normanby, in a prosaic but flattering
dedication; while about the same time, to relieve Wesley from some of
his financial embarrassments, the marquis, with his own hand, gave him
twenty guineas, and the marchioness five! All this shows that, though
his rupture with the marquis’s mistress rendered it expedient that he
should remove from the parish in which she lived; he still, for years
afterwards, retained his office in the marquis’s family, and
participated in the practical friendship of both him and the marchioness
his wife.

During the years that Mr Wesley spent at South Ormsby five or six
children seem to have been born to him. Samuel, the eldest of the
family, was born in London; the names of the five or six, born at South
Ormsby, were Susannah, Emilia, Annesley, Jedidiah, Susannah, and Mary.

The first, Susannah, died in April 1693, when a little more than two
years old. Emilia was baptized by her father in South Ormsby church,
January 13, 1692. Arriving at womanhood she married a Quaker, an
apothecary at Epworth, of the name of Harper, who left her a young
widow. Her husband was a violent Whig, and she was an unbending Tory.
About five years before her father’s death, she became a teacher at the
boarding-school of a Mrs Taylor, in Lincoln, where she received bad
treatment and worse wages. In 1735 she set up a school of her own at
Gainsborough. For many years before her death, she was maintained
entirely by her brothers, and lived at the preachers’ house adjoining
the chapel in West Street, Seven Dials, London. She died at nearly
eighty years of age, about the year 1770. She is reported to have been
beautiful in face and figure, and majestic in her address and carriage,
and to have had “strong sense, much wit, a prodigious memory, and a
talent for poetry.” She was a good classical scholar, and wrote a
beautiful hand. John Wesley said she was the best reader of Milton that
he ever heard.

Annesley and Jedidiah were twins. They were baptized December 3, 1694,
and both of them died in infancy.

Susannah, the second, was born in 1695, and, at the age of about
twenty-six, was married to Richard Ellison, Esq., a man of good family,
who farmed his own estate, and had a respectable establishment. She was
good-natured, very facetious, and a little romantic, but behaved herself
with the strictest moral correctness. She had a mind naturally strong
and vivacious, and well refined by a good education. Her husband was
little inferior to the apostate angels in wickedness. His mind was
common, coarse, and uncultivated. He was the plague of his wife, and a
constant affliction to her family. After bearing him several children,
she left him, and hid herself in London, where she had considerable
helps from her brother John. Henceforth she firmly refused to see her
faithless and brutal husband, or to have any intercourse with him. Her
son John lived and died an excise-officer in Bristol. Her daughter Ann
married Mr Pierre le Lièvre, a French Protestant refugee, whose son
Peter was educated at Kingswood school, took orders in the Church of
England, and died at Lutterworth, in Leicestershire. Her daughter
Deborah married Mr Pierre Collet, another French refugee; and her son,
Richard Annesley, died at the age of twenty-seven, leaving two orphan
daughters, of whom Mrs Voysey, the excellent wife of a pious dissenting
minister, was one. Mrs Ellison’s husband was reduced to a state of
poverty, and, through her brother John, obtained alms from Ebenezer
Blackwell.[104] It is pleasing to relate that, at length, he became a
reformed man; and that, on the 11th of April 1760, Charles Wesley
writes: “I buried my brother Ellison, and prayed by him in his last
moments. He said he was not afraid to die, and believed God, for
Christ’s sake, had forgiven him.”[104]

-----

Footnote 104:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. xii. p. 165.

-----

Mary Wesley was born in 1696, and, therefore, just about the time that
her father left South Ormsby. She was married to John Whitelamb, whom we
shall have to notice in a future chapter. Through afflictions, and,
probably, through some mismanagement in her nurse, she became
considerably deformed, and her growth in consequence was much stinted:
but all written and oral testimonies concur in the statement that her
face was exquisitely beautiful, and was a fair and legible index to a
mind and disposition almost angelic. Her humble, obliging, even, and
amiable temper, made her the favourite and delight of the whole Wesley
family. She died in early womanhood in becoming the mother of her first
child. John Wesley preached her funeral sermon at Wroote; and her sister
Mehetabel wrote an elegy, which was published in the _Gentleman’s
Magazine_ for 1736, an extract from which, on account of its delineation
of character and exquisite poetry, is here subjoined:—

          “From earliest dawn of life, through thee alone,
          The saint sublime, the finish’d Christian shone;
          Yet would not grace one grain of pride allow,
          Or cry, “Stand off, I’m holier than thou!”
          With business or devotion never cloy’d,
          No moment of thy time pass’d unemploy’d;
          Well-natured mirth, mature discretion join’d,
          Most sure attendants on the virtuous mind!
          A worth so singular, since time began,
          But one surpass’d, and he was more than man.
          Nor was thy form unfair, (though Heaven confined
          To scanty limits thy exalted mind.)
          Witness the brow, so faultless, open, clear,
          That none could ask if honesty was there;
          Witness the taintless lustre of thy skin,
          Bright emblem of the brighter soul within!
          That soul which easy, unaffected, mild,
          Through jetty eyes, with cheerful sweetness smiled.
          But oh! could fancy reach or language speak
          The living beauties of thy lip and cheek,
          Where nature’s pencil, leaving art no room,
          Touched to a miracle the vernal bloom;
          Lost though thou art, in _Stella’s_ faithful line,
          Thy face, immortal as thy fame, should shine.
          To soundest prudence, (life’s unerring guide,)
          To love sincere, religion void of pride,
          To friendship perfect in a female mind,
          Which I nor wish nor hope on earth to find;
          To mirth, (the balm of care,) from lightness free,
          To steadfast truth, unwearied industry,
          To every charm and grace comprised in you,
          Most worthy friend, a long and last adieu!”

Little South Ormsby, to all interested in the history of the Wesley
family, will always be an attractive place. Here Samuel Wesley spent
about six of the best years of his life, and wrote some of his ablest
works. Here he had at least five children born, and here he buried
three. Hither he took his young wife, and his first-born son, Samuel.
Here he had to join his wife in mourning the death of her father, Dr
Annesley; and from here to Epworth he and his wife took four young
children, the eldest only six years old,—Samuel, Emilia, Susannah, and
Mary.

Before finally quitting South Ormsby, it ought to be added, that Samuel
Wesley, who took his degree of A.B. at Oxford in 1688, took his A.M. at
Cambridge in 1694. The following notice is from the University Register,
Cambridge:—

                          “Incorporated 1694.
                  Sam. Westley, A.B., Coll. Exon. Ox.
          Samuel Westley, A.M., Coll. C. C. Camb., 1694.”[105]

Footnote 105:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----




                              CHAPTER XI.
               EPWORTH AND CHRISTIAN SOCIETIES—1696–1699.


Mr Wesley removed to Epworth sometime during the year 1696 or 1697. This
point is clearly settled by the inscription on his tombstone, which
states that he died April 25, 1735, and that he had been Rector of
Epworth thirty-nine years.

Epworth, in the county of Lincoln, is a small straggling market town, of
about two thousand inhabitants. It is situated in what is called the
Isle of Axholme, a low-lying district, ten miles long and four broad,
surrounded by the three rivers, Trent, Don, and Idle. The island
contains thirty-seven thousand eight hundred acres of land, and is
divided into the seven parishes of Epworth, Althorpe, Belton, Crowle,
Haxey, Luddington, and Owston, with their respective hamlets attached.
Until within a short time before Mr Wesley’s removal to Epworth, the
whole of this district was little better than a swamp; but, at a great
expense, it had recently been drained, and it is now exceedingly rich
and fertile. Epworth stands in the centre of the island, and on the side
of a small sloping hill. The view from the churchyard is extensive,
terminating on the north with the Yorkshire wolds, and on the south with
Gringley-on-the-Hill; on the east with the town of Kirton, and on the
west with the spire of the church of Laughton-en-le-Morthen.

Epworth church is dedicated to Saint Andrew, and consists of a nave, of
aisles, of a chancel, and a tower. The parsonage, first occupied by Mr
Wesley, is thus described in a document dated 1607:—“It consists of five
baies, built all of timber and plaster, and covered with straw thatche,
the whole building being contrived into three stories, and disposed in
seven chiefe rooms—a kitchinge, a hall, a parlour, a butterie, and three
large upper rooms, and some others of common use; and also a little
garden empailed betwine the stone-wall and the south, on the south.”
There was also “one barn of six baies, built all of timber and clay
walls, and covered with straw thatche; with outshotts about it, and free
house therebye.” There was likewise, “one dovecoate of timber and
plaister covered with straw thatche;” and, finally, there was “one
hemp-kiln, that hath been usealeie occupied for the parsonage ground,
and joyning upon the south.” The entire site of the parsonage and its
adjuncts covered about three acres.[106] Here Samuel Wesley lived for
about nine and thirty years. Let us trace his history.

-----

Footnote 106:

  Stonehouse’s _History of Axholme_.

-----

Very shortly after his removal to Epworth, his daughter Mehetabel was
born. Henry Moore and Adam Clarke say, she was her mother’s tenth or
eleventh child; but that is an evident mistake, for Mehetabel was born
in 1697, which was only the eighth year after her mother’s
marriage.[107] The whole of the Wesley family were gifted with poetic
genius, but Mehetabel perhaps shone the brightest, Samuel and Charles
not excepted. From her childhood, she was gay and sprightly, full of
mirth, good humour, and keen wit. At the early age of eight years, she
had made such proficiency in learning, that she could read the Greek
Testament. When about twenty-seven years of age, she was prevented
marrying a man whom her father called “an unprincipled lawyer;” and, in
the height of her vexation, made the rash vow, either never to marry
another, or to take the first that might offer. Shortly after, she had
an offer of marriage from a man named Wright, a journeyman plumber and
glazier. Her father, fearing that she might still marry the man who had
jilted her, urged her to marry Wright. She unhappily did so, and found
her husband to be utterly unsuited to her in all respects. Her uncle
Matthew gave her a small marriage portion, and, with this, Wright set up
business for himself. He then began to associate with low dissolute
companions, spent his evenings from home, became a drunkard; and, by
ill-treatment, broke the heart of his wife. In a most exquisite poetical
address to her husband, she speaks of her “heart-breaking sighs and
fruitless tears;” often does she spend “half the lonely night” in
waiting for her absent husband, and then, on his coming home from his
carousals, “curbs her sighs, conceals her cares,” dashes away her tears;
and, to please him, puts on a cheerful “smile.” But despite all her
attention and her tenderness, he still runs to “obscure and unclean
retreats,” and associates with drunken blackguards, who, as a great
achievement, grin at “obscene jests and witless oaths.” She then
concludes her poem with the threat, that if this effort to regain his
affection fails, she will abandon patience, and give herself up to rage
and grief, until death restores to Wright his liberty, and gives him the
opportunity “to laugh when Hetty is no more.”[108]

-----

Footnote 107:

  _See_ Clarke’s _Wesley Family_. Note, vol. ii. p. 136.

Footnote 108:

  Moore’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i., p. 75.

-----

Her husband carried on his business of plumbing and glazing in Frith
Street, Soho, London. They had several children, all of whom died young.
On the death of one of her infants in 1728, she wrote the following
beautifully pathetic, but sad and saddening poem:—

             “Tender softness! infant mild!
             Perfect, sweetest, loveliest child!
             Transient lustre! beauteous clay!
             Smiling wonder of a day!
             Ere the last convulsive start,
             Rend thy unresisting heart;
             Ere the long-enduring swoon
             Weigh thy precious eye-lids down;
             Ah, regard a mother’s moan;
             Anguish deeper than thy own!

             “Fairest eyes, whose dawning light,
             Late with rapture bless’d my sight;
             Ere your orbs extinguish’d be,
             Bend their trembling beams on me!
             Drooping sweetness! verdant flower!
             Blooming, with’ring in an hour!
             Ere thy gentle breast sustains
             Latest, fiercest, mortal pains,
             Hear a suppliant! let me be
             Partner in thy destiny!
             That whene’er the fatal cloud
             Must thy radiant temples shroud;
             When deadly damps (impending now)
             Shall hover round thy destined brow
             Diffusing may their influence be,
             And with the _blossom_ blast the _tree_!”[109]

-----

Footnote 109:

  _Arminian Magazine_, 1778, p. 718.

-----

These almost inimitable lines were sent to the Rev. John Wesley by
Mehetabel’s wretched husband, and were accompanied by the following
letter, which is given here, as a contrast to his wife’s poem, and to
show how the two were utterly unsuited for each other:—

  “DEAR BRO,—This comes to Let you know that my wife is brought to bed
  and is in a hopefull way of Doing well but the Dear child Died—the
  Third day after it was born—which has been of great concerne to me and
  my wife She Joynes With me in Love to your Selfe and Bro. Charles

                                “From your loveing Bro. to Comnd
                                                        “WM. WRIGHT.

  “_P.S._—Ive sen you sum verses that my wife maid of Dear Lamb Let me
  hear from one or both of you as soon as you think Conveniant.”

Dr Adam Clarke observes, that Wright’s letter is, like the ancient
Hebrew, _without points_.

We cannot resist the temptation to give another poetic extract, as
illustrative of Mehetabel Wesley’s fine genius. It is selected from a
poem, entitled, “A Farewell to the World,” and refers to past days of
happiness spent in the company of her sister Mary. After speaking of
their visits to the poor and sick, she writes:—

         “Wan, meagre forms, torn from impending death,
         Exulting, blest us with reviving breath—
         The shivering wretch we clothed, the mourner cheer’d,
         And sickness ceased to groan when we appear’d—
         Unask’d, our care assists with tender art
         Their bodies, nor neglects the immortal part.
         Sometimes in shades, unpierced by Cynthia’s beam,
         Whose lustre glimmer’d on the dimpled stream,
         We wander’d innocent through sylvan scenes,
         Or tripp’d like fairies o’er the level greens—
         From fragrant herbage deck’d with pearly dews,
         And flowerets of a thousand different hues,
         By wafting gales the mingling odours fly,
         And round our heads in whispering breezes sigh-
         Whole nature seems to heighten and improve
         The holier hours of innocence and love.

         “Nor close the blissful scene, exhausted muse,
         The latest blissful scene that thou shalt choose;
         Satiate with life, what joys for me remain,
         Save one dear wish, to balance every pain,—
         To bow my head, with grief and toil opprest,
         Till borne by angel-bands to everlasting rest!”

This remarkable woman, in after years, found peace with God. Charles
Wesley speaks of her as “a gracious, tender, trembling soul; a bruised
reed, which the Lord will not break; still harassed with ‘darkness,
doubts, and fears,’ but against hope believing in hope.” This was a few
days before she died, in the year 1750.[110] John Wesley says, that for
some years before her death she was “a witness of that rest which
remains even here for the people of God.”[111][112] Mr Kirk justly
remarks, that a careful analysis of Mehetabel’s mental powers, a full
estimate of her highly poetic genius, and a complete collection of her
poems, would form a volume of no ordinary interest and value.

-----

Footnote 110:

  _See_ C. Wesley’s _Journal_.

Footnote 111:

  _Arminian Magazine_, 1778, p. 235.

Footnote 112:

  As a specimen of Mehetabel’s wit, we subjoin the following riddle
  respecting a pen, published in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1734,
  and subscribed by her usual signature in that periodical,
  “_Sylvius_:”—

                                “A RIDDLE.

                  “I am an implement that’s common,
                  Much occupied by man and woman;
                  Not very thick, nor very long,
                  Yet tolerably stiff and strong.
                  If inches twelve may give content,
                  That measures much about my stent.
                  Sometimes I’m only used for pleasure,
                  And then I’m jaded out of measure;
                  If a young, vigorous bard employs me,
                  Egad, e’en to the stumps he tries me;
                  A parson to get one in ten
                  In private plies me now and then;
                  The lawyer, and the doctor too,
                  For fees will wear me black and blue.
                  I have a dribbling at the nose,
                  Which leaves a stain where’er it goes,
                  And yet the fairest nymph will use me,
                  The queen herself will not refuse me.
                  I’m used by numbers of all arts,
                  Who would be reckon’d men of parts;
                  And none esteems a lady polish’d
                  Who has not often me demolish’d;
                  And let me tell you, by the by,
                  A minute’s labour drains me dry;
                  I’m now exhausted, so have done;
                  Now who, or what I am make known.”

-----

But to return to the parents of this gifted woman:—Very soon after their
settlement at Epworth, Susannah Wesley was bereaved, by death, of her
sister Dunton. Her father died just before the removal to Epworth; her
sister just after. This double bereavement was a most painful trial.
Elizabeth Dunton, like her sister Susannah Wesley, was a remarkable
woman. From her childhood she was pious. She was so thoroughly
acquainted with the Holy Scriptures, that, if any text was quoted, she
could at once tell the book, chapter, and verse where it might be found.
For nearly twenty years, she kept a diary, and wrote so copiously, that
her experiences and meditations, if printed, would have filled a folio.
“She was a lover of solitude; and Sabbaths, sermons, and sacraments were
the best refreshments she met with in her way to glory. Her mind was
always full of charity towards those who might differ from her in
matters of opinion. She loved the image of Christ wherever it was
formed. In her last sickness, which lasted about seven months, she never
uttered a repining word; and throughout the whole there was no doubt
upon her spirit as to her future happiness. Among her last utterances
were the following:—‘Heaven will make amends for all; it is but a little
while before I shall be happy. I have good ground to hope that when I
die, through Christ, I shall be blessed. It is a solemn thing to die.
Oh, this eternity! There is no time for preparing for heaven like youth.
I look back with joy on some of the early years that I sweetly spent in
my father’s house. Oh, what a mercy it is to be dedicated to God
betimes!’”[113]

-----

Footnote 113:

  _See_ Dunton’s _Life and Errors_.

-----

At her own desire, she was buried in Bunhill Fields. Her funeral sermon
was preached by the Rev. Timothy Rogers, M.A., and was published in a
volume of nearly three hundred pages.[114]

-----

Footnote 114:

  Timothy Rogers was a Nonconformist preacher; a good man, to whom
  Samuel Wesley, in a subsequent letter, acknowledges himself greatly
  indebted. Besides his voluminous funeral sermon for Mrs Dunton, he
  published a book, entitled, “Fall not out by the Way; or, A Persuasion
  to a Friendly Correspondence between the Conformists and
  Nonconformists.” Judging from the funeral sermon now before us, he was
  a man of great vivacity, wit, and mental vigour. He was also imbued
  with a thoroughly catholic and Christian spirit. “The way to agreement
  of all parties,” he writes, “is not to bring men to be of one opinion,
  but to be of one mind; which we may be, not by thinking the same
  things, but by thinking well one of another, endeavouring to preserve
  charity as carefully as to preserve truth. Carnal zeal may put us on
  disputing, but true zeal will put us upon prayer. For my part, I had
  rather be a quiet ploughman than a fiery philosopher.”

-----

The following is Dunton’s description of her before their
marriage:—“Tall; of good aspect; hair of light chestnut colour; dark
eyes; mouth small and sweet; air somewhat melancholy, but agreeable;
neck long and graceful; complexion fair; piety scarce paralleled, and
wit solid. She is sweetly modest, and has all kinds of virtues. She is
an agreeable acquaintance, a trusty friend, and is mistress of all the
graces that make a perfect woman.”

In another place he writes concerning her:—“For the fifteen years we
lived together there never passed an angry look. Her sympathies with me,
in all the distresses of my life, make her virtues shine with the
greater lustre. Like the glow-worm, that emblem of true friendship, she
shined to me, even in the dark. My head no sooner ached, but her heart
felt it. To requite her love I would have stripped myself to my very
skin; yea, mortgaged my very flesh to have served her. Indeed all our
distresses of body and mind were so equally divided, that all hers were
mine, and all mine were hers.”

Dunton desired Samuel Wesley to write an epitaph for his departed wife.
Wesley complied with the request, and with the epitaph sent the
following significant epistle:—

                                          “EPWORTH, _July 24, 1697_.

  “DEAR BROTHER,—It has been neither unkindness to you, with whom I have
  traded and been justly used for many years, nor unthankfulness to Mr
  Rogers, (for I shall own my obligations to that good man while I
  live,) which has made me so long neglect answering your several
  letters; but the hurry of a remove,[115] and my extraordinary
  business, being obliged to preach the visitation sermon at
  Gainsborough, at the bishop’s coming hither, which is but just over.
  Besides, I would fain have sent you an elegy as well as an epitaph,
  but cannot get one to my mind, and therefore you must be content with
  half your desire; and if you please to accept this epitaph, it is at
  your service. I hope it will come before you need another
  epithalamium.—I am, your obliged friend and brother,

                                                   “S. WESLEY.”[116]

-----

Footnote 115:

  This indicates that Samuel Wesley did not remove to Epworth until the
  spring, or early summer of 1697.

Footnote 116:

  Dunton’s _Life and Errors_.

-----

The epitaph was as follows, and is engraved on Mrs Dunton’s tomb:—

 “TEARS TO THE MEMORY OF MRS ELIZABETH DUNTON, WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE,
                            _May 28, 1697_—

                  “Sacred urn! with whom we trust
                  This dear pile of sacred dust;
                  Know thy charge, and safely guard,
                  Till Death’s brazen gate’s unbarr’d;
                  Till the Angel bids it rise,
                  And removes to Paradise.
                  A wife obliging, tender, wise;
                  A friend to comfort and advise;
                  Virtue, mild as Zephyr’s breath;
                  Piety, which smiled in death:
                  Such a wife and such a friend
                  All lament, and all commend.
                  Most, with eating cares, opprest,
                  He who knew and loved her best;
                  Who her loyal heart did share,
                  He who reign’d unrivall’d there,
                  And no truce to sighs will give,
                  Till he die with her to live.
                  Or, if more we would comprize,
                  Here interr’d _Eliza_ lies.”

This epitaph was written within two months after Mrs Dunton’s death.
Dunton was professing unutterable distress on account of his wife’s
decease, and Wesley, in his epitaph, represents him as resolved to heave
his agonizing sighs until death should re-unite them in a more blissful
world than this; and yet, in the midst of all this pretended
blubberment, Dunton was sweethearting another lady, and, before the year
was out, actually made her his second wife. It is more than probable
that Samuel Wesley had some knowledge of this unseemly haste to contract
another matrimonial alliance, when, in the foregoing letter, he
expressed the hope that the epitaph for Dunton’s dead wife would come to
hand before he needed an epithalamium for his second one.

Wesley and Dunton had been warm and faithful friends for, at least, the
last fifteen years; but, from this period, their friendship seems to
have entirely ceased, and, ever after, Dunton speaks of his old friend
with unmistakable animosity. “Now my purse is empty,” snarls Dunton,
“nobody knows me. There is the rector of Epworth, that got his bread by
the Maggots I published. He has quite forgotten me.” Again—“My old
friend, Mr Samuel Wesley, was educated upon charity in a private
academy, if we may take his own word for it in his late pamphlet, which
was designedly written to expose and overthrow those academies. One
would have thought that, either gratitude or his own reputation among
his relations and best friends, might have kept him silent, though when
a man is resolved to do himself a mischief, who can help it. Mr Wesley
had an early inclination to poetry, but he usually wrote too fast to
write well. Two hundred couplets a day are too many by two-thirds to be
well furnished with all the beauties and graces of that art. He wrote
very much for me, both in verse and prose, though I shall not name over
the titles, because I am as unwilling to see my name at the bottom of
them, as Mr Wesley would be to subscribe his own. Mr Wesley had read
much, and is well skilled in the languages; he is generous and
good-humoured, and caresses his friends with a great deal of passion so
long as their circumstances are anything in order, and then he _drops_
them. I challenge the rector of Epworth (for he is not yet ‘My Lord,’
nor ‘His Grace,’) to prove that I injure him in his character. I could
be very _maggoty_ in the character of this _conforming Dissenter_; but,
except he further provokes me, I bid him farewell till we meet in
heaven, and there I hope we shall renew our friendship; for, human
frailties excepted, I believe Sam. Wesley a pious man. I shall only add,
that giving this true character of Parson Wesley, is all the
satisfaction I ever desire for his _dropping_ an old friend. I shall
leave him to struggle through life, and to make the best of it; but,
alas!

           ‘He loves too much the Heliconian strand,
           Whose stream’s ungarnish’d with the golden sand.’

I do not speak this out of prejudice to Mr Wesley; (for to forgive a
slight is so easy to me, it is scarce a virtue,) but this _rhyming_
circumstance of Mr Wesley is what I learn from the poem called, ‘The
Reformation of Manners,’[117] where are these words:—

         ‘Wesley, with pen and poverty beset,
         And Blackmore, versed in physic as in wit;
         Though this of Jesus—that of Job may sing,
         One bawdy play will twice their profits bring.
         And, had not both caress’d the flatter’d crown,
         This had no knighthood seen, nor that no gown.’”[118]

-----

Footnote 117:

  Written by Defoe.

Footnote 118:

  Dunton’s _Life and Errors_.

-----

All this is despicable growling. Dunton accuses Wesley that he had
ceased to be his friend, or, to use his own word, which twice over he
has italicised, because he had _dropped_ him. But what of that? Had
Wesley not had cause to drop him? Was it nothing that this man, who for
fifteen years had been blessed, in the sister of Susannah Wesley, with
one of the best wives that ever lived, began to sweetheart another
within two months after she was dead, though all the while he was
indulging in noisy grief for his irreparable loss, and was urging Wesley
to write both an epitaph and an elegy, for the devoted and exalted woman
whose place at his hearth and in his bed he was labouring to fill up
with another? Was it surprising that Samuel Wesley should resent this
insult to the memory of his wife’s sister, and that he should _drop_ the
friendship of a man who was making himself such a fool? Wesley was no
longer Dunton’s _friend_; but there is no evidence that he became
Dunton’s _enemy_. On the contrary, when Dunton was crushed with
financial embarrassments, Mr Wesley was not only _a_ creditor, but _the
chief_ creditor, and wrote to Dunton assuring him that he should do
nothing to his prejudice.[119] Dunton himself confesses this; and yet,
with consummate and most ungrateful impudence, not only whines about
Wesley’s _dropped_ friendship, but malignantly endeavours to injure
Wesley’s fair character.

-----

Footnote 119:

  Dunton’s _Life and Errors_.

-----

Dunton, in the foregoing extract, insinuates that Wesley had written
articles (we presume in the _Athenian Gazette_) which were discreditable
both to him and to his publisher; but, in the absence of something more
than insinuation, and taking into account the general character of
Wesley’s acknowledged writings, it is not unfair to say that Dunton’s
inuendo is as baseless as it is base.

Dunton intimates that Wesley had sought to be made a bishop, and had
cast a longing eye on even the dignity of an archbishop. The same thing
has been broadly uttered in a life of Defoe, recently written by William
Chadwick. This pungent and scurrilous author says:—“Wesley made his way
by flattering royalty; he could write either prose or poetry, and
dedicate his work to the queen for the time being, and then ask for a
living as the reward of his services. The rectory of Epworth was one
produce of his pen, Queen Mary being the patron. The neighbouring living
of Wroot he obtained for bedaubing with poetic flattery the Duke of
Marlborough, after his victory of Blenheim; and his traducing of the
Dissenters in the eventful year of 1703, was intended, through the royal
patronage, to send this time-serving flatterer into the Archbishopric of
Canterbury, upon the back of that unprincipled miscreant, Dr
Sacheverell.”[120]

-----

Footnote 120:

  Chadwick’s _Life of Defoe_, p. 214.

-----

The man that wrote this is as unprincipled as he says Sacheverell was.
His assertions are a tissue of falsehoods, in support of which he
adduces no evidence whatever. Samuel Wesley would have done no dishonour
to a bishop’s bench, but we fearlessly deny that there is any proof
existing, except such as is found in mean insinuations, like those of
John Dunton, that Samuel Wesley ever even “desired a bishop’s office,
much less that he wrote his books for the purpose of obtaining it.” The
whole thing is an unfounded and slanderous accusation, more disgraceful
to the accusers than it is injurious to the accused. Chadwick, no doubt,
founds his imputations against Wesley upon casual remarks made by men
like Dunton; but when Dunton and others fail to adduce proof, it is only
fair to doubt their correctness, inasmuch as they are obviously animated
by a malevolence which never scruples to utter falsehoods that are
likely to blacken the character of the man it hates.

So far as can be ascertained, the first thing Mr Wesley published, after
his removal to Epworth, was a “Sermon preached before the Society for
the Reformation of Manners.” This sermon was delivered, first, at St
James’s Church, Westminster, Feb. 13, 1698, about twelve months after
the settlement at Epworth, and was afterwards repeated at St Bride’s.
The text is, “Who will rise up for me against evildoers? or who will
stand up for me against the workers of iniquity?” (Psalm xciv. 16;) and
it is a curious fact that, sixty-five years after, John Wesley preached
before the same society, from the same text, in West Street Chapel,
Seven Dials.[121]

-----

Footnote 121:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. vi., p. 140.

-----

The Society for the Reformation of Manners was first instituted about
the year 1677, which was just before Samuel Wesley became a student in
the Stepney Academy. At that time Dr Anthony Horneck was at the height
of his useful popularity. Horneck was educated first at Heidelberg,
under the celebrated Spurzheim, and afterwards at Queen’s College,
Oxford. After exercising his ministry in Oxford, and at Doulton, in
Devonshire, he, in 1671, became preacher at the Savoy in London. At the
Revolution he was honoured with the appointment of chaplain to King
William and Queen Mary, and in 1693 became prebendary of Westminster. He
died in 1696. He was a man of extensive learning; particularly
conversant with the Oriental languages, ecclesiastical history,
controversial theology, and casuistry, and was the author of several
pious and learned works. Dunton says “he was a man of so great
usefulness that none saw him without reverence, or heard him without
wonder.”

Another popular and useful preacher, belonging to the same period, was
Mr Smithies, who was curate of Cripplegate for thirty years, and
preached the morning lecture at St Michael’s, Cornhill, where he was so
well beloved that he sought no other preferment. The eccentric writer
last quoted says, “His faithful and excellent preaching commanded the
attention of men, and his constancy in it procured their love. He was a
most humble and hearty Christian, and his practical books were in great
esteem.”

A third distinguished man must here be mentioned—William Beveridge. At
the university, Beveridge so much excelled in the learned languages,
that, at the age of eighteen, he wrote a Syriac grammar, and a treatise
on the excellency and use of the Oriental tongues. Three years after, in
1661, he became vicar of Ealing, in Middlesex, and subsequently he was
appointed Rector of St Peter’s, Cornhill, Prebend of St Paul’s, &c. In
1691, the see of Bath and Wells was offered him, but he declined
accepting it. In 1704, he became Bishop of St Asaph; and, in this
elevated station, prosecuted with great zeal and diligence every
practicable measure for advancing the interests of religion. He died in
1708, and left the greatest part of his estate to the societies for
propagating the gospel, and for promoting Christian knowledge. Beveridge
was a voluminous author; and, as a preacher, was so successful,
especially at St Peter’s, Cornhill, that he was denominated “the great
reviver and restorer of primitive piety.”

The earnest preaching of these three godly ministers was the means of
converting a considerable number of young men who applied to them for
religious counsel. Beveridge, Horneck, and Smithies advised them “to
meet together once a week, and to apply themselves to good discourse and
things wherein they might edify one another.” They acted upon this
advice, and, at every meeting, made a collection for the poor. By means
of the fund thus provided, numbers of poor families were relieved, and
some were put into a way of trade; sundry prisoners were set at liberty
by the payment of their debts, several orphans were maintained, and a
few poor scholars received assistance at the university.[122]

-----

Footnote 122:

  Bishop Burnet states that there had formerly been societies of this
  description both among the Puritans and Dissenters; but the societies
  which now sprung up belonged to the Established Church. He adds, they
  were chiefly conducted by Dr Beveridge and Dr Horneck. Some disliked
  them, and were afraid they might give birth to new factions; but wiser
  and better men thought it was not fit to check a spirit of devotion at
  such a time. After the Revolution, these societies became more
  numerous; and, by means of their collections, maintained clergymen to
  read prayers at so many places, and at so many different hours, that
  devout persons might avail themselves of the privilege of joining in
  sacred worship at every hour of the day. There were constant
  sacraments in many churches every Sabbath; and there were greater
  numbers present at both prayers and sacraments than had been observed
  in the memory of man. The societies began to inform the magistrates of
  swearers, drunkards, Sabbath-breakers, and adulterers; and, because of
  this, they were called Societies of Reformation. Some of the
  magistrates encouraged them, but others treated them roughly. Some of
  the societies set themselves to raise charity schools; others printed
  books, and distributed them over the nation; and were, therefore,
  called societies for propagating Christian knowledge. In many places
  of the nation the clergy met together to confer about matters of
  religion and learning. And, last of all, a corporation was created by
  King William for propagating the Gospel among infidels, and for
  settling schools in our plantations.—_Burnet’s History of his own
  Time_, 1st edition, vol. ii. p. 318.

-----

These converted young men soon found the benefit of their weekly
conferences with each other. Each person related his religious
experience to the rest, and thus they became the means of building
themselves up in the faith of Christ. The reader will at once perceive
that John Wesley’s United Societies of Methodists, with their weekly
class meetings, instituted sixty-two years afterwards, were almost, if
not altogether, an exact revival of these weekly meetings, begun in
1677.

For the better management of their charitable fund, two stewards were
elected in 1678. The meetings were continued until the accession of
James II. in 1685. At this period, all private meetings began to be
regarded with suspicion, and the result was, that some of the members of
these pre-Methodist societies ceased to attend such weekly assemblies
for Christian fellowship; others became lukewarm in religious matters;
and some became extravagant and vain. A few, however, continued
faithful, and resolved to exert themselves to the utmost in maintaining
and increasing the purity and power of religion in themselves and
others. At their own expense, they set up public prayers, every evening
at eight o’clock, at St Clement Danes, where there was always a full
congregation. They also instituted, in the same church, an evening
monthly lecture, which was preached by the most eminent divines in
London. All this excited attention. The Papists, then in power, regarded
these young Christians with hatred and anxiety, and exercised their
malignant cunning to ensnare them. Just at this juncture, and probably
for political reasons, the name of “Society” was exchanged for that of
“Club;” and instead of the weekly meetings being held, as heretofore, in
the house of a friend, who might be endangered by such assemblies, they
were held in quiet taverns, where the members could have a room
appropriated to themselves, and where, under the pretext of a small
expenditure in tavern refreshments, they could safely recite their
religious experience, and confer on plans of religious usefulness.

On the accession of William and Mary to the throne, in 1689, religious
secrecy was no longer needed, and the societies now began to extend the
sphere of their operations. At first their chief object, in their weekly
meetings, was to afford to each other mutual assistance in their
Christian life; but, now, they enacted a rule that every member should
endeavour to add to the society at least one other member. This led to
an amazing increase of their numbers, and the result was that similar
societies were multiplied in all parts of London.[123] This led some
ill-affected persons to report to the bishop of the diocese that these
societies were engendering religious pride, and would issue in a church
schism. A vindication was sent to the bishop, stating that the only
object the members had, was to quicken each other’s affections towards
spiritual things, and to assist each other to live in all respects as
Christians. The bishop was satisfied, and said, “God forbid that I
should be against such excellent designs!”

-----

Footnote 123:

  For most of these facts, and for many that follow, the writer is
  indebted to “An Account of the Rise and Progress of the Religious
  Societies in the City of London, &c., and of their endeavours for
  Reformation of Manners,” by Josiah Woodward, D.D. The sixth edition.
  London, 1744.

-----

The charge against the societies of intending to create a schism was
most unfounded; for so far was it from their purpose to form a sect,
that they carefully guarded against the possibility of this, by their
strict attendance at the monthly sacrament, by the use of many of the
church prayers in their private meetings, by their setting up public
prayers in many of the city churches, and by their humble deference to
their respective ministers, without whose approbation no rule, prayer,
or practice was allowed among them.

It is also noteworthy that great care was exercised in admitting persons
to membership among them. It was required that those who were desirous
of joining the society should furnish a testimony of their sense of
spiritual things, and of their sincere intention to live a religious
life; and this testimony was often presented in writing.

At length, these associated societies of converted people took another
step, and resolved to exert themselves to check the public and
scandalous sins which were so rampant in the capital. At first, they
scarcely knew how to act; but, just at the time when the resolution was
adopted, four or five gentlemen of the Church of England, well
acquainted with the law, formed a similar resolution, and determined to
do all they could, by legal authority, to chastise and suppress the
impudent vices and impieties so prevalent among their fellow-citizens.
The first step taken was to make an abstract of all the penal laws
against vice and profanity, and to draw up prudential rules for the
legal conviction of offenders. The next was to obtain, through
Tillotson, in 1691, a letter from Queen Mary, requiring magistrates to
act in such matters, and to enforce the laws. The Lord Mayor, the
aldermen, and other magistrates of London consented; and now copies of
the abstract of penal laws, of the prudential rules that had been drawn
up, of the queen’s letter, and of the magistrates’ answer, were sent all
over the kingdom; and blank warrants were deposited in divers places of
the capital for the convenience of informers.

The _Athenian Oracle_, (vol. iii., p. 30,) tells us that the good and
great men of the age prosecuted the affair with unheard-of vigour; and
many persons of quality met together to concert measures to help forward
this crusade against the profanities of the city. A petty sessions was
held once a-week in Bloomsbury Court-house and Hick’s Hall for the
conviction of offenders; and another was about to be set up in
Westminster.[124] Fit persons were appointed to districts all over the
city and suburbs, to take informations and fill up warrants. The queen
commanded military officers to put down wickedness and disorders among
soldiers. To lessen and prevent debauchery, the time for holding
Bartholomew Fair was to be diminished, &c.

-----

Footnote 124:

  This article was written about 1691, and probably by Samuel Wesley.

-----

All this created great excitement. A lawyer, in a coffee-house, publicly
declared that the whole thing was a trick of the magistrates for the
purpose of getting fees, and that he would give them £2000 for their
emoluments during a single year. This, says the _Athenian Oracle_, was a
scandalous untruth, for already one hundred and forty warrants had been
granted for which not one farthing had been charged for fees; and things
were being so well managed, that, though it was likely that ten thousand
warrants would be granted during the next twelve months, it would not be
in the power of the officers levying the penalties to make the least
profit by their legal prosecutions.

This royal, and almost national movement, could not have been more
opportune. The religious societies had resolved to make an attempt to
suppress and to punish vice, but scarce knew how to act; just at this
juncture the steps were taken above recited, and now the way was open.
Accordingly, the societies met together and prepared for action, by
adopting the five following rules, which, in the prosecution of their
work, were to be religiously observed:—

1. Christian poverty of spirit, to be cultivated by a deep sense of
their own impurity and imperfection.

2. A disinterested mind, wholly renouncing all carnal ends.

3. Habitual prayer to God, with a courageous and unwearied pursuit of
such things as are agreeable to His will, and subservient to His glory.

4. Unfeigned charity towards all men, especially to their souls.

5. Quiet resignation to the Providence of God in all events.

The societies now began their work, having really become the Society for
the Reformation of Manners. One section of the members were appointed to
act in London, and another section to act in Westminster. Prompt
information was given to the magistrates of all the debaucheries and
profanities they witnessed; and not a few were the reproaches and
threats they met with from evil-doers.

Very soon these converted people, belonging to the religious societies,
were joined by an association of housekeepers in the Tower Hamlets, who,
for their own protection, had banded themselves together to put an end
to the thieving and lewdness that abounded in that neighbourhood.[125]
The results were—several Sunday markets were abolished; some hundreds of
brothels were shut up; music halls, which had degenerated into nurseries
of licentiousness, were closed; multitudes of swearers,
Sabbath-breakers, and drunkards, were legally convicted; and above two
thousand prostitutes, night-walkers, and keepers of houses of ill-fame,
were sentenced by the magistrates as the law directed; many of them
being punished by fines, others by imprisonment, others by a suppression
of their licences, and not a few by being publicly whipped at the cart’s
tail.

-----

Footnote 125:

  We have before us a pamphlet with the following title:—“Proposals for
  a National Reformation of Manners, Humbly Offered to the Consideration
  of our Magistrates and Clergy. Published by the Society for
  Reformation. London: Printed for John Dunton, 1694.” In the preface it
  is stated, that “Atheism and profaneness never got such an ascendancy
  as at this day. A thick gloominess hath overspread our horizon, and
  our light looks like the evening of the world.” After dwelling on the
  sins of the nation, it is recommended—1. “That there be a solemn fast,
  without any appearance of ornament among us, from the highest to the
  lowest.” 2. “That care be taken to establish justice and judgment unto
  the poor and needy, the destitute, and the oppressed.” 3. “That there
  be a yearly allowance for defraying the necessary expenses of carrying
  on this work of Reformation of Manners.” 4. “That the King and Queen
  be supplicated to suppress play-houses.” 5. “That great care be taken
  to put a difference between the clean and unclean in the visible
  Church, and not to admit all sorts of loose professors to the Holy
  Communion.”

-----

These were bold steps to take, but they were not unneeded. Daniel Defoe,
writing at that period, has drawn a terrific picture of the age. The
following are lines taken at random from his poems. There are others far
too vivid to be reprinted:—

            “K——’s a Dissenter, and severe of life,
            Instructs his household and _corrects_ his wife;
            Lectures and sermons he attends by day,
            But yet comes home at night too drunk to pray.

            “The country Justice may disturb the peace;
            The clergy drink and whore; the gospel cease;
            The doctors cavil, and the priests contend,
            And Convocation quarrels see no end.

            “Superior lewdness crowns thy magistrates,
            And vice, grown gray, usurps thy reverend seats;
            Eternal blasphemies and oaths abound,
            And bribes among thy senators are found.”

Woodward tells us that, in the music halls, it was not unusual for
persons of both sexes to dance together in shameless nakedness; and
that, within a brief period, there had been above twenty murders
committed in these licentious concert rooms.

Samuel Wesley’s description of the morals of the city and of the nation
is appalling. In the sermon which he preached before the Society for the
Reformation of Manners, in 1698, he writes:—“Our infamous theatres seem
to have done more mischief to the faith and morals of the nation than
Hobbes himself. With as much reason may we exclaim against our plays and
interludes as did the old zealous fathers against the pagan spectacles,
and as justly rank these, as they did the others, among those pomps and
vanities which our baptism obliges us to renounce and to abhor. What
communion hath the temple of God with idols?—with those abominable
mysteries of iniquity, which outdo the old Fescenina of the heathen, the
lewd orgies of Bacchus, and the impious feasts of Isis and Priapus? I
know not how any person can profitably, or indeed decently, present
themselves here before God’s holy oracle, who frequent those schools of
vice, and mysteries of profaneness and lewdness, to unlearn _there_ what
they are taught _here_ out of God’s Holy Word. It is true the stage
pretends to reform manners; but let them tell us how many converts to
virtue and religion they have made during the last thirty or forty
years. We can give numerous and sad instances to the contrary. A brave
and virtuous nation has been too generally depraved and corrupted, and
nothing has more highly conduced to this than these insufferable and
abominable representations at theatres. If oaths; if blasphemy; if
perpetual profanation of the glorious name of God and of our blessed
Redeemer; if making a scoff and a laugh of His Holy Word and
institutions; if filthiness and foolish talking, and profane or immodest
jesting; if representing, excusing, and recommending the vices of
mankind; if teaching the people to think virtue ridiculous, and religion
fit for none but old people, fools, and lunatics; if contempt of
superiors; if false notions of honour; if lewdness, and pride, and
revenge, and even murder;—if these are the lessons which are daily
taught in the public play-houses, to the disgrace of our age, corruption
of our morals, and scandal of our nation, then we may fairly ask, Are
these fit places for the education of our youth, and the diversion of
those of riper years? or, indeed, are they fit places to be _tolerated_
under a Christian government?”[126]

-----

Footnote 126:

  _Meth. Mag._, 1814, p. 729.

-----

Mr Wesley continues:—“Alas! what reason has every one, who has any real
concern for God and for his country, to cry out with the father of old,
‘To what dregs of time are we reserved!’ Men may almost print or speak
what blasphemies they please with impunity, and even with triumph. Too
many of the subordinate magistrates will not act, nor the people
generally assist them in the punishment of evil-doers. It is reckoned a
part of good breeding, or at least an argument of wit and spirit, to
ridicule all that is sacred, and to profane the glorious and fearful
name of God; and it is regarded as the rudest and the most clownish
thing in the world to reprove, to detect, and punish such offenders,
though by the most legal, prudent, and advisable methods.”

The Society for the Reformation of Manners was of great service, but it
was not perfect. Defoe, in his “Poor Man’s Plea,” alleges that the laws
against vicious practices were cobweb laws, which caught small flies,
but which the great ones broke through. The Lord Mayor whipt about the
poor beggars and a few bad women, and sent them to the House of
Correction; and some alehouse-keepers and vintners were fined for
drawing drink on Sundays; but the man, with a gold ring and gay clothes,
might reel through the open streets, and no one noticed it. The
lewdness, profaneness, and immorality of the gentry, which was the main
cause of the general debauchery of the kingdom, were not at all touched
by the laws as now executed.

These are distressing pictures; and it is not surprising that the
converted people, joined together in the religious societies instituted
about 1677, should set themselves the task of suppressing such
impieties, and thus give birth, about the year 1691, to the Society for
the Reformation of Manners. To some extent, the two Societies were one,
and yet they were distinct and separate. The religious societies were
instituted principally to promote religion among themselves; the
Reformation Society to suppress public vice in others. The religious
societies were altogether composed of members of the Church of England;
the Reformation Society was composed of members of the Church of
England, and of other churches as well.[127]

-----

Footnote 127:

  Calamy says: “The foundation of the Society for Reformation of Manners
  was laid in 1692; and the Dissenters were, from the first, as ready to
  encourage and assist in it as any.”—CALAMY’S _Life and Times_.

-----

After the Society for the Reformation of Manners had existed about forty
years, most of its original members were dead, and it became defunct,
and, from about 1730 to 1757, no such society existed. At that time, and
perhaps as the result of the Methodist societies being instituted in
1739, the old Society for Reformation of Manners was revived. The
approbation of the Lord Mayor of London and of the Court of Aldermen was
obtained; and thousands of books of instruction were printed, and were
sent to constables and parish officers to remind them of their duty. In
the beginning of 1758, the laws against immorality were again enforced,
and the streets and fields swept of their notorious offenders. In five
years, about ten thousand persons were brought to justice, principally
for gambling, swearing, Sabbath-breaking, lewdness, and selling obscene
prints.[128] Who will deny that John Wesley had much to do with the
revival of this society, as his father, Samuel Wesley, had to do with
its early institution.[129] The society, at the first, arose out of the
religious societies then existing; and we are strongly of opinion that
the revival of the society, after it had become defunct, arose out of
the Methodist societies of 1739, and which bore an almost exact
resemblance to the religious societies of 1677. At all events, we find
John Wesley thoroughly identifying himself with the revived Reformation
Society of 1757. In 1763, he preached before the Society in West Street
Chapel, Seven Dials, taking, as already stated, the very text that his
father took sixty-five years before.[130] In 1764, he proposed to the
London Leaders Meeting that they should have a congregational collection
to assist to liquidate the heavy debt of the Society for the Reformation
of Manners, though, at the very time, his own society debt in London was
about £900.[131] And, in 1766, he dined with W. Welsh, the father of the
revived Society, and most feelingly laments that it has a second time
ceased to exist. The immediate cause of this, was an action instituted
against the society, in the King’s Bench, which issued in a verdict with
£300 damages. This verdict was obtained by the false swearing of a
wretch whom the society afterwards convicted of wilful perjury. Still
the death-blow to the Society was struck, and John Wesley writes: “They
could never recover the expense of that suit. Lord, how long shall the
ungodly triumph?”[132]

-----

Footnote 128:

  _See_ Wesley’s _Works_, vol. vi. p. 145.

Footnote 129:

  The person who was the principal means of resuscitating the Society
  for the Reformation of Manners was W. Welsh; but John Wesley was a
  personal friend of W. Welsh, and probably gave him counsel and
  encouragement.—_See_ Wesley’s _Journal_, February 2, 1766.

Footnote 130:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. vi. p. 140.

Footnote 131:

  Wesley’s _Journal_, Nov. 4, 1764.

Footnote 132:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. iii. p. 230, and vol. vi. p. 157.

-----

Such, then, was the origin, the object, and the history of the society
before which Samuel Wesley preached, in St James’s Church, Westminster,
in 1698. He was still a young man, and the circumstance of him being
selected to preach, shows the high estimation in which he was already
held. The sermon is long, able, and earnest. “Daring and open
wickedness,” he writes, “is high treason against the Majesty of heaven;
and are not all His liege subjects under the deepest obligations to
oppose it? Who has courage, and constancy, and bravery, equal to so
glorious an undertaking? Blessed be God! we have now the encouragement
of superiors. The sword of justice no longer lies rusting and idle, but
is drawn and furbished for the battle, and glitters against the enemies
of God and of our country. Shall a wretched mortal, a worm of the same
dust with ourselves, presume to affront my Father, my Patron, my Friend,
my Benefactor, my Saviour, and shall I want courage, or honesty to
oppose him, to detect him, and to bring him to that shame and punishment
he so highly merits? Whom are we afraid of, that we forget the Lord our
Maker? Let all the potsherds of the earth fall down together, and humble
themselves before the King, the Lord of hosts, and let Him alone be
exalted, whose glory is above the heavens, and who shakes the earth at
His displeasure. Let us often read the lives of martyrs. Here were
Christians indeed,—who trampled the world, subdued the flesh, and
conquered the devil, following the great Captain of their salvation, as
He himself led the way, with crimson banners, and garments rolled in
blood; and shall we pretend to follow them, as they did Him, and yet be
afraid of a few hard words or frowns from mistaken or evil men? Oh pity!
pity! poor sinners, and pray to God to pity them, who want the sense and
grace to pity themselves; but show your pity to them, not by a cruel
fondness, but by a kind and wholesome severity. Why should we suffer
them to tumble over a fatal precipice, for fear of disturbing or
disobliging them, by pulling them back with some haste and violence? Go
on, then, in the name of God. Remember the eyes of God, men, and angels,
are upon you. Be sober, be vigilant. Forbid none from casting out
devils, because he follows not with _you_. Be careful and humble, and
all earth and hell can never hurt you. Be willing, be thankful to be
accounted the filth and offscouring of the world; the disturbers of the
public peace, by those who themselves notoriously break it. Think much
of heaven—forget not death. Be constant at sacraments, and in prayer,
public, domestic, and private. Neglect not to sing the high praises of
God. Remember the poor, especially God’s poor. Pity the afflicted,
especially our dear brethren who now ‘suffer for the Word of God and the
testimony of Jesus.’ Oh the peace, the joy, the triumph, the exultation
of mind which a good man possesses, when he reflects on any sufferings
he undergoes for the cause of God, and for the cause of despised
religion and virtue! He bids the world do its worst, for he has a
reserve beyond it,—and knows who will receive him into everlasting
habitations, and say unto him ‘Well done, good and faithful servant,
enter thou into the joy of thy Lord!’”

We have thus attempted to give an outline of the history of the Society
for the Reformation of Manners; and extracts from Samuel Wesley’s
sermon, preached before it in 1698; but, before the chapter closes, a
few words must be added in reference to the religious societies out of
which the other society arose.

The religious societies, begun in 1677, continued to exist until after
John Wesley had instituted his Methodist societies. Wesley’s first
society was formed at Oxford in 1729, and consisted of himself, his
brother Charles, Mr Morgan, and Mr Kirkham, who spent some evenings
every week, in unitedly reading the Greek Testament.[133] The second was
formed at Savannah in 1736, where he met a select few in his own house
after evening prayers, and read and conversed with them, and concluded
the meetings with a psalm.[134] On his return to England, we find him
attending the meetings of the old religious societies which were still
existing. On Sunday, April 26, 1738, he “went to a _society_ in Oxford,
where, as his manner then was at _all societies_, after using a collect
or two and the Lord’s prayer, he expounded a chapter in the New
Testament, and concluded with three or four more collects and a
psalm.”[135] In September of the same year, we find him attending and
taking part in _society_ meetings in Bear Yard, in Aldersgate Street,
and in Gutter Lane, London.[136] On the 15th of November following, he
expounded at three _societies_ in Bristol.[137] In April 1739, in
Bristol, he began “expounding our Lord’s Sermon on the Mount to a little
_society_, which was accustomed to meet once or twice a week in Nicholas
Street;”[138] and later on, in the same month, and in the same city,
while “at a little _society_ in the Back Lane, the floor of the room
gave way, and fell down with a great noise.”[139] In June 1739, he “went
to a _society_ at Wapping, where many began to call upon God with strong
cries and tears.”[140] On September 9th, he “went to a _society_ at
Fetter Lane, and exhorted them to love one another;”[141] and two or
three weeks afterwards “went as _usual_ to the _society_ at St James’s;”
and also to a _society_ at Deptford.[142] In April, 1740, we find him at
“a little _society_ at Islington, which had stood untainted from the
beginning;”[143] and in the month of May following, he met with the
“members of a religious _society_ at Newcastle-on-Tyne, which had
subsisted for many years, had a fine library, and to whom their steward
read a sermon every Sunday.”[144]

-----

Footnote 133:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. viii. p. 334.

Footnote 134:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. i. p. 40.

Footnote 135:

  _Ibid._, Vol. i. p. 84.

Footnote 136:

  _Ibid._, p. 149.

Footnote 137:

  _Ibid._, p. 153.

Footnote 138:

  _Ibid._, p. 174.

Footnote 139:

  _Ibid._, p. 176.

Footnote 140:

  _Ibid._, p. 192.

Footnote 141:

  _Ibid._, p. 211.

Footnote 142:

  _Ibid._, p. 214.

Footnote 143:

  _Ibid._, p. 254.

Footnote 144:

  _Ibid._, p. 351.

-----

All this affords ample proof that the old religious societies, begun in
1677, still existed; and there cannot be a doubt that it was a knowledge
of their usefulness that led John Wesley to institute his united
societies in 1739. He tells us that, about that time, persons who had
been awakened to a sense of their sin and danger, by the preaching of
himself and his brother Charles, came to them for religious counsel and
consolation. He writes:—“We advised them: ‘Strengthen you one
another—talk together as often as you can, and pray earnestly with and
for one another, that you may endure to the end, and be saved.’ They
replied, ‘But we want you likewise to talk with us.’ So I told them, ‘If
you will all of you come together every Thursday evening, I will gladly
spend some time with you in prayer, and give you the best advice I can.’
Thus,” he adds, “arose what was afterwards called _a society_; a very
innocent name, and very common in London, for any number of people
associating themselves together. They united themselves in order to pray
together, to receive the word of exhortation, and to watch over one
another in love, that they might help each other to work out their
salvation.”[145] A few days after this society was formed, some of the
members expressed a determination to make a quarterly subscription to
assist Wesley to pay for the lease of the Foundry, and a steward was
appointed to receive the money;[146] and very soon after that, the
society was divided into smaller companies called “classes,” consisting
of about twelve persons each, and one of whom was styled “the
leader.”[147]

-----

Footnote 145:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. viii. p. 240.

Footnote 146:

  _Ibid._, p. 299.

Footnote 147:

  _Ibid._, p. 259.

-----

Such is John Wesley’s own account of the rise of his “United Societies.”
In all this, we see an exact repetition of what was done by Beveridge,
Horneck, and Smithies sixty-two years before. The religious societies
instituted by them were the pioneers of the Methodist societies, and
prepared their way. Their origin and number indicate the existence of a
large amount of experimental and earnest piety, even in the midst of
abounding wickedness. They were immensely useful, and were the means of
conferring great benefits both upon the members themselves and upon
others. They were instrumental in beginning and establishing about one
hundred schools in London and its suburbs, in which thousands of poor
children were taught gratuitously, and were carefully educated in good
manners. Their rules required, that every member should be a member of
the Church of England; that the members should meet together once a week
to encourage each other in practical holiness; that all controversial
and political discussions should be avoided at their meetings; that
every member should give a weekly contribution towards the public stock
for pious and charitable uses; that every one absenting himself from
four meetings in succession, without just cause, should be looked upon
as disaffected to the society; that none should be admitted as new
members without due notice, and without inquiry concerning their
religious purposes and manner of life; and that all the members should
pray many times every day, receive the Lord’s Supper at least once a
month, keep a monthly fast, and pray for the whole society in their
private devotions.

We have seen John Wesley’s connexion with these societies. What about
his father? Was he acquainted with them, and did he give them his
approbation and sympathy? Happily these are questions which can be
answered. “A Letter concerning the Religious Societies,” was published
by Samuel Wesley in 1699. After giving a description of the societies,
Mr Wesley proceeds to argue that, so far from being any injury to the
Church of England, they would greatly promote its interests. He
expresses a wish that such societies might be formed in all considerable
towns, and even in populous villages. He writes—“There are a great many
parishes in this kingdom which consist of several thousands of souls.
Now what one man, or two, or three, is sufficient for such a multitude?
Those who have but one or two thousand will find their cares heavy
enough, especially now they have neither the catechists of the ancients
to assist them, nor those clerks which are mentioned in the rubric.” He
then goes on to state, that, in such cases, the religious societies
would be of immense service. Acting under the authority and direction of
the clergy, “they would be as so many churchwardens, or overseers, or
almost deacons under them; caring for the sick and poor, giving an
account of the spiritual estate of themselves and others, persuading
parents to catechise their children and to fit them for confirmation,
and discoursing with those who have left the church to bring them back
to it. This assistance would conduce as much to the health of the
minister’s body, by easing him of many a weary step and fruitless
journey, as it would conduce to the satisfaction of his mind, in the
visible success of his labours. Such societies, so far from injuring the
Church, would be so many new bulwarks against its enemies, and would
give it daily more strength, and beauty, and reputation.”

He then proceeds to show that the institution of such societies was not
a novelty; that the Church of Rome was indebted for most of the progress
that it had made in recent times to the several societies it had
nourished in its bosom; and that the Marquis de Renty in France had
formed, as early as 1640, many societies of devout persons, who, in
their weekly meetings, consulted about the relief of the poor, engaged
in united prayer, sang psalms, read books of devotion, and discoursed
together of their own spiritual concerns.

Wesley then argues that such societies are really necessary, on the
ground, that, without them, the members of the Church have no
opportunity for that “delightful employment of all good Christians,”
pious conversation. He concludes thus:—“The design of these societies is
not to gather churches out of churches, to foment new schisms and
divisions, and to make heathens of all the rest of their Christian
brethren; but to promote, in a regular manner, that which is the end of
every Christian, the glory of God, included in the welfare and salvation
of themselves and their neighbours. It cannot be denied that there may
and will be some persons in these societies of more heat than light, of
more zeal than judgment; but where was ever any body of men without some
such characters? But since the very rules of their institution do
strictly oblige them to the practice of humility and charity, and to
avoid censoriousness and spiritual pride, the common rocks of those who
make a more than ordinary profession of religion, I see not what human
prudence can provide any farther in this matter.”

These extracts are important, inasmuch as they afford ample evidence
that Samuel Wesley (the High Churchman, as Mr Watson and others
erroneously call him) was as much in favour of Christian fellowship,
such as Methodists now hold in classes, as was the founder of the
Methodists himself; and they also further prove that, when John Wesley
employed lay agents to assist himself and his brother, and to promote
the glory of God in the salvation of men, he did nothing more than what
had been earnestly advocated and recommended by his father nearly half a
century before. In employing lay-agents, John Wesley was a-head of his
age; but he only did what his father had urged to be done in 1699, and
what the Church of England itself, at this present moment, is wishing to
have accomplished—viz., the employment of a Sub-Diaconate to co-operate
with the regular ministry.




                              CHAPTER XII.
                     DEBT AND DILIGENCE—1700–1704.


When Mr Wesley removed to Epworth he turned farmer, and took the
management of his tithes into his own hands. The rector’s domestic
necessities were increasing every year, and it was natural that he
should wish to make his glebe as profitable as he could. To commence
farming, however, was a serious mistake. First of all, Mr Wesley was
without capital to begin; and to attempt to farm without capital, or to
borrow capital and pay large interest for it, is not the way for a poor
man’s prospects to be made better; and then, in the second place, the
great and the good-hearted rector, notwithstanding his genius, his
learning, and his diligence, seems to have had no aptitude for business,
“He is not fit for worldly business,” wrote his brother-in-law, Samuel
Annesley, who had employed him to transact some of his affairs in
England, whilst he was absent in India; to which his wife, Susannah
Wesley, answered:—“This I assent to, and must own I was mistaken when I
thought him fit for business. My own experience hath since convinced me
that he is one of those who, our Saviour saith, are not so wise in their
generation as the children of this world.”

The good man had no knowledge of the farming business; he had no money
to begin it; and, to say the least, his ardent love of books, and his
long-established literary habits, were not friendly to it. It was a
great mistake for the learned and studious rector to turn farmer, and no
wonder that such a step led to debt and serious embarrassment. Perhaps
this is the most fitting place to introduce the letters following, all
of which were written to Archbishop Sharpe:—

                                           EPWORTH, _Dec. 30, 1700_.

  “MY LORD,—I have lived on the thought of your Grace’s generous offer
  ever since I was at Bishopthorpe, and the hope I have of seeing some
  end, or at least mitigation, of my troubles, makes me pass through
  them with much more ease than I should otherwise have done. I can now
  make a shift to be dunned, with some patience; and to be affronted,
  because I want the virtue of riches, by those who scarce think there
  is any other virtue.

  “I must own, I was ashamed, when at Bishopthorpe, to confess that I
  was £300 in debt, when I have a living of which I have made £200 per
  annum, though I could hardly let it now for eightscore.

  “I doubt not but one reason of my being sunk so far is my not
  understanding worldly affairs, and my aversion to law, which my people
  have always known but too well. But, I think, I can give a tolerable
  account of my affairs, and satisfy any equal judge that a better
  husband than myself might have been in debt, though perhaps not so
  deeply, had he been in the same circumstances, and met with the same
  misfortunes.

  “’Twill be no great wonder that, when I had but £50 per annum for six
  or seven years together, nothing to begin the world with, one child at
  least per annum, and my wife sick for half that time, that I should
  run £150 behindhand, especially when about £100 of it had been
  expended in goods, without doors and within.

  “When I had the rectory of Epworth given me, my Lord of Sarum was so
  generous as to pass his word to his goldsmith[148] for £100, which I
  borrowed of him. It cost me very little less than £50 of this in my
  journey to London, and in getting into my living, for the Broad Seal,
  &c.; and with the other £50 I stopped the mouths of my most
  importunate creditors.

-----

Footnote 148:

    Meaning his banker.

-----

  “When I removed to Epworth, I was forced to take up £50 more, for
  setting up a little husbandry, when I took the tithes into my own
  hand, and for buying some part of what was necessary towards
  furnishing my house, which was larger, as well as my family, than what
  I had on the other side of the country.

  “The next year my barn fell, which cost me £40 in rebuilding, (thanks
  to your Grace for part of it;) and, having an aged mother, who must
  have gone to prison if I had not assisted her, she cost me upwards of
  £40 more, which obliged me to take up another £50. I have had but
  three children born since I came hither, about three years since; but
  another is coming, and my wife is incapable of any business in my
  family, as she has been for almost a quarter of a year; yet we have
  but one maid-servant, in order to retrench all possible expenses.

  “My first-fruits came to about £28; my tenths are near £3 per annum. I
  pay a yearly pension of £3, out of my rectory, to John of Jerusalem.
  My taxes came to upwards of £20 per annum, but they are now retrenched
  to about half. My collection to the poor comes to £5 per annum;
  besides which, they have lately bestowed an apprentice upon me, whom,
  I suppose, I must teach to beat rhyme. Ten pounds a year I allow my
  mother, to help to keep her from starving. I wish I could give as good
  an account for some charities, which I am now satisfied have been
  imprudent, considering my circumstances.

  “Fifty pounds interest and principal I have paid my Lord of Sarum’s
  goldsmith. All which together keeps me necessitous, especially since
  interest-money begins to pinch me; and I am always called upon for
  money before I make it, and must buy everything at the worst hand;
  whereas, could I be so happy as to get on the right side of my income
  I should not fear, by God’s help, to live honestly in the world, and
  to leave a little to my children after me. I think, as it is, I could
  perhaps work it out in time, in half a dozen or half a score years, if
  my heart should hold so long; but for that, God’s will be done.

  “Humbly asking pardon for this tedious trouble, I am, your Grace’s
  most obliged and most humble servant,

                                                        “S. WESLEY.”

This is a painfully interesting letter. A few explanations may be
acceptable. He had been put to considerable expense “for the Broad
Seal,” the meaning of which is, that, as the Epworth living belonged to
the Crown, his title to the gift of it required the affixing of the
“Broad Seal,” for which, of course, he had to pay the official fees.
Then, he had to pay £28 for “first-fruits;” £3 for “tenths,” and other
£3 to “John of Jerusalem.” The “first-fruits” were a sort of fine levied
on a clergyman’s first year’s income, when he had the good fortune to be
promoted, the money being paid to the Government. The “tenths” were a
tax paid to the Crown _every_ year. The £3 paid to John of Jerusalem was
an impost of the same description. Down to a certain period, a number of
churches in England were obliged to pay toll to the Priory of St John of
Jerusalem; but, at the suppression of the monasteries, all the
emoluments of this priory were given to the king, and, as the rectory of
Epworth had been accustomed to pay to the value of £3 per annum to that
house, this was the sum which the kings of England continued to receive
from Epworth rectory.

He had been obliged to take a parish apprentice. At that period, and for
a long time after, it was customary for parochial officers to relieve
themselves, of the burden of maintaining the children of their paupers,
by compelling the parishioners, in rotation, to take such children as
apprentices, and to teach them their respective trades. One of these
youngsters had been forced upon the poor rector, and, as he had no trade
to teach him, he playfully proposes to instruct him in the unprofitable
business of making poetry, to which he himself had been so long
addicted.

His aged mother was still living, but was crushed with poverty, and had
been in danger of imprisonment for debt. For about thirty years she had
been a lonely widow, and seems to have been dependent upon her son
Samuel’s £10 per annum for her daily bread. The question naturally
occurs, Was the poor rector the only one willing to assist his mother?
Was nothing done for her by her son Matthew? Matthew rose to
considerable eminence in the medical profession, and had an extensive
and profitable practice in London. Thirty years after the period of
which we are now writing, when he visited the Epworth family, he is
represented as a man of wealth, and yet where is the evidence that he
helped to support his mother? Matthew Wesley is described by his niece
Mehetabel as one of the gentlest of human beings, and as rescuing
thousands from the grave by his healing skill. He was of sufficient
eminence to have his death celebrated in the poetical department of the
_Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1737; but, excepting a little kindness shown
to one or two of his brother’s children, we are left without evidence
that he possessed any of that nobility of heart, which prompted the
embarrassed rector to squeeze out of his scanty income the pittance
which he yearly gave to his much-loved mother.

Samuel Wesley’s attachment to the Established Church was conscientious
and strong; otherwise there was enough in his mother’s history to have
made him its enemy for ever. By the relentless and intolerant bigotry of
that Church, her husband had been deprived of the means of sustaining
his family, and had been persecuted and driven from place to place, and
not allowed the opportunity of providing for either his wife or his
children. By the same Church’s intolerance, he had been brought to an
untimely grave; and his widow, for long, long years, had been struggling
with abject poverty. Her son Samuel knew all this; and yet,
notwithstanding his having been trained for the Dissenting ministry, he
entered the very Church which had inflicted so much misery upon his
father, and which, to the day of her death, made Dr Thomas Fuller’s
niece, Samuel Wesley’s mother, a needy object of charity and alms.
Nothing but conscientious conviction of duty, could have induced such a
man to attach himself to such a Church.

Samuel Wesley was most distressingly embarrassed; but his embarrassments
were not the results of wasteful or extravagant living. For about eleven
years he had been a married minister of the Church of England. His
professional income, for that entire period—after deducting the payments
mentioned in the foregoing letter, for furniture, the Broad Seal, his
first-fruits, his tenths and other taxes, the poor, his mother’s debt,
and also including the £50 borrowed for farming purposes—did not amount
to more than £600, which gives an average of £54, 10s. a-year, or twenty
shillings and ninepence per week. Out of that amount of money, he had to
maintain house, to find food and clothes for himself and for his wife;
he had to meet the expenses connected with the birth of ten children,
and the burial of five; and he had now a family to support, consisting
of himself, his wife, five children, a maid-servant, and a parish
apprentice-nine persons altogether. Samuel Wesley, after eleven years of
hard struggling, was £300 in debt. No wonder! Let the reader look at the
preceding figures and facts, and his surprise will be, not that the debt
was so great, but that it was not greater. Many Methodists have a vague
idea that the rector of Epworth was careless and improvident in the
management of his pecuniary matters, and that this was the cause of his
embarrassments; but to entertain such a thought is a cruel injustice
done to the character of that distinguished man, and also an undeserved
stigma cast upon the reputation of his invaluable wife. Let any one
think of a clergyman of the Church of England having to maintain a
large, and often an afflicted family, for eleven years, at the rate of
two shillings and elevenpence-halfpenny per day, and we challenge him to
deny that Samuel Wesley, now £300 in debt, was deserving not of censure,
but of sympathy.

Archbishop Sharpe, to whom Wesley’s letter was addressed, was an
exceedingly kind and faithful friend. He submitted the painful
circumstances of the poor rector to a number of his noble friends, some
of whom generously responded, the Countess of Northampton sending him
£20. The archbishop also wished to make an application to the House of
Lords for what was technically called a “Brief;” in other words, a
“letter patent, granting a licence for collecting money to rebuild
churches, to restore loss by fire,” &c. These “briefs,” or letters
patent were read in churches, and the sums collected were endorsed on
them, with the signatures of the minister and churchwarden; after which
the briefs and the money collected were delivered to the person or
persons obtaining the briefs, who in their turn had to give an account,
within two months, of the moneys received, before a master in Chancery
appointed by the Lord Chancellor.

The proposal, then, of the Archbishop of York was, to obtain from
Parliament one of these letters patent, authorising and commanding
collections to be made in certain churches, for the purpose of relieving
the distresses of the rector of Epworth. The feeling which prompted this
was unquestionably kind, but perhaps it was scarce considerate. To a
high-minded and sensitive man like Samuel Wesley, it could not be
otherwise than disagreeable to have his domestic troubles and financial
embarrassments paraded, first before Parliament, and afterwards in
parish churches, for the purpose of obtaining collections to pay some
£300 of debt, and perhaps to furnish a trifling surplus to repair
Epworth parsonage, and to improve Epworth parish church. At the present
day, such a mode of raising money for such purposes would be universally
denounced; and in the case of Samuel Wesley, one hundred and sixty-five
years ago, such a plan ought never to have been propounded. It was
doubtless a duty to assist the impoverished parson, but the assistance
ought to have been, not public, but private. Dr Clarke asserts that the
archbishop actually applied to the Upper House of Parliament for such a
brief. Be that as it may, we find Samuel Wesley disapproving of the
proposal in the following letter, which was written four months and a
half after his former one:—

                                           “EPWORTH, _May 14, 1701_.

  “MY LORD,—In the first place, I do, as I am bound, heartily thank God
  for raising me so great and generous a benefactor as your Grace, when
  I so little expected or deserved it.

  “And then, to return my poor thanks to your lordship, though but a
  sorry acknowledgment, yet all I have, for the pains and trouble you
  have taken on my account. I most humbly thank your Grace that you did
  not close with the motion which you mentioned in your Grace’s first
  letter; for I should rather chose to remain all my life in my present
  circumstances, than so much as consent that your lordship should do
  any such thing. Nor, indeed, should I be willing on my own account to
  trouble the House of Lords in the method proposed, for I believe
  _mine_ would be the first instance of a brief _for losses by
  child-bearing_ that ever came before that honourable house.

  “Had your Grace been able to have effected nothing for me, the
  generosity and goodness had been the same; and I should have prayed
  for as great a heap of blessings on your Grace and your family. This
  is all I can do now, when I have such considerable assistance by your
  Grace’s charitable endeavours. When I received your Grace’s first
  letter, I thanked God upon my knees for it. I have done the same, I
  believe, twenty times since, as often as I have read it; and more than
  once for the other, which I received but yesterday.

  “Certainly, never did an archbishop of England write in such a manner
  to an isle poet; but it is peculiar to your Grace to oblige so as none
  besides can do it. I know your Grace will be angry, but I cannot help
  it; truth will out, though in a plain and rough dress; and I should
  sin against God if I now neglected to make all the poor
  acknowledgments I am able.”

He then proceeds to mention the great kindness of the Countess of
Northampton, and says he must divide what she has given him,—“half to my
poor mother, with whom I am now above a year behindhand; the other £10
for my own family. My mother will wait on your Grace for her £10: she
knows not the particulars of my circumstances, which I keep from her as
much as I can, that they may not trouble her.”

Very beautiful are sentiments like these; and great must have been the
anguish of that sensitive and noble heart that had to struggle with such
adversities.

Four days after the foregoing letter was written, it was followed by
another and shorter one, strikingly characteristic of the playfulness as
well as gratitude of the writer’s nature:—

                                           “EPWORTH, _May 18, 1701_.

  “MY LORD,—This comes as a rider to the last, by the same post, to
  bring such news as, I presume, will not be unwelcome to a person who
  has so particular a concern for me. Last night my wife brought me a
  _few_ children. There are but _two_ yet, a boy and a girl, and I think
  they are all at present. We have had four in two years and a day,
  three of which are living.

  “Never came anything more like a gift from Heaven than what the
  Countess of Northampton sent by your lordship’s charitable offices.
  Wednesday evening my wife and I clubbed and joined stocks, which came
  but to _six shillings_, to send for coals. Thursday morning I received
  the £10; and at night my wife was delivered. Glory be to God for His
  unspeakable goodness!—I am, your Grace’s most obliged, and most humble
  servant,

                                                        “S. WESLEY.”

Archbishop Sharpe, to whom these three letters were addressed, was born
at Bradford, Yorkshire, in 1644. He was educated at Christ College,
Cambridge, and for five years was private tutor to the four sons of Sir
Heneage Finch, who afterwards became Lord Chancellor. In 1677, Sharpe
became rector of St Giles’s, and had among his parishioners the
celebrated Richard Baxter, who was a constant hearer of the rector every
Sunday morning, and was consulted about his marriage. These two
excellent men, notwithstanding their minor differences, lived together
on the most friendly terms. In 1681, Sharpe was promoted to the deanery
of Norwich. On the accession of King James, he preached so much against
Popery, that he excited the royal displeasure, was obliged to leave St
Giles’s, and to reside altogether at his deanery. In 1689, he succeeded
Tillotson as Dean of Canterbury, and was nominated one of the
commissioners for revising the liturgy. In 1691, he was consecrated
Archbishop of York, and discharged the duties of his high office with
great fidelity until his death, which occurred at Bath in 1714. He
preached repeatedly before King William and Queen Mary. Some of these
sermons are now before us, and display great ability and earnest piety.
He delivered the sermon preached at the coronation of Queen Anne. His
favourite studies, in his youthful days, were botany and chemistry. He
was chaplain to King Charles and to King James. He was greatly esteemed
by King William, and, in the reign of Queen Anne, the greatest attention
was always paid to his advices. Dr Sharpe, says Bishop Burnet, was a
very pious man, and one of the most popular preachers of the age. Sharpe
left behind him seven volumes of sermons.[149] He was the grandfather of
the celebrated Granville Sharpe, the distinguished philanthropist and
the friend of slaves. A remarkable anecdote of the archbishop was
inserted by John Wesley in the _Arminian Magazine_ for 1785.

-----

Footnote 149:

  Newcombe’s _Life of Sharpe_.

-----

In the midst of all his pecuniary struggles, Samuel Wesley continued to
write and to publish books. In 1700, he issued a small volume, entitled,
“The Pious Communicant Rightly Prepared; or, A Discourse concerning the
Blessed Sacrament: wherein the nature of it is described, our obligation
to frequent communion enforced, and directions given for due preparation
for it, behaviour at and after it, and profiting by it. With Prayers and
Hymns suited to the several parts of that Holy Office. To which is
added, A Short Discourse of Baptism. By Samuel Wesley, A.M., Chaplain to
the Most Honourable John, Lord Marquis of Normanby, and Rector of
Epworth, in the diocese of Lincoln. London: Printed for Charles Harper.
1700.”

This long title almost renders a description of the book unnecessary.
The book, however, besides what is described in the title-page, contains
as an appendix the “Letter concerning the Religious Societies,” from
which quotations have been already made, and altogether consists of two
hundred and ninety-three pages 12mo. A few extracts may be useful, as
illustrating the writer’s opinions, and his mode of expressing them.

Speaking of the doctrine of transubstantiation, he says:—“It overthrows
the very nature of a sacrament, and leaves nothing for an outward sign;
it introduces the most monstrous absurdities, which, if granted, would
render the Christian religion the most absurd and most unreasonable in
the world; it involves the most horrid, as well as most ridiculous
consequences, such as that our Saviour did eat His own body, and gave it
to His disciples to eat; it makes Christians the worst cannibals to eat
their God a thousand times over; and it contradicts the very nature of a
body, which cannot be in two places at the same time, much less in earth
and in heaven,” (p. 19 and 20.)

On the subject of baptism, he writes:—“In baptism, we are so far
regenerate as to be grafted into the body of Christ’s Church, and to
partake of its privileges by the operation of His Holy Spirit within us,
who will never be wanting to us or forsake us, unless we ourselves put a
bar to the divine assistance by confirmed evil habits, and by a wicked
life. But since the divine image, which we there recovered, is very
often obscured again by the temptations of the world and the devil, and
the remains of sin within us, there is need enough for our being renewed
again by repentance; nor has God here left us without hope or comfort,
but has appointed a remedy even for those who sin after baptism, and
that is this other sacrament of the body and blood of the Lord, wherein
we renew our covenant with Him, and receive new strength to obey His
commands,” (p. 37.)

In another place he writes:—“We say not that regeneration is always
_completed_ in baptism, but that it is begun in it; a principle of grace
is infused, which we lost by the fall, which shall never be wholly
withdrawn, unless we quench God’s Holy Spirit by obstinate habits of
wickedness. There are _babes_ as well as _strong men_ in Christ,” (p.
205.)

The same view of baptism was substantially held by his son John. The
latter, in his sermon on the New Birth, observes:—“It is certain our
Church supposes that all who are baptized in their infancy are, at the
same time, born again; and it is allowed that the whole office for the
baptism of infants proceeds upon this supposition. Nor is it an
objection of any weight against this, that we cannot comprehend how this
work can be wrought in infants. For neither can we comprehend how it is
wrought in a person of riper years.”[150]

-----

Footnote 150:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. vi. p. 69.

-----

It is no part of our task either to justify or condemn these opinions;
but, perhaps, the following extract from an article, probably written by
Samuel Wesley, and inserted in the _Athenian Oracle_, (vol. i., p. 457,)
may with some find more favour, though there is nothing in it
antagonistic to the other opinions of Samuel Wesley already given.

“Baptism is called by the apostle ‘the laver of regeneration,’ and
accordingly our Church, not only lawfully, but commendably, uses the
word regeneration for baptism; and, in the offices for that sacrament,
more than once mentions the child’s being regenerate, which it explains
by its being grafted into the body of Christ’s Church, and so admitted
into the communion of saints. Children have then a federal holiness as
children of believing parents; and, as the first-born among the Jews
were dedicate, devoted, or holy in the Lord, so in that sense children
of believing parents are holy—in that sense they are regenerate.”

It is a remarkable fact, not generally known, that John Wesley’s
“Treatise on Baptism,” published in the tenth volume of his collected
works, and dated November 11, 1756, is nothing less or more than his
father’s “Short Discourse of Baptism,” published fifty-six years before.
It is true that the son has very _slightly_ abridged and verbally
altered his father’s essay, but that is all. He thus makes all the
opinions of his father, on baptism, his own; but it is somewhat strange
that he should republish the treatise without the least reference to its
original author. It is hardly fair that the treatise should be published
as his own. In more respects than one, John Wesley was a courageous man.

In the same year in which Samuel Wesley published his “Pious
Communicant,” he also gave to the public a poem, entitled, “An Epistle
to a Friend concerning Poetry, by Samuel Wesley. London: Printed for
Charles Harper, 1700.” The poem is a folio of thirty pages, and consists
of 1083 lines.

The preface is an earnest—almost furious—production, stating his design,
and dwelling on the strong tendency to infidel principles evinced by
some of the chief literary men then living. He writes:—“The direct
design of a great part of this poem is to serve the cause of religion
and virtue. My quarrel is with those that rank themselves among
atheists, and impudently defend and propagate the ridiculous opinion of
the eternity of the world, and of that fatal, invincible chain of things
which is now made use of to destroy the faith, as our lewd plays are to
corrupt the morals, of the nation;—an opinion big with more absurdities
than transubstantiation itself, and of far more fatal consequences.
Besides weakening, if not destroying, the belief of the being and
providence of God, it utterly takes away freedom in human actions,
reduces mankind beneath the brute creation, perfectly excuses the
greatest villainies, and entirely vacates all retribution hereafter. One
would wonder with what face or conscience such a set of men should hope
to be treated by the rules of civility, when they themselves break
through those of common humanity. How can they expect any fairer quarter
than wolves or tigers; or, what reason can they give why a price should
not be set upon their heads as well as on the others; or, at least, why
they should not be securely hampered and muzzled, and led about for a
sight like other monsters? It is the fatal and spreading poison of these
men’s principles and example which has extorted these warm expressions
from me. I cannot with patience see my country ruined by the prodigious
increase of infidelity and immorality, nor forbear crying out, with some
vehemence, when it is in greater and more imminent danger than it would
have been formerly if the Spanish Armada had made a descent among us. If
things go on as they now are, we are in a fair way to become a nation of
atheists. It is now no difficult matter to meet with those who pretend
to be lewd on principle. They attack religion in form, and batter it
from every quarter; they would turn the very Scriptures against
themselves, and labour hard to remove a Supreme Being out of the world;
or, if they do vouchsafe Him any room in it, it is only that they may
find fault with His works, which they think, with that blasphemer of
old, might have been much better ordered had they themselves stood by
and directed the architect.

“What would these men have? Why cannot they be content to sink single
into the bottomless pit without dragging so much company with them? Can
they grapple with Omnipotence? Can they thunder with a voice like God,
and cast abroad the rage of their wrath? Could they annihilate hell they
might be tolerably happy, more quietly rake through the world, and sink
into nothing.

“There is too great reason to apprehend that this infection is spread
among persons of almost all ranks, though some may think it decent still
to keep on a religious masque. This is hypocrisy with a witness, the
basest and meanest of vices. The cowards will not believe a God, because
they dare not; for woe be to them if there be one, and consequently any
future punishment! From such as these I desire no favour, but that of
their ill word; as their crimes must expect none from me. If I could be
ambitious of a name in the world, it should be that I might sacrifice it
in so glorious a cause as that of religion and virtue. If none but
generals must fight in this sacred war, when there are such infernal
hosts on the other side, they could never prevail without one of the
ancient miracles. If little people can but discharge the place of a
private sentinel, it is all that is expected from us. I hope I shall
never let the enemies of God and my country come on without firing,
though it serve but to give the alarm; and, if I die without quitting my
post, I desire no greater glory. I have no personal pique against any
whose characters I may have given in this poem, nor think the worse of
them for their thoughts of me. I hope I have everywhere done them
justice, and have given them commendation where they merit it.”

This is strong language respecting the chief writers of the day; but it
was not unneeded. It is true, that, there were honourable
exceptions—such as Addison, who was now enjoying his pension of £300 a
year for his complimentary poem on one of the campaigns of King William;
Sir Richard Steele, who was writing his “Christian Hero;” Dean Swift,
who, having published his poetical essays, was now pondering his “Tale
of a Tub;” Pope, who, as a boy twelve years old, was writing, in Windsor
Forest, his “Ode on Solitude;” Parnell, who was just made M.A., and
ordained a deacon; and Edward Young, who was now completing the first
part of his education at Winchester. Of these and others we say nothing;
but contemporaneous with them were William Wycherley, who attacked vice,
it is true, but attacked it with the severity of a cynic, and the
language of a libertine; Matthew Prior, who, notwithstanding his poetic
fame, cohabited with a despicable drab of the lowest kind; William
Congreve, “the ultimate effect of whose plays,” says Dr Johnson, “is to
represent pleasure in alliance with vice, and to relax those obligations
by which life ought to be regulated;” Lord Bolingbroke, whom Johnson
designated “a scoundrel, who charged a pop-gun against Christianity; and
a coward, who left half-a-crown to a beggarly Scotchman (David Mallet)
to fire it off;” Anthony Collins, the infidel, who, notwithstanding his
abilities as a writer, was detected in so many instances of false
quotations, and other unfair modes of controversy, that he must ever be
regarded as one of the most flagrant instances of literary
disingenuousness; Matthew Tindall, some of whose infidel productions
were, by a vote of the House of Commons, ordered to be burned by the
common hangman; John Toland, the “miserable sophist,” as Swift calls
him, whose sceptical writings were ordered to be burned by the Irish
Parliament, and who discussed the mysteries of Christianity in
coffee-houses and other public places, until at last he wanted a meal of
meat, and fell to borrowing a few pence from any one that would lend to
him; and John Dryden, with his sometimes Popish, and sometimes
latitudinarian creed—a man of splendid talents, but whose writings,
while flashing with the highest genius, are often soaked and loathsome
with the foulest vice.

Macaulay, in reference to a period a few years earlier, writes:—“The
profligacy of the English plays, satires, songs, and novels of that age
is a deep blot on our national fame. The evil may easily be traced to
its source. The wits and the Puritans had never been on friendly terms.
From the Reformation to the civil war, almost every writer had taken
some opportunity of assailing the straight-haired, snuffling, whining
saints, who christened their children out of the Book of Nehemiah, who
groaned in the spirit at the sight of Jack in the Green, and who thought
it impious to taste plum-porridge on Christmas-day. At length a time
came when the laughers began to look grave in their turn. The rigid,
ungainly zealots, after having furnished much good sport during two
generations, rose up in arms, conquered, ruled, and, grimly smiling,
trod down under their feet the whole crowd of mockers. At the
Restoration the old fight recommenced, and the war between wit and
Puritanism soon became a war between wit and morality. Whatever the
canting Roundhead had regarded with reverence was insulted; whatever he
had proscribed, was favoured. As he never opened his mouth except in
Scriptural phrase, the new breed of wits and fine gentlemen never opened
theirs without uttering ribaldry of which a porter would now be ashamed.
It is not strange, therefore, that our polite literature, when it
revived with the old civil and ecclesiastical polity, should have been
profoundly immoral. A few eminent men, who belonged to an earlier and
better age, were exempt from the general contagion. The verse of Waller
still breathed the sentiments which had animated a more chivalrous
generation. Cowley, distinguished as a loyalist and as a man of letters,
raised his voice courageously against the immorality which disgraced
both letters and loyalty. A mightier poet, tried at once by pain,
danger, poverty, obloquy, and blindness, meditated, undisturbed by the
obscene tumult which raged all around him, a song so sublime and so holy
that it would not have misbecome the lips of those etherial virtues whom
he saw, with that inner eye which no calamity could darken, flinging
down on the jasper pavement their crowns of amaranth and gold. But these
were men whose minds had been trained in a world which had passed away.
They gave place to a younger generation of wits; and of that generation,
from Dryden down to D’Urfey, the common characteristic was hard-hearted,
shameless, swaggering licentiousness, at once inelegant and inhuman.”

Samuel Wesley’s “Epistle concerning Poetry” is ingenious and able. The
editor of Dr Adam Clarke’s Miscellaneous Works observes: “Such a poem as
this may be supposed to have suggested Lord Byron’s ‘English Bards and
Scotch Reviewers.’” We would add, that perhaps it suggested a much
earlier work, the “Dunciad” of Alexander Pope, which was first published
in 1727, twenty-seven years after the publication of Wesley’s “Epistle.”
At all events, both Pope and Byron would have acted better if, like
Samuel Wesley, they had been guided by justice, instead of being goaded
by spleen, and if their works, like his, had contained more of criticism
and less of spite.

It is difficult, without giving extracts, to furnish a just idea of Mr
Wesley’s poem. The following are some of the topics that are taken up
and sketched—viz., Genius, Wit, Judgment, Invention, Memory, Learning,
Conversation, Style, Reading, Measure, Numbers, Pauses, Quantity, Rhyme,
Epic poetry, Tragedy, the Ode, and Satire. In dwelling on these points,
Wesley takes the opportunity of referring to the most popular writers of
poetry to illustrate his meaning. Chaucer’s lines are so rough and so
unequal in their flow, that to describe their _measure_ is impossible.
Spencer, with his “vast genius” and “noble thoughts,” is a master of
English _quantity_; but his stanzas are cramped, and his _rhymes_
affected by antique words. Dryden, with his “matchless skill,” is highly
praised; but, at the same time, Wesley charges him with having “made
vice pleasing, and damnation shine;” and entreats him, after “sixty
years of lewdness,” to repent and seek God’s forgiveness. Blackmore is
eulogised by Wesley, at the time when all the wits were treating him
with ridicule; for few excelled him in writing poetic fables, and each
of his pages is “big with Virgil’s manly thought.” But, instead of
giving quotations descriptive of men, we give the following, which, to
say the least, is thoughtful and ingenious. The reader will perceive
that the lines are intended to be a description of the human head:—

           “A cave there is, wherein those nymphs reside,
           Who all the realms of sense and fancy guide;
           Nay, some affirm, that in the deepest cell
           Imperial Reason’s self does not disdain to dwell.
           With living reed it’s thatch’d and guarded round,
           Which, moved by winds, emit a silver sound.
           Two crystal fountains near its entrance play,
           Wide scattering golden beams, which ne’er decay;
           Two labyrinths behind, harmonious sounds convey.
           Chiefly, within, the room of state is famed,
           Of rich Mosaic work divinely framed;
           Of small extent to view, ’twill all things hide;
           Heaven’s azure arch itself not half so wide.
           Here all the arts their sacred mansion choose,
           Here dwells the mother of the heaven-born muse,
           With wondrous mystic figures round ’tis wrought,
           Inlaid with fancy and anneal’d with thought.
           What was, or is, or labours yet to be,
           Within the womb of dark futurity,
           May stowage in this wondrous storehouse find,
           Yet leave unnumber’d empty cells behind.
           Whate’er within this sacred hall you find,
           Let judgment sort, and skilful method bind;
           And as from these you draw your ancient store,
           Daily supply the magazine with more.”—(Page 3.)

No sooner was the “Epistle concerning Poetry” out of hand, than Samuel
Wesley devoted himself to a much larger poetic work, entitled “The
History of the Old and New Testament, attempted in Verse, and adorned
with three hundred and thirty Sculptures. Written by S. Wesley, A.M.;
the Cuts done by J. Sturt. London: Printed for C. Harper.”

Dr Clarke says the first edition of this work was published in 1701; but
the earliest edition with which the writer is acquainted was published
in 1704, and is in three volumes, of about three hundred and fifty pages
each. Another edition was published in 1717, and was dedicated to “the
Most Honourable the Lady Marchioness of Normanby;”—a lady “ennobled by
birth, beauty, and fortune, but more by piety and virtue.”

In his preface to the reader, he says: “I have but little to say
concerning this small present which I here make thee. It is some account
of the intervals of my time, which I wish had never been worse employed.
There are some passages here represented which are so barren of
circumstances, that it was not easy to make them shine in verse; though
they could not be well omitted without breaking the thread of the
history. But there are others where I have more liberty, wherein it is
my own fault if I have not succeeded better. On the whole, if aught that
is here may be useful to any good Christian, and tend to promote piety,
I shall be better pleased than if I could have composed a book on any
other subject worthy to be dedicated in the Vatican; for I hope I am got
on the right side of the world, and am as indifferent to it as it can be
to me.”

The engravings, or “Sculptures,” as the rector calls them, are small,
but full of genius. John Sturt, the artist, was born in 1658, and died
in 1730. He is celebrated principally for the extraordinary minuteness
and beauty of his engraved writing. He engraved the Lord’s Prayer in the
compass of a silver penny, and an Elegy on Queen Mary in so small a size
that it might be set in a ring or locket. His most curious work,
however, is the “Book of Common Prayer,” which he engraved with
marvellous neatness on one hundred and eighty-eight silver plates, in
double columns. Prefixed is a portrait of King George I., the lines on
the king’s face being made by an inscription of the Lord’s Prayer, the
Decalogue, the Creed, the Prayers for the Royal Family, and the 21st
Psalm, all in writing so minute as scarcely to be read with the aid of a
microscope. This remarkable work was published by subscription in 1717;
and about the same time another of his productions was similarly issued,
“A Companion to the Altar,” executed in the same ingenious manner. The
poor artist, like the poor rector, was beset with poverty all his days.
In his old age, he was offered an asylum in the Charter-House, but
respectfully declined accepting it. Such was the man who engraved the
“three hundred and thirty sculptures” which adorn and illustrate Samuel
Wesley’s “History of the Old and New Testaments.”

This work of Wesley, like his Life of Christ, is permanently injured by
the hastiness in which it was evidently written, and by the unfinished
state of many of its lines; but, at the same time, it contains scores of
passages worthy of Wesley’s great genius. To enable the reader to form
an opinion of the book’s excellencies and faults, we subjoin a few
random extracts, taking four from the Old Testament and four from the
New.

After describing Moses and his flock at Horeb, Wesley writes:—

       “As he the sylvan scene with pleasure views,
       By gentle motion dress’d in various hues,
       A hollow wind comes whispering through the leaves;
       The solid rock with dire convulsions cleaves;
       The largest bush, and fairer than the rest,
       He saw in harmless flames, and lambent lightnings dress’d.
       Though strange, though wondrous strange the sight appear,
       He to the burning bush approaches near;
       When from the flames a voice like thunder broke,
       And Moses in these awful words bespoke:
         ‘Thy sandals quickly loose, bold mortal, and retire;
         This place is holy ground, and God is in the fire!’”

The lines following refer to the giving of the ten commandments:—

     “Hark! how insufferable thunders tear
     Both earth and heaven! while forky lightnings glare!
     Trembles the camp; the solid mountain shakes;
     The earth, beneath it, to the centre quakes—
     The Lord descends, the Thunderer’s voice is known!
     And holy myriads stand around his throne.
     The ten dread words from Sinai he recites,
     Which his own hands in marble tables writes;
     Great Nature’s transcript, and eternal law,
     Whence future sages shall their models draw;
     Wise Greece and haughty Rome are here surpass’d,
     Each word, each tittle here, shall earth and heaven outlast.”

The next extract is taken from the piece describing the pestilence,
which was sent on account of David numbering the people. David having
laid aside his crown, clothes himself in sackcloth, puts ashes on his
head, falls prostrate on the ground and begins to pray:—

            “Mild Pity heard, and prostrate at the throne
            Presents his prayers, and added of her own;
            The Father smiles and grants; she shoots away
            Beyond the confines of eternal day;
            On her own peaceful rainbow swerving down,
            She stands confess’d above the sacred town;
            Seizes the destroying angel’s flaming brand,
            Seals in its sheath, and stops his lifted hand.”

The next lines are descriptive of the angel destroying the one hundred
and eighty-five thousand Assyrians:—

          “Lo! from heaven the avenging angel came,
          His sword the pestilence’s deadly flame;
          Incumbent o’er the deadly camp he flies;
          So glares an angry comet in the skies.
          A vial of almighty wrath he bore,
          And, crashing, broke, like burst of thunder’s roar—
          Oh, what a groan! as Nature’s self expired,
          Or all this habitable mansion fired—
          Awaked by dying shrieks the warriors rose,
          And all in vain their spacious shields oppose:
          Some swear, some pray, but both alike in vain,
          And heaps of myriads lie on myriads slain.
          Averse at length, and slow the morning rose,
          But what a scene its sickly beams disclose!
          ’Twas horror, horror all—the plague was kind—
          Paler than death were those it left behind.”

The following is Wesley’s description of Christ rebuking the tempest on
the Lake of Gennesaret:—

            “He rose unmoved, for all within was peace,
            Chid the mad waves, and bid their tumults cease;
            Rebuked the winds, which soon forgot to roar,
            And all the murm’ring billows kiss’d the shore.”

The piece entitled “Jesus in the Manger visited by the Shepherds,” is as
follows:—

       “With joy and wonder fill’d, the shepherds run
       At early dawn, to seek a brighter sun
       Than e’er before enlighten’d mortal eyes;
       But oh! astonish’d heavens! see where He lies!
       That voice, which shakes the poles, to infant cries
       Is now contracted;—those Almighty hands
       Which launch th’ unerring thunder, wrapt in feeble bands;
       And He, who turn’d the shining orbs above,
       Which, as His nod prescribes ’em, stand or move;
       When He comes down our ruin’d world to save,
       Is shelter’d in a stable, and a cave.”

The following is from a piece entitled, “Signs of the Coming of the Son
of man in Glory:”—

      “Rumours of war the guilty world affright;
      Prodigious signs, and many a fearful sight
      Glare in the heavens; bright suns to darkness turn,
      And moons and stars, all clothed in sackcloth, mourn—
      Well may the earth with horrid murmurs quake,
      When even the powers of Heaven themselves shall shake.
      With fervent heat the elements shall flow,
      Yon azure vault with ruddy vengeance glow;
      Then when the guilty world dissolves for fear,
      Then shall you see the Son of Man appear;
      Amidst the clouds, the world’s great Judge confess’d,
      Circled with glitt’ring hosts, and myriads of the bless’d.”

We conclude with an extract from the last poem in the book, “The
Description of the Heavenly Jerusalem:”—

          “Of pearls those everlasting gates are made,
          Of precious stones the firm foundation’s laid;
          The walls of jasper, wondrous to behold,
          The city flames with pure ethereal gold;
          Through its broad streets a lovely river glides,
          It in the midst, with crystal streams, divides
          No solar lamp, or moon’s officious ray,
          No twinkling stars to make a fainter day;
          No useless flambeau there, but from the throne
          A radiant blaze of light profusely shone.
          Here pious souls shall blissful seats obtain,
          With God, and with the Lamb, to endless ages reign.”

These extracts are given, first, because the book itself is extremely
scarce, and not one Methodist in a thousand has ever seen it; and,
secondly, as a sort of rebuke to the slap-dash and too sweeping censure
pronounced against it in Nicholl’s Literary Anecdotes, namely, that it
is “mere pap, or milk and water.” Those three volumes are not the best
that Mr Wesley published; but they are better far than scores of similar
productions that have had the good fortune to be read, and therefore to
be praised.

To say the least, every one must admire the unwearied diligence of this
impoverished man. He had a large and increasing family, and was £300 in
debt; but, instead of sinking under discouragement, he bravely breasts
his trials, and, by eagerly seizing those scraps of time which devotion
to his clerical duties did not require, he tried to free himself from
his distressing embarrassments by writing and publishing, within two
short years, four good-sized volumes, besides his “Epistle on Poetry,”
consisting of nearly eleven hundred lines.




                             CHAPTER XIII.
                         CONVOCATION—1701, ETC.


On three several occasions, Samuel Wesley was elected proctor or
convocation man for the diocese of Lincoln. The first of these elections
took place in 1701; a second in 1711; the date of the third is doubtful.
These three attendances at convocation brought upon him an expenditure
of £150, which he could ill afford to bear.

Convocation is an assembly of the clergy of the Church of England by
their representatives. It is always held during the session of
parliament, and consists of an upper and of a lower house. In the upper
house sit the bishops; in the lower the inferior clergy, represented by
their proctors and others. The lower house, of which Mr Wesley was a
member, consists of twenty-two deans, fifty-three archdeacons,
twenty-four prebendaries, and forty-four proctors, (being two proctors
for the clergy of each diocese;) altogether one hundred and forty-three
persons. The prolocutor or speaker of the lower house is always chosen
by itself. His duty is to take care that the members of the house attend
its sittings, to collect their debates and votes, and to convey to the
upper house the resolutions which they pass. Convocation is always
called together by the royal writ, directed to the archbishop of each
province, requiring him to summon all bishops, deans, archdeacons, and
others qualified or entitled to sit therein. Up to the year 1605, it was
the privilege of convocation to fix the taxes which should be paid by
the clergy; but, at that time, this privilege was surrendered to the
House of Commons, on the condition that henceforth, and in lieu of it,
the clergy should be allowed to vote at elections of members of
parliament, a right of which heretofore they had been deprived. The
power of convocation is limited. Its members are not to make any canons
or ecclesiastical laws without the royal licence; nor, even when the
royal licence is granted, can any newly-made laws or canons be put in
force except under certain restrictions. They have the power to examine
and to censure all heretical and schismatical books; but the authors of
such books have an appeal to the king in chancery or to his delegates.
It ought also to be added, that members of convocation have the same
privileges allowed as belong to members of parliament.

Such, then, was the ecclesiastical parliament of which Samuel Wesley was
elected a member, by his brother clergymen, in the diocese of Lincoln,
in 1701. The honour was distinguished, though, to a poor man like
himself, seriously expensive. Some writers have not been sparing in the
censures they have thought proper to pronounce on Wesley for spending so
much money on convocation attendance, which, as is alleged, might have
been much better spent in the payment of his debts, or in providing for
the wants of his wife and children. Such censures are soon uttered, but
are scarcely merited. The convocation, which was called together in
1701, was one of unusual importance, and it behoved the clergy of the
diocese of Lincoln to send as their proctor the most fitting man that
the diocese contained; and that man, being elected, was bound by every
principle of duty and of honour to take upon himself the onerous
responsibility of representing the gentlemen who had thus distinguished
him. The expenses of the office might be inconvenient, yet to be
selected as a fitting representative to the most august and important
ecclesiastical assembly in the land, was an honour not to be despised.
Many a minister struggling with poverty would have readily made as great
a sacrifice to have attained as high a dignity, especially if its
attainment was likely to be the stepping-stone to yet higher
ecclesiastical power and benefit. Samuel Wesley’s talents, learning,
piety, and literary works were sufficient to justify him in aspiring
after the higher, if not highest offices that the Church has to give;
and it is not improbable that had it not been for his pecuniary
embarrassments, and his cruel imprisonment in Lincoln gaol, he would
have died, not the rector of an almost unknown country parish, but in
one of the most distinguished positions to which a clergyman of the
Church of England can be exalted. Apart from a sense of the honour which
his brethren had bestowed upon him, and apart from his readiness to
undertake difficult and expensive duties, it is no disparagement of
Samuel Wesley’s unblemished character to say, that perhaps he had some
hope of such promotion when he consented, at such an inconvenient
sacrifice, to go as proctor to the house of convocation. Considering his
talents, attainments, and labours, such ambition was neither mercenary
nor inordinate. The clergy of the diocese of Lincoln conferred an honour
upon the Epworth rector in thus electing him; but the honour was
merited, and it would have been not only an act of kindness, but an act
of justice, if those who gave the honour had also given the money which
it cost to wear it.

A remarkable anecdote is related in connexion with Mr Wesley’s first
attendance at convocation. Dr A. Clarke, who gives it, says he had it
from the lips of Mr Wesley’s son John. The statement is as follows:—

“Were I,” said John Wesley, “to write my own life, I should begin it
before I was born, merely for the purpose of mentioning a disagreement
between my father and mother. ‘Sukey,’ said my father to my mother one
day after family prayer, ‘why did you not say _amen_ this morning to the
prayer for the king?’ ‘Because,’ said she, ‘I do not believe the Prince
of Orange to be king.’ ‘If that be the case,’ said he, ‘you and I must
part; for if we have two kings, we must have two beds.’ My mother was
inflexible. My father went immediately to his study; and, after spending
some time with himself, set out for London, where, being _convocation
man_ for the diocese of Lincoln, he remained without visiting his own
house for the remainder of the year. On March 8th, in the following
year, 1702, King William died; and as both my father and mother were
agreed as to the legitimacy of Queen Anne’s title, the cause of their
misunderstanding ceased. My father returned to Epworth, and conjugal
harmony was restored.”[151]

-----

Footnote 151:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Mr Wesley’s own written account of this affair is the following:—“The
year before King William died, my father observed my mother did not say
amen to the prayer for the king. She said she could not, for she did not
believe the Prince of Orange was king. He vowed he would never cohabit
with her till she did. He then took his horse and rode away; nor did she
hear anything of him for a twelvemonth. He then came back and lived with
her as before. But I fear his vow was not forgotten before God.”[152]

-----

Footnote 152:

  _Methodist Mag._, 1784, p. 606.

-----

There may be the merest modicum of truth in this strange story; but the
greater part of it is unfounded.

We grant that Mrs Wesley held the doctrine of the “divine right of
kings;” and holding that, of course, she regarded the Revolution of 1688
as a royal wrong, and considered William of Orange a usurper. Of this
there can be no doubt. Writing in the year 1709, she says:—“Whether they
did well, in driving a prince from his hereditary throne, I leave to
their own consciences to determine; though I cannot tell how to think
that a king of England can ever be accountable to his subjects for any
maladministrations or abuse of power; but as he derives his power from
God, so to Him only he must answer for his using it. But still I make a
great difference between those who entered into the confederacy against
their prince, and those who, knowing nothing of the contrivance, and so
consequently not consenting to it, only submitted to the present
government. But whether the praying for a usurper, and vindicating his
usurpations after he has the throne, be not participating in his sins,
is easily determined.”[153]

-----

Footnote 153:

  Kirk’s _Mother of the Wesleys_.

-----

With such language before us, there can be no question that the opinions
of Mrs Wesley concerning King William and his predecessor King James
were widely different from those which her husband held; and it may be
easily imagined that such a difference of opinion might lead to
occasional unpleasantness. No one doubts the truthfulness of the story
up to a certain point; namely, that Mrs Wesley, on a certain morning in
1701, at family prayer, omitted to say _amen_ to the prayer for King
William; that her husband took her to task for this omission; that sharp
words ensued; and that he immediately set out for London. The one
damaging point which we deny is, that Samuel Wesley allowed a miserable
squabble respecting the rights of King William to make him neglect his
wife, and to leave his house, his family, and his flock for the space of
twelve months; a thing which, if true, would have been a scandalous,
cruel, and wicked act, Fortunately there is ample evidence to refute
such a disgraceful fiction.

We maintain, in the first place, that the story is highly improbable.
Samuel and Susannah Wesley became husband and wife about the time of
William and Mary’s accession. Something like a dozen years had elapsed
since then. Every Sunday, and in fact, every day, Samuel Wesley had been
accustomed to pray for King William. His wife knew this, and yet all the
time they had lived in love and harmony. Up to this period, there is not
the slightest evidence that any unpleasantness had sprung out of such a
matter. Susannah Wesley loved her husband, and her husband loved her.
“Reverence and love your mother,” wrote her husband to their son Samuel.
“Though I should be jealous of any other rival in your breast, yet I
will not be of her. The more duty you pay her, and the more frequently
and kindly you write to her, the more you will please your affectionate
father.” With such affection subsisting between them, is it likely that
a man of the high character of Samuel Wesley would permit a paltry
quarrel about King William to lead to such a lengthened connubial
separation, involving not only a cruel neglect of his wife and family,
but a criminal absence from his flock, and a public disgrace cast upon
his hitherto spotless reputation? Those who can and do believe a legend
so unlikely, have more faith than is desirable.

But, in the second place, we further maintain, that the disgraceful part
of this story is not only improbable, but impossible. It is well known
that convocation was summoned twice during the year 1701. In the first
instance, it met on the 10th of February, and was prorogued on the 24th
of June following. It was convened again on the 31st of December; and,
between nine and ten weeks after, at the death of King William on the
8th of March 1702, it was again prorogued. How then stands the matter in
reference to Samuel Wesley’s long-continued and criminal absence from
his home and from his church? If he attended the convocation which
opened on February 10, _it is not true_ that “he remained without
visiting his own house for the _remainder of the year_;” for, on the
14th and 18th of May of that same year, we find him at Epworth,
attending to his wife with affectionate tenderness, when she was
confined of twins; and writing to Archbishop Sharpe the two letters
inserted in our last chapter. If, again, he attended the convocation
which opened on Dec. 31st, all the time that he was absent from his
family and from his parish was not more than about ten weeks; for, at
the expiration of that time, according to the story itself, “King
William died,” and, convocation being in consequence prorogued, “Wesley
returned to Epworth, and conjugal harmony was restored.”

Let the reader choose which convocation in 1701 he likes, or, as we are
inclined to do, let him entertain the opinion that Samuel Wesley
attended both, yet, still the evidence above recited, most triumphantly
refutes all that is disgraceful in this cock-and-bull story; for we have
proof that, in neither case, was the rector of Epworth away from his
family and charge for a longer period than ten or a dozen weeks.

We submit that in such an absence there was nothing to justify such a
story. At least, an entire week would be spent in mere journeying. Then,
there were the sittings of convocation, which we know were unusually
important and exciting. Then there was the fact that Samuel Wesley was a
literary man, and had already, in London, published a large number of
literary works—a fact giving rise to business transactions, which the
rector would doubtless attend to, now that he was personally present.
And then, finally, there was the fact that his brother Matthew was
resident in London, and probably also his mother, besides a large number
of his early and literary friends, with all of whom, it is natural to
suppose, he would wish to spend as much time as his other duties would
permit. Put all these things together, and what is there to be gaped at
in the rector of Epworth, as “_convocation man_,” being absent from his
family and his church, once, or even twice, at the beginning of the
years 1701 and 1702, for about ten or a dozen weeks? It is far from our
intention to accuse either John Wesley or Adam Clarke of wilful
misrepresentation; in this respect they are both far above suspicion,
but the tale, as first told to John Wesley, was doubtless told in an
exaggerated form; and it is no disrespect to the wonderful memory of
Adam Clarke to say, that during the thirty or more years which elapsed
between the time when John Wesley told the story and the time when Adam
Clarke published it, the remembrance of the latter was not so vivid as
to be infallible.

We begrudge the space which has been filled with this unfortunate
anecdote; but Samuel Wesley is too great and good a man to permit his
character to be injured undeservedly. Let the full truthfulness of the
legend be admitted, and Wesley’s fair fame is branded. Viewed in such a
light, the thing is serious, and deserves some research and trouble in
refuting it. This is the only matter, in the whole of Mr Wesley’s
history, that in the least affects his morality and honour; and, in our
conscience, we believe that everything in the story, which is deserving
of being censured, is unfounded fiction, and utterly unworthy of the
public credence.

Samuel Wesley attended convocation thrice. It is certain that one of
these occasions was in 1701, and it is probable that a second was in the
same year; and hence we give a brief account of the proceedings of both
these ecclesiastical gatherings.

With the exception of the abortive attempt in 1689, convocation, though
regularly assembling with every parliament, had literally done nothing
for the last nine and thirty years. Now, in 1701, it met to transact
business. First of all, on February 10th, those ecclesiastical
legislators assembled in St Paul’s Cathedral, where a sermon was
preached by Dr Haley, Dean of Chichester. The members of the Lower House
then proceeded to the Chapter House, and elected Dr Hooper, Dean of
Canterbury, their prolocutor. “A man of learning,” says Burnet, “of good
conduct, but reserved, crafty, and ambitious.” They then adopted certain
resolutions as a preparation for the battle which they knew was coming.
1. That they had a right to sit whenever parliament sat, and that they
could not be legally prorogued but when parliament was prorogued. 2.
That they had no need of licence to enter upon debates, and to prepare
matters. 3. That as parliament could pass no act without the royal
assent, so convocation could neither enact nor publish a canon without
the royal licence.

This soon brought them into conflict with their brethren of the Upper
House. On February 25th, an order was brought to them, signed by the
archbishop, proroguing both houses in the usual form. At the time, the
Lower House was holding its session in the chapel of Henry VIII., and
the session was continued in defiance of the archbishop’s mandate,
until, after a short debate, they adjourned themselves. Then followed a
private squabble between the archbishop and the prolocutor, respecting
the prerogatives of the two houses. This lasted until the 6th of March,
when the two houses met, and agreed upon the form of an address to the
king, thanking him for his pious regard for the reformed churches in
general, and expressing their determination to maintain the royal
supremacy, and the articles and canons of the Church.

Their next session was a fortnight later, on March 20th, when the
prolocutor of the Lower House brought up a representation of the
“pernicious, dangerous, and scandalous” doctrines contained in Toland’s
“Christianity not Mysterious,” and requested the bishops to agree to
their resolutions, and to censure the book. This was another cause of
jangling. Burnet says:—“This struck directly at Episcopal authority. It
seemed strange to see men who had so long asserted the divine right of
Episcopacy, and that presbyters were only their assistants and council,
now assume to themselves the most important act of church government,
the judging in points of doctrine.”

On March 22d, another book was discussed in the Upper House, entitled,
“Essays on the Balance of Power,” in which it was asserted that persons
had been promoted in the Church who were remarkable for nothing but
enmity to the divinity of Christ.[154] The bishops, therefore, agreed
that a paper should be affixed to the doors of Westminster Abbey,
calling upon the author to make good his assertion, in order that the
parties might be proceeded against, otherwise the passage in question
would be voted a public scandal.

-----

Footnote 154:

  Three years previous to this, Thomas Firmin, a famous citizen of
  London, had died; a man held in high esteem for his charities of all
  sorts, private and public. Firmin, in early life, sat under the
  ministry of John Goodwin, but was afterwards converted to Socinianism
  by John Biddle, already mentioned in this history. Firmin was a man of
  great wealth, and promoted the printing of books against the Trinity,
  and distributed them freely over the nation, to all who would accept
  of them. The result was, the greatest mysteries in religion became the
  common topic of discourse, and were treated as the contrivances of
  priests to bring the world into blind submission to their authority.
  This raised a great outcry against Socinianism; and, as Tillotson and
  some of the bishops had lived in great friendship with Mr Firmin,
  (because of his charitable temper, which they thought it became them
  to encourage,) books like “Essays on the Balance of Power,” began to
  be put in circulation—(See Burnet’s _History of His Own Time_. 1st
  Edit., vol. ii. p. 212.)

-----

The next fortnight was spent in a quarrel between the two houses
respecting the right of the Lower House to prorogue itself, and they
then adjourned from the 8th of April to the 8th of May.

On the latter day the houses again assembled. The archbishop warmly
rebuked the Lower House for their unwarrantable assumption in daring to
prorogue themselves, and for claiming a distinct recess; and declared
that such behaviour had “given the greatest blow to the Church that it
received since the Presbyterian assembly that sat at Westminster in the
late times of confusion.” This rebuke made bad things worse, and the
Lower House became more rebellious than ever. The bishops appointed a
committee of five to meet a similar number of the Lower House, for the
purpose of examining the acts of the present synod, and to report upon
them. To this proposal, the Lower House replied that they should not
nominate any committee; but some of its members sent an address to the
archbishop stating their disapproval of its proceedings. Burnet
says:—“Many of the most eminent and learned of its members protested
against its proceedings;” but the actual protest shows that the
opposition, in point of numbers, was a very insignificant minority,
consisting, at the most, of only fifteen persons.

To evince their opposition still more, the Lower House proceeded to
attack the work of Burnet on the Thirty-nine Articles. This work had
been undertaken at the request of Queen Mary, and was published in 1699,
after being revised, corrected, and approved by three archbishops,
Tillotson, Tennison, and Sharpe, and five bishops, Stillingfleet,
Patrick, Lloyd, Williams, and More. The complaints of the Lower House
were three. 1. That Burnet’s book tends to introduce such a latitude and
diversity of opinions, as the articles were framed to avoid. 2. That
there are many passages in the book which are contrary to the true
meaning of the articles, and to other received doctrines of the Church.
And, 3. That there are some things in the book which are of dangerous
consequence to the Church of England, and which derogate from the honour
of its reformation. For a time, the Upper House stoutly refused to
receive these complaints, because of other irregularities of which the
Lower House had been guilty; but, at length, at Burnet’s request, they
were entertained. A committee was appointed, and came to the following
resolutions:—1.That the Lower House “had no manner of power judicially
to censure any book.” 2. That it “ought not to have entered on the
examination of a book of any bishop without first acquainting the
president and bishops with it.” 3. That the censure of Burnet’s book “is
defamatory and scandalous.” 4. That Burnet, by his writings, “had done
great service to the Church of England, and deserves the thanks of
convocation.” 5. That the prolocutor and some other members of the Lower
House had been guilty of contempt and disobedience.

These were hard words; but the unseemly squabble was soon over; for a
few days afterwards, on June 24th, the royal writ prorogued parliament,
and, of course, prorogued convocation with it.

The new convocation was opened on the 31st of December following. The
Latin service was read by the Bishop of Oxford, and the sermon preached
by the Dean of St Paul’s. Dr Woodward was elected prolocutor, and two
months were occupied in the same angry discussions, respecting the
prerogatives of the two houses, which had disgraced the convocation
previous. The simple point contended for was this: the Lower House
claimed to be on the same footing as to the Upper House that the Commons
in Parliament are in regard to the House of Lords; that is, to adjourn
by their own authority, apart from the Upper House, where, and to such
time, as they should think proper. This the Upper House resisted,
maintaining that the ancient usage was for the archbishop to adjourn
both houses together, and to the same time. This was the only matter
discussed by the convocation which met on December 31, 1701; and this
was not settled, for, in the midst of the discussion, King William died
on the 8th of March 1702, and thus those ecclesiastical brawlers were
sent home to attend to more sacred work in their respective churches.

These disreputable contentions continued for many years after this. “The
governing men in the Lower House,” says Burnet, “were headstrong and
factious, and designed to force themselves into preferment by the noise
they made, and by the ill-humour which they endeavoured to spread among
the clergy, who were generally soured by their proceedings.”

It is impossible to say what part Samuel Wesley took in these
convocation debates; and, in the absence of information, the reader is
left to guess.

We conclude the present chapter with a brief review of the state of
things during the reign of King William’s successor, Queen Anne. This
will clear the way for further details respecting Mr Wesley.

Anne was proclaimed Queen of England in March 1702. She was in the
thirty-eighth year of her age, but was as much under the tutelage of
Lord and Lady Marlborough as if she had been a girl of fifteen, or of
still tenderer years. Three days after her accession, Marlborough was
decorated with the order of the garter, and very soon obtained the
entire command of the English army. His countess was made groom of the
stole and mistress of the robes, and was intrusted with the management
of the privy purse. His two daughters were nominated ladies of the
bedchamber; and the father-in-law of one of these ladies, the Earl of
Sunderland, obtained the renewal of a pension of £2000, which had been
granted him by King William. Marlborough’s influence, in the court of
England was omnipotent.[155]

-----

Footnote 155:

  Macaulay writes:—“Queen Anne had no will, no judgment, no conscience,
  but those of the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough. To them she had
  sacrificed affections, prejudices, habits, interests. In obedience to
  them, she had joined in the conspiracy against her father. She had
  fled from Whitehall in the depth of winter, through ice and mire, to a
  hackney coach. She had taken refuge in the rebel camp. She had
  consented to yield her place in the order of succession to the Prince
  of Orange. While a large party was disposed to make her an idol, the
  Duke and Duchess of Marlborough regarded her merely as their puppet,
  and no person, who had a natural interest in Anne, could observe,
  without uneasiness, the strange infatuation which made her the slave
  of an imperious and reckless termagant.”

-----

The Queen, unlike her predecessor King William, was a most bigoted Tory.
From her infancy she had imbibed unconquerable prejudices against the
Whigs; and looked upon them all not only as Republicans, who hated the
very shadow of regal authority, but as implacable enemies to the Church
of England. Hence she lost no opportunity of filling up offices of State
with her own partisans and friends, and, in a short time, the Whigs of
King William were displaced, and the Tories of Queen Anne took their
posts.[156] All this had an influence on the nation in general. The
people began to change their sentiments, and persons of all ranks began
to argue in favour of strict hereditary succession, divine right, and
non-resistance to the regal power.

-----

Footnote 156:

  Knight’s _History of England_.

-----

“Nature,” says Macaulay, “had made Queen Anne a bigot. Such was the
constitution of her mind, that, to the religion of her nursery she could
not but adhere, without examination and without doubt, till she was laid
in her coffin. In the court of her father she had been deaf to all that
could be urged in favour of transubstantiation and auricular confession.
In the court of her brother she was equally deaf to all that could be
urged in favour of a general union among Protestants. This slowness and
obstinacy made her important. It was a great thing to be the only member
of the Royal family who regarded Papists and Presbyterians with an
impartial aversion.”

Soon after the Queen’s accession there was a parliamentary election, and
the choice went generally in favour of those who were friends to the
Church and monarchy. The House of Commons was now ready, as well as her
Majesty’s chief ministers, to concur in her designs for the suppression
of Dissenters, and for the aggrandisement of the Established Church. The
House of Lords, however, had been so remodelled, in the reign of King
William, that there was only a minority of its members in favour of the
Queen’s principles and projects, and hence ecclesiastical measures,
which passed the Lower House with acclamations, met in the Upper House
with opposition and defeat.

One of the first measures of the new parliament was the “Occasional
Conformity Bill,” the real object of which was to render null the
Toleration Act, by providing that all who took the sacrament and the
test, as qualifications for office, and afterwards went to the meetings
of Dissenters, should be disabled for holding public offices, and should
be fined £100, and £5 additional for every day that such person or
persons continued in public office after being present at such
Dissenting meetings. The Queen’s Tories in the House of Commons carried
the bill with a triumphant majority; but, in the House of Lords, King
William’s bishops stoutly opposed the measure, and, despite the
influence of Marlborough, succeeded in its rejection. When parliament
broke up, the Queen told its members that she hoped such of her subjects
as had “the _misfortune_ to dissent from the Church of England would
rest secure and satisfied in the Act of Toleration, which she was firmly
resolved to maintain;” and that those who had the “happiness and
advantage to be of _our Church_ might rest assured that she would make
it her particular care to encourage and maintain the Church in all its
just rights and privileges, and so transmit it securely settled to
posterity.”[157]

-----

Footnote 157:

  _Life of Queen Anne_, London, 1721.

-----

When parliament re-assembled, in 1703, the rejected “Occasional
Conformity Bill” was again brought into the House of Commons, and passed
without any considerable opposition, but was again rejected in the House
of Lords.

In the same year, the Queen, on her birthday, showed her devoted
attachment to the Church of England by making a grant of her whole
revenue, arising out of the first-fruits and tenths, for augmenting the
livings of the poorer clergy. These first-fruits and tenths amounted to
about £16,000 a year, and, in the time of Charles II. had been
distributed chiefly among his concubines and his illegitimate children.
There were now hundreds of clergymen whose livings were not worth more
than £20 a year, and thousands whose livings did not exceed £50 a year.
Of course, the Queen was well nigh overwhelmed with addresses, thanking
her for her royal bounty, and it was difficult to tell whether she was
prouder of the title “Queen of England,” than she was of “Nursing-mother
to the Church.” This tender care for poor ministers, however, did not
extend to other sects of the Protestant communion; for, just at the same
time, this royal benefactress allowed the Irish Parliament to stop the
paltry grant of £1200 per annum, which had been paid to the poor
Presbyterian ministers in Ulster in the reign of her predecessor, King
William.

In 1704, the “Occasional Conformity Bill” was a third time introduced
into the House of Commons, though there was still not the slightest
chance of its passing in the House of Lords.

In the year following, Lord Halifax moved, in the Upper House, that a
day might be appointed to inquire into the “Dangers of the Church,” it
being alleged that the rejection of the “Occasional Conformity Bill” was
likely to ruin both Church and State, and especially when this was
coupled with the liberty of the press and the licence of the times,
wherein no restraint was laid upon those who vilified the established
religion. Both Houses of Parliament, however, passed a resolution, to
the effect, that the Church of England was in a most safe and
flourishing condition, and the Queen ordered a proclamation to be issued
accordingly.

All this created great excitement, which will have to be more fully
noticed in another chapter. At present, we can only add that, in 1712,
an act was passed by parliament, to the effect, that, if any person
holding public office should attend a conventicle, at which more than
ten persons were assembled, he should be fined £40, and should be
adjudged incapable henceforth to hold such office, or any other office
or employment whatsoever, unless he conformed to the Church of England
for one year without being present at any conventicle, and received,
during that year, the holy sacrament at least three times.

This intolerant Act of Parliament was followed by another of a kindred
kind, in 1714, the year of Queen Anne’s decease—“An Act to prevent the
growth of schism, and for the further security of the Churches of
England and Ireland, as by law established.” By this statute, it was
enacted that, if any person dared to keep any public or private school
without subscribing a declaration to the effect that he would conform to
the Liturgy of the Church of England, and without obtaining a licence
from the ordinary of the place, such person, on conviction, should be
committed to the common gaol for three months. The same penalty was to
be inflicted upon a person who had duly qualified himself for the office
of schoolmaster, and had obtained the necessary licence, if he dared to
be present at any conventicle where prayer was not offered for Queen
Anne.[158]

-----

Footnote 158:

  _Life of Queen Anne._

-----

This was a fitting wind up of the reign of an ecclesiastical, though
well-intentioned bigot. Anne was seized with apoplexy on the 28th of
July 1714, and four days afterwards died, without being able either to
receive the sacrament or to sign her will. This princess was remarkable
neither for learning nor capacity, and yet “she was,” says John Wesley,
“a good wife, a tender mother, a warm friend, an indulgent mistress, a
munificent patron, and a merciful monarch; for, during her whole reign,
no subjects’ blood was shed for treason. In a word, if she was not the
greatest she was certainly one of the best and most unblemished
sovereigns that ever sat upon the throne of England; and well deserved
the expressive, though simple, epithet of ‘The good Queen Anne.’”[159]

-----

Footnote 159:

  Wesley’s _History of England_.

-----

Great efforts were made, during the reign of Anne, to multiply churches,
but, at the same time, there was an enormous increase of places of
public resort and public discussion. Club-houses, chocolate-houses, and
coffee-houses became so numerous that, besides the large ones, there was
one or more for almost every parish in the capital, in which citizens
regaled themselves to their hearts’ content, and found fault with the
management of public matters. On entering a coffee-house, the visitor
had only to pay a penny at the bar, and for this he was not only served
with a cup of coffee, but accommodated with the newspapers of the day,
and with the newest pamphlets on morals and on politics. Tradesmen
forsook their shops, and merchants their offices, to take care of the
affairs of state, and to harangue upon the misconduct of the ministry,
until, by neglecting their business, those oratorical financiers and
disinterested patriots were, not unfrequently, seized by an ambushment
of bumbailiffs, and, after having defrayed the debts of the nation, were
ignominiously conducted to a sponging-house for not being able to pay
their own.

While the middle and the lower classes were thus discussing politics,
the fashionable orders were devoted to pleasure and to gallantry. From
ten to twelve the beau received his visitors in bed, where he lay in
state, his periwig, superbly powdered, lying beside him on the sheets;
while his toilet-table was sprinkled with amorous poems, a canister of
Spanish snuff, a smelling bottle, and a few fashionable trinkets. At
twelve he rose, and after spending three hours in perfuming his clothes,
in soaking his hands in washes to make them delicate and white, in
tinging his cheeks with carminative to give them a gentle blush, in
dipping his handkerchief in rose water, and in powdering his linen to
banish from it the smell of soap—the self-indulgent exquisite then sat
down to dinner. At four o’clock, he repaired to some place of public
concourse, where he endeavoured to display his gallantry and wit. At
five, he proceeded to the theatre, where, to give himself the air of a
critic, he readjusted his cravat, and sprinkled his face with snuff.
From the theatre he would wander to the park, buzzing and fluttering
from lady to lady, and chattering to each a jargon made up of bad
English, atrocious French, and undistinguishable Latin. And then, his
lounge in the park being ended, he concluded the day by dropping into
some fashionable party, where he chatted his empty nothings, played at
ombre, and lost his money with an air of fashionable indifference.

Besides these fashionable beaus, there were those who, in the language
of the day, were called bully-beaus,—fellows figuring in Ramillies’
perukes, laced hats, black cockades, and scarlet suits; and who
maintained a reputation for courage, by empty swagger and violent
assaults on the peaceable members of society. These gallants, instead of
confining their follies and their fopperies within the compass of the
metropolis, very often made country excursions to bamboozle fox-hunting
squires, and to make love to their unsophisticated daughters. The fair
rustics were dazzled by the surpassing finery of such manners, dress,
and speech; while young clod-poll squires were set agog to emulate the
captivating visitor. In this way many a youth, whose gayest party had
been a country wake, was translated into a London fop. As soon as his
father had broken his neck over a six-barred gate, or fairly drunk
himself into his coffin, the rustic aspirant turned his back on the old
mansion of his progenitors, and hied to London, dressed in his best
leathern breeches tied at the knee with red taffeta, his new blue
jacket, and his fashionable greatcoat, both adorned with buttons of the
orthodox size and shape. Bully-beaus and sharpers took him into
training; tailors, silk-mercers, and cabinetmakers hastened to his
levees; whilst prize-fighters, horse-racers, fiddlers, and
dancing-masters, pimps and parasites, soon transformed a raw country
bumpkin into a finished gentleman of town.

Besides the fashionable and bully-beaus, already mentioned, there were
the Darby-Captains, the Tash-Captains, the Cock-and-bottle Captains, and
the Nickers. But of all the turbulent characters of the period, none
were so distinguished as the Mohocks. These fellows, after drinking to
an outrageous extent to qualify themselves for action, would rush into
the streets with drawn swords, cutting, stabbing, and carbonading all
the unlucky persons that happened to cross their path. Sometimes they
“tipped the lion” on their victim, that is, flattened his nose and
gouged out his eyes; sometimes they were “dancing-masters,” because they
made people cut capers by thrusting swords into their legs; and
sometimes they were “tumblers,” because they would place a woman
topsy-turvy upon her head, or tumble her into an empty barrel, and send
it rolling down Snow Hill. Rightly were they designated “Mohocks,” for
they out-did the atrocities of the tribe of Indian savages whose name
they used.

But leaving the male, look for a moment at the female sex. A fashionable
lady in the days of Queen Anne was thought to be learned enough if she
could barely read and write. If she could finish a letter without
notorious bad spelling, she might pass for a wit. She plunged into all
the amusements of the day with an intensity proportioned to her lack of
moral and intellectual resources. A whirl of daily varieties was
necessary to occupy the emptiness of her mind. She dashed over the town,
upon a round of visiting, in a carriage with four laced and powdered
footmen behind it. When she was obliged to stay at home, she regaled
herself with frequent libations of tea, sometimes qualified with brandy.
When her female friends dropped in, the scandal of the day commenced,
and reputations were torn to tatters. When she held her levees, the
dashing rake and notorious profligate had free access, and the lewd jest
scarcely raised the fan to a single check. It was unfashionable to be
religious; and if a lady of _ton_ went to church, it was to see company
and to deal courtesies from her pew. She patronised French milliners,
French hairdressers, and Italian Opera singers. She loved tall footmen
and turbaned negro footboys. She doated upon monkeys, paroquets, and
lap-dogs; was a perfect critic in old China and Indian trinkets; and
could not exist without a raffle or a sale.

The manners of high life being thus frivolous and depraved, no wonder
that servants were neither wiser nor better than their employers.
Complaints were universal of the arrogance, dishonesty, laziness, and
luxury of valets and footmen; whilst charges against pert, mercenary,
intriguing Abigails were equally loud and numerous. Their cleverness, to
a great extent, consisted in obtaining the largest wages for the
smallest services.

Such a condition of the national character was a fruitful soil for
superstition and credulity. Almost every old mansion was still
ghost-haunted, and almost every parish was tormented by a witch.
Fortune-telling was a common and thriving occupation; and quack-doctors
were, if possible, still more numerous than astrologers.

The country gentlemen cultivated their paternal acres, watched with
almost Druidical reverence the safety of their ancient oaks, and were
members of the worshipful quorum. On Sundays, they repaired to the
village church, through a lane of uncovered and bowing peasantry;
ascended “the squire’s pew,” the chief seat in the synagogue, and
edified their tenantry by the loudness of their responses. At Christmas,
a multitude of fattened hogs were slaughtered and distributed among the
neighbours; while a string of black puddings and a pack of cards were
sent to every poor family in the parish. A large portion of these rustic
squires were fox-hunters, and appear, for the most part, to have been as
unintellectual as the horses they galloped, or the animals they chased;
for their proudest exploit was to clear a six-barred gate, and their
highest ambition to secure a dead fox’s brush for the adornment of their
hunting caps.

Their wives were quiet, domestic drudges, with scarcely enough of
education to keep their book of household expenses, or to spell
correctly the receipt of a new home-made wine, or of an improved
syllabub. No longer thinking it the great business of life to embroider
cushions and coverlets, they commonly settled down into the character of
a Lady Bountiful, and occupied themselves in supplying the poor of their
villages with money, the industrious with work, the idle with counsel,
the vicious with rebuke, and the sick with medicines and with cordials.
In this last department, many of them became so presumptuous that no
ailment was too hard for them, from a toothache to a pestilence, from
the stroke of a cudgel to that of a thunderbolt.

Their sons were taught a little Latin and less Greek, beaten into them,
either at one of the public establishments or by the thwackem of a
domestic schoolroom. When they had been whipped through the parts of
speech, interjections and all, and driven through a few fragmentary
portions of the classics, they were then qualified to shine equally in
the senate or at the masquerade. The grand finish to such an education
was the tour of Europe; and forth went the boy accordingly, in leading
strings, to gaze at streets, mountains, rivers, and trees; and to pick
up, in his rambles, the fashions, frivolities, and vices of the
countries through which he passed.

Their peasantry still presented much the same rude simplicity which had
characterised the poorer classes for the last hundred years. Rural
education had undergone little, if any, improvement; and the monotonous
toils of daily life were enlivened, chiefly, by wakes and fairs,
thronged with puppet-shows, pedlars stalls, raffling-tables, and
drinking-booths.

Such is a bird’s-eye view of the general state of English society at the
commencement of the eighteenth century.[LY]

[The facts in this chapter have been gathered principally from Knight’s
_Pictorial History_, Macaulay’s _History_, Burnet’s _History of His Own
Times_, Lathbury’s _History of Convocation_, the _Tatler_, the
_Spectator_, &c.]




                              CHAPTER XIV.
                  DISASTERS AND DISSENTERS.—1702–1705.


We have already seen that Mr Wesley was seriously involved in debt.
During his attendance at convocation he seems to have received
considerable assistance. In a letter to Archbishop Sharpe, dated August
7, 1702, he mentions several sums which he had received from eminent
persons: the Dean of Exeter, £10; Dr Stanley, £10; Archbishop of
Canterbury, £10, 10s.; and, he adds:—“Even my lord Marquis of Normanby,
by my good lady’s solicitations succeeding your Grace’s, did verily and
indeed, with his own hand, give me twenty guineas, and my lady five.
With these and other sums I made up about £60, and came home joyful
enough,—thanked God,—paid as many debts as I could,—quieted the rest of
my creditors,—took the management of my house into my own hands,—and had
ten guineas left to take my harvest.”[160]

-----

Footnote 160:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

What is meant by the last sentence but one, I hardly know. It is
difficult to regard it as a reflection on the household management of
his wife. Probably, on account of his wife’s feeble health, his domestic
matters had been managed by his servant; but, be that as it might, the
rector now, perhaps unwisely, took the management himself.

Still, however, the current of life was far from flowing smoothly. Soon
after the removal from the miserable hut at South Ormsby to the spacious
parsonage at Epworth, the rector’s barn fell down, and had to be
rebuilt; and now, on July 31st, 1702, another disaster occurred, which
was more serious than the former.

Mr Wesley shall tell his own story in the letter to Archbishop Sharpe
already quoted. He writes:—“On the last of July 1702, a fire broke out
in my house, by some sparks which took hold of the thatch, and consumed
about two-thirds of it before it could be quenched. I was at the lower
end of the town visiting a sick person, and went thence to R. Cogan’s.
As I was returning, they brought me the news. I got one of his horses,
rode up, and heard, by the way, that my wife, children, and books were
saved; for which God be praised, as well as for what He has taken. They
were all together in my study, and the fire under them. When it broke
out, Mrs Wesley got two of the children in her arms, and ran through the
smoke and fire; but one of them was left in the hurry, till the other
cried for her, when the neighbours ran in, and got her out through the
fire, as they did my books, and most of my goods; this very paper among
the rest, which I afterwards found, as I was looking over what was
saved.

“I find it is some happiness to have been miserable, for my mind has
been so blunted with former misfortunes, that this scarce made any
impression upon me. I shall go on, by God’s assistance, to take my
tithe; and, when that is in, to rebuild my house, having, at last,
crowded my family into what is left, and not missing many of my goods.

“I humbly ask your Grace’s pardon for this long, melancholy story, and
leave to subscribe myself your Grace’s ever obliged and most humble
servant,       S. WESLEY.”

It is a somewhat singular circumstance that the sheet of paper on which
this letter was written, was one on which he had begun a letter to the
archbishop six days before the fire broke out. About four square inches
of the lower corner of the fly-leaf was burnt, and the whole was stained
by the water that helped to put out the flames.

The good archbishop, to whom this account was sent, came forward both
with his purse and influence; and this produced the following touching
and characteristic letter:—

                                         “EPWORTH, _March 20, 1703_.

  “MY LORD,—I have heard that all great men have the art of
  forgetfulness, but never found it in such perfection as in your
  lordship: only it is in a different way from others; for most forget
  their _promises_, but your Grace those _benefits_ you have conferred.
  I am pretty confident your Grace neither reflects on, nor imagines how
  much you have done for me; nor what sums I have received by your
  lordship’s bounty and favour; without which I had been, ere this,
  moulding in a jail, and sunk a thousand fathoms below nothing.

  “Will your Grace permit me to show you an account of some of them?

       “From the Marchioness of Normanby,             £20   0   0
       The Lady Northampton (I think),                 20   0   0
       Duke of Buckingham and Duchess, 2 years since,  26  17   6
       The Queen,                                      43   0   0
       The Bishop of Sarum (Bishop Burnett),           40   0   0
       The Archbishop of York, at least                10   0   0
       Besides lent to (almost) a desperate debtor,    25   0   0
                                                           ——————
                                                      £184  17   6

  “A frightful sum, if one saw it all together; but it is beyond thanks,
  and I must never hope to perform that, as I ought, till another world;
  where, if I get first into the harbour, I hope none shall go before me
  in welcoming your lordship into everlasting habitations; where you
  will be no more tired with my follies, nor concerned at my
  misfortunes. However, I may pray for your Grace while I have breath,
  and that for something nobler than this world can give; it is for the
  increase of God’s favour, of the light of His countenance, and of the
  foretaste of those joys, the firm belief whereof can only support us
  in this weary wilderness. And, if it be not too bold a request, I beg
  your Grace would not forget me, though it be but in your prayer for
  all sorts and conditions of men; among whom, as none has been more
  obliged to your Grace, so, I am sure, none ought to have a deeper
  sense of it than your Grace’s most dutiful and most humble servant,

                                                        “S. WESLEY.”

To a man with a large family, and who, if not at present, had recently
been £300 in debt, the burning of his house was a dire disaster; but,
alas! Samuel Wesley’s calamities did not end with this. During the
winter of 1704, which was very shortly after the rebuilding of his
house, another fire broke out, and burnt the whole of his flax; and,
five years after that, a third fire utterly destroyed his recently
re-erected rectory. But these are facts which, in chronological order,
will have to be noticed anon.

In the year 1703, a small pamphlet was published, entitled, “A Letter
from a Country Divine to his Friend in London, concerning the Education
of Dissenters in their Private Academies in several parts of this
Nation: Humbly offered to the consideration of the Grand Committee of
Parliament for Religion, now sitting. London, 1703,” 4to., pp. 15.[161]
Samuel Wesley was the writer of this letter; but it was printed without
either his consent or knowledge; and, as it led to a serious, prolonged,
and ill-natured controversy, it behoves us to examine its history.

-----

Footnote 161:

  This is taken from Clarke’s _Wesley Family_; but it seems to be a
  mistake to say that the letter consisted of 15 pages. The third
  edition, published by Clavel, in 1706, is now before us, and consists
  of only 8 pages 4to.

-----

Up to the time that Mr Wesley went to Oxford University, he was a
Nonconformist, the child, and the grandchild of expelled Nonconformist
ministers, and a student trained in Nonconformist academics, and having
none but Nonconformist acquaintances. His life at Oxford was retired,
and, therefore, not likely to make him many friends of another
description. On his return to London, in 1688, he not only kept up a
friendship with some of his old Dissenting associates, but also began to
become acquainted with several gentlemen of the Church of England. One
of these, knowing that Wesley had been educated in a Dissenting academy,
zealously, if not wisely, urged him to write an account of the inner
life of such establishments. For some time Wesley resisted this request;
but at length a circumstance happened which led him to comply. He tells
us that he went, with some of his Dissenting acquaintances, to a
Dissenting festival, held in a house in Leadenhall Street. The discourse
of these festive Dissenters was so fulsome, profane, and lewd, that he
was not able to endure it. In a little while they sat down to supper,
and now they all began to rail against monarchy, and to blaspheme the
memory of King Charles the martyr. These proceedings convinced Wesley
that his old friends, who some years before had prompted him to “dabble
in rhyming lampoons both on Church and State,” were as disaffected and
disloyal as ever. He felt disgusted, and leaving the room, he went home,
and, before he slept, wrote the letter, which was published some twelve
or thirteen years afterwards.

But here we must pause. The festival, at which Wesley was present, was
the anniversary of the notorious Calves-head Club, and a brief account
of that infamous fraternity seems needful.

In the British Museum, there is a small quarto pamphlet of twenty-two
pages, entitled “The Secret History of the Calves-head Club; or, The
Republican Unmasked: Wherein is fully shown the religion of the
Calves-head heroes, in their anniversary thanksgiving songs, on the 30th
January, by them called anthems, for the years 1693 to 1697; now
published to demonstrate the restless, implacable spirit of a certain
party still among us, who are never to be satisfied, till the present
establishment in Church and State is subverted. London: Printed and sold
by the booksellers of London and Westminster, 1703.” From that pamphlet
the following particulars are taken:—

The preface states, that, “the poems, or ribaldry, and trash following
were composed and set to music for the use of the Calves-head Club,
which was erected by an impudent set of people, who have their feasts of
calves’ heads, in several parts of the town, on the 30th of January, in
derision of that day, and in defiance of monarchy; at divers of which
meetings the following compositions were sung, and which, in affront of
the Church, were called anthems.”

The preface then descants on the persecutions and indignities suffered
by King Charles I., and states that, “of all the indignities offered to
the manes of the injured prince, nothing equals the inhumanity and
profaneness of the Calves-head Club.”

It further alleges:—“That Milton and some other creatures of the
commonwealth had instituted this club, in opposition to Bishop Juxon, Dr
Sanderson, Dr Hammond, and other divines of the Church of England, who
met privately every 30th of January, and, though it was during the time
of the usurpation, compiled a private form of service for the day, not
much different from what we now find in the Liturgy.”

It is stated further, that “after the Restoration, the eyes of the
Government being upon the whole (Calves-head) party, they were obliged
to meet with a great deal of precaution; but now, in the second year of
the reign of King William, they meet almost in a public manner, and
apprehend nothing.”

“A gentleman, about eight years ago, went out of mere curiosity to see
their club, which was kept at no fixed house, but removed as they saw
convenient. The place they met in, when he was with them, was in a blind
alley about Moorfields; and the company wholly consisted of Independents
and Anabaptists. The famous Jerry White, formerly chaplain to Oliver
Cromwell, who, no doubt, came to sanctify with his pious exhortations
the ribaldry of the day, said grace. After the table-cloth was removed,
the anniversary anthem, as they impiously called it, was sung, and a
calf’s head filled with wine, or other liquor, was placed before the
company. Then a brimmer went about to the pious memory of those worthy
patriots that had killed the tyrant, and had delivered the country from
his arbitrary sway; and, last of all, a collection was made for the
mercenary scribbler, who had composed the anthem, to which every man
contributed according to his zeal for the cause, or the ability of his
purse.”

Such are the principal statements contained in the edition of this
curious and scarce pamphlet, published in 1703; but, in another edition,
published two years afterwards, it is added: “That an axe was hung up in
the club room; and that the bill of fare was a large dish of
calves’-heads dressed in divers ways, a large pike with a small one in
his mouth as an emblem of tyranny, a large cod’s head to represent the
person of the king, and a boar’s head with an apple in its mouth to
represent the king’s bestiality. After the repast, one of the elders of
the club presented an Eikon Basilike, which, with great solemnity, was
burnt upon the table whilst the anthem was being sung; and then another
elder produced Milton’s ‘Defensio Populi Anglicani,’ upon which all laid
their hands, and made a protestation, in form of an oath, for ever to
stand by and to maintain it.”

The anthems for the years 1693 to 1697, inclusive, are then given in the
pamphlet, and contain some things which it would be criminal to reprint.
We subjoin the least objectionable specimens that we can give.

The anthem for 1693 consists of five verses of eight lines each, with a
chorus. The following lines are taken from the third and fourth verses:—

           “Triumphant laurels too must crown that head,
           Whose righteous hand struck England’s tyrant dead;
           The heroes too, adorn’d with blood and sweat,
           Who forced the opposing monster to retreat.

           “’Tis force must pull the lawless tyrant down;
           But give men knowledge, and the priest’s undone;
           In vain he whines, in vain he cants and prays,
           There’s not a man believes one word he says.”

The following infamous lines are taken from the anthem for 1694. After
describing the “fall of the tyrant,” and the satisfaction of the nation,
and their own celebration of the event, those bacchanalian revellers are
made to sing:—

         “Then fill the calf’s cranium to a health so divine,
         The cause, the old cause, shall ennoble our wine;
         Charge briskly around, fill it up, fill it full,
         ’Tis the last and best service of a tyrannical skull.
               Then to puss, boys, to puss, boys,
               Let’s drink it off thus, boys,” &c.

The anthem for 1695 consists of five verses; the first, the second, and
the fourth verses are too profane and lewd to be reproduced. The
following are the third and fifth. After describing the people hurrying
to Church on the 30th of January, and asking what is meant by it, the
foul-mouthed members sing:—

               “Oh! sir, it is a debt they say,
               Mother Church must yearly pay
                 To her saints’ canonisation;
               It is the day in which he fell,
               A martyr to the cause of hell,
                 Justly crown’d with decollation.

               “May the banish’d Tarquins’[162] fate,
               Be as just, but not so great;
                 Some mean shameful death attend him:
               May cursed Lewis, for old sores,
               Turn him poorly out of doors;
                 Then may some friendly halter end him.”

-----

Footnote 162:

  James II.

-----

The greater part of the anthem for 1696 is filthy and profane to a
horrible degree. The following are the last four lines, and the least
exceptionable:—

  “Oh! how should we rejoice and pray, and never cease to sing a,
  If bishops too were chased away, and banish’d with their king a,
  Then peace and plenty would ensue, our bellies would be full a,
  The enliven’d isle would laugh and smile, as in the days of Noll a.”

The anthem for 1697 consists of ten verses. The following are the eighth
and ninth:—

                 “They and we this day observing,
                   Differ only in one thing,
                 They are canting, whining, starving,
                   We, rejoicing, drink and sing.

                 “Advance the emblem of the action!
                   Fill the calf’s skull full of wine;
                 Drinking ne’er was counted faction,
                   Men and gods adore the vine.”

It is said that the author of these scurrilous productions was Benjamin
Bridgewater, M.A., of Trinity College, Cambridge, “whose genius,” says
Dunton, “was very rich, and ran much upon poetry; but, alas! wine and
love were his ruin.” He was largely rewarded by the Calves-head Club for
his profane and lewd effusions.

Assuming the above description of the Calves-head Club to be correct, no
wonder that Samuel Wesley was disgusted with its proceedings; and,
though this perhaps scarcely justifies the writing of the letter which
was published in 1703, yet, it is some excuse for it. Wesley, in his
letter, apologises for writing against a body among whom he was
educated, to whom his ancestors belonged, and from whom he had received
many personal favours. He declares that he feels no enmity against the
party he had left; that he honoured some of them, and pitied others, but
hated none. He states that his purpose is to relate the methods used by
Dissenters to propagate a ministry in opposition to the Established
Church; to describe what kind of schools and colleges they had set up,
to supersede the necessity of going to the universities; and to show how
these were maintained, what principles they taught, and what sort of
arguments they used to confirm their pupils in their dissent, and to
hinder them from going over to the communion of the Church.

But now, it may be asked, why was Wesley’s letter, after the lapse of so
many years, given to the public in a printed form? It is somewhat
difficult to answer this; and yet there are certain facts which will
help to cast light upon it. In 1702, King William died, and Queen Anne,
the patroness of the High Church party, succeeded to the throne. The
Dissenters, who, for the last thirteen years, had received royal
favours, were now the objects of royal abhorrence. Just at this
juncture, Samuel Wesley’s letter respecting their academies was
published. In the same year, 1703, the first part of Clarendon’s History
of the Rebellion was printed, and dedicated to Queen Anne. In the
dedication occurs the following paragraph:—“What can be the meaning of
the several seminaries, and, as it were, universities, set up in divers
parts of the kingdom, by more than ordinary industry, contrary to law,
supported by large contributions, where the youth is bred up in
principles directly contrary to monarchical and Episcopal government?
What can be the meaning of the constant solemnizing by some men, the
anniversary of that dismal thirtieth of January, in scandalous and
opprobrious feasting and jesting, which the law of the land hath
commanded to be perpetually observed in fasting and humiliation? It is
humbly submitted to your Majesty whether this does not look like an
industrious propagation of the rebellious principles of the last age,
and whether it is not necessary that your Majesty should have an eye
toward such unaccountable proceedings?”

In 1704, a second part of Clarendon’s History was published, with
another dedication to the same royal patroness, in which, in reference
to the Dissenters, it is said:—“Let them clear themselves of that they
were lately charged with before your Majesty, that there are societies
of them which celebrate the horrid thirtieth of January, with an
execrable solemnity of scandalous mirth; and that they have seminaries,
and a sort of universities, in England, maintained by great
contributions, where the fiercest doctrines against monarchical and
Episcopal government are taught and propagated, and where they bear an
implacable hatred to your Majesty’s title, name, and family.”

In the same year that Samuel Wesley’s letter was published, Queen Anne
gave her first-fruits and tenths for augmenting the livings of the
poorer clergy. In addition to this, the “Occasional Conformity Bill” was
passed by the Commons and rejected by the Lords, and created great
excitement in the nation. In the House of Peers, “Archbishop Sharpe said
he apprehended danger from the increase of Dissenters, and particularly
from the many academies set up by them, and moved that the judges might
be consulted what laws were in force against such seminaries, and by
what means they might be suppressed.”[163]

-----

Footnote 163:

  Calamy’s _Life and Times_.

-----

It becomes an interesting inquiry to ask in what relation Mr Wesley’s
letter stood to “The Secret History of the Calves-head Club,” to the
strong language used in the dedicatory preface of Clarendon’s History of
the Rebellion, to the bounty of Queen Anne, to the “Occasional
Conformity Bill,” and to the speech of his faithful and affectionate
friend, Archbishop Sharpe? This is a question which we cannot answer,
but that his letter was deemed an important one is evident from the
attention it attracted, and the excitement it occasioned.[164]

-----

Footnote 164:

  Burnet, in his _History of His Own Time_, (folio ed., vol. ii. p.
  247,) mentions some other important facts belonging to this period. He
  says, the Dissenters had quarrels and disputes among themselves. The
  Independents were raising the old Antinomian tenets, and the
  Presbyterians were accusing the Baptists of giddiness. One Asgil, a
  member of Parliament, published a book to prove that since believers
  recovered in Christ all that they lost in Adam, they are now rendered
  immortal by Christ, and not liable to death. George Keith, who, for
  thirty-six years, had been the most learned man among the Quakers, now
  discovered that the Quakers were Deists, and treated the Christian
  religion as allegorical; upon which he opened a new meeting to
  convince the Quakers of their errors; and, having failed in doing so,
  he was reconciled to the Established Church, and entered into holy
  orders. The clergy also were much divided. Those who were now called
  the High-Church party, had all along expressed a coldness to the
  present settlement, and now began to complain about the grievances of
  the clergy, and the danger the Church was in. Atterbury, who by his
  great ability and eloquence, had become one of their leaders, attacked
  the supremacy of the crown in ecclesiastical affairs, and the hot men
  of the clergy readily entertained his notions.

-----

Most of the facts contained in Mr Wesley’s letter have been already
given in the third and fourth chapters of this work, and hardly anything
can be added here.

One of Wesley’s most offensive assertions is that the Dissenters are “a
sort of people none of the best-natured in the world,” though he admits
that “all or most of his relations and acquaintances” belong to that
denomination. He adds, that, he was deterred “writing lest he should be
thought ungrateful to those from whom, for some years, he received his
bread; and also, lest what he said should increase existing
animosities.” He says he “honours some of the Dissenters and pities
others, without hating any.” His statements must have been galling; but
we are bound to say there is no appearance of an acrimonious spirit. Had
his opponents possessed and evinced the same good-tempered moderation,
the controversy would not have been so painful and discreditable as what
it was.

Samuel Wesley’s first and chief antagonist was Samuel Palmer, an
Independent minister of some repute, upon whom Dunton lavishes the
highest praise. He tells us that he was educated by Dr Kerr, and pursued
his studies at the rate of seventeen hours a-day; that his temper was
open and sincere, and that he abhorred all trick and flattery; that he
was a man of great generosity, very charitable, and very humble; that he
never courted the rich, and was always ready to attend the poor; that he
preached without notes, and that his delivery, voice, and style were
excellent; that he took great pains with the rising generation, and that
his catechetical lectures were plain, easy, and full; that he was
well-beloved by all the clergy and gentlemen of the Church of England
who knew him, and that he was well skilled in law and politics—

          “Sum all in him that’s good, and learn’d, and great,
          Place him in learning’s, and in Bates’ seat;
          He shines in wit, and yet is so sedate,
          That none can equal, best but imitate.
          In Palmer see, in Palmer all admire,
          What nature, books, and honour can inspire.
          Were Wesley but impartial, he would own
          His learned answer lash’d him to the bone.
          A better vindication none could write,
          Nor any satire show us half the wit.”[165]

-----

Footnote 165:

  Dunton’s _Life and Errors_.

-----

Samuel Palmer, as Dunton intimates, pursued his academical studies under
Dr Kerr, a gentleman of considerable reputation for classical learning,
who was first a tutor in Ireland, but was driven thence by the tyranny
of the Earl of Tyrconnel, and then settled at Bethnal Green, where he
met with great encouragement, and trained several Dissenting ministers,
who were ornaments to religion and learning. Palmer entered upon the
ministry at Grave Lane Chapel, Southwark, in 1698. His first two
publications were his replies to Wesley, published respectively in 1703
and 1705, and which were accounted very able performances, and procured
the author considerable reputation. Within a year or two after the
second of these publications, he, like Wesley, left the Dissenters, and
took orders in the Church of England, and had conferred upon him the
living of Malden in Essex. It is said that this conversion to the Church
of England arose out of his disappointment at not being rewarded
according to his apprehended merit for his pamphlets against Wesley. It
is further said, that, after he joined the Establishment, he grew lax in
his morals until his conduct became scandalous. We are not informed as
to the time and place of his decease; but, in 1710 he published an
octavo volume, entitled “Moral Essays, founded upon English, Scotch, and
Foreign Proverbs.”[166] Such was Wesley’s principal antagonist.

-----

Footnote 166:

  _History of Dissenting Churches in London_, by Wilson.

-----

Mr Wesley’s letter gave the Dissenters great offence, but the reader
must not forget the circumstances under which it was written, and the
dishonourable way in which it was afterwards published. About the year
1690, Wesley was introduced to the meeting of the Calves-head Club
already mentioned. Rightly or wrongly, Wesley regarded Charles I. as a
“royal martyr,” for thus he emphatically speaks of him in the dedication
he prefixed to his “History of the Old and New Testaments in Verse;”
but, at the meeting at which he was now present, the name and memory of
Charles were treated with even profane derision and contempt. Is it
surprising that this spirited young man should leave the place with a
feeling of disgust, and that, in the heat of the moment, he should sit
down to write what he had often been solicited to write, an account of
the “Education of the Dissenters in their private academies”? He tells
us that he began to write his letter as soon as he left the club, and
that he finished it before five o’clock next morning. He then went to
bed, placing his manuscript beneath his pillow. While he slept, a
Dissenting friend, who had seen him thoughtful, came and stealthily took
the manuscript away and read it. Such behaviour was highly
dishonourable, and can be excused only on the ground of supposing that
Wesley and this Dissenter were intimate and confidential friends. Be
that as it may, when Wesley awoke and missed his letter, he charged the
Dissenter with having it. The purloiner produced the missing manuscript,
said he had read it, and that there was nothing in it but what was true.
Still he was doubtful respecting the expediency of divulging such
revelations, and persuaded Wesley not to send the letter to the person
for whom it was intended.

That person was Robert Clavel, a respectable and extensive dealer in
books, master of the Company of Stationers, and whom Dr Barlow, Bishop
of Lincoln, used to call “the honest bookseller.” By some means, Clavel
became possessed of Wesley’s letter. Wesley never intended it for the
public eye. He declares that he wrote it as a “_private_ letter to a
particular friend, and had not the least thought of its being
published.” Clavel kept the letter in his private possession for about a
dozen years. The Dissenters were rapidly rising into power. The High
Church party took alarm, and Queen Anne became a tool for the
accomplishment of their purposes. Just at this juncture Clavel, without
Wesley’s consent, and even without consulting him, took upon himself to
print the letter which Wesley, at a single sitting, had written some
twelve years before, and, to give it more importance, actually dedicated
it to the House of Commons, at that time most hostile to the Dissenters,
and eager to do something for their suppression.

What was the result? Wesley’s letter was published anonymously, but as
it contained a biographical sketch of the early history of the writer,
there was no difficulty in detecting the author. Accordingly there
appeared, almost immediately, a small quarto pamphlet of twenty-four
pages, with the following title:—“A Defence of the Dissenters’ Education
in their Private Academies, in an answer to Mr W——y’s disingenuous and
unskilful Reflections upon ’em; in a Letter to a Noble Lord.—London,
1703.” This was by Mr Palmer.

Mr Palmer’s defence is full of bitterness. He speaks of Wesley’s
“impotent malice,” “trifling stories,” and “unchristian and
ungentlemanly insinuations.” He says that Wesley’s accusation, that Mr
Morton’s pupils vindicated the murder of Charles I., is “scandalous and
false;” that “the Dissenters universally abhor the king-killing
doctrines;” and that they “have not opposed any king, nor defended any
tyrant.” He also denies that the Dissenters were “undutiful to the
Church and injurious to the Universities;” for “Dr Owen himself required
Wesley to go to the University.” He alleges that Wesley, in his letter,
has “acted unbecoming a scholar, a gentleman, and a Christian;” that he
“has betrayed the private conversations of his best friends, and
insulted the works of great and excellent scholars,” and yet Palmer
admits that Wesley’s “charges might be true, at least in part;” but
thinks the things “were excusable, considering the provocations the
Dissenters received at that period.” He says, Wesley “endeavoured, by
artful and false insinuations, to expose Dissenters to contempt;” speaks
of his letter as “perfidious;” and states that he had received “many
favours from Dissenters even since he conformed to the Church of
England, and that, till the appearance of his invidious letter, the
whole Dissenting party expressed for him, on all occasions, universal
esteem.” He says, Wesley’s works “are saved from contempt only by the
adorable name of Jesus which they bear, and the lovely memory of that
bright saint, the Queen; both of which names, the best poets think, are
injured by his trifling management.” Much of this is not only abusive,
but false.

Mr Palmer’s defence was written at the request of the nobleman to whom
it is addressed; and, besides rude reproaches, contains an account of
the academy in which he himself had been trained for the Christian
ministry. Dr Kerr, his tutor, was “a great and polite scholar, a curious
critic, a penetrating philosopher, a deep and rational divine, and an
accurate historian.” He never “heard him make one unhandsome reflection
on the Church of England; and he never offered to impose controverted
points upon his pupils. No man living could perform academical readings
better; and his pupils, in proportion to their number, were equal in
learning and virtue to those of any University in Europe.”

The course adopted by Dr Kerr was for his students to begin with logic,
then proceed to metaphysics, and then to natural philosophy. They
disputed every other day, in Latin, upon the several philosophical
controversies; and, “on Saturdays, all the superior classes declaimed by
turns, four and four, on noble and useful subjects.” On Mondays and
Fridays they read divinity; and every day, after dinner, they read Greek
and Latin authors. They also went through the Greek Testament once a
year. Dr Kerr began the scholastic exercises of every morning with
public prayer, sometimes in English, and sometimes in Latin. At divinity
lectures the eldest pupils prayed, and those of inferior genius were
allowed forms of prayer, either of their own composing, or others, as
they thought proper. Prayer in the family was most punctually observed,
and nine o’clock at night was the latest hour for any pupil to be out of
doors. Obscene or profane discourse, if known, would have been punished
with expulsion; though Palmer admits that some of the students broke the
rules, and gives an account of one or two who became rakes, had to
leave, and entered the Established Church. He adds, that the _rule_
among Dissenters was for every candidate for the ministry to have five
years of preparatory training, and that, before they were recommended to
a pastorship, they had to be examined as to learning, probity, and
virtue, and to have certificates from their tutors. Such is the
substance of Mr Palmer’s defence.

In 1704, Mr Wesley replied to this. His second pamphlet is entitled, “A
Defence of a Letter concerning the Education of Dissenters in their
Private Academies, with a more full and satisfactory account of the
same, and of their morals and behaviour towards the Church of England;
being an Answer to the Defence of the Dissenters’ Education. By Samuel
Wesley: London, 1704;” with this remarkable motto—

                      “Noli irritare crabrones!
                `The Kirk’s a vixen; don’t anger her.’”

The pamphlet consists of sixty-four pages, besides eight of title,
preface, and contents.

In his preface, Mr Wesley gives an account of the writing and
publication of his former letter, which he solemnly declares was printed
without his consent or knowledge.

He then states, that, the reason why he now writes this “Defence” is,
because Palmer, by broad inuendos, has charged him with immoral and
scandalous practices while he lived among the Dissenters.

Wesley’s pamphlet chiefly consists of three parts:—1. The reasons which
induced him to write the letter which Clavel had published, and which
had “lost him the good graces of his old friends.” 2. A consideration of
Palmer’s defence of his party. 3. A refutation of the scandalous charges
brought against himself. The pamphlet is written with great smartness.

In 1705, Palmer published an answer to Wesley’s second pamphlet,
entitled, “A Vindication of the Learning, Loyalty, Morals, and most
Christian Behaviour of the Dissenters towards the Church of England; in
answer to Mr Wesley’s Defence of his Letter concerning the Dissenters’
Education in their Private Academies; and to Mr Sacheverell’s injurious
Reflections upon them. By Samuel Palmer: London, 1705.”

Palmer, in his preface, states that in his former pamphlet he had
charged Wesley with giving a perverse and invidious turn to some of the
Dissenters’ innocent actions; with an ungenerous betrayal of private
confidence, by reflecting upon private conversations; with insulting the
works of great and excellent scholars; and with base ingratitude to his
Dissenting friends. He also speaks most contemptuously of Wesley’s reply
to his previous production, and says he did not think Wesley was
“capable of writing so rash, impertinent, and virulent a piece.”

Palmer’s vindication, which consists of 115 closely—printed quarto
pages, is written with great ability, and is divided into nine chapters.
The first is intended to prove that the Dissenters have a right to have
private academies. The second shows that such academies are no injury to
the prerogatives of Queen Anne, and that their tutors are not guilty of
perjury. The third vindicates the ability of such tutors, and assigns
reasons why the Dissenters have published so few learned works. The
fourth gives the reasons why the Dissenters did not write more against
Popery during the reign of James II. The fifth asserts that the
principles and behaviour of the Dissenters are loyal. The sixth defends
the addresses which the Dissenters presented to James II. The seventh
justifies the personal and public behaviour of Dissenters towards the
Church of England. The eighth vindicates the moral principles and
conversation of Dissenters. And the ninth shows the value which
Dissenters place upon external worship, upon the sacraments, and upon
ordination.

Two years after this, Mr Wesley wrote a long and elaborate reply to this
second pamphlet of Mr Palmer’s; but, for the present, we must pause in
our narrative to glance at other matters now transpiring. It was a
period of intense excitement, and the dissenting controversy was the
great question of the day.

A few weeks after the accession of Queen Anne, the famous Henry
Sacheverell began the war by preaching his furious sermon, at Oxford, on
“political union;” in which, says Defoe, “he dooms all Dissenters to
destruction, without either bell, book, or candle.”[167] In this
celebrated sermon, Sacheverell lays it down as a principle, that
“religion and government, Church and State, make up one entire
compounded constitution, sharing the same fate and circumstances,
twisted and interwoven into the very being and principles of each other,
both alike jointly assisting and being assisted; and, like the
philosopher’s twins, they communicate to each other their mirth or
sorrow, and equally suffer or rejoice. A ruined Church and prosperous
Government are irreconcilable contradictions in experience, confronted
and confuted by the universal testimony of all ages and histories,
sacred and profane.”[168] Having attempted to illustrate and to
establish this principle, he then makes his doctrine to bear upon
English Dissenters, and uses language the most violent. The following
are specimens:—

The Dissenters are “a confused swarm of sectarists gathered about the
body of the Church of England, not to partake of its communion, but to
disturb its peace,” (p. 20.)

Men like Tillotson, who were in favour of the scheme for comprehending
the Dissenters within the pale of the Established Church, are designated
“false and perfidious members, who, under the hypocritical disguise of
charity and moderation, would have taken down the fence of the Church of
England, and removed its landmark, to make way for men to enter, who
would have debauched its doctrines, overrun its discipline, and
subverted its constitution. These shuffling, treacherous latitudinarians
ought to be stigmatised, and treated equally as dangerous enemies to
government, as well as Church,” (p. 20.)

-----

Footnote 167:

  _Inquiry into Occasional Conformity_, by Defoe.

Footnote 168:

  Sacheverell’s _Sermon_, pp. 6, 7.

-----

Again: “Presbytery and Republicanism go hand in hand. They are but the
same disorderly, levelling principles, in the two different branches of
our state, equally implacable enemies to monarchy and Episcopacy. They
were the same hand that were guilty both of regicide and sacrilege, that
divided the king’s head and crown, and that made our churches stables
and dens of beasts, as well as thieves,” (p. 20.)

Again, in reference to Tillotson’s comprehension scheme, this firebrand
orator exclaims: “And yet this Church must open her injured arms to
receive this sly and insidious viper into her bosom. Her sacred
enclosures must be laid open, that this boar out of the wood might waste
it. Her partition wall must be broken down, and the veil of her temple
rent in twain, to make way for that adversary to enter, whom no reason
ever yet could convince; no kindness ever yet could win; no
condescension ever yet could oblige; and whom nothing but the corruption
of our doctrine, the destruction of our discipline, and the
sequestration of our estates and revenues, can satisfy,” (p. 21.)

“The Dissenting party have more than once been joined with the Papists,
in their arms and counsels, as well to extirpate our government as to
subvert our Church. They were at first the bastard spawn of Papists, and
have ever since been the instruments of their malice, the propagators of
their schism, and the panders of that cursed train of mischief, that was
originally hatched in a conclave, and afterwards brought forth and
nursed up in a conventicle. They are not to be looked upon as a
religious sect, but as a political faction in our State, uneasy under
its laws, affronting its authority, denying its legal power,
endeavouring to supplant its jurisdiction, and to wrest the reins of
dominion out of our rulers’ hands,” (p. 22.)

The fiery preacher thus concludes:—“It is an amazing contradiction to
our reason, and the greatest scandal upon our Church, that any,
pretending to be her true sons, pillars, and defenders, should turn such
apostates and renegadoes to their oaths and professions, such false
traitors to their trusts and offices as to strike sail with a party that
is such an open and avowed enemy to our communion, and against whom
every man that wishes its welfare ought to hang out the _bloody flag_
and _banner_ of defiance. Is this the people for whom, at the expense of
hazarding our eternal safety, we must give up our ancient faith,
constitution, and form of worship? If the Church of England can have no
other way of showing her charity than by prostituting her purity, and
debauching her religion, I hope they will pardon her if she imitate her
blessed Author and Founder, under a temptation not unlike it, who, with
scorn and disdain, turned His back upon the devil when he asked Him to
fall down and worship him. We must watch against these crafty,
faithless, and insidious persons, who can _creep_ to our altars, and
partake of our sacraments, that they may be _qualified_ more secretly
and powerfully to undermine us. This is such a religious piece of
political hypocrisy as even no heathen government would have endured;
and, blessed be God, there is now a person on the throne, who so justly
weighs the interest of Church and State as to remove so false an engine
that visibly overturns both,” (p. 24.)

Such was the way in which the High Church party _began_ their campaign,
and four months afterwards their representatives, in the House of
Commons, brought in and passed their pet “Occasional Conformity Bill.”

The Dissenters, at this period, were an influential and important
community. They were, generally speaking, men of trade and industry, and
the moneyed interests of England were, to a great extent, in their
hands. Such was their consequence in the State, that, the parliamentary
discussions of the “Occasional Conformity Bill” seriously influenced the
money market, and the prices of stocks rose or fell just as the bill was
likely to be passed or to be rejected.[169] And yet, notwithstanding
their number and importance, they were, with a few exceptions, extremely
reasonable in their demands. Defoe, himself a Dissenter,[170] expounds
them in a pamphlet published at the time, and we presume that his
exposition may be considered tolerably correct and just. He suggests
that if Dissenters are to be excluded from all places of profit, trust,
and honour, they ought to be excused from all places attended with
charge, trouble, and loss of time; that if a Dissenter be pressed as a
sailor to fight at sea, or be enlisted as a soldier to fight on shore,
he ought not to be declared incapable of preferment; and that if
Dissenters must not only maintain their own clergy and their own poor,
but also join in maintaining the clergy and the poor of the Established
Church,—if they must pay the same taxes and the same duties that
Churchmen pay, it is somewhat hard that they are to be treated with so
much suspicion as not to be thought worthy of being trusted to set a
drunkard in the stocks.[171]

-----

Footnote 169:

  Defoe’s _Dissenters’ Answer to the High Church Challenge_.

Footnote 170:

  Defoe’s _Letter to John Howe_.

Footnote 171:

  Defoe’s _Inquiry into Occasional Conformity_.

-----

Defoe further declares, that, so far as it respects himself, he has not
the least objection to the “Occasional Conformity Bill” becoming law. He
has no notion of “Christians of an amphibious nature, who have such
preposterous consciences that they can believe one way of worship to be
right, and yet serve God another way themselves. This is a strange thing
in Israel! It is like a ship with her sails set, some back and some
full. It is like a workman that builds with one hand, and pulls down
with another. It is like everything which signifies nothing. To say that
a man can be of two religions is a contradiction, unless there be two
Gods to worship, or he has two souls to save. If it be unlawful for me
to dissent, I ought to conform; but if it be unlawful for me to conform,
I must dissent. To say that you take the sacrament as a _civil act_ in a
church, and as a _religious act_ in a chapel, is _playing bo—peep_ with
God Almighty.”[172]

-----

Footnote 172:

  _Ibid._

-----

Such were the sentiments of Defoe, and he declares that nine—tenths of
the Dissenters, numbering altogether about two millions, entertained the
same opinions.[173] All he asks for is, what the Queen had recommended
to parliament, peace and union. In such a case, “the concerns of
conscience would never make a rupture in civil society; men would be
gentlemen as well as Christians; they would be Dissenters, and yet not
Dissenters; and there would be conformity in civil ceremonies, though
none in religious. This would make the devil out of love with the
English climate, and the people would get to heaven with the less
interruption.”[174]

-----

Footnote 173:

  Defoe’s _Dissenter Misrepresented_.

Footnote 174:

  Defoe’s _Challenge of Peace_.

-----

Defoe was very far from being one of the mildest and most moderate of
Dissenters; and yet, who can carp at sentiments like these?

There can be no doubt that blackguards, calling themselves Dissenters,
annually joined in the profane, bacchanalian revelries of the
Calves—head Club; but, on the other hand, it is equally certain that
some of the High Church party, with a direct reference to the death of
King William being said to have been immediately occasioned by his horse
stumbling over a mole—hill, were accustomed to drink a health to the
“little gentleman dressed in velvet,”[175] and to the horse which so
fatally stumbled over the insignificant heap of earth that had been
raised by his proboscis.[176]

-----

Footnote 175:

  Chadwick’s _Life of Defoe_, p. 144.

Footnote 176:

  Defoe’s _Mock Mourners_.

-----

Defoe complains that the same party “endeavoured, by calumny and
reproach, to blacken the Dissenters with crimes of which they were
innocent;”[177] that “railing pamphlets, buffooning them and dressing
them up in the bear’s skin for all the dogs in the street to bait them,”
were published; “and that railing sermons, exciting the people to hate
them,” were preached. He says “they were threatened with the repeal of
the Toleration Act, blackened with slanders, and bullied with bloody
flags, defiances, and Billingsgate language from the press and from the
pulpit; their meeting houses were represented as houses of sedition, and
they daily suffered from the indignities of harebrained priests,
buffooning poets, and clubs of insolent pamphleteers.”[178]

-----

Footnote 177:

  _Inquiry into Occasional Conformity._

Footnote 178:

  Defoe’s _Challenge of Peace_.

-----

What was the result of all this? The greatest bitterness was created,
and pamphlets, full of scurrility and violence, literally swarmed. Among
the writers of these productions, Daniel Defoe was the most eminent. The
pamphlet which, above all others, occasioned the greatest commotion, was
his “Shortest Way with Dissenters; or, Proposals for the Establishment
of the Church.” This was published anonymously, and pretended to be
written by one of the High Church party, and to set forth their
complaints and wishes. The Church is said to have harboured Dissenters
too long, and to have nourished the viperous brood till they hissed and
flew in the face of the mother that had cherished them. The Church had
been huffed and bullied by the Act of Toleration, and canting synagogues
had been set up at its very doors. The Dissenters had butchered one
king, deposed another, and made a mock monarch of a third, and yet
expected to be employed by the fourth. If James I. had sent all the
Puritans in England away to the West Indies, the Church of England would
have been kept undivided and entire; but these Puritans, to requite the
lenity of the father, took up arms against the son, put to death God’s
anointed, and set up a sordid impostor who had neither the title nor the
understanding to manage the nation. Coming into power, they shared the
church lands among their soldiers, and turned the clergy out to starve.
During the reign of their own King William, they had crept into all
places of trust and profit, and had been preferred to the highest posts
in England; while, in Scotland, they had trampled down the sacred
orders, suppressed the Episcopacy, and made an entire conquest of the
Church. For such reasons, they ought to be rooted out from the face of
the land, and never would the nation enjoy uninterrupted union and
tranquillity till their spirit of Whiggism, faction, and schism were
melted down like the old money. It was true, that Queen Anne had
promised them toleration, but she had also promised to protect and
defend the Church; and if she could not effectually do that without the
destruction of the Dissenters, she must, of course, dispense with one
promise in order to fulfil the other. The Parliament, protected and
encouraged by a Church of England queen, had now the opportunity to
suppress the spirit of enthusiasm, and to free the nation from the
vipers that had so long sucked the blood of their mother. If they were
permitted to remain, they would corrupt posterity, plunder the estates
of the members of the Church, drag their persons to gaols, gibbets, and
scaffolds, and swallow up the Church itself in schism, faction, and
enthusiasm. If one severe law were made and executed, that all found at
a conventicle should be transported, and their preacher be hanged, they
would soon all come to church, and an age would make all parties one
again. Why should an enthusiast be less a criminal than a Jesuit? Why
should the Papist, with his seven sacraments, be worse than a Quaker,
with no sacrament at all? Why should religious houses be more
intolerable than meeting—houses? What with Popery on the one hand, and
schismatics on the other, the Church of England had been crucified
between two thieves. Now, let the thieves be crucified, and let the
foundations of the Church be established on the destruction of her
enemies.

Such is the substance of Defoe’s notorious pamphlet. For a time, and to
some extent, the High Church party believed it to be a genuine
production; and one of them, in a letter, declared that, next to the
Holy Bible and Sacred Comments, it was the most valuable thing that his
library contained, and he earnestly prayed that God would put it into
the heart of Queen Anne to carry its proposals into execution.[179] It
is certain that there was nothing in Defoe’s pamphlet but what had been
substantially enunciated from scores of High Church pulpits; but now
that it was published, and a national commotion was created, and
especially, as soon as it was suspected that the writer was not a
Churchman, but a despicable Dissenter, there was a pretence of the most
terrible indignation, and threats of the severest punishment to be
inflicted upon the audacious author.

-----

Footnote 179:

  Defoe’s _Dissenters’ Answer_.

-----

Defoe was suspected, and had to flee for safety. He was advertised in
the _London Gazette_, and £50 was offered by Government for his
apprehension. The advertisement describes him as “a middle—sized, spare
man, about forty years old, of a brown complexion, and dark—brown
coloured hair, but wears a wig; has a hooked nose, a sharp chin, gray
eyes, and a large mole near his mouth.” This advertisement is dated
January 10, 1703, the year in which Wesley’s letter was published.

Six weeks after, the House of Commons passed a resolution, “That this
book (Defoe’s) being full of false and scandalous reflections on
parliament, and tending to promote sedition, be burnt by the hands of
the common hangman in New Palace Yard.”

Meantime, Defoe was arrested, and, in July 1703, was brought to trial.
His sentence was to pay a fine to the Queen of two hundred marks; to
stand three times in the pillory; to be imprisoned during the Queen’s
pleasure, and to find sureties for his good behaviour for seven years.

In accordance with this sentence, on July 29, Defoe was placed in the
pillory before the Royal Exchange; on July 30, near the Conduit in
Cheapside; and on July 31, at Temple Bar. Such pillory exhibitions had
seldom been witnessed. On each of the three days, thousands of
sympathisers accompanied the condemned scribe from Newgate prison to his
place of shame, to protect him from hurt or insult, whilst his very
pillory was hung with garlands woven by the fingers of his friends.

The pen of Defoe was never plied more busily than while he was in
prison. He wrote more church defiances during his year of confinement in
Newgate than in any other year of his chequered life. Other persons were
equally busy, and in all forms of pamphlet, tract, and broadsheet, the
press poured forth its volumes of contention. All classes of society
seemed to catch the contagion. Dean Swift, in London at the time,
declared that the contention between Church and Dissent was so
universal, that the dogs in the streets took it up, and the cats debated
the question by night on the tops of the houses; yea, the very ladies
were so split asunder into High Church and Low Church, and were so warm
in their disputes, as to have no time to say their prayers.

It was in the midst of this excitement that Samuel Wesley’s letter was
published by Clavel, and that his controversy with Palmer took place.

But besides having Palmer for an antagonist, Wesley was attacked by his
old schoolfellow, the redoubtable Daniel Defoe. This was in a pamphlet
published in 1704, and which was probably written in Newgate prison. It
was entitled “More Short Ways with the Dissenters.” The Queen having
been obliged to dismiss her High Church Cabinet, on account of the storm
that had been raised by their attempts to pass the “Occasional
Conformity Bill,” and thereby to suppress the Dissenters, Defoe alleges
that now another scheme was being concocted for the accomplishment of
the self—same purpose. The “new attempt struck at the root of the
Dissenters’ interest. It would effectually destroy the succession of
them in the nation; for it was intended to prevent them educating their
children in their own opinions.”

He then adds, in reference to Wesley, “If I should say that a mercenary
renegado was hired to expose the private academies of the Dissenters, as
nurseries of rebellious principles, I should say nothing but what is in
too many mouths to remain a secret. The Reverend Mr Wesley, author of
two pamphlets calculated to blacken our education in the academies of
the Dissenters, ingenuously confesses himself guilty of many crimes in
his youth, and is the willinger to confess them, as he would lay them at
the door of the Dissenters and their schools, among whom he was
educated; though I humbly conceive, it is no more a proof of the
immorality of the Dissenters in their schools _that he was a little
rakish among them_, or that he found others among them like himself,
than the hanging five students of Cambridge, for robbing on the highway,
should prove that padding is a science taught in that university. He
takes a great deal of pains to prove, that in these academies were or
are taught anti—monarchical principles; but the author of these sheets
happens to be one that was educated under the same master that he was
taught by, viz., Mr Charles Morton of Newington Green; and I have now by
me the manuscripts of science, the exercises of Mr Morton’s school, and,
among the rest, those of politics in particular; and I must do that
learned gentleman’s memory the justice to affirm, that neither in his
system of politics, government, and discipline, nor in any other of the
exercises of his school, was there anything taught or encouraged that
was antimonarchical, or destructive to the government or constitution of
England. Allow, then, that Mr Wesley fell into ill company afterwards;
allow we had, and still have worse rakes among us than himself, does
this prove that our schools teach men thus, and that the Dissenters, in
general, profess principles destructive of monarchy?”

Defoe then proceeds to say, that the reason why Dissenters have erected
and opened private academies, to teach their children by themselves, is
because the Church party, by imposing unreasonable terms, have shut them
out of theirs. He states that, if they will admit the youth of the
Dissenters into their universities, without imposing upon them unfair
oaths and obligations, the Dissenters, though objecting to “university
morals, as to the _trifles of drunkenness and lewdness_,” yet, would
engage to have always as many as two thousand of their young people
students in these seats of learning.

The remainder of Defoe’s pamphlet is devoted to a violent refutation of
Sacheverell’s second sermon at Oxford; a sermon in which, he declares,
there are fourteen positive untruths, to the reproach of the preacher’s
coat, and the scandal of his ministerial function.

Mr Wesley, in his first reply to Mr Palmer, used the Latin line as his
motto, _Noli irritare crabones_. He wished not to irritate the wasps;
but whether he wished it or not, the thing itself was done. We have seen
what Palmer and Defoe say of him and of his unlucky letter; and, we are
bound to add, that others have been not less pointed and severe. Dunton
writes—“Mr Wesley’s first piece was a most unkind satire. The world had
not known him unless he had thought to make himself public. I am afraid
Mr Wesley’s vein has almost spent itself; the dregs come the last. His
taxing the morals and behaviour of the Dissenting ministers was a
malicious falsehood, published on purpose to carry favour with the High
Flyers, and to enlarge his preferments.” Chadwick, in his Life of Defoe,
broadly asserts that Samuel Wesley himself published his letter
respecting dissenting academies; and that his traducing the Dissenters
“was intended, through the royal patronage, to send this time—serving
flatterer into the archbishopric of Canterbury, upon the back of that
unprincipled miscreant, Dr Sacheverell.” Milner, in his “Life and Times
of Dr Isaac Watts,” observes—“It is difficult to shield Mr Wesley from
the charge of seeking to further the designs of tyranny by private
slander; and of endeavouring to enlarge a scanty income by gratifying
the heads of the Church, in vilifying the seceders from its communion.
There is too much reason to fear that hopes of preferment led him to
join the party of Sacheverell in the work of abuse and defamation. Mr
Southey says, the reason why he left the Dissenters, was his falling in
with bigoted and ferocious men, who defended the execution of King
Charles, and shocked and disgusted him by their Calves—head Club. The
only authority for this extraordinary assertion is the evidence of
Samuel Wesley, the younger, a violent Jacobite; and Mr Southey
introduces the statement into his pages as if no suspicion was to be
entertained of the truth of the facts it expresses. It may be true that
Mr Wesley was a member of the Calves—head Club; it may be true that he
frequented the blind alley, near Moorfields, on the 30th of January; but
it is not true that any other cause beside his own imprudence introduced
him into such society; it is not true that the scenes he there witnessed
led to his secession from the Dissenters; for they had no more to do
with such disgraceful proceedings than their accusers; so that, the only
inference we can derive from the representation of Mr Southey is, that
the elder Wesley, in his youth, associated with a band of profligates;
and, as extremes in politics often meet, the furious republican became
at last a blind worshipper of the royal prerogative.”

In these extracts, the reader has before him the substance of all the
charges which Dissenting ignorance and hatred have brought against the
character of this venerable man. It is scarce worth while to refute
them; for they are all in flat contradiction to the facts published in
the previous pages of this narrative; and yet, perhaps, a brief reply
may be of service:—


              CHARGES.                            ANSWERS.

 Defoe says that Wesley was a        Defoe gave utterance to a malicious
 “mercenary renegado.”               slander; in support of which he
                                     does not even attempt to adduce the
                                     slightest evidence.

 Defoe says that Wesley was hired to Who hired him? What was his
 expose the private academies of     remuneration? This also is an
 Dissenters.                         unfounded assertion, unsupported by
                                     a single particle of proof.

 Defoe says that Wesley ingenuously  All that Mr Wesley acknowledges is,
 confesses himself guilty of many    that he wrote some “silly lampoons
 crimes in his youth; and that he    on Church and State,” at the
 was a little rakish while he was    instigation and urgent request of
 among the Dissenters.               some Dissenting ministers, who
                                     ought to have known better than
                                     expose a youth from the country to
                                     such temptations. He further
                                     maintains that if he was not an
                                     “_exemplary_ liver” while with the
                                     Dissenters, he was, at least, not a
                                     “scandalous one.”

 Defoe says Mr Morton never taught   Mr Wesley says the same; and also
 antimonarchical principles.         adds, that whenever Mr Morton heard
                                     any of his pupils talking
                                     disaffectedly, or disloyally, he
                                     never failed to rebuke them.

 Defoe meanly insinuates that Mr     We have no account of his being in
 Wesley fell into ill company after  any ill company after he left the
 he left the Dissenters.             Dissenters, except on one occasion,
                                     when he was in company with a
                                     number of Dissenting scoffers at
                                     the Calves-head Club.

 Leaving Defoe, turn to Dunton. The  The Dissenter who purloined the
 latter says that Wesley’s letter    manuscript from under Wesley’s
 “taxing the morals and behaviour of pillow while he slept, and then
 Dissenting ministers was a          dishonourably read it, freely
 malicious falsehood.”               acknowledged that there was nothing
                                     in the letter but what was true.

 Dunton says that Wesley published   Mr Wesley did not publish it at
 the letter “to curry favour with    all. That was done by Mr Clavel,
 the High Flyers, and to enlarge his who published it without either
 preferment.”                        Wesley’s consent or knowledge.
                                     Besides, so far from it being
                                     intended to “curry favour with the
                                     High Flyers,” it was written at a
                                     time when Wesley undeniably
                                     belonged to the Low Church party,
                                     the head of which was the man he so
                                     greatly praised two or three years
                                     afterwards, viz., Archbishop
                                     Tillotson.

 Chadwick says Wesley published the  That is an unblushing falsehood.
 letter himself.

 Chadwick says Wesley traduced the   This provokes a smile, but is too
 Dissenters in order to become       absurd to deserve a serious answer.
 Archbishop of Canterbury.

 Milner accuses Wesley of seeking to Mr Wesley was an enemy of tyrants.
 further the designs of tyranny.     Witness what he said when James II.
                                     exhibited his tyranny at Oxford.

 Milner says that Wesley             Mr Wesley never intended his letter
 “endeavoured to enlarge a scanty    to be even seen by the heads of the
 income by gratifying the heads of   Church; much less hoped that,
 the Church in vilifying the         through them, it would be the means
 seceders from its  communion.”      of enlarging his scanty income.

 Milner says there is reason to fear Where is the reason to be found?
 that hopes of preferment led him to
 join the party of Sacheverell.

 Milner says that Samuel Wesley,     Samuel Wesley’s brother John says,
 jun., was a violent Jacobite.       “he was no more a Jacobite than he
                                     was a Turk.” (See _Gentleman’s
                                     Magazine_ for 1785, page 246.)

 Milner says that Samuel Wesley,     Nay; the story is recited by Samuel
 jun., is the only authority         Wesley, sen., in the Defence of his
 attesting the truthfulness of the   Letter, published by himself, in
 story about the Calves-head Club.   1704.

 Milner dishonourably insinuates     When Mr Milner wrote this, he knew
 that “it may be true that Wesley    that Mr Wesley was not a member of
 was a member of the Calves-head     the club; and that, so far from
 Club, and that he frequented its    frequenting its meetings, he was
 meetings on the 30th of January.”   never there but once, and then he
                                     came away disgusted.

 Milner says it was his own          Perhaps it was imprudent for him to
 imprudence that introduced him into have been in such a disreputable
 such society.                       place; but he left it, “indignant
                                     at the villanous principles and
                                     practices” he had witnessed: and
                                     never went again.

 Milner says it is not true that the No one says it was. He left the
 scene at the Calves-head Club was   Dissenters years before this. But,
 the cause of his leaving the        if the scene at the Calves-head
 Dissenters.                         Club was not the cause of his
                                     leaving the Dissenters, it was the
                                     cause of his writing his letter
                                     respecting Dissenting Academies.

 Milner says that he infers that     The only band of profligates with
 Wesley, in his youth, “associated   whom Wesley associated in his youth
 with a band of profligates.”        were the profligates at the
                                     Dissenting academies, and, in one
                                     instance, a band of profligates at
                                     the Calves-head Club, who called
                                     themselves Dissenters.

 Milner says the Dissenters had no   We do not, for a single moment,
 more to do with the disgraceful     entertain the thought that the
 proceedings of the Calves-head Club Calves-head Club had the
 than their accusers had.            approbation of the Dissenters as a
                                     whole, or of even any considerable
                                     minority; but still, there cannot
                                     be a doubt that the members of the
                                     club were men who considered
                                     themselves Dissenters,
                                     notwithstanding their utter
                                     unfitness to be members of any
                                     Dissenting Church.

We have thus fully stated all the hard things which Mr Wesley’s enemies
have thought fit to say against him, and, in this summary way, have
replied to them. Those who wish for further refutations must refer again
to the pages they have already read. Defoe’s accusation is calumnious
slander of the worst description. Chadwick is a man whose vulgar ravings
are hardly worthy of being noticed. The life of a man like Dr Watts is
blurred and blotted by such utterly false, if not malignant, charges as
those which the writer has brought against Mr Wesley. We have no quarrel
with Mr Milner on account of his attempt to show that the Calves-head
Club was an infamous association, which the Dissenting body, as a whole,
condemned; but he had no right to impeach the veracity of Mr Wesley,
and, by a mean insinuation, to try to cast upon him the disgrace of the
possibility that he himself was a member of this godless gang. That is
an ungenerous reproach, which none but an irritated man would have
ventured to employ. The barbarous Calves-head Club was a disgraceful
association, of which the great bulk of the Dissenters totally
disapproved; for it is cheerfully acknowledged that some classes of the
Dissenters were deeply averse to the murder of King Charles I., and were
among the first to welcome his son Charles II., to the English monarchy;
but while all this is most readily allowed, we submit that this is no
refutation of the statement that the members of that abominable club
declared themselves to be Dissenters; nor is it any excuse for Mr
Milner’s attack on Mr Wesley’s veracity, and especially for his unworthy
suggestion that Mr Wesley himself might be an associate of the
profligate fellows of which the Calves-head Club consisted.

Believing Mr Wesley to be unimpeachable in the painful business that has
been here discussed, and feeling that his character and rank in society
make it of some importance to keep his fair fame without a blot, we
offer no apology for this lengthened, and, perhaps, tedious chapter in
his history. Dr Adam Clarke sums up the whole in terms to which we find
it impossible to assent. He writes: “In the heat of his zeal for the
Church, after his conversion from dissenting principles, Mr Samuel
Wesley, in his controversial writings, often overstepped the bounds of
Christian moderation.” Did he? We have read the whole of his
controversial writings; and, finding no proof of this, we respectfully
doubt it.




                              CHAPTER XV.
                   THE IMPRISONED FATHER.—1705–1709.


It was about this period of Mr Wesley’s history that he wished and
proposed to go as a missionary to the East Indies. The only English
missionary society then existing was the Society for Propagating the
Gospel in Foreign Parts. This society was instituted by King William
III. in 1701, and had for its object the maintenance of clergymen in the
British plantations, colonies, and factories. It was managed by a board
of ninety persons, including the two archbishops, several bishops, and a
number of the nobility, gentry, and clergy.

Mr Wesley’s scheme was threefold. First, he proposed to inquire into the
state of English colonists, in all the English factories and
settlements, from St Helena to India and China; travelling wherever it
was possible to travel, either by land or sea; and where that could not
be done, making the same inquiry by means of correspondence from Surat,
which he seems to have intended to be his place of residence. He wished
to inquire into the number of the English colonists, their morals, and
their ministers; and to revive among them the spirit of Christianity, by
catechising, by good books, and by other means of the same description.

The second part of his scheme had reference to other Churches. He would
endeavour to open a correspondence with the Church of Abyssinia, or, if
the English board of management thought fit, he would try to pierce into
that country himself. He would also personally inquire into the state of
the poor Christians of St Thomas, who were scattered all over India, and
would settle a correspondence between them and the Church of England. He
also proposed to convey Protestant books among the Roman Catholics,
translated into the language of the countries where he found them
dwelling.

Then, in the third place, he would exert himself to benefit the heathen
natives. He would endeavour to learn the language of Hindostan, that he
might be able to reason and to preach to the people in their native
tongue, and so convert them and their Brahmins to the religion of Jesus
Christ.

He acknowledges that he is not “sufficient for the least of these
designs, much less for all together; but it would be well worth dying
for to make some progress in any one of them; and he would expect the
same assistance as to kind, though not to degree, which was granted of
old to the first planters of the gospel.”

He thinks that if the East India Company were made acquainted with his
scheme they might deem it worthy of encouragement; and he also hopes
that Queen Anne might be prevailed upon to grant it her royal favour;
but even should the Queen and the East India Company give him no
encouragement, he was still prepared to go on two conditions—1. That he
be allowed £140 a year; £100 of which he would devote to his own
expenses, and the remaining £40 to a curate employed to take his place
at Epworth. And 2. That, in case of his decease while upon his mission,
provision might be made for the subsistence of his family, they, of
course, being supported while he lived by the income of his rectory.

Such was Samuel Wesley’s noble plan to go as a missionary, for £100 a
year, to St Helena, Abyssinia, India, and China. Perhaps communications
from his wife’s brother, Samuel Annesley, jun., now resident in India,
might have excited within him some amount of interest in the welfare of
the inhabitants of that country; but, over and above all that, he was
animated with a zeal for God and a love for the souls of men which made
him willing not only to encounter hardship and danger, but even death in
his great missionary project. His father, John Wesley of Whitchurch, was
inspired with the same spirit; and, when forbid to preach in England,
longed to go to Surinam, in Guiana, or to Maryland, in America, as a
missionary among the English settlers there. The father’s heroic spirit
was the spirit of the son, and also of the grandsons, John and Charles,
who, full of zeal for the Most High, tore themselves from their friends
at Oxford, and, almost without scrip or purse, crossed the Atlantic to
preach the glorious gospel of the blessed God to the different tribes of
American Indians.

Samuel Wesley’s proposal was not adopted; but it was not on that account
the less honourable to his head and heart.

On the 5th of April 1705, Queen Anne dissolved by proclamation the high
Tory House of Commons, and, of course, this was followed by a general
election. Whigs and Tories now exerted themselves to the uttermost.
Party struggles throughout the kingdom were most vehement. The clergy
generally were in favour of the Tories, and took great pains to infuse
into the people tragical apprehensions, that, if the Whigs obtained a
majority, the Church would be in danger. The universities took the same
side of the question, and “the Church in danger” was the election cry of
the Tory party.

The contest for the county of Lincoln was extremely violent. The late
members, Sir John Thorold and Mr Dymoke, were Tories. Their opponents,
Colonel Whichcott and Mr Bertie, were Whigs. Mr Wesley was early and
zealously canvassed by both parties. At first, he promised to do what
was exceeding fair, viz., to vote for Thorold and Whichcott, and thus
give to each party the benefit of his example and of his influence. In
course of time, the party-cry reached the Isle of Axholme. Thorold and
Dymoke stood up for royalty and the Church; Whichcott and Bertie, both
Churchmen, threw themselves into the hands of the Dissenters. By the
Whig party, the Church, the clergy, and “the memory of the martyr were
openly scandalised;” and it now became a serious question with Mr Wesley
whether he should fulfil his promise to vote for a man whose party were
thus assailing the Church he so much loved; and, though it was “equally
against his inclination and his interest, he determined to drop both
when honour and conscience were concerned, and to vote for the friends
of the Church.” As soon as this was known, the Whigs loaded him and his
family with every kind of insult and persecution within their power. On
the steps of his own church, he was called “rascal and scoundrel;” but
we will permit him to tell his own story. In a letter to Archbishop
Sharpe, dated “Epworth, June 7, 1705,” he writes:—

“I went to Lincoln on Tuesday night, May 29th, and the election began on
Wednesday, 30th. A great part of the night our isle people kept
drumming, shouting, and firing of pistols and guns under the windows
where my wife lay, who had been brought to bed not three weeks before. I
had put the child to nurse over against my own house; the noise kept his
nurse waking till one or two in the morning. Then they left off; and the
nurse being heavy to sleep, overlaid the child. She waked, and finding
it dead, ran with it to my house almost distracted, and calling my
servants, threw it into their arms. They, as wise as she, ran up with it
to my wife, and, before she was well awake, threw it cold and dead into
hers. She composed herself as well as she could, and that day got it
buried.

“A clergyman met me in (Lincoln) Castle yard, and told me to withdraw,
for the isle men intended me a mischief. Another told me he had heard
near twenty of them say, ‘If they got me in the castle yard they would
squeeze my guts out.’ My servant had the same advice. I went by
Gainsborough, and God preserved me.

“When they knew I was got home they sent the drum and mob, with guns,
&c., as usual, to compliment me till after midnight. One of them passing
by on Friday evening, and seeing my children in the yard, cried out, ‘O
ye devils! we will come and turn ye all out of doors a begging shortly.’
God convert them and forgive them!

“All this, thank God, does not in the least sink my wife’s spirits. For
my own, I feel them disturbed and disordered; but, for all that, I am
going on with my reply to Palmer, which, whether I am in prison or out
of it, I hope to get finished by the next session of parliament, for I
have now no more regiments to lose.”

What had Wesley done to deserve outrages like these? He had withdrawn
his promise to vote for Whichcott, the Dissenters’ candidate, because
the Dissenters, for election purposes, began to abuse the Church, the
clergy, and the memory of Charles I. And, secondly, he had “concerned
himself in the election of the county, which he thought he had as much
right to do as any other freeholder.”[180] For this claim of freedom to
vote as he thought proper, the professed friends of freedom deemed it
their duty to subject him and his family to all this insult and injury.
Is it surprising that, after this, Samuel Wesley should look askance
upon his old friends, the Dissenters; and that, to some extent, he
should, as _Wesleyan_ biographers have stated, ally himself to the
opponents of Dissenters, the “High Flyers” of the Church of England?

-----

Footnote 180:

  Kirk’s _Mother of the Wesleys_, p. 89, 90.

-----

In the last sentence of the foregoing letter, there is an expression
which must be noticed. Wesley says, “I have no more regiments to lose.”
An explanation will be found in the following narrative:—

For above thirty years, John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, had pursued
the military life with amazing ability and success. He had married Sarah
Jennings, the companion of Princess Anne. On the accession of Anne, he
was appointed captain-general of the forces at home and abroad, with an
allowance of £10,000 a year. After a succession of marvellous victories,
he fought and won the battle of Blenheim, in August 1704. In this
battle, the French and Bavarians lost nearly forty thousand men, or
about two-thirds of their entire army. Thirteen thousand were made
prisoners, among whom were twelve hundred officers. Ten French
battalions were wholly cut to pieces; and thirty squadrons of horse and
dragoons were forced into the Danube, most of whom were drowned.
Marlborough took above one hundred cannon, twenty-four mortars, one
hundred and twenty-nine colours, one hundred and seventy-one standards,
seventeen pair of kettle-drums, three thousand six-hundred tents,
thirty-four coaches, three hundred laden mules, two bridges of boats,
fourteen pontoons, and eight casks of silver. His loss in killed and
wounded was twelve thousand. The hero received the thanks of both Houses
of Parliament; the city entertained him with a splendid feast; the
colours taken from the enemy were paraded from one extremity of London
to the other; the Queen gave to him and to his heirs for ever the manor
of Woodstock and the hundred of Wootton, and caused a palace, Blenheim
House, to be built for him. His prime fault was his avarice. “The desire
of accumulating money,” says John Wesley, “attended him in all his
triumphs, and threw a stain upon his character. In the whole, he
received above £523,000 of the public money, which he never accounted
for, and probably received some millions by plunder and presents.”[181]
He died in 1722.

-----

Footnote 181:

  Wesley’s _History of England_.

-----

Such was the man whose exploits Samuel Wesley celebrated in 1705. His
poem is a folio pamphlet of twelve pages, and is “dedicated to the Right
Honourable Master Godolphin.” With one or two exceptions, perhaps this
is the most finished poem that Samuel Wesley ever wrote. It consists of
five hundred and twenty-six lines, many of them containing beauties of
the highest order.

In consequence of this poem, the Duke of Marlborough made him chaplain
to Colonel Lepelle’s regiment, which was to stay in England for some
time; and a nobleman sent for him to London, promising to procure him a
prebend. All this, however, happened while he was in the midst of his
controversy with Mr Palmer, and the result was, his old friends, the
irritated Dissenters, who had powerful influence both in parliament and
at court, succeeded in preventing him obtaining the cathedral
appointment; and, also, soon worked him out of the military
chaplainship, which was actually given him.[182]

-----

Footnote 182:

  Whitehead’s _Life of John and Charles Wesley_.

-----

It is to the last of these mean and revengeful actions he refers when,
in the foregoing letter, he remarks “I have no more regiments to lose.”

Samuel Wesley’s dissenting controversy involved him and his family in
terrible trials. Some have been related, others yet remain. The
following letter to Archbishop Sharpe was written within a month after
the general election:—

                                   “LINCOLN CASTLE, _June 25, 1705_.

  “MY LORD,—Now I am at rest, for I have come to the haven where I have
  long expected to be. On Friday last, when I had been christening a
  child at Epworth, I was arrested in my churchyard by one who had been
  my servant and gathered my tithe last year, at the suit of one of Mr
  Whichcott’s relations and zealous friends, (Mr Pinder,) according to
  their promise, when they were in the isle, before the election. The
  sum was not £30; but it was as good as five hundred. Now, they knew
  the burning of my flax, my London journey, and their throwing me out
  of my regiment, had both sunk my credit and exhausted my money. My
  adversary was sent to when I was on the road, to meet me, that I might
  make some proposals to him. But all his answer was that, ‘I must
  immediately pay the whole sum or go to prison.’ Thither I went with no
  great concern for myself, and find much more civility and satisfaction
  here than in _bevibus gyaris_ of my own Epworth. I thank God, my wife
  was pretty well recovered, and was churched some days before I was
  taken from her; and I hope she will be able to look to my family, if
  they do not turn them out of doors, as they have often threatened to
  do. One of my biggest concerns was my being forced to leave my poor
  lambs in the midst of so many wolves. But the Great Shepherd is able
  to provide for them, and to preserve them. My wife bears it with that
  courage which becomes her, and which I expected from her.

  “I do not despair of doing some good here, and it may be, I shall do
  more in this new parish than in my old one; for I have leave to read
  prayers every morning and afternoon in the prison, and to preach once
  a Sunday, which I choose to do in the afternoon, when there is no
  sermon at the minster. I am getting acquainted with my brother
  gaol-birds as fast as I can, and shall write to London next post, to
  the Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, who, I hope, will
  send me some books to distribute among them.

  “I should not write these things from a gaol if I thought your Grace
  would believe me ever the less for my being here; where, if I should
  lay my bones, I would bless God and pray for your Grace.—Your Grace’s
  very obliged and most humble servant,

                                                        “S. WESLEY.”

Five days afterwards, the good archbishop wrote a sympathising letter;
but, at the same time, stated what he had heard against him. This letter
Mr Wesley answered; gave a satisfactory account of all his affairs, and
showed that the reports which had reached the archbishop were perfectly
false, and adduced proof of this. He then continues his letter as
follows:—

                                   “LINCOLN CASTLE, _July 10, 1705_.

  “MY LORD,—I am not forgotten, neither by God nor by your lordship. My
  debts are about £300, which I have contracted by a series of
  misfortunes not unknown to your Grace. The falling of my parsonage
  barn before I had recovered the taking my living; the burning of a
  great part of my dwelling-house about two years since, and all my flax
  last winter; the fall of my income nearly one-half, by the low prices
  of grain; the almost entire failure of my flax this year, which used
  to be the better half of my revenue; together with my numerous family,
  and the taking this regiment from me, which I had obtained with so
  much expense and trouble,—have at last crushed me, though I struggled
  as long as I was able. Yet I hope to rise again, as I have always done
  when at the lowest; and I think I cannot be much lower now.

  “Do not be in haste to credit what they report of me, for really lies
  are the manufacture of the party; and they have raised so many against
  me, and spread them so wide, that I am sometimes tempted to print my
  case in my own vindication.”

The party whom Wesley had opposed had prevented him obtaining a prebend,
had wrested from him a regimental chaplaincy, had indirectly occasioned
the death of his infant child, had loaded him with obloquy, and had cast
him into prison. Surely this was punishment enough for the publication
of his unlucky letter, and his two pamphlets in defence of it, and for
the vote which he had given at the general election of 1705. But not so.
Two months after writing the foregoing letter, be poured fresh sorrows
into the ear of his friend, the archbishop. He writes:—

                                  “LINCOLN CASTLE, _Sept. 12, 1705_.

  “MY LORD,—It is happy for me that your Grace has entertained no ill
  opinion of me, and will not alter what you have entertained without
  reason. But it is still happier that I serve a Master who cannot be
  deceived, and who, I am sure, will never forsake me. A jail is a
  paradise in comparison of the life I led before I came hither. No man
  has worked truer for bread than I have done, and few have lived
  harder, or their families either. I am grown weary of vindicating
  myself; not, I thank God, that my spirits sink, or that I have not
  right on my side, but because I have almost a whole world against me;
  and therefore shall, in the main, leave my cause to the righteous
  Judge.

  “A few weeks ago, in the night, since I came hither, my enemies
  stabbed my cows, endeavouring thereby to starve my forlorn family in
  my absence; my cows being all dried by it, which was their chief
  subsistence; though I hope they had not the power to kill any of them
  outright.

  “After it was done, to divert the cry of the world against them, they
  spread a report that my own brawn (boar) did this mischief; though at
  first they said my cows ran against a scythe and wounded themselves.

  “As for the brawn, any impartial jury would bring him in not guilty,
  on hearing the evidence. There were three cows all wounded at the same
  time, one of them in three places; the biggest was a flesh wound, not
  slanting, but directly in towards the heart, which it only missed by
  glancing outward on the rib. It was nine inches deep; whereas the
  brawn’s tusks were hardly two inches long. All conclude that the work
  was done with a sword, by the breadth and shape of the orifice.

  “The same night the iron latch of my door was twined off, and the wood
  hacked in order to shoot back the lock, which nobody will think was
  with an intention to rob my family. My house-dog, who made a huge
  noise within doors, was sufficiently punished for his want of politics
  and moderation; for, the next day but one, his leg was almost chopped
  off by an unknown hand.

  “It is not every one that could bear these things: but, I bless God,
  my wife is less concerned with suffering them than I am in the
  writing, or than I believe your Grace will be in reading them. She is
  not what she is represented, any more than I am. I believe it was this
  foul beast of a worse-than-Erymanthean boar, already mentioned, who
  fired my flax by rubbing his tusks against the wall; but that was no
  great matter, since it is now reported I had but £5 loss.

  “O my lord! I once more repeat it, that I shall sometime have a more
  equal Judge than any in this world.

  “Most of my friends advise me to leave Epworth, if ever I should get
  from hence. I confess I am not of that mind, because I may yet do good
  there; and it is like a coward to desert my post because the enemy
  fire thick upon me. They have only wounded me yet, and, I believe,
  cannot kill me. I hope to be at home at Christmas. God help my poor
  family! For myself, I have but one life, but while that lasts, shall
  be your Grace’s ever obliged and most humble servant,       S.
  WESLEY.”

Such were the sufferings inflicted by unrelenting enemies upon a man
with a sickly wife and eight young children. Such conduct was
outrageous, and admits of no excuse. Five days after the above letter
was sent off, the poor prisoner wrote another to the same excellent
archbishop:—

                                  “LINCOLN CASTLE, _Sept. 17, 1705_.

  “MY LORD,—I am so full of God’s mercies that neither my eyes nor my
  heart can hold them. When I came hither, my stock was but little above
  ten shillings, and my wife’s at home scarce so much. She soon sent me
  her rings, because she had nothing else to relieve me with; but I
  returned them, and God soon provided for me. The most of those who
  have been my benefactors keep themselves concealed. But they are all
  known to Him who first put it into their hearts to show me so much
  kindness; and I beg your Grace to assist me to praise God for it, and
  to pray for His blessing upon them.

  “This day I have received a letter from Mr Hoar, that he has paid £95,
  which he has received from me. He adds that ‘a very great man has just
  sent them £30 more;’ he mentions not his name, though surely it must
  be my patron. I find I walk a deal lighter; and I hope I shall sleep
  better now that these sums are paid, which will make almost half my
  debts. I am a bad beggar, and worse at returning formal thanks; but I
  can heartily pray for my benefactors; and I hope I shall do it while I
  live, and so long beg to be esteemed, your Grace’s most obliged, and
  thankful humble servant,       SAM. WESLEY.”

It is uncertain how much longer Mr Wesley was kept in Lincoln Castle;
but four months after this he was once more at his home at Epworth.
Archbishop Sharpe and others were extremely kind, and the following
additional anecdote of his Grace’s thoughtful sympathy, deserves
insertion. Mrs Wesley writes:—“When my master was in Lincoln Castle, the
late Archbishop of York said to me, ‘Tell me, Mrs Wesley, whether you
ever really wanted bread?’ My lord, said I, I will freely own to your
Grace that, strictly speaking, I never did want bread. But then, I had
so much care to get it before it was ate, and to pay for it after, as
has often made it very unpleasant to me. And I think to have bread on
such terms is the next degree of wretchedness to having none at all.
‘You are certainly in the right,’ replied his lordship, who seemed for a
while very thoughtful. Next morning he made me a handsome present; nor
did he ever repent having done so. On the contrary, I have reason to
believe it afforded him comfortable reflections before his death.”[183]

-----

Footnote 183:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_, vol. i. p. 391.

-----

Thus wrote Susannah Wesley respecting one of her husband’s friends. Hear
what she says respecting one of his enemies. “Last Thursday, (May 1706,)
a very sad accident happened here. Robert Darwin, a man of this town,
was at Bawtry Fair, where he got drunk; and, riding homeward down a
hill, his horse came down with him, and he fell with his face to the
ground, and put his neck out of joint. Those with him immediately pulled
it in again, and he lived till next day; but he never spoke more. His
face was torn all to pieces, one of his eyes beat out, his under lip cut
off, and his nose broken down. In short, he was one of the dreadfullest
examples of the severe justice of God that I have known. This man, as he
was one of the richest in this place, (Epworth,) so he was one of the
most implacable enemies your father had among his parishioners; one that
insulted him most basely in his troubles, one that was ready to do him
all the mischief he could; not to mention his affronts to me and the
children, and how heartily he wished to see our ruin. This man, and one
more, have been now cut off, in the midst of their sins, since your
father’s confinement.”[184]

-----

Footnote 184:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1846, p. 667.

-----

The heroic wife, during the rector’s imprisonment, evinced fortitude,
fidelity, and love, worthy of herself. Money she had none,—not a coin;
the household lived on bread and milk, the produce of the Epworth glebe;
but she did what she could to help her husband in his strait;—she sent
him her little articles of jewellery, including her wedding-ring; but
these he sent her back, as things far too sacred to be used in relieving
his necessities. Brave-hearted couple! The wife did her duty; but the
husband’s soul was far too noble to avail himself of such a sacrifice.

In his “Pious Communicant,” published in 1700, Samuel Wesley puts into
the reader’s mouth a beautiful prayer, which he had doubtless often
offered on his own behalf, and which, in his present circumstances, was
peculiarly appropriate. The prayer, for itself, is worth preserving;
and, in a narrative like this, is of some importance, as illustrating
the thoroughly devout and Christian spirit of this much-tried godly
minister. It is as follows:—

                “A PRAYER FOR ONE IN AFFLICTION AND WANT.

  “O God! who art infinite in power, and compassion, and goodness, and
  truth! who hast promised in Thy holy Word, that Thou wilt hear the
  prayer of the poor destitute, and wilt not despise his desire. Look
  down, I beseech thee, from heaven, the habitation of Thy holiness and
  glory, upon me a miserable sinner, now lying under Thy hand in great
  affliction and sorrow. I am weary of my groaning, my heart faileth me.
  The light of my eyes is gone from me, I sink in the deep waters, and
  there is none to help me; yet I wait still upon Thee my God. Though
  all the world forsake me, let the Lord still uphold me, and in Him let
  me always find the truest, the kindest, the most compassionate,
  unwearied almighty friendship. To Him let me ease my wearied soul, and
  unbosom all my sorrows!

  “Help me, O Lord! against hope to believe in hope! Grant that I may
  not be moved with all the slights and censures of a mistaken world.
  Let me look by faith beyond this vale of tears and misery, to that
  happy place which knows no pain, or want, or sorrows. I know, O Lord!
  that a man’s life consists not in the abundance of the things that he
  possesses, but that he who has the most here, as he brought nothing
  with him into this world, so he shall carry nothing out. I bless Thee
  that Thou hast not given me my portion among those who have received
  all their consolation here, whose portion is in this life only.
  Neither let me expect those blessings which Thou hast promised to the
  poor, unless I am really poor in spirit, and meek, and humble. I know
  nothing is impossible with God, and that it is Thou alone who givest
  power to get riches, and that Thou canst by Thy good providence, raise
  me from this mean condition, whenever Thou pleasest, and will
  certainly do it, if it be best for me. I therefore humbly submit all
  unto Thy wise and kind disposal. I desire not wealth or greatness.
  Give me neither extreme poverty, nor do I ask riches of Thee, but only
  to be fed with food convenient for me. I desire earnestly to seek
  first the kingdom of God and the righteousness thereof, well hoping
  that, in Thy good time, food and raiment, and all other things that be
  needful shall be added unto me. I believe, O Lord! that Thou who
  feedest the ravens, and clothest the lilies, wilt not neglect me and
  mine,—that thou wilt make good Thy own unfailing promises,—wilt give
  meat to them that fear Thee, and be ever mindful of Thy covenant. In
  the meantime, let me not be querulous, or impatient, or envious at the
  prosperity of the wicked; or judge uncharitably of those to whom Thou
  hast given a larger portion of the good things of this life; or be
  cruel to those who are in the same circumstances as myself. Let me
  never sink or despond under my heavy pressures and continued
  misfortunes. Though I fall, let me rise again. Let my heart never be
  sunk so low that I should be afraid to own the cause of despised
  virtue. Give me diligence, and prudence, and industry, and let me
  neglect nothing that lies in me to provide honestly for my own house,
  lest I be worse than an infidel. Help me carefully to examine my life
  past; and, if by my own carelessness or imprudence, I have reduced
  myself into this low condition, let me be more deeply afflicted for
  it; but yet let me still hope in Thy goodness, avoiding those failures
  whereof I have been formerly guilty. Or, if for my sins Thou hast
  brought this upon me, help me now, with submission and patience, to
  bear the punishment of my iniquity. Or, if by Thy wise providence Thou
  art pleased thus to afflict me for trial, and for the example of
  others, Thy will, O my God! not mine, be done. Help me, and any who
  are in the same circumstances, in patience to possess our souls, and
  let all Thy fatherly chastisements advance us still nearer towards
  Christian perfection. Teach us the emptiness of all things here
  below—wean us more and more from a vain world. Fix our hearts more
  upon heaven, and help us forward in the way that leads to everlasting
  life; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom with the Father and the
  Holy Ghost, be glory, honour, and power, now and for ever. Amen!”[185]

-----

Footnote 185:

  _Pious Communicant_, p. 189–193.

-----

Such a prayer as the above helps to supply the lack of a religious
diary; and so will the following extracts from letters written
immediately after Mr Wesley was released from Lincoln Castle. It ought
to be premised that all the letters were addressed to his son Samuel,
who was now sixteen years of age, and for two years past had been a
pupil in Westminster School:—

                                       “EPWORTH, _January 14, 1706_.

  “DEAR CHILD,—I now call you so, more on account of your relation than
  your age; for you are past childhood, and I shall hereafter use you
  with more freedom, and communicate my thoughts to you as a friend as
  well as a father. Most of what I write to you will be the result of my
  own dear-bought experience; and you may expect a letter once a month
  at least; and I hope, in mere civility, you will sometimes write
  again, unless my son, too, has made a vow never to write to me more,
  as I am sometimes inclined to think my mother has. If you think these
  letters worth preserving, you may lay them together, and sometimes
  look over them.

  “I shall begin, as I ought, with piety, strictly so called, or your
  duty towards God, which is the foundation of all happiness. I hope you
  are tolerably grounded, for one of your age, in the principles of
  natural religion, and the firm belief of the being of a God, as well
  as of His providence, justice, and goodness, (if not, look upon me,
  and doubt it if you can!) towards which you have had considerable
  advantages in your reading so much of Tillotson, while you were here,
  as well as in your mother’s most valuable letter to you on that
  subject, which I hope you will not let mould by you; I am sure you
  ought not to do it, for not many mothers could write such a letter.

  “Now if there be a God, as it follows that He is just, good, and
  powerful, so I leave it to your own thoughts whether it be not our
  clearest interest, as well as honour and happiness, to serve Him, and
  the greatest folly in the world not to do it. This service must begin
  at the heart by fearing and loving Him. The way to attain this happy
  temper is often to contemplate, deeply and seriously, His attributes
  and perfections, especially His omniscience, omnipresence, and justice
  for the former; and His beneficence and love to mankind to excite the
  latter, particularly that amazing instance of it—His sending His Son
  to die for us; which that pious youth, Charles Goodall, (who went to
  heaven not much older than you are,) could never reflect upon without
  rapture, as I find by his papers now in my hands, and which, perhaps,
  you and the public may sometime have a sight of.

  “Another way to preserve and increase piety is to exercise it in
  constant and fervent devotion. There never was a very good man without
  constant secret prayer; as I know not how any can be wicked while he
  conscientiously discharges that duty. If we make our less necessary
  employments take the place of our stated devotions—or, what is next to
  it, crowd them up into a narrow room—we shall soon find our piety
  sensibly abate, and all that is good ready to run to ruin.

  “With these are to be enjoined the daily reading of God’s Word, on no
  occasion to be omitted, and that with care and observation, especially
  such passages as more immediately concern your own case and the state
  of your soul.

  “Next to this, I can scarce recommend anything that would more conduce
  to the advancement of true piety than your Christian diary. I will not
  reproach you that a mother’s commands were more prevalent than those
  of a father, for your resuming and continuing it, since I am too well
  pleased that you have at last done it. This, with the exercise which
  you will have, will find you employment; and, therefore, you must be a
  good husband of your time, and fix certain hours for everything, not
  neglecting bodily exercise for the preservation of your health.

  “I have not time to close this head, but yet would not any longer
  delay to write. I commend you to God’s gracious protection, and would
  have you always remember that He sees and loves you. Your mother will
  write soon to you. We are all well.—I am your affectionate father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[186]

-----

Footnote 186:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1846, p. 50.

-----

The following is an extract from a letter written seven months after the
date of the former one:—

                                        “EPWORTH, _August 15, 1706_.

  “DEAR CHILD,—My last related to that part of piety which is to be
  exercised between God and your own soul. This will refer to public
  devotion, which is our due homage to Almighty God, and never ought to
  be neglected, unless in case of unavoidable necessities, as sickness
  and the like, and therefore not for taking physic, unless the case be
  very pressing; for you cannot expect to gain anything in your studies
  by robbing God of that small moiety of time. I understand you are now
  under the happy necessity of being always present at public worship,
  of which I am very glad; but then, you know, it is by no means
  sufficient to sit as God’s people sit, if our hearts be far from Him.
  There ought to be a due preparation of mind before you presume to
  approach the house of God. When you are entering, remember whither you
  are going; when present, remember where you are, and say, ‘How
  dreadful is this place!’ Always consider the sacredness of it, on
  account of its dedication and relation to God, and His presence in it,
  as well as its sacred uses; for I suppose you are hardly of the same
  mind with the rebellious assembly of divines, and I hope never will
  be, who, as impudently as falsely, affirm, that ‘no place is holy on
  account of any separation or dedication whatever.’

  “You will find the firm belief of God’s presence in His own holy house
  of prayer will be of great advantage to you in fixing your thoughts on
  the great work for which you come thither; which, as soon as you
  enter, and when you take your seat, you are to express in most humble
  adorations of body and mind, accompanied with some short prayer,
  either mental or vocal, suitable to the occasion.

  “When the service begins, you are to join with it, and go along with
  every part of it, with the utmost intension and most fervent devotion;
  for which end keep your eye fixed upon your Prayer-book or Bible, and
  let your eye go along with the priest, which will keep your thoughts
  from wandering.

  “I hope you understand the cathedral service—I mean, understand what
  they sing and say—which at first is something difficult. Unless you
  understand what is said, you might as well pray in an unknown tongue.
  On the contrary, if we do understand the service and go along with it,
  we shall find Church music a great help to our devotion, as it notably
  raises our affections towards heaven; which, I believe, has been the
  experience of all good men, unless they have been dunces or fanatics;
  nay, even the latter confess the same of their own sorry
  Sternhold-psalms, which are infinitely inferior to our cathedral
  music, as well as some thousands of years of later date, not being of
  two hundred years standing. We are not to think God has framed man in
  vain an harmonious creature; and surely music cannot be better
  employed than in the service and praises of Him who made both the
  tongue and the ear. I hope you are not so weak as to be moved by the
  wicked examples of idle lads who regard none of these things, or by
  their scoffs for your doing it.

  “You are to be very attentive to the sermon, because you know in whose
  name and by whose commission it is delivered; and that faith, and
  obedience too, come by hearing; this being God’s ordinance for the
  conversion of mankind and the Church’s edification. By practice you
  will be able to remember the principal parts of a sermon; which, with
  a little pains, will add an habitual memory to that good natural one
  wherewith God hath blessed you. When you come home, immediately
  retire, either into your closet, or else to some solitary walk in the
  park. There recollect what you have heard, and fix what is observable
  in your memory, especially what relates more immediately to yourself
  and to the state of your own soul. This will be of great advantage to
  you, on more accounts than one, for it will lay a good foundation of
  divinity, which study you must always have in your eye, as being both
  designed for it, and, I hope, inclined to it above any other.

  “Have a particular respect to the religion of the Sabbath, as all good
  men have ever had. Value highly that time, for as time, in general, is
  the most precious thing in the world, so this is the most precious of
  all others, and not designed for idle visits, but for the concern of
  our souls, and communion with God in prayer and praise, and other acts
  of piety and devotion.

  “I hope you dare not make any exercises upon it but what are proper
  for the day, such as Judge Hale did; but then, have a care lest, doing
  this as a school task only, it may not degenerate into formality. Rob
  not yourself of so much pleasure and profit as you will find in your
  translations of the Bible into verse, and Sunday exercises of the same
  nature, if you are but so happy as to reconcile fancy and devotion,
  which have too long been enemies.

  “I shall not write anything to you concerning receiving the blessed
  sacrament till towards spring; though I hope you frequently think of
  it and long for it, as the dearest pledge of your Saviour’s love,
  especially when you go home from church and see others stay to receive
  it.

  “And thus much, at present, of public worship.—I am, your affectionate
  friend and father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[187]

-----

Footnote 187:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1846, p. 53.

-----

Before proceeding to give further extracts from Mr Wesley’s letters,
there are two facts in the foregoing which demand attention.

The first is, that the rector was a passionate admirer of sacred music.
Of this there can be no doubt. In one of his articles, in the _Athenian
Oracle_, (vol. i. p. 393,) be strongly advocates the duty of singing
psalms in private families, and attributes the neglect of this to the
general decay of piety, though he admits that the faultiness of the
metrical versions of the psalms, and the ill choice of tunes, may have
had some influence in leading to such neglect. In another article, in
the same volume, (p. 440,) he says—“Nothing but a stock is proof against
the charms of music, and especially when good sense, good poetry, good
tunes, and a good voice meet together.” In another article on the same
subject, in vol. iii. p. 95, he strongly complains of Sternhold’s
version, and adds, in reference to the tunes, that most of them are so
vile that even Orpheus himself could not make good music out of them.
“This, and the reading them at such a lame rate, tearing them limb from
limb, and leaving sense, cadency, and all at the mercy of the clerk’s
nose, may be part of the reason why the Reformed Churches are yet most
remiss in psalmody.”

Is it too much to say that the marvellous musical genius of his two
grandsons, Charles and Samuel Wesley, was inherited from himself? So
remarkable was this talent for music that Charles surprised his father,
by playing, with correctness, a tune on the harpsichord before he was
three years old; while Samuel taught himself to read from Handel’s
oratorios; had all the airs, recitations, and choruses of “Samson” and
the “Messiah,” both words and notes, by heart before he was six years
old; and, when he was eight, composed and wrote his own oratorio of
“Ruth.”

The other fact, in the preceding letter, which deserves to be noticed
is, that Samuel Wesley recommends his son, as a Sabbath exercise, to
make “translations of the Bible into verse.” He was as fond of sacred
song as he was of sacred music. Besides his poetical “Life of Christ,”
he had already done what he recommends to his son Samuel, for, in three
volumes, he had turned the whole of the histories of the Old and New
Testaments into verse; and, though his eldest son did not adopt his
suggestion, it was substantially adopted by his youngest son Charles,
who, fifty-six years afterwards, published in two volumes his “Short
Hymns on Select Passages of the Holy Scriptures;” the hymns being two
thousand and thirty in number, all founded upon particular texts,
beginning with Genesis and ending with the Revelation of St John.

At the risk of being tedious, we cannot deny ourselves the gratification
of inserting the substance of two other letters, written by Mr Wesley to
his son Samuel, at Westminster School, in the same year as the above
were written, 1706:—

                                         “EPWORTH, _September 1706_.

  “DEAR CHILD,—The second part of piety regards your duty towards your
  parents, towards whom I hope you will behave yourself as you ought to
  the last moment of their lives.

  “Some people, who are either fond of paradoxes, or have imbibed ill
  principles from our modern plays and such like authors, may, for aught
  I know, be in earnest when they defend that most erroneous and
  unnatural principle that ‘we owe nothing to our parents on account
  that they are the immediate authors of our being.’ But these seem to
  forget that God himself, the common Father of the universe, urges this
  as an argument against the ingratitude of his people, ‘Is he not thy
  Father?’ &c. And again, in Malachi, ‘If I be a father, where is my
  honour?’ Perhaps you will think I am pleading my own cause, and so
  indeed I am, in some measure; but it is the cause of my mother also,
  and even your own cause, if ever you should have children, and,
  indeed, that of nature and civil society, which would be dissolved or
  exceedingly weakened if this great foundation-stone should be removed.

  “You know what you owe to one of the best of mothers. Perhaps you may
  have read of one of the Ptolemies, who chose the name of Philometer,
  as a more glorious title than if he had assumed that of his
  predecessor, Alexander. And it would be an honest and virtuous
  ambition in you to attempt to imitate him, for which you have so much
  reason. Often reflect on the tender and peculiar love which your dear
  mother has always expressed towards you; the deep affliction of both
  body and mind which she underwent for you, both before and after your
  birth; the particular care she took of your education when she
  struggled with so many pains and infirmities; and, above all, the
  wholesome and sweet motherly advice and counsel which she has often
  given you to fear God, to take care of your soul as well as of your
  learning, and to shun all vicious and bad examples. You will, I verily
  believe, remember that these obligations of gratitude, love, and
  obedience, and the expressions of them are not confined to your tender
  years, but must last to the very close of life, and, even after that,
  render her memory most dear and precious to you.

  “You will not forget to evidence this by supporting and comforting her
  in her age, if it please God that she should ever attain to it,
  (though I doubt she will not,) and doing nothing which may justly
  displease or grieve her, or show you unworthy of such a mother. You
  will endeavour to repay her prayers for you by doubling yours for her;
  and, above all things, to live such a virtuous and religious life that
  she may find that her care and love have not been lost upon you, but
  that we may all meet in heaven.

  “In short, reverence and love her as much as you will, which I hope
  will be as much as you can. For though I should be jealous of any
  other rival in your heart, yet I will not be jealous of her; the more
  duty you pay her, and the more frequently and kindly you write to her,
  the more you will please your affectionate father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[188]

-----

Footnote 188:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1846, p. 251.

-----

This beautiful advice was not lost. Samuel Badcock, (no great friend of
the Wesley family,) in the third volume of the “Bibliotheca Topographica
Britannica,” published in 1790, writes:—“I have in my possession a
letter of this poor and aged parent, addressed to his son Samuel, in
which he gratefully acknowledges his filial duty in terms so affecting
that I am at a loss which to admire most—the gratitude of the parent, or
the affection and generosity of the child. It was written when the good
old man was nearly fourscore, and so weakened by a palsy as to be
incapable of directing a pen, unless with his left hand. I preserve it
as a curious memorial of what will make Wesley applauded when his wit is
forgotten.”

The next letter is as characteristic and as full of interest as any of
the preceding:—

                                       “EPWORTH, _November 8, 1706_.

  “DEAR CHILD,—After piety to God and to your parents, your morals will
  fall next under consideration; or, your duty towards yourself and your
  neighbour.

  “I hope I need not say much of justice toward your neighbour. Its
  general rules are short and easy. ‘Doing as you would be done by, and
  loving your neighbour as yourself;’ principles which have been admired
  by wise and virtuous heathens when they have heard them from the
  gospel; and which are, indeed, inscribed on the hearts of all mankind
  as a part of the law—natural, though much obliterated by the lapse of
  our nature and vicious habits.

  “As for the regiment of your passions, all the rest depend, in a great
  measure, on these two—love and hatred, or rather anger.

  “As for love, I shall only say at present that whoever expects to
  become anything in the world must guard against anti-Platonic love in
  his youth, shut his eyes and heart against it, burn romances, have a
  care of plays, and keep himself fully employed in some honest
  exercise; and then, I think, he will be in no very great danger from
  it.

  “But love takes in all desirable objects, or such as we fancy
  desirable; and here the rule is, first, that it be fixed upon a lawful
  object; and then, that it exceed not the due measure; since, if we
  offend against the former part of this rule, it unavoidably renders us
  criminal; if against the latter, at least ridiculous, imprudent, and
  unhappy. Indeed, there is but one object of our love where we cannot
  transgress in loving too much; and that is God. Even mediocrity is
  here a fault, which is both our wisdom and our virtue in all other
  cases.

  “As for hatred, I can scarce tell how it is possible to have it in
  extremes against any one. For my own part, I have much ado to hate the
  devil himself. I am sure I have often pitied him; and I interpret
  those scriptures which speak of hating the wicked, &c., as relating
  chiefly to their vices, for which we ought always to have a just
  abhorrence.

  “Anger, and some sort of aversion, I own to be more difficult to
  subdue, though even these have too often pride or interest at the
  bottom. There never was a truly great man who could not bridle his
  passions. This, my boy, is what I wish you would do, what I am sure
  you may do, and what would render you wiser and greater than most part
  of mankind. This mastery of yourself will cost you some pains before
  you can attain it; but it is richly worth all your labour, since this
  wise and Christian temper will be so far from inviting injuries, that
  you will have much fewer offered you in the course of your life; and
  if any should be so devilish as to do it, for that very reason, you
  will find they will glide very gently off, and leave little or no
  impression behind them.

  “And thus much of the government of your passions.—Your affectionate
  father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[189]

-----

Footnote 189:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1846, p. 253.

-----

Such are a few of the godly letters that were written by the Epworth
rector immediately after his release from Lincoln Castle. We are loathe
to leave so much Christian serenity, fatherly affection, and manly
sentiment, for the region of strife and contest; and yet, to do justice
to the subject of these memoirs, we must.

It has been already shown how Samuel Wesley was, unintentionally on his
part, involved in the Dissenting controversy. It was most unwarrantable
conduct in Mr Clavel to publish a letter which the writer intended to be
kept private; but, being published, and being so savagely attacked by Mr
Palmer, there was nothing for it but for Samuel Wesley to defend
himself. This he did in his pamphlet, published in 1704. In 1705, Palmer
published his “Vindication,” in which Wesley was again offensively
assailed. Immediately after this, he was subjected to all the
disgraceful persecutions that have been narrated, and, as a climax to
the whole, was thrust, by a revengeful spirit, into Lincoln Gaol. He had
already begun his “Reply to Mr Palmer’s Vindication,” and, during his
involuntary leisure within his prison-house, he finished it. It consists
of 155 pages quarto, and was published “for Robert Clavel, at the
Peacock, in St Paul’s Churchyard, in 1707.” It has on the title-page,
for a motto, the following sentence from the writings of Defoe:—“How
long must we see the reproaches of our Establishment and the insults of
the laws, and be bound to silence, and to say nothing for peace’ sake?
How long must their false prophets and dreamers of dreams abuse us, and
we be obliged to hold our peace?”

The book consists of nine chapters and an introduction.

In the introduction, Wesley states that Palmer has charged him with
publishing “scandalous, wicked, malicious, envious, spiteful, injurious,
base, bold, daring, rampant, downright, positive, complicated,
abominable falsehoods.” He says Palmer regales him by applying to him
the epithets following:—“Cruel, unjust, wicked, silly, wretched,
flagrant, spiteful, impertinent, insidious, scandalous, impudent,
barefaced, perfidious, ingrate, sycophant, delator and informer.”

Wesley’s “Reply” was written at the request of his bishop, who offered
to assist him with materials for the work, and revised part of it before
it was printed.[190] It is elaborate and able; but a lengthened review
of it, at this period, would be useless. We content ourselves,
therefore, with giving a few matters of fact in the order in which the
book contains them.

-----

Footnote 190:

  Wesley’s _Reply_, p. 154.

-----

Wesley declares that the Dissenters were now “choosing lads of the most
pregnant parts, and were educating them at the public schools of the
Church, as St Paul’s and others, with the intention to transplant them
thence to Dissenting academies, and from thence into a martial phalanx
to attack the Church with greater success than their predecessors” (p.
7.)

In the 15th page, Wesley strangely enough “thanks God that the Act of
Uniformity is not repealed, and that all the strength of the Dissenters
cannot prevail to repeal it!” Remembering what his father and his
grandfather were made to suffer by that Act, one cannot help but think
that there is hardly good taste in this.

Wesley says he can give the name of a famed Dissenting minister who was
active in taking away all our legal securities, and caballed with those
who were favourites at Court. He and his proselytes met at a house not
far from the Poultry Church, whither many of the Dissenting ministers
usually resorted. When Wesley had just returned to London from the
university, those caballers used all the arguments they could think of
to persuade him to join them; but he writes:—“I thank God I abhorred
their proposals, and never saw them more, unless I accidentally met
them,” (pp. 62 and 63.)

Palmer, in his “Vindication,” had alleged that Benjamin Bridgewater, the
Calves-head poet, learned to sing “To Puss, Boys” in Trinity College,
Cambridge, thereby intending to cast a slur upon the reputation of the
Church. Wesley replies:—“I am sorry they won’t suffer poor Ben (my
successor in the favours of the party) to be quiet in his grave.” He
then proceeds to show that poor Ben, for bad behaviour, was forced to
leave Cambridge University some years before the song “To Puss, Boys”
was published, and that when he came to London he took sanctuary among
Dissenters, and wrote the anthems of the Calves-head Club, by which he
became the darling of the party, and was entertained and caressed at
their houses,(p. 65.)

Wesley declares that up to the time that his “letter” was published by
Clavel, and he published his “Defence,” his best friends were all
Dissenters, but that now he had lost their favour, because he could not
comply with their proposals to retract the truths that he had written
concerning Dissenting matters. He writes:—“You cannot say but that my
behaviour towards you has been inoffensive during the many years which
have elapsed since I left you. I have received common civilities from
some of your persuasion, and have, in my turn, obliged them as occasion
offered. I never desired your destruction, but your reformation. I
showed no great fondness to engage against you. It was a mere accident
that occasioned it, and I sent you fair warning long before I began to
write my defence. I am of no party that I know of, unless you reckon
those to be such who desire you should neither distress nor overtop the
Establishment,” (p. 73.)

Wesley says Palmer accuses him of bowing and cringing to the Dissenters
since he had joined the Church. He replies:—“I own this to be true, for
I have often asked my father-in-law’s, and my mother’s blessing, and I
did once bow down in the house of Rimmon; but for the rest nobody ever
accused me that my knees were _suppled_,” (p. 99.)

Wesley relates a story to the effect that on January 31st, 1698, which
happened to be Sunday, a clergyman near London was preaching a sermon,
from 1 Peter, ii. 13, in reference to the martyrdom of King Charles, and
that nine pupils from a neighbouring Dissenting Academy came to hear
him. After the service, a deputation of two of them waited upon him and
invited him to a noble entertainment to be given the same evening. The
clergyman refused. They then began to quarrel with his sermon, and said
Charles I. was “a cursed tyrant, and that his death was the just
execution of a damned malefactor.” The next day, the same clergyman
received a letter signed Timothy Greybeard, stating, that, if he had
gone as invited to the supper on the night previous, they would have
given him, as “the principal dish, the best calf’s-head they could have
procured for love or money; and that, if he had been inclined to drink a
health to the sanctified head, there would have been good humming liquor
to have washed his conscience in a few gulps,” (p. 100.)

Wesley acknowledges that, when he was a pupil in the Dissenting Academy,
three arch lasses made a fool of him by clothing him in a cloak, and
sending him through St Paul’s Churchyard to ask for Rochester’s “Divine
Poems;” but he indignantly denies that he ever kept any lewd company,
though he says it was “one of the happiest providences of his life that
he did not, and that he had a narrow escape from debauchery and ruin.”
He adds, “Though I kept no such company, I know too many Dissenters that
did, and know where they have made assignations with them, in your very
meetings, though it is possible that, in twenty years, those ladies may
be advanced to a more venerable character than they then possessed,”
(pp. 139 and 140.) He further states that the majority of the
Dissenters, with whom he had been acquainted, preferred a commonwealth
to a monarchy, abhorred the memory of Charles I., and the name and race
of the Stuarts; and that they could not deny that lewdness and
debauchery were not uncommon in their academies as well as in other
places, (p. 143.)

In closing the controversy, Mr Wesley says, that when he was last in
London, in January and February 1705, he was often ruffled by being
urged to retract, or at least palliate his charges against the
Dissenters; and that, as he was about to receive the sacrament, he wrote
the following protestation, and sent it to the clergyman who was to
officiate:—

  “I take this opportunity solemnly to declare, that what I have written
  in relation to the Dissenters, in my letter, and the defence of it, is
  strictly true, and that I have not wilfully charged them with anything
  that is otherwise.”

  Headds, “After the delivery of this, I bless God I _received_ with as
  great quiet and satisfaction as I hope I should die with, if God
  should call me to witness to the truth with my last breath.”

  “If in the heat of controversy I have unadvisedly used any expressions
  in this or in any other of my writings, that either may reflect too
  severely on a whole body of men, among whom I doubt not there are many
  who fear God and have a zeal for Him, though I think it is not
  according to knowledge, or which have not been agreeable to the spirit
  of Christianity and the example of my great Master, I do heartily,
  very heartily, ask pardon both of God and them, as I desire the same
  for my greatest enemies; and having written this, and again and again
  reviewed and weighed it, I am not much concerned for the consequence
  of it as to this world, but shall conclude as our Church does one part
  of our Litany, ‘In all time of our tribulation, in all time of our
  wealth, in the hour of death, and in the day of judgment—good Lord,
  deliver us.’”

We now subjoin two letters written by Mr Wesley in the year in which his
last controversial work was published. Both were addressed to his son
Samuel, now King’s Scholar, in Westminster School:—

                                        “EPWORTH, _October 2, 1707_.

  “DEAR SAM,—Read the histories of Joseph, of Daniel, and of Lot; and,
  if you please, the thirteenth satire of Juvenal.

  “Remember, God sees, and will punish and reward.

  “If you can get no other time to say your prayers, you may do it as
  you seem to be reading, for done it must be, or you know what follows!
  But have not you time when you sit up to watch?

  “That God may evermore preserve you, is the prayer of your
  affectionate father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[191]

-----

Footnote 191:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1846, p. 575.

-----

                                          “EPWORTH, _Dec. 29, 1707_.

  “DEAR CHILD,—I was pleased to see in your last that you expressed an
  inclination to repose a more than ordinary confidence in me. I have
  endeavoured to show that I really value your affection, and I should
  be very well satisfied if you looked upon me as your friend, as well
  as your father. Sammy, believe it, there are but few in the world that
  are fit to be trusted with our weaknesses and most private thoughts;
  and yet it is exceedingly convenient to have some one to whom one
  might safely communicate them, especially in youth, when first
  launching into the world. I know there are not many who would choose a
  father for this; but since you are inclined to do it, perhaps it shall
  not be the worse for you, and I will promise you so much secrecy, that
  even your mother shall know nothing but what you have a mind she
  should, for which reason it may be convenient you should write to me
  still in Latin.

  “It is agreed by all that a pure body and a chaste mind are an
  acceptable sacrifice to infinite Purity and Holiness; and that,
  without these, a thousand hecatombs would never be accepted. How happy
  are those who preserve their first purity and innocence; and how much
  easier is it to abstain from the first acts, than not to reiterate
  them and sink into inveterate habits! There is no parleying with the
  temptation to this sin, which is nourished by sloth and intemperance.
  You have not wanted repeated warnings, and I hope they have not been
  altogether in vain. The shortness, the baseness, the nastiness of the
  pleasure would be enough to make one nauseate it did not the devil and
  the flesh unite in their temptations to it. However, conquered it must
  be, for we must part with that or heaven! Ah, my boy, what sneaking
  things does vice make us! What traitors to ourselves, and how false
  within! And what invincible courage, as well as calmness, attends
  virtue and innocence!

  “Now, my boy, (it is likely,) begins that conflict whereof I have so
  often warned you, and which will find you warm work for some years.
  Now vice or virtue, God or Satan, heaven or hell, which will you
  choose? What, if you should fall on your knees this moment, or as soon
  as you can retire, and choose the better part? If you have begun to do
  amiss, resolve to do better. Give up yourself solemnly to God and to
  His service. Implore the mercy and gracious aid of your Redeemer, and
  the blessed assistance (perhaps the return) of the Holy Comforter. You
  will not be cast off. You will not want strength from above, which
  will be infinitely beyond your own, or even the power of the enemy.
  The holy angels are spectators, and will rejoice at your conquest. Why
  should you not make your parents’ heart rejoice. You know how tenderly
  they are concerned for you, and how fain they would have you virtuous
  and happy.

  “I cannot close my letter without adding something remarkable that has
  lately happened in our town (though it is not over-fruitful in
  adventures) which may afford you some useful remarks.

  “Your worthy schoolmaster, John Holland, whose kindness you wear on
  your knuckles, after having cost his father, Thomas Holland, two or
  three hundred pounds at the University, in hopes he would live to help
  his sister and brothers, and for want of which the poor old man now
  lies in Lincoln Gaol, without any hopes of liberty unless death should
  set him free; after having been in thirteen places, and pawned his
  gown and clothes almost as often, being thrown out wherever he came
  for his wickedness and lewdness—was making homewards about a month or
  six weeks since, and got within ten or a dozen miles of Epworth, where
  he fell sick, out of rage or despair, and was brought home to the
  parish in a cart, and has lain almost mad since he came hither. Peter
  Forster, the Anabaptist preacher, gave him twopence to buy some
  brandy, and thought he was very generous. His mother fell a-cursing
  God when she saw him. She has been with me to beg the assistance of
  the parish for him. What think you of this example?—I am, your
  affectionate father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[192]

-----

Footnote 192:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1846, p. 576.

-----

The above letter is a beautiful example of the loving confidence which
ought to exist between a father and his children. It also affords
incidental evidence, which refutes the commonly-received opinion, that
the early education of the Wesley children was devolved exclusively on
the mother. There can be no doubt that Susannah Wesley educated her
children up to a certain point, but who taught the sons and some of the
daughters the elements of Greek and Latin? From the foregoing letter, it
is undeniable that, though Susannah Wesley was a thorough master of the
English language, and had a respectable knowledge of the French, she was
not so familiar with Latin as to be able to read it without difficulty;
and, if so, there can be little question that, whatever knowledge the
sons, and two or three of the daughters had of the classic tongues, was
communicated by their father; for, though Samuel seems to have had a
half brutalized tutor for a time, there is no evidence that any other of
the children had a like provision. In the first place, the rector could
not afford it; and, secondly, there was no need of it, for he himself
was one of the best classical scholars of his day.

Wesley had now eight children, and two more were intrusted to him
afterwards. We have already sketched all that were born up to the year
1697. In 1701 the rector’s wife had twins, both of whom died in infancy.
In 1702 occurred the birth of their daughter Anne. At the age of about
twenty-three she married Mr John Lambert, a land-surveyor at Epworth.
Lambert was an educated man, and was particularly careful to collect the
early pamphlet publications of his father-in-law, Mr Samuel Wesley, from
which collection, and from Lambert’s manuscript notes, Dr Adam Clarke
derived considerable assistance in his compilation of the Memoirs of the
Wesley Family. Mr and Mrs Lambert, in 1737, were residing at Hatfield,
where they were visited by Charles Wesley. Lambert was betrayed into
drinking habits by his brother-in-law, the wretched Wright; but Charles
Wesley laboured to reclaim him, and it is hoped with good effect.

In the eventful year 1703, when Mr Wesley’s unfortunate letter was
published by Mr. Clavel, his son John was born; but of him we need say
nothing.

In 1705, the year that Mr Wesley was imprisoned, another child was born;
and, as already stated, was smothered by its nurse, and thrown dead into
its mother’s arms.

In 1707, the year in which Wesley wrote the preceding letters to his son
Samuel, his daughter Martha was given him. Martha was reputed, by her
sisters, to be the mother’s favourite; and certainly Martha loved and
almost idolised her mother. From her infancy she was remarkable for deep
thoughtfulness, for equanimity of temper, and for serious deportment.
Her brothers and sisters would use all kinds of witty mischief to ruffle
her; but in vain. The likeness between herself and her brother John was
so exact, that Dr Clarke declares, if he had seen them dressed in the
same attire, he could not have distinguished the one from the other.
Their disposition also was the same; and even their hand-writing was so
much alike that the one might be easily mistaken for the other. At the
age of thirteen, she went to live with her uncle Matthew in London, and
remained with him for the space of a dozen years.[193] Here she became
acquainted with Westley Hall, who was one of the pupils of her brother
John, at Lincoln College. Hall, at that time, was a man of agreeable
person, pleasing manners, and good property. He fell in love with
Martha, and made her an offer of marriage. Without consulting any of her
family she accepted him. Within a week he went with her brothers John
and Charles to Epworth, where he grew enamoured of her younger sister
Kezziah, made an engagement to marry her, and was on the point of
leading her to the altar, when a sudden qualm of conscience reminded him
of his previous engagement, and he came back to Martha. They were
married in 1735, (the year in which her father died;) and her uncle
Matthew gave her a dowry of £500. Hall, for a time, behaved like a
gentleman and a Christian, and honourably fulfilled his duties as a
curate of the Church of England at Salisbury. He then became a Moravian
and Quietist, an Antinomian, a Deist, if not an Atheist, and a
Polygamist, which last he defended in his teaching, and illustrated by
his practice. While a curate at Salisbury, he seduced one of his
servants, and was afterwards guilty of many similar infidelities. Once
when Charles Wesley was preaching at Bristol, and had his sister Patty
for a hearer, Hall came into the room and took her off with him. On
another occasion at Salisbury, he turned both her and her brother John
out of doors. Samuel Wesley, jun., never liked him. In a letter to John
he says—“I never liked the man from the first time I saw him. His
smoothness never suited my roughness. He appeared always to dread me as
a wit. This, with me, is a sure sign of guilt and hypocrisy. He was
afraid I should see it, if I looked keenly into his eye.”[194] After
being the father of ten children by his wife, nine of whom lie buried at
Salisbury, Hall abandoned his family, went off to the West Indies with
one of his mistresses, lived with her there till she died, and
afterwards returned to England, where, professing penitential sorrow, he
was cordially received by his injured and incomparable wife, who showed
him every Christian attention till his death, which took place at
Bristol, Jan. 6, 1776. John Wesley buried him, and says—“God had given
him deep repentance.”

-----

Footnote 193:

  This is taken from Clarke’s _Wesley Family_, but it is not correct;
  for, in her twenty-fourth year, she was at Epworth, where she was
  courted by her father’s curate, John Romley; and, at Christmas, 1723,
  when the Romley courtship was broken off, her father removed her to a
  situation in the family of Mr Grantham, of Kelstern.—See original
  letter in _Wesleyan Times_, Jan. 29, 1866.

Footnote 194:

  _Westminster Magazine_, 1774.

-----

Such was poor Patty’s worthless and vagabond husband; and yet, in the
midst of all her trials, she acted the part of a perfect Christian. Out
of sheer pity, she actually gave money to one of her husband’s abandoned
concubines; and, on another occasion, when he, with frontless
inhumanity, brought home one of his illegitimate infants, and commanded
his wife to take charge of it till he could make other provision for it,
she ordered a cradle to be brought, placed the babe in it, and continued
to perform for it all the requisite acts of humanity.

Mrs Hall often dined with Dr Johnson at Bolt Court; he ardently admired
her, and always treated her with great reverence and respect. In many
cases, her conversation supplied to Johnson the place of books; for her
memory was a repository of the most striking events of past centuries;
and she had the best parts of all the English poets by heart. Of wit she
used to say, she was the only one of the family without it; and her
brother Charles remarked that “Sister Patty was always too wise to be
witty.” One of her peculiarities was, she could never be induced to
behold a corpse, “Because,” said she, “it is beholding sin sitting upon
his throne.” Mrs Hall died on the 12th of July 1791, her last words
being, “I have the assurance which I have long prayed for. Shout!” She
was the last survivor of the original Wesley family; her father, mother,
brothers, and sisters having all died before her. In all respects, she
was a remarkable woman; but, in Christian charity, was pre-eminent. Her
brother Charles was accustomed to say, “It is in vain to give Pat
anything to add to her comforts, for she always gives it away to some
person poorer than herself.” In the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1791, p.
684, there is the following obituary notice:—“July 12, in the City Road,
in her eighty-fourth year, Mrs Martha Hall, widow of the Rev. Mr H., and
last surviving sister of the Rev. John and Charles Wesley. She was
equally distinguished by piety, understanding, and sweetness of temper.
Her sympathy for the wretched, and her bounty even to the worthless,
will eternise her name in better worlds than this.”[195]

-----

Footnote 195:

  See also the _Journals of J. and C. Wesley_; also, Clarke’s _Wesley
  Family_.

-----

In the year 1708, Charles Wesley was born, and two years afterwards
Kezziah, the youngest of the rector’s children that survived the days of
infancy.

Throughout life Kezziah Wesley’s health was delicate, in consequence of
which she was prevented from improving a mind that seems to have been
capable of high cultivation. When she was about nineteen years of age,
she became a teacher in a boarding-school in Lincoln, where she
complains of the want of clothes and of money, but wishes to remain for
the purpose of completing her education. She had an insatiable thirst
for knowledge, both divine and human; but her bad health rendered her
almost incapable of close mental application. We refrain from again
adverting to the distressing acquaintance with Westley Hall; suffice it
to say, that after this she for a time was boarded at the house of the
venerable Vicar of Bexley, the Rev. Mr Piers. She afterwards was
domiciled with an aunt at Islington, and her brother Samuel offered her
a home at Tiverton. It was not long that she needed the kindness of her
friends, for, at the age of thirty-one, she peacefully expired. Her
brother Charles gives the following account of her death:—“Yesterday
morning, March 9, 1741, sister Kezzy died in the Lord Jesus. He finished
His work, and cut it short in mercy; full of thankfulness, resignation,
and love, without pain or trouble, she commended her spirit into the
hands of Jesus, and fell asleep.”[196]

-----

Footnote 196:

  Whitehead’s _Life of J. and C. Wesley_, vol. i. p. 75.

-----

Such were the members of the Wesley family. “Such a family,” writes Dr
Clarke, “I have never read of, heard of, or known; nor since the days of
Abraham and Sarah, and Joseph and Mary, has there ever been a family to
which the human race has been more indebted.”

Charles Wesley tells us that he has heard his father say, “God had shown
him he should have all his nineteen children about him in heaven;”[197]
and there is little doubt that, for more than seventy years past, this
hope of the rector has been realised.

-----

Footnote 197:

  _Journal_, vol. ii. p. 272.

-----




                              CHAPTER XVI.
                        FIRE AND FURY-1709-1712.


On two previous occasions Samuel Wesley had been a heavy sufferer by
fire. In 1702, two-thirds of his parsonage was burnt; and, in 1704, all
his flax shared the same disastrous fate. Five years after this,
another, and even more serious, fire occurred. On February 9, 1709, at
midnight, when all the family were in bed, Hetty, who was now twelve
years old, was awoke by sparks of fire falling from the roof upon her
feet. On account of severe illness from which his wife was suffering,
Samuel Wesley was sleeping in a separate room. Hetty ran to alarm him,
and, at the same moment, he was startled by a cry of fire out of doors.
He hurried to Mrs Wesley, and bid her and her eldest daughters rise as
quickly as possible. He then burst open the nursery door, where in two
beds were sleeping five of his children and their nurse. The nurse
seized Charles, the youngest, and bid the others follow. Three of the
elder children did as they were bidden; but John was left sleeping. All
the family excepting him, a child seven years of age, were in the hall
surrounded with flames and unable to escape, the key of the door being
above stairs. Mr Wesley ran up and recovered the key a minute before the
stair steps took fire. The door was now opened, but the wind drove the
flames inwards with such violence that egress seemed impossible. Some of
the children now escaped through the windows, and the rest through a
little door into the garden. Mrs Wesley was not in a condition either to
climb to the windows or get to the garden door; and, naked as she was,
she was compelled to force her way to the main entrance through the fury
of the flames, which she did, suffering no further harm than the
scorching of her legs, hands, and face.

When Mr Wesley was counting heads to see if all his family were safe, he
heard a cry issuing from the nursery, and found that John was wanting.
He attempted to ascend the stairs, but they were all on fire, and were
insufficient to bear his weight. Finding it impossible to render help,
he knelt down in the blazing hall and commended the soul of his child to
God. Meanwhile the child had mounted a chest which stood near the
window, and one in the yard saw him, and proposed running to fetch a
ladder for his escape. Another seeing there was not time for that,
proposed that he would fix himself against the wall, and that a lighter
man should be set upon his shoulders. This was done—the child was pulled
through the window; and, at the same instant, the roof fell with a
fearful crash, but fortunately fell inwards, and thus the two men and
the rescued child were saved from perishing. When the child was taken to
an adjoining house where his father was, the devout rector cried, “Come,
neighbours, let us kneel down; let us give thanks to God; He has given
me all my eight children; let the house go; I am rich enough.”

The next day, as he was walking in his garden, and mournfully surveying
the ruins of his house, he descried part of a leaf of his Polyglott
Bible, on which the only words legible were: “Vade, vende omnia quae
habes, et attolle crucem, et sequere me.” “Go, sell all that thou hast;
and take up thy cross, and follow me.”

The house, the furniture, and the rector’s library were burnt; but
perhaps the severest loss, at least to posterity, was the destruction of
manuscripts. This included Mr Wesley’s long-continued literary
correspondence, the writings of his wife, and many important papers
relative to the Annesley family, and particularly to Dr Annesley
himself;—papers which the doctor had intrusted to Mrs Wesley as his best
beloved child. Besides these, all the sermons of the rector were
consumed, and likewise a large and important manuscript on Hebrew
poetry, in which he had turned the book of Psalms, and all the Hebrew
hymns in the Pentateuch, and in the book of Judges, into verse.

A few small mementoes of this terrible calamity were preserved, and
among others a hymn, written by Samuel Wesley, with music adapted,
probably by Henry Purcell or Dr Blow. This hymn is the only one, by the
rector of Epworth, that finds a place in the Methodist Hymn-Book, and
there even it is curtailed. We present it to the reader complete.

              “Behold the Saviour of mankind
                Nail’d to the shameful tree!
              How vast the love that Him inclined
                To bleed and die for thee!

              “Though far unequal our low praise
                To Thy vast sufferings prove,
              O Lamb of God, thus all our days
                Thus will we grieve and love.

              “Hark, how He groans! while nature shakes,
                And earth’s strong pillars bend;
              The temple’s veil in sunder breaks;
                The solid marbles rend.

              “’Tis done! the precious ransom’s paid;
                “Receive My soul,” He cries:
              See where He bows His sacred head!
                He bows His head and dies!

              “But soon he’ll break death’s envious chain,
                And in full glory shine:
              O Lamb of God! was ever pain,
                Was ever love like Thine!

              “Thy loss our ruins did repair,
                Death, by Thy death, is slain;
              Thou wilt at length exalt us where
                Thou dost in glory reign.”

Samuel Wesley himself wrote an account of this dire disaster to his old
patron, the Duke of Buckingham; and that account contains some
particulars not included in the preceding statement, taken from the
description furnished by his wife. He says, that on the day when the
fire occurred they had been brewing, but had finished the operation at
least six hours before the flames broke out. He was in his study till
half-past ten o’clock, but neither saw nor smelled anything of fire. The
reason why he slept in a room separate from his wife was because she was
near her confinement. Her daughters, Emilia and Susannah, were sleeping
with her. When he was aroused by the cry of fire, he ran to her room
with his nightgown and one stocking on, and his breeches in his hand.
They had about £20, in gold and silver, in the room occupied by Mrs
Wesley, which she wanted to take with her; but there was no time for
this, and she had to escape for her life as she left her bed. The whole
family had to flee in nothing but their night-dresses. While the nurse
was escaping with the infant child, Charles, in her arms, she was
saluted with a curse by one of the neighbours, and told that they had
fired the house themselves, the second time, on purpose. While Wesley
was running about the street, inquiring for his wife and children, he
met the chief man and chief constable of the town going from the house,
not towards it. Wesley took him by the hand and said, “God’s will be
done!” His surly answer was, “Will you never have done with your tricks?
You fired your house once before. Did you not get money enough by it
then that you have done it again?” Wesley replied, “God forgive you! I
find you are chief, Maw, still.” When he found his wife she was almost
speechless. She had waded, at the peril of her life, through two or
three yards of flame, having nothing on but her shoes and a wrapping
gown, and a loose coat, which she held about her breast. He adds, “When
poor Jackey was saved, I could not believe it till I had kissed him two
or three times. My wife said, ‘Are your books safe?’ I told her it was
not much, now she and all the rest were preserved alive. A little lumber
was saved below stairs; but not one rag or leaf above. We found some of
the silver in a lump, which I shall send up to Mr Hoare to sell for me.
Mr Smith, of Gainsborough, and others, have sent for some of my
children. I want nothing, having above half my barley safe in my barns
unthrashed. I had finished my alterations in the ‘Life of Christ’ a
little while since, and transcribed three copies of it; but all is lost.
God be praised! I know not how to write to my poor boy Samuel; and yet I
must, or else he will think we are all lost. I hope my wife will recover
and not miscarry, but God will give me my nineteenth child. She has
burnt her legs; but they mend. When I came to her her lips were black. I
did not know her. Some of the children are a little burnt, but not hurt
or disfigured. I only got a small blister on my hand. The neighbours
send us clothes, for it is cold without them.”[198]

-----

Footnote 198:

  _C. Wesley’s Life_, vol. ii. p. 493.

-----

How are we to account for these repeated fires at the Epworth parsonage?
Were they the effect of design or of accident? Mr Maw, the chief man of
the town, who more than thirty years afterwards seems to have been a
friend to John Wesley, and to one of his itinerants, (_see_ Wesley’s
_Works_, vol. i. pp. 438 and 485; also, vol. ii. p. 45,) most cruelly
charged Mr Wesley with setting fire to the house himself. A more
atrocious accusation could not have been cast upon him. What reason on
earth was there to induce such a man to commit such an act? It is true,
he might expect money to be given to rebuild his house; but was that
sufficient to induce a man of Wesley’s high character to destroy not
only all his furniture, but his books, sermons, and manuscripts; to run
the risk of killing himself, his wife, and his eight children; and, at
the least, to leave the whole of them, in the depth of winter, without a
shred of clothing, and without a hut to shelter them; the whole family,
to use the rector’s own language, being reduced, in regard to house,
furniture, and clothes, to the same state as that in which “Adam and Eve
were when they first set up housekeeping?” To suppose the very
possibility of such a thing is a most monstrous outrage against reason
and common sense; and when such an accusation was made by “the chief man
of the town,” and by the foul-mouthed blasphemer that cursed the
nursemaid and little Charles, one cannot help suspecting that this was
done, not because they thought the rector guilty, but in order to hide
the guilt of the execrable villains whom they knew or suspected to be
the actual perpetrators of the deed.

If Wesley, then, was not himself the incendiary, was the fire an
accident? This also is unlikely. The fire did not occur in summer, when
a spark might ignite the thatch, but in winter, when the thatch was
saturated with rain, and snow. It occurred not in the day time, but at
the hour of midnight, when all the fires of the house were extinguished.
It broke out not in the lower part of the house, but in the roof of the
corn-chamber,[199] filled with wheat and other grain,[200] and therefore
must have been lighted from without. Wesley supposes the possibility of
the chimney having taken fire; but, as a set-off against such a
supposition, he adds that the chimney had recently been swept, and that
when he went to bed, about half an hour before the flames were seen, he
neither saw nor smelled anything of fire. Put all these facts together,
and the conclusion is almost inevitable that the house was not fired
either by Wesley himself, or by accident. If, then, the house was not
fired by the rector himself, nor yet by accident, how did the disaster
happen? John Wesley, and probably his father, held the opinion that the
house was designedly set on fire by some of Mr Wesley’s enemies. What
evidence is there in favour of this opinion?

-----

Footnote 199:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1846, p. 1087.

Footnote 200:

  _C. Wesley’s Life_, vol. ii., p. 495.

-----

First of all, there is the fact that, during the last six years, Mr
Wesley had taken a prominent part in the great controversy of the
period,—the exceedingly bitter controversy between the Dissenters and
the High-Church party of the Church of England. This had made him many
enemies.

Secondly, he had, four years before, in the severely contested county
election, incurred great opprobrium, and not a little danger, by voting
for the Tory and High-Church candidates.

Thirdly, he had to deal with dishonest parishioners, and did not always
treat them with the utmost discretion. Take a case in point. Many of the
parishioners gave him trouble about his tithes, and, at one time, would
only pay in kind. Going into a field where the tithe corn was already
separated from the rest, Mr Wesley found the farmer very deliberately
cutting off the ears of corn from Wesley’s tithe sheaves, and putting
them into a bag. Wesley walked up to him, but, instead of accusing him
of his shabby theft, took him by the arm, and walked with him into
Epworth. Reaching the market-place, the rector suddenly seized the
farmer’s bag, and turning it inside out before all the people, told them
of the petty pilfering of which the farmer had been guilty. He then left
him, with his scattered spoils, to the judgment of his neighbours, and,
with the utmost composure, went home to his wife and family. The
beggarly thief richly deserved such a withering exposure; but such
treatment was likely to turn such delinquents into most insatiable
enemies.[201]

-----

Footnote 201:

  Moore’s _Life of J. Wesley_, vol. i. p. 112.

-----

Fourthly, added to all this, it must be borne in mind that, at this
period, the people in the neighbourhood of Epworth, and living in the
Isle of Axholme, were little better than Christian savages, and that it
was no unusual thing for them to vent their hatred by burning the crops
and the farm-steads of those whom they regarded as their enemies. A few
years before the burning of the parsonage, a Mr Reading, with
commendable spirit, had enclosed about a thousand acres of Epworth manor
with a good substantial fence, and had ploughed it, and used other means
to make it productive; and, for this enterprising act and for other
reasons, the half-brutal inhabitants assaulted him and his servants
wherever they had a chance, and even fired guns at them. They destroyed
all Mr Reading’s out-buildings and his tenants’ houses; they chipped his
fruit-trees, burnt his fences, and turned his cattle into his standing
corn; and finally they fired his house, with the intention of burning
him, his wife, and his children in their beds. This lawless mob was
headed by a furious, termagant woman, called Popplewell; and she and
some others of her companions were indicted at Lincoln assizes, in 1694,
and were convicted, but, strangely enough, were allowed to escape
punishment by the payment of a paltry fine.

Mr Reading, after this, rebuilt his burnt house at a short distance from
the site of the former one; but no sooner was it finished than it was
set on fire during the night, the key-holes of the doors being filled
with clay to prevent the family making their escape. This was in April
1697; and two months afterwards, as though it was not enough to burn a
man’s house twice over, the rioters proceeded to pull down his farm
buildings, broke his lead pump in pieces, cut down his orchard, and
burnt all his implements of husbandry.[202] One reason assigned for all
this lawless outrage was that Mr Reading had been appointed to collect
the rents of the sixty thousand acres of swamps in the Isle of Axholme,
which, at an expense of £56,000, had been drained during the reign of
Charles 1., and on which recovered lands about two hundred Dutch
families and a number of French Protestants had settled. For more than
fifty years tumults were continual; and, in 1702, Mr Reading drew up a
memorial, in which he mentions his “having provided horses, arms, and
necessaries, with twenty hired men, and often more,” to maintain the
peace; and, that “after thirty-one set battles,” he had reduced the
riotous inhabitants to obedience. Proceedings in Chancery were
instituted, but these unhappy disputes, respecting the proprietaryship
of the soil, were not finally adjusted till 1719.[203]

-----

Footnote 202:

  Stonehouse’s _History of Axholme_.

Footnote 203:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1845, p. 148.

-----

It was among such half-civilised savages that Samuel Wesley lived and
laboured. No wonder that, as in the case of his neighbour Mr Reading,
his house and premises should be set on fire once and again within the
space of seven short years. At that period this was the way in which the
men of the Isle of Axholme displayed and gratified their malignant and
revengeful feeling.

The second burning of Mr Wesley’s parsonage was a terrible calamity.
Apart from the loss of his furniture, books, and manuscripts, it was a
serious trial for himself, his pregnant wife, and his seven children, to
be left without a home, and almost without a rag to hide their
nakedness. The children were divided among their neighbours, relatives,
and friends, Matthew Wesley, the surgeon, taking two, Susannah and
Mehetabel. The rector and his wife, of course, had to remain at Epworth,
and provide for themselves in the best way they could. The house was
rebuilt within a year after it was burnt; but the rector was so
impoverished that thirteen years afterwards his wife declares that the
house was still not half furnished, and that to that very day she and
her children had not more than half enough of clothing.[204] No wonder;
for, in the self-same letter, Mrs Wesley expressly states that, after
deducting “taxes, poor assessments, sub-rents, tenths, procurations, and
synodals,” the Epworth living brought them not more than about £130 a
year. Out of that amount the rector had to re-furnish his house,
re-stock his library, find food and clothing for a family of ten or
twelve, and provide the best education for his children that he could.

-----

Footnote 204:

  Moore’s _Life of J. Wesley_, vol. i. p. 565.

-----

The new parsonage was a great improvement upon the old thatched building
that was burnt. It is thus described by Dr Adam Clarke, who visited it
one hundred and eleven years after it was built:—“It is a large, plain
mansion, built of brick, with a canted roofed and tiled; a complete
old-fashioned family house, and very well suited for nineteen children.
The attic floor is entirely from end to end of the whole building; the
floor terraced, and evidently designed for a repository of the tithe
corn, and where it would be kept cool and safe. In the churchyard there
is a sycamore tree, which was planted by the hand of old Samuel Wesley,
and which is exactly two fathoms in circumference. It is become hollow
at the root, and is decaying fast. It is well grown, and has shot out
strong and powerful boughs, but some have already dropt off, and, after
a few more years, it will have neither root nor branch.”

This was in 1821. Dr A. Clarke represents the people of Epworth, at that
time, as having “but little polish, but no boorishness in their
manners.” They appeared to be good-natured, simple, sincere, humble, and
singularly modest, and retained “the manners of the better part of the
peasants of two hundred years ago,” so that, of course, in the doctor’s
estimation, they were still, notwithstanding all their improvements, two
hundred years behind their age. The doctor, however, was highly
gratified with his visit; brought away with him a pair of fire-tongs
which had once been the property of Samuel Wesley; and mentions a fact
unparalleled in his travellings, viz., that, on leaving Epworth, he “had
no road for upwards of forty miles, but travelled through fields of
corn, wheat, rye, potatoes, barley, and turnips, often crushing them
under the carriage wheels.” Even as late as 1821, there seems to have
been no better road to Epworth than this.[205]

-----

Footnote 205:

  _Life of Dr Clarke_, by a member of his family, vol. ii. p. 402.

-----

In the same year that the Epworth parsonage was burnt, great excitement
was created in the nation by two turbulent sermons preached by Dr Henry
Sacheverell, one at Derby, the other at St Paul’s.

Henry Sacheverell was ten years younger than Samuel Wesley. He obtained
the rudiments of education from a village schoolmaster, at the cost of
an apothecary, on whose death, his widow sent the youth to Magdalene
College, Oxford. Here he distinguished himself by some clever poems in
Latin; was chosen fellow of his college, and became tutor to several
pupils who afterwards attained great eminence. His first preferment in
the Church was to the living of Cannock, in Staffordshire; whence he
removed, in 1705, to St Saviour’s, Southwark. Four years after his
removal hither, he preached the sermons already mentioned. The sermon at
Derby, was preached at the assizes, August 15, 1709, and is entitled,
“The Communication of Sin, a Sermon, by Henry Sacheverell, D.D.;
published at the request of the gentlemen of the grand jury, London,
1709.” The text is, “Neither be partakers of other men’s sins.” One
extract from the sermon must suffice. Speaking of men propagating sin by
pernicious writings, he says:—

“How do these execrable miscreants, Arius and Socinus, though so many
years rotten in their graves, still stink above ground, and live again
in a hellish transmigration of their damnable blasphemies and heresies!
How do those Atheistical monsters, Hobbes and Spinoza, in their accursed
books and proselytes, still deny the God that made them! What a magazine
of sin, what an inexhaustible fund of debauchery and destruction does
any author of heresy, schism, or immorality, set up! Who would have
thought, threescore years ago, that the romantic and silly enthusiasms
of such an illiterate and scandalous wretch as George Fox should, in the
small compass even of our own memory, gain such mighty ground, captivate
so many fools, and damn them with diabolical inspiration and nonsensical
cant? Or, to go higher, who would have thought that two or three
Jesuits, in masquerade, crept into a conventicle, should sow those
schismatical seeds of faction and rebellion, that, in a few years,
should rise to that prodigious degree, as to be able to grasp the crown,
contend with the sceptre and not only threaten, but accomplish the
downfall of both Church and State? And are not the same hands at work
again? Were ever such outrageous blasphemies against God and all
religion vented publicly with impunity as at present in our own Church
and kingdom?”

The sermon at St Paul’s was preached on the 5th of November 1709, and is
entitled, “The Perils of False Brethren, both in Church and State.” It
is dedicated “To the Right Honourable Sir Samuel Garrard, Lord Mayor of
the City of London.” The sermon is long, able, and eloquent; but, at the
same time, rabid and almost frantic. The following are specimens:—

Speaking of the Church of England, he says: “Her holy communion has been
rent and divided by factions and schismatical impostors; her pure
doctrine has been corrupted and defiled; her primitive worship and
discipline profaned and abused; her sacred orders denied and vilified;
her priests and professors calumniated, misrepresented, and ridiculed;
her altars and sacraments prostituted to hypocrites, Deists, Socinians,
and Athiests; and all this done, not only by our professed enemies, but,
which is worse, by our pretended friends and false brethren.”

Having laid down the doctrine of “absolute and unconditional obedience
to kings in all things lawful,” he proceeds to say: “This fundamental
doctrine, notwithstanding its divine sanction, is now, it seems, quite
exploded and ridiculed out of countenance, as an unfashionable,
superannuated, nay, as a dangerous tenet, utterly inconsistent with the
right, liberty, and property of the people, who have the power invested
in them to cancel their allegiance at pleasure, and to call their
sovereign to account for high-treason against his supreme subjects; yea,
to dethrone and murder him for a criminal, as they did the royal martyr,
by a judiciary sentence. God be thanked, these damnable positions, let
them come from Rome or from Geneva, from the pulpit or the press, are
condemned for rebellion and high-treason. Where is the difference
betwixt the power granted the people to judge and dethrone their
sovereigns for any cause they think fit, and the no less usurped power
of the Pope to solve the people from their allegiance, and to dispose of
sceptres and diadems whenever he thinks it his interest to pluck them
from his enemies? If such a deposing power is to be intrusted into the
hands of mortals, less inconvenience will ensue in placing it in one
than in many. Our crown and constitution can never be safe under such
precarious dependencies and despotic imaginations. A prince will be the
breath of his subjects’ nostrils, to be blown in or out at their caprice
and pleasure, and a worse vassal than the meanest of his guards. Such
villainous and seditious principles as these, demand a confutation from
that government they so insolently threaten and arraign, and are only
proper to be answered by that sword they would make our princes bear in
vain, by the so long-called-for censure of an ecclesiastical synod, and
the correction of a provoked and affronted legislature, to whose strict
justice and undeserved mercy I commit both them and their authors.”

Again, speaking of the Dissenters, he designates them “filthy dreamers,
presumptuous and self-willed men, despisers of dominion, who are not
afraid to speak evil of dignitaries, and who wrest the Word of God to
their own destruction.” He adds: “These false brethren in our government
are suffered to combine into bodies and seminaries, where Atheism,
Deism, Tritheism, Socinianism, with all the hellish principles of
fanaticism, regicide, and anarchy, are openly professed and taught, to
corrupt and debauch the youth of the nation. Certainly the toleration
was never intended to indulge and cherish such monsters and vipers in
our bosom, that scatter their pestilence at noon-day, and will rend,
distract, and confound the firmest and best settled constitution in the
world. It is true, that since these sectarists and sanctified hypocrites
have found out a way to swallow not only oaths but sacraments, to
qualify themselves to get into places and preferments, they can put on a
show of loyalty and seem tolerably easy in the government; but let her
Majesty reach out her little finger to touch their loins, and these
sworn adversaries to passive obedience and the royal family shall fret
themselves, and curse their Queen, and their God, and shall look
upwards.”

Speaking of the comprehension scheme of Archbishop Tillotson, he says,
“This latitudinarian, heterogeneous mixture of all persons of what
different faith soever, uniting in Protestancy, would render the Church
of England the most absurd, contradictory, and self-inconsistent body in
the world. This spurious and villainous notion, which will take in Jews,
Quakers, Mohammedans, and anything as well as Christians, our false
brethren have made use of to undermine the very essential constitution
of our Church. Her worst adversaries must be let into her bowels under
the holy umbrage of sons. To admit this religious Trojan horse, big with
arms and ruin into our holy city, the strait gate must be laid quite
open; and the pure spouse of Christ must be prostituted to more
adulterers than the scarlet whore in the Revelations. This was indeed a
ready way to fill the house of God with pagan beasts instead of
Christian sacrifices. Our Church would have been ruined by the blasted
and long-projected scheme of these ecclesiastical Ahithophels; a scheme
so monstrous, that even the sectarists of all sorts laughed at it as
ridiculous and impracticable.”

“Let the Dissenters, those miscreants, begot in rebellion, born in
sedition, and nursed up in faction, enjoy the indulgence the Government
has condescended to give them; but let them also move within their
proper sphere, and not grow eccentric, and, like comets that burst their
orb, threaten the ruin and downfall of our Church and State. They tell
us they have relinquished the principles as well as the sins of their
forefathers; but, if so, why do they not renounce their schism, and come
sincerely into our Church? Why do they still pelt the Church with more
blasphemous libels, and scurrilous lampoons, than were ever published in
Oliver’s usurpation? Have they not lately villainously divided us with
knavish distinctions of High and Low Churchmen? Are not the best
characters they give us those of Papists, Jacobites, and conspirators?”

This firebrand sermon was delivered before the Lord Mayor and
Corporation of London, in St Paul’s Cathedral, on the 5th of November
1709. The magistrates and common-councilmen gave thanks to the
thundering preacher; the discourse was printed, and above 40,000 copies
distributed throughout the kingdom. Parliament met on the 15th of the
same month, and the House of Commons at once passed a resolution to the
effect, that this sermon, and also another, which on the 15th of August
previous Sacheverell had preached at Derby Assizes, “were malicious,
scandalous, and seditious libels, highly reflecting upon her Majesty and
her Government, the late happy Revolution, and the Protestant
succession, as by law established;” and ordered that Dr Henry
Sacheverell should attend at the bar of the House. Accordingly, on
December 14th, Sacheverell went to Westminster, where he was met by a
hundred of the most eminent clergymen then resident in and about the
capital, including the Queen’s own chaplains. The doctor was taken into
custody, and impeached at the bar of the House of Lords of high crimes
and misdemeanours. After being kept in custody for a month, he was on
the 13th of January 1710, admitted to bail. The trial was fixed for
February 27th, and the Commons resolved to be present as a committee of
the whole House, and a place was prepared for them accordingly in
Westminster Hall. The articles of impeachment were four in number, and
were urged by the chief members of her Majesty’s Government; while
Sacheverell had a council of five gentlemen employed in his defence.
When the legal advisers on both sides had said all that they had to say,
the doctor was permitted to speak for himself. The scene was immensely
imposing. The trial lasted for a period of more than three weeks, from
February 27th to the 23d of March. The greatest excitement prevailed
both in town and country. It was given out boldly, and in all places,
that the Dissenters were about to recover their old ascendancy; that a
design was formed by the Whig Government to pull down the Church; that
the prosecution of Sacheverell was only to try their strength, and that
upon their success in it they would proceed to their object openly and
fearlessly. The clergy generally espoused Sacheverell as their champion,
and used their pulpits in his defence. Many places were full of riot,
and little was heard throughout the country except the old war-cry of
the Church in danger. In London there was every day a prodigious mob of
butchers’ boys, chimney-sweepers, scavengers, costermongers, and
prostitutes; and the more respectable class of the citizens began to
apprehend that all this drinking and rioting might end in robbing,
maiming, and murdering. In Westminster Hall, near the throne, was a box,
where the Queen sat, an interested listener, in a private character; one
platform was raised for the managers of the impeachment, and another for
the doctor and his counsel. On one side of the hall, benches were
erected for the Commons of Great Britain; and, on the other,
accommodations were provided for noble ladies and gentlewomen; while, at
the end, were galleries for the people in general. When Sacheverell left
the hall, on the first day of his trial, to return to his comfortable
and well-stocked lodging in the Temple, a countless mob that had stood
shouting, during the proceedings in Palace Yard, followed him with
tremendous huzzas; the streets were thronged; people of both sexes
saluted him from balconies and windows; while the doctor pompously
returned these compliments from the chair in which he was being carried,
and bowed and nodded like a Chinese mandarin. On the second day of the
trial, the mob began to plunder and to burn the Dissenters’
meeting-houses. The first attack was upon Mr Burgess’s chapel. The
pulpit and pews were pulled in pieces; and cushions, Bibles, benches,
curtains, sconces, and everything else combustible, were carried into
Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and set on fire, amid shouts of “High Church and
Sacheverell! Sacheverell and High Church!” Five or six other chapels
were similarly destroyed. Bishop Burnet’s house was threatened, and a
man standing at the door had his skull cleft with a spade, because he
refused to shout, “The Church and Sacheverell;”[206] but a detachment of
the Guards was called out and the mob dispersed.

-----

Footnote 206:

  Burnet’s _History_, vol. ii. p. 542.

-----

As already stated, when the Commons had gone through their charges, and
the counsel for Sacheverell had spoken in his defence, he was allowed to
speak for himself. It was a noticeable fact, however, that the speech
which Sacheverell recited differed so widely from the style of his
sermons and other productions, that it was evidently the work of
another. The author of Knight’s History of England, thinks it probable
that Sacheverell was assisted in it by the learning of Dr Smalridge and
Dr Atterbury, both of whom stood by his side during nearly the whole of
his lengthened trial; and others have suspected that, because of the
help thus afforded, Sacheverell, by his will, bequeathed Atterbury a
legacy of £500. It so happens, however, that all this speculation is
beside the mark, for John Wesley most emphatically declares that
Sacheverell’s defence was written “by the rector of Epworth,” his
father.[207] If we are asked for farther evidence of this, we have none
to give. John Wesley, without doubt, had the information from his
father, and both he and his father, we trust, are above the suspicion of
being capable of giving utterance to a statement which they knew to be a
lie. There was nothing to induce either Wesley or his father to claim
the paternity of Sacheverell’s defence, if such paternity had not been a
fact; and even if circumstances had existed to render it an honourable
distinction to be recognised as the author of such a production, John
Wesley and his father were among the last men in the world to attempt to
secure honour by dishonourable means. Personally we should rejoice if
the authorship belonged to Smalridge, Atterbury, or any one sooner than
to Samuel Wesley; but, after the explicit declaration of his son, we are
_forced_ to the belief that Sacheverell’s defence was a defence which
Wesley wrote for Sacheverell to recite. We regret this for a twofold
reason; first, because Sacheverell, however able, was a turbulent
priest, not worthy of the help of such a man as the rector of Epworth
was; and, secondly, because it proves that Wesley, who began his
ministerial life as a moderate Churchman, and an admirer of Archbishop
Tillotson, was now a partisan of the High Church clique, and allied with
men who regarded the Dissenters with the bitterest hostility. It is true
that considering the treatment which Wesley had received from his old
friends, the Dissenters, during the last six years, there is no need to
be surprised at this; and yet, at the same time, it is a fact which the
writer cannot but deplore.

-----

Footnote 207:

  Wesley’s _History of England_, vol. iv. p. 75.

-----

Sacheverell’s defence lies before us,[208] but it is scarce worth
quoting. He remarks that the charges against him are very serious; and,
for that reason, ought to be sustained by the clearer proofs; whereas
all that had been adduced had been “intendments, unnecessary
implications, strained constructions, broken sentences, and independent
passages.” In reference to the first article of impeachment, that he had
reflected upon the late revolution, and suggested that the means to
bring it about were odious and unjustifiable, he asserts that he did not
apply his doctrine of non-resistance to the Revolution; and then
contends that so far as the doctrine itself is concerned, it is in
perfect accordance with the teachings of the apostles and of the
Christian fathers, with the laws of the kingdom, and with the homilies
and articles of the English Church. In answer to the second article,
that he had defamed the Dissenters, and cast scurrilous reflections upon
those who favoured and defended liberty of conscience, he admits that he
had spoken with some warmth against hypocrites, Socinians, and Deists;
but he also contends that he had declared his approval of the indulgence
granted to the Dissenters by the law of toleration. As to the third
article, that he had said the Church was in danger under her Majesty’s
administration, he denies it altogether; but, at the same time says,
that the Church is in danger from the profaneness and immorality, the
heresies and schisms of the kingdom; for “never were the ministers of
Christ so abased and vilified, and the Divine authority of the
Scriptures so arraigned and ridiculed; never were infidelity and atheism
so impudent and barefaced as they are at present.” In reference to the
fourth article, that he had reproachfully called those, whom the Queen
had promoted to high stations in Church and State, spurious and false
brethren, he contends that he was as loyal as any man among them, and
that his sermons and his whole behaviour proved it. He concluded by
declaring that, “whether he was acquitted or condemned, he should always
pray for the Queen his sovereign, their lordships, his judges, and the
Commons, his accusers; and he trusted that God would deliver them from
all false doctrine, heresy, and schism; from hardness of heart and
contempt of His Word; from envy, hatred, and malice, and all
uncharitableness.”

-----

Footnote 208:

  It is entitled, “The Speech of Henry Sacheverell, D.D., upon his
  impeachment at the bar of the House of Lords, in Westminster Hall,
  March 7, 1710. London, 1710.” It was published by Sacheverell himself,
  and is a small octavo of twenty-four pages.

-----

The result of this remarkable trial was, that, on March 20th,
sixty-eight members of the House of Lords found Dr Sacheverell guilty of
the high crimes and misdemeanours charged against him by the impeachment
of the House of Commons; and fifty-two found him not guilty. Three days
after, his sentence was pronounced, to the effect that he should not
preach during the three years next ensuing; and that his two printed
sermons referred to in the impeachment, should be burnt before the Royal
Exchange, on March 27th, by the hands of the common hangman, in the
presence of the Lord Mayor of London, and of the Sheriffs of London and
Middlesex.

This mild sentence was looked upon by the friends of Sacheverell rather
as an acquittal than as a condemnation; and, on that and the following
nights, bonfires illuminated the streets of London and Westminster;
there was a deluge of ale and beer, and all who passed were compelled to
drink the health of the glorious Sacheverell. As for the doctor himself,
he was now a greater man than ever. He returned from Westminster Hall in
a grand ecclesiastical triumph. Wherever he went, he was followed by a
prodigious train of butchers’ boys, link boys, and the like, who made
the welkin ring with their enthusiastic shouts. His health was drunk in
bumpers at festive gatherings innumerable; and even handkerchiefs and
fans were embellished with his portrait. In the month of May, he began
his triumphal progress through the kingdom, and was looked upon as
another Hercules of the church militant. Wherever he went, his
emissaries were sent before him with his portrait; pompous
entertainments were made for him; and a mixed multitude of clergymen and
sextons, country singers and fiddlers, a mob of all conditions, male and
female, crowded together to meet and welcome him. At Exeter, the rabble
made bonfires, and broke the windows of a dissenting meeting-house. At
Oxford, Hoadley’s effigy and books were burned. At Sherborne, some of
the mob drank Sacheverell’s health, on their knees, in the Town Hall, in
the church, and on the church steeple; while others paraded the town,
with a drum, cursing the Presbyterians and firing at their houses. At
Pontefract, the crowd battered the dissenting chapel, and thought it a
high honour to have their children christened Sacheverell. At
Gloucester, they kindled bonfires, rang the church bells, and drank
Sacheverell’s health, with damnation to Dissenters. At Cirencester, they
placed the effigy of King William on a diminutive horse, which they made
to throw it, in remembrance of the fate that hastened the king’s death,
and then threw the effigy into a fire. They also had a cock-fight,
calling one of the fowls Burgess, and the other Sacheverell; but after a
lengthened and hard battle, cock Burgess unfortunately killed cock
Sacheverell.[209] At Bridgenorth, Sacheverell was met by four thousand
men on horseback, and as many on foot, wearing white knots, edged with
gold. The hedges, for two miles, were dressed with garlands, and the
church steeples covered with streamers, flags, and colours.[210] This
clerical progress was made after the dissolution of the Whig parliament,
and during the turbulence of a new election, and hence its motives,
successes, and excesses may be imagined. The University of Oxford held a
feast to welcome the champion of the Church. The stately mansions of the
Tory nobility were thrown open at his approach; and, in several towns,
he was received by the mayors and magistrates in their formalities. The
avenues to these towns were lined with spectators, the hedges and trees
were hung with garlands of flowers; flags were displayed on the church
steeples; and the air resounded with cries of “Sacheverell and the
Church.” After a few weeks, however, sobriety began to return; the
doctor’s picture was frequently torn in pieces, and, in many places, he
himself was rudely treated. Sacheverell had done his work, and had, more
than any other cause, helped the Tories back to their seats of office.
In 1713, the Queen presented him to the valuable rectory of St Andrew’s,
Holborn. The first sermon which he preached in the church of that
parish, he sold for £100, and forty thousand copies of it were speedily
bought by eager purchasers. After this, he gradually dwindled into
insignificance, and signalised himself only, during the remainder of his
life, by contemptible squabbles with his parishioners. He died at the
age of fifty-two, in 1724. “He was,” says Bishop Burnet, “a bold,
insolent man, with a very small measure of religion, virtue, learning,
or good sense; but he forced himself into popularity and preferment by
the most petulant railings at Dissenters and Low Churchmen!” Daniel
Defoe says of him, “Bear-garden language is his peculiar talent. He is
known in his books as a pulpit incendiary; the Church’s bloody
standard-bearer; the trumpeter sent out by High Church authority to
preach against union, to proclaim open war between parties, and to hang
out flags of defiance.”

  “High Church buffoon, and Oxford’s stated jest, A noisy, saucy,
  swearing, drunken priest.”

-----

Footnote 209:

  _Complete History of the Affair of Dr Sacheverell._ London, 1711.

Footnote 210:

  Wesley’s _History of England_, vol. iv. p. 76.

-----

Such was the man whom Samuel Wesley helped in an emergency. We are sorry
to register such a fact, but truth and honesty compel us. The only
excuse which can be suggested is, that during the last few years, the
rector of Epworth had been a serious sufferer from dissenting hatred,
and that his old dissenting friends were now his bitterest enemies.

The new parliament met on the 25th of November 1710, and the Queen, in
her opening speech, showed that she was in the hands of new advisers.
She no longer condescended to use the word toleration, but, spoke of
_indulgence_ to be allowed “to scrupulous consciences.” This term of
_indulgence_ was the more observed, because it was the pet word of
Sacheverell, who held, that whatever liberty of conscience Dissenters
had, was a matter of indulgence, and not of right. The Whigs were now in
a minority, and the Tories were the ruling power.

Convocation, of course, met on the same day as parliament, and of this
ecclesiastical synod Samuel Wesley was a member; an honour perhaps
awarded him for the service which, at the beginning of the year, he had
rendered to Sacheverell. The clergy of the Lower House chose Dr
Atterbury, Dean of Carlisle, for their prolocutor; and then came down a
royal rescript, very different to that to which they had of late years
been accustomed, a licence empowering convocation to enter upon such
consultations as the present state of the Church required. The subjects
to be discussed were,—1. The late excessive growth of infidelity,
heresy, and profaneness; 2. Excommunications, and abuses of commutation
money; 3. The visitation of prisoners, and the admission of converts
from the Church of Rome; 4. Rural Deans; 5. The glebes and tithes
belonging to benefices; 6. Clandestine marriages. As usual, the two
houses were at constant variance with each other. Most of the winter was
spent in discussing the heresies of Whiston’s “Primitive Christianity
Revived.” This learned, ingenious, but eccentric man had succeeded Sir
Isaac Newton, in 1703, at Cambridge, as Lucasian Professor of
Mathematics; but had recently adopted Arian principles, and published
them in the book already mentioned. For this, he was expelled from
Cambridge, and was censured by convocation. There was an endless amount
of talk; but this was the only business done, when convocation closed on
the 12th of June 1711. The House of Commons, however, took into
consideration the want of churches in London, and the thanks of the
lower house of convocation were presented to them by the prolocutor, who
also submitted a scheme for the new churches. On the 7th of May 1711,
the Commons resolved to grant to her Majesty £350,000 for the building
of fifty new churches, and the purchasing of sites of churches,
churchyards, and ministers’ houses, in and about the cities of London
and Westminster. This magnificent scheme originated in the convocation
of which Samuel Wesley was a member; but, of course, it was carried into
effect by parliament.[211]

-----

Footnote 211:

  _Life of Queen Anne_; also, Lathbury’s _History of Convocation_.

-----

On the 7th of December 1711, parliament re-assembled, and convocation as
well. Convocation did nothing, except discuss priestly absolution and
lay baptism;[212] but parliament signalised itself by passing the
notorious “Occasional Conformity Bill,” which had been trying to
struggle into life for the last ten years.

-----

Footnote 212:

  At this time, says Bishop Burnet, there appeared an inclination in
  many of the clergy to a nearer approach to the Church of Rome. Hicks,
  who was now at the head of the Jacobite party, had, in several books,
  promoted the notion that there was a proper sacrifice made in the
  eucharist. He also openly condemned the supremacy of the crown in
  ecclesiastical affairs, and the method in which the Reformation was
  carried. One Brett preached a sermon, in several of the pulpits of
  London, which he afterwards printed, in which he said no repentance
  could serve without priestly absolution, and affirmed that the priest
  was vested with the same power of pardoning that our Saviour himself
  had. Another conceit was the invalidity of lay baptism, and that, as
  dissenting teachers were laymen, they and their congregations ought to
  be rebaptized. Dodwell left all who died without the sacraments to the
  uncovenanted mercies of God; and maintained that none had a right to
  give the sacraments except the apostles, and, after them, bishops and
  priests ordained by them. The bishops thought it necessary to put a
  stop to such doctrines, and agreed to a declaration against the
  irregularity of all baptism by persons not in holy orders; but yet
  allowing that, according to the practice of the primitive Church, and
  the constant usage of the Church of England, no baptism ought to be
  reiterated. Archbishop Sharpe (the friend of Samuel Wesley) refused to
  sign the declaration, pretending that it would encourage irregular
  baptisms. The Archbishop of Canterbury, with most of the bishops of
  his province, submitted the matter to the convocation. It was agreed
  to in the Upper House, but the Lower House refused even to consider
  it, because it would encourage those who struck at the dignity of the
  priesthood. This was all that passed in the convocation of
  1712.—(Burnet’s _History of His Own Times_, 1st edit., vol. ii. p.
  605.)

-----

Whilst Samuel Wesley was attending these sessions of convocation, his
wife was doing her utmost to supply his lack of service among his
parishioners. The following facts are taken from a letter, dated “Feb.
6, 1711–12,” and addressed to “the Rev. Mr Wesley, in St Margaret’s
Churchyard, Westminster.”[213] After giving a detailed account of the
manner in which she had been led to adopt the practice of reading to and
instructing her family, Mrs Wesley proceeds to state, that the servant
lad had told his parents of these family gatherings, and they desired to
be admitted. They told others, who begged the same permission, until
these domestic congregations amounted to thirty or forty individuals.
Mrs Wesley read to them the best and most awakening sermons she could
find, and discoursed with them freely and affectionately. The
congregation still grew, until now it numbered above two hundred, and on
the Sunday before the letter was written, many had been obliged to go
away through there not being room for them to stand.

-----

Footnote 213:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1781, p. 313.

-----

Mrs Wesley had thus, unintentionally, become a sort of female preacher.
Why did she begin these services? She says, because she thought the end
of the institution of the Sabbath was not fully answered by attending
church unless the intermediate spaces of time were filled up by other
acts of piety and devotion;[214] but we incline to think there was
another reason beside this. Mr Wesley, being so much in London, required
a curate to supply his place at Epworth, and it so happened that his
curate at this period, Mr Inman, was not so efficient as was desirable.
On one occasion, when Wesley returned from London, the parishioners
complained that the curate had “preached nothing to his congregation,
except the duty of paying their debts, and behaving well among their
neighbours.” The complainants added, “We think, sir, there is more in
religion than this.” Mr Wesley replied, “There certainly is; I will hear
him myself.” The curate was sent for, and was told that he must preach
next Lord’s-day, the rector at the same time, saying, “I suppose you can
prepare a sermon upon any text I give you.” “Yes, sir,” replied the
ready curate. “Then,” said Wesley, “prepare a sermon on Heb. xi. 6,
‘Without faith it is impossible to please God.’” The time arrived, and
the text being read with great solemnity, the curate began his brief
sermon, by saying—“Friends, faith is a most excellent virtue, and it
produces other virtues also. In particular, it makes a man pay his
debts;” and thus he proceeded for about fifteen minutes, when the rector
clearly saw that paying debts was the alpha and the omega of the
curate’s theology. It is scarce likely that the ministry of such a man
would satisfy the enlightened mind and religious heart of Susannah
Wesley; and it is not to be wondered at that she should try to supply
its defects by reading to her children and to two hundred of her
neighbours, on Sunday evenings, the best sermons she could find in her
husband’s library.

-----

Footnote 214:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1781, p. 313.

-----

The congregations of the rector’s wife were probably larger than those
of the rector’s curate. Inman heard of these gatherings, and wrote to Mr
Wesley, complaining that Mrs Wesley, in his absence, had turned the
parsonage into a conventicle; that the church was likely to be
scandalised by such irregular proceedings, and that they ought not to be
tolerated any longer. Mr Wesley wrote to his wife, suggesting that she
should let some one else read the sermons. She replied that there was
not a man among them that could read a sermon without spoiling a good
part of it, and that none of her children had a voice strong enough to
be heard by so many people. The only thing that disquieted her was
“presenting the prayers of the people to God.” She had been obliged to
do this, but, because of her sex, she doubted its propriety.

The curate still complained, and the rector, writing to his wife,
desired that the meetings should be discontinued. She replied that Inman
and a man called Whiteley, and one or two others, were the only persons
in the parish that had raised complaints; that calling the meeting a
conventicle did not alter the nature of the thing; and that,
notwithstanding its alleged scandal, it had been the means of bringing
more people to the church than anything else had been, for the afternoon
congregation had been increased by it from twenty to above two hundred,
which was a larger congregation than Inman had been accustomed to have
in the morning; some families who seldom went to church now began to go
constantly; and one person, who had not been there for seven years, was
now attending with the rest. Besides all this, the meetings had been the
means of conciliating the minds of the people towards the Wesley family,
and they now lived in the greatest amity imaginable. After stating these
facts, Mrs Wesley adds:—“If, after all this, you think fit to dissolve
this assembly, do not tell me that you _desire_ me to do it, for that
will not satisfy my conscience; but send me your _positive command_ in
such full and express terms as may absolve me from all guilt and
punishment for neglecting this opportunity of doing good, when you and I
shall appear before the great and awful tribunal of our Lord Jesus
Christ.”[215] What the upshot was we have no means of knowing. John and
Charles Wesley were present at these irregular meetings—the first
Methodist meetings ever held—Charles a child four years old, and John a
boy of nine. “Behold how great a matter a little fire kindleth!”

-----

Footnote 215:

  Whitehead’s _Life of Wesley_, p. 54.

-----




                             CHAPTER XVII.
                    PRETERNATURAL NOISES.—1716–1717.


From the earliest times, men have believed in apparitions, or
preternatural appearances of spirits. The Jews, in the days of Moses,
were commanded not to suffer a witch to live. The Greeks and the Romans
had their demons or genii. In the days of Christ there were demoniacs.
Origen conceived that souls tainted by flagrant crimes were either
confined in a species of limbo, or attached to particular spots, where
within certain limits, they might ramble about at pleasure. Popery, from
the first, countenanced and fostered the doctrines of witchcraft and
demonology, its priests strengthening their dominion by practising
conjurations, and its monks fabricating legends suited to the prevailing
taste. Martin Luther believed as firmly in diabolical apparitions as the
most illiterate monk in the Popish Church, which he laboured to destroy.
And, in more recent times, men like Dr Henry More, Andrew Baxter, and
Joseph Glanvil, (all contemporaneous with Samuel Wesley,) wrote most
learnedly to prove that the doctrine of apparitions is deducible from
the nature of the soul, the testimony of Scripture, and the evidence of
fact. On the other hand, most elaborate works against the doctrine were
published, about the same period, by the celebrated Thomasius, and by Dr
Balthasar Bekker. Down to the sixteenth century, in Europe, witchcraft
universally prevailed; and even as late as the middle of the seventeenth
century it maintained its ground with considerable firmness. In England,
the belief in witchcraft was supported by the royal authority of James
I., was countenanced by Lord Bacon, and was generally adopted among the
people; and there was only one writer, Reginald Scot, who was hardy
enough to write against it. Supposed witches were weighed against the
Church Bible, which, if the accused persons were guilty, would
preponderate. They were placed in the middle of a room cross-legged,
bound with cords, and sitting on a stool; were kept without food and
sleep for four-and-twenty hours, and were watched all the while to see
the witch’s imps, in the shape of flies and spiders, come to suck her
breasts. They were made to repeat the Lord’s prayer, because no witch
could repeat it without omitting some of its sentences. A witch could
not weep more than three tears, and that only out of the left eye. After
binding the right thumb to the left toe, and the right toe to the left
thumb, the supposed witch was thrown into a river, and, unless she sank,
she was proved guilty; because, according to the infallible teaching of
King James, having renounced her baptism by water, the water renounced
her. By such trials as these, and by the accusations of children, old
women, and fools, thousands of unhappy persons were condemned for
witchcraft, and were burnt to death. Without questioning the reality of
such a thing as witchcraft, it cannot be denied that the witnesses, by
whose evidence supposed witches were condemned, were, in most cases,
either weak enthusiasts or downright villains; and that the confessions
ascribed to the witches themselves were, in many instances, the effects
of a disordered imagination, produced by cruel treatment and excessive
watchings.

There can be little doubt that, from early life, Samuel Wesley was a
believer in the doctrine of apparitions. In vol. i. of the _Athenian
Oracle_, (p. 185,) it is assumed that the soul, after its separation
from the body, may again be clothed with some sort of aerial, fiery, or
cloudy vehicle, and be visible to our senses; and instances are given of
apparitions at Puddle Dock, London, and at the Grange, in Lancashire. In
another article of the same volume, (p. 289,) it is said—“That spirits
have sometimes really appeared to mortals is, amongst all sober men,
beyond controversy;” and Luke xxiv. 37 is quoted in support of such a
theory. In a third article, vol. i. p. 296, ten apparition cases are
related, and the writer concludes thus:—“The next step to the
disbelieving such things is the denial of the soul’s existence out of
the body; and, if that be admitted, farewell all moral virtues and the
expectation of rewards and punishments hereafter.” Again, page 153, it
is argued that there is no nation or language in which there is not some
word expressive of the idea of witchcraft, and that, if witches had not
really existed, it was an absurd thing for Almighty God to make a law
commanding them to be put to death. Many other articles of a like
character may be found in the other volumes of the same work, proving,
beyond a doubt, that, at the commencement of his ministerial life,
Samuel Wesley believed in witches and in ghosts. We must now proceed to
give, in as condensed a form as possible, the account of the old Jeffrey
apparition at Epworth Parsonage. For the preservation of that account we
are indebted to the Rev. Samuel Badcock, and for its publication to Dr
Priestley.

Badcock was born about the year 1750, and, at the age of nineteen,
became the minister of one of the most considerable Dissenting
congregations in Devonshire. On his removal from Barnstaple, he was
elected minister at South Moulton. He now turned his attention to
literature, and became a correspondent of the London and monthly
reviews, and of the chief London magazines. About three years before his
death, which occurred in 1788, he renounced the Dissenting ministry, and
was ordained a priest of the Established Church.[216]

-----

Footnote 216:

  _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1788.

-----

This man, by means of Mrs Earle, the daughter of Samuel Wesley, jun.,
became possessed of a large mass of Wesley MSS., some of which he
published in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, and in other publications of
that period. The rest he gave to his friend Dr Priestley. These included
a “copy of Mr Wesley’s Diary,” and copies of letters written by his
daughters to the absent members of the family, all in the hand-writing
of Mr Samuel Wesley, jun. This MS. was lent by Priestley to a friend,
and for a time was lost; but at length it was restored, and, in 1791,
was published.[217] Priestley, in his preface, says, “This is perhaps
the best authenticated, and the best told story of the kind, that is
anywhere extant.” The account, as published in detail by Dr Priestley,
fills forty-seven octavo pages, but every material fact will be found in
the condensed statement now subjoined.

-----

Footnote 217:

  _Ibid._, 1785, p. 411.

-----

The preternatural noises at Epworth parsonage were first heard by Mrs
Wesley. This was on the evening of a day when her son Samuel had come
home from Westminster School, and, with considerable sharpness, had
quarrelled with his sister Susannah. At the time, Mrs Wesley was in her
bedroom, and heard a clattering of doors and windows, and then several
distinct knocks, three by three. This, however, gave her no anxiety;
and, though ever after, similar noises were invariably heard previous to
the occurrence of any family misfortune, yet Mrs Wesley, and, indeed,
the family as a whole, seemed to have attached no importance to such
disturbances until the close of the year 1716. Then the noises became
alarming, and the following is an account of them from that period:—

On the first of December 1716, Nanny Marshall, the maid-servant, heard,
at the dining-room door, something which sounded like the groans of a
dying man, and which made her hair stand on end. This was in the
day-time, and, at night, Miss Susannah and Miss Anne Wesley, whilst
sitting in the dining-room, heard something rush on the outside of the
doors that opened into the garden, then three loud knocks, immediately
after other three, and, in half a minute, the same number above their
heads. A night or two after, Emilia came down stairs, at ten o’clock, to
wind up the timepiece and lock the doors, as usual, and, as she was
doing so, she heard, under the staircase, a sound as if some bottles
there had all been dashed to pieces; but, when she looked, all was safe.
She also heard a noise, like a person throwing down a vast coal in the
middle of the front kitchen; but when she and Susannah went to see what
it was, the dog was fast asleep, and nothing out of order. Emilia now
went to bed, but Mehetabel, who always waited for her father to leave
his study and to retire to rest, was sitting on the lowest step of the
garret stairs, when there came down the stairs behind her, something
like a man in a loose night-gown trailing after him, which made her fly
to Emilia in the nursery. After this, the man-servant, whose dormitory
was the garret, heard some one rattling by his side, and then walking up
and down the stairs, gabbling like a turkey-cock. Noises, also, were
heard in the nursery, and all the other chambers, knocking first at the
foot of the beds, and then behind them.

At length the four young ladies, Emilia, Susannah, Mehetabel, and Anne,
the youngest of whom was fourteen years of age, and the eldest
twenty-four, told their father and mother of the noises they had heard.
The father smiled, and gave no answer; but, appearing to think it was a
trick played by themselves, or by their lovers, he afterwards took care
to see them all in bed before he went to bed himself. The mother said
she believed that the noise was made by rats; and sent for a horn to
frighten them away. At last, on December 21st, the noises were heard not
only by the young ladies, but by their parents. Nine distinct and loud
knocks startled them in the room adjoining that in which they were
sleeping. The rector thought, or was pleased to say, it might be some
one outside the house, and expressed a hope that his stout mastiff might
rid them of the disturber of their peace. Next night, however, he heard
six knocks more; and two days after, at seven in the morning, Emilia
brought her mother into the nursery, where she heard noises under the
bed, and then at the head of it. She knocked, and it answered her. She
looked beneath the bed, and thought she saw something run from thence in
the shape of a badger, and apparently take refuge under Emilia’s
petticoats. The next night but one, Mr Wesley and his wife were awaked,
shortly after midnight, by noises so violent that it was in vain to
think of sleep while they continued. They went into every chamber; and,
generally, as they entered one room, the noise was heard in the room
behind them. Proceeding to the lower part of the house, they heard a
clashing among the bottles, and then another distinct sound, as if a
peck of money were poured out at Mrs Wesley’s waist, and ran jingling
down her night-gown to her feet. Going through the hall into the
kitchen, the mastiff came whining towards them, and seemed almost
paralysed with fear. They still heard it rattle and thunder in every
room above and behind them except the study, where, up to the present,
it had never entered.

On December 26th, a little before ten at night, it began knocking in the
kitchen, then seemed to be at the bed’s foot, then under the bed, and at
last at the head of it. Mr Wesley went down stairs and knocked with his
stick against the kitchen’s joists, and it answered him as often as he
knocked. He went up stairs, and he found it still thumping, sometimes
under the bed, and sometimes at the bed’s head. All the children were
awake and trembling with fear. He asked it what it was, and why it
disturbed innocent children and did not come to him in his study, if it
had anything to say to him; but the only response was a knock on the
outside of the house, with which the disturbance of the night was ended.

The next night the noises were as boisterous as ever; and, the night
after, when the Rev. Mr Hoole, of Haxsey, was with them, the knocking
again began upstairs, and then in the rooms below. The two clergymen
went into the kitchen, and then the sound was in the room above. They
went up the narrow stairs, and then heard as it were the rustling of a
silk night gown. Quickly it was in the nursery, at the bed’s head,
knocking three by three. Mr Wesley, observing that the children, though
asleep, were sweating and trembling, became angry, and, pulling out a
pistol, was about to fire at the place whence the sounds proceeded; but
Mr Hoole caught him by the arm and said, “Sir, if this is something
preternatural you cannot hurt _it_ by firing your pistol, but you may
give it power to hurt _you_.” He then put aside his pistol, and went
close to the place where the sounds were issuing and said, “Thou deaf
and dumb devil, why dost thou frighten children that cannot answer thee?
Come to _me_ in my study that am a man.” Instantly it knocked _his_
knock, (the particular knock he always used at his own gate and door,)
as if it would shiver the board in pieces, and away it went.[218]

-----

Footnote 218:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1784, p. 608.

-----

Up to this time, there had been no disturbance in Mr Wesley’s study; but
the next evening, as he opened the door, it was thrust back with such
violence as well nigh threw him down, and presently there was a
knocking, first on one side, then on the other. His daughter Ann was in
the room adjoining and he went to her, and, as the noise still
continued, he adjured it to speak, but in vain. He then said, “Spirits
love darkness; put out the candle and perhaps it will speak.” Anne did
so, and he repeated his adjuration, but still there was only knocking,
and no articulate sound. He then said to his daughter, “Nancy, two
Christians are an over-match for a devil; go down stairs, and it may be,
when I am left alone, it will have courage enough to speak.” When she
was gone the thought occurred to him that something might have happened
to his son Samuel, and he said, “If thou art the spirit of my son
Samuel, I pray knock three knocks, and no more.” Immediately all was
silence, and the rest of the night passed away in quietude.[219]

-----

Footnote 219:

  _Ibid._, p. 654.

-----

From this time until January 24, 1717, a period of twenty-seven days,
the house was quiet; but on this day, in the morning, while at family
prayers, the family heard the usual knocks at the prayer for King
George; and at night the knocks were more distinct, both in the prayer
for the king and for the prince, and were accompanied with a thundering
thump at the _Amen_. Between nine and ten o’clock, while Robert Brown
was sitting by himself at the back kitchen fire, something came out of
the copper hole like a rabbit, and turned five times swiftly round.
Robert ran after it with the tongs, but, to Robert’s terrible dismay, it
vanished.

On the day after, January 25, Mr Wesley shortened the family prayers in
the morning, omitting the confession, the absolution, and the prayers
for the king and prince, and observed that whenever he did this there
was no knocking; but whenever he used the name of King George it seemed
a signal for the knocking to commence. This made Wesley so angry that he
resolved to say three prayers for the royal family, instead of two.

Emilia often heard something like the quick winding up of a jack at the
corner of her room. When Mrs Wesley stamped on the floor it answered
her; and when little Kezzia, only six years old, did the same, three
loud and hollow knocks were the immediate response. On one occasion,
when the man-servant went into the dining-room, something like a badger,
without a head, was sitting by the fire, and ran past him through the
hall. He followed with a candle and searched, but nothing could be
found. On another occasion, to Mr Wesley’s no small amazement, his
trencher began dancing on the table where the family were dining.
Several nights the latch of his bed-room door was lifted; and one night,
when the latch of the back kitchen-door was often lifted, Emilia went
and held it fast, but it was still lifted up and the door pushed
violently against her, though nothing was to be seen outside. Thrice Mr
Wesley was pushed by an invisible power, once against the corner of his
desk, a second time against the door of the matted chamber, and a third
time against the frame of his study door. He often spoke to it to tell
him what it was, but never heard any articulate voice, and only once or
twice two or three feeble squeaks. As a rule, as soon as the noises
began the wind rose, and whistled loudly round the house. It commonly
commenced the disturbance at the corner of the nursery ceiling, and,
before it came into any room, the latches were frequently lifted up, the
windows clattered, and whatever iron or brass was about the chamber rung
and jarred exceedingly. Very often the sound seemed to be in the air in
the middle of a room. Though it often seemed to rattle down the pewter,
to clap the doors, draw the curtains, and kick Robert Brown’s shoes
about, yet nothing was moved except the latches; unless once, when the
nursery-door was thrown open. It is also a remarkable circumstance that
the noise never came by day till Mrs Wesley ordered the blowing of the
horn; ever after that it almost invariably happened that whenever any
member of the family went from one room into another, the latch of the
room they went to was lifted up before they touched it. It also never
came into Mr Wesley’s study until he talked to it so sharply, and called
it a deaf and dumb devil. Mrs Wesley desired it not to disturb her from
five to six o’clock in the morning; and, from that time, no noise was
heard in her chamber from five till she came down stairs, nor at any
other time when she was employed in devotion.

The man-servant, Robert Brown, who slept in the garret, was often so
frightened, that he ran down stairs, almost naked, not daring to stay
alone to put on his clothes; and the maid-servant, Nanny Marshall,
seemed more affrighted than anybody else. Once, when Mary Wesley was by
herself in the dining-room, the door seemed to open, and some one
entered in a night-gown trailing upon the ground, went leisurely around
her, and vanished. A few nights after, Mr Wesley ordered her to light
him to his study, and just as he unlocked the door, the latch was lifted
for him. When Anne Wesley came into her chamber in the day-time, it
commonly walked after her from room to room, and followed her from one
side of the bed to the other. When five or six of them were sitting in
the nursery together, a cradle seemed to be violently rocked in the room
above, though no cradle existed there. One night, when Anne was sitting
on the press bed, playing at cards with some of her sisters, the bed was
lifted up. She at once leaped down, exclaiming, “Surely old Jeffrey
would not run away with _her_.” At her sisters’ persuasion, she again
sat down, when the bed was again lifted up, a considerable height,
several times successively. The servant-maid, after churning, on one
occasion, took her butter into the dairy, and had no sooner done so than
she heard a knocking on the shelf, first above and then below. She took
a candle and made diligent search, but finding nothing, threw down
butter, tray, and all, and ran away for her very life. Robin Brown, one
night, resolved to be a match for “old Jeffrey,” and took the large
household dog to bed with him; but, despite the dog, the latch began to
jar as usual, the turkey-cock to gobble, and the boots and shoes to
clatter; until the dog, as much frightened as Robin was, crept into bed
to him, and commenced such a howling and barking, that the whole family
were alarmed. On another occasion, Robin was grinding corn in the
garrets, and happening to stop a little, the handle of the mill began to
turn with the utmost swiftness. Robin said, “Nothing vexed him, but that
the mill was empty. If corn had been in it, old Jeffrey might have
grinded his heart out for him; he would never have disturbed him.”

At length, the family became so accustomed to the noises, that they
scarce regarded them. At nights, when the tapping at their beds began,
the young ladies would say, “Jeffrey is coming: it is time to sleep;”
and, in the day-time, when the noise was heard, little Kezzy, six years
old, would run up stairs, and pursue it from room to room, saying, she
wished for no better fun. Several gentlemen and clergymen advised Mr
Wesley to quit the house; but his invariable answer was, “No; let the
devil flee from _me_; I will never flee from _him_.”[220]

-----

Footnote 220:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1784, p. 656.

-----

About the middle of February 1717, there seems to have been a cessation
of those unearthly noises; hence Mr Wesley wrote to his son Samuel as
follows:—

                                                  _Feb. 11, 1716–7._

  “DEAR SAM.,—As for the noises, &c., in our family, I thank God, we are
  now all quiet. There were some surprising circumstances in that
  affair. Your mother has not written you a third part of it. When I see
  you here, you shall see the whole account, which I wrote down. It
  would make a glorious penny book for Jack Dunton; but, while I live, I
  am not ambitious for anything of that nature. I think that is all, but
  blessings from—your loving father,       SAM. WESLEY.”

This, however, was far from being the last of old Jeffrey’s tricks. At
the end of March following, it made Mr Wesley’s trencher dance upon the
table;[221] and, on the 31st of that month, after midnight, it opened
the dining-room door, where Emilia and the servant-maid were sitting;
then shut it; and then began to knock as usual.[222] Indeed, thirty-four
years after this, Emilia, who was then Mrs Harper, speaks of still being
visited by old Jeffrey, when she was about to be visited by any new
affliction;[223] and it is reported that even as lately as within the
last few years, the then rector of Epworth and his family were residing
in London, owing to the repetition of the noises first heard a hundred
and fifty years ago in the world-renowned Epworth parsonage.[224]

-----

Footnote 221:

  Priestly, p. 139.

Footnote 222:

  _Ibid._, p. 140.

Footnote 223:

  _See_ Clarke’s _Wesley Family_, vol. i. p. 286.

Footnote 224:

  _Wesleyan Times_, March 7, 1864.

-----

But who was old Jeffrey? At first, Mrs Wesley thought it was the spirit
of one of her three sons, Samuel, John, and Charles, then at school in
London and Westminster; then she believed it to be the rioting of rats;
and, finally, she supposed it betokened the death of her brother, Samuel
Annesley, at that time resident in India.

In reply to all this, it may be stated, that the three young Wesleys
lived for many a long year after this; it was impossible for freakish or
frantic rats to perform all the tricks performed by old Jeffrey; and,
finally, the death of Samuel Annesley did not occur until about eight
years after Jeffrey began his disturbances.

Samuel Wesley, jun., made the strictest inquiries, and evidently
believed it to be a spirit, but for what purpose sent he was unable to
conjecture. He writes: “As to my particular opinion concerning the
events foreboded by these noises, I cannot, I must confess, form any. I
think, since it was not permitted to speak, all guesses must be
vain.”[225]

-----

Footnote 225:

  _Wesley Family_.

-----

Some have suspected, that it might be all a trick performed by the
servants of the family; but then the noises were _often_ heard by the
family when all the servants were present with them.

Miss Susannah Wesley, and her sisters Emilia, Mary, Mehetabel, and Anne,
seem to have had no doubt that the whole affair was supernatural; and
the youngest of these five sisters was now fourteen years of age, and
therefore able to form something like a correct opinion.

The Rev. Mr Hoole appears to have thought the same, for he prevented Mr
Wesley firing his pistol at the spirit, lest the spirit should thereby
obtain power to retaliate and injure him.

John Wesley believed that it was a messenger of Satan sent to buffet his
father, for the rash vow he made, fifteen years before, and for his
leaving his wife for a twelvemonth, because she refused to pray for King
William.[226] We should not quarrel with Mr Wesley for thinking that old
Jeffrey was a messenger of Satan; but the fact he mentions, on account
of which the messenger was sent, is to a great extent fiction, as we
have already shown; and, even were it true, to assign it as a reason for
the coming of old Jeffrey, is simply silly and absurd.

-----

Footnote 226:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1784, p. 606.

-----

Dr Priestley thinks the whole affair was a trick of the servants,
assisted by some of their neighbours, for the purpose of puzzling the
family, and amusing themselves;[227] but how is such a theory to be
reconciled with the clashing of bottles beneath the stairs, the repeated
appearances of the badger without a head, the sound of the peck of money
poured from Mrs Wesley’s waist, the noises occurring not only at night
but also in the day, the invariable thumping when Mr Wesley prayed for
the king and prince, the dancing of Mr Wesley’s trencher, his being
thrice violently pushed by an unseen power, the fact that the sound
frequently seemed to be in the air in the middle of a room, and that
however much the Wesleys tried to produce an imitation of the sound,
none of them could succeed in doing so. These are difficulties, which
those who adopt Dr Priestley’s opinion are bound satisfactorily to
explain.

-----

Footnote 227:

  Priestley’s preface to _Original Letters by John Wesley_, &c., p. 14.

-----

The Rev. W. B. Stonehouse, author of “The History and Topography of the
Isle of Axholme,” accounts for the noises thus: he writes:—“There is a
large garret, which extends over the ceilings of all the rooms below,
and nothing can be more probable than that some piece of machinery was
fixed there, by which all the noises were effected, and which required
to be wound up before the performances began.” This is childish. Who in
Epworth, or the neighbourhood, was able either to devise or to construct
such machinery? How was it introduced? Who set it up? Was it invisible?
Or is it likely that Samuel Wesley visited and examined all the rooms in
the house excepting this?

Dr Adam Clarke believed the thing to be supernatural; and suggests that
it may be accounted for by the following story, which was related by a
respectable person to himself. One night, after the family had gone to
bed, while the maid-servant was finishing her work in the back-kitchen,
she was startled by a noise, looked up, and saw a man working himself
through a trough, which communicated between the sink-stone within and a
cistern without. Astonished and terrified, she seized the cleaver, which
lay on the sink-stone, and struck him on the head; after which she
uttered an awful shriek, and fell senseless on the floor. Mr Wesley
heard the noise, and supposing that the house was beset by robbers,
started out of bed, caught up the fire-irons of his study, and began to
throw them with violence on the stairs, calling out, Tom! Jack! Harry!
as loud as he could bawl, designing, by this means, to scare away the
thieves. Who the man was who received the death-blow from the cleaver,
or who were his accomplices, was never known; but the man was evidently
carried off, as footsteps and marks of blood were traced to a
considerable distance from the house, but not far enough to find out who
the villains were, nor whence they came. Dr A. Clarke fails to tell us
when this tragical event occurred.

Southey says, that he is “as deeply and fully persuaded as John Wesley
was, that the spirits of the departed are sometimes permitted to
manifest themselves;” though he does “not believe in witchcraft, and
very greatly doubts the reality of demoniacal possession.”[228] He also
asserts that many of the circumstances connected with the disturbances
at Epworth parsonage cannot be explained by Dr Priestley’s supposition,
that the whole thing was a trick of the servants and neighbours; neither
“can they be explained by any legerdemain, nor by ventriloquism, nor by
any secret of acoustics.” And, then, having thus come to the conclusion
that the noises were supernatural, he endeavours to account for such
occurrences by saying: “It would be end sufficient, if sometimes one of
those unhappy persons who, looking through the dim glass of infidelity,
see nothing beyond this life, should, from the well-established truth of
one such story, be led to a conclusion that there are more things in
heaven and earth than are dreamt of in their philosophy.”[229]

-----

Footnote 228:

  _Wilberforce’s Correspondence_, vol. ii. p. 390.

Footnote 229:

  Southey’s _Life of Wesley_.

-----

And, now, though it may seem presumption for one so insignificant as the
writer to express an opinion, after stating the opinions of men like
those already quoted, yet, at the risk of incurring such opprobrium, he
ventures to assert he has thoroughly sifted the whole history, and has
read all that has been written concerning it; and that, though he began
the examination with the strongest prejudice against the theory that the
noises were supernatural, yet, by the force of evidence, which he has
been unable to resist, he has been driven to the conclusion that the
thing was not a trick, but that the noises and other circumstances were
occasioned by the direct and immediate agency of some unseen spirit.

If asked to express an opinion whether the spirit was good or bad, the
writer would say, the latter. “About a year since,” says Emilia Wesley,
“there was a disturbance at a town near us that was undoubtedly
occasioned by witches; and, if so near, why may they not reach us? Then,
my father had, for several Sundays before old Jeffrey came, preached
warmly against consulting those that are called cunning men, which our
people are given to; and it had a particular spite at my father.”[230]

-----

Footnote 230:

  Priestley, p. 138.

-----

If asked again, What good end was to be answered by permitting such
supernatural disturbances? the writer answers, that his own opinion
thoroughly coincides with Southey’s, already given. It is worse than
absurd to suppose that God permits such occurrences to happen without
some great purpose to be accomplished; and, for this reason, such
occurrences are extremely rare. Mrs Wesley was of this opinion, as the
following extract, from an unpublished letter to her son John, will
show:—

                                               “WROOTE, _Nov. 1724_.

  “DEAR JACK,—The story of Mr B. has afforded me many curious
  speculations. I do not doubt the fact, but cannot receive it without
  reason why those apparitions should come to us. If they were permitted
  to speak to us, and we had strength to bear such converse; if they had
  commission to inform us of anything relating to their invisible world,
  that would be of any use to us in this; if they could instruct us how
  to avoid any danger, or put us in a way of being wiser or better—there
  would be sense in it; but to appear for no end that we know of, unless
  to frighten people almost out of their wits, seems altogether
  unreasonable.”

No doubt of it; and, for that reason, there was unquestionably a great
end to be answered by the supernatural noises at Epworth parsonage.

The Wesley family were foreordained to exercise upon succeeding
generations, and upon mankind at large, an influence, the effects of
which are without a parallel; and, to qualify them for such a work, it
is not surprising that a more than ordinary agency should have been
employed. No man can really be in earnest in converting sinners unless
he has, not merely opinions respecting an unseen world, but a deep and
_felt_ conviction that such a world exists. The minister, without such a
deep and vivid conviction, may perform ministerial functions, but he has
no anxiety about real ministerial success. On the other hand, let the
man _feel_, in his heart and conscience, that there is a heaven, and
that there is a hell, and it becomes impossible for such a man to be
indifferent respecting the souls of his fellow-men. He knows that every
unconverted sinner whom he meets is exposed to danger infinitely more
fearful than any mere earthly danger the mind can contemplate; and hence
you find in him, not merely the polite reproof, the gentle warning, the
Scripture exposition, or the perfunctory discharge of some other
ministerial duty; but you also, find intense earnestness, which is
sometimes considered fanaticism, and almost insanity; and you likewise
very often find efforts used, and expediences employed, in converting
men which shock the refined tastes and delicate sensibilities of many
who are more politely than earnestly religious; and which from men of
another class—the avowedly profane and disbelieving—provoke contempt and
persecution. Yes; and the deeper, and more living and influential,
becomes the man’s conviction of the existence of heaven, of hell, of
angels, of devils, and of the other great certainties of the world to
come—the more impellent becomes his earnestness, and the more excited
and self-sacrificing are his labours to turn men from sin to holiness,
and from the power of Satan unto God.

Let it be granted that this is true, and then there is no difficulty in
perceiving that it was important, in the highest degree, that a man like
John Wesley should have convictions and feelings in reference to the
unseen world far stronger and deeper than those which men, and even
ministers, ordinarily have; and that there is no need to wonder at the
strange, the mysterious, the supernatural events that happened in his
father’s house; inasmuch as the direct tendency of these events was to
create, or strengthen and intensify, the convictions and feelings
already mentioned.

That such an effect was produced we have undoubted evidence. Emilia
Wesley, writing to her brother Samuel at the time, says: “I am so far
from being superstitious, that I was too much inclined to infidelity;
and I therefore heartily rejoice at having such an opportunity of
convincing myself, past doubt or scruple, of the existence of some
beings besides those we see.”[231] This is remarkable language for a
young, educated lady, twenty-four years of age, to use in reference to
ghosts. So far from shuddering at the thought of having heard and seen a
ghost, she heartily rejoices, because the unusual and strange occurrence
had strengthened her Scriptural belief, and convinced her, beyond a
doubt, of an unseen, vast, and eternal world.

-----

Footnote 231:

  Priestley’s _Letters_, p. 135.

-----

John Wesley was at the Charter-House School, London, and therefore was
not an eye and an ear witness of the disturbances in his father’s
parsonage; but, of course, he heard of them, and that they produced the
same effect in him which they produced in his sister Emilia, is a fact
which no one can reasonably call in question. If there be one feature
more striking than another in John Wesley’s religious character, it is
his deep-rooted, intense, animated, powerful, impelling conviction of
the dread realities of an unseen world. Without this, Wesley never would
and never could have braved so much opprobrium, endured so much
suffering, and undergone so much toil for the sole and single purpose of
saving souls. This great conviction took possession of the man, he loved
it, he cherished it, he tried to impress it upon all his helpers and
upon all his people; and the result of the whole was the calling into
action an agency, which, for earnestness of feeling, oneness of aim,
enthusiastic faith, pleading prayer, unwearied labour, martyr courage,
and spiritual success, will bear comparison with any agency, which, in
any age, it has pleased the great Head of the Christian Church to call
and use, in saving sinners from the agonies of bottomless perdition.

“With my latest breath,” says John Wesley, “will I bear testimony
against giving up to infidels one great proof of the invisible world, I
mean that of witchcraft and apparitions, confirmed by the testimony of
all ages.[232] The English in general, and indeed most of the men of
learning in Europe, have given up all account of witches and apparitions
as mere old wives’ fables. I am sorry for it; and I willingly take this
opportunity of entering my solemn protest against this violent
compliment, which so many that believe the Bible pay to those who do not
believe it. I owe them no such service. I take knowledge, these are at
the bottom of the outcry which has been raised, and with such insolence
spread throughout the nation, in direct opposition not only to the
Bible, but to the suffrage of the wisest and best of men in all ages and
nations. They well know (whether Christians know it or not) that the
giving up of witchcraft is, in effect, giving up the Bible; and they
know on the other hand, that, if but one account of the intercourse of
men with separate spirits be admitted, their whole castle in the
air—Deism, Atheism, Materialism—falls to the ground. I know no reason,
therefore, why we should suffer even this weapon to be wrested out of
our hands. It is true that there are numerous arguments besides this
which abundantly confute their vain imaginations, but we need not be
hooted out of one; neither reason nor religion requires this. One of the
capital objections which I have known urged over and over is, ‘Did you
ever see an apparition yourself?’ No, nor did I ever see a murder; yet I
believe there is such a thing. The testimony of unexceptionable
witnesses fully convinces me both of the one and the other.”[233]

-----

Footnote 232:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. xiv. p. 276.

Footnote 233:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. iii. p. 108.

-----

This was the opinion, not of a young enthusiast, but of a scholar, a
Christian, a minister, and an author, now in the sixty-sixth year of his
age. John Wesley has been censured for his credulity; but did he merit
this? I doubt it. Southey says that “he invalidated his own authority by
listening to the most absurd tales with implicit credulity, and
recording them as authenticated facts.”[234]

-----

Footnote 234:

  Southey’s _Life of Wesley_.

-----

In reply, I venture to assert that Wesley never contended for anything
but what Southey himself admits in the passage from his writings,
already quoted—viz., that “the spirits of the departed are sometimes
permitted to manifest themselves,” and that the reason why such
apparitions are permitted or ordered, is to convince “those unhappy
persons, who looking through the dim glass of infidelity, see nothing
beyond this life, that there are more things in heaven and earth than
are dreamt of in their philosophy?” This admits all that John Wesley
argued for. Besides, it must be borne in mind, that though John Wesley
inserts not a few “strange accounts” of apparitions, &c., in his
journals and in his magazine, it is not true that he says he believed
them all. He simply relates some as they had been related to himself,
and leaves the reader to form his own opinion. In reference to others,
he boldly expresses a firm belief in their truthfulness, because he had
received them on testimony the most credible; and this, be it observed,
is exactly what Mr Southey does in reference to the “strange accounts”
of the disturbances in the Epworth Parsonage; so that if Wesley, the
Reformer, deserves censure for credulity, Southey, the poet-laureate,
deserves just the same.

The reader will excuse what, perhaps, is deemed a lengthened digression;
but it was impossible, in a life of Samuel Wesley, sen., to pass over
the strange noises in his house, and having related them, it would have
been cowardly in the biographer to have shrunk from expressing an
opinion concerning them. My carefully-formed opinion is, that the noises
were really supernatural, and that the end to be answered was specially
to qualify certain members of the Wesley family for the special work for
which God had fore-ordained them.

This opinion may seem wild and extravagant, but it has not been formed
from prejudice or without research. The examination was commenced with a
persuasion that it would be possible to explain all the accounts of the
Epworth noises on Priestley’s supposition that the whole affair was a
clever trick, performed by Wesley’s servants, or Wesley’s enemies, or by
both united; and, indeed, there was a secret wish in the writer’s heart
that it might be so. With Southey, however, and others, he found this to
be impossible, and hence there was nothing for it but to believe that
the noises were supernatural, and to suggest a reason for their
occurrence. This has been done as fairly and as honestly as the writer
has had ability to do it; and now, expecting to be ridiculed, he
entreats the reader not to skim the matter hastily, but to sift it for
himself, remembering John Wesley’s words:—“If but one account of the
intercourse of men with spirits be admitted, the whole castle in the
air—Deism, Atheism, and Materialism—falls to the ground” at once.

There can be no doubt that ninety-nine ghost stories out of a hundred
are fanatical fabrications, but to say that such things as witchcraft
and apparitions do not exist is, to use the words of Dr Anthony Horneck,
to play more hocus-pocus tricks with the Holy Scriptures than, as it is
alleged, the witch of Endor did in raising the prophet Samuel. In former
times men had a propensity to believe too much, at present the
propensity is to believe too little. To philosophic unbelievers,
witchcraft and apparitions may seem impossible and absurd, but the Bible
establishes the fact that such things have existed; and never gives the
least intimation that they are not again to be permitted.




                             CHAPTER XVIII.
                    THE LAST TWENTY YEARS—1714–1735.


Samuel Wesley was born two years after the restoration of Charles II. He
lived throughout the reigns of Charles, of James II., of William III.,
and Queen Mary, of Queen Anne, and of George I., and during the first
eight years of the reign of George II. This covers a period of English
history which, in thrilling interest and importance, is not surpassed by
any other period within the compass of English annals.

Queen Anne died in the year 1714, and her death led to the immediate
accession of George, Electoral Prince of Hanover, the great-grandson of
James I. After reigning thirteen years, he was succeeded, in 1727, by
his son, George II.

The last twenty years of Mr Wesley’s life were full of great events.
Lord Bolingbroke, Lord Oxford, and the Duke of Ormond, were all
impeached of high crimes and misdemeanours; Oxford was committed to the
Tower; Bolingbroke and Ormond escaped to France, and there intrigued for
the restoration of the Stuarts. The Earl of Mar erected the standard of
James, the Pretender, son of James II., at Braemar, in Scotland, and the
three Earls of Hume, Wigtown, and Kinnoul, Lord Deskford, and others,
were arrested and laid fast in Edinburgh Castle. Mr Forster and the Earl
of Derwentwater raised an insurrection in Northumberland, and proclaimed
the Pretender, at Warkworth, with sound of trumpet. The insurgents
marched to Preston, in Lancashire, where they relinquished their arms,
and Forster, Derwentwater, and many other persons of distinction, were
taken prisoners. The gaols of the north were filled with non-juring
Protestants, High Church divines, Popish priests and monks, Jacobite
squires, Highland chiefs, and Lowland lairds. Not a few of these were
shot in heaps, and the rest, above five hundred, were left to starve of
hunger and of cold. Meanwhile, the Pretender himself landed at
Peterhead, made his public entry into Dundee, held a council at Perth,
and ordered the burning of all the towns, villages, corn, and forage
between Perth and Stirling,—an order which was too terribly carried into
execution, the poor inhabitants, women and children, the aged and the
infirm, being exposed to the extremities of the season in one of the
coldest winters that had been known for many generations. Numbers of the
poor sufferers perished of cold and hunger, and mothers, with their
infants at the breast, were found dead among drifts of snow. The
Pretender ultimately made a cowardly escape to France, and the Earl of
Derwentwater, and many others, were, executed for high treason.

In the meantime, George I. quarrelled with his son, the Prince of Wales,
about the christening of a baby, upon which his Royal Highness, being
arrested and ordered to quit St James’s Palace, fixed his residence at
Leicester House, which became the resort of the disaffected of all
classes, and the centre of an increasing turmoil and intrigue.

The South Sea Company Bill was passed by Parliament, and the whole
nation became intoxicated with percentages, dividends, and transfers.
The stock suddenly rose from 130 to above 1000 per cent. Bubble
companies sprang up round the mighty original like mushrooms round a
rotten tree, and prospectuses were issued for making salt water fresh,
for extracting silver out of lead, for importing asses from Spain to
improve the breed of mules, for fatting hogs, for a wheel for perpetual
motion, and for a thousand other things besides. ’Change Alley was
crammed from morning till night with dukes, lords, country squires,
parsons, Dissenting ministers, brokers, and jobbers, and men of every
possible colour and description. Even the Prince of Wales became a
governor of a Welsh Copper Company, and made a gambling profit by the
illegal transaction of not less than £40,000. The bubbles soon burst.
The South Sea stock, which sold in August at 1000, in September sunk
below 300, and in November fell down to 135. Terrible excitement
followed; disgraceful facts were published, and thousands of persons
beggared. One of the political results was a change of government.
Sunderland had to resign the premiership, and Robert Walpole, Earl of
Oxford, the high Tory, and one of the friends of Sacheverell, became
prime minister, and, despite incessant attacks from political enemies of
the most splendid talents, retained the high office for two and twenty
years.

About the same time, the Polish wife of the Pretender gave birth to a
son at Rome, in the presence of seven cardinals. The child, at a most
royal christening, received the name of Charles Edward, and the event
was proclaimed by the Jacobites in all parts of the United Kingdom. New
plots against King George, and in favour of the Pretender and his infant
child, were concocted, Bishop Atterbury being the chief of the
intriguers. Atterbury and his friends engaged to get possession of the
Tower, the Bank, and the Exchequer, and to proclaim King James III.,
simultaneously, in different parts of the country. The scheme exploded,
and Lord North, Lord Orrery, and the Duke of Norfolk were arrested.
Atterbury was brought before the Privy Council, and was committed to the
Tower. The High Church party cried aloud against the sacrilegious arrest
of a bishop. The clergy in London and Westminster offered public prayer
for him. Alexander Pope, his bosom friend, was among Atterbury’s
witnesses. The bishop was deprived of his bishopric, and banished from
his country. He at once threw himself into the service of the Pretender,
and became his confidential agent, first at Brussels, and afterwards at
Paris. He died in exile in 1731.

George I. died of apoplexy, in 1727, whilst travelling with one of his
mistresses, the Duchess of Kendal, to Hanover. At the time, the little,
beggared, and vagabond court of the Pretender was distracted with all
kinds of intrigues, jealousies, and animosities. Atterbury continued to
cabal with priests, monks, and mistresses. James wished to make one more
effort to obtain the throne of his fathers, but Atterbury could afford
him no encouragement, and the scheme was dropped until it was revived by
his son, Charles Edward, in 1745.

The principal ecclesiastical events which occurred during the decline of
Mr Wesley’s life, were the censure pronounced by the Lower House of
Convocation, in 1714, upon Dr Samuel Clark’s famous book, entitled, “The
Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity;” and the bitter and long-continued
controversy arising out of Bishop Hoadley’s “Preservative against the
Principles and Practices of the Nonjurors,” in the course of which
Sherlock, Potter, and Hare took a prominent position, and not fewer than
about seventy different publications were produced.

The social, moral, and religious condition of the country was still far
from satisfactory. Gentlemen wore tie-wigs, and, instead of swords,
carried large oak sticks, with great heads and ugly faces carved
thereon; while ladies, when walking out of doors, wore masks, hooped
petticoats, and scarlet cloaks. Places of political resort, called
mug-houses, were established in all parts of London, where citizens and
tradesmen attacked the Tories with such bitterness, under the double
inspiration of ale and patriotism, that at length the mug-houses had to
be suppressed by Act of Parliament. Royal mistresses were maintained at
court, as a state appendage, and thereby public immorality was kept in
countenance. The mercantile classes grew in wealth, and all who were of
any respectability had the title of _esquire_ appended to their names,
so that Steele complains that England had now become a nation of
esquires. The streets of London were still, for the most part, unpaved,
and the kennels on both sides were usually choked up with all sorts of
garbage. Pickpockets were numerous, and purses, snuff-boxes, and watches
disappeared with a facility incomprehensible to the owners. The
metropolis could boast of not more than a thousand lamps, which were
kept burning only till midnight, and that for only one-half of the year.
Prize fights were frequent, the gladiators, who mangled themselves with
swords and daggers for the amusement of the crowd, subsisting upon the
subscription purses and the admittance fees. In the country, the
monotonous toils of the peasantry were enlivened chiefly by wakes and
fairs, thronged with puppet shows, pedlars’ stalls, raffling tables, and
drinking booths. Among the favourite competitions at fairs, were
grinning matches, in which the candidates grinned most hideously through
a horse’s collar; and trials in whistling, where the person who could
whistle through a whole tune without being put out by the drolleries of
a merry-Andrew that were played off before him, was the victor. At
Christmas, trials of yawning for a Cheshire cheese took place at
midnight, and he who gave the widest and most natural yawn, so as to set
the whole company agape in sympathy, carried off the cheese in triumph.
Young damsels, anxious to know something of their future husbands, were
directed to run until they were out of breath, as soon as they heard the
first notes of the cuckoo, after which, on pulling off their shoes, they
would find in them a hair of the same colour as that of their future
mates. On May-day, a girl had only to bring home a snail, and lay it
upon the ashes of the hearth, and, in crawling about, the reptile would
mark the initial letter of her true love’s name. It is true, that the
belief in antique rites like these was fast departing, but still such
spells were practised in many a peasant’s hut and farmer’s home long
after Mr Wesley’s death.

Towards the end of the reign of George I. the wages of a farm bailiff
were not above £6 a year; and of other farm-servants, from £2 10s. to
£5. The wages of female servants were from thirty to fifty shillings
yearly. Masons, carpenters, and plumbers received a shilling a day
without meat, or sixpence a day with it. Wheat sold for about five
shillings a bushel, but the great bulk of the people were too poor to
purchase it. Even families that were reputed rich used not more than a
peck of wheat a year, and that was used at Christmas. Bread loaves and
pie crusts were made of barley-meal, and puddings and dumplings, made of
oatmeal and suet, were a common dish at rural entertainments. The price
of beef and mutton was about 2½d. per pound, of butter, about 5d., and
of Cheshire cheese, about 3d.[235]

-----

Footnote 235:

  Knight’s _History of England_.

-----

The period which we are now sketching had a fair average of men of
genius and learning. Wake was Archbishop of Canterbury. Kennett, an
intense student, presided over the diocese of Peterborough. Edmund
Gibson, a man of great natural abilities, filled the see of London. John
Potter, the son of a Yorkshire linen-draper, worked his way up to the
primacy. Hoadley, the Bishop of Winchester, was described as the
greatest Dissenter that ever wore a mitre. William Sherlock was writing
his celebrated “Trial of the Witnesses of the Resurrection of Jesus.”
Daniel Waterland was defending the doctrine of the Trinity against the
attacks of Samuel Clarke, and the truth of revealed religion against
Tindal, the infidel. Bishop Butler was composing his “Analogy of
Religion.” Warburton was equiping himself for a diocese, and for the
writing of his “Divine Legation.” Dean Prideaux was composing his
“Connexion of the Old and New Testaments.” Bishop Lowth was busy with
his invaluable works on Hebrew poetry, &c. Thomas Stackhouse was
preparing his “History of the Bible.” George Lavington was developing
the talents which he afterwards employed in writing “The Enthusiasm of
the Papists and Methodists Compared,” and William Law, the well-known
author of the “Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life,” had abandoned
the pulpit, and become tutor to Edward Gibbon, the father of the great
historian.

Among Dissenters, Edmund Calamy was preaching and writing almost
unceasingly. Isaac Watts was an inmate of Abney House, and was composing
hymns which have been sung by myriads. Nathaniel Lardner was completing
his “Credibility of the Gospel History.” Samuel Chandler was lecturing
at the Old Jewry Chapel. Philip Doddridge had opened his Dissenting
Academy at Northampton. Daniel Neal was publishing his “History of the
Puritans;” and John Leland was answering Tindal’s “Christianity as Old
as the Creation.”

Belonging to other classes of distinguished men living at this period,
are Sir Isaac Newton, who, in 1727, was buried with great magnificence
in Westminster Abbey; Edmund Halley, who was Newton’s highly respected
friend; Sir Hans Sloane, who succeeded Newton as the President of the
Royal Society; Nicholas Saunderson, the son of a Yorkshire exciseman,
blind from infancy, and yet one of the most illustrious mathematical
professors that the University of Cambridge ever had; William Emerson,
who, with a dirty wig half off his head, his shirt buttoned behind, and
inexpressibles that disdained the aid of braces, wrote books connected
with almost every branch of the science of mathematics; Richard Bentley,
the son of a Yorkshire blacksmith, who rose to the high office of Regius
Professor of Divinity, and of whom Stillingfleet remarked, that “had he
but the gift of humility, he would be the most remarkable man in
Europe;” Sir Richard Steele, Joseph Addison, Alexander Pope, John Gay,
James Thomson, Matthew Prior, and William Congreve, may all be mentioned
in a cluster; Edward Young, whose “Night Thoughts” have immortalised his
memory; but who was a poet of high distinction long before they were
thought about, having, in 1728, received from Wharton for his satire
entitled “The Universal Passion,” the enormous sum of £3000; Samuel
Johnson, who, at the time of Samuel Wesley’s death, was writing his
first work for the press, “Lobo’s Voyage to Abyssinia;” Allan Ramsay,
who was revolving in his mind the thoughts and charms of his “Gentle
Shepherd;” Edward Cave, the son of a shoemaker, who was now meditating
how to carry into effect his long cherished-scheme of the _Gentleman’s
Magazine_; William Croft, who was revelling among his musical
compositions; Handel, who, in his enormous white wig, was putting
together his unrivalled oratorios; Sir Godfrey Kneller, who was painting
heads to ready-made bodies with inconceivable rapidity; Dahl,
Richardson, Jervas, and others, who were clothing their portraits with
loose drapery, the costume of no age or nation whatever; Hogarth, who
was rising to the zenith of his fame; and Roubiliac, whose chisel was
giving to the marble a vitality which almost breathed.

These are a few of the distinguished men who flourished during the last
twenty years of Samuel Wesley’s life; and among them he himself was not
the least eminent. It was during this period that he prepared and wrote
the greatest work that proceeded from his prolific pen, entitled
“Dissertationes in Librum Jobi—Autore, Samuele Wesley, Rectore de
Epworth in Dioecesi Lincolniensi.” The work is a large-sized folio of
more than 600 pages, of good paper, and beautifully printed. It is
written in Latin, intermixed with innumerable Hebrew and Greek
quotations.

Mr Wesley was employed upon this remarkable work for more than five and
twenty years. It was first begun previous to the burning of his
parsonage, in 1709. He had carefully read the book of Job, first in the
Hebrew text, and secondly in that of the Greek Septuagint. These he
collated together, making, as he proceeded, the notes and observations
that occurred to him. He then procured Walton’s great Polyglott Bible,
containing the Sacred Text in the Hebrew and Greek languages; the
Pentateuch in Samaritan; the Psalms and the New Testament in Syriac,
Arabic, Chaldaic, and Ethiopic; the four Gospels in Persic; together
with the Septuagint and Vulgate versions of both Testaments. Collating
what he had already done with the versions of the book of Job in
Walton’s Polyglott, he greatly increased his notes and observations. He
had proceeded thus far, when the fire of 1709 broke out, and every leaf
of his Polyglott and of his collections on Job were utterly destroyed.

He procured another Polyglott and recommenced his studies. The Hebrew
text was read over again and again. The Alexandrian and Vatican editions
of the Septuagint were diligently compared. All the variations in the
Chaldee, Arabic, and Syriac versions, with the principal critics, as
exhibited in Pool’s “Synopsis,” together with all the fragments of
Origen’s “Hexapla,” were carefully collated. Tindal’s and the Bishop’s
Bible were compared. All the commentators within his reach were
consulted. Pliny, Salmasius, Mercator, Jerome, Eusebius, Strabo,
Diodorus Siculus, Luitsius, Sanson, Purchas, Hakluyt, De la Valle,
Pentinger, Bochart, Calmet, Pineda, Spanheim, Hyde, Bunting, Greaves,
Sandys, Usher, Lloyd, Marshall, Reyland, and Maundrell, were all laid
under contribution to his work. Accompanied by his son John, he visited,
in 1733, the library of Lord Milton at Wentworth House, and acknowledges
that without the kindness of his lordship, the work would have come into
the world mutilated, or would have perished as an abortion. While at
Wentworth House, their stay was prolonged over the Sabbath, and John
Wesley occupied the pulpit of Wentworth Church to the no small
gratification of the parishioners.[236]

-----

Footnote 236:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_, vol. i. p. 327, and Everett’s _Methodism in
  Sheffield_, p. 7.

-----

Mr Wesley also received assistance from Maurice Johnson, Esq., who was a
distinguished antiquarian, and the founder of the Gentleman’s Society at
Spalding, of which many of the greatest men in the nation, including Sir
Isaac Newton, Alexander Pope, Sir Hans Sloane, and Samuel Wesley, were
members. Johnson was born at Spalding, was a student of the Inner
Temple, London, married early a lineal descendant of Sir Thomas Gresham,
had twenty-six children, and was the possessor of a fine collection of
plants and medals. He was held in high esteem for the frankness and
benevolence of his character, and was always ready to communicate the
results of his literary researches to all who applied to him for
information.[237] He contributed one of the maps to Mr Wesley’s “Book of
Job;” and also one of the dissertations on “Job’s Jurisprudence.”[238]

-----

Footnote 237:

  Nicholl’s _Literary Anecdotes_.

Footnote 238:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_, and Nicholl’s _Literary Anecdotes_, vol. iv.
  p. 548.

-----

Assistance was also received from Roger Gale, Esq.,[239] a gentleman who
was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge; possessed a considerable
estate at Scruton, Yorkshire, was Member of Parliament for
Northallerton, the first Vice-President of the Society of Antiquaries,
and was considered one of the most learned men of his age. He died at
Scruton, in 1744, universally esteemed, and left all his MSS. and Roman
coins to his alma mater, Cambridge University.[240]

-----

Footnote 239:

  Nicholl’s _Ibid._

Footnote 240:

  Chambers’s _Biographical Dictionary_.

-----

Mr Wesley was further assisted by his three sons, Samuel, John, and
Charles, who did everything in the work that dutiful sons should do for
an aged parent.

During the last few years of his life, Mr Wesley suffered most painfully
from the gout and palsy, and hence found it necessary to employ an
amanuensis. Two gentlemen who were employed in this capacity, in writing
the “Dissertations on the Book of Job,” were John Romley and John
Whitelamb.

We have no information of Romley’s origin, except that he studied
divinity under Samuel Wesley; graduated at Lincoln College, Oxford; and
was for a time Mr Wesley’s curate. He was a member of the Gentleman’s
Society at Spalding; and, in 1730, presented to that society an “Account
of the Manors, Villages, Seats, and Church of Althorp, in
Lincolnshire.”[241] It is also stated, in Nicholl’s “Literary
Anecdotes,” that he was schoolmaster at Wroote. Seven years after Mr
Wesley’s death, he was curate of Epworth, and refused to allow John
Wesley either to read the prayers or to preach in Epworth church, and,
in Wesley’s presence, delivered a florid and oratorical sermon on
enthusiasts, which led Wesley to preach the same evening on his father’s
tombstone to such a congregation as Epworth had never seen.[242] Seven
months afterwards, John Wesley preached again on the same sacred spot,
and, on asking Romley’s permission to receive the sacrament, received as
an answer, “Tell Mr Wesley I shall not give _him_ the sacrament, for he
is not _fit_.”[243] In August 1744, he was again at Epworth, and heard
Romley preach two sermons so “exquisitely bitter and totally false” as
he had never heard before. In May 1745, when he was again present,
Romley’s “sermon, from beginning to end, was another railing
accusation.”[244] Three years after this, Romley had lost his “soft,
smooth, tuneful voice, without hope of recovery, and spoke in a manner
so shocking to hear that it was impossible for him to make himself heard
by one quarter of his congregation.”[245] He also became a tippler, and
was sometimes “so drunk that he could scarce stand or speak.”[246] In
1751, he became mad, and had to be confined. During the first week of
his confinement, he was for constraining every one that came near him to
kneel down and pray; and frequently cried out, “You will be lost, you
will be damned, unless you know your sins are pardoned.” Two or three
weeks afterwards he died.[247] Such was one of the men who helped Samuel
Wesley in the preparation of his great work, “Dissertationes in Librum
Jobi.”

-----

Footnote 241:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_ and Nicholl’s _Literary Anecdotes_, vol. vi.
  p. 110.

Footnote 242:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. i. p. 354.

Footnote 243:

  _Ibid._, p. 384.

Footnote 244:

  _Ibid._, p. 465.

Footnote 245:

  _Ibid._, vol. ii. p. 99.

Footnote 246:

  _Ibid._, vol. viii. p. 29.

Footnote 247:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. ii. p. 221.

-----

The other amanuensis was John Whitelamb, who was born in the
neighbourhood of Wroote, and received the rudiments of his education at
an endowed school, established there in 1706, in accordance with the
will of Mr Travers, who bequeathed three hundred and seventy-nine acres
of land for the support of schools at Wroote, Hatfield, and Thorne. The
school was placed under the care of Romley, who recommended Whitelamb to
the notice of Mr Wesley as a lad of promising abilities. Mr Wesley took
Whitelamb to his house at Epworth, where he became his amanuensis in
place of Romley, and, for four years, was employed in transcribing his
“Dissertations on the Book of Job;” and in designing the illustrations
for it, several of which were engraved with his own hand.

Under the care of the Rector of Epworth, young Whitelamb obtained a
sufficient knowledge of Latin and Greek to enter the university; and at
the expense, chiefly, of Mr Wesley’s family, he was maintained at
Lincoln College, Oxford, where he obtained his education gratis under Mr
John Wesley, then a fellow of that seat of learning. In a letter to his
father, dated “June 11, 1731,” John Wesley says: “John Whitelamb reads
one English, one Latin, and one Greek book alternately; and never
meddles with a new one in any of the languages till he has ended the old
one. If he goes on as he has begun, I dare take upon me to say, that, by
the time he has been here four or five years, there will not be such a
one of his standing in Lincoln College, perhaps not in the University of
Oxford.”[248]

-----

Footnote 248:

  _Ibid._, vol. xii. p. 6.

-----

Mrs Wesley used to call Whitelamb “poor starveling Johnny,” and no
wonder; for John Wesley writing to his brother, Samuel, a few months
after the date just given, says; “John Whitelamb wants a gown much, and
I am not rich enough to buy him one at present,”[249] and he then states
his purpose to use his influence among his friends to beg the money
requisite to make the purchase.

-----

Footnote 249:

  _Ibid._, p. 22.

-----

In 1733, Whitelamb became Samuel Wesley’s curate, and was married to his
daughter, Mary. In one short year he became a widower, and was so
overwhelmed with grief that he wished to get away from the scene of his
sorrows, and to embark in the contemplated mission to Georgia.

On the 6th of June 1742, John Wesley, being refused the use of the
Epworth church, preached standing upon his father’s tombstone.
Whitelamb, who was then the rector at Wroote, was one of his
congregation, and, five days after, wrote him a most touching letter. He
says: “I saw you at Epworth. Fain would I have spoken to you, but that I
am quite at a loss how to address you. Your way of thinking is so
extraordinary that your presence creates awe, as if you were an
inhabitant of another world. I retain the highest veneration and
affection for you. The sight of you moves me strangely. My heart
overflows with gratitude. I feel, in a high degree, all that tenderness
and yearning of bowels with which I am affected towards every branch of
Mr Wesley’s family. I cannot refrain from tears, when I reflect this is
the man who at Oxford was more than a father to me.

“I am quite forgot. None of the family ever honours me with a line! Have
I been ungrateful? I appeal to sister Patty; I appeal to Mr Ellison
whether I have or no. I have been passionate, fickle, a fool; but I hope
I shall never be ungrateful.

“Dear sir, is it in my power to serve or to oblige you in any way? Glad
I should be that you should make use of me. God open all our eyes and
lead us into truth, whatever it be.

                                              “JOHN WHITELAMB.”[250]

-----

Footnote 250:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1778, p. 183.

-----

John Wesley did make use of him, for, two days after, he preached twice
in Whitelamb’s church[251]; a circumstance which gave great offence to
the High Church party, and was likely to involve Whitelamb in
considerable trouble at the approaching triennial visitation.[252]

-----

Footnote 251:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. i. p. 356.

Footnote 252:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1778, p. 185.

-----

John Wesley says that at this time, and for some years after, Whitelamb
did not believe the Christian revelation.[253] I can hardly understand
this, unless it arose out of Whitelamb stating to Charles Wesley that he
looked upon the doctrines preached by himself and his brother “as of ill
consequence,” and that he had great reason to think that, what he calls
“the seal and testimony of the Spirit was, in the generality of their
followers, merely the effect of a heated fancy.”[254] In the same
letter, however, he speaks of John Wesley in the kindest terms, and
says—“He behaved to me truly like himself. I found in him what I have
always experienced heretofore, the gentleman, the friend, the brother,
the Christian.”

-----

Footnote 253:

  _Ibid._

Footnote 254:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1778, p. 185.

-----

Whitelamb died in July 1769,[255] and was succeeded by a member of the
Whitelamb family, who was remarkable for his various learning, and
especially for his skill in mathematics.[256]

-----

Footnote 255:

  _Ibid._, 1845, p. 151.

Footnote 256:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

In 1844, there was an aged female at Wroote, who remembered John
Whitelamb, and had been a scholar in his school. She described him as a
person of retiring habits, and fond of solitude. She was present when he
was suddenly seized, on his way to perform divine service at the church,
with the illness which shortly terminated in his death; and stated that
his funeral was attended by a considerable number of clergymen, who thus
paid their last tribute of respect to a departed friend.[257] On a small
stone in the churchyard, about two feet long and one foot broad, is the
following inscription:—“In memory of John Whitelamb, Rector of this
Parish thirty-five years. Buried 29th July 1769, aged 62 years. Worthy
of imitation. This at the cost of Francis Wood, Esq., 1772.”[258]

-----

Footnote 257:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1845, p. 151.

Footnote 258:

  Stonehouse’s _History of the Isle of Axholme_.

-----

Dr Adam Clarke says Whitelamb was a Deist; and John Wesley says that for
years he did not believe the Christian revelation. As to Dr Clarke’s
assertion, I demur to it _in toto_; and, as to Mr Wesley’s I agree with
Southey in regarding it as a hasty and loose expression, only applicable
to the peculiar—the great and glorious doctrines—which Wesley and his
band of helpers were the means of rescuing from oblivion, and of
propagating throughout the land. Still Wesley always regarded him as a
backslider, and, after his death, exclaimed—“Oh, why did not he die
forty years ago, while he knew in whom he had believed!”[259]

-----

Footnote 259:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

As an apology for these lengthened remarks respecting John Whitelamb,
the reader is reminded that this able man married one of Mr Wesley’s
daughters, and, for four years, acted as his amanuensis in transcribing
his “Dissertations on the Book of Job.”

Mr Wesley’s Dissertations are fifty-three in number, (Dr Adam Clarke, in
mistake, says thirty-five,) and many of them, besides being immensely
learned, are in a high degree interesting and curious. The following is
a list of them:—

   1. Whether the Book of Job be a true history or a poetic parable?
   2. The Author of the Book.
   3. The Dramatic Construction of the Book.
   4. The Pastoral Songs, &c., in the Sacred Scriptures.
   5. The Elegance and Rhetoric of the Book of Job.
   6. Parallels from Homer.
   7. The Name, or Names of Job.
   8. The Posterity of Joktan.
   9. The Posterity of Chanaan.
   10. The Phœnician Shepherds.
   11. The Nations Overthrown by Chedorlaomer.
   12. The Children of Abraham by Hagar.
   13. The Five Cities of the Plain.
   14. Allusions in the Book of Job to the Fall of Angels and of Man; to
   the Antediluvians and the Flood; to the Precepts of Noah and the
   Sabbath; to the Destruction of Sodom, &c.
   15. The History of Edom.
   16. The Red Sea.
   17. The Gulf of Persia.
   18. Arabia Petræa.
   19. The Desert of Arabia.
   20. Arabia Felix.
   21. The Magi who visited Christ.
   22. On Chamo, Cush, and their Posterity.
   23. Idumea.
   24. The Four Quarters of the Globe.
   25. The Children of Job.
   26. The Wife of Job.
   27. The Friends of Job.
   28. The Enemies of Job.
   29. The Country of Job.
   30. The Time of Job.
   31. Job’s Knowledge of the Military Art.
   32. Job’s Jurisprudence.
   33. Metals, Trees, Herbs, &c.
   34. Gems.
   35. Calamities of Job not recited in the Prologue of the Book.
   36. Constellations and Meteors.
   37. Phœnicia.
   38. Behemoth and Leviathan.
   39. The Origin of Evil.
   40. On Idolatry.
   41. Sabians and Sabianism.
   42. Zoroasteranianism.
   43. Poetical Description of Animals.
   44. Serpent-worship.
   45. Hades.
   46. The Magi of the Ancients.
   47 Balaam.
   48. Parallels from the Sacred Scriptures—the Persians, the Egyptians,
   the Greeks, the Romans, and the Saxons.
   49. The Mode of Writing among the Ancients.
   50. Death and the Resurrection.
   51. The Recent Mode of Interpreting Scripture.
   52. The Faith of Job and Elihu.
   53. Additions of the Septuagint to the end of Job.

Unhappily the whole of these Dissertations are written in Latin, and,
therefore, are never likely to be read except by the lettered few. Who
will undertake to furnish a correct translation of some of them for a
periodical like the _Methodist Magazine_?

After the Dissertations, there are nearly two hundred pages occupied
with the Hebrew text of the Book of Job, collated with the Chaldee
Paraphrase, and with the Septuagint in its best editions; and also with
the Syriac and Arabic versions; likewise with the Latin versions of
Castellio, Montanus, St. Ambrose, Junius Tremellius, Piscator, and of
the Zurich divines, together with the English version of Tindal, and the
present authorised version. Every verse of the whole book of Job was
collated in all the versions above-mentioned, and all the variations set
down. This must have been an immense labour. Dr Adam Clarke says—“It is
one of the most complete things of the kind I have ever met with, and
must be invaluable to any man who may wish to read the book of Job
critically.”

The frontispiece of Mr Wesley’s large folio is a portrait of himself in
the character of Job. He is represented as without beard, and without
whiskers; as wearing a small cap; as clothed in a long, loose-flowing
robe; and as sitting in an antique chair with a sceptre in his hand, two
pyramids being placed behind him, and above him the arch and portcullis
of an ancient gate.

The book is also illustrated with a most hideous picture of the five
cities of the plain, probably designed and executed by the untutored
hand of John Whitelamb; two maps of the region of the Red Sea; another
plate, pretending to represent the tombs of Rachel, Dionysius, the
Maccabees, Semiramis, and Herod the Great; two maps of Arabia; a map of
Maundell’s Journey from Aleppo to Jerusalem; an illustration of the
Borealis; together with large-sized engravings of the hippopotamus, the
crocodile, and the horse.

In reference to the horse, the following anecdote is worth preserving.
It appears that Lord Oxford had in his possession, what was supposed to
be, the finest Arab horse in existence. His Lordship had already shown
great kindness to Mr Wesley’s son Samuel at Westminster, and, thus
encouraged, the rector wrote, saying he was wishful to illustrate his
Dissertations by an engraving of the Arab horse, and that he had been
told that his lordship’s “Bloody Arab” was the finest animal of that
breed that existed. He adds:—“I have an ambition to get him drawn by the
best artist we can find, and place him as the greatest ornament of my
work. If your lordship has a picture of him I would beg that my engraver
may take a draft from it, or, if not, that my son may have the liberty
to get one drawn from life.”[260]

-----

Footnote 260:

  The rector of Epworth was under considerable obligations to Lord
  Oxford, as appears from the dedication of his son Samuel’s poems to
  that nobleman. He writes:—“Neither obscurity of condition, nor
  distance of place, could prevent your lordship from distinguishing and
  encouraging a worthy clergyman, my father, in his indefatigable
  researches after truth, and his unfashionable studies in divinity;
  which, perhaps, might have been left unfinished without that
  encouragement.”—_Poems on Several Occasions_, by S. WESLEY, London,
  1736.

-----

Samuel Wesley, jun., shared the intimate friendship of this
distinguished statesman, and was a frequent guest at his lordship’s
house; and there can be little doubt that, through him, the father’s
request was granted, especially remembering that Lord Oxford was not
only a great encourager of literature, but the greatest collector, in
his time, of curious books and manuscripts, and that he it was who
formed the nucleus of the celebrated Harleian library, now one of the
richest treasures of the British Museum.

Prefixed to Mr Wesley’s Dissertations is a list of subscribers’ names,
numbering more than three hundred, and including thirty-one nobles,
fifteen bishops, and twenty-two deans and other dignitaries of the
Church. The following are some of the distinguished names in this
illustrious list, given alphabetically:—Earl of Ashburnham, Bishop
Atterbury, Lord Bathurst, Lord Bolingbroke, Duke of Buckinghamshire,
Earl of Burlington, Archbishop of Canterbury, Bishop of London, Earl of
Malton, Earl of Orrery, Earl of Oxford, Alexander Pope, Earl of
Portmore, Sir Hans Sloane, Dean Swift, Lord Tyrconnel, Dr Waterland,
Samuel, John, Charles, and Matthew Wesley, and William Whiston. Such
names are a strong intimation of Mr Wesley’s high repute as a literary
man.

The proposals for publishing the Dissertations were circulated in 1729,
but the book was not ready for the market until about the year 1736,
that being the date of a copy now before us. The work was dedicated by
permission to Queen Caroline, to whom it was presented by John Wesley,
two days before he set sail for Georgia. He says, her Majesty received
it with “many good words and smiles.”[261] Dr Clarke relates that, when
Wesley was introduced into the royal presence, the Queen was romping
with her maids of honour; but she suspended her play, took the book from
his hand, and said, “It is very prettily bound,” and then laid it down
without opening it. He rose up, bowed, walked backward, and withdrew.
The Queen bowed and smiled, and immediately resumed her sport.[262]

-----

Footnote 261:

  Priestley’s _Original Letters_, p. 56.

Footnote 262:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Samuel Badcock, whose friendship for the Wesley family was dubious,
says, Mr Wesley’s Dissertations were “never held in any estimation by
the learned.” John Wesley replied, “I doubt that. The book certainly
contains immense learning, but of a kind which I do not admire.”[263]

-----

Footnote 263:

  _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1785, p. 246.

-----

Bishop Warburton, of whom Dr Johnson says, “his knowledge was too
multifarious to be always exact,” writing to Bishop Hurd, remarks: “Poor
Job! It was his eternal fate to be persecuted by his friends. His three
comforters passed sentence of condemnation upon him, and he has been
executing _in effigie_ ever since. He was first bound to the stake by a
long _Catena_ of Greek fathers; then tortured by Pineda; then strangled
by Caryll; and afterwards cut up by Wesley, and anatomised by Garnet. He
was ordained, I think, by a fate like that of Prometheus, to lie still
upon his dunghill, and have his brains sucked out by owls.”[264]

-----

Footnote 264:

  Nicholl’s _Literary Anecdotes_.

-----

As a set-off to Warburton’s slap-dash wit, we give a letter which
Alexander Pope addressed to Dean Swift in the year 1730:—“This is a
letter extraordinary, to do and say nothing but recommend to you a pious
and good work, and for a good and honest man; moreover, he is about
seventy, and poor, which you might think included in the word ‘honest.’
I shall think it a kindness done to myself, if you can propagate Mr
Wesley’s subscription for his Commentary on Job among your divines,
(bishops excepted, of whom there is no hope,) and among such as are
believers, or readers of Scripture. Even the curious may find something
to please them, if they scorn to be edified. It has been the labour of
eight years[265]of this learned man’s life. I call him what he is—a
learned man; and I engage you will approve his prose more than you
formerly could his poetry. Lord Bolingbroke is a favourer of it, and
allows you to do your best to serve an old Tory and a sufferer for the
Church of England, though you are a Whig, as I am.”[266]

-----

Footnote 265:

  In reality, it was much more than this.

Footnote 266:

  Nicholl’s _Literary Anecdotes_.

-----

Lord Oxford wrote to Swift in the same year, requesting the same favour,
and says: “The person concerned is a worthy, honest man; and by this
work of his he is in hopes to get free of a load of debt which has hung
upon him for some years. This debt of his is not owing to any folly or
extravagance, but to the calamity of his house having been twice burned,
which he was obliged to rebuild; and having but small preferment in the
Church, and a large family of children, he has not been able to
extricate himself out of the difficulties these accidents have brought
upon him. Three sons he has bred up well at Westminster, and they are
excellent scholars. The eldest has been one of the ushers in Westminster
School since the year 1714. He is a man in years, yet hearty and able to
study many hours in a day. This, in short, is the ease of an honest,
poor, worthy clergyman; and I hope you will take him under your
protection. I cannot pretend that my recommendation should have any
weight with you, but as it is joined to and under the wing of Mr Pope.”

We have now passed in review the whole of Mr Wesley’s literary
productions, excepting one. This was “A Letter to a Curate,” originally
written for the use of the brother of the Rev. Mr Hoole of Haxey, who
was about to be ordained, and to become Samuel Wesley’s curate at
Epworth. A year or two after, the manuscript was sent to John Wesley,
who published it shortly after his father’s death, and says, in his
preface, that the reader will “find strong sense and deep experience, in
plain, clear, and unaffected words, and a strain of piety running
through the whole, worthy a soldier of Jesus Christ.” This
considerably-sized pamphlet is now extremely scarce, but the reader may
find a reprint of it in an Appendix to Jackson’s “Life of Charles
Wesley,” vol. ii. p. 500. As the pamphlet throws great light upon Mr
Wesley’s character, displays his immense reading, mentions the leading
men of his times with whom he was personally acquainted, and makes
several statements respecting his own proceedings as a parish priest, we
take the liberty of giving a lengthened outline of its valuable
contents.[267]

-----

Footnote 267:

  The editor of Dr Clarke’s _Wesley Family_ has thrown out the hint that
  it is not improbable that the “Clergyman’s Vade Mecum” was written by
  Samuel Wesley; but I can find no evidence of this. The third edition
  of this work, published, in 2 vols., in 1709, is now before me. The
  full title of the first volume is, “The Clergyman’s Vade Mecum; or, an
  Account of the Ancient and Present Church of England; the Duties and
  Rights of the Clergy, and of their Privileges and Hardships;
  containing full Directions relating to Ordination, Institution,
  Induction, and most of the Difficulties which they commonly meet with
  in the Discharge of their Office.” The title of the second volume is,
  “The Clergyman’s Vade Mecum, Part II.; containing the Canonical Codes
  of the Primitive, Universal, Eastern, and Western Church, down to the
  year of our Lord 787. Done from the Original Greek and Latin; omitting
  no Canon, Decree, or any part of them that is curious or instructive.
  With explanatory Notes, a large Index, and a Preface showing the
  usefulness of the work; with some Reflections on Moderate
  Nonconformity, and the Rights of the Church.”

-----

The points upon which Mr Wesley gives advice to his young curate are—1.
His general aims and intentions; 2. His converse and demeanour among the
parishioners; 3. His reading the liturgy; 4. His studies; 5. His
preaching and catechising. 6. His administering the sacraments. 7. The
administration of discipline.

In reference to the first, he avers that the end to be aimed at by every
Christian minister is “the glory of God, the edifying of His Church, and
the salvation of immortal souls.” The man who makes the attainment of
worldly dignity any part of his design, falls not far short of the
iniquity of Simon Magus, nor can he expect a much better end. Without
the aim being right, a clergyman’s life would be one of the most
tasteless and wearisome things in the world. “For my own part,” he says,
“I had rather be a porter, or even a pettifogger.” To keep the heart
right in this matter, he recommends his curate to read, once a quarter,
the form of ordination; just as Methodist preachers, some years ago,
were enjoined to read the “Liverpool Minutes.”

As it regards “converse and demeanour,” he strongly advises that, when
parish business calls the minister to a public-house, as it sometimes
may, his stay in such a place should be as brief as possible; and that
when visiting, especially the rich, he should guard himself against the
bottle and against bribes. He recommends him to “visit his whole parish
from house to house, and that even the men and maid-servants; for a good
shepherd knows his sheep by name.” He advises him to take down the name
and age of every person, and to ascertain who can read; who can say
their prayers and catechisms; who have been confirmed; who have received
the communion; who are of age to do it; and who have prayers in their
families. He had attempted this twice or thrice himself during the first
twelve years of his ministry at Epworth; but during the last twelve,
since his house was burned, he had been so much diverted, that, though
he had begun such a systematised visiting, he had not been able to quite
finish it. He recommends the curate to visit the sick, even though not
requested; and to endeavour to suppress the new custom of burying by
candlelight.

With regard to “reading prayers,”[268] he expresses a confident hope
that his curate will do as he has done, viz., read the prayers on every
holiday, Wednesday, and Friday; and, he says, he should be pleased if
this was done also on the eves of holidays. He remarks that there are
but very few who read the Liturgy as it should be read; and that he has
heard a hundred good preachers to one good reader. He says—“I am of
opinion that the prayers, and even the lessons, might be pricked, as are
the psalms and anthems, so as to be read properly and musically.” He
urges his friend to avoid “unequal cadences,” and “incondite whinings;
laying weight where there ought to be none, or omitting it where it is
requisite, like the music of a Quakers’ meeting.” “He must,” he adds,
“avoid a running over the prayers, as if we were in haste to be at the
end of them; and, on the other side, a drawling, canting manner, either
of which will be apt to render the reader, if not the prayers
themselves, contemptible.”

-----

Footnote 268:

  In an article in the _Athenian Oracle_, vol. i. p. 459, on the use of
  extempore prayer, Samuel Wesley seems to be in favour of a medium
  between the use of extempore prayer and a form of prayer. This he
  calls “premeditated prayer;” that is, premeditated not in reference to
  words but things. At the same time he says—“There are very few who
  have command of words enough to express themselves as they ought on
  such an occasion, and therefore a _form_ is the safe way.”

-----

Respecting psalmody, he says that, as they cannot, at Epworth, “reach
anthems and cathedral music, they must be content with their present
parochial way of singing.” Indeed, he inclines to think they must also
be content with their “grandsire Sternhold,” for Bishop Beveridge had
declared that the common people could understand the Psalms of Sternhold
better than those of Tate and Brady. Wesley says there may be truth in
this, for the common people “have a strange genius at understanding
nonsense.” He adds that the people at Epworth “did once sing well, and
it cost a pretty deal to teach them.” The singing, however, was now not
so good as formerly, and he hopes his curate will tune them up again by
meeting them at church in the long winter evenings, and by getting the
scholars to sing as they used to do when he first came thither.

Concerning his “studies,” Mr Wesley advises his curate to add to his
knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages a knowledge of the Hebrew,
for that is necessary in order to be a complete divine. He contends
that, while logic, history, law, pharmacy, philosophy, chronology,
geography, mathematics, poetry, music, and other parts of learning, are
to be read and studied, they must all be used as auxiliaries to
divinity. The Bible, however, must be the main subject of a clergyman’s
studies, and this ought always to be read with devotion. The Apocryphal
Books ought not to be neglected, being of great and venerable antiquity,
and some of them referred to by St Paul, and perhaps also by our
Saviour. Mr Wesley then proceeds to enumerate a host of writers whose
works are worthy of being read or otherwise. Tertullian had fire enough,
and Justin and Clemens Alexandrinus sense and learning; but Origen is
worth them and all others put together. Irenæus is learned, acute,
orthodox, zealous, and devout; and St Cyprian is safer than his master
Tertullian; but Lactantius, notwithstanding the purity of his language
and the beauty of his periods, is so novel a Christian, or so rank an
heretic, that he scarce had patience to read him. Socrates and Plato are
almost transcripts of Pythagoras. Tully is worth all the Romans. Seneca
is well worth reading. And thus Samuel Wesley runs through all the
principal writers, Christian and heathen, from the birth of Christ to
the time of the Reformation. He had not read much of Luther; Melancthon
was ingenious and polite; Calvin worthy of being read with caution.
Bucer was pious, learned, and moderate; Bellarmine had all the strength
of the Romanists; Fisher was a great man; Gardiner was far from being
contemptible; Erasmus useful and pleasant; Jewel neat and strong;
Cranmer pious and erudite; but Ridley, among all the Reformers, for
clearness, closeness, strength, and learning, stands pre-eminent.
Chillingworth was one of the best disputants in the world; Grotius was
the prince of commentators, and worth all the rest, though he seems not
always consistent with himself; Hammond was learned, judicious, and
orthodox, if you throw aside his Jerusalem, and Gnostics, and Simon
Magus; Sanderson was a master casuist; Mede has many bright and happy
thoughts; the critics were worth a king’s ransom, and most of them might
be found in Pool’s Synopsis.

Speaking of his own contemporaries, Wesley proceeds to say:—Tillotson
brought the art of preaching near perfection, but Stillingfleet was a
more universal scholar; and yet Archbishop Sharpe was a more popular
pulpit orator than either. Bishop Pearson was a man of almost inimitable
sense, piety, and learning, and his work on the creed ought to be in
every clergyman’s study, though unable to purchase anything else than
the Bible and the Book of Common Prayer. Bishop Bull was a strong and
nervous writer; and the sermons of Bishop Beveridge were in themselves a
library. Bishop Spratt was one of the first masters of the English
language. Bishop Burnet, notwithstanding his Scotticisms, had a
prodigious genius, and a body that would bear almost anything, for he
himself had told Wesley that, at one period of his life, his
circumstances were such that, to retrieve them, he lived upon
three-halfpence a day. Bishop Ken made almost all who heard him preach
begin to weep; Bishop Hopkins was judicious and useful; Isaac Barrow
strong, masculine, and noble; Dodwell had piety and learning, but was
overfond of nostrums; Ray, Derham, and Boyle were as useful as
entertaining; Calamy’s, Smalridge’s, and Atterbury’s sermons were
standards; Whitby was learned and laborious, though he had brought his
squirt to quench hell-fire, and to diminish the honour of his Lord and
Master; and Le Clerc had more wit than learning, and less faith than
either. Judge Hale was strong, pious, and nervous; Nelson genteel,
zealous, and instructive; Leslie, against the Jews and Deists, was
demonstrative; Kettlewell, wonderfully pious and devout; and Hickes’s
Letters against the Papists unanswerable. Among his old friends, the
Dissenters, Mr Wesley mentions Richard Baxter, whom he had heard preach,
and whose practical writings, as well as sermons, had a strange fire and
pathos; Dr Annesley, a man of great piety and of very good learning;
Charnock, diffuse and lax, but very good; Howe, close, strong, and
metaphysical; Alsop, merry and witty; Bates, polite and polished;
Williams, orthodox and possessed of good sense, especially that of
getting money; Calamy, whose style is not amiss; Bradbury, who is fire
and feather; Burgess, who had more sense than he made use of; Shower,
polite; Cruse, unhappy; Owen, a gentleman and a scholar; Matthew Henry,
commended for his laborious work on the Old Testament; and Clarkson,
Tillotson’s tutor, who knew more about the Fathers than all the
Dissenters put together.

After going through this long list of authors, with whose writings he
was himself more or less acquainted, Mr Wesley takes up the fifth
section of his pamphlet—viz., Preaching; and says here “he ought to
blush for pretending to give rules for that wherein he was never master,
but it is far easier to direct than it is to practise.” First, he
advises his curate to prepare a course of sermons on all the principles
of religion, so as to comprise, as near as may be, the whole body of
divinity. He then proceeds to say—“I sincerely hate what some call a
fine sermon, with just nothing in it. I cannot for my life help thinking
that it is very like our fashionable poetry—a mere polite nothing.” He
recommends that the divisions of a sermon be not too long, or too many;
that its illustrations be proper and lively, its proofs close and
pointed, its motives strong and cogent, and its inferences and
application natural, and yet laboured with all the force of sacred
eloquence. He also recommends a prudent, occasional mixture of
controversial sermons against papists, sectaries, and heretics; and that
the curate, instead of reading his sermons, should repeat them from
memory. He advises him to preach suitable sermons in every year, on
November 5th, January 30th, May 29th, and August 1st.

In reference to “Catechising,” he says, the curate will have assistance
from the pious and careful schoolmaster, in whose house he will live. He
thinks that catechising had much to do with the speedy and wide
propagation of the Reformed religion, and has little hope that the
Church of England will maintain its position if this be neglected. He
expresses the opinion that catechising should not be confined to the
season of Lent only, but should be practised at evening service on all
Sundays and holidays; and that when the children have been made perfect
in the ordinary church catechism, they should be taught some larger one.
He himself had adopted this plan, using, as his second catechism, that
published by Bishop Beveridge.

As to the administration of the Sacraments, he hopes that the curate
will succeed in doing what he had never been able to do himself—viz.,
getting the godfathers and godmothers at baptisms to repeat the
responses. The greatest struggle of his ministerial life at Epworth, had
been to prevail with the people to bring their children to church for
public baptism, and their wives to be churched. In many instances,
parents deferred the baptism of their children so long that they brought
such monsters of men-children to the font as were almost enough to break
his arms while holding them, and whose manful voices were enough to
disturb and alarm the whole congregation. This was an evil which ought
to be set right. The Lord’s Supper was administered in Epworth Church
once a month, and a collection made, at which Mr Wesley, for the sake of
example, always gave something himself. This sacrament money, when
entered in the church book, was kept in the box appointed for it, with
three canonical locks and keys, one of the keys being held by the
rector; three-fourths of the money were paid for the children at the
charity school, and the remainder put into the bank for such poor sick
people as had no constant relief from the parish, and who came to the
sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.

The enforcement of Discipline was not the least difficult task. He
requests that the curate will direct the churchwardens to enforce the
ninetieth canon, and diligently see that all the parishioners resort to
church, and not stay idling in the churchyard or porch; and that he keep
the churchwardens themselves from the alehouse during divine service. He
states that he had always brought to public penance anti-nuptial and
no-nuptial fornicators. He advises that there be no disputations with
Dissenters, for when he first came to Epworth he had practised this, but
his opponents always outfaced and outlunged him, and, at the end, they
were just where they were at the beginning.

Mr Wesley then concludes by saying, that he had spent some weeks in
writing “this tedious and most unfashionable letter;” and adds, “Go on
in the way of duty. I hope there will be no dispute between us, but who
shall run fastest and fairest; and if I am distanced, I will limp after
you as fast as I can with such a weight.”

Such are the salient points and facts in Mr Wesley’s letter to a young
clergyman. John Wesley acted upon some of its advices in Georgia with
respect to visiting and catechising, and strongly urged the same upon
his first itinerants; and George Whitefield acknowledged, in 1737, that
the letter had been of service to himself.[269]

-----

Footnote 269:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1798, p. 35.

-----

Thus did Mr Wesley labour to benefit the church and to bless mankind.
Meanwhile, as usual, he was struggling with embarrassments, and with no
ordinary trials. Mrs Wesley, in 1721, states that she was rarely in
health, and Mr Wesley began to suffer from the infirmities of age. Emily
had been compelled to become a teacher in a boarding-school; Sukey had
been married to a man little better than a fiend; other children were at
home, wanting neither industry nor capacity for business; but the
parents could do nothing for them. The eldest daughter was absent, the
second ruined, and all the rest in great distress. The parsonage was not
half furnished, nor the family half clothed, but amid all, the venerable
man was patient, and his wife loving. “Did I not know,” she writes,
“that Almighty wisdom hath views and ends in fixing the bounds of our
habitation, which are out of our ken, I should think it a thousand
pities that a man of his brightness, and rare endowments of learning and
useful knowledge, in relation to the Church of God, should be confined
to an obscure corner of the country, where his talents are buried, and
he determined to a way of life for which he is not so well qualified as
I could wish.”

In the midst of all this, he obtained, in 1726, the small rectory of
Wroot, about five miles from Epworth, and here he sometimes resided, but
this added but little to his domestic comforts, as the profits barely
covered the expenses of serving it.[270] Even as late as 1821, the
number of houses in the parish were not more than fifty-four, and
contained a population of only two hundred and eighty-five.[271] The
church, in the days of Wesley, was a small brick building, having,
however, some ancient sepulchral monuments.[272] The parsonage-house was
covered with a roof of thatch, the country round about was little better
than a swamp, and the inhabitants are thus described by the gifted pen
of Mehetabel Wesley in lines addressed to her sister Emilia:—

        “Fortune has fixed thee in a place
        Debarred of wisdom, wit, and grace—
        High births and virtue equally they scorn,
        As asses dull, on dunghills born;
        Impervious as the stones, their heads are found;
        Their rage and hatred steadfast as the ground.
        With these unpolished wights, thy youthful days
        Glide slow and dull, and Nature’s lamp decays:
        Oh what a lamp is hid, ’midst such a sordid race!”[273]

-----

Footnote 270:

  Mr Kirk says the living of Wroot is now worth £400 a year with
  residence.

Footnote 271:

  Stonehouse’s _History of Axholme_.

Footnote 272:

  _Ibid._

Footnote 273:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Mr Wesley wished his son, John, to become his curate at Wroot, and, for
a time, he officiated in that capacity; but, in 1729, he was obliged to
relinquish his duties there, in order to fulfil the office of Moderator
of Lincoln College, Oxford.[274]

-----

Footnote 274:

  Moore’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i. p. 149.

-----




                              CHAPTER XIX.
                           LETTERS—1725–1735.


It has often been said that, generally speaking, there is nothing which
develops a man’s character so much as his own private letters to his
friends. Hitherto we have made sparing use of Mr Wesley’s
correspondence, and hence, that the reader may have an opportunity, by
means of such a test, to form his own opinion respecting this venerable
man, we devote this chapter entirely to his “letters.” All the letters
inserted here were written within the last eleven years of his eventful
life—many of them have been previously published; but, with respect to
others, this is the first time that they have been submitted to the
public eye. A few notes may be useful; but, with this exception, the
chapter will consist entirely of letters. The chapter is long, but the
writer flatters himself that the reader will thank him for it.

                             TO HIS SON JOHN.

                                          “WROOT, _Jan. 26, 1724–5_.

  “DEAR SON,—I am so well pleased with your decent behaviour, or, at
  least, with your letters, that I hope I shall have no occasion to
  remember some things that are past. Since you have now, for some time,
  bit upon the bridle, I will take care hereafter to put little honey
  upon it as oft as I am able; but then it shall be of my own mere
  motion, as the last £5 was; for I will bear no rival in my kingdom.

  “I did not forget you, neither Dr M.;[275] but have moved that way as
  much as possible; though, I must confess, hitherto with no great
  prospect of success.

  “As to what you mention of entering into holy orders,[276] it is
  indeed a great work. I am pleased to find you think it so—as well that
  you don’t admire a callow clergyman any more than I do. As to the
  motives you take notice of, it is no harm to desire getting into that
  office, even with Eli’s sons, ‘to get a piece of bread;’ for ‘the
  labourer is worthy of his hire;’ though a desire and intention to lead
  a stricter life, and a belief one should do so, is a better reason.
  But this should by all means be begun before, or else, ten to one, it
  will deceive us afterwards. If a man be unwilling and undesirous to
  enter into orders, it is easy to guess whether he can say, with common
  honesty, that he believes he is moved by the Holy Spirit to do it. But
  the principal spring and motive, to which all the former should be
  secondary, must certainly be the glory of God, the service of His
  Church, with the edification of our neighbour; and woe to him who,
  with any meaner leading view, attempts so sacred a work; for which he
  should take all the care he possibly can, with the advice of wiser and
  elder men, especially imploring, with all humility, sincerity, and
  intention of mind, with fasting and prayer, the direction and
  assistance of Almighty God and His Holy Spirit, to qualify and prepare
  himself for it.

  “The knowledge of the languages is a considerable help in this matter,
  which, I thank God, all my three sons have, to a very laudable degree;
  though God knows, I had never more than a smattering of them. But
  then, this must be prosecuted to the thorough understanding the
  original text of the sacred Scriptures by intent and long conversing
  with them.

  “You ask me which is the best commentary on the Bible? The several
  paraphrases and translations of it, in the Polyglott, compared with
  the original, and with one another, are, in my opinion, to an honest,
  devout, industrious, humble mind, infinitely preferable to any
  commentary I ever saw written upon it; though Grotius is the best,
  (for the most part,) especially on the Old Testament. Compare the
  Hebrew Bible, the Vulgate, and the Samaritan in the Polyglott, in the
  morning. In the afternoons, which you will; but be sure to walk an
  hour, if fair, in the fields. Get Thirleby’s “Chrysostom de
  Sacerdotio.” Master it; digest it. Some advices I drew up for Mr
  Hoole, my curate, may not be unuseful to you. Pray let no one but
  yourself see them.

  “By all this you see I am not for your going over-hastily into orders.
  When I am for your taking them, you shall know; and it is not
  impossible but I may then be with you, if God so long spare my life
  and health.

  “I like your verses on the 85th Psalm. I would not have you bury your
  talent. All are well. Work and write while you can. You see Time has
  shaken me by the hand, and Death is but a little behind him. My eyes
  and heart are now almost all I have left; and I bless God for
  them.—Your affectionate father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[277]

-----

Footnote 275:

  Probably Dr Morley, Rector of Lincoln College. John Wesley, at this
  time, was embarrassed for want of money. Three weeks before, his
  father had sent him £5, and had promised further kindness. (MS.
  letter; see also Wesley’s _Works_, vol. xii. p. 16.)

Footnote 276:

  John Wesley was now thinking of entering into deacon’s orders. He was
  ordained deacon in the month of September following.

Footnote 277:

  This letter is copied from a manuscript copy of the original, in the
  hand-writing of John Wesley. Part of it was published in the _Arminian
  Magazine_, for 1778, p. 29; and also in Coke and Moore’s _Life of
  Wesley_, p. 47; but the reader will perceive, that, in the letter as
  now given, there are several interesting facts and statements, omitted
  in both the works just mentioned.

-----

A month after the above was written, Susannah Wesley addressed her son
on the same subject. The following is an extract:—

                                               “_February 23, 1725._

  “DEAR JACKY,—I was much pleased with your letter to your father about
  taking orders, and like the proposal well; but it is an unhappiness
  almost peculiar to our family, that your father and I seldom think
  alike. I approve the disposition of your mind, and think the sooner
  you are a deacon the better; because it may be an inducement to
  greater application in the study of practical divinity, which I humbly
  conceive is the best study for candidates for orders. Mr Wesley
  differs from me, and would engage you, I believe, in critical
  learning, which, though accidentally of use, is in nowise preferable
  to the other. I earnestly pray God to avert that greater evil from you
  of engaging in trifling studies, to the neglect of such as are
  absolutely necessary. I dare advise nothing. God Almighty direct and
  bless you! Adieu!”[278]

-----

Footnote 278:

  The letter from which this is taken, I believe, has never been
  published.

-----

Mrs Wesley seems to have influenced her husband, and to have induced him
to change his mind. Hence the following unpublished letter, written
within three weeks after the foregoing:—

                                         “WROOT, _March 13, 1724–5_.

  “DEAR SON,—I have both yours; and have changed my mind since my last.
  I now incline to your going this summer into orders, and would have
  you turn your thoughts and studies that way. But, in the first place,
  if you love yourself, or me, pray heartily. I will struggle hard, but
  I will get money for your orders, and something more. Mr Downes has
  spoken to Dr Morley about you, who says he will inquire of your
  character.

  “‘Trust in the Lord, and do good, and verily thou shalt be fed.’

  “This with blessing, from your loving father,

                                                    “SAMUEL WESLEY.”

A visit to Wroot by Samuel Wesley, jun., led to a short postponement of
John’s ordination. The following letter, hitherto unpublished, refers to
this:—

                                             “WROOT, _May 10, 1725_.

  “DEAR SON,—Your brother Samuel, with his wife and child, are here. I
  did what I could that you might have been in orders this Trinity; but
  I doubt your brother’s journey hither has, for the present,
  disconcerted our plans; though you will have more time to prepare
  yourself for ordination, which I pray God you may, as I am, your
  loving father,

                                                    “SAMUEL WESLEY.”

Part of the following letter was printed in the first volume of the
_Arminian Magazine_, p. 30, but, in the original manuscript, all
allusions to John Wesley’s position and prospects are omitted. The
subjoined is an exact and full copy:—

                                            “WROOT, _July 14, 1725_.

  “DEAR SON,—It is not for want of affection that I am some letters in
  your debt; but because I could not yet answer them, so as to satisfy
  myself or you; though I hope still to do it in a few weeks.

  “As for Thomas â Kempis, all the world are apt to strain for one or
  the other. And it is no wonder if contemplative men, especially when
  wrapt in a cowl, and the darkness of the sceptical divinity, and near
  akin, if I mistake not, to the obscure ages, when they observed the
  bulk of the world so mad for sensual pleasures, should run into the
  contrary extreme, and attempt to persuade us to have no senses at all,
  or that God made them to very little purpose. But for all that,
  mortification is still an indispensable Christian duty. The world is a
  syren, and we must have a care of her. And if the young man will
  ‘rejoice in his youth,’ yet it would not be amiss for him to take care
  that his joys be moderate and innocent; and, in order to this, sadly
  to remember ‘that for all these things God will bring him to
  judgment.’ I have only this to add of my friend and old companion,
  that, making a pretty man grains of allowance, he may be read to great
  advantage, and that, notwithstanding all his superstition and
  enthusiasm, it is almost impossible to peruse him seriously, without
  admiring, and, I think, in some measure imitating his heroic strains
  of humility, and piety, and devotion. But I reckon, you have before
  this received your mother’s, who has leisure to write, and can do so
  without pain, which I cannot.

  “I will write to the Bishop of Lincoln again. You shall not want a
  black coat as soon as I have any _white_.

  “You may transcribe any part of my letter to Mr Hoole, but not the
  whole, for your own private use; neither lend it; but any friend may
  read it in your chamber. Master St Chrysostom, and the Articles, and
  the Form of Ordination. Bear up stoutly against the world, &c. Keep a
  good, an honest, and a pious heart. Pray hard, and watch hard; and I
  am persuaded your quarantine is almost at an end, and all shall be
  well: however, nothing shall be wanting to make it so, that is in the
  power of, your loving father,

                                                    “SAMUEL WESLEY.”

The following unpublished letter to his son John, after referring to a
painful family occurrence, goes on to say:—

                                           “WROOT, _August 2, 1725_.

  “I was at Gainsborough last week, to wait on Sir J. Thorold, and shall
  again, by God’s leave, be there to-morrow, and endeavour to make way
  for you from that quarter.

  “As to the gentlemen candidates you write of, does anybody think the
  devil is dead, or so much as asleep, or that he has no agents left?
  Surely virtue can bear being laughed at. The Captain and Master
  endured something more for us, before He entered into glory; and
  unless we track His steps, in vain do we hope to share that glory with
  Him. Nor shall any who sincerely endeavour to serve Him, either in
  turning others to righteousness, or keeping them steadfast in it, lose
  their reward. Nor can you have better directions, (except Timothy and
  Titus,) than Chrysostom de Sacerdotio, and the Form of Ordination. And
  God forbid that I should ever cease to pray for you!—Your loving
  father,

                                                    “SAMUEL WESLEY.”

The following to his son John was accompanied with a certificate of
birth and baptism:—

  “WROOT, _August 21, 1725_.

  “DEAR SON,—Thanks be to God! we are all well. I send the certificate
  on the other side, and will be soon with Mr Downes at Dr Morley’s. You
  need not show the other side, unless it is asked for. Say you are in
  the 23d current.—Your loving father,

                                                    “SAMUEL WESLEY.”

The next letter also has never yet been published. Both Samuel Wesley
and his son John, at this time, were in great distress for want of
money.

                                           “BAWTRY, _Sept. 1, 1725_.

  “DEAR SON,—I came hither to-day, because I cannot be at rest, till I
  make you easier. I could not possibly manufacture any money for you
  here, sooner than next Saturday. On Monday I design to wait on Dr
  Morley, and will try to prevail with your brother to return you £8,
  with interest. I will assist you in the charges for ordination, though
  I am myself just now struggling for life. This £8 you may depend on
  the next week, or the week after.

  “I like your way of thinking and arguing; and yet must say, I am a
  little afraid on it. He that believes and yet argues against reason,
  is half a Papist, or enthusiast. He that would make Revelation bend to
  his own shallow reason is either half a Deist or a heretic. O my dear!
  steer clear between this Scylla and Charybdis. God will bless you; and
  you shall ever be beloved, as you will ever be a comfort to, your
  affectionate father,

                                                    “SAMUEL WESLEY.”

  “_P.S._—If you have any scruples about any part of Revelation, or the
  Articles of the Church of England, which I think exactly agreeable to
  it, I can answer them.”

                           ANOTHER TO THE SAME.

                                     “GAINSBOROUGH, _Sept. 7, 1725_.

  “DEAR SON JOHN,—With much ado you see I am for once as good as my
  word. Carry Dr Morley’s note to the Bursar. I hope to send you more,
  and believe by the same hand. God fit you for your great work!
  Fast-watch-pray-believe-love-endure-be happy. Towards which you shall
  never want the ardent prayers of, your affectionate father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[279]

-----

Footnote 279:

  MS. letter.

-----

John Wesley was ordained deacon on Sunday, the 19th of September 1725,
by Dr Potter, then Bishop of Oxford.[280] The day after his ordination
he wrote to his father, and the following is his father’s reply:—

                                            “WROOT, _Oct. 19, 1725_.

  “DEAR SON,—I had yours of the 20th ult., with the welcome news that
  you were in deacon’s orders. I pray God you may so improve in them, as
  to be in due time fit for a higher station.

  “If you gave any occasion for what is said of you at L——, you must
  bear it patiently, if not joyfully. But be sure never to return the
  like treatment. I have done what I could, do you the same; and rest
  the whole on Providence.

  “The hard words in yours are of the same nature with an anathema,
  whose point is levelled against obstinate heretics. But is not even
  schism a work of the flesh, and therefore damnable? And yet is there
  not a distinction between what is wilful, and what may be in some
  measure involuntary? God knows, and doubtless will make a difference.
  We do not so well know it, and therefore must leave it to Him, and
  keep to the rules He has given us.

  “As to the main of the cause, the best way to deal with your
  adversaries is, to turn the war and their own vaunted arms against
  them. From balancing the schemes, it would appear that there are many
  irreconcilable absurdities and traditions in theirs, with none such,
  though indeed some difficulties, in ours. To instance but one of a
  side. They can never prove a contradiction in our Three and One,
  unless we affirmed them to be so in the same respect, which every
  child knows we do not. We can prove there is a contradiction in a
  creature’s being a Creator, which they assert of our Lord.

  “If you turn your thoughts and studies this way, you may do God and
  His Church good service. To His blessing and protection I commit you;
  and am, your loving father,

                                                    “SAMUEL WESLEY.”

-----

Footnote 280:

  Moore’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i. p. 134.

-----

All the foregoing letters refer, less or more, to John Wesley being
ordained a deacon, and, on that account, are not without interest. Some
of them, up to the present, have never appeared in print; and the
remainder, with one exception, have never been published in full as they
are published here. The young deacon was still embarrassed for want of
money, and his father was at his wit’s end how to serve him. Hence
another letter, the last we shall give for the year 1725:—

                                            “WROOT, _Nov. 30, 1725_.

  “SON JOHN,—You see, by the enclosed, that I am not unmindful of you.
  All I can do for you, (and God knows more than I can honestly do,) is
  to give you credit with Richard Ellison for £10 next Lady-Day.

  “Nothing else from your loving father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[281]

-----

Footnote 281:

  MS. letter.

-----

Subjoined are four letters written in the year 1726. Those dated March
21st and April 17th, have not before been published. The whole of them
were addressed to John Wesley.

                                                “_January 26, 1726._

  “DEAR SON,—The providence of God has engaged me in a work, wherein you
  may be very assistant to me, promote the glory of God, and, at the
  same time, notably forward your own studies.

  “I have sometime since designed an edition of the holy Bible in
  octavo, in the Hebrew, Chaldee, Septuagint, and Vulgate; and have made
  some progress in it. I have not time at present to give you the whole
  scheme, of which scarce any soul knows except your brother Sam.

  “What I desire of you is, first, that you would immediately fall to
  work, and read diligently the Hebrew text in the Polyglott, and
  collate it exactly with the Vulgate, writing all, even the least,
  variations or differences between them.

  “Second, To these I would have you add the Samaritan text, which is
  the very same with the Hebrew, except in some very few places,
  differing only in the Samaritan character, which I think is the true
  old Hebrew.

  “You may learn the Samaritan alphabet in a day, either from the
  Prolegomena in Walton’s Polyglott, or from his grammar. In a
  twelvemonth’s time, sticking close to it in the forenoons, you will
  get twice through the Pentateuch; for I have done it four times the
  last year, and am going over it the fifth, and also collating the two
  Greek versions, the Alexandrian and the Vatican, with what I can get
  of Symmachus and Theodotian, &c. You shall not lose your reward,
  either in this or the other world. Nor are your brothers like to be
  idle; but I would have nothing said of it to anybody, though your
  brother Sam shall write to you shortly about it.”[282]

-----

Footnote 282:

  Whitehead’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i. p. 22; also Clarke’s _Wesley
  Family_, vol. i. p. 296.

-----

What the full extent of Mr Wesley’s scheme was, we are not able to
learn; but probably it was the publication, on a wide basis, of a
Polyglott Bible.

John Wesley was elected Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford, on the 17th
of March 1726. Four days afterwards, his father wrote the following
short letter:—

                                           “WROOT, _March 21, 1726_.

  “DEAR MR FELLOW ELECT OF LINCOLN,—I have done more than I could for
  you. On your waiting on Dr Morley with this he will pay you £12. You
  are inexpressibly obliged to that generous man. We are all as well as
  can be expected. Your loving father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[283]

-----

Footnote 283:

  MS. letter.

-----

It was no trifle for this venerable man to meet the moderate expenses
incurred by his son John at the Oxford University. Hence the following:—

                                            “WROOT, _April 1, 1726_.

  “DEAR SON JOHN,—I had both yours since the election. In both you
  express yourself as becomes you for what I had willingly, though with
  much greater difficulty than you imagine, done for you; for the last
  £12 pinched me so hard, that I am forced to beg time of your brother
  Sam, till after harvest, to pay him the £10 that you say he lent you.
  Nor shall I have so much as that, (perhaps not £5) to keep my family
  till after harvest; and I do not expect that I shall be able to do
  anything for Charles when he goes to the University. What will be my
  own fate, God knows, before this summer be over. _Sed passi graviora._
  Wherever I am, my Jack is Fellow of Lincoln!

  “Yet all this, and perhaps worse than you know, has not made me forget
  you; for I wrote to Dr King, desiring leave for you to come one, two,
  or three months into the country, where you should be gladly welcome.

  “As for advice, keep your best friend fast; and, next to him, Dr
  Morley; and have a care of your other friends, especially the younger.
  All at present from your loving father,

                                                    “SAMUEL WESLEY.”

Sixteen days after this Mr Wesley wrote to his son again, as follows:—

                                                  “_April 17, 1726._

  “DEAR SON,—I hope Sander will be with you by Wednesday noon, with the
  horses, books, and bags, and this. I got your mother to write the
  enclosed, (for you see I can hardly scrawl,[284]) because it was
  possible it might come to hand on Tuesday; but my head was so full of
  cares that I forgot on Saturday last to put it into the post house. I
  should be very glad to see you, though but for a day; but much more
  for a quarter of a year. I think you will make what haste you can. I
  design to be at the Crown in Bawtry on Saturday se’ennight. God bless
  and send you a prosperous journey to your affectionate father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[285]

-----

Footnote 284:

  His right hand was already palsied.

Footnote 285:

  MS. letter.

-----

John Wesley came to his father’s a few days after the date of the above
letter, and spent the summer at Epworth and at Wroot. Here he usually
read prayers, and preached twice every Sabbath; and, in various ways,
assisted the venerable rector. He still pursued his studies, and had
frequent opportunities of conversing with his parents, and kept a
regular diary of what transpired. He takes notice of the particular
subjects discussed in their various conversations, and among others
mentions the following: how to increase our faith, our hope, and our
love of God; prudence, simplicity, sincerity, pride, and vanity; wit,
humour, fancy, courtesy, and general usefulness. He returned to Oxford
on the 21st of September; and, on the 7th of November following, was
chosen Greek lecturer and moderator of the classes.[286]

-----

Footnote 286:

  Moore’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i. p. 139.

-----

We now proceed to lay before the reader seven letters written during the
year 1727; the first, second, fourth, and seventh of which are now for
the first time published.

                                             “WROOT, _June 6, 1727_.

  “SON JOHN,—I hope I may still be able to serve both my cures this
  summer; or, if not, die pleasantly in my last _dike_. If that should
  happen, I see no great difficulty in bringing your pupil down with
  you, say a quarter of a year, where you may both live at least as
  cheap as at Oxford. I shall be myself at Epworth, as soon as I can get
  a lodging.

  “This is all to you at present from your humble father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[287]

-----

Footnote 287:

  MS. letter.

-----

Charles Wesley was now at Oxford, and the following letter was written
to him and his brother John unitedly:—

                                           “BAWTRY, _June 21, 1727_.

  “DEAR LADS,—This moment I received the satisfaction of yours of the
  14th inst. I had no more reason to doubt your duty to me, than you
  have had of mine to you; although I am sure you cannot think it proper
  there should be two masters in a family. Read! reflect! You know I
  cannot but love you; if you please, and if you think it worth your
  while that an old father should love you.

  “What should I be, if I did not take your offer to come down soon? But
  you could not now get from hence to Wroot; though I can make shift to
  get from Wroot to Epworth by boat; and it cannot be worse this summer.
  However, if you have any prospect of doing good to F——n[288] (let none
  of my lads ever despair,) I beg you, for God’s sake, to take to him
  again; for how do you know, that you may thereby save a soul from
  death, and cover a multitude of sins? I heartily give you this advice,
  and beg of you, as you love God, or me, that you would follow it, as
  far as it is practicable. Once more, remember what a soul is worth, as
  you know what price was paid for it.

  “I hope, in a fortnight, to be able to walk to Epworth. When I am
  tired, I will send you word. If you should come, it would be best to
  buy a horse; for I have now ground enough to spare for a dozen. I am
  weary.—From your loving father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[289]

-----

Footnote 288:

  Probably Lewis Fenton. See Moore’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i. p. 149.

Footnote 289:

  MS. letter.

-----

The above letter refers to the difficulty of travelling in the
neighbourhood of Epworth. The following, written five days later,
alludes to the same matter:—

                                            “WROOT, _June 26, 1727_.

  “DEAR SON JOHN,—I do not think I have yet thanked you enough for your
  kind and dutiful letter of the 14th inst, which I received at Bawtry,
  last Wednesday, and answered there in a hurry; yet, on reflection, I
  see no reason to alter my mind much as to what I then writ; but, if
  you had any prospect of doing good on your pupil, I should have been
  pleased with your attempting it some time longer. If that is past, or
  hopeless, there is an end of the matter.

  “When you come hither, after having taken care of Charterhouse and
  your own rector, your headquarters will, I believe, be for the most
  part at Wroot, as mine, if I can, at Epworth, though sometimes making
  an exchange. The truth is, I am _hipp’d_ by my voyage and journey to
  and from Epworth last Sunday; being lamed with having my breeches too
  full of water, partly with a downfall from a thunder shower, and
  partly from the wash over the boat. Yet I thank God I was able to
  preach here in the afternoon, and was as well this morning as ever,
  except a little pain and lameness, both of which I hope to wash off
  with a hair of the same dog this evening.

  “I wish the rain had not reached us on this side Lincoln; but we have
  it so continual that we have scarce one bank left, and I cannot
  possibly have one quarter of oats in all the levels; but, thanks be to
  God, the fields of barley and rye are good. We can neither go afoot
  nor on horseback to Epworth, but only by boat as far as Scawsit
  Bridge, and then walk over the common, though I hope it will soon be
  better. I would gladly send horses, but don’t think I have now any
  that would perform the journey; for—1. My filly has scarcely recovered
  from the last, and I question if she ever will. However, I have turned
  her up to the waggon, and very seldom ride her. 2. Mettle is almost
  blind. 3. Your favourite two-eyed nag they have taken to swing in the
  back, and he is never like to be good for riding any more. 4. And
  Bounce and your mother’s nag, you know. Therefore, if you can get a
  pretty strong horse, not over fine, nor old, nor fat, I think it would
  improve, especially in summer, and be worth your while. I would send
  as far as Nottingham to meet you, but would have your studies as
  little intermitted as possible, and hope I shall do a month or two
  longer, as I am sure I ought to do all I can both for God’s family and
  my own; and when I find it sinks me, or perhaps a little before, I
  will certainly send you word, with about a fortnight’s notice; and in
  the meantime send you my blessing, as being your loving father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[290]

  “_P.S._—Dear Charles, were I you, it should go hard but I’d get one of
  the Blenheim prizes. Thomas calls. Good night to you.”

-----

Footnote 290:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Nine days after, Mr Wesley wrote again to his two sons at Oxford. The
Rev. Elijah Hoole, D.D., has kindly favoured me with a copy of the
letter, which has never been published until now:—

                                             “WROOT, _July 5, 1727_.

  “DEAR CHILDREN,—The reason why I was willing to delay my son John’s
  coming was his pupil; but that is over. Another reason was that I knew
  he could not get between Wroot and Epworth without hazarding his
  health or life; whereas my hide is tough, and I think no carrion can
  kill me. I walked sixteen miles yesterday, and this morning, I thank
  God, I was not a penny worse. The occasion of this booted walk was to
  hire a room for myself at Epworth, which I think I have now achieved.”

(After this follows his proposal that Charles should come to
Lincolnshire by the carrier. He then proceeds:—)

  “You will find your mother much altered. I believe what will kill a
  cat has almost killed her. I have observed of late little convulsions
  in her very frequently, which I don’t like.

  “God bless and guide, and send you both a speedy and happy meeting
  with, your loving father,

                                                     SAMUEL WESLEY.”

The next two letters were written on the same day, within a fortnight
after the former one. The first refers to Mrs Wesley’s illness:—

                                            “WROOT, _July 18, 1727_.

  “DEAR SON JOHN,—We received last post your compliments of condolence
  and congratulation to your mother on the supposition of her near
  approaching demise; to which your sister Patty will by no means
  subscribe, for she says she is not so good a philosopher as you are,
  and that she cannot spare her mother yet, if it please God, without
  great inconvenience.

  “And indeed, though she has now and then some very sick fits, yet I
  hope the sight of you will revive her. However, when you come you will
  see a new face of things, my family being now pretty well colonised,
  and all perfect harmony; much happier, in no small straits, than
  perhaps we ever were before in our greatest affluence; and you will
  find a servant that will make us rich, if God gives us anything to
  work upon. I know not but that it may be this prospect, together with
  my easiness in my family which keeps my spirits from sinking, though
  they tell me I have lost some of my tallow between Wroot and Epworth;
  but that I don’t value, as long as I have strength left to perform my
  office.

  “If Charles can get to London, I believe Hardsley, at the Red Lion,
  Aldersgate Street, might procure him a horse as reasonably as any to
  ride along with you to Lincoln. He will also direct him where to leave
  it there for the carrier to return. This will be the cheapest and the
  safest way; and I will warrant you will find means to bring Charles up
  again. Your own best way, as in my last, will be to buy a horse for
  yourself for the reasons I then told you. I am weary, but your loving
  father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[291]

-----

Footnote 291:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

                                            “WROOT, _July 18, 1727_.

  “DEAR CHARLES,—I told you the Chaldee would be easy (Scaliger says the
  Ethiopic is but a dialect of it,) so will the Syriac, and even the
  Arabic, as soon as you can crack it, and I believe pleasanter as well
  as richer than all the rest. And I doubt not but he that is master of
  the Hebrew may soon conquer all the others, which will both receive it
  and give light to each other, especially, (as I have heard,) the
  Arabic, whereof I question whether it be ever exhaustible, and which
  is yet spoken and writ from the hills of Grenada to the uttermost
  easterly bounds of the world. I have a sample of it for you here, if
  you are not got so far, in a specimen of the Arabic Testament, and
  have picked out a pretty many words in Job, which the commentators say
  are of one of those three languages, wherein your assistance will do
  me a great pleasure. If you can, get the Oxford edition of Tacitus’s
  Annals, transcribing the passage in the sixth book concerning the
  Phœnix, and the annotations upon it, and be so kind as to bring them
  with you.

  “I have writ, on the other side, to your brother my thoughts of the
  best way of your coming; and the sooner you come the better; but you
  will send word by post the day we must send for you to Lincoln. I
  heartily wish I could as well send you both a viaticum as I do my best
  blessings.—From your affectionate father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[292]

-----

Footnote 292:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Eight days after, Mr Wesley wrote to his son, John, stating his
intention to meet him at Lincoln. The letter is now for the first time
published, the copy being kindly furnished by Dr Hoole:—

                                                   “_July 26, 1727._

  “SON JOHN,—I shall be at Lincoln, (_D.V._,) on the —— inst., and shall
  stay till Friday morning. If you can get thither by Wednesday or
  Thursday night, I shall be glad of your company home. And not long
  after, I hope to send Charles a _totable_ reason for following.
  Whenever you come, you will be fully welcome to your loving father,

                                                     SAMUEL WESLEY.”

John Wesley came to Epworth and Wroot accordingly. Here he continued to
act as his father’s curate till July 1728, when he returned to Oxford,
with a view to obtain priest’s orders. Two months afterwards, on
September 22, he was ordained priest by Dr Potter, who had ordained him
deacon in 1725. He immediately returned to the assistance of his father
in Lincolnshire, where, excepting a short interval, he continued until
November 22, 1729, when, at the request of his faithful friend, Dr
Morley, the rector of his college, he returned to Oxford to fulfil the
office of moderator. Meanwhile, Charles Wesley was pursuing his studies
at Christ Church College, and, though only twenty-two years old, had
begun to take pupils. The following letters were written during this
period. For the first we are indebted to the kindness of Dr Hoole.
Hitherto it has been unpublished:—

                                          “EPWORTH, _Sept. 5, 1728_.

  “DEAR SON,—Your mother had yours yesterday, as I suppose before this
  you have had hers and mine, with the certificate. Yours brought the
  good news of Charles’s recovery, which will supersede his country
  journey, and help him to regain the time he has lost in his studies.

  “M—— miraculously gets money even in Wroot, and has given the first
  fruits of her earning to her mother, lending her money, and presenting
  her with a new cloak of her own buying and making, for which God will
  bless her. When we get to Epworth, she will grow monstrously rich, for
  she will have more work than she can do, and the people are
  monstrously civil.

  “God has given me two fair escapes for life within these few weeks.
  The first when my old nag fell with me, trailed me by my foot in the
  stirrups about six yards, (when I was alone, all but God and my good
  angel,) trod on my other foot, yet never hurt me.

  “The other escape was much greater. On Monday week, at Burringham
  Ferry, we were driven down with a fierce stream and wind, and fell
  foul with our broadside against a keel. The second shock threw two of
  our horses overboard, and filled the boat with water. I was just
  preparing to swim for life, when John Whitelamb’s long legs and arms
  swarmed up into the keel, and lugged me in after him. My mare was
  swimming a quarter of an hour, but at last we all got safe to land.
  Help to praise Him who saves both man and beast.

  “I write with pain, therefore nothing else but love and blessing from,
  your affectionate father,       SAMUEL WESLEY.”

  “Dick’s just Dick still; but I hope Sukey is not Sukey.”

                                          “EPWORTH, _Jan. 29, 1730_.

  “DEAR CHARLES,—I had your last with your brother’s, and you may easily
  guess whether I were not pleased with it, both on your account and my
  own. You have a double advantage by your pupils, which will soon bring
  you more if you will improve it, as I firmly hope you will, in taking
  the utmost care to form their minds to piety as well as learning. As
  for yourself, between logic, grammar, and mathematics, be idle[293] if
  you can; and I give my blessing to the bishop for having tied you a
  little faster, by obliging you to rub up your Arabic. A fixed and
  constant method will make all both easy and delightful to you. But for
  all that you must find time every day for walking, which you know you
  may do with advantage to your pupils; and a little more robust
  exercise, now and then, will do you no harm.

  “You are now launched fairly, Charles; hold up your head, and swim
  like a man; and when you cuff the wave beneath you, say to it, much as
  another hero did—

                   ‘Carolum vehis, et Caroli fortunam.’

  But always keep your eye above the pole-star. And so God send you a
  good voyage through the troublesome sea of life! which is the hearty
  prayer of, your loving father,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[294]

-----

Footnote 293:

  Charles had been idle. He says, “My first year at college I lost in
  diversions; the next I set myself to study.”—MOORE’S _Life of Wesley_,
  vol. i. p. 153.

Footnote 294:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Immediately after John Wesley’s return to Oxford, in Nov. 1729, he and
his brother Charles and two more students began to meet together, three
or four evenings every week, for the purpose of reading the classics.
One of the students was Mr Morgan, who, during the summer following,
called at Oxford Gaol, to see a man condemned for the murder of his
wife. He urged the two Wesleys to join him in his visits to the prison
and to the poor, and, at last, on the 24th of August 1730, they yielded;
but, fearful that they might be doing wrong, before they fully committed
themselves to this work of visiting, they wrote asking the advice of
their venerable father. Part of his answer, dated September 21, 1730,
was as follows:—

  “And now, as to your own designs and employments, what can I say less
  of them than _valde probo_: and that I have the highest reason to
  bless God that He has given me two sons together at Oxford, to whom He
  has given grace and courage to turn the war against the world and the
  devil, which is the best way to conquer them. They have but one more
  enemy to combat with, the flesh; which, if they take care to subdue,
  by fasting and prayer, there will be no more for them to do but to
  proceed steadily in the same course, and expect the crown which fadeth
  not away. You have reason to bless God, as I do, that you have so fast
  a friend as Mr M.,[295] who, I see, in the most difficult service, is
  ready to break the ice for you. You do not know of how much good that
  poor wretch who killed his wife has been the providential occasion. I
  think I must adopt Mr M. to be my son, together with you and your
  brother Charles; and when I have such a ternion to prosecute that war,
  wherein I am now _miles emeritus_, I shall not be afraid when they
  speak with their enemies in the gate.

  “I am afraid lest the main objection you make against going on in the
  business with the prisoners, may secretly proceed from flesh and
  blood. Go on, then, in God’s name, in the path to which your Saviour
  has directed you, and that track wherein your father has gone before
  you! For when I was an undergraduate at Oxford, I visited those in the
  castle there, and reflect on it with great satisfaction to this day.
  Walk as prudently as you can, though not fearfully, and my heart and
  prayers are with you.

  “Your first regular step is, to consult with him (if any such there
  be) who has a jurisdiction over the prisoners; and the next is, to
  obtain the direction and approbation of your bishop. This is Monday
  morning, at which time I shall never forget you. If it be possible, I
  should be glad to see you all three here in the fine end of summer.
  But if I cannot have that satisfaction, I am sure I can reach you
  every day, though you were in the Indies. Accordingly, to Him who is
  everywhere I now heartily commit you, as being your most affectionate
  and joyful father,

                                                    “SAMUEL WESLEY.”

-----

Footnote 295:

  Mr Morgan.

-----

Samuel Wesley thus gave an impulse to the first Methodist movement. In
pursuance of his directions, his son John obtained the consent of the
Bishop of Oxford to visit the prisoners, and to preach to them once a
month. These proceedings were soon known in the university, and John
Wesley and his friends became a common topic of collegiate mirth, and
were jeeringly designated “The Holy Club.” John again consulted his
father, and was answered as follows:—

                                                “_December 1, 1730._

  “This day I received yours; and this evening, in the course of our
  reading, I thought I found an answer that would be more proper than
  any I myself could dictate. ‘Great is my glorying of you: I am filled
  with comfort, I am exceeding joyful.’ (2 Cor. vii. 4.) What would you
  be? Would you be angels? I question whether a mortal can arrive to a
  greater degree of perfection than steadily to do good, and for that
  very reason patiently and meekly to suffer evil. For my part, on the
  present view of your actions and designs, my daily prayers are that
  God would keep you humble; and then, I am sure that if you continue
  ‘to suffer for righteousness’ sake,’ though it be but in a lower
  degree, ‘the Spirit of glory and of God’ shall, in some good measure,
  ‘rest upon you.’ Be never weary of well-doing; never look back; for
  you know the prize and the crown are before you; though I can scarce
  think so meanly of you, as that you would be discouraged with ‘the
  crackling of thorns under a pot.’ Be not high-minded, but fear.
  Preserve an equal temper of mind, under whatever treatment you meet
  with from a not very just or well-natured world. Bear no more sail
  than is necessary, but steer steady. The less you value yourselves for
  these unfashionable duties, the more all good and wise men will value
  you, if they see your actions are of a piece; or, which is infinitely
  more, He by whom actions and intentions are weighed will both accept,
  esteem, and reward you.[296]

  “I hear my son John has the honour of being styled the ‘Father of the
  Holy Club:’ if it be so, I must be the grandfather of it; and I need
  not say that I had rather any of my sons should be so dignified and
  distinguished than to have the title of _His Holiness_.”[297]

-----

Footnote 296:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. i. p. 8.

Footnote 297:

  Moore’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i. p. 171.

-----

Who can tell the influence which such a letter had in urging John Wesley
and his little band of Methodists to proceed in their new career?

Samuel Wesley, though paralysed in his right hand, was busily engaged in
completing his “Dissertation on the Book of Job.” He wished to dedicate
his work to Queen Caroline, and wrote to both his sons, Samuel and John,
relative to the proper mode of proceeding. John, however, was now
stigmatized as the “Father of the Holy Club,” and Samuel had given
offence in high quarters by his poetical satires on the cabinet and
their friends, and hence, for the present, it was found impracticable to
obtain the queen’s permission. The following letter refers to this. It
was addressed to Samuel:—

                                          “EPWORTH, _Dec. 17, 1730_.

  “DEAR SON,—Yours of the 11th inst. has made me pretty quiet in
  reference to my dedication, as indeed my heart was never violently set
  upon it, or I hope on anything else in this world. I find it stuck
  where I always boded it would, as in the words of your brother in
  yours, when you waited on him with my letter and addressed him on the
  occasion. ‘The short answer I received was this, it was utterly
  impossible to obtain leave on my account; you had the misfortune to be
  my father; and I had a long bill against M——n.’

  “I guess at the particulars, that you have let your wit too loose
  against some favourites; which is often more highly resented, and
  harder to be pardoned, than if you had done it against greater
  persons. It seems, then, that original sin goes sometimes upwards as
  well as downwards; and we must suffer for our offspring. Though,
  notwithstanding this disappointment, I shall never think it ‘a
  misfortune to have been your father.’ I am sensible it would avail
  little for me to plead, in proof of my loyalty, the having written and
  printed the first thing that appeared in defence of the government
  after the accession of King William and Queen Mary to the crown,
  (which was an answer to a speech without doors;) and that I wrote a
  great many little pieces more, both in prose and verse, with the same
  view; and that I ever had the most tender affection and the deepest
  veneration for my sovereign and the royal family; on which account (it
  is no secret to you, though it is to most others,) I have undergone
  the most sensible pains and inconveniences of my whole life, and that
  for a great many years together; and yet have still, I thank God,
  retained my integrity firm and immovable, till I have conquered at the
  last.

  “I must confess, I had the pardonable vanity (when I had dedicated two
  books before to two of our English queens, Queen Mary and Queen Anne)
  to desire to inscribe a third, which has cost me ten times as much
  labour as all the rest, to her gracious Majesty Queen Caroline, who, I
  have heard, is an encourager of learning. And this work, I am sure,
  needs a royal encouragement, whether or no it may deserve it. Neither
  would I yet despair of it, had I any friend who would fairly represent
  that and me to her Majesty. Be that as it pleaseth Him in whose hands
  are the hearts of all the princes upon earth; and who turneth them
  whithersoever He pleases.

  “If we have not subscriptions enough for the cuts, as proposed, we
  must be content to lower our sails again, and to have only the maps,
  the picture of Job, which I must have at the beginning, and some few
  others.

  “The family, I thank God, is all well, as is your affectionate father,
        SAMUEL WESLEY”[298]

-----

Footnote 298:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

As the following letter, likewise to his son Samuel, refers to the same
Dissertations, we insert it here, though a few months out of its
chronological order. Samuel Wesley, jun., had recently interred his only
son:—

                                                   “_June 18, 1731._

  “DEAR SON,—Yes, this is a thunderbolt indeed to your whole family; but
  especially to me, who am not now likely to see any of my name, in the
  third generation, (though Job did in the fourth,) to stand before God.
  However, this is a new demonstration to me that there must be a
  hereafter. I trust God will support you both under this heavy and
  unspeakable affliction. But when and how did he die? and where is his
  epitaph? Though, if sending this now will be too much _refricare
  vulnus_, I will stay longer for it.

  “And now for your letter of May 27. The sum is,

  “1. As to the placing the Dissertations. As you say, the prolegomena
  are something aguish; though that and all the rest I leave (as often
  before) to your judgment, for my memory is near gone; neither have I
  the papers in any order by me.

  “2. The ‘Poetica Descriptio Monstri,’ I think, would come in most
  naturally after all the Dissertations of the Behemoth and Leviathan;
  but you, having the whole before you, will be the most proper judge.

  “3. Do with the ‘De Carmine Pastoritio’ as you please.

  “4. ‘Periplus Rubri Maris’ comes with the geography, when Mr Hoole has
  finished it.

  “5. I remember no extracts but that from the ‘Catena,’ which is 616
  folio pages; but I think I have got the main of it into thirty
  quartos, which I finished yesterday, though there is no haste in
  sending it, for I design it for the appendix.

  “As for the ‘Testimonia Arianorum’ περί του Λογου, it happens well
  that I have a pretty good copy, though not so perfect as that which is
  lost, and will get Mr Horberry to transcribe it as soon as he returns
  from Oxford; though I think it will not come in till towards the
  latter end of the work, as must your collation at the very end, only
  before the appendix;[299] and I shall begin to revise it to-morrow.
  Blessing on you and yours, from your loving father,       SAMUEL
  WESLEY.”[300]

-----

Footnote 299:

  The “Testimonia Arianorum,” and the Appendix, mentioned in this
  letter, were not published. It is evident that Samuel Wesley, jun.,
  had the completion of the “Dissertations on the Book of Job.”

Footnote 300:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Mr Wesley was a strict disciplinarian, not only in his family, but in
his parish. According to the canonical law of the Church of England,
churchwardens took an oath to bring to justice all who “offended their
brethren by adultery, whoredom, incest, drunkenness, swearing, ribaldry,
usury, or any other uncleanness or wickedness of life,” (Canon 109.) And
when churchwardens violated their oaths by neglecting their duty, it
then became imperative that the clergyman of the parish should present
to his ordinary, the appointed judge of ecclesiastical causes, all the
crimes and persons which he thought needed reformation. (Canon 113.) If
the accused person was found guilty of adultery, or incontinency, the
punishment usually inflicted was to do a public penance in the parish
church, or in the market-place, when the offender, or offenders, stood
in a white sheet, bare-legged and bare-headed, and made an open
confession of their crime in a prescribed form of words. The judge,
however, had authority, _after_ the penance had been enjoined, to permit
a commutation of it, by the criminal paying a sum of money for pious
uses in satisfaction thereof. These remarks will help the reader to a
better understanding of the following letters:—

                                          “EPWORTH, _Dec. 30, 1730_.

  “MR TERRY,—On account of our old friendship, I beg your advice as to
  the greatest parochial difficulty I have met with since my residence
  here.

  “I have two couples of sinners at present upon my hands—the first very
  lean; the latter very fat; and I hope your courts will manage them
  both very well when they are blended together.

  “The lean ones are Benjamin Becket, a widower, and Elizabeth Locker, a
  widow. Though they had not much less than half-a-score of children
  between them before, yet he has ventured to increase the number by
  getting a chopping bastard on her. She had weekly relief from the
  town; and he was prevented doing the same by being made sexton last
  year. They continue both unmarried. What aggravates his crime is,
  that, some years since, he did public penance here for
  ante-matrimonial fornication with his first wife. He and the widow are
  now desirous to do penance for this crime; and the fellow would
  undergo even a third penance by marrying her. I am desirous that their
  punishment should be as exemplary as their crime; and that both of
  them may perform their penance at three churches of the Isle;—my own
  at Epworth, at Haxey, and at Belton. I will see the court charges
  defrayed, which I hope will be as moderate as possible, because most
  of it is like to come out of my own pocket, and because the second
  couple will make amends.

  “Their names are, Mr Aaron Man, one of the most substantial yeomen in
  my parish, reckoned worth about £100 a-year; a married man, with five
  grown-up children. He has long haunted a widow here of a character
  scarce better than his own. Her name is Sarah Brumby, with whom he has
  been seen both day and night, till at last she proved with child, and
  told several persons, who are ready to witness it, that he was the
  father of it. Notwithstanding this, he is so impudent and cunning that
  nobody doubts but he will do all he can to baffle justice, and even
  prevail upon Brumby to retract her confession, and lay it upon some
  other. He threatens any one who says he is the father, to put him into
  the spiritual court, or bring an action against him.

  “Your advice, what steps to take in order to bring these criminals to
  public justice, would be very obliging and serviceable to me, and to
  the best of my parish. Our opinion is, that, being guarded with his
  _impenetrable brass_, he will obstinately deny the fact; and, when he
  is presented, will refuse public penance. Perhaps he might be willing
  to commute, though we are inclined to believe that he would stand an
  excommunication, which we know he does not value, though a capias
  carried to an outlawry, we believe, would make him bend.

  “I would not willingly be baffled in this matter, because I look upon
  the whole exercise of discipline, in my parish, in a great measure to
  depend upon this event.—I am, my most worthy friend, your entire
  friend and servant,       SAMUEL WESLEY.”

The next letter, written six weeks afterwards, relates the steps which
Mr Wesley took in this curious business. It was addressed “To the
Worshipful Mr Chancellor Newell, at Lincoln:”—

                                          “EPWORTH, _Feb. 15, 1731_.

  “SIR,—I received yours, together with the order of penance for
  Benjamin Becket and Elizabeth (then) Locker; and have got them both to
  perform it at Epworth and Haxey, on the days appointed; but the woman,
  being weakly, was so disordered by standing with her naked feet, that
  the women, and even a midwife, assured me that she would hazard her
  life if she went to perform it the third time at Belton in the same
  manner.

  “I could therefore do no more than send the man thither at the day
  appointed, who performed it the third time, according to order, as is
  certified by myself, Mr Hoole, Mr Morrice, and our churchwardens, on
  the instrument you sent us; which is ready to be returned at the
  visitation, or when you please. If you don’t think it proper to remit
  the woman’s doing penance the third time, which I entreat that you
  would, I shall, upon your order in a letter, oblige her to perform it
  to the full extent. She appeared the modestest w—— that I have met
  with on such an occasion, and is now an honest married wife, for I
  married them last Friday.

  “As soon as this case was over, I fell at my second couple, having
  prepared the way by my addresses to a justice of the peace; and by
  disposing some of the best of my parishioners to join with me, on
  account of the charge that this illegitimate child of Sarah Brumby
  might bring upon the parish.”

Mr Wesley then proceeds to narrate the proceedings which took place
before the magistrate. Sarah Brumby confessed that her child was
illegitimate, but refused to tell who was its father. A witness, “one
Mary Jackson, who had been guilty of fornication herself, and had then a
bastard of about six feet high, had told Wesley that she had heard
Brumby say that Aaron Man was the father, but when brought before the
magistrate to give evidence, she denied all that she had said. Two other
witnesses, however, Elizabeth Piers, and Elizabeth Dawson, the midwife,
declared that they had heard Brumby frequently declare that the father
of the child was Aaron Man.” Mr Wesley then concludes his letter thus:—

  “This is the evidence we have got. If we may ground a presentment on
  these proofs, in the taking which we have exactly followed the
  direction you were so kind to prescribe us, I believe I shall be able
  to induce my churchwardens to present both Aaron Man and Sarah Brumby,
  as soon as you will be so good as to teach us how we may proceed,—I
  am, honoured sir, your very obliged humble servant,       SAMUEL
  WESLEY.”

Mr Wesley pursued this strange business during the whole of the year
1731. It appears that the churchwardens, William Watkins and Richard
Samson, had neglected to present Aaron Man and Sarah Brumby for
prosecution; and that Mr Chancellor Newell had threatened to proceed
against them for such neglect of duty. Meanwhile, another case had
sprung up. Some years before, Eliza Hurst had been delivered of an
illegitimate child, but refused to name the father. The Epworth
churchwarden, for the time being, presented her, but no prosecution
followed. Mr Wesley often wrote to the officials respecting her, but
without effect. At length the woman came to him, and earnestly desired
she might perform penance for her offence, whenever the court should
order it. Wesley informed the Chancellor of this, and here the matter
stuck. Since then, Hurst had cohabited with Thomas Thew, and was likely
to have another child. She had wished to marry Thew, but Mr Wesley
refused to perform the ceremony, until she had done penance for her
former fault. It so happened, however, that there was “a strolling
villain in the parish, called John England, and he coupled them together
in a hemp-kiln, on Saturday, January 22, 1732, they having confessed to
him their fornication, and he having absolved them for it.”

In consequence of all this, Wesley found himself in an unpleasant
position, and wrote to Chancellor Newell a complaining letter, dated
“February 2, 1732,” and which he concluded by subscribing himself, “Your
much aggrieved friend and servant, SAMUEL WESLEY.”

On the day following, he wrote to the Bishop of Lincoln:—

                                           “EPWORTH, _Feb. 3, 1732_.

  “MY LORD,—I received the high honour and favour of your lordship’s,
  dated Bugden, Christmas-eve. I ever thought it my duty, since I have
  been the minister of any parish, to present those persons who were
  obnoxious in it, if the churchwardens neglected it, unless where the
  criminal was so sturdy, and so wealthy, as that I was morally certain
  I could not do it, without my own great inconvenience or ruin, in
  which cases God does not require it of me.”

He then refers to the case of Aaron and Brumby, and his unfaithful
churchwardens, and asks—

  “What must I do with the two churchwardens, if they offer themselves
  to receive the sacrament? Ought I not to repel them from it, being
  satisfied in my own mind that they are notoriously perjured, and have
  thereby given great scandal to the congregation? One of them, Richard
  Samson, offered himself at the communion at Christmas, but I sent my
  clerk to desire him privately to withdraw, because I had written to
  your lordship about his case, and had not received your directions.

  “Begging your lordship’s blessing, and a line of answer, I remain,
  your lordship’s ever devoted and most humble servant,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[301]

-----

Footnote 301:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

These are curious letters, and are inserted here, not as a vindication
of public penances, but simply to show Samuel Wesley’s stern fidelity.
They furnish a sketch of ecclesiastical discipline in the Church of
England, at the time that Samuel Wesley’s sons, John and Charles, were
beginning their Methodist career at Oxford University. John Wesley tried
to enforce the same sort of church discipline in Georgia; and all
clergymen are bound, by their engagements, to do as Wesley did, that is,
act according to the canons of their Church. Canon-law might need
revision; no doubt it did; but, because Samuel Wesley had bound himself
to observe these ecclesiastical decrees, he was far too conscientious a
man to treat them as though they did not exist. His stern, perhaps
unwise, fidelity, often brought him into trouble; but, in the midst of
all, his “rejoicing was this, the testimony of his conscience, that in
simplicity and godly sincerity, he had his conversation in the world.”

During the year 1731, Samuel Wesley met with a most serious accident.
Mrs Wesley gives a graphic account of it in the following letter to her
son John:—[302]

-----

Footnote 302:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_, vol. i. p. 309.

-----

                                                   “_July 12, 1731._

  “DEAR JACKY,—The particulars of your father’s fall are as follows:—On
  Friday, June 4th, I, your sister Martha, and our maid, were going in
  our waggon to see the ground we hire of Mrs Knight, at Low Millwood.
  He sat in a chair at one end of the waggon, I in another at the other
  end, Matty between us, and the maid behind me. Just before we reached
  the close, going down a small hill, the horses took into a gallop; and
  out flew your father and his chair. The maid seeing the horses run,
  hung all her weight on my chair, and kept me from keeping him company.
  She cried out to William to stop the horses, and that her master was
  killed. The fellow leaped out of the seat, and stayed the horses, then
  ran to Mr Wesley, but, ere he got to him, two neighbours, who were
  providentially met together, raised his head, upon which he had
  pitched, and held him backward, by which means he began to respire;
  for it is certain, by the blackness in his face, that he had never
  drawn breath from the time of his fall till they helped him up. By
  this time, I was got to him, asked him how he did, and persuaded him
  to drink a little ale, for we had brought a bottle with us. He looked
  prodigiously wild, but began to speak, and told me he ailed nothing. I
  informed him of his fall. He said he ‘knew nothing of any fall. He was
  as well as ever he was in his life.’ We bound up his head, which was
  very much bruised, and helped him into the waggon again, and set him
  at the bottom of it, while I supported his head between my hands, and
  the man led the horses softly home. I sent presently for Mr Harper,
  who took a good quantity of blood from him; and then he began to feel
  pain in several parts, particularly in his side and shoulder. He had a
  very ill night, but, on Saturday morning, Mr Harper came again to him,
  dressed his head, and gave him something which much abated the pain in
  his side. We repeated the dose at bed-time, and, on Sunday, he
  preached twice, and gave the sacrament, which was too much for him to
  do; but nobody could dissuade him from it. On Monday he was ill, and
  slept almost all day. On Tuesday the gout came; but, with two or three
  nights taking Bateman, it went off again, and he has since been better
  than could be expected. We thought at first the waggon had gone over
  him; but it only went over his gown sleeve, and the nails took a
  little skin off his knuckles, but did him no further hurt.”

Mr Wesley was now in his sixty-ninth year, and the effects of such an
accident, of course, were serious and lasting. He had held the Epworth
living for about five-and-thirty years; but being now, to a great
extent, disabled, he proposed to resign it, if his son Samuel could use
sufficient influence to be appointed his successor. The Wroot Rectory he
had held not longer than about seven years, and, as John Whitelamb had
recently become his curate, and had married his daughter Mary, he
applied to the Lord Chancellor to have that living transferred to him.
The following letters refer to these intended resignations, and to other
matters:—

                                                   “_Feb. 28, 1733._

  “DEAR SON SAMUEL,—For several reasons, I have earnestly desired,
  especially in and since my last sickness, that you might succeed me in
  Epworth, in order to which I am willing and determined to resign the
  living, provided you could make an interest to have it in my room.

  “My first and best reason for it is, because I am persuaded you would
  serve God and his people here better than I have done. Though, thanks
  be to God, after near forty years labour among them, they grow better,
  I having had above one hundred at my last sacrament, whereas I have
  had less than twenty formerly.

  “My second reason relates to yourself. You have been a father to your
  brothers and sisters, especially to the former, who have cost you
  great sums in their education, both before and since they went to the
  University. Neither have you stopped here, but have showed your pity
  to your mother and me in a very liberal manner, wherein your wife
  joined with you, when you did not overmuch abound yourselves, and have
  even done noble charities to my children’s children. Now, what should
  I be if I did not endeavour to make you easy to the utmost of my
  power, especially when I know that neither of you have your health in
  London?

  “My third reason is from honest interest; I mean, that of our family.
  You know our circumstances. As for your aged and infirm mother, as
  soon as I drop, she must turn out, unless you succeed me; which, if
  you do, and she survives me, I know you will immediately take her then
  to your own house, or rather continue her there, where your wife and
  you will nourish her, till we meet again in heaven, and you will be a
  guide and stay to the rest of the family.

  “There are a few things more which may seem to be tolerable reasons to
  me for desiring you to be my successor. I have been at very great and
  uncommon expense on this living. I have rebuilt from the ground the
  parsonage barn and dovecote; leaded, and planked, and roofed, a great
  part of my chancel; rebuilt the parsonage house twice when it had been
  burnt, the first time one wing, the second time down to the ground,
  wherein I lost all my books and MSS., a considerable sum of money, all
  our linen, wearing apparel, and household stuff, except a little old
  iron, my wife and I being scorched with the flames, and all of us very
  narrowly escaping with life. This, by God’s help, I built again,
  digging up the old foundations, and laying new ones. It cost me above
  £400, little or nothing of the old materials being left; besides the
  cost of new furniture from top to bottom, for we had now very little
  more than what Adam and Eve had when they first set up housekeeping. I
  then planted the two fronts of my house with wall fruit the second
  time, as I had done the front of the previous house, for the former
  all perished by the fire. I have set mulberries in my garden, which
  bear plentifully, as also cherries, pears, &c., and, in the adjoining
  croft, walnuts, and am planting more every day. And this I solemnly
  declare, not with any manner of view that any of mine should enjoy any
  fruit of my labour, when I have so long outlived all my friends; but
  my prospect was for some unknown person, that I might do what became
  me, and leave the living better than I found it.

  “And yet, I might own, I could not help wishing, that all my care and
  charge might not be utterly lost to my family, but that some of them
  might be the better for it, though I despaired of it, till, some time
  since, the best of my parishioners pressed me earnestly to try if I
  could do anything in it.

  “All I can do is to resign it to you, which I am ready frankly and
  gladly to do, scorning to make any conditions, for I know you better.

  “I commend this affair, and you and yours, to God, as becomes your
  affectionate father,       SAMUEL WESLEY.”[303]

-----

Footnote 303:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_, vol. ii. p. 256.

-----

Samuel Wesley, jun., declined his father’s offer; and, as we shall soon
see, the same proposal was afterwards made to John. Meanwhile, the
venerable rector still kept plodding at his work on the Book of Job. To
the Rev. Mr Piggot, Vicar of Doncaster, he wrote respecting this, and
respecting his late serious accident, as follows:—

                                          “EPWORTH, _Feb. 22, 1733_.

  “DEAR SIR,—Many thanks for your civil letter. I cannot wonder that any
  should think long of Job’s coming out, though it is common in books of
  this nature, especially when the author is absent from the press, and
  there are so many cuts and maps in it, as must be in mine. However, I
  owe it to my subscribers, and indeed to myself, to give some farther
  account of this matter.

  “Now, if Job’s friends have need of patience, at seeing him lie so
  long on the dunghill, or, which is much the same, the printing-house,
  how much more has Job himself need of it, who is sensible his
  reputation suffers more and more by the delay of it; though, if he
  himself had died, as he was lately in a very fair way to it, having
  been as good as given over by three physicians, there would have been
  no manner of doubt to any one who knows the character of my son at
  Westminster, that every subscriber would have had his book.

  “But I cannot be satisfied with this though I have lost the use of one
  hand in the service; yet, I thank God, _non deficit altera_, and I
  begin to put it to school this day to learn to write, in order to help
  its lame brother. And when it can write legibly, I design, if it
  please God, to go to London myself this summer, to push on the
  editing, by helping to correct the press both in text and maps, and to
  frame the indexes, more than which I cannot do.

  “Very many have forgot their large promises to assist me in it, so
  that I hardly expect to receive £100 clear for all my ten years’ pains
  and labours; but if you will be so kind as to communicate this to any
  of my subscribers, who may fall in your way, it may perhaps give some
  satisfaction to them, while it will be but a piece of justice to your
  most obliged friend and brother,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[304]

-----

Footnote 304:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Mr Wesley was naturally a humane man, and was always on the alert where
benevolence was needed. The following letter is illustrative of this
trait in his character:—

  “EPWORTH, _March 27, 1733_.

  “MR PORTER,—Dorothy Whitehead, widow, lately died here, leaving four
  small children, and all in her house not sufficient to bury her, as
  you will see by the oath of her executor added to the will; for a will
  she would have to dispose of a few roods of land, lest her children
  should fall out about it. The bearer, Simon Thew, who is her brother,
  consented to be her executor, that he might take care of her children.
  I gave him the oath, as you will see, as strictly as I could, and am
  satisfied it is all exactly true. They were so poor that I forgave
  them what was due for it, and so did even my clerk for the burial. If
  there be any little matter due for the probate of the will, I entreat
  and believe you will be as low as possible; wherein you know your
  charity will be acceptable to God, and will much oblige, your ready
  friend,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[305]

-----

Footnote 305:

  _Ibid._

-----

As intimated in a previous letter, Mr Wesley went to London towards the
end of the year 1733. Whilst there, he addressed the following letter
“to the Lord Chancellor, for John Whitelamb, now curate of Epworth”:—

  “WESTMINSTER, _Jan. 14, 1734_.

  “MY LORD,—The small rectory of Wroot, in the diocese and county of
  Lincoln, adjoining to the Isle of Axholme, is in the gift of the Lord
  Chancellor, and more than seven years since was conferred on Samuel
  Wesley, rector of Epworth. It lies in our low levels, and is often
  overflowed. During the four or five years that I have had it, the
  people have lost the fruits of the earth to that degree that it has
  hardly brought me in £50 per annum, _omnibus annis_; and some years
  not enough to pay my curate there his salary of £30 a-year. This
  living, by your lordship’s permission and favour, I would gladly
  resign to one Mr John Whitelamb, born in the neighbourhood of Wroot,
  where his father and grandfather lived, when I took him from among the
  scholars of a charity school, (founded by one Mr Travers, an
  attorney,) brought him to my house, and educated him there, where he
  was my amanuensis for four years, in transcribing my ‘Dissertations on
  the Book of Job,’ now well advanced in the press; and was employed in
  drawing my maps and figures for it, as well as we could by the light
  of nature. After this, I sent him to Oxford to my son, John Wesley,
  Fellow of Lincoln College, under whom he made such proficiency, that
  he was, the last summer, admitted by the Bishop of Oxford into
  deacon’s orders, and placed my curate in Epworth, while I came up to
  town to expedite the printing of my book.

  “Since I was here, I gave consent to his marrying one of my seven
  daughters, and they are married accordingly; and though I can spare
  little more with her, yet I would gladly give them a little glebe land
  at Wroot, where I am sure they will not want springs of water. But
  _they_ love the place, though I can get nobody else to reside on it.

  “If I do not flatter myself, he is indeed a valuable person, of
  uncommon brightness, learning, piety, and indefatigable industry,
  always loyal to the king, zealous for the Church, and friendly to our
  Dissenting brethren; and for the truth of this character I will be
  answerable to God and man.

  “If, therefore, your lordship will grant me the favour to let me
  resign the living unto him, and please to confer it on him, I shall
  always remain, your lordship’s most bounden, most grateful, and most
  obedient servant,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[306]

-----

Footnote 306:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

In the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for February 1734, p. 108, the following
announcement is made, in the list of ecclesiastical preferments:—“Mr
Whitelamb to the rectory of Wroot, Lincolnshire.”

Mr Wesley’s two sons, John and Charles, were still at Oxford, and, with
the other members of “the Holy Club,” were receiving the sacrament once
a week, were practising the fasts of the English Church, visiting
prisoners in the gaol, and the destitute in the city, and were abridging
themselves of all the superfluities, and of many of the conveniences of
life, for the purpose of relieving the distress with which they met. In
December 1731, Samuel Wesley visited his two sons at Oxford, to see for
himself the good they were doing, and to obtain direct information
respecting their temper and spirit. In a letter to his wife, he says he
“was well paid both for his expense and labour by their _shining
piety_.” During the course of the ensuing summer, in 1732, John Wesley
made two visits to Epworth; and two others in January and in June 1733.
His father’s health had been seriously affected ever since his sad
accident in June 1731; and as Samuel Wesley, jun., had declined to
become his father’s successor at Epworth, the same proposal was now made
to John,[307] and a long correspondence followed, which lasted till the
end of 1734.[308] In a long letter to his father, written at this
period, John Wesley assigns his reasons for declining the proposal. At
Oxford he always had at hand half a dozen friends like-minded with
himself; he was free from idle and trifling visitors, except once a
month when he invited some of the students to breakfast with him; he was
free from cares, and had the opportunity of attending public prayer
twice a day; he could be holier and usefuller at Oxford than anywhere
else; and the care of two thousand souls at Epworth was a greater weight
than he had ability to bear.

-----

Footnote 307:

  _See_ Moore’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i. pp. 174–210.

Footnote 308:

  _See_ _Original Letters_, published by Priestley, pp. 20–48.

-----

His father replied to many of these objections in the following letter:—

                                                   “_Nov. 20, 1734._

  “DEAR SON,—Your only argument is this: ‘The question is not whether I
  could do more good to others there or here, but whether I could do
  more good to myself; seeing wherever I can be most holy myself, there
  I can most promote holiness in others. But I can improve myself more
  at Oxford than at any other place.’

  “To this I answer—

  “1. It is not dear self but the glory of God, and the different
  degrees of promoting it, which should be our main consideration in the
  choice of any course of life.

  “2. Supposing you could be more holy yourself at Oxford, how does it
  follow that you could more promote holiness in others there than
  elsewhere? Have you found many instances of it, after so many years
  hard pains and labour? Further, I dare say, you are more modest and
  just than to say, there are no holier men than you at Oxford; and yet
  it is possible they may not have promoted holiness more than you have
  done; as I doubt not but you might have done it much more, had you
  taken the right method. For there is a particular turn of mind for
  these matters—great prudence as well as great fervour.

  “3. I cannot allow austerity or fasting, considered by themselves, to
  be proper acts of holiness, nor am I for a solitary life. God made us
  for a social life; we are not to bury our talents; we are to let our
  light shine before men, and that not barely through the chinks of a
  bushel, for fear the wind should blow it out. The design of lighting
  it was, that it might give light to all that went into the house of
  God. And to this academical studies are only preparatory.

  4. You are sensible what figures those make who stay in the university
  till they are superannuated. I cannot think drowsiness promotes
  holiness. How commonly do they drone away life, either in a college or
  in a country parsonage, where they can only give God the snuffs of
  them, having nothing of life or vigour left to make them useful in the
  world.

  “5. We are not to fix our eye on one single point of duty, but to take
  in the complicated view of all the circumstances in every state of
  life that offers. Thus in the case before us, put all circumstances
  together. If you are not indifferent whether the labours of an aged
  father, for above forty years in God’s vineyard, be lost, and the
  fences of it trodden down and destroyed; if you consider that Mr M——
  must in all probability succeed me if you do not, and that the
  prospect of that mighty Nimrod’s coming hither shocks my soul, and is
  in a fair way of bringing down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave;
  if you have any care for our family, which must be dismally shattered
  as soon as I am dropt; if you reflect on the dear love and longing
  which this poor people have for you, you may perhaps alter your mind,
  and bend your will to His, who has promised, if in all our ways we
  acknowledge Him, He will direct our paths.”[309]

Footnote 309:

  _Original Letters_, published by Priestley, p. 48.

-----

A large portion of the correspondence on this momentous business was
carried on during Samuel Wesley’s sojourn in London, at the commencement
of the year 1734. On the 30th of March, John Brown set out from Epworth
to London, to accompany the venerable rector to his home.[310] On his
arrival, he wrote as follows to Dr Reynolds, Bishop of Lincoln:—

                                            “EPWORTH, _May 2, 1734_.

  “MY LORD,—I thank God I got well home, and found all well here. My
  son-in-law, Mr Whitelamb, is gone with his wife to reside at Wroot,
  and takes true pains among the people. He designs to be inducted
  immediately after visitation.

  “At my return to Epworth, looking a little among my people, I found
  there were two strangers come hither, both of which I have discovered
  to be Papists, though they come to church, and I have hopes of making
  one or both of them good members of the Church of England.”[311]

-----

Footnote 310:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1845, p. 38.

Footnote 311:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

Mr Wesley was always brimful of benevolence, and, as soon as he was at
home again, he showed it. Hence the following characteristic letter:—

                                           “EPWORTH, _May 14, 1734_.

  “MR STEPHENSON,—As soon as I heard from John Brown that your kinswoman
  Stephenson had writ to you for her son Timothy, and that you had
  desired her to send for him up, I spoke to several of my best
  parishioners, Mr John Maw, Mr Barnard, and others, that we might be as
  kind to him as we have been to others, who have been put apprentices
  at the public charge, which could be done but meanly at £5, though his
  mother should be able to provide a few shoes and stockings besides for
  him. I went twice, on your account and his, to a public meeting at the
  church, before I had seen the mother or the boy, but the highest sum
  we could bring our people to, in order to make a man of him, was no
  more than £3, which I knew was far short of the requisite amount. On
  Sunday last I went and talked to Mr John Maw and Mr Barnard, and we
  resolved to make up the rest by a private contribution among
  ourselves. The next day, I sent for the lad and his mother to my
  house, and accordingly they came. I found he was a lad of spirit, and
  that he would please you. I encouraged them both, and told his mother
  that she might depend on £5, besides what she herself could do to set
  him out. This was all that I could do for him, and if herein I have
  been over-officious I hope you will, at least, excuse it from your
  obliged friend,       SAMUEL WESLEY.”[312]

-----

Footnote 312:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

At this period, General Oglethorpe had become a man of mark in England.
After finishing his education at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, he was
appointed secretary and aide-de-camp to Prince Eugene, under whom he
acted at the famous siege of Belgrade. While on the Continent, a prince
of Wirtemberg, with whom he was at table, took up a glass of wine, and
threw a portion of its contents into his face. “That’s a good joke, my
prince,” said young Oglethorpe, smiling, “but we do it much better in
England;” and so saying he dashed a glass full of wine at his Serene
Highness in return. Returning to England about 1722, Oglethorpe became
member of the House of Commons for Haslemere, which he represented in
five successive parliaments, from 1722 to 1754. In 1729, having found a
friend suffering most barbarous treatment in the Fleet Prison, and
taking the precedence of John Howard, he called the attention of the
House of Commons to the fact, and was appointed chairman of a committee
to examine into the state of prisons, where cruelties of the most
revolting description had long been practised. About the same period,
some charitable person bequeathed to Oglethorpe and others a large some
of money in trust, to procure the discharge of poor debtors; and
Oglethorpe, soon afterwards, obtained a grant of £10,000 from
government, and also a very liberal public subscription, to enable the
liberated insolvents to emigrate to Georgia. He proceeded to that
country at the head of such a body of settlers about the year 1733, and
returned to England in 1734, bringing with him some Indian chiefs, who
were presented to the king.

Immediately after his arrival,[313] Mr Wesley addressed to him the
following letter respecting his “Dissertations on the Book of Job;” and
it is possible that this letter was the first of a series of causes,
which, in 1735, led John and Charles Wesley to accompany the general to
his newly-formed colony:—

                                           “EPWORTH, _July 6, 1734_.

  “HONOURED SIR,—May I be admitted, while such crowds of our nobility
  and gentry are pouring in their congratulations, to press, with my
  poor mite of thanks, into the presence of one who so well deserves the
  title of Universal Benefactor to mankind. It is not only your valuable
  favours on many occasions to my son, late of Westminster, and to
  myself, when I was not a little pressed in the world, nor your more
  extensive and generous charity to the poor prisoners; it is not only
  this that so much demands my warmest acknowledgments, as your
  disinterested and immovable attachment to your country, and your
  raising a new country, or rather a little world of your own, in the
  midst of almost wild woods and uncultivated deserts, where men may
  live free and happy, if they are not hindered by their own stupidity
  and folly, in spite of the unkindness of their brother mortals.

  “Neither ought I to forget your singular goodness to my little scholar
  and parishioner, John Lyndal. Since he went over, I have received some
  money for him; and it seems necessary that he should make a slip
  hither into Lincolnshire, if you could spare him for a fortnight or a
  month, to settle his affairs with his father’s creditors, which I hope
  he may now nearly do, and then he will have a clear estate left of
  about £6 a-year, to dispose of as he pleases. I hope he has behaved
  with such faithfulness and industry, since he has had the honour and
  happiness of waiting upon you, as not to have forfeited the favour of
  so good a master.[314]

  “I owe you, sir, beside this, some account of my little affairs since
  the beginning of your expedition. Notwithstanding my own and my son’s
  violent illness, which held me half a year, and him above a
  twelvemonth, I have made a shift to get more than three parts in four
  of Job[315] printed off, and both the printing, paper, and maps
  hitherto are paid for. My son, John, at Oxford (now his elder brother
  is gone to Tiverton) takes care of the remainder of the impression in
  London; and I have an ingenious artist here with me, in my house at
  Epworth, who is graving and working off the remaining maps and figures
  for me, so that I hope, if the printer does not hinder me, I shall
  have the whole ready by next spring, and by God’s leave be in London
  myself to deliver the books perfect. I print five hundred copies, as
  in my proposals, whereof I have above three hundred already subscribed
  for; and among my subscribers, fifteen or sixteen English Bishops,
  with some of Ireland.

  “I have not yet done with my own impertinent nostrums. I thank God I
  find I creep up hill more than I did formerly, being eased of the
  weight of four daughters out of seven, as I hope I shall of the fifth
  in a little longer.

  “When Mr Lyndal comes down, I shall trouble you by him with a copy of
  all the maps and figures which I have yet printed, they costing me no
  more than the paper since the graving is over.[316]

  “If you will please herewith to accept the tender of my most sincere
  respect and gratitude, you will thereby confer one further obligation
  on, honoured sir, your most obedient and most humble servant,
        SAMUEL WESLEY.”[317]

-----

Footnote 313:

  Oglethorpe arrived on the 16th of June.

Footnote 314:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

Footnote 315:

  General Oglethorpe subscribed for nine copies of the “Dissertations on
  the Book of Job,” a greater number than was subscribed for by any
  other person.

Footnote 316:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

Footnote 317:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1824, p. 810.

The following letter was written to a friend, and shows his anxiety for
the spiritual welfare of all with whom he was acquainted:—

                       “EPWORTH, NEAR GAINSBOROUGH, _July 11, 1734_.

  “DEAR FRIEND,—Though I have not been worthy to hear from you, or to
  have seen any letter of yours since I saw you last, yet I cannot but
  retain the same warmth of Christian affection for you which I
  conceived at our first sight and acquaintance, as I believe you did
  the like for me and mine. Your friend of Queen’s, whom we call
  Nathaniel, and who brought us the last good news of your health, is
  gone to his relations in Yorkshire, but promises to return and meet
  you here, when you and your friends come down to see us at our fair,
  in August next. If Charles is short of money, pray tell him he is
  welcome to twenty shillings here to make him easier in his journey.
  But I think I can tell you of what will please you more; for last
  Sunday, at the sacrament, it was darted into my mind that it was a
  pity you and your company, while you are here, should be deprived of
  the benefit of weekly sacraments which you enjoy where you are at
  present; and I therefore resolved, if you desire it, while you are
  here, to have the communion every Sunday; and, lest some of the parish
  should grumble at it, the offerings of us who communicate will defray
  the small expense of it. If there be anything else which you can
  desire, and which is in my power to grant or procure, you are hereby
  already assured of it. If I could write anything kinder, my dear
  friend, I would; and I shall see by your acceptance of it, and
  compliance with it, whether you believe me, your sincere friend, and
  half-namesake,       SAMUEL WESLEY.”[318]

-----

Footnote 318:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

The following letter to General Oglethorpe evinces the intense interest
he felt in the colony of Georgia, for which his two sons, John and
Charles, embarked eleven months afterwards:—

                        “EPWORTH, NEAR GAINSBOROUGH, _Nov. 7, 1734_.

  “HONOURED SIR,—I am at length, I thank God, slowly recovering from a
  long illness, during which there have been few days or nights but my
  heart has been working hard for Georgia, and for my townsman, John
  Lyndal. It is in answer to the favour of yours, and of his last, that
  I write these to both. I am extremely concerned lest an inundation of
  ruin should break in upon your colony, and destroy that, as it has
  almost done some others. But I have some better hopes, because I hear
  you do not design to plant it with canes, but with some more innocent,
  and I hope, as profitable produce, any of which, whether mulberries or
  saffron, I should be glad to hear were begun in Georgia. I confess I
  cannot expect God’s blessing, even on the greatest industry, without
  true piety and the fear of God. I had always so dear a love for your
  colony that if it had been but ten years ago, I would gladly have
  devoted the remainder of my life and labours to that place, and think
  I might before this time have conquered the language without which
  little can be done among the natives, if the Bishop of London would
  have done me the honour to have sent me thither, as perhaps he then
  might, but that is now over. However, I can still reach them with my
  prayers, which I am sure will never be wanting.

  “My letter to Mr Lyndal relates to his own particular affairs here in
  the country; for though his effects are not large, they ought by no
  means to be neglected, and I have given him the best advice I am able;
  but if your wisdom should think otherwise, I desire the letter may be
  sunk, or else go forward to him by the next opportunity.

  “With all the thanks I am capable of, I remember your kindness to my
  son, formerly of Westminster, to myself, and to my parishioner Lyndal;
  and am, with the truest respect and gratitude, your honour’s most
  obliged and most humble servant,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[319]

-----

Footnote 319:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

The following is the letter to Mr Lyndal:—

                        “EPWORTH, NEAR GAINSBOROUGH, _Nov. 7, 1734_.

  LYNDAL,—I have not been a little concerned for the unsettledness of
  your affairs at Wroot. I have somewhat above £10 of yours in my hands,
  and think the best and the honestest way you could do, would be to pay
  that money, as far as it will go, towards the interest of what your
  father had taken up upon his estate while he was living. Mr Epworth
  has brought me a letter from his mother, wherein she says there was a
  bond of £10, and a note of £20, as I remember, due to Mr Epworth’s
  father. She desired you would pay off the £10 with interest, and they
  would stay for the £20. I told him that could not be done, because
  there was so little money amongst us all, and therefore I thought the
  fairest and wisest way was to divide the money I had in my hand, to
  pay the interest proportionally as far as it would go.

  “As for your estate, which is in the tenure of Robert Brumby, I
  suppose about £5 or £6 a year, I think it would be best for you to fix
  two or three trustees, and make him yearly accountable to them. If you
  like it, I will be one of them myself as long as I live; my son,
  Whitelamb, would be another; and we think we could persuade Mr Romley,
  the schoolmaster, to be the third, who so well understands the whole
  matter.

  “I find your father owed your uncle, John Barrow, £4, 10s., and Goody
  Stephenson £5. John Barrow is willing to take it when you can pay him,
  without interest, and so should Stephenson, too, but only she is poor,
  and therefore I will give her five shillings on your account, if you
  think fit. Let me hear from you as soon as you can after the receipt
  of this.

  “And now I have some little inquiries to make of your new country.
  Whether any of our ministers understand their language, and can preach
  to them without an interpreter? Whether they speak the same language
  with those Indians who are near them, of Saltsburg and Carolina; or of
  those of New England, who, I know, have the Bible translated into
  their language? Whether your Indians have the Lord’s Prayer in their
  own language? which, if they have, I desire you would send me a copy
  in your next. In all which, especially in loving God and your
  neighbour, you would exceedingly oblige, your sincere friend,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[320]

-----

Footnote 320:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

These two letters to Oglethorpe and Lyndal were written six days after
the burial of Mrs Whitelamb, Mr Wesley’s daughter.[321] Poor Whitelamb
was exceedingly distressed by his sad bereavement, and, in the depth of
his grief, wished to go to Georgia. Hence the following letter to
Oglethorpe, which was written exactly a month after the former one:—

                                           “EPWORTH, _Dec. 7, 1734_.

  “DEAR SIR,—I cannot express how much I am obliged by your last kind
  and instructive letter concerning the affairs of Georgia. I could not
  read it over without sighing, when I again reflected on my own age and
  infirmities, which made such an expedition utterly impracticable for
  me. Yet my mind worked hard about it; and it is not impossible but
  Providence may have directed me to such an expedient as may prove more
  serviceable to your colony than I should ever have been.

  “The thing is thus:—There is a young man, who has been with me a
  pretty many years, and assisted me in my work on Job; after which I
  sent him to Oxford, to my son, John Wesley, Fellow of Lincoln College,
  who took care of his education, where he behaved himself very well,
  and improved in piety and learning. Having got him into deacon’s
  orders, I sent for him down, and he was my curate in my absence in
  London; when I resigned my small living of Wroot to him, and he was
  instituted and inducted there. I likewise consented to his marrying
  one of my daughters, there having been a long and intimate friendship
  between them. But neither he nor I were so happy as to have them live
  long together; for she died in child-bed of her first child. He was so
  inconsolable at her loss, that I was afraid he would soon have
  followed her; to prevent which, I desired his company here at my own
  house, that he might have some amusement and business, by assisting me
  in my cure during my illness.

  “It was then, sir, I just received the favour of yours, and let him
  see it for his diversion; more especially, because John Lyndal and he
  had been fellow-parishioners and school-fellows at Wroot, and had no
  little kindness one for the other. I made no great reflection on the
  thing at first; but, soon after, I found he had thought often upon it,
  was very desirous to go to Georgia himself, and wrote the enclosed
  letter to me on the subject. As I knew not of any person more proper
  for such an undertaking, I thought the least I could do was to send
  the letter to your honour, who would be so very proper a judge of the
  affair; and, if you approve, I shall not be wanting in my addresses to
  my Lord Bishop of London, or any other, since I expect to be in London
  myself at spring, to forward the matter, as far as it will go.

  “As for his character, I shall take it upon myself to say, that he is
  a good scholar, a sound Christian, and a good liver. He has a very
  happy memory, especially for languages, and a judgment and
  intelligence not inferior. My eldest son at Tiverton has some
  knowledge of him, concerning whom I have writ to him since your last
  to me. My two others, his tutor at Lincoln, and my third of Christ
  Church, have been long and intimately acquainted with him; and I doubt
  not but they will give him, at least, as just a character as I have
  done.

  “And here I shall drop the matter, till I have the honour of hearing
  again from you, and shall either drop it or prosecute it, as appears
  most proper to your maturer judgment; ever remaining, your honour’s
  most sincere, and most obliged friend and servant,       SAMUEL
  WESLEY.”[322]

-----

Footnote 321:

  _Methodist Magazine_, 1845, p. 151.

Footnote 322:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

These are remarkable and important letters, and doubtless served as
links, in the chain of cause and effect, which led to the selection of
John and Charles Wesley for the mission in Georgia. The missionary
spirit was a passion in the Wesley family, when Christian missions to
the heathen scarce existed. John Wesley, after being ejected from his
church living, in 1662, longed to go as a missionary, first to Surinam,
and afterwards to Maryland. Samuel Wesley, his son, when a young man of
between thirty and forty years of age, formed a magnificent scheme to go
as a missionary to India, China, and Abyssinia; and, in the last year of
his life, most feelingly laments that he was not young enough to go to
Georgia. His sons, John and Charles, now at Oxford, caught his spirit,
and, within twelve months after the date of the last letter, actually
went. John Whitelamb, his son-in-law, wished to go; but, for some
unknown reason, was kept at home.

As already stated, Oglethorpe went to Georgia in 1733, with a number of
released debtors, who were the first settlers in the colony. These were
joined by a number of persecuted Protestants, who had been driven from
Salzburg, a city of Bavaria, by the archbishop of the place. On October
14, 1735, six months after Samuel Wesley’s death, Oglethorpe re-embarked
for Georgia, with five hundred and seventy adventurers, among whom were
one hundred and thirty Highlanders, and one hundred and seventy Germans,
of whom a considerable number were Moravians.[323] The trustees of the
colony requested John Wesley and some of his friends to accompany the
emigrants. Wesley consulted his widowed mother. Her answer was: “Had I
twenty sons, I should rejoice they were all so well employed, though I
should never see them more.”[324] The thing was settled, and away Wesley
went, his brother Charles, and their Oxford friends, Benjamin Ingham and
Charles Delamotte, going with him.

-----

Footnote 323:

  _Wesley Family_, vol. ii. p. 175.

Footnote 324:

  Moore’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i. p. 234.

-----

Samuel Wesley strongly wished his son John to be his successor at
Epworth; but John, four months before his father’s death, decisively
declined the proposal. He was resolved to remain at Oxford, because he
imagined he could be holier at Oxford than he could be anywhere else.
The rector died, and then his son changed his mind, and set out on the
very mission upon which his father had set his heart, and to be engaged
in which he would, if he had been ten years younger, have gladly
relinquished Epworth Church. The following letter refers to John
Wesley’s final refusal of his father’s proposition. It was written to
Samuel Wesley, jun., four months previous to Mr Wesley’s decease:—

                                           “EPWORTH, _Dec_. 4, 1734.

  “DEAR SON,—Having pretty many things to write to you, and those of no
  small moment; and being for the most part confined to my house by pain
  and weakness, so that I have not yet ventured to church on a Sunday, I
  have just now sat down to try if I can reduce my thoughts into any
  tolerable order. Though I can write but few lines in a day, yet being
  under my own hand, they may not be the less acceptable to you.

  “I shall throw what I have a mind you shall know, under three heads—1.
  What most immediately concerns our own family. 2. Dick Ellison, the
  wen of my family, and his poor insects that are sucking me to death.
  3. J. Whitelamb;—and, perhaps, in a postscript, a little of my own
  personal affairs, and of the poor.

  “1. Of our family. Your brother John has at last writ me, ‘that it is
  now his unalterable resolution not to accept of Epworth living, if he
  could have it;’ and the reason he gives for it in these words:—‘The
  question is not whether I could do more good to others _there_ or
  _here_, but whether I could do more good to myself; seeing wherever I
  can be most holy myself, there, I am assured, I can most promote
  holiness in others. But I am equally assured there is no place under
  heaven so fit for my improvement as Oxford. Therefore,’ &c.

  “Thus stands his argument. Though I am no more fond of the gripping
  and wrangling distemper than I am of Mr Harper’s[325] boluses and
  clysters, (for age would again have rest,) I sat myself down to try if
  I could unravel his sophisms, and hardly one of his assertions
  appeared to me to be universally true. I think the main of my answer
  was, that he seemed to mistake the end of academical studies, which
  were chiefly preparatory, in order to qualify men to instruct others.

  “He thinks there is no place so fit for his improvement as Oxford. As
  to many sorts of useful knowledge, it may be nearly true; but surely
  there need be a knowledge, too, of men and things (which has not been
  thought the most attainable in a cloister) as well as of books, or
  else we shall find ourselves of much less use in the world.

  “But the best and greatest improvement is in solid piety and religion,
  which (in Oxford) is handy to be got, or promoted, by being hung up in
  Socrates’ basket. But allowing that austerity and mortification may
  either be a means of promoting holiness, or, in some degree, a part of
  it, why may not a man exercise these in his own house as strictly as
  in any college, in any university in Europe, and, perhaps, with less
  censure and observation? Neither can I understand the meaning or drift
  of being thus ever learning, and never coming to a due proficiency in
  the knowledge and practice of the truth, so as to be able commendably
  to instruct others in it.

  “Thus far I have written with my own hand, both to you and your
  brother, for many days together; but I am now so heartily tired that I
  must, contrary to my resolution, get my son Whitelamb to transcribe
  and finish it. I have done what I could, with such a shattered head
  and body, to satisfy the scruples which your brother has raised
  against my proposal, from conscience and duty; but if your way of
  thinking be the same with mine, especially after you have read and
  weighed what follows, you will be able to convince him in a much
  clearer and stronger manner.

  “The remaining considerations I offered to him were for the most part
  such as follow:—I urged, among other things, the great precariousness
  of my own health, and the sensible decay of my strength, so that he
  would hardly know me if he saw me now; the deplorable state in which I
  should leave your mother and the family, and the loss of near forty
  years’ honest labour in this place, where I could expect no other, but
  that the field which I have been so long sowing with good seed, and
  the vineyard, which I have planted with no ignoble vine, must be soon
  rooted up, and the fences of it broken down,—for I am morally
  satisfied, if your brothers both slight it, Mr P—— will be my
  successor.

  “I hinted at one thing, which I mentioned in my letter to your
  brother, whereon I depend more than upon all my own simple reasoning;
  and that is, earnest prayer to Him who smiles at the strongest
  resolutions of mortals, and can, in a moment, change or demolish them;
  who alone can bend the inflexible sinew, and order the irregular wills
  of us simple men to His own glory, and to our happiness. While the
  anchor holds, I despair of nothing, but firmly believe that He who is
  best will do what is best, whether we earnestly will it or will it
  not. There I rest the whole matter, and leave it with Him, to whom I
  have committed all my concerns, without exception and without reserve,
  for soul and body, estate and family, time and eternity.[326]

  “2. As to the second part of my letter concerning R. Ellison,[327] I
  have charity crammed down my throat every day, and sometimes his
  company at meals, which you will believe as pleasant to me as all my
  physic. But this is beyond the reach of all my little prudence, and
  therefore I find I must leave it as I have done, in some good measure
  before, to Him who orders all things.

  “3. The third part of my letter is in relation to my son Whitelamb,
  and is of almost as great concern as the former, and on some accounts
  perhaps greater.[328] You will find the whole affair contained in a
  letter I lately sent to Mr Oglethorpe, and in my son Whitelamb’s to
  myself. The letters are so full, that they have exhausted what we had
  to say on that subject; and nothing at present need or can be added. I
  desire you therefore to weigh the whole with the utmost impartiality;
  and, if you are of the same mind with myself and your mother, who
  entirely approves of the design, that you would yourself write to Mr
  Oglethorpe, as I promised you would, and send him your thoughts, and
  use your good offices about it.

  “And now, as to my minute affairs, I doubt not but you will, as you
  gave me hopes when you went into Devon, improve your interest among
  the gentlemen, your friends, and get me some more subscribers, as
  likewise an account whether there be any prospect yet remaining of
  obtaining any favour from the Duke of Newcastle, in relation to the
  affair.[329]—Yours,

                                               “SAMUEL WESLEY.”[330]

-----

Footnote 325:

  His son-in-law, who was a doctor at Epworth.

Footnote 326:

  Samuel Wesley, jun., wrote to his brother John the day after he
  received this letter from his father; and a sharp correspondence was
  carried on between the two brothers, until the 4th of March 1735,
  which was within two months of their father’s death. John, however, at
  that time, remained as firmly convinced as ever that he could serve
  God and his Church better at Oxford than he could if he removed to
  Epworth.—MOORE’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i. p. 231.

Footnote 327:

  This was the rich man who married Sukey Wesley, and whom Mrs Wesley
  spoke of as being little inferior to the apostate angels in
  wickedness.

Footnote 328:

  This again shows the high importance which Samuel Wesley attached to
  the mission in Georgia; and is proof sufficient that had he been
  alive, the going of his two sons, John and Charles to that colony,
  would have had his hearty approval.

Footnote 329:

  The Duke of Newcastle was at this time Secretary of State, and had
  probably been requested to obtain the consent of Queen Caroline to
  allow Mr Wesley to dedicate to her his “Dissertations on the Book of
  Job.”

Footnote 330:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

The last letter we shall introduce is a review of his life, and
therefore an appropriate conclusion of the present chapter.

It has been already mentioned that Mr Wesley had a brother, named
Matthew,Jwho practised as a physician in London. There does not appear
to have been much intimacy between the two brothers; but, after the fire
at Epworth in 1709, Matthew took to his house his brother’s two
children, Hetty and Susan; and afterwards in 1720, he, in a similar
manner, took Patty, who lived in his house for twelve years, and to
whom, on her marriage, he gave a dowry of £500. Matthew Wesley was a man
of considerable wealth; but he had obtained it by unwearied diligence,
and by the utmost economy. He knew next to nothing of the troubles of a
family, and was ill-qualified to judge of family expenses.

In 1731, accompanied by his man-servant, he started from London to
Epworth on a visit to his brother. He travelled under a feigned name,
and intended to take his brother by surprise; but his man not being so
taciturn as himself, the secret oozed out, and the family were prepared
for his coming. The first day after his arrival he spoke little to the
children, being employed in observing their behaviour, so that he might
know how he ought to like them. He was strangely scandalised at the poor
furniture of the parsonage, and at the meanness of the children’s
clothing, and wondered what his brother had done with all his income. He
always behaved himself decently at family prayers, and, when Mr Wesley
was absent, said grace before and after meat. On his return to London,
he wrote a severe and caustic letter to his brother, accusing him of bad
economy, and of not making provision for his large family. Part of this
strange epistle was as follows:—

  “The same record which assures us an infidel cannot inherit the
  kingdom of heaven, also asserts, in the consequence, that a worse than
  infidel can never do it. It likewise describes the character of such a
  one: ‘He provides not for his own, especially for those of his own
  house.’

  “You have a numerous offspring; you have had a long time a plentiful
  estate, and have made no provision for those of your own house, who
  can have nothing in view at your exit but distress. This I think a
  black account; let the cause be folly, or vanity, or ungovernable
  appetites. I hope Providence has restored you again to give you time
  to settle this balance, which shocks me to think of. To this end, I
  must advise you to be frequent in your perusal of Father Beveridge on
  _Repentance_, and Dr Tillotson on _Restitution_; for it is not saying
  Lord, Lord, will bring us to the kingdom of heaven, but doing justice
  to all our fellow-creatures; and not a poetical imagination that we do
  so. A serious consideration of these things, and suitable actions, I
  doubt not, will qualify you to meet me where sorrow shall be no more,
  which is the highest hope and expectation of yours,

                                              “MATTHEW WESLEY.”[331]

-----

Footnote 331:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

This is an unjust, unfeeling, disreputable letter, and it is certainly
surprising that Mehetabel Wesley, when her uncle died six years after,
should have so eulogised his character as she did, in her elegy,
published in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1737. He might be a man of
much learning and information, a good judge and lover of poetry, and
clever in his profession; but the above epistle makes one doubt that he
was “a man of truly benevolent mind,” and prepares one to receive Patty
Wesley’s statement respecting him, written a year before the time of his
Epworth visit, viz., that he was not converted, nor what he ought to
be.[332] He seems to have been highly esteemed for his professional
ability and services; but a stranger to pure, earnest, heartfelt
godliness. He treated John Wesley’s mission to Georgia with ridicule,
and told Charles that, “if the French had any remarkably dull fellow
among them, they sent him to convert the Indians.” Charles says he
checked and silenced his uncle’s art and eloquence by repeating the
lines of his brother:—

            “To distant realms the apostle need not roam,
            Darkness, alas! and heathens are at home.”[333]

-----

Footnote 332:

  _Ibid._, vol. ii. p. 324.

Footnote 333:

  C. Wesley’s _Journal_, vol. i. p. 59.

-----

A few months before his death, Samuel Wesley replied to his brother’s
accusations, in a long letter, twenty lines of which were written by
himself, about one-half of it by Mrs Wesley, and the remainder by his
son John, who acted as his amanuenses. The letter, which is without
date, is written in a serio-jocose style, and is headed “John o’ Styles’
Apology against the imputation of his ill husbandry.” A friend is
represented as reading Matthew Wesley’s letter to his brother, John o’
Styles, and as reporting the brother’s answer to the charges brought
against him. The pretended narrator says:—

  “When I had read this to my friend John o’ Styles, I was a little
  surprised that he did not fall into flouncing and bouncing, as I have
  too often seen him do on far less provocation, which I ascribed to a
  fit of sickness he had lately had, and which I hope may have brought
  him to something of a better mind. He stood calm and composed for a
  minute or two, and then desired he might peruse the letter, adding,
  that if the matter of fact therein were true, and not aggravated or
  misrepresented, he was obliged in conscience to acknowledge it, and
  ask pardon at least of his family, if he could make them no other
  satisfaction. If it were not true, he owed that justice to himself and
  his family, to clear himself of so vile an imputation. After he had
  read it over he said he did not think it necessary to enter into a
  detail of the history of his whole life, from sixteen to upwards of
  seventy; but he would make some general observations on those general
  accusations which have been brought against him, and then would add
  some balance of his incomes and expenses ever since he entered on the
  stage of life.

  “The sum of the libel may be reduced to the following assertions:—1.
  That John o’ Styles is worse than an infidel, and therefore can never
  go to heaven; which secondly, he aims at proving, because he provides
  not for his own house; as notorious instances of which, he adds, in
  the third place, that in the pursuits of his pleasures he had produced
  a numerous offspring, and has had a long time a plentiful estate, and
  great and generous benefactors, but yet has made no provision for
  those of his own house; which he thinks, in the last place, a black
  account, let the cause be folly, or vanity, or his own irregular
  passions.

  “_Answer._—If God has blessed him with a numerous offspring, he has no
  reason to be ashamed of them, nor they of him, unless perhaps one of
  them. Neither does his conscience accuse him that he has made no
  provision for those of his own house; which general accusation
  includes them all. But has he none, nay, not above one, two, or three,
  to whom he has given the best education which England could afford, by
  God’s blessing on which they live honourably and comfortably in the
  world? Some of them had already been a considerable help to the
  others, as well as to himself; and he has no reason to doubt the same
  of the rest, as soon as God shall enable them to do it. There are many
  gentlemen’s families in England who, by the same method, provide for
  their younger children; and he hardly thinks that there are many of
  greater estates but would be glad to change the best of theirs, or
  even all their stock, for almost the worst of his.

  “Neither is he ashamed in claiming some merit in his having been so
  happy in breeding them up in his own principles and practices—not only
  the priests in his family, but all the rest—to a steady opposition and
  confederacy against all such as are avowed and declared enemies to God
  and his clergy, and who deny or disbelieve any articles of natural or
  revealed religion, as well as to such as are open or secret friends to
  the Great Rebellion, or to any such principles as do but squint
  towards the same practices; so that he hopes they are all staunch
  High-Church, and for inviolable passive obedience;[334] from which, if
  any of them should be so wicked as to degenerate, he cannot tell
  whether he could prevail with himself to give them his blessing;
  though, at the same time, he almost equally abhors all servile
  submission to the greatest and most overgrown tool of State, whose
  avowed design it is to aggrandise his prince at the expense of the
  liberties and properties of his freeborn subjects.[335]

  “Thus much for John o’ Styles’ ecclesiastical and political creed;
  and, as he hopes, for those of his family. And as his adversary adds,
  that ‘at his exit they could have nothing in view but distress, and
  that it is a black account, let the cause be folly, or vanity, or
  ungovernable appetites;’ John o’ Styles answered: He has not the least
  doubt of God’s provision for his family after his decease, if they
  continue in the way of righteousness. As for his folly, he owns he can
  hardly demur to the charge; for he fairly acknowledges he never was,
  nor ever will be, like the children of this world, who are accounted
  wise in their generation, in doting upon this world, courting this
  world, and regarding nothing else: not but that he has all his life
  laboured truly both with his hands, head, and heart, to provide things
  honest in the sight of all men, to get his own living, and that of
  those who have been dependents on him.

  “As for his vanity, he challenges an instance to be given of any
  extravagance in any single branch of his expenses through the whole
  course of his life, either in dress, diet, horses, recreation, or
  diversion, either in himself or family.

  “Now if these, which are the main objections, are wiped off, what
  becomes of the black account, or of the worse than infidelity which
  this _Severus Frater et Avunculus Puerorum_ has, in the plenitude of
  his power, urged, to exclude those, who, for want of equal
  illumination or equal estates, think or act differently from himself,
  out of the kingdom of heaven?

  “As for the plentiful estates, and great and generous benefactions
  which he likewise mentions, the person accused answered, that he could
  never acknowledge as he ought the goodness of God and of his generous
  benefactors; but hopes he may add, that he had never tasted so much of
  their kindness if they had not believed him to be an honest man.

  “Thus much he said in general, but added as to particular instances,
  he should only add a blank balance, and leave it to any after his
  death to cast it up according to common equity; and then they would be
  more proper judges whether he deserved those imputations which are now
  thrown upon him.

    “_Imprimis._—When he first walked to Oxford he had in
  cash,                                                     £2   5   0

    “He lived there till he took his bachelor’s degree,
  without any preferment or assistance, except one crown,    0   5   0

    “By God’s blessing on his own industry he brought to
  London,                                                   10  15   0

    “When he came to London he got deacon’s orders and a
  cure, for which he had, for one year,                     28   0   0

    “In which year, for his board, ordination, and habit,
  he was indebted £30, which he afterwards paid,            30   0   0

    “When he went to sea, where he had for one year £70,
  not paid till two years after his return,                 70   0   0

    “He then got a curacy at £30 per annum for two years,
  and by his own industry in writing, &c., he made it £60
  per annum,                                               120   0   0

  “He married and had a son; and he and his wife and child boarded for
  some years in or near London without running into debt.

  “He had then a living given him in the country, let for £50 per annum,
  where he had five children more; in which time, and while he lived in
  London, he wrote a book, which he dedicated to Queen Mary, who for
  that reason gave him a living in the country, valued at £200 per
  annum, where he remained for nearly forty years, and wherein his
  numerous offspring amounted, with the former, to eighteen or nineteen
  children.

  “Half of his parsonage was first burnt, which he rebuilt: some time
  after the whole was burnt to the ground, which he rebuilt from the
  foundations; and it cost him above £400, besides the furniture, none
  of which was saved, and he was forced to renew it.

  “About ten years since, he got a little living adjoining to his
  former, the profits of which very little more than defrayed the
  expenses of serving it, and sometimes hardly so much; his whole tithe
  having been in a manner swept away by inundations, for which the
  parishioners had a brief, though he thought it not decent for himself
  to be joined with them in it.

  “For the greater part of these last ten years, he has been closely
  employed in composing a large book, whereby he hoped he might have
  done some benefit to the world, and in some measure amended his own
  fortunes. By sticking so close to this, he has broke a pretty strong
  constitution, and fallen into palsy and gout. Besides this, he has had
  sickness in his family for most of the years since he was married.

  “His greater living seldom cleared above £160 per annum, out of which
  he allowed £20 per annum to a person who had married one of his
  daughters. Could we on the whole fix the balance, it would easily
  appear whether he had been an ill husband, or careless and idle, and
  taken no care of his family. Let us range on the one side his income,
  and on the other his expenses while he has been at the top of his
  fortunes, taking them at the full extent:—

 “His income about                “Expended in sickness for
   £200     per annum               above forty years,
   for near     forty
   years,[336]        £8000  0  0                                    £——————

                                  “Expenses in taking his
                                    livings, repairing
                                    houses, &c.,                   160  0  0

                                  “Rebuilding part of his
                                    house the first time,           60  0  0

                                  “Rebuilding the whole
                                    house,                         400  0  0

                                  “Furnishing it,                     ——————

                                  “Eight children born and
                                    buried,                           ——————

                                  “Ten (thank God!) living,
                                    brought up, and educated,         ——————

                                  “Most of the daughters     put
                                    out to a way of living,           ——————

                                  “To three sons for the
                                    best education I could
                                    get them in England,              ——————

                                  “Attending the convocation
                                    three years,                  £150  0  0

  “Let all this be balanced, and then a guess may be easily made of his
  sorry management.

  “He can struggle with the world, but not with Providence; nor can he
  resist sicknesses, fires, and inundations.”[337]

-----

Footnote 334:

  “This is a sly hit at Matthew Wesley, who is supposed to have been a
  Dissenter, and who was thought by some to be indifferent to all forms
  of religion.”—See _Wesley Family_, vol. i. p. 86.

Footnote 335:

  This shaft seems to be levelled against the Duke of Newcastle, or
  perhaps Sir Robert Walpole.

Footnote 336:

  The value of the Epworth living, during the time that Mr Wesley held
  it, was never more than £200 per annum. Mr Kirk states that the same
  living is now worth £952 per annum.

-----

Such was one of the last letters that Samuel Wesley ever wrote; or
rather, we ought to say dictated, for such were his afflictions and
weakness, that nearly the whole of it had to be written by his wife and
by his second son, who penned it from his lips. It is an ample
refutation of the unnatural charges brought against him by his brother;
and scatters to the winds the vague ideas of all those who, in modern
times, have been apt to think of Samuel Wesley as being, upon the whole,
a good-hearted sort of man; but, at the same time, in some way, a
spendthrift, and one who very culpably neglected the interests of his
wife and family. All this is unfounded, unjust, and cruel; the result,
not of research, but of indolent ignorance, which has too readily taken
for granted, that which it ought, first of all, to have examined.

-----

Footnote 337:

  _Wesley Family_, vol. i. p. 239.

-----




                              CHAPTER XX.
                       DEATH AND CHARACTER—1735.


Mr Wesley never fully recovered from the effects of the serious accident
which befell him in 1731. The reader will have perceived this in the
letters given in the previous chapter. Mrs Wesley, writing to her son
John, says, “Your father is in a very bad state of health; he sleeps
little and eats less. He seems not to have any apprehension of his
approaching exit, but I fear he has but a short time to live. It is with
much pain and difficulty that he performs divine service on the
Lord’s-day, which sometimes he is obliged to contract very much.
Everybody observes his decay but himself.”[338]

-----

Footnote 338:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

Mr Wesley had a severe illness about the year 1733, which totally
disabled him for six months. The first two sermons he preached after
this affliction were from the words, “Jesus findeth him in the temple,
and said unto him, Behold, thou art made whole; sin no more, lest a
worse thing come unto thee,” (John v. 14.)

The last two sermons, noted in his memorandum-book, were preached at
Epworth, August 18, 1734, on 1 Sam. xii. 17: “Is it not wheat harvest
to-day? I will call unto the Lord,” &c. After showing that unseasonable
weather, in time of harvest, is a just judgment inflicted by the hand of
God for the wickedness of the people, he proceeds to address his
congregation thus:—“I am afraid, nay, too well assured, that many of you
have hardened your hearts as did Pharaoh; for otherwise, how came the
house of God so empty here last Sunday? The people went in shameful
droves to do their own ways, and find their own pleasures, and speak
their own words; and left a very small flock behind them on their knees
to cry mightily to God that He would have mercy upon us, that we might
not perish.”[339]

There is no evidence that Mr Wesley preached after this. His death-bed
scene was exquisitely beautiful. His sons, John and Charles, were
present, and from both of them we have accounts of it.

John Wesley, in a letter dated March 22, 1748, and supposed to be
written to Archbishop Secker, says:—“My father did not die unacquainted
with the faith of the gospel, of the primitive Christians, or of our
first Reformers; the same which, by the grace of God, I preach, and
which is just as new as Christianity. What he experienced before I know
not; but I know that, during his last illness, which continued eight
months, he enjoyed a clear sense of his acceptance with God. I heard him
express it more than once, although, at that time, I understood him not.
‘The inward witness, son, the inward witness,’ said he to me, ‘that is
the proof, the strongest proof of Christianity.’ And when I asked him
(the time of his change drawing nigh), ‘Sir, are you in much pain?’ He
answered aloud with a smile, ‘God does chasten me with pain, yea, all my
bones with strong pain; but I thank Him for all, I bless Him for all, I
love Him for all!’ I think the last words he spoke, when I had just
commended his soul to God, were, ‘Now you have done all;’ and, with the
same serene, cheerful countenance, he fell asleep without one struggle,
or sigh, or groan. I cannot therefore doubt but the Spirit of God bore
an inward witness with his spirit that he was a child of God.”[340]

John Wesley, in his sermon on Love, preached at Savannah in 1736, again
adverts to his father’s death, and says:—“When asked, not long before
his release, ‘Are the consolations of God small with you?’ He replied
aloud, ‘No, no, no!’ and then calling all that were near him by their
names, he said, ‘Think of heaven, talk of heaven; all the time is lost
when we are not thinking of heaven.’”[341]

-----

Footnote 339:

  _Wesley Family._

Footnote 340:

  “This letter was written during a controversy with Secker, respecting
  the doctrine of the witness of the Spirit.”—WESLEY’s _Works_, vol.
  xii. p. 93.

Footnote 341:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. vii. p. 475.

-----

Charles Wesley’s description of his father’s death is more lengthened,
and is contained in a letter addressed to his brother Samuel, and which
was first published by Dr Priestley in 1791. The letter was written two
days after the funeral, and is as follows:—

                                         “EPWORTH, _April 30, 1735_.

  “DEAR BROTHER,—After all your desire of seeing my father alive, you
  are at last assured you must see his face no more till he is raised in
  incorruption. You have reason to envy us, who could attend him in the
  last stage of his illness. The few words he could utter I saved, and
  hope never to forget. Some of them were, ‘Nothing too much to suffer
  for heaven. The weaker I am in body, the stronger and more sensible
  support I feel from God. There is but a step between me and death.
  To-morrow I will see you all with me round this table, that we may
  once more drink of the cup of blessing before we drink of it new in
  the kingdom of God. With desire have I desired to eat this passover
  with you before I die.’

  “The morning he was to communicate, he was so exceeding weak and full
  of pain, that he could not, without the utmost difficulty, receive the
  elements, often repeating, ‘Thou shakest me, thou shakest me;’ but,
  immediately after receiving, there followed the most visible
  alteration. He appeared full of faith and peace, which extended even
  to his body, for he was so much better that we almost hoped he would
  have recovered.[342] The fear of death he had entirely conquered, and
  at last gave up his latest human desires of finishing Job, paying his
  debts, and seeing you. He often laid his hand upon my head and said,
  ‘Be steady. The Christian faith will surely revive in this kingdom;
  you shall see it, though I shall not.’[343] To my sister Emily, he
  said, ‘Do not be concerned at my death, God will then begin to
  manifest himself to my family.’[344] On my asking him whether he did
  not find himself worse, he replied, ‘Oh my Charles, I feel a great
  deal, God chastens me with strong pain, but I praise Him for it, I
  thank Him for it, I love Him for it.’

  “On the 25th his voice failed him, and nature seemed entirely spent,
  when, on my brother’s asking, ‘Whether he was not near heaven?’ he
  answered distinctly, and with the most of hope and triumph that could
  be expressed in sounds, ‘Yes, I am.’ He spoke once more, just after my
  brother had used the commendatory prayer; his last words were, ‘Now,
  you have done all!’

  “This was about half an hour after six, from which time till sunset he
  made signs of offering up himself, till my brother, having again used
  the prayer, the very moment it was finished, he expired.

  “His passage was so smooth and insensible that, notwithstanding the
  stopping of his pulse, and ceasing of all sign of life and motion, we
  continued over him a considerable time in doubt whether the soul was
  departed or no. My mother (who for several days before he died, hardly
  ever went into his chamber but she was carried out again in a fit) was
  far less shocked at the news than we expected, and told us that now
  she was heard, in his having so easy a death, and in her being
  strengthened so to bear it.

  “My brother had laid aside all hopes or fears (for I cannot certainly
  say which) of succeeding; but, by yours, we guess Mr Oglethorpe has
  quickened him. A petition might easily be sent if now necessary. A
  neighbouring clergyman has sent word that ‘he has the living,’ which
  would be bad news, but that another as confidently affirms he has it.
  How many more may be sure of it we cannot say, but if Providence
  pleases a Wesley will have it after all, though in the gift of the
  crown. I hope, and so does my brother, that you will have their wish,
  and that he may fail of his.

  “Though you have lost your chief reason for coming, yet there are
  others which make your presence more necessary than ever. My mother,
  who will hardly ever leave Epworth, would be exceedingly glad to see
  you as soon as can be. She does not administer, so can neither sue nor
  be sued. We have computed the debts as near as can be, and find they
  amount to about £100, exclusive of cousin Richardson’s. Mrs Knight,
  her landlady, seized all her quick stock, valued at above £40 for £15
  my father owed her on Monday last, the day he was buried; and my
  brother this afternoon gives a note for the money, in order to get the
  stock at liberty to sell; for security of which he has the stock made
  over to him, and will be paid as it can be sold. My father was buried
  very frugally, yet decently, in the churchyard according to his own
  desire. It will be highly necessary to bring all accounts of what he
  owed you, that you may mark all the goods in the house as principal
  creditor, and thereby secure to my mother time and liberty to sell
  them to the best advantage. All papers and letters of importance I
  have sealed up and keep till you come.

  “If you take London in your way, my mother desires you would remember
  she is a clergyman’s widow. Let the society give her what they
  please—she must be still in some degree _burdensome_ to you, as she
  calls it. How do I envy you that glorious burden, and wish I could
  share it. You must put me in some way of getting a little money, that
  I may do something in this shipwreck of the family, for somebody,
  though it be no more than furnishing a plank.

  “My mother sends her love and blessing; we all send our love to you,
  and to my sister and Phill. I should be ashamed of having so much
  business in my letter were it not necessary. I would choose to write
  and think of nothing but my father. Before we meet I hope you will
  have finished his elegy. Pray write if there be time.—I am, your most
  affectionate brother,

                                              “CHARLES WESLEY.”[345]

-----

Footnote 342:

  From this, good old Henry Moore deduced the inference that he now, for
  the first time, received the witness of the Spirit; and that, until
  now, “this good man had laboured in the fear of God through a long
  legal night of nearly seventy years.” Absurd nonsense!

Footnote 343:

  Strange words these, and gloriously fulfilled.

Footnote 344:

  Another remarkable utterance, remarkably fulfilled.

Footnote 345:

  _Original Letters_, published by Priestley, p. 55.

-----

Thus lived and died Samuel Wesley.[346] Near the east end of Epworth
Church, there is a plain grit tombstone, supported by brick-work, on
which is cut the following inscription, said to have been composed by
Mrs Wesley. Passing over the absurd manner in which it is divided, it is
utterly unworthy of the distinguished man whose memory it is intended to
perpetuate:—

                                  “Here
                            Lyeth all that was
                        Mortal of _Samuel Wesley_,
                     A.M. He was rector of _Epworth_
                          39 years, and departed
                       this Life 25 of April 1735,
                                 Aged 72.


                         As he liv’d so he died,
                        in the true Catholic Faith
                      of the Holy Trinity in Unity,
                      And that _Jesus Christ_ is God
                         incarnate: and the only
                           Saviour of Mankind.
                               Acts iv. 12.

                          ‘Blessed are the dead
                       Which die in the Lord, yea,
                     saith the Spirit, that they may
                       rest from their labours and
                       Their works do follow them.’
                           Rev. xiv. 13.”[347]

-----

Footnote 346:

  The following appeared in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1735:—“Died,
  April 25, at Epworth, in Lincolnshire, the Rev. Mr Samuel Wesley,
  M.A., rector of that parish, a person of singular parts, piety, and
  learning; author of several poetical and controversial pieces. He had
  for some years been composing a critical ‘Dissertation on the Book of
  Job,’ which he has left unfinished, and almost printed. He proved,
  ever since his minority, a most zealous asserter of the doctrine and
  discipline of the Church of England.”

-----

Our task is ended. Many and pleasant have been the hours spent in
tracing the history of one of the noblest men that God ever made. It is
superfluous to say more respecting him; and yet, with a lingering
reluctance to quit the work, we cannot deny ourselves the gratification
of adding a few more words concerning his general character.

Samuel Wesley, jun., wrote an elegy immediately after his father’s
death, which his brother John published in the first volume of the
_Arminian Magazine_. The following are extracts:—

          “With opening life his early worth began,
          The boy misleads not, but foreshows the man.
          Directed wrong, though first he miss’d the way,
          Train’d to mistake, and disciplined to stray;
          Not long:—for reason gilded error’s night,
          And doubts, well-founded, shot a dawn of light—
          Nor prejudice o’ersway’d his heart and head.
          Resolved to follow truth where’er she led,
          The radiant track audacious to pursue
          From fame, from interest, and from friends he flew.
          Those shock’d him first who laugh at human sway,
          Who preach, ‘Because commanded, disobey;’
          Alike the crown and mitre who forswore,
          And scoff’d profanely at the martyr’s gore;
          Though not in vain the sacred current flow’d,
          Which gave this champion to the Church of God.
            “No worldly views the real convert call;
          He sought God’s altar when it seem’d to fall;
          To Oxford hasted, even in dangerous days,
          When royal anger struck the fated place;
          When senseless policy was pleased to view
          With favour all religions but the true.
            “Nor yet unmention’d shall in silence lie
          His slighted and derided poetry;
          hate’er his strains, still glorious was his end,
          Faith to assert, and virtue to defend.
            “He sung how God the Saviour deign’d to expire,
          With Vida’s piety though not his fire;
          Deduced his Maker’s praise from age to age,
          Through the long annals of the sacred page;
          And not inglorious was the poet’s fate,
          Liked and rewarded by the good and great;
          For gracious smiles not pious Anne denied,
          And beauteous Mary bless’d him when she died.”

-----

Footnote 347:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

The poetry of the Epworth rector has unquestionably been “slighted and
derided,” and it must be honestly confessed that some of his verses are
exceedingly careless and inharmonious; but this was not so much the
fault of the man’s poetic genius, as of his too great haste in writing
them. His poems were written amid the pressure of parochial duties; and,
we incline to think, sometimes when he was hard pushed for want of food
and clothes for himself and family. Even his most hasty and unfinished
pieces flash with the purest poetic fire, and are not without signs that
the man who wrote them was a bard of the highest order. It was from him
that his three sons, Samuel, John, and Charles, and his two daughters,
Emilia and Mehetabel, inherited that remarkable poetic passion, which
gave birth to some of the finest verse in the English language. Copious
extracts from his poetry have been already given; but as yet no mention
has been made of his “Eupolis’s Hymn to the Creator.”[348] Dr Adam
Clarke pronounces this poem to be “the finest on the subject in the
English language. It possesses what Racine calls the _genie createur_,
the genuine spirit of poetry. It is not saying too much to assert, the
man who was the author of what is called ‘Eupolis’s Hymn to the
Creator,’ had he taken time, care, and pains, and had not been
continually harassed with the _res augusta domi_, would have adorned the
highest walks of poetry.”[349]

-----

Footnote 348:

  Some writers have been disposed to think that this poem was at least,
  in part, the production of Mehetabel Wesley, but John Wesley always
  declared that it was written by his father.—MOORE’s _Life of Wesley_,
  vol. i. p. 48.

Footnote 349:

  _Wesley Family._

-----

This remarkable poem was first published by John Wesley, in the
_Arminian Magazine_ for 1778, and the following are extracts from it:—

                “Author of Being! Source of Light!
                With unfading beauties bright,
                Fulness, goodness, rolling round,
                Thy own fair orb, without a bound;
                Whether Thee, thy suppliants call,
                Truth, or Good, or One, or All,
                _Ei_, or Jao; Thee we hail,
                Essence that can never fail.

                “Thee, when morning greets the skies,
                With rosy cheeks and humid eyes;
                Thee, when sweet declining day,
                Sinks in purple waves away;
                Thee will I sing, O parent Jove!
                And teach the world to praise and love.

                “Yonder azure vault on high,
                Yonder blue, low, liquid sky,
                Earth, on its firm basis placed,
                And with circling waves embraced,
                All-creating power confess,
                All their mighty Maker bless.

                “The feather’d souls that swim the air,
                And bathe in liquid ether there,
                The lark, precentor of their choir,
                Leading them higher still and higher,
                Listen and learn; the angelic notes
                Repeating in their warbling throats;
                And ere to soft repose they go,
                Teach them to their lords below;
                On the green turf, their mossy nest,
                The evening anthem swells their breast.

                “Source of Light! Thou bid’st the sun,
                On his burning axles run;
                The stars like dust around him fly,
                And strew the area of the sky.

                “O ye nurses of soft dreams,
                Reedy brooks, and winding streams,
                Or murm’ring o’er the pebbles sheen,
                Or sliding through the meadows green,
                Or where through matted sedge you creep,
                Travelling to your Parent deep,
                Sound His praise by whom you rose,
                That Sea, which neither ebbs nor flows.

                “No evil can from Thee proceed;
                ’Tis only suffer’d, not decreed—
                Darkness is not from the sun,
                Nor mount the shades till he is gone.

                “O Father, King! whose Heavenly face
                Shines serene on all Thy race;
                We Thy magnificence adore,
                And Thy well-known aid implore:
                Nor vainly for Thy help we call;
                Nor can we want, for Thou art All!”

Mr Wesley was a man of immense reading, and was possessed of great
vivacity and wit. Sometimes he has been represented as of a harsh and
stern character; but nothing can be farther from the truth than
this—“His children,” says Miss Wesley, his granddaughter, “idolised his
memory.” They would scarce have done that if he had been ungenial and
gruff. It is true, he kept his children in the strictest order; but he
also evinced the greatest tenderness, and thus secured both the respect
and love of his numerous family. To his judicious method of instructing
and managing his offspring, the Methodists owe an incalculable debt of
gratitude; and, on this account, his name among them ought to be held in
lasting remembrance. He was full of anecdote, and of witty and wise
sayings, which gave to his private conversations great interest. The
withering wit of his son Samuel, the quiet sarcasm of his son John, the
playful raillery of his daughter Emilia, and the keen satire of
Mehetabel, were all inherited from himself. In early life he was
connected with some of the greatest wits then flourishing, and to the
day of his death highly relished pleasantry, when it was pure and
good-tempered.

One instance, given by Dr Adam Clarke, is as follows:—At Temple Belwood,
near Epworth, lived a miserly man, who, contrary to the whole tenor of
his life, once mustered courage enough to invite a few friends to
dinner. Mr Wesley was present, and displayed his wit, and his great
facility in composition, by repeating, impromptu, at the close of such
an unusual festival:—

          “Thanks for this feast! for ’tis no less
          Than eating manna in the wilderness.
          Here some have starved, where we have found relief,
          And seen the wonders of a chine of beef.
          Here chimneys smoke, which never smoked before,
          And we have dined, where we shall dine no more.”

Which last line was immediately confirmed by the mean-spirited host, who
said, “No, gentlemen; it is too expensive.”

Dr Clarke relates another story, which was somewhat severely criticised
in the _Methodist Magazine_ for 1824; was corrected by Mr Watson in his
Life of Wesley, in 1831; and has been sharply handled by Mr Kirk, in his
graphic biography of 1864. Because the story has excited so much
attention, I feel bound to give it. Dr Clarke says he has related the
story, as nearly as possible, in the very words used by John Wesley to
himself, when they last met in Bristol.

Samuel Wesley had a clerk, who was well-meaning and honest, but, at the
same time, weak and vain. Of this, an instance is given somewhat
ludicrous. It is said, that on the return of King William from one of
his martial expeditions, this self-conceited official rose up, in the
midst of divine service, in Epworth church, and, with the nasal twang
usual among such functionaries, and to the unfortunate amusement of the
congregation, said—“Let us sing, to the praise and glory of God, a hymn
of my own composing:—

                 “King William is come home, come home,
                   King William home is come;
                 Therefore let us together sing,
                   The hymn that is called ‘Te D’um.’”

This poetical clerk believed the rector, Mr Wesley, to be the greatest
man in Epworth parish; and that, as he stood next to him in church
services, he was also next in worth and dignity. Among the man’s other
emoluments was the privilege of wearing the rector’s cast-off clothes
and wigs, for the latter of which his head was far too small. Mr Wesley,
finding him particularly vain of one of these wigs, formed the design to
mortify him in the presence of the congregation. One morning, before
church time, Mr Wesley said, “John, I shall preach on a particular
subject to-day; and shall choose my own psalm, of which I shall give out
the first line, and you shall proceed as usual.” Accordingly the service
went forward as it was wont to do, till the time came for singing, when
Mr Wesley gave out the following line—

                     “Like to an owl in ivy bush”—

This was sung, and then John, peeping out of his large canonical wig,
proceeded with the next line, and, in the orthodox twang, drawled out—

                       “That rueful thing am I!”

The congregation, struck with John’s appearance, saw the ludicrousness
of the coincidence, and, to John’s great mortification, burst into a fit
of laughter.

Such is Dr Clarke’s version of the story. The reviewer in the magazine
objects to it—first, Because it was too trivial to merit a place in such
a work; second, Because it reflects upon the good-nature of Mr Wesley,
and upon his attention to that uniform dignity and seriousness of
demeanour which are justly expected from a Christian minister; and
third, Because, in one important particular, the story was untrue, for
Mr Wesley took no part in the business whatever; but the whole was the
culpable trick of the whimsical clerk, who chose such an opportunity of
rendering himself ridiculous, and of making his neighbours laugh.

Mr Watson admits that the anecdote is laughable enough, but says, it
“implicates Mr Wesley in an irreverent act in the house of God, of which
he was not capable;” and moreover, “Mr Wesley had no hand in selecting
the psalm, which appears to have been purely accidental.”

Mr Kirk takes the same view, and further, doubts whether such lines were
ever read at all; or, if they were, he suggests that they must have been
part of another hymn of the clerk’s “own composing.” Perhaps so; Mr Kirk
says neither he nor his friends have been able to find anything like the
lines in either Sternhold and Hopkins, or in any other of the “old
versions” of the Psalms. This is quite correct, and we believe that the
exact lines above recited cannot be found in any “version;” but the
following occur in an edition of Sternhold’s, published in 1729, and now
before us:—

                      “And as an owl in desert is,
                        Lo, I am such an one;
                      I watch, and as a sparrow on
                        The house-top am alone.”

The origin of the doubts respecting the authenticity of the story may be
found in the following letter, published in the _Wesleyan Times_
newspaper of March 7, 1864. It was written to Dr Clarke by Miss Sarah
Wesley, at the time he published his “Wesley Family:”—

                                                    “_May 28, 1822._

  “MY DEAR DOCTOR,—I omitted to mention one material circumstance in my
  last, relative to the clerk and his psalm, as I well remember hearing
  my good father, ‘(the Rev. Charles Wesley,)’ relate it to us.

  “It was not by my grandfather’s appointment he gave it out, but from
  the clerk’s own sagacity, little suspecting the old Caxon resembled
  him to an owl.

  “Indeed, a pious pastor would not have excited a laugh in a sacred
  place, or punished a silly blockhead at the expense of interrupting
  the devotion of a whole congregation; but as anecdotes never lose by
  tradition, you have heard it was design, not accident. Dean Swift
  might have done so, but not Samuel Wesley, senior, who had ever
  inculcated the duty, even in psalmody, of worshipping the Lord with
  reverence.

  “My dear father told me the circumstance when pointing out to us the
  follies to which vanity exposed a man, and the effects they produced.
  But my worthy grandfather could not, consistent with his respect to
  the sacred place, have directed a silly man to divert his audience.
  Accidentally it was indeed ludicrous, and might have cured him of a
  little innocent vanity, for all the people saw the resemblance.

  “I never recollected, till my last letter went, that I had left out
  this statement, and hope it will come time enough for the fact to be
  mentioned as it was; for, otherwise, there is a shade cast on my good
  old ancestor which no wit can chase away.”

In another letter to Dr Clarke, dated “Jan. 24, 1824,” the same writer
says:—

  “Your authority for John, the clerk, is my dear uncle; ours, my father
  and Aunt Hall, who, had they lived, I doubt not, would have stood to
  their account of the circumstance, and contested it with their good
  brother; who, when he related it to you, was considerably advanced in
  years, and far more likely to misplace circumstances, with such a
  weight of business and years, than my father or aunt, who had made us
  acquainted with the anecdote in the vigour of their memory. If it were
  as you state, I am persuaded had my dear uncle been younger, he never
  would have related (without disapprobation, even of his own parent)
  such conduct in a church.”[350]

-----

Footnote 350:

  _Wesleyan Times_ for March 28, 1864.

-----

Dr Clarke still adhered to the correctness of his version of the story,
and defended the action on the ground that “it was the only way in which
a weak, well-meaning, but vain man, could be cured of a vanity
discreditable to himself and troublesome to others;” and that “the means
employed were as innocent, as they were appropriate and efficient.” He
also justifies his publication of the anecdote, because he thought the
thing was “characteristic of the man;” that it is “from facts of this
nature that the biographer forms a proper estimate of the character he
describes;” and that, without “such incidents,” he must “plod on in dry
detail of facts,” in a manner “little pleasing to himself,” and almost
“unsupportable to his readers.”

This is all that the writer knows respecting this paltry business, which
has become far more important than it deserves to be. It has already
occupied too much of the writer’s space, and hence, without any comment
of his own, he leaves the ingenious reader to form his own opinion.

Matthew Wesley, in the letter already quoted in the previous chapter,
insinuates that his brother had indulged in “ungovernable appetites.”
This was an unfounded and cruel accusation. In all respects, Samuel
Wesley was a most temperate and frugal man, except, perhaps, in his
indulgence of snuff and tobacco.

Living in the midst of Lincolnshire fens, it is not surprising that he
used the pipe; for the belief was common that it helped to prevent
disease. It is not improbable, however, that the weed was an early
friend; for, in the _Athenian Oracle_, while the editors allow that
tobacco when immoderately used is insalubrious, they also, as is usual
with smokers, contend that, when properly employed, it helps to cure
headaches, toothaches, asthmas, and old coughs; and though it might
induce drinking, yet so did the eating of bread and cheese or Westphalia
ham. Snuff, however, seems to have been Mr Wesley’s favourite
indulgence; and on this account he was, perhaps, undutifully attacked by
his son, Samuel, as early as the year 1714, in one of the keenest
satires that the young poet ever penned. Speaking of the box, he says:—

            “The snuff-box first provokes our just disdain,
            That rival of the fan and of the cane.
            Your modern beaux to richest shrines intrust
            Their worthless stores of fashionable dust.”

And again of snuff itself:—

          “Strange is the power of snuff, whose pungent grains
          Can make fops speak, and furnish beaux with brains;
          Nor care of cleanliness, nor love of dress,
          Can save their clothes from brick-dust nastiness.
          Some think the part too small of modish sand
          Which at a niggard pinch they can command;
          Nor can their fingers for that task suffice,
          Their nose too greedy, not their hands too nice;
          To such a height with these is fashion grown,
          They feed their very nostrils with a spoon.
          One, and but one degree is wanting yet,
          To make our senseless luxury complete;
          Some choice regale, useless as snuff, and dear,
          To feed the mazy windings of the ear.”

This withering satire was written by young Wesley at the request of his
aunt, Ann Annesley, and for it he makes a graceful and not unneeded
apology to his father. Mr Kirk thinks that, because of his
embarrassments, Samuel Wesley ought to have dispensed with the luxuries
of the pipe and of snuff; but perhaps if Mr Kirk himself had ever used
them, his opinion would have been somewhat modified. John Wesley says
the use of tobacco is “an uncleanly and unwholesome self-indulgence;”
and that the use of snuff is “a silly, nasty, dirty custom.”[351] He
enacted a law, making it imperative that on no account should any of his
preachers take snuff, and that they should strongly dissuade the
Methodists from taking it, and should answer all their pretences for
doing so, and especially the pretence that it cured the colic.[352] He
directed that, on receiving “new helpers” at Conference, solemn fasting
and prayer should be used, and this question among others be proposed to
the presented candidates, “Do you take no snuff, tobacco, drams?”[353]
We have not a syllable to say against all this. We believe that, for
medical purposes, smoking and snuffing have no good in them; and,
moreover, we share in the disgust felt by thousands of intelligent and
good people at seeing so many empty-headed boys of the present
generation attempting to deceive the public, and to make them believe
that they are men, because they happen to have the audacity to cultivate
a jagged moustache, and to smoke a pipe; yet, considering the
sequestered life which Mr Wesley lived, and considering the almost
unceasing troubles through which he had to pass, we can easily excuse
his seeking, at so insignificant an expense, the sort of soothing stupor
or cerebral solace, which, as old smokers and old snuffers tell us, is
derivable from the much abused, fragrant weed, tobacco.

-----

Footnote 351:

  _Wesley’s Works_, vol. xii. pp. 231, 232.

Footnote 352:

  _Ibid._, vol. viii. p. 296.

Footnote 353:

  _Ibid._, p. 312.

-----

For forty-seven years Mr Wesley was a diligent, faithful minister of
Christ.

“As a pastor,” says Dr Whitehead, “he was indefatigable in the duties of
his office: a constant preacher, feeding the flock with the pure
doctrines of the gospel; and diligent in visiting the sick, and
administering such advice as their situations required. This integrity
was conspicuous, and his conduct uniform. Few men have been so diligent
in the pastoral office as he was; none perhaps more so. Though his
income was small, and his family large, he had always something to give
to those in distress. In conversation he was grave, yet instructive,
lively, and full of anecdote. His last moments were as conspicuous for
resignation and Christian fortitude, as his life had been for zeal and
diligence.”[354]

-----

Footnote 354:

  Whitehead’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i. pp. 21 and 32.

-----

“Mr Wesley,” says the Rev. John Hampson, “was a voluminous writer. He
was the author of a Latin Comment on Job; a work of much erudition, and
perhaps for that reason but little read. He also wrote the History of
the Bible, and the Life of Christ in verse, with several smaller pieces.
His larger poems were rather injurious than advantageous to his
reputation; and, instead of increasing his estimation with the public,
exposed him to the derision of the wits, and the censure of the
critics.[355] But Mr Wesley’s talents as a writer are the least of his
praise. He was not merely a man of learning and ability. His piety and
integrity were striking and exemplary. He was given to hospitality; and
in every respect a most excellent parish priest. The last moments of
this valuable man were crowned with most striking fortitude,
magnanimity, and Christian resignation. It is no exaggeration to say,
that a better man, or a more vigilant and faithful pastor, he did not
leave behind him. He united the zeal and courage of a martyr, with the
simplicity and evangelical spirit of an apostle; and though he had no
great cause to boast the munificence, he possessed the esteem of some of
the first characters in the nation.”[356]

-----

Footnote 355:

  This is true only in part. Some of the wits and critics, as Garth,
  ridiculed Wesley; but others very highly extolled him.

Footnote 356:

  Hampson’s _Life of Wesley_, vol. i.

-----

“Samuel Wesley,” says Dr Clarke, “was of a short stature; of a spare,
but athletic make; and nearly resembled in person his son John. It is
likely that the picture prefixed to his ‘Dissertations on the Book of
Job’ was a correct resemblance of him.[357]

“He was earnest, conscientious, and indefatigable in his search after
truth. He thought deeply on every subject which was either to form an
article in his creed, or a principle for his conduct. His orthodoxy was
pure and solid; his religious conduct strictly correct; his piety
towards God ardent; his loyalty to his king unsullied; and his love to
his fellow-creatures strong and unconfined. Though of High Church
principles and High Church politics,[358] yet he could separate the
_man_ from the _opinions_ he held, and when he found him in distress,
knew him only as a friend and brother. He was a rigid disciplinarian,
both in his church and his family. He knew all his parishioners. He
visited them from house to house; he sifted their creed, and permitted
none to be corrupt in their opinions or in their practices, without
instruction or reproof. In this manner he went through his parish, which
was near three miles long, three times; and he was visiting it the
fourth time round when he fell into his last sickness.”[359]

-----

Footnote 357:

  We doubt the correctness of the statement that Wesley “was of a short
  stature.” The likeness referred to, of which the portrait in this
  volume is a faithful copy, does not convey this idea.

Footnote 358:

  Once more we protest against this. What were High Church principles
  and politics? Bishop Burnet, who flourished at the time when the names
  of High Church and Low Church were first introduced, shall answer. He
  writes, (_History of Own Times_, vol. ii. p. 347:)—“All that treated
  the Dissenters with temper and moderation, and were for residing
  constantly at their cures, and for labouring diligently in them; that
  expressed a zeal against the Prince of Wales, and for the Revolution;
  that wished well to the present war, and to the alliance against
  France, were called Low Churchmen.” If such was a Low Churchman, of
  course, a High Churchman was just the opposite. Who, in the face of
  this, will pretend to say that Samuel Wesley was “of High Church
  principles, and High Church politics?”

Footnote 359:

  Clarke’s _Wesley Family_.

-----

Nothing more is needed. In the foregoing testimonies the writer heartily
concurs. Mr Wesley’s behaviour, as a parish clergyman, was in all
respects exemplary excepting one; we mean his enforcement of canonical
laws concerning penance, the neglect of which, we are bound to say,
would have been more virtuous than the observance.

Remarks have sometimes been made to the effect that Mr Wesley’s labours
were honoured with but small success; and, in support of this, the
testimony of his son John is quoted, but quoted only in part. The entire
entry in his journal is as follows:—“1742. Sunday, June 13.—I preached
in Epworth churchyard to a vast multitude, gathered together from all
parts. I continued among them for near three hours, and yet we scarce
knew how to part. Oh, let none think his labour of love is lost because
the fruit does not immediately appear! Near forty years did my father
labour here, but he saw little fruit of all his labour. I took some
pains among this people too, and my strength also seemed spent in vain;
but now the fruit appeared. There were scarce any in the town on whom
either my father or I had taken any pains formerly, but the seed, sown
so long since, now sprung up, bringing forth repentance and remission of
sins.”[360]

-----

Footnote 360:

  Wesley’s _Works_, vol. i., p 356.

-----

If this testimony of John Wesley means what it says, it means that the
labours of his father at Epworth, so far from being barren, were crowned
with great results; only the results were more visible after his death
than they were before.

We have already seen that Mr Wesley outlived the brutal hostility with
which he was met during the first years of his residence at Epworth, and
that his dozen communicants had increased to above a hundred. But
besides all this, we have another testimony by his son John, contained
in a letter written to the venerable father a few months only before his
death. He says—“For many years you have diligently fed the flock
committed to your care with the sincere milk of the Word. Many of them
the Great Shepherd has, by your hand, delivered from the hand of the
Destroyer, some of whom have already entered into peace, and some remain
unto this day. For myself, I doubt not but when your warfare is
accomplished you shall come to your grave, not with sorrow, but as a
ripe shock of corn, full of years and victories.”[361]

-----

Footnote 361:

  _Original Letters_, published by Priestley, p. 40.

-----

Such a declaration sufficiently refutes the vague, floating idea
respecting Samuel Wesley’s want of ministerial success; but had such
testimony not existed, and had the idea mentioned been strictly true, it
would have been enough of honour, for even so good a man as the Epworth
rector, to be the author of some of the best books in the English
language, and to be the father of the greatest evangelist of modern
times, and of the best sacred bard that has flourished since the days
when the poetic lyre was made to vibrate music so sweetly celestial,
under the wondrous inspired touch of David the son of Jesse.

                               APPENDIX.

                              A, page 83.
             TITLES OF THE POEMS IN MR WESLEY’S “MAGGOTS.”

The Titles, in brief, are as follows:—

 1. A Maggot.
 2. Two Soldiers Killing one another for a Groat.
 3. A Tame Snake in a Box of Bran.
 4. The Grunting of a Hog.
 5. To my Gingerbread Mistress.
 6. The Bear-faced Lady.
 7. A Pair of Breeches.
 8. A Tobacco Pipe.
 9. A Cow’s Tail.
 10. The Liar.
 11. A Hat broke at Cudgels.
 12. A Covetous Old Fellow.
 13. A Supper of a —— Duck.
 14. To the Laud of a Shock Bitch.
 15. Elegy on the Death of Poor Spot.
 16. A Box like an Egg.
 17. The Beggar and Poet.
 18. Plures aluit Aristoteles quam Alexander.
 19. A King turned Thresher.
 20. A Discourteous Damsel.
 21. A Cheese.
 22. A Journey.
 23. The Leather Bottle.
 24. Out of Lucian’s true History.

Then follow the Dialogues, viz.:—

 1. Between a Thatcher and a Gardener.
 2. Between a Herring and a Whale.
 3. Between a Utensil and a Frying-pan.

After these the following, viz.:—

 1. Against a Kiss.
 2. On a Certain Nose.
 3. In Praise of Horns.
 4. Advice to Monsieur Ragoo.
 5. A Pretended Scholar.
 6. Three Skips of a Louse.

                              B, page 93.
             LIST OF PAMPHLETS PUBLISHED AT THE TIME OF THE
                          REVOLUTION IN 1688.

1. Reflections upon the late Great Revolution. Written by a Lay-Hand in
the country for the satisfaction of some neighbours. Licensed April 9,
1689. London: Printed for R. Chiswell, 1689. 4to. 68 pp.

2. The History of the Desertion; or, Account of all the Public Affairs
in England, from September 1688 to the 12th of February 1689. By a
person of Quality. Licensed April 10, 1689. Printed for R. Chiswell.
London: 1689. 4to. Pp. 162.

3. The Case of Allegiance, in our present circumstances, considered. In
a Letter from a Minister in the City to a Minister in the Country.
Licensed March 21, 1689. London: Printed for R. Chiswell, 1689. 4to. Pp.
34.

4. A Justification of the Whole Proceedings of their Majesties King
William and Queen Mary; of their Royal Highnesses Prince George and
Princess Ann; of the Convocation, Army, Ministers of State, and others,
in this Great Revolution. By Authority. Printed for Randal Taylor, 1689.
4to. Pp. 37.

5. Remarks upon a Paper, entitled, An Inquiry into the Measures of
Submission to the Supreme Authority. London: 1689. 4to. Pp. 48.

6. A Seasonable Discourse, wherein is examined What is Lawful during the
confusions and revolutions of Government, especially in the case of a
King deserting his Kingdom, &c. Printed by Rd. Janeway, 1689. 4to. Pp.
72.

7. A Modest Examination of the New Oath of Allegiance. By a Divine of
the Church of England. London: Printed for R. Taylor, 1689. 4to. Pp. 8.

8. The Case of the People of England in their present circumstances
considered, showing how far they are or are not obliged by the Oath of
Allegiance. London: Printed for R. Taylor, 1689. 4to. Pp. 20.

9. The Sovereign Right and Power of the People over Tyrants clearly
stated and plainly proved, with some Reflections on the late posture of
affairs. By a True Protestant Englishman, and well-wisher to Posterity.
London: 1689. 4to. Pp. 27.

10. An Examination of the Scruples of those who refuse to take the Oath
of Allegiance. By a Divine of the Church of England. London: Printed for
R. Chiswell, 1689. Pp. 34.

11. A friendly Conference concerning the New Oath of Allegiance, wherein
the Objections against taking the Oaths are impartially examined, and
the reasons of obedience confirmed from the writings of the profound
Bishop Sanderson, &c. By a Divine of the Church of England. Licensed
April 19, 1689. London: Printed for S. Smith. 4to. Pp. 35.

12. Some Considerations touching Succession and Allegiance. London:
Printed for R. Chiswell, 1689. Licensed April 9, 1689. 4to. Pp. 34

13. Considerations humbly offered for taking the Oath of Allegiance to
King William and Queen Mary. London: Printed for J. Leake, 1689. 4to.
Pp. 62.

14. The New Oath of Allegiance justified from the original constitution
of the English Monarchy. London: Printed for Randal Taylor, 1689. 4to.
Pp. 27.

15. Reflections upon a Late Book, entitled, “The Case of Allegiance
Considered, wherein is shown that the Church of England doctrine of
Non-resistance and Passive Obedience is not inconsistent with taking the
New Oaths to their present Majesties.” London: Printed for Richard
Baldwin, 1689. Pp. 16.

16. A Letter to a Bishop, concerning the present Settlement and the New
Oaths. London: Printed for Robert Clavel, 1689. 4to. Pp. 36.
_N.B._—Robert Clavel printed Samuel Wesley’s Letter on Dissenting
Academies.

17. A Full Answer to all the Popular Objections that have yet appeared
for not taking the Oath of Allegiance; particularly offered to the
consideration of all such of the Divines of the Church of England, and
others, as are yet unsatisfied. By a Divine of the Church of England.
London: Printed for R. Baldwin, 1689. 4to. Pp. 83.

18. A Representation of the Threatening Dangers impending over
Protestants in Great Britain, before the Coming of His Highness the
Prince of Orange. 1689. 4to. Pp. 54.

19. A Letter, written by a Clergyman to his Neighbour, concerning the
Present Circumstances of the Kingdom, and the Allegiance that is due to
the King and Queen. London: Printed for R. Chiswell, 1689. 4to. Pp. 13.

20. A Treatise of Monarchy. Done by an Earnest Desirer of his Country’s
Peace. London: Printed for R. Baldwin, 1689. 4to. Pp. 73.

21. The Proceedings of the present Parliament justified by the Opinion
of Hugo Grotius, &c. By a Lover of the Peace of his Country. London:
Printed by R. Taylor, 1689. 4to. Pp. 20.

                           ------------------

                              C, page 151.
                 LIST OF BOOKS CONDENSED IN “THE YOUNG
                          STUDENT’S LIBRARY.”

 1. Works of Dr Lightfoot. 2 vols. folio.
 2. Works of Dr Barrow. 3 vols. folio.
 3. Life of Archbishop Usher, with a collection of Three Hundred of his
 Letters. Folio.
 4. Usher’s Antiquities of the British Churches, &c. Folio.
 5. Usher’s Historical Explication of the Continual Succession and State
 of the Christian Churches. Folio.
 6. Usher on the Original of Bishops, &c. 8vo.
 7. The Letters of Grotius.
 8. The True System of the Church. By Sieur Jurien. 8vo.
 9. The Accomplishment of Prophecies. By J. Pepeth. 2 vols.
 10. Raius’ Second Tome of the History of Plants. Folio.
 11. A Book of Canon Law. 2 vols. folio.
 12. Two Treatises on the Use and Abuse of Books.
 13. A Voyage to Dalmatia, Greece, and the Levant. By Mr Wheeler.
 14. A new Relation of China. By Father Gabriel de Magaillans. Quarto.
 15. Chardin’s Voyages into Persia, and to the East Indies. Folio.
 16. Persecutions of the Reformed Church in France.
 17. The British Theatre, or, The true History of Great Britain. 5 vols.
 18. The Infallibility of the Roman Church. 8vo.
 19. Abridgment of Universal History. By Henry le Bret. 3 vols.
 20. Tavernier’s Treatises. Quarto.
 21. Dissertations of Mr Burman. Quarto.
 22. Speech of Monsieur Cocquelin.
 23. Dr Burnet’s Letters. 8vo.
 24. Thirty-three Orations of Themistius. Folio.
 25. Prerogatives of St Ann, Mother of the Mother of God, approved by
 the Doctors of the Sorbonne.
 26. Three works written against the Doctrine of M. de Meaux. 3 vols.
 27. Discourse on the Eucharist. Quarto.
 28. Stillingfleet’s Origines Britannicæ. Folio.
 29. Works of James Alting. Folio.
 30. Manner of Thinking Well. Quarto.
 31. History of a Christian Lady of China.
 32. History of the East Indies.
 33. Boyle on Nature.
 34. Locke on the Human Understanding.
 35. Beasts. By J. Darmanson.
 36. Essays on Philosophy of Descartes.
 37. Boyle on Specific Remedies.
 38. Reflections on Ancient and Modern Philosophy.
 39. Cicero’s Offices. 8vo.
 40. Stanley’s History of Philosophy.
 41. Boyle on Final Causes. 8vo.
 42. Description of a Ship. By Sir W. Petti.
 43. Letters on the use of Pendulums, &c.
 44. Extracts from English Journals.
 45. Micrographia. By Hook.
 46. A Treatise of the Loadstone. By M. D.
 47. Vapours. By Edmund Halley.
 48. Disquisitiones Criticæ. Quarto.
 49. Novorum Bibliorum Polyglottorum Synopsis.
 50. Abridgment of Hebrew and Chaldee Grammar. By Leusden. 8vo.
 51. A New Lexicon in Hebrew and Latin. By Robertson.
 52. Seldeni Otia Theologica, &c. Quarto.
 53. Gronovius’s Exercitations on Judas Iscariot. Quarto.
 54. Dr Sprat’s History of the Royal Society. Quarto.
 55. Cave’s History of the Fathers. Folio.
 56. The Works and Life of Gregory Nazianzen. Folio.
 57. Dodwell’s Dissertations on St Irenæus.
 58.      ”           ”      on St Cyprian. Folio.
 59. The Works of Clemens Alexandrinus. Folio.
 60. The Epistles of St Clement.
 61. Du Pin’s Ecclesiastical Authors.
 62. The Art of War. 3 vols. 8vo.
 63. The Education of Daughters. By Fenelon.
 64. Curious Miscellanies. Quarto.
 65. Fasciculus Rerum Expetendarum.
 66. Dissertations about Wedlock, &c. By Mayerus.
 67. Discourses upon the Sciences.
 68. Luther’s Conference with the Devil.
 69. Anatomical Discoveries. 2 vols. folio.
 70. A Treatise on Marriage. By Chausse.
 71. Collection of Pieces of Eloquence and Poetry.
 72. Speeches in the French Academy.
 73. A Clergyman’s Letter to Nuns.
 74. Life of Mecenas.
 75. Treatise on Witches. Quarto.
 76. Treatise on Law.
 77. The Art of Preaching.
 78. History of Animals mentioned in Holy Writ.
 79. Clerkson’s Discourse concerning Liturgies.
 80. Comber on Liturgies.
 81. A Bibliotheque of Ecclesiastick Authors.
 82. Du Pin on Church Discipline. Quarto.
 83. Treatise upon Nature and Grace. By Jurieu.
 84. The Inquisition at Goa.
 85. Notes on Virgil. By Ruæus.
 86. Works of Le Moyne. 2 vols. 4to.
 87. Carmelite History Defended.
 88. Vossius’s Observations.
 89. Ray’s History of Plants.




                            NOTE.—Page 198.

After this work was sent to press, the writer ascertained that the
story, given on the authority of John Wesley, page 198, is not strictly
accurate. The following are the facts of the case, in brief:—Though the
Marquis of Normanby was probably the means of obtaining for Samuel
Wesley the rectory of South Ormsby, the real _patrons_ of the living
were certain members of the Massingberd family. It also appears that the
house of the patron, which was situated in the parish, was rented, not
by the Marquis of Normanby, but by the Earl of Castleton; and that it
was the latter nobleman who so resented the affront to his mistress,
that Samuel Wesley found it expedient to resign the living. According to
the Bishop’s Register at Lincoln, Mr Wesley took possession of the South
Ormsby Rectory on the 25th of June 1691.




                       INDEX OF NAMES OF PERSONS.


        A

 Anne, Queen, 258.
 Ackland, Sir John, 80.
 Addison, Launcelot, 34.
 Addison, Joseph, 34, 241.
 Albemarle, Duke of, 13.
 Alleine, Joseph, 23, 34, 47, 48.
 Alleine, Richard, 23.
 Alexander, Rev. W. L., 146.
 Alsop, Vincent, 74, 117, 386.
 Ambrose, Isaac, 23.
 Anglesea, Earl of, 13.
 Annesley, Ann, 122.
 Annesley, Benjamin, 121.
 Annesley, Judith, 122, 126.
 Annesley, Rev. Dr Samuel, 22, 84, 85, 119, 159, 327, 386.
 Annesley, Samuel, jun., 121, 229, 296.
 Argyle, Earl of, 60, 95.
 Asgil, Mr, 276.
 Atterbury, Bishop, 276, 339, 344, 367.

        B

 Bacon, Lord, 348.
 Badcock, Rev. S., 162, 350, 380.
 Baillie of Jerviswoode, 61.
 Barclay, William, 183.
 Barrow, Isaac, 64, 129, 385.
 Bates, William, 12–14, 22, 24, 386.
 Baxter, Andrew, 348.
 Baxter, Richard, 6, 10, 12–15, 21, 24, 100, 117, 188, 236, 386.
 Bedford, Earl of, 61.
 Bekker, Balthasar, 348.
 Belhaven, Lord, 60.
 Bentley, Richard, 118, 370.
 Berry, Rev. John, 102.
 Bertie, Mr, 297.
 Beveridge, Bishop, 116, 175, 214, 384, 385.
 Biddle, J., 71, 256.
 Blackhall, Thomas, 80.
 Blackmore, Sir Richard, 243.
 Blackwell, Ebenezer, 200.
 Blood, Colonel, 56, 61.
 Blow, Dr, 327.
 Bolingbroke, Lord, 241, 365.
 Boyle, Hon. Robert, 118.
 Brady, Dr, 137.
 Brand, Rev. T., 159.
 Bridgewater, Benjamin, 274, 317.
 Brookes, Thomas, 22.
 Brown, Robert, 353–355.
 Browne, Sir Thomas, 8.
 Buckingham, Duke of, 9.
 Bull, Bishop, 188, 385.
 Bunyan, John, 64, 76.
 Burgess, Dr, 52, 117, 339, 386.
 Burnet, Bishop, 61, 116, 174, 188, 215, 257, 269, 339, 385, 458.
 Busby, Dr, 8.
 Butler, Bishop, 369.
 Butler, Dr, 30.
 Butler, Samuel, 64.
 Button, Ralph, 34.
 Byng, Admiral, 117.

        C

 Calamy, Edmund, 6, 10–14, 20, 22, 28, 46, 50, 81, 120, 370, 386.
 Caroline, Queen, 380.
 Cartwright, Bishop, 34, 89.
 Caryll, Joseph, 6, 7, 11, 15, 22.
 Catherine, Queen, 19.
 Cave, Edward, 370.
 Chadwick, William, 212, 292.
 Chandler, Samuel, 370.
 Charnock, Stephen, 23, 34, 66, 76, 386.
 Charles I., 1, 7, 17.
 Charles II., 10, 11, 13, 19, 28, 30, 43, 56, 61, 80, 87, 94, 114, 167.
 Chaucer, Geoffrey, 243.
 Clarendon, Lord, 13, 14, 24, 28, 104, 124, 169, 274.
 Clarke, Dr A., 31, 46, 50, 83, 87, 121, 125, 140, 162, 254, 294, 323,
    325, 333, 358, 449, 451, 457.
 Clarke, Dr Samuel, 367.
 Clavel, Robert, 278, 315.
 Coke, Dr Thomas, 162.
 Cole, Thomas, 34.
 Collier, Jeremy, 170.
 Collins, Anthony, 241.
 Compton, Bishop, 34, 98, 106, 114, 175.
 Congreve, William, 241.
 Cowley, Abraham, 64, 114, 242.
 Crewe, Bishop, 34.
 Croft, William, 370.
 Crofton, Zachary, 15.
 Cromwell, Sir Harry, 66.
 Cromwell, Oliver, 7, 10, 19, 35.
 Cromwell, Richard, 10.
 Crusoe, Timothy, 74.
 Cudworth, Ralph, 8, 20, 64, 129.
 Cumberland, Bishop, 34, 188.

        D

 Darwin, Robert, 304.
 Defoe, Daniel, 75, 121, 219, 221, 284–289, 292.
 Delamotte, Charles, 432.
 Derham, William, 116.
 Derwentwater, Earl of, 365.
 Doddridge, Philip, 370.
 Dodwell, Henry, 170, 345, 385.
 Dolling, Henry, 55, 82.
 Doolittle, Thomas, 69.
 Dorset, Earl of, 137.
 Dryden, John, 64, 83, 97, 118, 187, 242, 243.
 Dunton, Elizabeth, 207.
 Dunton, John, 66, 68, 70, 74, 84–86, 117, 120, 131, 135, 150, 161, 209,
    290.
 Dymoke, Mr, 297.

        E

 Earle, Mrs, 350.
 Eccles, Solomon, 5.
 Ellison, Richard, 200, 397, 405, 433, 435.
 Emerson, William, 370.
 Erastus, 6.
 Essex, Earl of, 61.
 Exeter, Earl of, 169.

        F.

 Fairthorn, William, 163.
 Farmer, Antony, 88.
 Featley, Dr, 52.
 Firmin, Thomas, 256.
 Fitzgerald, Colonel, 194.
 Flavel, John, 23.
 Fleetwood, Bishop, 116.
 Foley, Bishop, 194.
 Forster, Judge, 48.
 Fowler, Bishop, 34.
 Fox, George, 5, 182.
 Frampton, Bishop, 169, 172.
 Freak, Mr, 36, 42.
 Fulford, Sir Francis, 38.
 Fuller, Dr Thomas, 52.

        G.

 Gale, Roger, 372.
 Gauden, John, 10.
 George I., 367, 369.
 Gibbons, Grinling, 118.
 Gibson, Bishop, 369.
 Gildon, Charles, 138, 154.
 Glanvil, Joseph, 348.
 Glisson, Mr, 38.
 Godfrey, Sir Edmondbury, 57.
 Gouge, Thomas, 23.
 Goodwin, John, 7, 23, 34.
 Graffen, Rev. Mr, 15.
 Grandval, De, 181.
 Granville, Sir John, 10.
 Gunning, Dr, 13.
 Gurnall, Dr, 20.

        H.

 Hackett, Bishop, 19.
 Hakewell, Dr, 80.
 Hale, Sir Matthew, 56, 386.
 Haley, Dr, 255.
 Halifax, Lord, 261.
 Hall, Westley, 323.
 Hall, Bishop, 3.
 Hammond, Dr, 271.
 Hampson, Rev. John, 457.
 Handel, G. F., 370.
 Hardy, Edward, 55.
 Harper, Mr, 416, 417, 433.
 Harrison, Thomas, 23.
 Hartop, Sir John, 100.
 Henry, Matthew, 70, 117, 386.
 Henry, Philip, 12, 24, 34.
 Heywood, Oliver, 12, 20, 23.
 Heylin, Dr, 14.
 Hickes, George, 170, 345.
 Hinks, John, 5.
 Hoadley, Bishop, 367, 369.
 Hoare, Mr, 329.
 Hogarth, William, 37.
 Hoole, Rev. Mr, 352, 357, 382, 392, 394, 443.
 Hooper, Bishop, 34, 116, 255.
 Hopkins, Bishop, 34, 385.
 Horlock, Mr, 36.
 Horneck, Anthony, 213, 364.
 Howard, Lord, 61.
 Howe, John, 12, 24, 34, 74, 386.
 Hull, Henry, 29.
 Huntingdon, Bishop, 34.
 Hyde, Anne, 56.

        I

 Ingham, Benjamin, 432.
 Inman, Rev. Mr, 345.
 Ironside, Bishop, 35, 43.

        J.

 Jacombe, Dr Thomas, 13.
 James I., 8, 348.
 James II., 59, 60, 87–107, 114, 115, 167.
 Jane, Dr, 174, 175.
 Jeffreys, Judge, 24, 61, 96, 97, 100, 105.
 Jennings, Abraham, 30.
 Johnson, Maurice, 372.
 Johnson, Dr Samuel, 324, 370.
 Jones, Inigo, 8.
 Juxon, Bishop, 271.

        K.

 Keach, Benjamin, 117.
 Keith, George, 276.
 Ken, Bishop, 34, 115, 169, 171, 385.
 Kendall, Duchess of, 367.
 Kennet, Bishop, 116, 369.
 Kerr, Dr, 276, 277, 280.
 Kettlewell, John, 171, 386.
 Kneller, Sir Godfrey, 118, 187, 371.
 Kirk, Rev. John, 125, 128, 441, 452, 456.

        L.

 Lake, Bishop, 169, 171.
 Lambert, John, 322.
 Lardner, Nathaniel, 370.
 Laud, Archbishop, 1, 51.
 Lavington, Dr G., 369.
 Law, William, 369.
 Lee, Nathaniel, 187.
 Leland, John, 370.
 Lely, Sir Peter, 64, 187.
 Leslie, Charles, 171, 386.
 Lichfield, Earl of, 169.
 Lightfoot, Dr, 6, 14.
 Lisle, Mrs, 96.
 Lloyd, Bishop, 34.
 Locke, John, 118, 188.
 Lowth, Bishop, 369.
 Lowth, William, 116.
 Luther, Martin, 348.

        M

 Macaulay, Lord, 20, 59, 102, 107, 126, 129, 242.
 Mallett, David, 241.
 Manchester, Earl of, 13.
 Manton, Dr Thomas, 7, 11–14, 22, 74.
 Mar, Earl of, 365.
 Marlborough, Duke of, 117, 299.
 Marriot, Obadiah, 74.
 Marsh, Bishop, 34.
 Marshall, Nanny, 351.
 Marvel, Andrew, 8.
 Mary, Queen, 56, 98, 126, 185, 191, 193, 194.
 Massey, Captain, 31.
 Maundrell, Henry, 91.
 Maw, Mr, 329.
 Meech, Mr, 45.
 Milbourne, L., 160.
 Milner, Rev. Thos., 293.
 Milton, John, 8, 12, 242, 271.
 Milton, Lord, 372.
 Monk, General, 35.
 Morgan, Rev. Mr, 406, 407.
 Morley, Bishop, 13.
 Morley, Dr, 390, 393, 395, 399, 405.
 Monmouth, Duke of, 59–61, 95.
 Moore, Rev. Henry, 101–103, 445.
 More, Dr Henry, 64, 129, 348.
 Morton, Bishop, 3.
 Morton, Charles, 34, 66–74, 79, 289.
 Motteaux, P. A., 160.
 Muggleton, Ludowick, 4.

        N

 Napper, Sir Gerrard, 36, 42–47.
 Naylor, James, 5.
 Neal, Daniel, 370.
 Newton, Sir Isaac, 118, 187, 370.
 Norfolk, Duke of, 57.
 Norman, Rev. Mr, 47, 48.
 Normanby, Marquis of, 128, 194, 195.
 Normanby, Marchioness of, 269.
 Northampton, Countess of, 235, 269.
 Northcote, Sir Henry, 91.
 Norris, Dr, 133, 136.
 Nottingham, Earl of, 176.
 Nye, Philip, 49.

        O

 Oates, Titus, 57–59, 100.
 Oglethorpe, General, 425–429, 432, 435.
 Ormond, Duke of, 13, 56, 365.
 Otway, Thomas, 64.
 Owen, Dr John, 7, 10, 23, 33, 66, 77, 279, 386.
 Oxford, Earl of, 117, 365, 366, 379, 381.

        P

 Palmer, Samuel, 161, 276–281, 315–317.
 Parker, Bishop, 88, 89.
 Parkhurst, Thos., 84.
 Parnell, Thos., 241.
 Patrick, Bishop, 104.
 Pearson, Bishop, 14, 129, 385.
 Penn, William, 34, 118, 183.
 Pepys, Samuel, 10.
 Petre, Edward, 88.
 Petre, Sir Wm., 80, 88.
 Piers, Rev. Mr, 325.
 Piggot, Rev. Mr, 419
 Pococke, Dr, 34, 91.
 Pool, Matthew, 22, 66.
 Pope, Alexander, 84, 161, 241, 243, 367, 381.
 Porter, George, 34.
 Potter, Archbishop, 369, 396, 405.
 Prideaux, Dean, 369.
 Priestley, Dr, 350, 357.
 Prior, Matthew, 118, 241.
 Pulleyn, Bishop, 194.
 Purcell, Henry, 187, 327.

        R

 Radcliffe, John, 118.
 Ramsay, Allan, 370.
 Read, John, 91.
 Reading, Mr, 331, 332.
 Renty, Marquis de, 227.
 Reynolds, Bishop, 10–14, 415, 424.
 Richards, Edward, 80.
 Rogers, Timothy, 208.
 Romley, John, 323, 373.
 Roubiliac, Louis, 371.
 Rowe, Mrs, 138.
 Rupert, Prince, 51.

        S

 Sacheverell, Dr Henry, 213, 282, 334–343.
 Sault, Richard, 133, 135.
 Sancroft, Archbishop, 104, 115, 169, 171.
 Sanderson, Dr, 271.
 Saunders, Henry, 50.
 Saunderson, Nicholas, 370.
 Scot, Reginald, 348.
 Secker, Archbishop, 444.
 Settle, Elkanah, 133.
 Sharp, Archbishop, 55, 60.
 Sharpe, Archbishop, 116, 229, 234, 236, 267, 304, 345, 385.
 Sharpe, Granville, 237.
 Sherlock, Dr, 104, 169, 367, 369.
 Shiers, Mrs, 80.
 Shower, John, 74, 386.
 Sloane, Sir Hans, 118, 370.
 Smalridge, Dr, 339.
 Smith, Dr G., 102.
 Smithies, Rev. Mr, 214.
 Southey, Robert, 83, 102, 291, 359, 363, 364.
 South, Dr, 34, 116, 188.
 Spencer, E., 243.
 Spratt, Bishop, 34, 113, 385.
 Spurstow, Dr, 13, 15.
 Stackhouse, Thos., 369.
 Stafford, Bishop, 80.
 Stafford, Lord, 2, 58.
 Stanley, Dr, 267.
 Stapleton, Bishop, 80.
 Staunton, Dr, 34.
 Stedman, Rev. Thos., 90.
 Steele, Sir Richard, 241.
 Stevens, Dr A., 102.
 Stillingfleet, Bishop, 20, 104, 115, 188, 385.
 Stonehouse, Rev. W. B., 358.
 Sturt, John, 245.
 Swift, Dean, 118, 137, 241.
 Sydney, Algernon, 61.
 Sylvester, Matthew, 117.

        T

 Tate, Nahum, 137, 160.
 Taylor, Jeremy, 3.
 Temple, Sir William, 138.
 Tennison, Archbishop, 104, 116.
 Thomas, Bishop, 169, 172.
 Thompson, Alderman, 15.
 Thomund, Lord, 23.
 Thorold, Sir John, 297.
 Tillotson, Archbishop, 20, 61, 104, 115, 175, 184, 191–194, 256, 385.
 Tindall, Matthew, 241.
 Toland, John, 241, 255.
 Tonge, Dr, 57.
 Travers, Mr, 374.
 Tregonell, Mr, 36, 42.
 Turner, Bishop, 34, 169, 171.
 Tyrconnel, Duchess of, 62.

        U

 Usher, Archbishop, 3, 12.

        V

 Vandyke, Sir Anthony, 8.
 Veal, Edward, 65.

        W

 Wagstaffe, Thos., 172.
 Wake, Archbishop, 369.
 Walker, Obadiah, 88.
 Waller, Edmund, 64, 242.
 Waller, Sir Wm., 66.
 Wallis, John, 13.
 Walton, Rev. Mr, 42, 43.
 Warburton, Bishop, 369, 380.
 Waterland, Daniel, 369.
 Watts, Isaac, 138, 370.
 Watson, Thomas, 23.
 Welsh, W., 222, 223.
 Wesley, Anne, 322, 351.
 Wesley, Bartholomew, 28–32.
 Wesley, Charles, 312, 322–326, 400–406, 427, 437, 444.
 Wesley, Emilia, 199, 351, 354, 356, 359, 361.
 Wesley, John, sen., 32–51, 296.
 Wesley, John, jun., 20, 30, 77, 94, 107, 136, 162, 177, 187, 188, 198,
    201, 215, 222–228, 239, 251, 296, 299, 326, 339, 357, 361, 362, 372,
    374, 375, 380, 382, 388–400, 415, 421, 426, 433, 434, 437, 444, 449,
    456, 458.
 Wesley, Kezziah, 325, 354.
 Wesley, Matthew, 232, 262, 323, 333, 436–442, 455.
 Wesley, Martha, 322.
 Wesley, Mary, 200.
 Wesley, Mehetabel, 201, 204, 333, 351, 389, 437.
 Wesley, Mrs Susannah, 125, 252, 304, 327, 328, 345, 350, 360, 392, 416,
    443.
 Wesley, Miss Susannah, 199, 333, 351.
 Wesley, Samuel, jun., 102, 199, 307, 315, 319, 321, 323, 357, 379,
    409–411, 417, 432, 434, 444, 448, 455.
 Wesley, Miss Sarah, 451–454.
 White, Bishop, 169, 171.
 White, Rev. John, 51.
 White, John, Esq., M.P., 122.
 White, Jeremy, 26, 272.
 Whichcott, Colonel, 297, 300.
 Whitby, Dr, 34, 116, 385.
 Whitehead, Dr, 456.
 Whitelamb, John, 374–379, 405, 417, 420, 421, 424, 430, 433.
 Wilde, Dr Robert, 13.
 Wilkins, Bishop, 34, 56, 67.
 William III., 56, 85, 90, 93, 104-107, 115, 116, 167–69, 187, 188, 295.
 William, Lord Russell, 61.
 Williams, Bishop, 70.
 Williams, Dr, 20, 117, 120, 386.
 Wilmot, Lord, 28, 29.
 Wilson, Bishop, 116.
 Winchelsea, Lord, 107.
 Wiseman, Bishop, 34.
 Withers, George, 8.
 Wood, Anthony, 28, 33.
 Woodward, Dr, 258.
 Wren, Sir Christopher, 34, 64, 118.
 Wright, William, 206.
 Wycherly, William, 241.

        Y.

 Young, Dr Edward, 241, 370.

         BALLANTYNE, ROBERTS, AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

------------------------------------------------------------------------

                           Transcriber’s Note

On p. 126, there is a quotation from Macualay which is an abridgement of
the original, including a passage from a footnote, which resulted in a
confusion of quotation and embedded quotation marks. These have been
sorted out.

On pp. 144–145, there is a series of citations from the _Athenian
Oracle_, which are sometimes paraphrased or elided. It seems the printer
had no firm grasp on the boundaries of the various citations. An
apparently spurious opening quotation mark has been removed on p. 145.

On p. 200, in the recounting of Mr Wesley’s children, several birthdates
are given in the wrong century (1794 and 1795, rather than one hundred
years earlier).

There was no footnote marker for was is now footnote 336 on p. 441. One
was placed where it seemed most pertinent.

Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and
are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original.

 24.26        thou art an old knave[.]                     Restored.
 62.31        became the p[r]atronesses                    Removed.
 89.22        and inevitably lo[o]se everything            Removed.
 93.3         but when James ignomin[i]ously fled          Inserted.
 106.34       At F[e/a]versham he embarked                 Replaced.
 136.24       a tincture of e[u/n]thusiasm                 Inverted.
 144.34       or by damning him undeservedly.[”]           Added.
 145.2        the differences [“]arising out of the        Removed.
              doctrines
 145.36       [“]We are saved                              Added.
 168.26       the result of this abando[n]ment             Inserted.
 186.27       in a blaze with[ with] innumerable           Removed.
              wax-lights
 200.2        They were baptized December 3, 1[7/6]94      Replaced.
 200.3        was born in 1[7/6]95                         Replaced.
 208.23       [“/‘]Heaven will ... to God betimes![’]”     Nested.
 229.12       his brother-in-law[-/, ]Samuel Annesley,     Replaced.
 232.10       to take such child[r]en as apprentices       Inserted.
 286.6        raised by his probo[s]cis.                   Inserted.
 289.22       in their own opinions.[”]                    Added.
 293.5        the seceders from its communion.[”]          Added.
 302.10       the general election of 17[6/0]5             Replaced.
 316.23       caressed at their houses,[”] (p. 65.)        Removed
 316.33       than their predecessors[”]                   Added.
 319.8        [“]He adds,                                  Removed.
 349.23       in the doc[t]rine of apparitions.            Inserted.
 372.1        De la Valle, Pentinger[,] Bochart            Added.
 373.29       soft, smooth, tunefu[l] voice                Added.
 376.18       [“]In memory of John Whitelamb               Added.
 382.17       The points upon[ upon] which                 Removed.
 392.n277.5   facts and [s]tatements,                      Added.
 400.3        prudence[,] simplicity, sincerity            Added.
 429.8        [“]MR LYNDAL>,                               Added.